#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn��t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts ot7 x reader #bts yandere!au #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts mafia!au #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #namjoon mafia au #yandere namjoon #yandere seokjin #jin x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi au #yandere hoseok #hoseok mafia au #hobi au #jimin x you #yandere jimin #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook mafia #yandere jungkook

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

--

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with.  Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

#bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #the gentlemen #tgm #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[wwilloww]

sh. | ot7 | chapter five

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS protected sex. friends with benefits relationship. dirty talk. power play dynamics. angst. semi-public nudity. mentions of open relationship. sexting. reckoning with feelings. talk of alcohol use. 

AN: One million bazillion thanks to the best beta and geologist out there, @hesperantha. Everyday I think to myself, how the fuck would this series exist without this magical lady? And every day I am thankful for her beautiful existence. 

Also, if you haven’t seen /the trailer, you might wanna check it out. Just because I had a lot of fun making it and it was super fun to visualize the characters and their tiny little world. 

Going forward, you can read with they/them pronouns by navigating to the series m.list and reading from there. 

That said, LETS JUMP IN!

← || series m.list || →

©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.  

chapter five

January 2020

What is left when you’re not sure where to turn?

You know there’s Yoongi. Dependable, familiar, predictable Yoongi. Predictable in the sense that you know, unabashedly, that no matter what, you can always count on him to draw a short term — but important — curtain over whatever notion, anxiety, or complication that happens to be singing in your mind that day. Erase it, temporarily, with those long fingers, gliding over your skin in expert patterns, drawing you and your pleasure exactly where he wants it to be.

And predictable in the sense that you know you will be perfectly and endlessly satisfied at the end of the night, no matter what.

See, Yoongi doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t draw you out and dangle you over your own pleasure. He gives it to you. Over and over and over and over again. Extends his palm and pulls as many orgasms from you as you can physically muster and then lets you collapse in his arms. Dependable, see? Dependable, always.

Once you’re settled in his lap, Yoongi lets you grind on him for a bit as he undresses you expertly, long fingers slipping under the fabric of your clothes before tugging them off gracefully and tossing them across the room. This, this he did love to do. Loved to scatter your clothes around and then watch you from the bed as you tried to piece some semblance of an outfit back together after he fucked you senseless.

“Don’t throw my bra behind the furniture again,” you murmur as you kiss down his neck. “I know you thought it was a great tactic to get me to rearrange your room the last time — but I’m not moving a hundred pound dresser to get my very expensive bra back again.”

He chuckles. Murmurs, “As you wish.” And then throws your bra someplace you can’t see.

Now that you’re topless, he lets his long fingers skate up the skin of your back, tracing the flesh of your hips and with such delicacy it almost tickles. That is, delicate until his hand weaves itself up your neck. His grip tightens at the root of your hair, tugging your head back in a swift motion and exposing your neck to him.

“How do you want me to fuck you tonight?” His voice is deep and it raises goosebumps on your skin. He lets his teeth trace a line up the sensitive skin of your neck until he reaches your ear and bites down hard.

“Fuck,” you breathe as a shiver runs through your body. Yoongi always took particular care to curate a library of knowledge about your ticks, turn ons, and vices. And then he played them out for you in an expertly coordinated hand.

“Yes, that’s in the cards. But tell me specifically how you want it.”

Behind him, the large bedroom is equipped with enough musical equipment to run a fully functioning studio. Instruments hang on the walls and a large black bed rests in the center of the room. The dark tones of the wood and sheets make the otherwise sparse room feel warm and dark. Compared to the shabby little apartment that you share with Namjoon, this is luxury. Your gaze rests on the large wall of glass that looks out over the city.

“The window,” you say.

He grins.

The glass is cold against your bare skin when he presses you to it. The difference in temperature between the fired heat of your skin and the iced window slices right through you, makes you gasp as his hands run over your body, taking you in as you are: bare and ready for him.

You watch as he strips off his clothes, gracefully and swiftly. First the shirt, then his pants. It’s no surprise to you that he’s not wearing any undergarments at all. Delight lights in his eye when he notices how greedily you watch him.

“Do you want me to—” He begins to lean down, but you stop him and pull him up.

“Just fuck me.”

He turns you around in one movement, your hands flying up to stop the impact, your chest — and your nipples — pressing to the glass. The sensation overwhelms you as he slides two fingers between your folds, collecting the slickness that has gathered there.

“You’re already so wet for me.”

A smile spreads across your face as you hear the condom packet rip and he slots his cock against your cunt, coating himself in your arousal.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, a hint of a whine slipping into your voice.

“Don’t worry. I have no patience for that tonight.” And he pushes in. “How’s that?” he says, the lilting tease in his tone cutting sharp against your ear as his dick sinks into you, inch by delightful inch.  

It feels like you have to catch your breath to speak. “Is it always this good?”

“Baby, if it isn’t, you should ask for a refund.” He punctuates the last word of his sentence with a harsh thrust that rams your chest up against the glass.

“Fuck—” you hiss.

Memory whitens like it’s been covered in a blanket of snow as he begins a punishing pace, hips rutting up into you before drawing almost all the way back, tip barely inside of you before thrusting back into you, all the way to the hilt. Sensation overtakes thought. The slicing coldness of the glass against your nipples paints a stark contrast to the softness of lips pressed to yours, softness of a hand cupping your cheek—

You should be thinking of anything but that.

And it’s easy to do, in this moment. To focus on Yoongi, his commanding presence, the way he plays your body like one of the carefully polished instruments that hangs on his wall.

You cry out when he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and he pauses his movements, drinking in the sound of you.

“God, you sound so fucking good.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and pushes your back against the glass.

“Hop up,” he says, and you frown in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to. You wrap your arms around his neck and with a jump, wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck—” With a grunt of effort, he holds you up while slotting himself against your folds and pushing inside again.

The most you can do in this position is tilt your pelvis and grind down on him — while holding onto dear life — and you do, rotating it against his waist, drawing the most delicious sounds from his lips. Your hips begin to move in tandem, each pushing closer to the pleasure that you both so desperately desire.

This is better. This is worse.

See, the two of you have fallen into patterns in your hookups. Rules, even, although no one but you thought of them as such. But the habit — and therefore the lines — were clear to you:

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t confess your love. Hookups only, and breakfast together the morning after. Usually he takes you from behind, because, as he once commented to you, “the ass cheeks are the eyes of the heart.” Which to you, made no sense at all, but you still obliged him. Plus, at the end of the day it was all a little more impersonal that way, anyways. Easier to separate from the rest of your relationship.

But looking into his face, pressed so close — there’s something there. A warmth. An understanding. Too much.  

Your head falls to his shoulder and his grip tightens on your thighs as he fucks up into you. Several heavy breaths before you bite gently at the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses.

“You’re too sensitive,” you chide, although the teasing lilt of your tone is broken up by him fucking into your body — and you both know you love the way he lets you know he likes things done.

“And you’re too shy,” he cuts back. “Why don’t you look at me when I fuck you?” It’s posed as a question but you know it’s a command.

Slowly, you draw your head back and look at him. His eyes are deep and dark, his hair tousled and face lined with pleasure.

“That’s a good little pet,” he whispers. It falls too softly.

It makes you want to kiss him. All you want to do is —

You press your lips to his. Just a peck — the smallest, lightest of pecks.

But the plush of his lips, the way they part so slightly when your lips meet... it leaves you wanting more. So you kiss him again, pressing yourself to him, chasing the feeling of his softness.

He responds, opening his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His pace doesn’t falter as he continues to fuck up into you. His lips move against yours, fierce, needy, demanding. And it’s then that your stomach drops. It’s as if the winter chill that lays just beyond the door at your back slices through your veins.

You pull back.

“No,” he says, and pulls you back to him. “Stop running.” He brings your face close enough to yours but doesn’t kiss you, just waits.

And you meet him in the middle, kissing him again, afraid of losing the warmth you sparked between you. He groans against you as your hips swivel around his cock, and bites down on your lip.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders, you let your other hand press against the nape of his neck, nails digging in just the way you know he likes it. You both have always been in rhythm, in tune with one another, but now with him kissing you — something new sparks between you. Something new, something terrifyingly warm.

When you pull back he smiles.

“Shit,” you whisper, your eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, an edge in his voice, his hips still circling against yours as he presses your back to the window. “You have nothing to apologize for.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh... stop. It’s okay. It was good.” He punctuates his meaning with a thrust, a small groan slipping from his throat. You want to swallow the sound of his pleasure whole, but still. You let the guilt in your chest rise to your throat.

“No, no, it’s not,” you say, though the coil that’s winding tighter and tighter in your belly makes it difficult to speak. You take a shuddering breath in as he hits your g-spot, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes. It is,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s close too. “You fuck better when you kiss. You feel it. You get into it.” Your brow purses at his words. “Now be good for me, forget it, and cum on this cock.”

You nod.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’ll forget it, be good for you, and cum on your cock.”

“Good,” he smiles.

Each thrust brings you a step closer. He kisses you, again waiting for you to meet his lips, and together you move like dancing partners closer and closer to the edge.

You cum, clenching around his cock and crying his name into his mouth.

The two of you breathe heavily, foreheads resting together for a moment that stretches long enough for you to call it a distance.

“Fuck—” Yoongi says, pulling out of you and smiling gently as he lets you down. “I’ve never heard you come like that before.”

Heat rises to your cheeks.

“Hold on, let me get you a towel or something,” Yoongi says, pressing his thumb to your forehead and wiping away a bead of sweat. You watch as he shuffles about his room, looking for anything to give you. “One second, I think there’s clean ones in the dryer.”

He wanders out of the room wearing absolutely nothing at all.

When you turn back to the outside world, the glass is fogged and the world feels a million miles away. The tension that rises up in your chest feels like a wrought iron ball and you need out, out, now.

There’s a fuzzy blanket on the dresser next to you and you snatch it, wrap yourself up tightly and push open the glass door to the tiny balcony. With a held breath, you step out. The cold concrete sends a chill through your body as you step out. Blue washes through you, shocking the pleasure-numbed nerves in your body back to life.

When you suck in a deep breath of snow-cold air, it feels as if clarity settles into you. You take a second, but shuddering, breath as you realize with a lucid sharp pain the reality of your situation.

Yoongi didn’t erase tonight from your mind. Sex didn’t remove Hobi’s kiss from your lips. An orgasm didn’t ease the unnamable want in your chest. If anything, it all just burns a little brighter.

This thing with Yoongi — it’s not supposed to be a distraction for you, or a means to make you feel something else. It’s supposed to be its own thing, a compartmentalized friends with benefits situation that has always been clear and defined between the two of you. But as soon as you showed up on his door with an ulterior motive other than sex, it became something else. As soon as you kissed him, you made it something else.

Fuck.

Around you, fat flurries drift down from the dark sky. They melt as they land on your bare skin. There’s no escaping this thing inside you. But the intensity of the cold seems like it keeps you here, grounded, in Yoongi’s home and facing actuality. As if any form of warmth would leave you wandering into the sickly sweet honeytrap of the what if’s that already threaten on the edge of your mind.

“Come to bed,” Yoongi calls from inside. When you don’t, he comes out onto the tiny balcony and wraps himself around you from behind, his head notching on your shoulder. “Christ, you’re freezing.”

“It feels good,” you say, nuzzing your body back against his.

“I know I didn’t work you up that much that you need to stand in the snow to cool down. Come to bed.”

Still wrapped around you, he waddles you inside, earning a giggle from you as you tumble into bed and he slams the door closed with a bit of a shiver.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping you in a blanket before settling beside you.

He’s close. Wildly close. His breath brushes softly against your face as you look at each other. You take in the flushed pink of his face, the way his hair is tousled into a gorgeous mess from the effort of your intimacy.

You could kiss him again, you think and a shock runs through your body at the thought. Christ, his cock’s been inside you a million times and yet you balk at the thought of kissing him, of pulling him right where you want him, where he fits so perfectly, where he feels so warm —

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi says softly.

“What are you thinking?” you cut back, just a little too quickly.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’m thinking that you keep yourself so tightly together.”

You smile tightly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You bite down on your lip.

“You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear it,” Yoongi says. “Just tell me. You know there’s nothing you could say that would upset me.” When you don’t say anything, he continues. “For god’s sake, I’ve seen your asshole. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine,” he grins.

“Maybe we should…” You trail off and bite the inside of your cheek.

Yoongi rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.

“Maybe we should…?” He prompts. “Join a sex dungeon?”

You laugh, the thought of going to one with Yoongi is one that sends a thrill through you. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

You take a deep breath. “That maybe we should… stop. This.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean. He knows. “That, my dear, sounds like quite the antithesis to going to a sex dungeon with me.”

You laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes when I am friends with benefits breaking up with you.”

“What? Were you expecting me to be angry?”

“I mean I expected a little bit of a fight. Or at least… I don’t know. Questions.”

“Do you want questions?”

You look at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well. Why are you ending things.”

You flop onto your back. Look at the ceiling. The way the lights of the city reflect paley onto the white surface. They look like ghosts.

“I don’t really know.”

He pulls you to him, rolling you onto your side and tangling your hands together. “Okay.”

And then the two of you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in silence, the weight of your decision, of this ending, settling over you with a concrete taste. There’s something uncomfortable in this kind of silence. But it’s not him, it’s not an awkwardness, or the building of tension or resentment. None of that lies between you. It’s the fact that within the silence the answers rise up in you, and you find the words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t want it to be complicated, Yoongi.”

He waits a moment before responding. “Is it complicated?”

“Well.” You sigh. “No. Not with us. Us is easy. I feel like I can tell you what I need or what I want and I trust you to be able to either give me that or set a boundary.”

Yoongi hums. “I feel the same. So then if it’s not us...?”

“I made a mistake tonight. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

His brow furrows. “Not with me you didn’t. I don’t underst—”

“Not you. It’s me. It’s — it’s always me. I don’t want things to spin out of control. And I feel like they’re about to.”

Yoongi is silent for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that way.” He pulls you closer to him, his grip tightening on your hip. “Really.” You stare down at your intertwined hands. “Look at me.” He waits until you do, summoning an inner strength you didn’t know you needed to look at your friend. “There’s a part of me that wonders how much of this is you punishing yourself for something that you don’t have any reason to be punishing yourself for.”

You can’t help the nervous laugh that shoots from your chest.

“What!? Are you laughing at me!?”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Just… I don’t know what it is, but if anyone were to look right through me and see everything that’s going on, it’s you.”

He smiles softly.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Do you want your friend to wrap himself around you? Pull you in tight to his warm chest? Remind you of the summer that lies on the other side of this long, long winter?

“No,” you say slowly. “I think I need some space. To… process.”

He nods. “Well, as my newest friends with benefits ex, I agree, you should probably leave. You know. So it doesn’t get awkward.” He grins.

“Yeesh, you’re so quick to kick me out.”

“I know. I guess I just need some space. You know. To process, too. Grieve.”  He paints a fake frown on his face and does a dramatic rendition of a very gross sniffle.

You giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Together you get out of bed, Yoongi — for once — rifling through his room in search of your clothes. With every piece of clothing you put on, you feel like you take another step backwards. Away from Yoongi, away from the vulnerability in you that feels like it tears open everytime he looks at you. His comfort. Each new piece of fabric is another wall resurrected. But when you go to hook your bra behind your back, he steps behind you, taking the straps from your hands and gently hooking the clips together.

“Here.”

When he’s done, his fingers linger on your skin just a moment too long.

“Thanks,” you say softly, turning back to him.

His eyes are still blown wide, his hair perfectly disastrous. There’s something so deadly soft about him. He looks just as he did when you marched into his bedroom earlier in the night. And yet, on the other side of this night, you feel like a totally different person. As if the stranger inside of you has finally stepped forward and introduced herself.

You turn away hastily, heading to the living room. He follows and pulls your jacket from the couch and helps you into it.

Shoes on, jacket on, you’re all ready to walk out the door. And still you linger. Yoongi glances at his watch.

“Well, I’d say six hours is a proper mourning period. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“How about brunch? I’m not getting up at 9am for eggs.”

“Oh and I’m the one who needs space huh?” He smiles softly. “11am. You’ll get up at 11am and I’ll buy you a breakup brunch.”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. Even as you taste the edge of fear — of anxiety — on your tongue, there is still a kind of undeniable warmth that blossoms in your chest every single time you look at him.

You broaden your smile. Push it down.

There’s one last thing.

“And—”

But he already knows what you’re asking. He steps forward, taking your head between his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. The shock that runs through you is quick and cold.

“I know,” he says. “This’ll still be our little secret.”

When he steps back, there’s something soft in his gaze — too soft, you can’t help but think. Tenderness, surrounded by acceptance and strength. All the things that make Yoongi, well, Yoongi. And yet it feels like too much to handle. Too much to be looked at, to be seen, to be understood when you can barely wrap your mind around what’s going on.

“Sleep well, buttercup.”

Different taxi, different driver, different route.

“Home,” you tell the woman at the wheel when you give her your address, her over-bleached and curly hair forming a kind of halo around her in the seat.

“You got it,” she says smacking her gum and throwing you a wayward smile.

As the car pulls away from the curb and picks up speed, you feel a kind of numbness wash over you.

It was the right decision to end things with Yoongi, you remind yourself, even as you feel a kind of twinge in your chest. You haven’t lost a friend. In fact, you’ve probably preserved your friendship. Saved it from wandering into the brambly bushes of complication and ultimate destruction. Even if it means the loss of killer sex.

You phone dings, and you instinctively brush a hand over your body to make sure you left with all the clothes you arrived in.

When you look at your phone, it’s not who you imagine. It’s not what you imagine.

tae: I forgot how loud you are when you orgasm.

You choke, hand snapping up quickly to cover your mouth.

“You alright, hun?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” you say, but your voice is strained. You immediately type out your response.

you: fuck. i’m so sorry. you: it won’t happen again.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, embarrassment and confusion tightening around your throat. How much more can you really take tonight? Hobi, then Yoongi — now this? You tap your foot as you wait for the response, which takes just a minute to pop up on your phone.

tae: oh… well that’s too bad. I actually didn’t mind it all that much.

Oh.

Oh.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re typing out your response — and turning down the brightness as if it will hide the loudness of your message from the world.

you: is that right?

tae: i said it didn’t i? ive always been a man of my word. brings me back to the old days, in a way.

you: oh?

tae: you know…

you: do i?

tae: you do.

you: it’s been a while. why don’t you remind me?

tae: you’re playing coy tonight. two very loud orgasms and you’re still not done playing?

you: i’d send that shrugging emoji but i can’t find it you: what can i say? I can be needy

tae: should i remind you tae: when we used to park behind the grocery store tae: there was never anyone around but you’d still get so shy and embarrassed tae: and try to cum without a sound tae: but i didn’t hear a single note of shame or restraint tonight tae: shamelessness looks good on you tae: **sounds good on you

you: you were always quite shameless yourself

tae: it gets me far in life

You blink down at your phone, not really sure what to say. Taehyung’s hearty banter is something you’re used to. Even after all these years, your quick back and forth was still twinged with the smallest teasing edge of sexual interest. But you had always kept it within strict boundaries, never returning to your previous relationship, never suggesting—  

tae: but my question is how far will it get me with you?

Your breath freezes in your throat. Never suggesting that you return to anything of the past.

tae: jk tae: unless…?

Taehyung’s sexually laced messages have your head spinning round and round on its pedestal. It’s not as if you had never thought about it, never considered it. But there was a line there, was there not? A line you shouldn’t cross, shouldn’t even think of crossing, no matter how you wanted to. With a deep breath, you respond.

you: i don’t know if we should be having this conversation right now?

tae: why? because you’re my ex? or because of Jin?

Before you can even manage to type out the long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be dipping your toes into the perilous waters of sexting your very happily taken ex, the screen is lighting up again.

tae: if it’s the latter, don’t worry. he’s here too. tae: he says to tell u you’re hot   tae: which is news to me tae: not that you’re not hot, but that he thinks that tae: and he says hes “sorry he missed the show earlier”

you: tbh that was NOT the response i was expecting to get.

tae: we’re very open about these things. he’s quite… encouraging actually

As if this is the opening, you walk through it.

you: in what way?

tae: he likes visibility in a specific way. he likes to watch. likes to be watched and… the attention, especially when its directed at me, especially when he knows that at the end of the day i’m crawling back into his bed

Your heart races in your chest.

tae: sorry, maybe that’s tmi.

you: don’t apologize. i don’t mind tmi

tae: then i won’t apologize.

you: good.

tae: good 😂 tae: you know, i liked it.

you: sorry, liked what?

tae: hearing it tae: hearing you cum

you: did you?

tae: more than i expected

you: more than you should?

tae: that’s not what i said

you: well, like i mentioned, it won’t happen again

tae: why not? You finally get me to admit i didn’t mind it and now you’re telling me i won’t get more? :(

You chew on your bottom lip before responding.

you: it’s complicated.

tae: an orgasm is never complicated.

you: …

tae: but you know what is complicated? tae: feelings. tae: you’re having feelings. tae: oh my god you’re in love with yoongi

you: i am nOT in love with yoongi you: surprisingly it has very little to do with yoongi

Even as you send the text, you know that’s not entirely true.

tae: okay, then what’s going on??? pls don’t play cryptic with me, it’s too late for that shit

you: i don’t even know what’s going on.

tae: oh. tae: so we’re talking big boy emotions

you: i don’t have *emotions*

tae: you’re a fucking liar

you: hey you: language

tae: alright then let me rephrase it tae: what are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your heart catches in your throat. Oh.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says, and your head snaps up from the light of your phone to see your apartment complex towering high and familiar above you.

“Oh!” You blink yourself from your reverie and hand the woman the cash for the ride. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she says, twisting around to look at you as you skootch across the backseat. “Hey—” You pause, looking at her. The orange glow of the streetlights rings like a halo around her head. “You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” you smile and nod.

A haze settles around your body as you climb out of the taxi. The hard edge of soberness and the sharpness of the winter air mixes and shocks life back into you as his question rings around your head. What are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your breath feels strained as you climb the echoing stairs to your home. The sound of the key fitting into the lock rings with a harsh click, but it brings you back into your body, to the little marks where Yoongi’s hands dug into you, to the confusion that rattles around your mind, and finally, and most devastatingly, the warmth that has sunk deep and inextricably into your heart.

The apartment is dark when you enter.

“Namjoon?” you call out.

No one answers. You don’t bother to flick on the lights as you feel your way blindly through the darkness, hand brushing against the soft fabric of your sofa, the bumpy texture of the wall, and finally the cold knob of your door. Instead of pushing the door open though, you lean against it, taking what feels like the first full breath of the night.

You look at the screen of your phone, Tae’s question, his voice, spiraling around your head. With a shaky breath you respond, fingers flying across the blue light of the screen.

you: something feels off. I don’t… i don’t want to mess anything up. I feel like the only way to keep things in order is to keep myself out of it all.

tae: can i call you?

you: yeah. Joon’s not home.

You finally press into your room. All that silver light from the city reflects off of the white flakes that flutter softly down from the sky. It spills onto your bed like a pool of molten silver, waiting, chilled and cold for you. You flop down onto it, your breath coming out in a long huff.

When your phone rings, there’s a second of hesitation before you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” your voice is shakier than you expected.

“One second.”

You hear the rustling sound of Tae getting out of bed and the door shutting.

“If I can hear you orgasming, Yoongi sure as hell can hear a phone call,” Tae whispers, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Unless you’re just always unreasonably loud.” You can imagine the sly smile that plays across his lips right now. Another door opened and shut and he sighs. “There. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I…”

You trail off. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what there is to say.

He says your name softly into the phone, the syllables forming such a familiar shape on his tongue. “Are you okay?”

“I...I don’t think so. I don’t feel great.”

“You’re home? Safe?”

“Yeah. I’m home.” You look around your room. Art on the walls, your little desk the messiest place in the room, stacked high with papers and photos and plants.

“Good.” Taehyung takes a long breath. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”

You want to. But your voice freezes in your throat and you can feel the way your silence falls around him.

After breaking up at nineteen, you and Taehyung had always remained friends. The truth was that even though you loved each other, you were so caught up in the physicality of it all that the rest of your relationship — and your relationships outside of that — began to deteriorate. No more sex, you both had decided. And at the time, that meant no more romance. There weren’t lingering feelings of resentment, but you did know — because you both talked about it — that you were both plagued with the lingering question of what if. What if…. But the answer was simple. You both needed more than what the other could offer.

Best friend turned lover turned best friend. If the lingering sexual tension was the only consequence of that, you could handle that. And if you were honest with yourself, you enjoyed it, in a safe, flattering kind of way.

But the reality was that the consequence of your relationship wasn’t limited to just a couple of sex dreams here and there or comments about your former sex life thrown about as jokes. The truth was that there was a permafrost of cautiousness that sat like a layer of ice beneath all of your interactions; one that only thawed away after midnight or a second drink.

Right now, the clock on the wall reads: 3:12am.

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“No — I want to.” You shake your head. “I should… I should talk to someone about this.” You take a deep breath as the sharp images of tonight’s events spiral around your mind. When you speak, it comes out a whisper. “I kissed Hobi tonight.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Or he kissed me. I don’t really — don’t really understand what happened, we were just standing there and had both had some drinks and suddenly it was happening and I should have kept everything within the normal boundaries, I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have overstepped our friendship, but we kissed and I…” Your voice trails off.

“And you liked it,” Taehyung finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I did.”

“And it scared you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then you both ran away from it.”

“Yeah.”

“And your way of running away from it was to go fuck Yoongi again, huh.”

“Goddamnit, Tae,” you huff, annoyed by how right he is.

Taehyung chuckles. “Babe, I’ve known you way too long for me to not pick up on these kinds of things. These kinds of patterns.”

“Patterns?”

Taehyung sighs through the phone. “I love you, dude, but… yeah. Yeah. It’s a pattern.”

As you let his words sink into you, you realize. It is a pattern.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks. “Do you really want to know what’s going on here?”

You laugh softly, even as fear nibbles at your heart. There’s a part of you that wants to turn into blindness. That wants to shield your heart from the reality of the situation. From the reality of yourself.

But there’s also something about facing into the truth — clear and cold like the night waiting just beyond your window. You want the shock of truth through your body, glaring and sharpened like ice. Because at the end of the day, you’ve had enough of this numbed ignorance.

“Yeah. Go for it.”  

“This might be out of the blue. And you might not want to hear it. I could be totally off—”

“Tae, it’s okay. I want to hear it.”

He takes a deep breath. “But maybe… just maybe, it’s time to think about the way you push people away.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper, although the reality of what he’s saying is already dawning on you, even if it’s at a glacial pace.

“How you let people in just long enough, just far enough, to let them see something authentic of you. But you don’t really let them take any real stake in your life.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And that’s okay!” He adds quickly. “At least, it has been okay. We do what we need to do to keep ourselves safe, but… I think you’re past that all now.” You take a shuddering breath and he pauses. “That place in your life where you need to keep the walls and the rules so strict for fear of falling. You’re not there anymore, babe. Maybe it’s time to start looking at the wall that you’ve built and considering letting yourself tear it apart.” And then, so softly you think his voice might be made of something as delicate as a flower petal: “You know, maybe it’s time to think about how you want to start letting love in again. Because you deserve it.”

It’s not until you brush your hand against your cheeks that you realize they’re wet. You look down at your fingertips, glistening with fallen tears, shining silver in the snowlight.

“Fuck, Tae.”

Taehyung lets loose a light, but pained, chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Goddamn it.”

Silence settles between the two of you. Tears slip silently down your face as you hold the phone to your ear. You can hear him breathing softly on the other end, but Taehyung doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he knows you need a minute to process.

His words slide right under your skin. Directed straight at the thing that has felt so heavy in your chest all night now, it’s as if the whole thing has been broken open within you. Suddenly, you can see it all.

The past years, this game of cat and mouse with your own vulnerability. This façade of carefully curated openness and faux vulnerability. All of the things that you kept as reminders of your freeness, your unlocked heart — the hookups, the fast and furious romances that ended in nothing but silence, the friendships you kept so carefully defined — were actually all just markers of the opposite:

A deep and abiding fear that if you let someone love you, a fear that if you let them close enough to really, truly see you, they might see something they won’t like.

Better to keep things clearly organized. Clearly marked and known and understood. That way you’d know exactly when things were spinning out of control and when someone was just about to get too close.

“You know, there are so many ways to love,” Taehyung says. “It doesn’t just have to be in that one way of fucking and falling in love and then a big white marriage, tada! the end. And, uh, it’s okay to want love. It’s really, really okay, actually. In whatever weird way love shows up for you, even if it’s not the traditional way. It’s even more okay to let yourself have that love, even if you don’t know what it is — don’t know what to call it.”

When your breath comes out shaky and ridden with tears, you can hear a soft oh echo through the phone.

“Hey,” Taehyung says with all the love in the world laced so delicately through his voice. “It’s okay. It might not feel like that right now. But opening up again — if, you know, if that’s what you want — that’s something you can do. It can be done.”

“I-I do, Tae. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting this.”

It’s as if you can hear his smile through the receiver.

“That makes me really happy to hear,” he says.

“Where do I even begin?” It comes out a whisper, your voice cracked from the tears that have begun to slow. You’re half afraid to even hear the answer. Half afraid to walk down the path riddled with your greatest fear.

“I think you begin by going to sleep. And in the morning I’ll call you. And I’ll keep calling you. And we’ll work through this together. You know, this isn’t something that you have to do alone.”

You’re silent.

“You’re in bed?” crackles through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Go put on some pjs and go to sleep. You don’t have to do this all in one night.”

You nod, wiping the rest of the tears from your face and sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you to the moon and back, no matter what. You know that. Right?”

You close your eyes. For a second you imagine accepting that it’s true. It fills your chest with a new kind of warmth. One you want to sink into.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you too, Tae.”

“Get some rest then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

The dial tone clicks and the room falls into complete silence. Only the sound of your breath breaks through, too loud and uncomfortable amidst the darkness. But still, you climb out of bed, dump some water on a towel and wipe at your face, and change into the largest t-shirt you can find in your drawer.

Tonight, you dream the first dream of many in a line that will haunt you — and spark you back to life. It’s Yoongi, his body pushing you up against the ice cold glass, his hands in your hair, his lips whispering, over and over and over again: Is it complicated?

In the morning, you lay awake, just feeling the way your breath falls heavily in your chest. You text Yoongi to tell him you can’t meet up. You look outside.

The world is covered in a blanket of snow. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. Washed clean.

Something hopeful flutters in your chest.

When you look down, your hands are clutching the collar of your sleep shirt. With a deep breath, you wrap your arms around your torso in a hug.

“I don’t really know how to do anything else other than this,” you admit to Tae one day over the phone, flourishing a hand you know he can’t see to emphasize the point you know he already understands.

“Well. I don’t know how much of it is really choosing to be different. Instead, maybe you ought to try looking at it like an undoing. Whenever you match up against that impulse to run, think about sitting with it. Feeling it. And then choosing to move in another direction. Yeah,” he says, and you can tell he’s nodding on the other end of the phone. “An undoing.”

What does this kind of undoing look like? you wonder.

When the world comes to a screeching halt around you, you don’t expect to find your answer. The reality of the pandemic and quarantine — the emptiness of it, the long, drawn out days that feel long and drawn out when you’re in them but that then seem to blend together into one long, monotonous, anxiety riddled day and leave you wondering and wishing for the end — it’s hard. It’s hard in that quiet way that’s easy to ignore and push off, and hard in the way that there’s a big ache in your chest every time you go to sleep, one that crawls straight into your throat and sits there until the morning. It’s hard, and you learn to live with it. It’s hard, but somehow it brings you what you need. When distance seems to be the defining feature of your life, you don’t expect to find clarity. But you do. As you sink into the new routine of quarantine and pandemic life, and as life begins in a new rhythm with new rules and new realities — slowly and wildly new and sometimes horrific — it becomes clear to you.

What does this kind of undoing look like?

It looks a lot like feeling the emptiness in your home when Namjoon is away. Silence louder, space smaller. You find yourself reflected back to yourself, as if you are staring in a mirror.

It looks a lot like distraction. Emotional exhaustion turning into physical. You do distract — and it’s good — with a new drama or a new hobby. Exercising in your room until your cheeks are flushed. Cooking something new and delicious every night. Or sometimes just letting the small rectangle of light in your hand absorb you until the lingering discomfort is numbed, until you’re ready to fall asleep.

It looks like listening to your thoughts, really, truly listening, for the first time. Hearing the stories that you’ve built up in your head over the ears and how deeply they’ve sunk into your reality. It looks like noticing them, and wanting them to change. It looks like standing in the empty hallway of your apartment, feeling it all, and deciding to do something about it.

It looks like weird-ass sex dreams. Once dreamless nights are repopulated with strange and specific sexual fantasies featuring none other than your seven gorgeous friends in various states of undress and revelry.

It looks like letting people in again. Laughing on the phone until tears well up in your eyes. Building up the courage to tell Jimin about your vivid, even pornographic dreams. Writing letters when facetime just doesn’t do it anymore. Telling your friends just how much they mean to you, even when that voice warns you that you ought to keep your feelings held tight to your chest.

It looks like falling asleep one night, the traffic of the city now quieted by reduced travel, and the silence offering you a new kind of truth:

Love can be without limitation.

Love can be without limitation. It is allowed to flow from you without doubt or embarrassment. It is allowed to exist in the world — and in you — without needing to be reciprocated or validated. And you are allowed to ask for it. To demand it from life, even if, at times, it feels like the only place it pours forth from is from that great gaping space in your chest.  

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s cut off in the middle of a digital brrng. You’re ready to hear the familiar buzz of a robotic voice reading: the caller you are trying to reach is not available—

But instead, the deep, heady voice you’re so familiar with comes over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?” His name feels foreign on your tongue. After all this time, pushing it away, pushing him away, welcoming his name back into your body feels almost like a fresh rain, washing away the dust on your skin.

“The one and only,” he chuckles. “What’s up?”

A ball of emotion wells up in your throat and the phone line hangs in silence as you try to glue together what you want to say, what you had practiced to say, what you should say. But it feels as if it’s all disappeared. 

“I thought—”

“Did I mess up?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion. “What? No, I—”

“That night, I had so much to drink, I’m worried that… I messed up, that— ”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hoseok.”

You can hear the breath release from his lungs and shudder through the phone. “Oh.” It’s silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“I just…” You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you like there’s an ocean between us,” he says, laughter mixed with sincerity threading through his voice.

“It feels like there’s ocean between us,” you sigh.

“I know,” he says, too quickly for him to realize the meaning behind your words. “But I promise this will all be over soon, babe. How long can something like this really last? In no time it’ll all be done with and I’ll be right back beside you. Right?”

You smile. “Right.”

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[personasintro]

Hope World; 04 | jhs

synopsis; You’ve decided to try dancing class, but the one who teaches you how to dance actually hates you.

warnings: strong language

words count: 5k 

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

masterlist link

A/N: Please let me know what you think about this one, I’ll be very happy for any feedback x 

The worst thing about getting drunk is probably the hangover following after on the next day. Waking up from your deep sleep, gagging and then throwing up into the bucket — which you’re sure Namjoon put there — isn’t really a nice way to go through your hangover. You’ve no idea what time is it, but it’s still dark outside — birds chirping outside. When you’re done with emptying your stomach, you don’t feel much better simply falling back into the bed. Too drunk to notice you’re not in your bed.

The second time you wake up, you feel slightly better. Your stomach hurts and it’s sensitive from all the alcohol you’ve drank. The headache is in its full impact, making you feel like your head is going to burst any second.

“Ow, fuck!” Is being heard with loud and disgusted voice. Glancing up at the opened door, you see Namjoon scrunching his face in disgust, quickly clogging his nose. His movements to the windows are fast — opening it wide open for the sun to come into the room.

Shutting your eyes you groan, the awful taste of vomits in your mouth. “How is my sleeping beauty?” Namjoon asks, still in safe distance from you, breathing the fresh air. Before he left you, he opened the window slightly not really expecting his room to smell this bad.

You’re too tired to glare his way, only shutting your eyes. “I feel like shit.” You mumble against your hand, which is covering your mouth.

“You even smell like it.” He chuckles, coming your way. “Fucking god! Did you throw up shit from the last year or what?” He asks, clogging his nose once again.

The bucket is filled with your vomits, making you put your hand over your mouth. “Please, don’t throw up again.” He pleads you, the bucket in his hand.

“I won’t! Just put it away from me.” You say, the muffled sound coming from your mouth. He listens to you and quickly walks away, the bucket still in his hands. You hear toilet flashing and then showering, when he comes back.

“I didn’t know if you’ll throw up again, so I brought this just in case.” He says, putting now clean bucket beside bed.

“God, my head hurts so much!” You say, sitting up feeling it pound even more. Namjoon motions to the glass of water and two pills on his nightstand. Quickly reaching for it, you swallow it laying right back into the soft pillows. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He says, sitting on the end of his bed.

His bed.

“Wait,” You speak confusingly. “What are we doing at yours?”

He chuckles, remembering your drunk self. “I had to bring you with me, since you could barely walk. You drooled all over me during our way to here in taxi.”

“I don’t even remember when I got so drunk.” You mumble, praying the pills will work as soon as possible.

“Yeah, me neither. Since I told you to stay and wait for me but you left.” He gives you a glare and you feel guilty not even knowing why.

You remember how you sat there watching him dancing with that guy. Well, while drinking alcohol but you don’t remember drinking that much. “I... left? Where?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “I was dancing with Jin and I was about to check up on you, but then I saw you were gone. I panicked and started searching for you. Then I saw you with some guy.”

“Guy?” You almost screeched, not liking the sound of this.

“I don’t know, I don’t know him...” He shrugs again. “He said he saw you standing outside, so he brought you inside the club. He didn’t look like he’d hurt you in any way and to be honest, I was glad you’re okay. So I didn’t ask too many questions and quickly brought you here.” He explains.

“Joon,” You start nervously. “Do you think I had sex with him?”

“I mean.. at least you’d get some but no... I don’t think you did. You weren’t gone for a long time.” He assures you, making you breathe out in relief. It’d be awful to have a sex with someone and then not remembering it at all.

Like Namjoon said, he was checking up on you every five minutes. He saw you simply sitting on the bar stool, but then when he looked five minutes later — you weren’t there. That’s when he quickly left without saying proper goodbye to Jin, searching for you. His heart beat so fast — the worst scenarios playing in his head. Thankfully he found you, looking absolutely wasted but he didn’t care. He was glad you’re okay and safe.

“I’m so sorry, Joonie.” You pouted, guilt written all over your face.

“Why are you apologizing?” He laughs at you, slowly shaking his head. “Yeah, I was angry that you left just like that.. but because of you really scared me. But you don’t have to apologize for anything. We had a good time, minus the dramatic searching for you.”

You both laugh at your eventful night, having no idea it’d turn out this way. “Wait, you said Jin? Is that a guy who you danced with?”

Namjoon looks away, his cheeks red. “Oh my god! You’re blushing!” You squeak, sitting up ignoring the pounding in your head — which is better now. Which means those pills are helping.

“No? What are you talking about?” He asks, not looking your way simply looking everywhere but not at you.

“Oh, come on! I always tell you about other boys! It’s not fair!” You pouted like little child.

“It’s not like I’m asking you.” He says just to spite you little bit, which works. You throw the small pillow beside you at him. He quickly catches it before it can land on his face.

“I don’t really know much about it. We danced, we barely talked but... he was really handsome.”

“Handsome? That’s it?”

“What are you expecting?” He asks dumbfounded.

You shrug. “Something along the lines, how hot he is and how would you fu—“

“Okay! That’s enoug,.” He claps his hands standing up. “You should go and take a shower because you smell like shit.” With those words he’s leaving, but not before you throw another pillow his way. This time, hitting the back of the door which he quickly shuts, before it could hit him.

Hearing his laugh, you scrunched your nose in disgust when you could smell your hair which got into your face. It smells from smoke, alcohol and probably your vomits — not really wanting to know the truth for your own good — you made your way into the shower trying to wipe that awful smell of you.

Coming to Namjoon’s kitchen, feeling fresh maybe from the outside, but your stomach still hurts. “I’ve made chicken soup. It’ll help with hangover.” He says, putting small bowl with soup in it on the table.

You smile at his kind gesture, thanking him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all of this and not throw up later.” You say jokingly, even though being absolutely honest.

“It’s okay. Just have a little taste, you probably threw up everything.” He chuckles sitting opposite side of you.

He is right. Your stomach feels pretty empty, although you don’t feel any hunger. Knowing eating something might help you — well, either it will help you or you’ll throw up later. Sipping slowly on the soup, in case eating fast would make you want to throw up, you don’t see Namjoon’s eyes on you. “So, what about Hoseok?” He asks suddenly, making you almost spit the soup out.

“Hoseok?” You ask with wide eyes, surprised he even brought him up in the first place. Namjoon never really talked about him by himself, it has always been you.

“Well, you spent quite some time talking about him. Mostly about how hot and attractive is.”

Pursuing your lips, you cough little bit to mask your embarrassment. “Your point...?” You almost grumble. Of course, you remember you talked about him. You weren’t that drunk not to remember it. You were tipsy and didn’t have much control of your mouth.

“I don’t even know. I guess, I wanted to see if it’s true or you just rumbled nonsense because of your drunkenness.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk then!”

He laughs at you. “Yeah, which is probably even worse.”

You glare at him, continuing in eating in your soup. He watches you with curious eyes, so you sigh putting the spoon away. “I don’t know... I don’t really like him as a person, even though he is better now. I still feel like he hates me, which he probably does. But I don’t know... whenever we practice and he dances I can’t stop thinking about how hot he looks.” You explain awkwardly not believeing you’re saying it out loud. One thing is thinking about it, but now you’re confessing to your best friend.

“I know where’s problem,” He says confidently, leaning his back against stool. “You’re sexually frustrated.”

“You think?” You ask unsurely.

“Of course!” He exclaims. “You haven’t got laid in so long and you’re seeing him dancing like some sex god, of course you’re going to feel horny.” He says shamelessly.

“Well, horny is maybe too strong—“

“Anyway,” He cuts you off while waving his hand. “I know what we should do.”

“And what is that?” You ask quirking your brows at him. “Please, just don’t say clubbing because I don’t think I can handle it.” You say caressing your stomach.

“No,” He shakes his head. “I think, we need to find you a hookup.”

“Hookup? Joon, I’m not that type—“

“Then we’ll find you a date then. You need a man, girl.” He says grinning proudly like he achieved something really great.

Trying to date someone doesn’t sound too bad. You never really tried to found something, always thinking you’ll find someone eventually. You still think that way, but it doesn’t seem like a bad idea now. You can always just try it and see where it goes.

“How are we going to do that? I’m not going into the streets with purpose of finding some guy for me.” You roll your eyes.

“Darling,” He raises his brows. “We’ll try a dating app.”

Agreeing with Namjoon’s idea of dating app, you didn’t know he’d download it the next day. What you also didn’t know was — you’d have your date in two days.

Shiro.

Shiro was his name. It was probably the worst date you’ve ever been on. That guy constantly talked about himself, not really letting you speak. It made you feel, he didn’t really care about you. You were just there listening to his crap.

You swore that night, you’ll never contact nor going on a date with him again. He filled your phone with hundreds of messages asking, where can he take you next. Casually typing him that you’re not interested probably hurt his ego, because he begged you for another chance. And your kind yourself, agreed. You should give him another chance. You planned on meeting up after your practice, which now ended. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you check the time on your phone. You still have an hour and a half to get ready — just time to quickly take a shower and dressing up nicely. Inconspicuously looking at Hoseok, packing his own stuff, you bite your lip. His sharp jawline defining his face, while his dark eyes are focused on his stuff. He’s been weird today. He barely told you any words and to be fair, you don’t know whether to be happy or not. It’s like he’s keeping distance.

“Staring is rude, you know.” He speaks for like fifth time to you today, not looking at you. He keeps packing up his stuff.

You awkwardly cough from the embarrassment scoffing. “Why would I stare at you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He speaks, this time standing up looking at you deeply.

Standing up just like he did, your sport bag in your hand. “You’re really confident in yourself.” You almost mock him.

“An apparently with perfect body.” He adds, smirking little bit at that.

You snort, laughing to yourself. “Oh please,” You scoff. “Who said that?” You ask shaking your head in disbelief. He’s so far up his own ass.

“You,” He says, making you snap your head at him. “You did.” He says casually.

You stand frozen searching his eyes for anything that could tell you he’s just messing with you. But he looks too serious. “Good one, you almost got me.” You say chuckling.

He’s probably just an amazing actor. He could be with that face, but that’s beside the point.

“I’m not lying, you really said that.,” He smirks. “You called me completely drunk saying that.”

Your blood runs cold. Did you really call him? Trying to remember the whole night seems too blurry and hard. The fact that you can’t remember some moments from that night, makes you consider if he’s really lying.

“You’re... lying.” You say quietly not really sure anymore.

“Am I?” He asks walking closer to you. Your heart beats so fast you swear you can hear it. “You were so fucking drunk and thirsty for me.” He says with his stupid smirk again.

He stands right in front of you, looking down at you. You can feel the warmth coming from his body and his amazing manly smell. How can he smell this amazing after dancing the whole day? “I’m not thirsty, especially for you.” You lie through your teeth.

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear and it makes you flinch from the sudden touch. “If you wanted me that bad, you should’ve told me.” He says darkly.

You stare right back at him not knowing whether he’s telling you the truth or not. You can see his face perfectly, the skin glowing and looking healthy. “I don’t want you.” You speak through your teeth, not moving an inch. He chuckles at that, clearly not believing you.

“Why aren’t you pushing me away then?”

You stand, realizing how close he is to you. His chest almost touching yours, too close to you. Realization hits you and you step back, not even pushing him away. “You’re insane.” You comment, your voice slightly trembling.

“Aren’t we both?” He asks quietly, but still holding the eye contact with you. “Anyway,” He speaks, his attitude completely changing. “I’ve more important things to do, so get out.” He tells you mindlessly while waving at you, walking towards his stuff.

“Idiot,” You mumble under your breath, grumpily walking out of the studio as you hear his loud voice yelling ‘I heard that!’. Chuckling, you yell back at him. “Good!”

Fucking idiot.

What you don’t expect when you finally come home, is your mother standing in front of your door, impatiently looking at her perfectly red nails. “Mom?” You ask, slowly walking towards her trying to find your keys. “What are you doing here?” You ask right away, not really expecting her to come here. And not at this time.

“That’s a really nice welcoming for your mom, Y/N.” She comments, her eyebrows narrowed at you. Fuck, she’s pissed. “I called you, but of course you didn’t answer.” She says as you’re opening your front door, letting her to come in first. You notice her travel bag with her causing you to gulp. As much as you love her, you really hope she won’t stay for the night. That’s the last thing you need. It’s finally weekend tomorrow and you want to enjoy it. Not spending it with your mother commenting — well, everything.

“I guess it’s on silent mode. I had my dance practice.” You mumble as you’re putting your sport bag into your bedroom.

“To answer your question,” She starts as she sits down on the couch. “I got into an argument with your ignorant father, so I’ll stay the night.” She tells you, obviously angry at your dad as you hear her tone.

“What happened?” You ask worriedly, not liking the sound of that. Yeah, your mother can be the pain in the ass but they barely got into a fight. She’s quiet for a moment, pursing her lips in response.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. I’ll just stay the night and leave tomorrow morning.” She shrugs, chasing you to roll your eyes. Thank god she can’t see you from the direction you’re standing. 

“Yeah, little heads up would be nice.” You say under your breath, but of course your mother with her perfect hearing hears you as she shoots you a glare. You wonder if you look as much as scary as her. But if you did, Hoseok would probably leave you alone and wouldn’t act like a ignorant ass.

“I called you but you didn’t answer.” She furrows her brows, her eyes shooting daggers your way. Isn’t she suppose to be nice you’re letting her stay? “Yeah, I was more talking about a little heads up... I don’t know... maybe at least a day ahead?” You ask with crooked smile as she shoots you another of her scary glares. She’s opening her mouth to tell you something, or probably bark at you which is more likely — but a loud knocking interrupts her. Thank god, you’re saved.

“Excuse me.” You tell her maybe too happily, happy to get out of that conversation. You should probably call your dad and tell him to come and get her. But knowing him, he’s just as much stubborn as she is. He’ll eventually give in and crawl back to her as always, but he’ll act like he doesn’t care for now.

When you open the front door, you definitely not expect to Hoseok standing there. He eyes you, seeing your sweaty hair pulled into a lazy bun wearing the same clothes you wore to the practice, scrunching his nose at you. You glare at him seeing his judging eyes. He wears similar outfit to the one he wore just half an hour ago. A fresh scent of shower gel is coming from him meaning he took a shower after you left. At least someone had to time to do so. “Oh look, another uninvited guest.” You grumble under your breath as he furrows his brow.

“Oh look, I guess I’ll keep this then.” He says pulling your phone from his back pockets. You must’ve forgot it on the floor as you had your mini interaction with Hoseok.You reach for your phone but he steps back, stretching his arm up so you can’t reach it.

“Give it back.” You spit, not in the mood of playing games with him. You refuse to try and reach for your phone knowing you stand no chance to actually reach it. But you still do it and he chuckles when you fail — as expected. You ignore the amazing scent coming from him as you step back.

“You’re such a brat. I came to bring you your phone you forgot and you’re still bitchy.” He comments with a scoff. You kind of feel guilty because he really could’ve just leave it there for you to find out you actually forgot to bring your phone. That’s why you haven’t heard your mom call. And you’re ready to apologize to him when you catch yourself not to do so. Just a one look at his cold eyes he’s giving you stops you.

“What should I do? Kiss your feet?” You scoff, as he pulls his arm down eyeing you like you’d jump on him any second. You probably will. But to take your phone, of course.

“Hmm, you can kiss my ass.” He answers with snort and you’re ready to attack him, when the door opens wider causing you to almost fall. You don’t even have to look who’s next to you when you can smell your mother’s expensive perfume.

“I was wondering what’s taking you so long, but I didn’t know such an handsome man is in front of your door.” She says with polite smile, eyeing Hoseok up and down as you’re ready to gag. Is she checking him out? Just as you open your mouth to come up with some lie that you don’t actually know him, of course — the devil itself must open his mouth.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Jung Hoseok.” His devilish behavior suddenly disappears and sunshine smile spreads on his lips. He’s suddenly all cheerful and nice causing you to wonder if he really just hates you or he’s such an awesome actor.

“Well hello,” Your mother sheepishly giggles like some high schooler and you roll your eyes. “I’m Y/N’s mom.” She tells him.

“Really? I thought you’re her older sister.” And here we go with the lame and cheesy thing to do and you can’t help yourself but snort at this. Your mother nudges you harshly as she blushes from Hoseok’s words.

“Oh, please. I know I’m older now.” She waves her hand causing Hoseok to grin. “But you don’t look that old.” Do they want you to leave so the two of them can continue with their chat?

“Thank you, Hoseok.” She thanks him politely, smile so wide her cheeks must hurt. “Yes, thank you, Hoseok. You can leave now.” You tell him with a glare and fake happy tone, not caring he didn’t give you your phone. He can have it. It’s not like anyone important will call you and sooner or later he’ll give it back. What would he do with your phone anyway.

Your mother actually slaps your shoulder as she glares at you. “You’re so rude, Y/N. I swear, you got this from your father,” She mumbles under her breath, her anger towards your dad appearing again. “Please come in.” She says, pulling Hoseok already in. The worst thing about it is, that he isn’t protesting. He steps inside your home, nudging your shoulder in the process with his stupid grin. Your mother is practically sprinting to the kitchen, probably preparing something to him.

“Didn’t you tell me you’ve something better to do?” You ask through your gritted teeth, looking straight at his amused face. Your eyes adverts to his lips for a second before you quickly catch yourself, praying he didn’t notice it. But the smug smirk on his lips tells you otherwise as he steps closer. He twirls a small strand of your hair onto his finger. You want to smack his face but you don’t pull away watching his every move.

“I think this is way better.” His voice is low as he stares at you with those deep brown eyes causing you to gulp. You hate the fact you’re giving him a reaction — something he always wanted. A reaction which amused him, causing him to feel like he’s the winner.

“Where are you? Come on!” Your mom calls from the kitchen causing you to grumble annoyingly. Hoseok’s smirk disappearing for a moment. “Should I leave?” He asks, his attitude completely different throwing you off little bit. It’s like he just slapped you in the face.

“It’s too late to ask that,” You mumble hating yourself for what you’re about to do. “My mom would probably kill me if I just throw you out.” You admit knowing you wouldn’t sleep for a whole night listening to her constant nugging. Plus, she’s pretty much furious about whatever fight they had with your dad.

You hear his silent footsteps behind you causing you to stop, turning around abruptly. He’s shocked for a moment, eyes widened as he stares at you. You point your finger at him, digging it into his incredibly hard chest and you have to stop yourself from imagining how it looks like under the soft material of his T-shirt. “No funny business.” You warn him, satisfied when he slowly nods. Your mom made him some tea, apologizing for the lack of snacks not forgetting to mention you’ve nothing eatable in your fridge.

“So, are you two friends?” She asks as she finally sits down, her eyes focused on Hoseok who sits on the opposite side of her — next to you. You laugh, an actual laugh leaving your lips as Hoseok glares at you. “Yeah, we’re. I’m her dance instructor.” He answers before you can, causing you to glare at him. Why is he lying to your mom?

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you! I hope Y/N is doing good in your classes.” She tells him, eyeing you for a moment. You can feel your heart beating faster as you catch a glimpse of the look she’s giving. And you just hope she won’t bring anything up in front of Hoseok. You don’t need him to laugh at you or the both of them to hate on you. You shift on your spot, not daring to look at either of them.

“She’s not that bad.” Hoseok surprises you. Your head snaps to his, eyeing his face but he doesn’t look at you. He’s looking at your mom with honest eyes. And the tone he used wasn’t filled with sarcasm or anything similar either.

“Well, I hope she’ll be even better. She needs it.” She says casually. You bite into your lips, eyes quickly adverting elsewhere from Hoseok as you see him widening his mouth slightly. This obviously caught him off guard, not expecting your mother to say something like that. But sadly, you’ve been waiting for her to say something related to that. However you hoped she wouldn’t. Unfortunately for you, she had to open her mouth in front of Hoseok. Hoseok, off all the people. Can this get worse?

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, ma’am.” Hoseok says unsurely, still not looking at you. Thank god, or else he’d see your red face filled with embarrassment.

“I meant her weight. I think she needs to loose some weight, so she looks more healthy.” She speaks, her words cutting straight into your heart as you’re listening to her. You’re not even that embarrassed anymore, hurt replacing it instead. You can feel Hoseok’s eyes on you causing you to shrink into your seat avoiding his brown eyes. You feel so small suddenly, the need to disappear has never been so strong like right now. Hoseok is aware of your behavior. You’re not that bratty girl who opens her rude mouth at him whenever she wants anymore. Instead he sees an adult woman being self conscious, embarrassed and hurt by her mother’s words. He sees your teeth digging into your lower lip as you’re trying to prevent yourself from crying. Your eyes becoming too glossy to go unnoticed by him.

“She looks pretty healthy to me.” Hoseok speaks, his voice low as he stares deeply into your mother’s eyes. She smiles at him, slowly shaking her head.

“You don’t have to be that polite. Y/N knows about her figure.” Your mother waves with her hand carelessly, but Hoseok doesn’t let go that easily. His brows furrows not understanding how your own mother can talk like that about you in front of you. How can she talk like that in general? You’re her daughter.

“She looks amazing. Her figure is just fine.” He says, his voice louder as he’s trying to get it through your mother’s thick skull. You’re surprised by Hoseok’s words and support towards you, but you’re too hurt and embarrassed to focus on that. A shriek of your stool echoes through your small kitchen, causing the both of them to look at you.

“I need to use bathroom. Excuse me.” You mumble, mentally thanking yourself that your voice didn’t shiver like you thought it would. You can feel someone’s eyes on your back, betting it’s Hoseok, but you quickly scurry into your bathroom. You lock the door, your back colliding with them as you breathe heavily. You can’t believe your mother would go that far to humiliate you in front of Hoseok. In front of anyone. You’re pretty much used to her doing that, but when there’s no one else around. A soft knock causes you to jump in surprise. Your cheeks are wet from tears you didn’t realize that fell in the first place.

“Y/N? It’s me, Hoseok.” His soft voice calls from the other side of the door.

“I’m f-fine!” You call out, cursing when you stutter. Quickly scurrying to the mirror you check your appearance. Your eyes are slightly red but since you haven’t wore mascara, your eyes aren’t smudged.

“Open the door,” He says with soft voice. You try to control your breathing, turning on the cold water so you can freshen up your face. When you dry it with the towel, you slowly open the door. Hoseok stands there, his hand leaning against the door frame. He checks your face, his eyes filled with something you haven’t seen on him. “Are you okay?” He asks cocking his head little bit as he straightens up his posture. You eye his plain white socks which are much more interesting now.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” You nervously chuckle trying to act like nothing happened and you’re completely unaffected by all of this. But despite Hoseok not knowing you that much, he can see right through you. Your reddened eyes and fake smile says it all that indeed, you’re not okay.

And you hate when he smiles pitifully at you. Great, Jung Hoseok is pitying you. That’s the last thing you need. “Um, okay...” He mumbles, thankfully not pressuring you into anything. “I’ll see you next week?” He asks rather awkwardly causing you to only nod. “Okay. Bye.” He waves at you with slight smile not waiting for you to say anything. He simply turns around and leaves while you watch his lean back. You notice your phone laying on the small table beside your photo frames. Slowly taking it into your hands, your screen lights up with a new message. 

Hoseok: Hope I’ll see you on our next practice, goodnight

Did he just put his own phone number into your phone? You almost forgot that you’ve deleted his number when he pissed you off and you swore you’ll never have to see him again. 

“Idiot...” You mumble annoyingly, ignoring the wide smile on your lips that’s there ever since you’ve read his message.

#bts #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #방탄소년단 #bts au #bts smut #hoseok scenario #bts fluff #bts angst #personasintro #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut

[silhouetted-beauty]

“Run In: Fate” - Part 9 (Finale)

Genre: Angst, Smut, and Fluff

Warning: Graphic Scenes- Mentions torture, killing, and death.

Word Count: 15.5K

A/N: First I would like to apologize for posting this so late (I’m like weeks past my deadline!). I hoped you all enjoyed this series all the way up until now and please don’t feel afraid to reach out to me about your thoughts as well as questions you have about this chapter or the series in general. Shit! I wasn’t sad before but now that I’m typing all this out, I lowkey feel a sense of sadness. Yoongi’s character in this series was fun to work with and now that it’s over, I gotta find a new series that he can fit into. The next is Namjoon!^^

“Yoongi...”

His eyes fluttered in his sleep.

“Do it again.”

Searing pain and screaming was all that filled his mind. He turned his head hoping to lose the distance memory.

“Again.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“AND AGAIN!”

His body tensed, clutching the sheets as he shifted once more.

“Yoongi...”

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the hands of his tormentors; staring the main one in the eyes.

“Welcome back. I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses; wouldn’t want you to miss anything.” Sujin teased with a smirk on her lips. “Now that you’re up, why don’t we begin again?”

She stepped away and watched as her men twisted the levers of the machine to stretch his arms high in the air to showcase his bare torso. Another man took a sledgehammer; slowly walking towards Yoongi and raised it in the air, bringing the solid tool down against his chest. Yoongi yelled out against the impact, trying to flex his muscles to feel less of the oncoming blows. Over and over, he was hit until he felt one of his ribs break; causing him to scream in agony.

“There it goes!” Sujin yelled in joy. Yoongi’s head hung low as he coughed up blood. His breathing instantly became shallow as it was a struggle to breathe without feeling pain. “Nice job, Yoongi. I’m very pleased. How about we try that again?”

And again he screamed at the feeling of pain hitting his chest until his bones broke under pressure. One rib, two, three... 

Yoongi was barely breathing as Sujin stared him in the face. She watched the blood drip from his mouth, down his chin, and fall unto the ground. His hair and face dripped with perspiration and his body trembled with every breath. Easing closer to him, Sujin fell to her knees between his legs. Already, she could see his skin was beginning to change color. She brought her face close to his body to examine it.

“Oh, Yoongi,” She softly spoke to him. Her eyes closed as she leaned forward to kiss his tender flesh. Yoongi grunted, tensing at the feeling of her lips brushing against his battered chest. “Look at you... you’ve never looked more attractive than you do now.”

When he didn’t respond, she stood to her feet. “Who would have thought I’d have the powerful mobster so submissive in front of me.” She chuckled seductively. “I have to admit, it’s turning me on more than ever.”

Sujin motioned for her men to release him from the contraption, only to tie him up to another. Yoongi’s legs and arms were bound and his body levitated above ground by a couple inches. She broke open a bottle of amyl nitrate and held it under his nose.

Yoongi instantly became alert and although the drug relieved the pain in his chest, unfortunately; he was awake and oriented for the next part of his torture.

“Frankie use to brag about how concentrated you was when you worked, especially when you tortured your victims. In vivid detail, I knew what you did and how you did it.” She said with a smile. “And now I’m proud to say how I’ve adopted one of your methods and added a little bit of something of my own.”

She nodded to one of her men who stood behind Yoongi with a large knife. Seconds later, he felt the blade pierce his skin as the tip cut a deep line across his back. In quick motions, the blade marred his body repeatedly; leaving Yoongi to grunt in pain at the wounds. He could feel trails of blood dripped from each cut and soak into his pants.

“Now... the fun part.” Sujin stated, watching Yoongi’s face closely. Another one of her men stood along side of the other with a small container in his hand. Before Yoongi had time to brace himself, extreme pain filled his body as he yelled out. “They say that salt is good for a wound but not when it’s used like this.”

Once again, the man poured a handful of salt into his palm before slapping it onto another gash and rubbing it in. Yoongi thrashed around until the pain subsided and he became weak. Even though the man had stopped, it left an aching; burning sensation along the lesions. It felt as though his skin was peeling off. Each laceration were red with irritation and covered with a layer of salt.

“Please give me the pleasure of destroying your life, Yoongi.” Sujin said as she walked closer, examining him. She grabbed him by the face and made him look at her. “Grant me the pleasure of taking away everything you cherish and love.”

At the motion of her movements, one of her men delivered one final deep slash to his back.

Yoongi leaped up from his slumber, sitting up in bed. The sky was still dark but it was in early hours of the morning. The room was dark but he was able to make out everything inside. You were asleep, resting peacefully on your side. His sudden movements, somehow, did not interrupt your dream state. His hand rub over his back, he could almost feel the pain from when it happened.

He pulled the covers back and gotten out of bed, leaving you alone in the room. Yoongi walked downstairs with his phone in hand for use.

“Mmph.. Hello?” A sleepy voice answered on the second ring. But when Yoongi didn’t respond, Namjoon answered again. “Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What’s going? Is everything okay?”

Yoongi was silent as he tried to get his thoughts together. “It is now that I know you’re okay.”

“What do you mean?” Namjoon was now up and alert at the tone of his friend’s voice. Something was wrong.

He sighed. “I dreamt of my captivity for the first time since it happened. I can’t explain why but I can’t shake the feeling that something bad has happened or will happen.”

Namjoon felt bad. Yoongi never really opened up about happened to him while he was locked away and he hated that it still haunted him. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I’m okay.” He tried to joke it neither one of them laughed. “And I’m sure Hoseok is too.”

“I’m sure I’m just wasting my time but I’m going to call him anyway.” Yoongi paused for a second. “Jimin too.”

“I’m sure the prince of the castle is perfectly fine with the way he keeps his home guarded.”

“... yeah. I’ll touch bases with you later.”

Yoongi hung up and dial both numbers. Neither answered but he was certain that they were both asleep, wrapped in the arms of their girlfriends; something he should have been doing as well. Glancing in the corner, he looked at all of your belongings packed at the doorway.

He let out a low sigh and headed back upstairs. When Yoongi made it inside the bedroom, he found your arm and leg thrown across his pillow; hugging it as if it was him. The sight alone made him smile as he stare down at you but then his smile vanished at the thought of what happened only a couple hours prior.

In a single day, you almost walked out on him, refused his marriage proposal, and accused him of not loving you. Even to this day, Yoongi struggled with trying to figure you out. You always left him clueless when it came to figuring out what you wanted.

Whenever he thought he understood, you reminded him that he had to think outside the box if he wanted to make you happy. You had walked away from him once before and he wasn’t going to let that happen a second time. He loved you too much to let that happen.

~~~~~

One kick.

One push...

It stopped then moments later started back up again; this time more frequently. You rolled over from your side to your back, trying to get comfortable. But even then you couldn’t; not with his constantly moving about, alerting you that he was now awake.

You were slowly pulled from your sleep at the pressure Jihyun was putting on your body. You were seconds from opening your eyes when you heard Yoongi’s voice. And with the way Jihyun was reacting, you figured Yoongi must have been talking to him. Playing along, you faked sleep and listened in on the conversation.

He sighed. “I only want what’s best for you... for both of you.” He began. “I refuse to let anyone hurt you; I would sacrifice myself repeatedly to keep you both safe.”

Yoongi softly placed his hand on your stomach and you felt Jihyun stop all movements and push against that one spot. You kept your eyes closed tight but the tears were beginning to slip out from the creases.

“You won’t understand what I’m doing until you’re older but if only I can make mommy understand now; my actions and what I’m doing now will all be beneficial for us in the end.” He scoffed. “She’s a very stubborn woman; you’ll soon witness it firsthand. She can be difficult majority of the time but she has daddy wrapped around her finger.” Yoongi shook his head, rubbing over the small bump poking out. “Thanks for listening but get some sleep before you wake her up.”

Almost on command, Jihyun had stopped moving and relaxed into a comfortable position. You turned your head, opening your eyes to look at him, taking Yoongi by surprise. His eyes opened wide with shock as you caught him off guard.

“How long have you been awake?”

“For awhile. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on your conversation with him.” You smiled. Yoongi moved closer to you, taking your face in his hand.

“Baby, I’m sorry for making you feel as though you don’t matter. You are my world and I need you by my side, always. I refuse to lose you over something stupid like a name but it is also equally important to me that Jihyun has my name. That doesn’t mean that I care for you any less. You are just as important; if not more because you are carrying him.” His thumb wiped away tears that had fallen. “I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear from the beginning. I want you to happy and happy as my wife, taking on my name as well. Y/n, will you marry a fool like me?”

You tried to bite down your laugh at how red Yoongi’s face had gotten at his proposal. He was a master at hiding his feelings from the world but when it came to you, you had a front row view into the soul of the famous, cold, dangerous mobster known as Min Yoongi.

You nodded, letting fresh tears spill over the rims of your eyes. “Yes.”

Yoongi pulled out that small velvety box, taking out the ring and placing it on your finger. He barely had time to react when you pulled him closer to kiss his lips. He responded instantly, letting the kiss become passionate to the point when you two had come up for air, you were breathing heavy.

You smiled; cuddling your face against his neck; wanting to feel closer but one small movement you both felt had you both looking down at your belly.

“I thought you were sleep, little man.” Yoongi groaned out.

“He will go back; he just wanted his favorite person to know that he heard that.” You teased, causing him to smile too.

He kissed your lips again; softly pecking at them repeatedly. His arm that was wrapped around your chest moved so that his hand was now groping your full breasts through your shirt. Yoongi broke away to kiss down your neck.

“You know, I heard pregnant sex is equivalent to great sex.”

“Who told you that?” You laughed. “Sounds like something Namjoon would say.”

However Yoongi didn’t answer. His hand wandered to the end of the shirt and pulled it up slightly. Pushing your legs apart, he quickly found what he was looking for between them.

His middle and ring fingers rubbed along your slit while he licked and sucked on your neck. You moaned, spreading your leg wider and rotating your hips to feel more of his hand. Your head fell back at his fingers brushing over your clit. In a circular motion, Yoongi rub over the bud before letting his fingers dip back down to your entrance. You had become wet but he wanted you even wetter to take him.

He sat up and spread your legs wider, now using both hands to pleasure you. Yoongi eased two fingers inside your pussy, instantly locating your spot and massaging against it while his other fingers stroked, rubbed, and pulled at your clit. Besides his penis, Yoongi definitely knew what to do with his hands. You were practically drooling and didn’t want him to stop any time soon. In fact, you were positive within the minute, you were going to come. Yoongi must have known as well for he had stopped all movements and withdrew his hands. He didn’t want you coming so soon and without him.

“Fuck,” You groaned when he stopped. “I was so close.”

“Take this off.” He ignored you, making a request of his own.

Sitting up, you pulled Yoongi’s overly larger shirt over your head; tossing it to the floor. Yoongi moved to the head of the bed to kiss your lips before working his way down. The kiss itself wasn’t long; just a quick peck, however, you were able to lick over his soft lips when he pulled away. Yoongi only smirked, attacking your neck next but he only remained there for a few seconds. His path led down to your chest, placing a kiss between the valley of your breasts before doing the same to each of your nipples. He licked over the small nub, watching as it became harder before he switched to the other. With both of your nipples poking up into the air, Yoongi continued his journey down your body, kissing a single line along your large stomach where Jihyun slept. He was very careful as to not disturb the sleeping baby, the last thing he wanted was to wake him up and have him barge in on the situation meant for adults only.

After undressing, Yoongi rested on his knees between your legs. His fingers teased your entrance, making sure you were still wet for him. Gripping his cock in one hand, he guided it to your pussy and eased the tip inside, followed by the rest. You fit around him so perfectly like a wet warm lock with his cock as the key. You were heaven. Yoongi made love to you plenty of times and lost count to how many times he’s fucked you but it was something about making love to you at that moment in time that a strange feeling washed over him. Even if everything wasn’t okay with his life, his heart was beating faster at the thought of having sex with his soon to be wife and his son who was ready to come out at any given day. Yoongi was ready to start living for the both of you.

He held on to your hips, pulling your body close until your pussy touched his pelvis. Your hands rested on top of his, squeezing them at the pressure and fullness of his cock inside your channel. Yoongi pulled out then pushed back in, making sure you were taking every inch. You bit down hard on your bottom lip at the feeling. If he kept it up, Yoongi would soon find himself pushing pass your cervix and right into Jihyun; but he couldn’t help it. Even though you were tight, your pussy tighten around him even more the deeper he went.

Slowly but deeply, his thrusts increased and Yoongi watched as your breasts jumped from his movements. Moans slipped from your lips as you tried to hold eye contact. Something in the way Yoongi was looking at you, made your eyes water. The energy his heart was releasing was too strong and if you weren’t pregnant, you would have pulled him against you to feel it beating up close.

“I love you.” You breathed out.

Yoongi suddenly pulled out and gently rolled you on your side, positioning himself behind you. His arm wrapped around you in attempt to pull you against his chest while his hand pushed his cock back into your walls causing you to moan out. Yoongi kissed the back of your neck, whispering against your skin with each thrust his hips gave your backside.

“I love you... so fucking much, y/n... only you... only you could make me feel this way... only you have my heart.”

Like a chant, Yoongi repeated these words until you were able to say it with him. Eventually, he went silent as you took over repeating his words as he bucked his hips into you. He turned your head to face him, roughly but passionately kissing your lips. You held onto the back of his head, feeling his silky dark hair through your fingers. When Yoongi broke away, he kissed the trail of wetness your tears left when they ran down your face.

“Please Yoongi,” you moaned out. “Please love me harder.”

At your wishes, he began increasing his pace; moving his hand to grip your hip for leverage. At this angle, Yoongi was hitting your spot with ease, causing him to release grunts of pleasure at how your pussy clinched around him. Your legs opened to allow your hand to massage your clit. You were almost there that you could feel the orgasm approaching. Apparently, Yoongi could too as he took over massaging your clit, leaving you to grip the sheets for support as his cock plunged in and out of you.

“Fuck! I’m coming!” You cried out. “Shit, shit, shit! Yoongi!”

Your orgasm came crashing down, momentarily leaving your body tense and in-cohesive as Yoongi chased after his release. He came moments later, brutally jabbing his cock deep inside your pussy and unleashing his fluid.

The two of you remained locked in each other’s embrace, taking the time to calm your racing hearts. Eventually, you pulled on his other arm until it was wrapped around your side and you held onto his hand, softly placing kisses on his finger tips.

Yoongi was able to relax before his body gave away to the sleep he didn’t know he needed and soon, you followed behind him even though the blue sky was becoming lighter.

~~~

When you both awoke a couple hours later, you showered and dressed for the rest of the day. Yoongi was preparing a late lunch while you watched him, sitting at the island in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile every time you looked down at your finger then at the broad back of the man who took your heart. It almost felt like a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from. You were engaged. You were soon to be a married woman and not only that, a mother too.

“If you were this excited about the ring, you should’ve just accepted yesterday to wear it sooner.” He teased after turning around to see a big smile plastered over you face. You’ve been smiling nonstop for the past thirty minutes.

“Well today is different. We’ve reached a new level of understanding and that’s what makes the ring more special.”

Yoongi gave a single nod before turning his attention back to the food. It wasn’t long before his phone begun to ring. You quickly grabbed it off the countertop.

“It’s Namjoon. Do you mind if I answer it for you?”

“Knock yourself out.”

You answered, holding the phone to your ear with a sneaky smile on your face. “Hello, Namjoon. We’re going to have a talk about the amount of sex stories you share with my boyfriend.” You teased, giggling when Yoongi threw a certain look at you. But as you listened, your smile dropped and sadness quickly took over. 

“Oh my god, no!” You cried out, cupping your hand over your mouth, gaining Yoongi’s attention. He was instantly by your side, snatching the phone from your hand and putting it to his ear.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Jimin, he’s critical condition at the hospital.” 

Yoongi’s heart dropped. He knew something was wrong; the nagging feeling just wouldn’t go away. “What the fuck happened?!” He yelled but it caused you to begging sobbing uncontrollably, covering you face, crying into your palms. Yoongi pulled you close to him, letting you cry into his chest with an arm wrapped around you.

“I don’t know, Ujin said that he found him shot and unconscious in his home. We don’t know how long he’s been that way.”

“Shit! I’m on my way. What hospital is he at?”

After getting directions, Yoongi hung up the phone; holding your head in his hands so that your attention was focused on him.

“Y/n, listen to me. I need you to go to my parent’s house until I come back to get you. I don’t want you leaving to go anywhere, do you understand?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m going to the hospital with you.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to my parent’s.”

Hearing it, made you cry harder. “But I need to see him. I need to know that he is alive. Please Yoongi, Jimin is my friend too.”

He pulled you closer to him, kissing your forehead as you cried into his shoulder. He could feel Jihyun kicking and pushing uncontrollably against him. But no matter how hard you cried, he wasn’t going to risk your lives. Sujin was waiting on the perfect opportunity to strike; just like she did with Jimin. Yoongi knew she and Insu were behind Jimin’s attack.

“Baby, I need you to be strong for Jihyun’s sake.” He took your hand placed it on your stomach to feel how erratic his movements had become. “Your job is to protect him. Once I see what Jimin’s condition is, I’ll take you to see him but until then, you need to be strong and listen.”

You wiped your eyes and nodded, figuring Yoongi was only acting this way because of what happened to Jimin could be tied the people who kidnapped him. You agreed for the simple fact that you didn’t want to make the situation any more challenging by being defiant.

Once you had your bags packed, Yoongi drove you to his parent’s house; ordering some of his men to heavenly guard the place. No matter how restless you gotten, you weren’t allowed to leave unless he came to get you. After you were safely kept away, Yoongi headed to the hospital where he met up with his father, Jimin’s father, and Ujin.

“How is he?”

His father shook his head. “We haven’t heard anything from the doctor yet.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently someone had broken into his house and shot him in the chest. From the looks of it, whoever it was caught him off caught. He was only dressed in a bath towel.”

“It was them,” Yoongi exhaled in anger. “Oh Sujin and Kun Insu.”

“Where do we find them?” Jimin’s father asked, equally upset.

“They in hiding now but it seem they’ll only emerge to attack.”

“Cowards! I can easily handle them no problem.” He stated, rolling up his sleeves. “Just give me a gun.”

“All we have to do is separate Insu from Sujin. She is nothing without her so called muscle to protect her. However, he’s not someone who is easily defeated.”

“I’ll kill him with my bare hands! What has Jimin done to those monsters?!”

“Nothing, they’re simply killing to show how powerful they can be.” Yoongi stated.

When the doctor appeared, all four men rushed over to him ready for answers but he simply shook his head.

“I’m sorry but we did what we could to save him. The rest is up to Park Jimin.”

His father spoke up. “What does that mean? Is my son alive or not?”

“He’s alive but he’s also has a collapsed lung and lost a good amount of blood. We were able to surgically remove the bullet, patch him up, and give him a blood transfusion but I’m afraid that’s all we can do. The will to live depends on your son. I’m sorry but if you’ll excuse me.” He began to walk away but stopped. “He will be moved into the ICU ward for now.”

Yoongi followed behind them to the ward of ill patients and when his eyes landed on Jimin’s figure, he had to look away. Jimin looked awful. He was barely breathing on his own and had a tube coming from his mouth, not to mention other IVs sticking out of his body. It was a hard sight to see. Yoongi honestly believed Jimin didn’t deserve this. He was a mobster but was a practical one. He used logic over emotion no matter what he did and to be gunned down in his home just because people wanted what he had, made him sick. It showed that they were targeting any and everyone but Yoongi refused to let them get to you.

Once he left the hospital, he headed straight to his club where he, Namjoon, and Hoseok worked. They worked for days straight, trying to find anything that would lead them to Sujin. And five days later, they found a lead.

Yoongi was leaned back in his chair talking on the phone to you.

“How’s Jimin?”

“His condition is still the same. His father hasn’t left his side yet.”

“Can you blame him?” You asked. “But how are you holding up?”

“What about you? How’s Jihyun?” He purposely ignored your question.

“We’re good. We just miss you and ready to come home.”

“We will soon, I promise.”

“Mr. Min, you have a visitor.” One of his men spoke.

“Send them in.” Yoongi addressed him before turning his attention back to you. “I have to go. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Yoongi ended the call thinking he was meeting with someone to help find Sujin but instead, he came face to face with Mina. She stood before him with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Out of all the people to come to his club, she was the last person he’d expect to see.

“Hi, Yoongi.” She smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard about what happened and wanted to make sure you were okay.” Yoongi figured she meant the kidnapping and was about to ask her how she found out but guessed that she must have gotten a visit from his mother. After sitting the flowers down on the desk, she stood nervously in front of him; wondering if she should bring up the topic. “I also had seen that you were having a baby. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“So... do you know what she is having?”

“A boy.”

“Oh a boy? That’s great.” Mina tried to keep the awkward conversation going. She would have rather this than to have Yoongi throw her out. She just wanted to be near him but it honestly pained her to talk to the man she still loved about the baby he was having with the woman he claimed he loved.

“What is it, Mina? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to see you and make sure you’re alive and okay.”

“And now that you have, do you mind leaving? I have a lot of work to do.”

“Wait!” She suddenly yelled out. Mina wasn’t ready for it to be over so she just said what was on her mind and what she truly felt. “Yoongi, this is hard for me. It is hard for me to look at you now and have you stare at me with no feeling in your eyes.”

“What would you like for me to do? It’s not my fault things ended up this way.”

“I know it’s my fault and you have every right to feel the way you do about me but my feelings for you still remain the same.” She admitted, wiping away tears. “I still love you, Yoongi, and you have no idea how this feels. I’ve tried living my life without you but I run into your pregnant girlfriend at the supermarket. I’m minding my business when your mother shows up to my door telling me that you’ve been kidnapped. It’s like you’re being pulled back into my life and it hurts because I can’t have you.”

Yoongi let out a frustrating sigh. “I’m sorry you feel this way but-“

“Don’t you miss me?! I know you’ve thought about us and reminisced over the thought of us!”

“If you’re looking for me to say ‘yes’ then you are sadly mistaken. The thought of you doesn’t cross my mind, not even for a second. If you’re looking for me to join your pity party, you have come to the wrong place. I see you are having a hard time regulating your emotions over false pretenses and that’s something you have to deal with on your own. I’m sure if you returned to the old Mina, you’d have no problem finding someone to give you the attention that you’ve been asking for.”

“But... I only want your attention.” She sobbed. “I love you. Only you.”

“Our time is over, Mina, I don’t love you. I love y/n. She is mother of my son and also my fiancée.”

Mina didn’t think she could be anymore heartbroken but she was wrong. She had been with Yoongi for five years and he always made excuses as to why he didn’t want to get married or have kids. He simply didn’t have the time. And now, not only were you already pregnant but he had proposed to you and the two of you hadn’t even been together two years.

It just wasn’t fair. You had everything; everything she wanted in a relationship with the man she wanted. Mina regretted even coming to speak with him. She knew that Yoongi wouldn’t respond the way she wanted him to, he was still under your spell. And no matter how many times she confessed to him, he will shoot her down because he had you. Yoongi made her feel as if she was nothing compared to you and she didn’t understand why because she knew she was the better girlfriend.

“Well, I guess as long as you’re happy that’s all that matters.” She sniffs. Maybe if she tried her hardest, she’d be able to move on.

“I am.” Yoongi stated, clearly unmoved by Mina’s theatrics. If anything, it annoyed him that she came to waste his time. “And just so we’re clear, I will continue to be happy without you. There is no need for you to continuously pop up assuming my feelings for you have changed. It will not and I’d appreciate it if you would stop wasting my time trying. I have moved on with my life and I’d suggest that you do the same.”

Mina grabbed the flowers from the desk and walked to the door in a defeated manner. Definitely different from her confident stroll she displayed when she first entered the office. She passed an anxious Namjoon who entered the moment she left out.

“Yoongi, we’ve got something!”

He was out of his seat in seconds, walking up to his friend. “What is it?”

Namjoon showed him a picture. “Meet Sunwoo, Sujin’s coordinator. He sets up all of her business transactions as a go-between. If we talk with him, he may know where she is.”

“Let’s pay him a visit.”

Within minutes, two cars left the club, heading in the direction of a small town; away from the city. Guns were loaded in the car in the case that she was there and wanted to go to war. Yoongi tried to keep a poker face as he drove his car. Finally, after weeks of searching, they were getting somewhere and this time, he was going to make Sujin and Insu pay for all that they did.

Minutes later, they arrived in front of a decent size home and emptied out of the vehicles. Hoseok and Namjoon went to the front door while the rest of the men stood guard around the place. They knocked hard on the wooden door and waited. Not even a minute later, Sunwoo partially opened the door, poking his head out.

“What do you want?”

“We just want to talk to you about your good friend, Oh Sujin.” Namjoon smirked, pushing back against the door so it wouldn’t close. “Min Yoongi sent us.”

At the admission of his words, Sunwoo quickly tried to shut the door but with two guys pushing back against it, he couldn’t stand a chance. The door flew open and Sunwoo took off running through the house with Namjoon and Hoseok right behind him. They dodged any item that was thrown in their direction in hopes of slowing them down.

When Sunwoo made it out of the back door, he jumped over the stairs, ready to run once he hit the ground but instead he took a blow to the face with a large wooden board. He yelled out in pain, clutching his broken nose as Yoongi watched him from above.

“Going so soon? We haven’t had a chance to talk and I know you heard, I’ve been looking for you.”

“You son-of-a-bitch! You broke my fucking nose!” Sunwoo screamed out.

“That’s not all I’m going to break.”

Hoseok and Namjoon lifted him by his arms and dragged him back into the house.

They threw him on the floor of his living room while they took a seat on the couch. Yoongi, however, remained standing; slowly circulating around his prey. 

“Let’s talk, Sunwoo.” He began.

“I have nothing to say to you. You’re a deadman walking.”

“Is that so?” He stopped walking and squatted down in front of him. “And who’s going to kill me?”

Sunwoo remained quiet, clutching his dripping nose. He realized that after taking a board to the face, he was also bleeding from his mouth and his skin felt as though it was swelling up.

“Where’s Sujin?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Yoongi stood to his feet. “Once again, where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mumbled.

Sunwoo was suddenly picked up, put down, and bound to a nearby chair. He stared up at Yoongi, in front of him, who was handed a black duffel bag. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that this was his demise if he didn’t give Yoongi what he wanted. Sunwoo was on his own, he assisted anyone who paid him well; his loyalty lied with no one. Why didn’t he just give Yoongi what he wanted?

The truth was that he had grown a crush on Sujin. Sunwoo appreciated her drive, especially in a field dominated by men. She wasn’t easily defeated and had the mental strength of someone who’s been in the business for decades. She knew what she wanted and did whatever needed to get it. Their light flirting gave him hope that once Sujin got what she wanted, she would invite him along to the top. He had already given her Min Yoongi and Park Jimin. Sunwoo was willing to do what it took to help Sujin.

“You were her coordinator. You helped her with transactions, knew just the right people to talk to that would assist her, and the right people to take down.” Yoongi stated. “And you’re telling me, you don’t know where she is?”

“No, I don’t.” Sunwoo told him. “I don’t know anything.”

Odd enough, Yoongi believed half of what he said. He knew Sunwoo knew more than what he was saying but his knowledge of Sujin’s operation only went so far. Being the person that she was, she wouldn’t have trusted him wholeheartedly with her plan. 

Yoongi fed on that fact, chuckling out loud. “You know... you’re probably right. You don’t know much of anything besides the little information you offered to her. You probably don’t even know where she is right now, do you?” He laughed. “Of course you don’t, Sujin doesn’t trust you like that. She knows that there are only a handful of people she could trust and you’re not one of them.”

That very sentence had gotten Sunwoo’s attention. He looked up at Yoongi with hate in his eyes before casting his gaze elsewhere.

“You thought she cared for someone like you? You’re nothing but a mull to her and I won’t be surprised if she already has another coordinator for her business, someone more trustworthy.” 

“Sujin’s not like that.” Sunwoo mumbled with hint of anger in his voice. Clearly Yoongi struck a nerve.

“Then you don’t know Oh Sujin the way you think you do. She is willing to make as many sacrifices as possible to claim what I have... even sacrifice you to me to avoid being caught.” He stated. “If she really cared for you the way you think she does, she wouldn’t have let you been found so easily. It was as if she handed you to me.”

“THAT’S A LIE! SHE WOULDN’T-“

“Why don’t you call her up right now and tell her the predicament you’re in? Maybe if you’re lucky, she may answer the call.” Yoongi stared down at Sunwoo’s figure. He was just kid who got caught up in the wrong business and fell for the wrong person. “I’m going to ask you one last time of Sujin’s whereabouts. If you were smart, you’d give them to me.”

Sunwoo remained quiet. What Yoongi had in stored couldn’t be that bad and when the coast was clear, he would reach out to Sujin for help. He tried not to let Yoongi’s words get to him but he had a point. Sunwoo had tried calling Sujin earlier that day but she didn’t answer nor did she respond to his texts.

“Since you were such a good boy and helped steered Sujin in my direction. It’s only fair that give you the same treatment she gave me when I was captured. I’m sure when she does come to you; she’ll know who she sacrificed you to.”

Yoongi opened the bag and pulled out a sledgehammer. Sunwoo’s eyes widen at the thought of it hitting his body. Namjoon and Hoseok watched as Yoongi inflicted the same torture that was brought down on him to the younger male. Surprisingly, Namjoon had to look away as Yoongi sliced up Sunwoo’s back. He couldn’t imagine that his best friend endured such treatment for as long as he did. It honestly brought tears to his eyes remembering the condition Yoongi was in when he found him and how he almost didn’t make it.

The slow torture went on for no more than an hour. Yoongi finished it off by shooting Sunwoo three times. Two for him and one for Jimin, who was still fighting for his life. Unfortunately, Sunwoo couldn’t hold strong and passed to the next life a minute or two later after being shot.

Yoongi stood looking down at the dead body; the blood slowly dripping to the floor in a puddle. This was sure to get Sujin’s attention. Whether he meant something or not, this was his message to her: “I’m right behind you.”

~~~~~

Couple days later, it was as if nothing had happened. After the torture and killing of Sunwoo, there was still no sign of Sujin or Insu. Yoongi put it out of his mind for the time being and focused more on you since you were getting closer to your due date. True to his word, Yoongi took you to visit Jimin who had begun breathing on his own but was still in a comatose state. You softly cried but spent the day holding onto his hand and sharing memories of when the two of you first met. You were relieved that Jimin was showing some signs of improvement but you knew it could change for the worse in a heartbeat.

With Yoongi’s approval and with the company of his mother, you were able to visit Jimin every other day to see if his condition changed. One day it did...

You were standing in one of the other bedrooms at Yoongi’s house when he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your chest, kissing your neck.

“What are you doing in here?”

You rested against him. “Well since we’re going to be here for awhile, I was thinking of turning this room into a nursery. What do you think?”

“Why this room?”

“It’s closer to ours. If he cries, I want to be able to quickly get him.”

Yoongi only hummed a response before changing the subject. You noticed his grip on you tightened a bit. “I just received a call from Jimin’s dad.”

“What did he say?” You wanted to turn around but he held you in place. “Yoongi? What did he say?”

He didn’t answer and he didn’t allow you to move from how you were standing. If Yoongi was being this secretive, it must mean that something bad had happened. Jimin’s condition somehow took a turn for the worst. But how when he showed signs of recovery?

You tried to shake him away but he only held tighter. “Yoongi talk to me,” your voice trembled. “What happened?”

Finally he let you go and you turned to face him, expecting to find him holding back tears like you were trying to do. Instead, you found him trying to suppress his laughter. It was all a trick; there wasn’t anything wrong with Jimin. You let your anger be known as you tried to swing at him, tears spilling from your eyes.

“You lying bastard!” You screamed but it made Yoongi laugh as he dodged your oncoming attacks. “How could you do that?! I really thought something had happened!”

He was able to grab your hand and pull you close to him, holding you in a tight embrace as you fought against him. Once you had calmed down, he had let go; pulling away to watch you wipe away tears.

You could barely keep at straight face when you saw him trying to hide his smile; causing small giggles to sip out. “I hate you, you asshole.”

“I didn’t think you were this gullible. I need you to be stronger than that.” He teased.

“Anyways,” you rolled your eyes at him. “How’s Jimin’s condition?”

“He’s awake.”

That gotten your attention. “Can we go see him now?! Please?”

Yoongi thought it over briefly. He did need to talk to Jimin about what happened that night then changed his mind. Jimin didn’t need to relive that fateful day just yet; after all, there will be plenty of time for business once he had a couple days to rest.

~~~

The two of you walked hand in hand down the corridor to Jimin’s room. You could barely contain your excitement as you began walking fast, suddenly dragging Yoongi along.

“Jimin!” You screamed the moment you entered the room, gaining the attention of him and his father. Without wasting another second, you embraced him tightly. “I was so worried but I knew you’d be okay! I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Jimin smiled, enclosing an arm around your waist before glancing in Yoongi’s direction. Yoongi simply shrugged, shaking his head.

“Thank you for coming to see me.” Jimin told you once you pulled away from him. “How have you and the baby been?”

“We’re okay, but more importantly, how are you feeling?”

“I feel better, still a little weak but better.”

“He’ll be here for a while. The doctor says that he needs another transfusion.” His father added. “With no more complications, Jimin will make a full recovery.”

“That’s good news.” Yoongi said stepping forward and taking his hand. “It’s good to have you back. We can discuss work later when you’re well enough.”

“We can do it now. Even though I can’t act on it, I’m perfectly capable of receiving information.”

You sat in a nearby chair and listened as Yoongi explained all that happen to Jimin during his stay at the hospital. It was a lot to take in, especially hearing how they had tortured and killed a young man just a couple days ago. You knew that these were necessary steps to finds the ones responsible but that didn’t stop you from feeling sick to your stomach. Hasn’t there been enough bloodshed?

By the time the discussion ended, it was already nightfall and you had fallen asleep waiting for Yoongi. He had woken you up soon after, bidding Jimin and his father a good night before taking your hand and leaving the hospital.

You tried to get comfortable to go to back to sleep during the car ride home but when you opened your eyes, you noticed you weren’t going the route you normally would to get there.

“Where are we going?” You asked, sitting straight in your seat.

Yoongi glances over at you before turning his attention back to the rode. “One last stop before heading home.”

You wondered where else he had to go at this time of night then decided to put it out of your mind and enjoy the ride. Not even fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up to a large house located not too far from his parent’s house. It gave off a dark feeling since there wasn’t a single light on or around the house.

You looked over at Yoongi, wanting to ask the obvious question but he took your hand and led you up to the front door. Once inside, he flipped on the switch and lit up the empty house. Your eyes widen and your mouth dropped at how it looked. You released his hand and stepped further into the foyer, then the living room.

“What do you think?” Yoongi asked, coming to join your side with a smile on his face.

“Wha-wh-... why?” You could barely form the words to express your thoughts?

“Didn’t you say you wanted to move somewhere where nobody could find us?” He chuckled. “You’re standing in your new home.”

You covered your mouth with your hand in shock. The house was beautiful. Much more modern than the huge house he had now. You smiled at how the style complimented Yoongi’s nature. It was perfect for him but also warm enough for you and Jihyun. The two of you would be busy over the next couple weeks decorating the place. You looked around before going into the next room.

“Wow... I don’t know what to say.” You wiped away tears.

“The only thing that matters is that you like it, do you?” He approached you, kissing your forehead. 

You nodded. “I do. I love it.” You kissed his lips.

“Let’s go upstairs, there’s something I want to show you.”

You followed behind him, walking passed a large bedroom you figured was the master bedroom and the room you two would be sharing, and stood in front a dark room. When Yoongi flicked on the lights, tears filled your eyes all over again. You walked inside what would soon be Jihyun’s room. Everything you had received from the baby shower was used to decorate the room. Even Yoongi had the walls painted a periwinkle blue to match the cotton of the furniture. 

You ran your hand over everything you laid eyes on in amazement. When did he have time to do this? Yoongi was definitely one of a kind.

He watched you take a seat in the rocking chair before coming over and squatting down in front of you.

“Now all we’re missing is him.” He commented, staring at your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs with a smile on your face.

“And our things.” You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him closer to kiss his lips. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my wife.”

~~~

The two of you locked up the house and headed home for the night. The moment you made it inside the bedroom, you showed Yoongi what being a good future husband got him. He went to bed that night relaxed after you massaging his body, emptied his balls, and fed him compliment after compliment that was sure to make his head big.

When you awoke the following morning, you awoke to a note lying on an empty side of the bed. Yoongi informed you that he was in a business meeting downstairs and breakfast was waiting for you when you were ready.

Excitement filled your body as you quickly threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. After breakfast and his meeting, maybe Yoongi could help you get everything packed for the new house. You were ready to leave this place behind. Although it brought memorable moments, there were equally bad memories as well. You just wanted to put it all behind you and move forward, not living in fear.

Once showered and dressed for the day, you headed downstairs for food. Quietly easing pass the meeting, you made it to the kitchen where Yohan greeted you. You sat at the island, eating and chatting with him about the new house. You were relieved to hear that despite the passing of Mr. Wu, Yohan would still be working for Mr. Min and watching over Yoongi.

After breakfast, you helped Yohan clean up before heading back upstairs to repack your things. You were in the midst of walking upstairs when you heard the rattling of the front doorknob. Assuming someone from the meeting had gotten locked out; you were ready to head back down to open the door, when it suddenly flew open.

Several men all dressed in black, armed with guns and ammunition; were now standing in the foyer. You shrieked, fleeing upstairs but not before gaining the attention of the men. One of them pointed the gun in your direction only to be stopped by his boss.

“Go after her.” Insu commanded. “Once she is taken care of, join us down here.”

“Yes, sir.” He quickly raced up the stairs after you while the rest of men prepared themselves for war.

Yoongi froze his movements at the noise you had released. He carefully listened but he couldn’t hear you anymore. Instead, his ears picked up on voices coming from his living room. Something was about to happen and it wasn’t good. Quickly grabbing the gun he had stashed in the dining room, he ushered his company into the kitchen and armed them and Yohan with weapons. 

He didn’t know who it was but he had a good guess of who it could be and what’s worse, they stood between you and him. Yoongi had to think quickly, if he knew Insu, he figure he send someone after you while he handled the rest.

~~~~~

You made it to the second landing and ran straight into Yoongi’s bedroom. The man suddenly came into view as you were closing the door. You leaned against it as he began trying to barge his way into the room, causing you to scream.

“Come on, open up,” he toyed. “I don’t want to shoot you through the door. I’d rather stare into your eyes as I’m wringing your neck.” He suddenly pushed hard and was able stick his arm inside, swinging it around in an effort to grab you. 

“Yoongi!” You screamed, falling to the floor.

Yoongi’s heart slammed in his chest at your voice. You were in trouble; you needed him. Without much thought, he cocked his gun and walked out firing. He was able to hit and kill two men before ducking behind a wall. They immediately returned fire; their bullets blasting everything just like that had previously done when he wasn’t there. Then suddenly, they stopped.

“Good to see you again, Yoongi.” Insu stated. “Sujin sends her regards but I ensured her that I’d bring back your head and the baby.”

“Ignore him, Mr. Yoongi,” Yohan whispered in his ear after easing up behind him. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah, well its working.”

Yoongi began firing again with Yohan’s assistance. Insu was shielded behind his men as they returned fire as well. Yoongi’s business partners soon joined the battle after calling for help. Meanwhile, you were still upstairs fighting off the intruder trying to enter the room. Pushing hard against the door caused the man to withdraw his arm.

“Please!” you begged. Jihyun was wide awake and moving like he usually did when you were tense and your anxiety level was high. “You don’t have to do this!”

“But I do. Insu picked me as the man to cut open your stomach and take your son.”

He pushed hard against the door again; his arm came through the side, this time with a gun in his hand. Your heart skipped a beat at him potentially shooting you and reacted by grabbing onto his arm and biting down into his skin. The man screamed, dropping the gun, and withdrawing his arm. You pushed the door closed, using your foot to scoot the gun closer for you to grab.

You cocked the gun and moved away from the door. When the man burst through, you closed your eyes and opened fire. You were scared to open them but when you did, you saw the man was still alive; clutching his bleeding chest but he was still alive.

“Please don’t make me kill you.” You cried, walking backwards as he walked towards you. “Please!”

But he still didn’t heed your warning. You fired one final shot which pierced his skull, killing him instantly. You covered your mouth, crying into your palm. You had just killed a man. You have someone else’s blood on your hands and had trouble coming to terms with what you had done, but the gun battle downstairs told you that you didn’t have time to wallow in your misery.

“Go after the girl.” Insu instructed another one of his men after hearing shots come from upstairs.

You pushed the body out of the room and closed the door. Using your last bit of strength, you moved Yoongi’s bed and other furniture in his room in front of the door in an effort to keep anyone from getting in. Once you were sure you had been blocked in, you leaned against the bed and gotten the shock of your life. You couldn’t stop the warm liquid from running down your legs.

“No no no! Oh God, no!” You panicked. “Not now!”

~~~~~

Yoongi was starting to get anxious. Too much time had passed and he wasn’t sure what was happening upstairs. Hopefully you remained strong until he was able to come save you. By now, he was able to slip into his office and try to call for backup but the phone line was down, leaving them no choice but to fight their way through this.

Insu stood by and watched the scene unfold behind his dark shades. With everything going as planned, Min Yoongi and his girlfriend will be dead and Sujin will have the baby she desired. He cocked his gun and begun firing where he assumed Yoongi was hiding. It was now time for it all to end. He was going to be the one to kill the famous kingpin.

“Kill the others but leave Min to me.” He stated, moving forward to take the ultimate shot.

Yoongi saw a shadow approaching and hide behind the door. When Insu came into view, he slammed the door into him; causing Insu to drop his weapon. Yoongi leaped out, pointing his gun at his head.

“Any last words before I send your body back to your boss?” Yoongi asked. He was more than ready to pull the trigger and end his life.

“Just this.”

Insu knocked the gun out of his hand then used the opportunity to attack, striking Yoongi in the face. However, Yoongi was able to quickly compose himself and launched an attack of his own; delivering blows to Insu’s face. Insu blocked as much as he could before fighting back, swinging his fists in attempt to connect them to any part of Yoongi’s body. Yoongi blocked, kneed him in the stomach before delivering another punch to his face.

“Look at how weak you’ve become. It’s almost laughable.” Yoongi taunted. “You’re supposed to be someone’s right hand man yet you’re unskilled in hand to hand combat?”

Insu spit out a wad of blood. “I don’t need my hands when I have my guns. Once armed, you’re dead.”

“If you’re able to make it that far. I doubt you’ll be able to make it to your gun before I kill you.”

Insu picked up a paperweight from the desk and throw it in Yoongi’s direction; in hopes to injure him. He made a run for the gun, only to get tackled by Yoongi. The pair rolled over the floor repeatedly throwing punches to get the upper hand.

~~~~~

You grabbed your stomach as you crouched down on the floor, bracing another contraction that was soon to come.

“Ugh!” You panted through gritted teeth. “Dammit, Jihyun... couldn’t you wait... until tomorrow?”

Your body was shaking and you could barely stand on your own. You knew eventually that you needed to go to the hospital. There was no way you were having him at home in the middle of a war. Crawling over to the bed, you struggled to reach for your phone. You needed to call for help; everyone’s life depended on it.

You almost had it when a bullet flew through the door, hitting the mattress. The loud popping noise easily frightened you, causing you to scream. You ducked down for cover in case he fired again but was hit with another contraction. Your hands balled into fists as you cried out on the floor.

“I hear you...” the man teased, firing two more shots into the bed. “Why don’t you give up and unlock the door.”

Even though your body was in pain, you slowly stood to your feet, grabbed your phone, and stumbled into the bathroom; falling on the floor. With Jimin still in the hospital, you called the next best thing.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok! It’s me, I need your help.” You softly cried into phone.

“Y/n? What’s going on? Where’s Yoongi?” 

“I don’t know, I locked myself in the bedroom. Those people who kidnapped him are here and they have guns-“

“I’m on my way, don’t move. I’ll alert Yoongi’s father about what’s happening and we’ll be on the way.”

“Please hurry.”

The called ended and you huddled against the tub, rubbing your stomach and trying to calm the baby who was pushing against your cervix. You stared at the bedroom door, wondering if the man had left. The shooting had stopped and he wasn’t taunting you from the other side. You prayed that he had left and wasn’t trying to hurt you anymore.

Suddenly, loud rhythmic pounding on the bedroom door rung out upstairs. It startled you but a closer glance made your blood run cold. The man had broken the door and was now repeatedly pushing it open to move the furniture. You covered your ears and closed your eyes to block out the noise but throbbing of your lower half had your thoughts pulled away from the door and to your body, which was prepping itself for labor. You held on to anything close by for support, even the edge of the tub. The pain was becoming too unbearable that you had no choice to call for help.

“YOONGI!” You cried, screaming at the top of your lungs. “YOONGI! PL-“ 

Your voice was suddenly caught in your throat at the pain, rendering you unable to call out to him any further. You covered your eyes, crying 

~~~~~

When your screams rung out from upstairs, Yoongi’s head snapped in that direction. It lit a fire in him and he began bashing his fist into Insu’s head, who was now leaking blood from his nose and mouth. Yoongi suffered from a busted lip and sore limps from fighting. He refused to let Insu get the upper hand.

When he assumed Insu was too weak to fight back, Yoongi let his body fall to the floor and moved to get the gun. Insu grabbed onto his legs, causing him to fall on his front. He pulled out a pocket knife and tried to stab him, swinging the blade recklessly. Yoongi was cut on his arm and hand trying to dodge his attacks. Insu had gotten lucky and delivered a long cut on his palm.

“Next will be your throat.” He threatened with a smile, ready to strike again. 

Shots suddenly rung out in the room followed by silence. Insu gripped his wounded arm, looking up to see who shot him. Namjoon stood by with his gun loaded ready to fire again but before he could, Insu charged towards the nearest window and leaped through it, shattering glass around the area.

“Don’t let him get away!” Yoongi commanded. “Follow him!”

A few men rushed out of room and out of the house to chase after a Insu, who had just peeled off the property in a car. Namjoon rushed to the aid of his friend checking to see if he was okay but Yoongi quickly exited the room leaving a confused Namjoon to follow after him.

“Come on, you need medical help.” Namjoon offered.

“I’m fine.” He stated even though his hand was dripping blood.

The house was a wreck, bodies everywhere including all of Insu’s men and his guests from the meeting. Their bodies were located by the patio door, trying to make a run or it.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon ask him as he bypassed the destruction and chaos to head upstairs.

~~~

Hoseok had slowly eased his way upstairs after hearing loud banging. He found a man, with a gun in his hand, trying to enter the bedroom where you were hiding. Hoseok fired twice, killing the man instantly. 

“Y/n?” He called but didn’t get an answer.

He could see how the door was busted open yet, he still couldn’t get inside. Peeking through the crack, he could see that something was blocking the door.

Yoongi arrived, almost on cue, standing next to Hoseok. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. I can’t get inside; she put something in front of the door.”

Yoongi quickly surveyed the situation, placing his hand on the large wooden barrier. “We’ll have to break into the room. If we hit it together, it’s bound to give way.”

With no other options, the three of them repeatedly knocked into the door until the furniture on the other side was push out of the way to where they could enter the room. Yoongi leaped over it all and entered his bedroom, scanning the room. He found you in the bathroom, hiding in the tub with your hands over your ears.

“Y/n?” But you didn’t respond. “Y/n?!” He shook your shoulder trying to get your attention.

When you realized it was Yoongi and not the unknown man trying break inside the room to kill you, you fell into his arms; crying all over again.

“Yoongi I was so scared.” Your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his shirt. After a minute, he pulled away to check you over before speaking.

“Baby, come on. It’s over but we have to go.” Yoongi stated trying to help you to your feet but you shook your head unable to move with him.

“I can’t.” You mumbled almost on the verge of tears. Yoongi kneeled down, holding your face in his hands. He was still on edge, checking the door occasionally to make sure no one was there to hurt you both.

“What’s wrong?”

Just then, another contraction washed over you, causing a loud groan of pain to slip from your lips. Your hands gripped Yoongi’s arm and clothes for support until the pain went away momentarily. He stared in confusion and panic, thinking you had possibly gotten shot.

“Jihyun... is coming...”

The moment he heard those words, they were immediately processed and received. Yoongi’s eyes widen; his eyes just stared a hole into you. If what you say is true then your water had broken and you were already in labor.

“Oh shit.” He said absentmindedly.

You nodded, adjusting yourself in an effort to stand before another contraction came. “Yoongi... we have to get to the hospital. I don’t think... I can take much more of this.” You broke down in a sob. “I want him out.”

“Is she okay?” Namjoon asked, stepping inside the bathroom.

Yoongi shook his head. “Call for an ambulance; the baby is coming.”

Namjoon immediately pulled out his phone called for assistance. With that taken care of, Yoongi turned his focus solely on you.

“Baby, I need you to be strong for me. I know it hurts but I need to get you downstairs before they arrive.”

“Can’t they come up here?”

“The house is a mess and too many bodies lying around. They’ll call for the police before they help you.”

With the help of Namjoon, both men helped you to your feet and slowly escorted you downstairs; stopping along the way when another contraction came. Yoongi shielded your face from seeing what took place on the lower level. The scene was too much for anyone who wasn’t use to seeing such a thing. By the time you made it outside, your body had become weak and were now trembling.

The ambulance had arrived seconds later, both men jumping out of the vehicle to help. They acted immediately, helping you onto the stretcher while Yoongi explained to them your situation.

“Please take care of her.” He told them, stopping at the back doors.

“Wait! You’re not coming with?” You asked, trying to sit up but he only laid you back down.

“I can’t,” He mumbled, checking to see if the men were listening in. “I have to take care of something first but I promise I’ll be at the hospital before Jihyun arrives.”

“What’s more important than us?” The tears were already forming in your eyes. “Please don’t leave me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi remained silent, casting his gaze elsewhere. He had to take care of Insu while he had the chance. If he gotten away, both he and Sujin would continue to wreak havoc on his life and the last thing he wanted was to allow them the chance to hurt his son.

“I have to go.” He let his hand slip from your grip as you were loaded inside the ambulance. You refused to let the man put the oxygen mask over your face as you continued to call out to him.

“Please, Yoongi!” You cried. “Don’t do this! Please don’t leave me!”

The doors closed as he watched the other man get into the driver seat and pull off of the property with the sirens blaring. Your voice and face was all that was in his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with her?” Namjoon asked, standing next to him. “You’re father is on the way too. Don’t you think we should wait for what he has to say?”

The car was ready, his men were ready, now all he needed to do was finish what he started. If he was quick about it, he could get back to you in no time.

“Let’s go.”

~~~

“Make a left here,” Hoseok told him with the phone to his ear as he gave directions as to find Insu. Lucky for them, he was still in his car and easy to tail by Yoongi’s men. “Make another left then keep straight for two blocks.”

Yoongi pulled out his phone to call his mother, driving with one hand on the wheel; weaving in and out of traffic.

“Yoongi! Thank goodness! Your father told me what happened, is everything okay?”

“No it’s not; I need you to go to the hospital. Y/n is on her way there,” he paused. “Jihyun is coming.”

“I’m leaving now. Are you headed there?”

“No, there’s something I have to do first.”

There was a slight pause. “Min Yoongi! Are you telling me that y/n is at the hospital by herself?!”

“That’s why I need you there. She needs someone there.”

Her voice lowered in a stern tone. “No Yoongi, she needs YOU. Be there in twenty minutes.”

He lowered the phone from his ear at the sound of her hanging up. He ignored the nagging self conscience feeling telling him to go to the hospital. Instead, his foot stepped on the gas, speeding the car down the street. If he was really lucky, maybe Insu could led them to Sujin.

“Make a right.” Hoseok directed him.

As they stopped at the intersection, all three of them watched a black car speed right passed them with another car following close behind. No doubt, the man they were looking for: Kun Insu.

“There he is!” Namjoon shouted.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hit the gas and drove straight into oncoming traffic; trailing after them. The sound of car horns and tires rubbing against the asphalt rung out. Some cars crashed into each other while others were able to screech to a halt.

~~~~~

Hyolyn rushed inside the emergency room with Matt right behind her. After your frantic call, the two of them jump in the car and headed to the hospital. Thankfully, they spotted your father who was able to calm the pair. He told them exactly what was told to him by one of the nurses. That you were already in labor and how they weren’t able to go into the delivery room.

They took a seat in the waiting room and began the long task of waiting for the baby to arrive. Meanwhile your mother and Yoongi’s mother was in the delivery room with you, trying to coach you through the process. Your mother repeatedly wiped away sweat that appeared on your forehead while Yoongi’s mother held your hand and talked you down from your hysteria.

The more you dilated, the faster the contractions were coming and the more you felt as though you were dying. Even though you wanted him out, you didn’t want to deliver your son and Yoongi wasn’t there. So no matter how much pain you were in, you tried to hold back as much as you could which was very hard to do. Your body was trying to rid itself of the human baby that was more than ready to come out.

After ten minutes, the doctor realized something was wrong.

“Y/n, listen to me very carefully,” the doctor told you. “We need you to stop holding back and push him out. Otherwise you could pose a threat to your body and baby.”

Your head fell back against the bed, the agonizing pain of your bones stretching. “But I can’t have him now,” You cried out. “Yoongi’s not here yet. He needs to be here.”

“He’s on the way, honey.” You mother tried to comfort you. “He’ll be here in time to cut the umbilical cord.”

However, Yoongi’s mother had a different approach. “Y/n, push out my grandson. We’ve waited long enough now time is up. There’s no point in holding back for a man who chose not to be here. Yoongi will have to deal with the aftermath when he arrives but you shouldn’t be putting more tension on yourself because of him.”

Her figure became blurred by tears at her words because she was right. It hurt you that Yoongi had put business before you when you really needed him; even before Jihyun. This day wasn’t about him; it wasn’t even about you. It was about Jihyun and it upset you that he wouldn’t have both parents there during the time of his birth. 

When the tears fell from your eyes, granting you vision of your surroundings, you looked up at your mother. Her warm eyes speaking what her lips did not. She loved you and will stand by your side no matter what you decided. Your grip tightened on Yoongi’s mother’s hand as she gave you a comforting smile.

“Okay,” you spoke up after a while, waiting until some of the pain subsided. “I’m ready.”

The following minutes were spent helping you deliver Jihyun. Both mothers on each side, holding onto your hand as you pushed. Your eyes closed tight and your teeth gritted together as you strained; stopping to take deep breaths before doing it again.

After awhile, you needed a break and fell back on the bed exhausted. 

Your mother smiled while stroking your face. Even she had to wipe away tears from her eyes. “You’re doing great, honey.”

“Okay y/n, I just need you to give me one big push. Can you do that?” The doctor spoke, stretching your birth canal open.

You leaned up on your elbows and took on final breath, pushing as hard as you could. Oddly enough, you could feel Jihyun slowly moving to descend out of your body. It was feeling you knew you would never forget.

“Oh my God! I see him!” Yoongi’s mother gasped, using her other hand to wipe away tears.

“Come on, y/n. You’re almost there.” The doctor coached.

Jihyun was right there, you could feel it. One more push was all it took for you to be able to see your baby. You nodded and pushed one final time, giving it your all.

~~~~~

Yoongi drove with both hands on the wheel, his knuckles turning a shade of white as he gripped the material. He raced after Insu, sure enough causing several car accidents in his wake. But no matter how much destruction it caused on the city, he wasn’t stopping until Insu was dead.

When he suddenly made a left turn, causing a fiery crash, Yoongi made a left as well but through a side street. If he guessed correctly and Insu made another left turn, Yoongi would be right behind him. With the help of Hoseok and Namjoon, they could shoot out the tires; bringing the car to a stop.

But just as luck would have it, when Yoongi approach the intersection, his car t-boned head on into Insu’s. His car couldn’t handle the impact and rolled over repeatedly until it came to a stop, hitting a light pole. Yoongi’s car released its airbags after receiving severe frontal damage. 

All three exited the vehicle with guns drawn as they approached Insu. They weren’t sure of his condition and did not want to give him the opportunity to get the upper hand. Kun Insu’s reign of terror on Yoongi’s life and everyone else’s was over.

With his air bags also deployed, Insu sat in the driver’s seat leaking blood from too many open wounds. Namjoon opened the car door and he fell out, lying on the pavement. Hoseok pointed a gun at him in the case he made a move while Yoongi grabbed him by his shirt and deliberately punched him to an excessive degree that he looked unrecognizable.

“Where the fuck is she?” Yoongi roared out in anger but Insu didn’t respond and he figured Insu wasn’t going to. Even in the face of death, Insu remained loyal to Sujin. Wherever she was, they weren’t going to find out anytime soon.

Yoongi dropped his body on the ground and pulled out his gun, executing him by unloading a clip of bullets into his skull. He let out a breath, lowering the gun onto his side. Nothing but silence echoed around them. Even though it was over, Yoongi still wasn’t satisfied. In many ways, he felt incomplete knowing that one person was still out there; walking freely amongst others.

Both Hoseok and Namjoon could read Yoongi’s feelings easily after knowing him for years. Even working alongside of him, only strengthen their bond. They knew he was disappointed and it showed.

“You shouldn’t stress about this. We’ll find her.” Hoseok spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s right,” Namjoon added. “We may not have Sujin but we stopped Insu. That’s better than nothing. Besides, you have somewhere more important you should be.”

The thought of his family waiting on him; the thought of you waiting on him...

Switching cars with his men, the three of them drove to the hospital while his car was taken back to his property. Yoongi’s mind wandered to you and your condition. He knew he’d be in hot water for leaving you like he did but this was something he had to take care. He’d rather have one dead than neither with them hiding somewhere in the city.

When they walked through the doors of the hospital, they immediately spotted both families in the waiting room. However Yoongi kept walking, stopping by the front desk before continuing on. A lot was on his mind as he rode the elevator up to your floor. According to the front desk, you had been moved from the delivery room to a regular room while you recovered. You already had Jihyun and he had missed it. He had missed the birth of his first born son. Yoongi knew you would be furious with him because of it. 

His mother noticed him the moment he walked inside the room. She stood to her feet, walking over him. In an instant, her hand came up to slap him across the face, to which he didn’t blame her for, before embracing him. His arms enclosed around his mother as they stood hugging each other. As she stepped back, she wiped away proof of her tears.

“How was she?” Yoongi asked; turning both of their heads in your direction to witness you peacefully resting in bed.

“She did amazing,” She smiled, wiping more tears that had gathered.

“And Jihyun? Where is he?”

On cue, the nurse entered the room, pushing a translucent nursery crib. She placed the crib on the side of the bed where you slept before walking out to leaving them to privacy.

Yoongi approach the crib, closely watching the tightly wrapped baby sleep. Taking a deep breath, he picked him up, studying his tiny features. It was as if he was looking in a mirror at his younger self; he almost couldn’t believe it.

“I know, he looks just like you.” His mother commented, walking towards her son and grandson.

“I know.” He agreed. Seconds after he heard his father spoke, Jihyun opened his eyes, catching Yoongi by surprise. He assumed Jihyun would begin crying like babies do when they don’t see their mother but he remained silent.

The two stared off as if they were sizing each other up. Jihyun innocently blinked up at him while Yoongi held his gaze. Crazy enough, even though Jihyun looked like him, the one he had that belonged to you were your eyes. Yoongi felt like you were staring him through the eyes of your son even when you were sleeping.

“Yoongi!” Namjoon yelled, running into the room; surprising them. “You’re not going to believe this but we may know where Sujin’s location!”

That certainly had gotten his attention. “You’re kidding! How?!”

“Matt. He suggested that Insu may have very well been on his way back to Sujin’s hiding spot when we interrupted him. I looked up any property any one of them could have owned and got something. Sunwoo had another house he signed off on under an alias. Judging by the direction Insu was headed in, he was only three blocks away when we hit him.”

Yoongi’s insides bubbled with excitement. Although it was just a hunch, it was better than nothing and he was willing to take whatever he had to find her. If, by any chance, Sujin was there, then he could put an end to her and her plan to take control.

“How do you want to proceed?” Namjoon asked, finally noticing that Yoongi was holding his son for the first time.

Yoongi had to be there to witness the look on Sujin’s face when she realizes they had caught her but the stern tone of his name being called by his mother, opened his eyes to the situation he was in. He had already put business before you when you needed him, but did he want to do that to his son in the same day? Looking down at Jihyun, he saw your judgmental eyes staring back at him as if waiting to see what he had decided.

~~~~~

Your eyes had slowly opened to what you assumed was an empty room. You slowly sat up in bed, adjusting yourself. Although the light was on, no one was in your line of view. It wasn’t until you heard the light sounds of Jihyun cooing that your head whipped around to where he was at. The view made you relax, smiling as you lied back down.

Yoongi held him in his arms, slowly rocking him back and forth. When he saw that you were awake, he walked over, standing by the side of the bed.

“Looks who’s finally up,” he teased but was still talking to Jihyun. “It’s mommy.”

You instantly sat up to take the baby as Yoongi handed him to you. A smile spread across your face as you looked down at him. You barely had a chance to see him when he was born due to how drained labor made you. While you stared at his little round face, you almost missed Yoongi climbing into bed next to you; hiding his face against your body. After realizing who you were, Jihyun turned his head closer to you and closed his eyes.

“Goodness, he looks just like you.” You lightly chuckled.

“With your eyes.” he mumbled into your hospital gown, wrapping an arm around your midsection.

“Where is everyone?”

“After you wouldn’t wake up to greet your guests, they all just went home after sneaking a peek at Jihyun. They’ll be back after the two of you had your rest.”

It was quiet between you both and you after the day he had; you figured it was only a matter of time before Yoongi fell asleep.

“When did you arrive?” You asked him.

There was a pause. “A couple hours ago. You were already asleep.”

You let a light hum that made it hard for Yoongi to tell if you were angry at him or not. He knew it had to be discussed before you dropped the subject but the last thing he wanted was to resent him because of it.

“Is it over?” The question itself caught him off guard that he lifted his head to look at you. You stared down at him with a waiting expression.

“Yes. It’s all over now.”

“Good.” You smiled, leaning over to kiss his lips. You didn’t want to hate Yoongi for the decisions he made when he just wanted to make sure the tranquility his family wasn’t threatened. Even if it meant he had to miss Jihyun being born, you knew it hurt him just as much not there so you chose not to rub it in. He was there now and that’s all that mattered.

~~~

The following morning you had awoke to an empty spot next to you and an empty crib and instead awoke to a room full of voices. Your parents and his had stopped by to see Jihyun, as well as Hyolyn and Matt. They all gushed over him while you remained in bed, eating breakfast and listening to the chatter. Hearing the sound of his father’s voice after being passed around a bit too much, Jihyun had begun to cry until he was placed in the arms of the very person he wanted. Everyone laughed while you rolled your eyes. Yoongi had either just learned of Jihyun’s attachment to him or he already knew. Something told you that he already knew.

Everyone stayed half the day until it was time for the nurses to check on you and the baby. Once you were done filling out paperwork for Jihyun, you watched your boys interact with each other with a loving smile on your face. Everything was going well until Yoongi’s phone rung out. While still holding his son, he smiled at who it was and answered. Your mood darkened realizing it could only be work calling, seeing how his parents left not too long ago.

“Yoongi,” you called his name sternly, closely watching him. “I thought you said it was over.”

However he simply ignored you, speaking into the phone. “Is it done?”

“It’s done.” Namjoon replied.

~~~~~

He and a Hoseok watched as Sujin screamed at the top of her lungs. They had successfully captured her but at the request of Yoongi, she wasn’t tortured and killed. Instead, she suffered a slow death at the hands of his friends.

With a few painful cuts to her skin, Sujin’s body was placed in a cheaply made cage then placed in the sea. They watched the cage slowly sink into water with Sujin screaming out her final dying breath. Even if she does manage to hold her breath for awhile, her blood should attract any sharks nearby. Hopefully, she should drown before her body is ripped to shreds. Both men recorded her demise on their phones, sending the video to both Yoongi and Jimin.

~~~~~

Yoongi ended the call, putting his phone away. That was all he needed to hear to make this day nothing short of perfect.

  Epilogue 

 A couple days after being released from the hospital, Yoongi, Jihyun, and yourself moved into the new house for good. At your wishes, Yoongi retrieved your belongings from his old house before he had the place tore down. Nothing remained except for markings in the dirt where the house used to be. Anything of his that was destroyed and he wanted, he brought it again.

Once Jihyun was home, he was thrown a small party to meet all of the family. You were happy everyone was there and there to support the three of you. Jimin was released from the hospital, after beating the odds against him and making a full recovery. Unfortunately, your parents returned home a week later but you had scheduled a week where you and Jihyun would visit them. You also promised to send them pictures of Jihyun and every milestone he made.

After the party, Hyolyn surprised you with news of her own and also a positive pregnancy test. The two of you laughed and shed tears. You were going to be an aunt and Jihyun will have his first cousin to play with. You hoped her pregnancy wasn’t as stressful as yours and now that you weren’t, you planned on helping out as much as you could.

The three of you quickly settled into family life which wasn’t different from before except now you had a baby. Still wanting to be close to him, you had Jihyun’s crib, moved into the room that you shared. On one particular night, you heard the light cooing of Jihyun’s voice. The way he whined, you figured it was only a matter of time before he started crying and he certainly had a strong voice.

“Shh... otherwise you’re going to wake her up.” You heard Yoongi tell him. Opening your eyes, you found him rocking Jihyun in his arms, the moon lighting up his figure in the darkness. “Now, what is it? Are you hungry or do you just want daddy to hold you?” You watched for awhile until Jihyun’s voice could be heard again.

“I think he’s hungry.” You told him. “Give him to me, I’ll feed him.” Without much protesting, Yoongi handed him over before climbing back into bed.

“One thing is certain,” he began before throwing the blanket over his head. “He definitely has your impatience.”

You smiled, looking down at the baby in your arms as he ate. There were plenty of times in the night where you woke to the sounds of him crying only to find Yoongi already holding him. You would breastfeed him back to sleep and on other occasions, you pumped your milk into a bottle and had Yoongi feed him while you slept.

Work, for Yoongi, had returned to normal but he made sure not to spend too much time away from home. He had balanced work and his personal life; sometimes working from home while you were out and other times, rushing from work to get home to see you and Jihyun. Occasionally he took days off to spend time with the two of you.

Although you didn’t have to work, you still chose to for the simple fact that you didn’t enjoy staying at home twenty four-seven. You took Jihyun to the bakery to introduce him to the people you considered a second family. Everyone gushed over the baby and it made you laugh that when Jungkook held him, he spit up on him.

“I see the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.“ he commented, wiping his clothes.

“What does that mean?” You questioned, trying to suppress your giggles.

“He’s rude, just like his mother; doesn’t appreciate something great in front of them.” He teased. “I saved his life and this is the thanks I get.” He pouted.

“Jihyun and I are very thankful and grateful for that day.” You smiled, giving him a smile and kiss on the cheek.

You were happy to learn that not only that business has been great but Jungkook had moved on from his crush on you and begun dating. During the days when there weren’t a lot of customers, you offered advice to him on where to take his girlfriend or what to buy her as gifts.

Yoongi’s parent’s, more specifically his mother, offered to watch Jihyun some night so you and Yoongi could have some alone time. Those nights ended great but you hated waking up in the morning and not seeing your angel. And even though Yoongi never voiced it, you knew he felt the same way. You had caught him asking his mother about Jihyun when he thought you were asleep on a few occasions.

Time had passed, a little too fast for your liking, and Jihyun had went from holding his head up and turning over to crawling to pulling himself up and now at thirteen months, he was trying to walk. You did a victory dance when his first words were “mama” instead of “dada” like Yoongi was trying to teach him. Crazy enough, you didn’t think being a parent was going to be as fun as it was, especially when you had Yoongi by your side. But with good days, there came bad days and days when Jihyun was sick or kept the two of you awake at night with constant crying.

And no matter how much the two of you disagreed, by the end of the day you both were back in love and the argument was long forgotten. You needed him just as much as Yoongi needed you. The two of you were better together than you were on your own and to prove that, you and Yoongi finally decided on a date for the wedding, settling for a breezy summer day.

When that day came, everything went as planned. Hyolyn’s and Matt’s beautiful baby girl was the flower girl with the help of your mother, who carried her. With a little assistance, Jihyun managed to walk down the aisle without dropping the rings he carried on a pillow. You stood next to your best friend and sister-in-law, staring at your soon-to-be husband, who looked absolutely stunning in his black tux. Yoongi stood alongside all three of his friends, he considered brothers. During the entire wedding, as well as the reception, Yoongi couldn’t keep his eyes or his hands off of you even though the two of you had a quickie in the limo before arriving to the venue. 

Life didn’t feel much differently than before, just that you were now officially someone’s wife. Min Yoongi’s wife. The infamous mobster that everyone was scared of was not only your son’s father but also your husband. Some days you wondered how it all came together but rather than think of the past, you had a lot to look forward to.

“Are you ready for your new life, Mrs. Min?” Yoongi whispered in your ear as he lied on top of you. It was the night of the wedding and with Jihyun with his parents for a week; it left plenty of time for you to spend as newlyweds.

You turned you head to kiss him. “I’m more than ready, Mr. Min.”

“Good,” He rolled you over on your back, kissing and sucking on your neck. “I think it’s time that Jihyun gets a sibling, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Yoongi,“ you moaned with a tease. “It’s whatever you want.”

That night when you two made love, you became one. Whatever life had in store for you, couldn’t be that bad... As long as you had each other.

~

The End

****

©2019 Silhouetted_Beauty

#kpop scenarios #bts imagines #BTS suga #suga scenario #yoongi imagine #bts scenarios #BTS au #suga imagine #yoongi scenario #min yoongi #bts min suga #bts suga imagine #bts suga scenario #min suga scenario #min suga imagine #min yoongi scenario #min yoongi imagines #kpop imagines #bts min yoongi #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #suga angst #suga fluff #suga smut #bts yoongi #bts yoongi smut #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[torannosaurusrexy]

Beautiful Demise

Chapter 3: “Fresh Soil”

➝ Genre: Fic

➝ Pairing: Park Jimin | Reader (Potentially Others as the Story Progresses)

{Assassin!AU} {Dark!Namjoon} {Incessent Sexual Tension} {Angsty Hoseok} {Teasing} {Name Calling} {Fluff} {Cocky Jimin} {Deep Backstory} {Nervous Boy Jungkook} {Tea}

WARNING: This AU is explicit, contains dark themes, violence, and language some readers may find unsettling, please take caution when reading.

➝ Word Count: 12.3k

➝ Summary: Every garden starts with a seed or bulb. The only gardens to live however...are those tended to with love and care. The same goes for people. Those willing to fight, survive. The rest shrivel to nothing.

With your little agreement underway, you and Jimin start to see eye to eye. That is until things spiral between an assassin who loathes your existence and the one who's swore to protect you.

/ Previous | Next \

Ever watch a movie where a really hot character was introduced? Everything slowed down and the camera started to pan in slow motion? You knew the feeling, except you were living it instead of watching the flashy character whip their hair in the form of a thousand pixels. There was no camera, and the one attractive person you imagined had suddenly split into four very unique beings—all blessed with the power of allurement. Your body was numb with the feeling of worry.

You have been sacrificed to the deity of lust and she was using you for her pleasure. She was torturing you, whispering in your ear and urging you to subdue your aching core that since the previous evening has been in a state of insatiable want for the one thing only you deny yourself. Surely you’ve played perfectly into her awaiting fingertips as you stand—pants-less—in a room of four very attractive young men. 

Despite her rule over you, the internal succubus has been momentarily derailed as she attempts to slither her way through your expertly crafted mental maze. Your emotions prove to be the perfect barrier for her, especially since the only ones she holds dear is lust and greed. It will take time for her to riddle her way through the many thick obsidian walls constructed of feelings such as: happiness, guilt, fear, sadness, and jealousy. Just a few of the many emotions you’ve felt and have embedded into the grooves of the organ in your head. As your brain fights itself for the correct answer to forever maim the demon, she has nothing better to do but slither beneath you, hidden in a cowering state as she waits patiently for her moment to strike. 

You can’t help but tense as all eyes shift without fault between you and Jimin. You realize now as your own eyes glide from striking expression to striking expression that it wasn’t what Jimin said that had everyone shocked into silence, it was what he was carrying. Apparently he told no one of his plan to leave the house that day, let alone return with a great number of purchases from a variety of high end shopping affiliates. 

Despite the rooms obvious interest in Jimin’s shopping excursion, he doesn’t seem to note the rooms reaction long enough to care and instead focuses his eyes on you. 

“I take it you had an eventful afternoon.” Seokjin chimes, grinning brightly as he watches with gleaming eyes, the scene unfold. Although being contacted straightforward, Jimin remains stoic, ignoring Jin’s attempt at conversation. The elder of the two keeps his hands in his pockets, dissolving back into the group of onlookers. 

“I thought I told you to lay low.” Jimin’s carob eyes take the form of daggers, piercing you with a simple glance despite the conscientiousness his face depicts. 

Crossing your arms, you answer without fault; watching him come deeper into the room and placing down the abundance of bags that crinkle as they settle into themselves. “I did.” You gesture with a flick of your chin to the three young assassins; two of which seem completely overtaken with joy as they examine the ongoing exchange while the other looks bored out of his mind. “They are the ones who entered the room without so much as a knock. Do they always do that?” Jimin exhales from his nose, a smile tugging at the corners of his plush mouth that desperately calls your attention. 

He nods, “You get used to it.” You’re not sure you could ever get used to the regularly scheduled invading of personal space. Jimins smile on the other hand…is most definitely something you could become accustomed to spying. “It’s no use hiding you from them now; care to learn some new names?” His eyes crinkle at the sides as his lips curl and bend around each syllable that falls from his tongue. 

“Do I have much choice?” You fire back, not expecting an answer in return thanks to your monosyllabic tone. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Jimin opens an imaginary door to the world of conversation, one he hopes you’ll hold with his comrades. “My my Jimin, quite the prize you have here.” The tallest of the group enchants proudly; his beguiling lilt most definitely charming to whomever dare listen. He sends a lascivious wink your way, one so brazen and unexpected that you flush and blink rapidly. 

You hear Jimin clear his throat, “I wouldn’t look down on her like that Jin. She’s been through a whole lot, its made her strong.” The comment almost makes you look back, both flattered and disgusted at the assumptions made on your behalf. 

The dark haired man with broad shoulders stands straight, both hands hidden behind his back. “Well, we’ve never been particularly against having strong women lying around. Isn’t that right Yoongi?” You aren’t sure how to interpret his words. ‘Lying around’ especially; the brief two word combo sending shivers up your spine…and causing your breath to halt. The young man’s suggestive manner and overconfident demeanor leaves you both hot and tentative—without an instruction manual of how to get out of it. 

“Jin, you sound like a massive perv.” The bored man leaning against the doorframe—who must be connected to the name ‘Yoongi’—announces without a strand of emotion.

You hear Jimin snort back a laugh as his elder shouts his protest. “What?! N-no I don’t!” No one aside from the two laced in a bickering fit seems even slightly phased by the scene unfolding mere feet from you. Jimin stands off to your right: arms crossed; watching with waning eyes. 

You feel the need to interrupt and provide solace; or perhaps leave the room in suitably shocked haste. Then, the third and almost forgotten young man that trailed behind upon entry comes up to both you and Jimin who is now knitting his eyebrows together as he takes mental notes. “Rather childish of them if I do say so myself.” He rebukes. 

Jimin hums. “Yes, well, you know the rules.” He comments, making small talk about the quarrel as if the entire ordeal is calming like having tea on a bright Sunday afternoon. The brief piece of dialogue makes you turn and analyze Jimin’s profile as his eyes bounce between the squandering men. 

“Rules?” You continuously fiddle with a loose string on the arm of Jimin’s sweater. You forgot that you had it on.

The raven haired boisterous boy turns; wearing a grin that lightens up his face even more than the average holder of such sanctity. “Not that I expect you to understand but,” He starts, remaining innocuous even with the lingering absentmindedness that leers about him. “We live together in peace here thanks to very few—but actively enforced—rules.” With the topic aloft, Jimin allows Taehyung to continue, his name still a mystery to you…but thanks to the boys flamboyant air, that will not last for long. “One rather important one being that: fights are never to be broken up within the confines of these walls. Each and every quarrel must be dealt with by those—and only those—involved. Punishment is dealt out suitably to those who interrupt said conflict…no matter how big or how small the reasoning behind it.”

You take your time to process this newfound information, and rub your chin with both your thumb and index. “That seems rather…counterintuitive, not to mention a solution that would just force things to escalate. I don’t see the outcome ever being positive.” You shrug, suddenly intrigued by the means in which these young assassins have stayed sane over the years. 

“And yet…here we are.” He winks, ducking behind Jimin and coming to stand beside you. He watches on for a few more minutes; allowing the three of you to stand in an awkward—yet oddly satisfying—silence before suddenly yelping out in annoyance at himself. “Oh how rude of me!” He jumps, clapping his hands lightly and continuing to ignore the head-lock scenario unraveling on the carpet ahead of you. “My name is Taehyung.” He bows, folding his arm at the elbow across his midsection and letting his shaggy hair fall forward. “But, I wouldn’t be opposed to letting you call me Oppa.” Jimin looks to his younger; smacking the back of his head with a firm palm. The motion makes the flirtatious boy wince and sit up to rub his sore skull. 

“All right! All…right!” Yoongi taps out, swallowing between words and slamming his hand into the floor. The impact producing an innocuous slapping sound.

Taehyung springs back up and into action, thrusting himself forward close to Seokjin and the shorter young man that lost the fight. “Nice one hyung!” He cheers wrapping an arm around the broad boys shoulder. “You actually took out Monarch!” 

Jin sparkles with pride as a brume slithers into the room from any and all thresholds. “Did you expect anything less TaeTae? I’m just that good.” He gleams. 

Jimin scoffs out a laugh. The very idea of Jin being good at anything other than styling his hair and using his charming lilt against unsuspecting men and women is downright puerile. He flits the tawny strands of hair from his forehead with a flick of his chin, raising it to the ceiling. “Yoongi let him win.” Jimin accuses from beside you; his winsome air making your lips part ever so slightly. “You made it too obvious Gi, you have to at least give Jin a fight worth taking part in. I’ve seen toddlers high off apple juice fight over play dough better than that.” 

He huffs in response to Jimins tease, turning towards the door in an exhausted and fed up manner. “Can’t get anything past you Chim.” 

Chim?

“Jin just had to go and pick a fight. I don’t and didn’t have the energy to put into anything worthwhile. Be happy with what you got…besides, rule number three.” Hums erupt from the depths of the mens’ chests, all except for Jin whose too caught up in his victory—however staged it was—to think about anything other than how he’ll celebrate. Yoongi sighs, clearly distressed, “Now, don’t come and get me unless the house is on fire.” He yawns, stretching with his whole body. Taehyung snorts out an innocent giggle as his elder amusingly starts to drag himself from the room, his feet sliding as he walks. 

Jimin jumps forward as if he’s just remembered life-altering news, “Wait,” He bellows, his voice stern. The three men halt their movements, even Yoongi who was already through the door turns to face the boy who spoke. Jimin looks to the floor, taking on a completely different persona while analyzing the deep wood strokes that give off a warm—almost homey—vibe which swaddles the room. He swallows, standing straight with his hands balled into fists at his side. “He doesn’t know she’s here. I’d like to keep it that way; for now at least.” Yoongi suddenly looks awake, as if every strand of exhaustion in his body somehow regenerated to give way to a new man, one who stands alert. 

He shakes the deep brown hair of his head down onto his forehead, the tips brushing his eyelashes with soft whispers that make you part your lips as you imagine what they might feel like gliding over the apple of your cheek. “Why does it matter?” The mysteriously handsome young assassin squints, narrowing his eyes before stepping close to the doorframe and leaning himself against it again; crossed arms closing him off as genuine inquiry floods his immaculate features. 

Jimin sighs, sounding defeated through the hitch in his voice. Upon inhaling he answers with blank eyes; the stone of his expertly tended facade covering him from head to toe. “She saw me last night.” 

You swear you could hear a pin drop. Every persons blood within the room has turned frigid. “You failed your mission? Hobi didn’t utter a word…and that’s—well, that’s just unlike him.” Jin stands with his shoulders back; alike to that of a well trained knight, or a proper gentleman. He sounds composed, but something in his face depicts a fear so potent it almost radiates off of him like perfume from a wealthy woman’s body. 

Jimin swallows, shaking his head before risking a glance at you. “No; I succeeded. My execution was spotless—as usual. That is until…well, until she walked in and saw the aftermath.” Jimin’s deep brown hair hangs forward with his head as he dips it in regret, raising his chin slightly in order to collect himself after a long minute of wallowing in his own self pity.

The room takes a dramatic shift in emotion. Not anger, nor frustration, or even the disappointment you’d expect emanates from the others…but instead, a keen sense of sadness lingers willingly within the cool room. “Oh my…” Jin whispers, his voice strangled. One of his shaky hands comes up to brush his lips and cover his now gaping mouth. “My dear I—”

“Jin.” Yoongi steps forward; placing a hand on his elders shoulder and looking him in the eyes. Greeting him with a stare that clearly depicts a message he is sure to receive. 

Let Jimin explain. He clearly hasn’t. Don’t make things worse.

Jin’s own eyes can’t help but glimmer under a sheer film of tears. He collects himself, and blinks rapidly. Recollecting the shards of his usual shell that Namjoon has taught him and the younger boys to adopt and nurture to maturity for their own protection. It’s at this moment—as he looks into you own welling-up eyes—that Jin comes to realize…he hasn’t cried tears of genuine sadness in years.

“I was reckless.” Jimin starts, breaking the awkward silence by shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants and folding his shoulders in slightly; looking smaller than before. “Everything just happened so fast. I moved lackadaisically after completing my mission. In the end there was no way of preventing her from spoiling the mission—” 

“You still feel no remorse! Continuing to act as if the unraveling of last nights disaster was my fault!” You erupt, causing Taehyung and Jin to jolt when you boil over and spit words of anger. “If you hadn’t realized Jimin…the man you killed was my father!” You spit, and for the first time…the sound of his birth given name coming from you stings like a potent acid. His eyes squeeze shut in a quick blink to avoid the wrath of your words. 

Jimin’s grip on his mental state begins to slip, the overwhelming need to tell you the truth practically eating him alive; so he falters, if not briefly—but massively just the same. “How can you call him that?! When was the last time he cared about you, huh?! You were just a thorn in his side! Nothing more than a contingency he—” 

“Enough!” Taehyung of all people yells, walking rather briskly up to you and gripping you by the shoulders. He stands behind you to not only protect you, but stare your arguer down. “Jimin, control that temper of yours. She’s been through enough in the last day. The last thing she needs is to add you to the list of people she fears…not that you haven’t already been crowned the top spot.” He mumbles the last part, but it’s obvious that everyone within the vicinity heard the growl that was thrust from deep within his chest despite the obvious drop in his volume.

Timorous tears flow in a steady rivulet down the plump apples of your flushed cheeks. Jimin’s face softens as his own words finally run themselves through his filter and he comes to realize what he just said. “H-how did you know?…” You stammer, hiccuping out a whimper. Reflexively you turn to fold yourself into Taehyung’s sinew. His hands hover over your upper back as you cry into his chest. He smells of soil and freshly cut grass, a lingering scent of mint and the musk of a man recently done with a workout. You’ve never been one to succumb to the touch of a stranger willingly—then again how can you say such things when Jimin was your first exception to that very way of living as of just last night?—However, Taehyung’s touch is one that is warm and featherlike. None of it even remotely forced. He’s calm but you can tell by the pounding beat of his heart against the strong bones hidden beneath his chest that it took every brave cell in his body to stand up to his friend. 

“Jimin.” Jin calls, making the young man he beckoned jump and whip his head towards him with a thick reluctance to his profile. The broad shouldered elder gestures with his head for Jimin to follow him out of the room. Hesitantly, Jimin bounces his eyes between you and the man he need not disobey. Taehyung returns a solemn gaze, a glaze over his corneas depicting the idea that you’ll be fine…and that Jimin should leave. 

He does just that, dragging himself from the room with a burning ire at himself that fuels the movement. He deserves the strict comeuppance that Jin is sure to let rain down on him like that of a parading waterfall. It’s only fair due to the way he handled his boiling-over temper and your emotions that are already in overdrive. 

Jin nods to Taehyung who gulps when he suddenly realizes that it’s him who needs to handle you now…as Jimin—your assigned guardian whether you like it or not—is otherwise…preoccupied. The door clicks shut, blocking the three other assassins from Taehyung's sight. And you can finally breathe. For a minute Taehyung stands holding you. You remain unfazed by the contact and only manage to squeeze the material of his shirt before he clears his throat. “Are you all right?” He whispers, his voice shaky. 

You push off of his strong chest; feeling him sigh as you do so. Nodding, you wipe away tear stains and look towards the door. “I-Is he always like that?” You sniffle, becoming aware of the fact that you probably look like a total wreck. 

“Only when he really cares.” 

Now that makes you laugh, a dry chuckle that lacks all licks of amusement and instead withholds a haunting pitch that sends a chilling surge up Taehyung’s spine. To imagine a man like Jimin wanting anything from you other than a good time is like asking a giraffe to swim, never before seen and rather amusing to foresee. “He only cares about protecting your precious little secret.” You shove him away, sighing and turning your back to him. Taehyung stumbles, moving backwards before steadying himself and taking a deep breath as he listens intently to your next whispered sentence. “What kind of man can be so…heartless?” Your voice shakes and quakes beneath the strain of your words. 

A lump grows in the pit of Taehyung’s stomach; crawling its way up into his throat when the abundance of restless nerves inside him coalesce. “Jimin isn’t heartless…he’s hotheaded. Major difference.” He grins, hoping his tinge of amusement will allow you a chance to smile once more. 

Tae thinks you’re awfully pretty when you smile. 

When you do the opposite—the corners of your mouth gravitating downward—he continues, “Listen,” He clears his throat, trying to rid himself of the persistent menace decorating the walls of his throat. “Why don’t you…take these into Jimin’s ensuite and get yourself cleaned up?” You turn and watch as he lifts the bags that were previously placed atop the futon and jiggle them with hopeful hands that you’ll take them. You glower at him but his expression never falters. He remains standing with a telltale grin plastered to his immaculate features. It’s truly a pain in the ass to try and be cold towards such attractive young men—killers. “Cmon, Chim didn’t go out and buy such nice clothes for you just to watch as you saunter the grounds in one of his old raggedy sweaters.” With a movement to his wrist he gestures towards the sweater that keeps you concealed. “Besides, I think there’s some designer stuff in here…if you don’t wear it…I will.” 

Its with superlative cavil that you remove the bags from his palms and start to walk backwards towards the one door in this room you have yet to open—aside from Jimin’s closets of course—you may have been trapped in this room all day…but you’re still respectful. Even if the primal curiosity coded into your DNA put up a pretty persuading argument to do the opposite. “Auf Wiedersehen.” Taehyung whispers as your fingers find the cool brass of the door handle. The German crackles off his tongue and sounds much more erotic than you ever imagined such a headstrong language could. Especially not coming from a man who before was practically silent when it came to approaching you mere minutes prior. 

The door pushes in behind you, allowing you passage into a new room. Taehyung disappears from view and a new kind of weight becomes known across the nerve passages of your body. The stiff bags barely keeping themselves from bursting at the seams from under your fingertips feel like the heaviest things you’ve ever carried. Air burns through your lungs upon hearing the door click shut…and once again, you’re alone.

Taehyung enters the hallway with a heavy heart; he’s never felt so useless in his life. Girls have never been Taehyung’s forte, not when it came to dealing with their emotions at least. With his…what the guys like to call “Unpredictability”, involving himself in relationships or one night stands has never truly been something of interest. Well, of course there’s interest. However, fear has glossed over that particular thought for quite a long time. Compassion though, has never left Taehyung or his mind; even when what he does for a quite comfortable living requires little to no compassion at all. Without it, one could argue that an assassin works better under the cloak of an emotionless sleeve. 

Emotions are key to living normally…and Taehyung fears that his housemates and fellow assassins have started to lose that tie to humanity. Hence the struggle Jimin faces when controlling his temper. Then there’s Yoongi, who covers up his feelings of bliss with sarcastic and or ambivalent comments that shut down any whisper of happiness. 

Namjoon, who Taehyung has feared and grown to nurture a competitive hate towards is what one could call emotionless. Never has he once seen Namjoon smile a smile so bright that his eyes crinkle shut, especially not since reconnecting with him—and the others—after he randomly vanished from the grid all those years ago. 

He knows very few feelings. That much is certain.

Their superior thrives off of three components. Part of Taehyung’s job is to be observant…that doesn’t just go for targets. Therefore, he has discovered Namjoon’s true fuel. 

Lust. Namjoon has a killer need for sex. His libido is never sated and if anything…it’s growing at an unnatural and shocking rate. Fear. The pure assassin practically feeds off of fear. It’s odd, Taehyung can recall few occasions where Namjoon seemed like one of the guys, he’ll laugh and playfully brush shoulders while wearing a whisper of a grin. However, those fleeting moments last a short while and in the blink of an eye Namjoon receives another urgent mission that he must pass down, therefore, the festivities are cut abruptly short…and the amusement dies. 

The last emotion is one Taehyung tends to overlook, and finds to be the strangest of them all. Namjoon feels—

“Tae!” Jin yells from the foyer. His tone is hushed, Taehyung is actually surprised he heard anything at all. Jin gestures with two fingers for him to make his way down the large center staircase and follow him, fleetingly glancing at Jimins shut bedroom door to appease his inner anxiety. “How is the trapped princess?” He jokingly asks when Taehyung bounces off the bottom step and his shoes clack off the marble flooring upon impact. 

Despite the good nature of the joke, Taehyung answers with strong animosity, “She could be worst, but Jimin was cruel. He scared her.” Jin nods equably, watching the brass inner workings of a rather gargantuan grandfather clock tick and swing. 

“He knows.” Taehyung attempts to meet his elders gaze, but Jin remains entranced by the melodic sway of the golden pendulum. “He wont stop cursing at himself in the other room. I fear he’s getting attached.” 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, “Attached? How can he? They just met; and judging by the exchange upstairs…I’m reticent to call them acquaintances let alone friends.” Taehyung gestures to the staircase, nurturing a strong vehemence.

Jin grins, finally looking away from the pendulum. “I agree. However, you’ll want to hear what Jimin has to say.” 

Jin insisted that Jimin apologize. He went on and on about the erroneous way in which Jimin confronted you and that he should also find a way to make it up to Taehyung. 

As if Jimin didn’t already have enough on his plate. 

Jimin wasn’t keen on causing another uproar, so he agreed with everything Jin said and headed back up the foyer stairs with a brand new feeling deep in his gut. 

She already hates me. Everything I said was vile. I didn’t even think to consider her feelings. 

He scolds internally, his face contorting with emotion as he emphasizes the end of every word in his head. So lost in thought, Jimin ends up catching the toe to one of his shoes and tripping over one of the hard stone steps he was climbing. He crashes his knee onto the above step with a grunt of pain, and a choice curse word.

“Smooth.” Teases a voice from the above landing. Jimin’s eyes find the source by moving upwards. Jung Hoseok, his fellow assassin and degenerate that he knows you possess a fuzzy memory of stands with crossed arms. 

Jimin pushes himself to his feel, dusting his knees off and coming into eye contact with the dark haired boy. Hoseok stands ahead of him with a black denim jacket on, and a unwelcoming scowl to his features. “Where are you headed?” Jimin rubs his knee; trying to subdue a trivial throbbing.

“Out.” Hoseok admits vaguely, throwing his hands forcefully into his jacket pockets and moving down a couple steps to line up with his underling that tends to forget his place.

“You’ll miss dinner if you leave so soon. You should stay.” Jimin turns with the muscles of his face relaxed, trying with all his might to keep Hoseok from snapping. Despite the tone of voice he so hastily used, the response he receives is the opposite of what he prayed for. 

Hoseok scoffs, his eyes thinning to take on a depraved facade, “I already told you Jimin. Or do you just not get it?” He shrugs, gesturing widely with his hands in his pockets after turning viciously around to stare down the smaller of the two. “I’m not helping you keep her a secret. I don’t wanna be anywhere near her; especially not when Joon finally gets home.” An infinitesimal amount of clemency flashes itself over the shrinking irises of Hoseok’s eyes. “You didn’t do her any favors by bringing her here. So, stop acting like the hero.” He spits belligerently.

As if controlled by the assassin within, Jimin turns fiercely, grabbing his friend by the throat and squeezing. Disfavour wipes itself over the nictitating membrane of Jung Hoseoks inner snake. He smirks, grinning wickedly before hissing his next sentence. “You’ll see, she’ll turn out to be just like her father. It’s in her genes, there’s no saving her.” 

Jimin throws him to the ground, Hoseok tumbles down the steps. He lands on the last few steps with a thud and groans. “Say what you like, but she’s not and never will be like him.” Jimin adjusts his open suit jacket and sighs, “If you’re just going to act like this then forget what I said; Leave.” Jimin turns once more to connect his eyes with his elders, remembering his place in the invisible hierarchy that thrives within these walls. “This isn’t you Hobi.” The use of the nickname throws Hoseok off, it’s an endearing tag. One that the younger men in the household have always called him…even Jin and Yoongi playfully use it once in a blue moon. “I miss the other side of you. Tell me when you find him underneath that tough shell you’ve built up. I’ll be wanting to talk to him.” 

Jimin makes his way up the rest of the stairs; disappearing down the hallway ending at his bedroom doors, leaving Hoseok speechless and lost in himself. “Where did my humanity go?” He thinks, gulping and finding himself walking to the front door and running his hand over the thick brass handle that begs to turn but doesn’t. Instead, his fingers fall away and Hoseok traipses slowly towards the laughter that rings through the corridors from the informal living room, no doubt where the others are gathered.

Perhaps it’s time to find that lost humanity or…at least…to try.

You’d showered successfully. Thankfully, your worries about finding a high-tech-hard-to-use-bathroom we’re all for naut. Showering at all had turned out to be the easy part. It was shuffling through the endless purchases that Jimin had made on your behalf that turned out to be the burden you had to bear. “Not bad.” You smile, turning to the side to inspect your profile and admire the ninth choice of outfit you had made.

“I’ll say.” Jimin’s voice carries itself across the condensation crested walls to your unsuspecting ears. 

You spin around violently, holding yourself at the midsection and catching your breath. “How did you get in here? I locked the door.” You tilt your head towards the ajar entrance that Jimin must have closed back over upon entering. 

He smirks, lifting his hand to glance at something trapped between two of his fingers. “Never underestimate an assassin with a bobby pin.” You roll your eyes as he tosses it at you, the little piece of metal hitting your chest before you catch it when it bounces off. A pregnant pause ages between the two of you, and it’s as if Jimin’s eyes refuse to leave your form. He looks you up and down repeatedly…and you aren’t sure how to feel. “You look…beautiful.” He finally says, breaking the awkward silence and surprising you.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You picked everything out.” You shrug, turning back towards the mirror and smoothing down the material of your skirt to adjust the comfy black material. “You could have at least spared me a pair of jeans or leggings though.” Jimin moves closer, only a few feet from you now as he glances into the opened lingerie bag and blushes. 

He clears his throat, “Next time. I sought out skirts because I thought you’d look nicest in them.” You blink rapidly, trying to keep yourself calm by fidgeting with the bobby pin resting in your palm. “Seems I was wrong—”

You look him in the eye, offended. “What is that supposed to—”

“You look better.” Jimins hands fidget within the shallow pockets of his suit jacket as he wishes to touch the inviting plain of your back.

You look up, your eyes meeting his own blown out pair that scan you with a potent hesitance. He gulps, as you do the same. “Did um, did you need something?” 

Jimin removes one hand from the abyss of his pocket to massage the back of his neck. “I just…wanted to see if you were okay.”

You put your hands on your hips, spinning to face him. “Oh. I’m just peachy.” You move past him, hitting his shoulder with yours as you do so. 

“I sense sarcasm.” He chuckles, brushing off your cute attempt at hurting him and turning to follow you. 

“You’re smarter than I thought.” 

He whiffles, “I should have kept my thoughts to myself and dimmed my flaring temper. I’m truly sorry.” 

“Jimin, you really aren’t in a position to feel sorry for yourself. Try to immortalize the big brave man all you want…but to me, you’re still pathetic and your actions will never be deemed forgivable. I can’t accept your apology. Not now, and probably not ever.” You’re rather proud of your approach to handling the all powerful assassin ahead of you, his hair laying lazily atop his head and his lips tugged into a tight purse that slowly starts to creep into a full blown frown. 

“Allow me a chance to explain.” Jimin offers you a hand, holding it out in front of him and hoping with all his might that you’ll accept the gesture. 

“I’d rather not know the gruesome details of my fathers death thank you very much.” You cross your arms and make your way back into his bedroom, finding the bathroom too intimate and claustrophobic. 

You need room to breathe.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not who you think I am. I don’t kill for satisfaction or revenge I—”

You turn on your heal, quickly facing him. The movement itself knocks the words away from Jimin and his feet give way beneath him. He stumbles thanks to your sudden stop. “Just for money?! The thrill?! To satisfy some sadistic evil festering inside you like a disease?!” You point a finger at his nose, walking with power as the man before you moves backwards on heavy feet.

Jimin grabs you by the wrists; squeezing them before he calms himself. He’s grown so frustrated and angry at himself for the pain he’s caused you that the movement seems innocuous. “I—” His voice cracks and your eyes soften in surprise; you don’t struggle to get away from him. “My relationship with death is vast and ever growing. At this point I have no way to escape such a thing. When Namjoon found me. Found us—”

“Jimin I don’t—”

“Please, you need to know this all right? It’s imperative.”

You nod.

“It’s been years since I thought about mediocre things like shopping, comfort, or love.” He starts, gesturing for you to take a seat upon his mattress. “When I saw you in that bar…I had no idea you were connected to my next assignment. I swear it. Upon reading the case file, Namjoon read that the target had a child. Given the CEO’s standing in paternal matters…we thought little of it and figured said child was safe elsewhere.” 

“Elsewhere? Hah! I was elsewhere, getting swept of my feet and tongued down by none other than the likes of the man who was destined to shower in my family’s blood!”

You thought slaps wouldn’t hurt so much. At least…for the person giving one. In movies you hear the sound of skin on skin. After that the assailant usually goes on with their monologue and leaves the other shocked and tear stained. That isn’t your case. One-second you hear yourself screaming out an A+ retort and the next your arm is slashing through the air and your palm smears a loud slap against Jimin’s cheek. 

“Fucking ow! Uncalled for!” Jimin yells out of anger, smoothing the reddened skin on the cheek that just received a beating. 

You grab your palm, blowing on it despite the fact that the air will do absolutely nothing to dull the sting. “I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that…” You avert your eyes, turning and sitting on the futon against the footboard to the bed. 

Jimin starts to laugh, standing straight with his hand still pressed to the flushed skin. “No kidding! I’m more impressed than upset though. You surprised me.” He walks to his dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out a hand mirror. He inspects the wounded area, gleaming with an odd type of pride. “Usually I know when an enemy is going to swing or strike. Not that you’re an enemy of course but wow. You really took me by surprise.”

“Jimin?” You look down at your crimson palm, the colors fading slowly.

“Hm?” He hums tilting his chin in the mirror to see the extent of the damage.

“So this really was all a huge coincidence?”

Jimin turns to face you, putting the mirror on his end table before he comes to squat in front of you. “In retrospect…yes.” 

The two of you fall silent, the sound of Jimin’s nervous breathing filling your ears.

“So you were hired to murder him? Why? By who? This is all still so much to process.” Jimin starts to spin the rings on his fingers, nervously chewing his lip and refusing to make eye contact. 

“It’s confidential.” He murmurs, “You’re too much of a flight risk still to tell you details; and this information is only safe up here and in the minds of the others.” He points to his temple, implying that his brain is the only place for such hush-hush information.

“I still deserve to know! He was my father, a shitty one sure but his death still effects me! For years I wanted him dead…but now that he’s gone the questions I had for him that burned inside me will never be answered.” Tears burrow against your waterline; one rivulet following another.

“________. I would—I want to tell you. But I can’t. If I do I couldn’t ensure your safety. And I absolutely cannot live with knowing that you got hurt. I’ll fail if you do.” Jimins hands no longer fidget, and his rings fall still. You know he’s telling the truth. 

Judging by the way others perceive him…Namjoon doesn’t seem like a sunflower who’s willing to talk things out. You have a gut feeling that his games include a sharp knife pressed to the skin of your throat and a fifty-fifty chance for death. If Jimin were to tell you every little detail he could no longer promise you a safe haven or safe passage back through the front doors.

You surrender, finding it in your best interest not to press on any longer. “Fine. Can you just…tell me that you had good reason?” You know you won’t be able to move past this without knowing something.

“I had great reason, and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. All of it.” Jimin reaches for your hand, taking it easily. He squeezes it, the cloud-like pressure reminding you of all the good there is in this world…and that past the bad…there’s always a silver lining. 

Is Jimin that very silver lining you’ve been waiting for all these years?

When your lips part, Jimin continues his execution and finally reaches the point he had been so blatantly ordered to deftly bequeath by Jin. “In light of my apology…and your half-assed acceptance, I’d like to cordially invite you to dinner.” He smiles and you cock your head to the side in question. “Frankly, you were most certainly going to attend anyway…but, I’m no beast so, I wanted to give you the choice of accompanying me.” He seems to grow nervous, especially when you tongue the inside of your cheek in contemplation. 

You stand before him on a pedestal of pure goddess rank, Jimin has never before felt so inclined to tell a woman how absolutely gut wrenching it is to not compliment her. You deserve all the praise in the world, every inch of you should be worshipped. And Jimin is oh so close to dropping to his knees and bowing before you as he once again stands admiring the curvature of your cupids bow; awaiting your decision.

The dark haired boy manages to catch his voice, coaxing you further. “It would be a shame to not show you off. You look absolutely…breathtaking.” He emphasizes the compliment with a sharp exhale that leaves his chest falling. You raise your chin and link eyes with him once more; his irises tango with yours and keeping you from saying no. How could you when such an ethereal man is begging to hold you at the arm and feed you? 

It’s a crime in itself to turn down a good meal.

Besides, it has been hours since you tasted something other than the inside of your cheeks and whatever remnants of blueberry clings to your tastebuds.

“I’ll allow it, but under one condition.” You watch as amusement floods into the cracks of Jimins grin, the emotion looking better on him than it ever has on you. 

He shakes his head, his hair moving beautifully with the action. He swings your arms back and forth, waiting to hear your request. “You and your conditions.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes and falling back slightly. 

“Buy me at least one pair of jeans.”

He snaps his fingers, “Deal.”

Upon making your second agreement, Jimin leaves you alone to finish preparing for the day ahead. Once again you stand inside his ensuite, tirelessly trying to look presentable. Thankfully, you have plenty of time before dinner becomes anything other than an event to come, so you take your time in drying your hair and applying product before blowdrying the mop into a slight wave. 

Jimin hadn’t complained about your outfit, so you take that as enough praise to keep it on. 

You run your fingers through the newly warm tresses of your hair, the soft texture capturing your conscience. While performing the movement, you crack your eyes open and feel your heart fall with a splash into the deep depths of your gut. Inside one of the many mirrors within the confines of these four walls—give or take—you catch the long unforgiving stare of your doppelgänger and gasp at just how much she resembles a scared victorian child with influenza that won’t make it through the winter. Your hands drop from the combed ends of your hair to the apples of your cheeks where you examine the features of your face with a prominent frown.

Although doubtful that Jimin knew the slightest bit about makeup, let alone where to purchase it…you rush towards the bags in a last-stitch attempt to subdue the lilac half-moons attacking your eyes, and the pale hue to your dewy skin. As assumed, makeup was the last thing on Jimins mind, that point proven when you come up empty handed. You find only a first aid kit beneath the sink and plenty of overpriced brands of shampoo and conditioner…part of what must be Jimin’s beauty regimen. 

You knew he had one, there’s no plausible way anyone could be born that beautiful. 

Maybe, if you’re lucky and ask with a bat of your eyelashes…Jimin would be nice enough to run out and buy you some essentials. Thumbing over the thought repeatedly, you come to the conclusion that it couldn’t hurt to ask. You rush through the ajar threshold in the search of the man with the money, expecting to find him gracing the mattress or perhaps stroking the tree and thumbing the pages of one of his many books that fill the bookshelves. 

To your dismay, he’s not anywhere in sight. The only thing hinting at him passing through being the copy of Pride and Prejudice that has somehow managed its way back into its dust ridden space on the bookshelf. It’s easy to spot, being the most disheveled and worn of all copies occupying those decadent shelves. 

You begin to turn around, perturbed by Jimin’s absence. In doing so, a familiar hum fills your ears. 

The balcony. 

Upon approach, you see Jimin leaning over the same stone railing he pressed himself against when you woke this morning. The balcony doors are open, and the same sheen curtains flow with the breeze that fills the room with a rushing tinge of lilac. His profile is aimed towards the sky as each note reverberates from his throat to his lips. A warm smile plasters itself to the mass of his pillow lips, and his eyes are closed as he feels the embrace of the incoming wind cocoon him and whisk him off, far away from here. 

He must be so warm.

“Why hum something so mournful?” You question, curious as to why he chooses to hum such a depressing tune when there are endless amounts of beautiful songs he could choose from. “You’re forcing me to consider jumping off the balcony to free myself from the melancholy carry of your voice.” 

Jimin laughs, his mouth finally opening and the tune coming to a stop.

“Balconing without a swimming pool on the receiving end is not recommended unless you hope to pay the nearest hospital a visit.” Jimin grins a sarcastic teeth filled smile, staring out and over the vast expanse of the garden. He doesn’t see your confused face and therefore refuses to elaborate. “As for the hymn…it has a…sadistic kind of nostalgia to it.” He risks a flickering glance your way when you enter the mass of the balcony and join him against the stone railing, feet between you. “I’ll explain it to you when you choose to stay with us.” 

“Tell me who hired you to kill my father and I’ll consider it.” 

That makes Jimin cock an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t be like that, I thought we came to an agreement. It’s safer for you not to know.” He turns around to face the opened French doors, leaning backwards on his elbows. 

“I know. That doesn’t stop me from remaining curious though.” 

The two of you fall into a silence that unlike before, is much more comfortable and has an almost…normal air to it. You can hear his breathing, slow and steady as it rushes from his lungs only to be sucked back in with every contraction and expansion of the monumental organs. “I really am sorry about snapping at you before.” He suddenly reiterates, turning his head to look at you and analyze your reaction. 

Your eyes shift to look down and off to the side at a patch of tulips when you feel a knot tie in your stomach, “I know.” You murmur, crossing your arms and rotating your shoulders forward to keep yourself warm and comfortable in the breeze. “You make it hard to hate you when you apologize strongly and keep me from jumping off balconies.” You trail off and finally lock eyes with the man who’s entire face is soft and absorbed into a smile that’s both equally calming and offsetting. “But I sure as hell can be stubborn! So don’t go thinking you’re on my top ten list of favorite people just because of one silly apology and a pair of Spanx.” 

There it is. The sarcasm and impetuous vie you possess that keeps him wanting to earn your approval. He smiles, “I won’t.” The smell of heliotrope fills your nose and overwhelms your senses while a mutual sharing of silence develops between you. “I promise.” 

Jimin remains silent for another few minutes before excusing himself to a phone call. “Don’t jump.” He teases, hand covering the microphone to his device. You roll your eyes and watch as he walks back inside with the phone pressed to his ear. The balcony suddenly appears so much emptier without his humming—however depressing it was. 

You stare off into the clouds, feeling the warm sun on your face. Since making your agreement, Jimin has been tender and caring. Regardless, it had barely been a day since you’d seen a rather monstrous side of him. A side you would rather never lay eyes on again. Memories of his hair dripping under the light of moonbeams still cause you to shiver. He was breathtaking; and still is. But the fact remained: Jimin is a merciless murderer. 

That being the forsaken reality, your ‘host’ rides a thin line between the hated and the loved. He’ll continue to balance himself on it until you get the truth out of him, and boy are you determined.

All you can hear is heavenly piano music. It flows like a river throughout the grandiose halls of the mansion. The melody is what called you from Jimin’s bedroom. Your bare feet allow you to walk silently down the hall towards the grand staircase. Your ears falling victim to the music that beckons you forward. 

You pass the painting of the goddess who holds the severed head of a traitor with her sickly slim fingers. Oddly, the piece is starting to grow on you. While giving it a last once over before you submit fully back into the piano you notice something written on the bottom left corner. Etching of two initials sit hugging the strokes that you were otherwise too preoccupied to notice under first examination. ‘J.K.’ It reads, the coloring slightly smudged as the painter got lazier towards the end of writing it. 

Despite your lock on the painting and its unique features, something of a higher caliber rips your attention from it in a painfully quick manner. Similar to the feeling one gets as a bandaid is stripped from their skin. Further down the hallway—in a part of the house you have yet to step into—a door has just clicked shut forcefully, and a young man of unfamiliar origins in making his way towards you; a video camera in hand. He glances upwards and ignores you, looking back up to perform a double-take and provide a look of confusion. He gulps, his soft yet chilled features obstinate and frozen. His eyes are the only things that move; fluttering up and down your body like a butterfly keen on kissing the apple of your cheeks. 

“Uh—” He starts, clearing his throat. “Hi…” He lifts a slender finger in recognition, a makeshift wave that you return with a slight bow of your head. 

“Hi.” You answer back, rocking on the balls of your feet. 

“Are you lost?” He asks, coming closer and stopping to lean on the railing that keeps anyone from taking a dreadful tumble off the second floor landing. 

You turn towards him, no longer examining the crystals of the opulent chandelier but rather to spy the specks that glimmer in his eyes. “What?” You growl; your tone coming out less than friendly. You chew on your lip and hope he didn’t take your words to heart. 

As expected, he blinks rapidly and moves back suitably out of surprise. “I um—” He clears his throat again, looking away from you and toying with some of the buttons on his video recorder. His other hand disappears behind his back. “I don’t mean to be rude but, who are you?” 

You snort, exhaling sharply out of your nose. “So you haven’t been filled in either, hm?” 

He blushes, “I don’t think I know what you mean, Miss.” 

Sighing, you smile softly. You suppose that getting to know the guys who haven’t murdered a close relative couldn’t hurt. Not to mention, this tall, muscular, and oddly soft looking young man seems not only trustworthy…but kind. “I’m a guest of Jimin’s.” You return his smile, his face turning bright pink when you lean down close to him on the railing. He gulps, pulling at the loose scoop neck of his tee as if it’s choking him when in reality it couldn’t hang closer to his collarbones. 

“Is that so?” His voice cracks, “I should’ve guessed.” Both his hands return to his front. It must be an assassin thing to be prepared for anything even a home intrusion. 

Furrowing a brow you question his comment, “Could you have?” 

“Hm?” He hums, shrugging when he recounts what you asked and goes to answer it. “Jimin…has a type. I could’ve guessed you were his—”

“I’m not his.” 

There is an awkward silence. “Oh.” He utters, the word whispered through his thin lips.

It’s clear that he doesn’t know how to react. A recurring theme with the young men in this household. Taehyung was nurturing, but in the way a brother is when he finds his sister crying and doesn’t know how to comfort her. “I’m Jungkook by the way.” Is what he settles on; trying to break the tension that lingers like unwelcome fog. 

Jungkook. So this is the boy who painted the goddess. 

“I’ve heard of you.”

He sits up, shocked and slightly nervous. “Really?” You nod.

You turn and point to the goddess painting that hangs equably on the wall. “You painted that.” 

You hear Jungkook gasp and turn back to find the most gorgeous teeth filled smile. “How did you know that?” His eyes glimmer and gleam when they connect with yours and a childlike wonder envelopes him. 

You soften your smile. “You have fans.” 

“Fans?” 

You walk to the painting, touching the initials that you now know belong to Jungkook. “Besides, aren’t these your initials?”

Jungkook trails slowly behind you, his hands calmly holding his camcorder. He nods an affirmation. 

You pause and once again admire the work he’s so delicately mastered. “Well, it’s beautiful. You should be proud.” You don’t even need to look at him to know he’s blushing a deep fuchsia. “What does it mean?” 

He laughs, finding the question amusing for some unspoken reason. “In all honesty…I’m not too sure.” He sighs, thinking back to the time where the painting was just a thought; now it hangs outstretched in front of him in all its glory. “The others in the household practically raised me. So, all I know is strength at the hands of men. I thought…there must be an opposite.” He moves towards a window nook that overlooks the garden and takes a seat. “That also gave me the idea.” Without needing to look, you know exactly what it is he’s gesturing to. The same statue that gave you mixed emotions earlier this morning. 

“True beauty converses with death…” You whisper.

“What?” He asks, looking up at you from his seat. 

“Oh, nothing.” 

He shrugs, acknowledging your lack of wanting to explain and letting the topic drop. Jungkooks stands and dusts off his dark denim jeans. “Care to allow me to escort you downstairs? Everyone should be in the living room.” 

“But its right there and I haven’t heard—”

Jungkook bursts out laughing. “Geez, you really are new here.” Leading you down the stairs, he continues speaking; “That’s the sitting room. The living room’s on the other side of the house; and its almost always trashed.” 

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, it acts as a playground for all of us.” He chuckles, “You’ll like it.”  

You have never heard someone talk so animatedly about the inner workings of a camera. However, Jungkook can. And he continues to with a bunny smile so blinding that you need to squint just to admire it. He makes the long walk through the mansion feel so short with all his flamboyancy. He talks about his art and then explains how to snap the perfect picture by taking advantage of angles. The thing that surprised you most about the camera was the price of it; who knew that murder could earn someone such a prosperous living.

You might just have to kick flower arrangement to the curb.

“There are many lenses for it but I have my favorites.” Jungkook giggles like a lovesick school girl; except there is no crush involved…unless one can carry feelings for a rather pretty camera. 

“It seems like a fun hobby.”

“I like to think so. We can’t leave the house often, or at least…we try not to. Attracting attention isn’t something we pride ourselves on doing.” Jungkook’s eyes flicker frantically, he must be hesitant to reveal his and the others’ occupation. Little does he know, you are all too aware of what the residents of this mansion do to earn such a cushy lifestyle.

“I’m sure. Murder is a messy business to dabble in. I’d find a hobby to take my mind off of it too.” Jungkook turns to you quickly, eyes wide.

“You do know!” He yells, skipping slightly to face you while continuing to walk; backwards now. “Jimin must really trust you! He doesn’t tell anyone what we do. It’s a rule.” 

You shrug, appearing nonchalant. “Something like that.” 

Jungkook hums, acknowledging that the topic is running dry. “So, do you have any hobbies?” The two of you stop at a couple floor length windows that line a hallway with an ajar wooden sliding door at the end. All the windows are opened slightly; the doors of them pushed outwards to let the chill of the fall air inside. 

“I—” You think briefly, are flowers a hobby? “I like to arrange flower bouquets; My grandmother taught me.” 

Jungkook mindlessly pulls at the baby hairs beneath his chin, listening to you through glassy eyes. “That’s cool, my grandmother doesn’t know jack about flowers. Her specialty was always hitting me with a big wooden spoon when I did something wrong.” 

“Kinky.”

“No no, I have scars.” 

The two of you laugh in unison, a pause comfortably falling over you as the humor dials down. “I’m sure the beatings were deserved.” 

He shrugs, still smiling. “Probably, I was always a trouble child.” 

“Hm, me too; looks like we have that in common pretty boy.” You playfully shove him with your hip and shoulder, brushing your body against his own in a way that makes Jungkook’s heart sing. 

Jungkooks mind starts to race as his fingers comb over the capture button of his camera. He clicks it once too hard and it goes off with a vivid flash. You yelp at the blinding light, waving your hands in the air as if you’ll be protected from the scare by them. “I’m s-so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and the trigger is sensitive—” Jungkook apologizes, watching as you squint your eyes with a laughter that’s stronger than its last wave. This one brings tears to your eyes and an arm wraps around your midsection when your muscles start to ache with humor. 

“Jungkook it’s okay!”

The younger boy can’t help but blush. The heat rushing to his face was so fast and unexpected that he ends up a little lightheaded.

“Did you look at the picture?”

“Huh?” He blinks quickly, coming back from space. “Oh, no I didn’t look. Here, delete it if you want.” 

Jungkook hands you his camera, but the strap is still around his neck. You take a step towards him, barely any scant space between you two. You look to the screen and find a picture of you reacting to the flash, mouth open and eyes caught in the glare, golden dots replacing your irises. You giggle, seeing Jungkooks fingers in the corner of the lens due to his panic. “No, keep it. It’ll be good for you to look back on once I leave this place.”

“How long are you staying?” 

“About a month; So long as I stay on Jimin’s good side. So get used to seeing me around.”

“I think I could…” Jungkook mumbles, his words following an exhale.

You look up and meet his eyes; soft features mere inches from yours. Jungkook gulps, and his tongue peeks out from within his mouth. His gaze falls, landing on your moist lips just as a cacophonous boom of voices sound from the half open sliding door at the end of the hall. Jungkook rips his attention from you to look at the opening. He clears his throat, “That’s the living room.” 

You take a step back. “Ladies first.” You joke, motioning with your eyes for Jungkook to walk in and be the first subjected to the onslaught of judgy eyes that are bound to lay beyond.

“Everyone, have you met _____?” Jungkook smiles, awaiting your entry and calling the attention of the men spread throughout the room. 

“Yes Kook. We’ve been acquainted.” Seokjin chuckles, patting the cushion next to him as a means of summoning the younger boy into traipsing over and popping a squat. 

“No fair Hyung! Why am I always the last one to know things?!”

The ongoing conversation has dissolved to become nothing more than passing small talk. It has become clear to you that comfort was something the men of this household held dearly; but even knowing this could not have prepared you for the unadulterated comfort emporium that is their living room. Jungkook truly wasn’t kidding when he called this room a playground. The couch alone could hold a whole kindergarten class. Maybe two. Both ends of the room have two sets of French doors. The windows posing as next door neighbors are covered completely by thick dark curtains. So the room is thrown into an artificial glow from the high hats above. 

Against the furthest wall, pinball machines you’d see in old arcades glimmer and glow with words meant for paying customers. A foosball table decorates the rear of the couch, and Taehyung proceeds to flip the rows of plastic players without anyone to play against. 

“Kook, come play this with me. Hoseok’s in one of his moods.” Taehyung grumbles, flicking his eyes towards Hoseok who stands near one of the doors; staring out broodingly. 

“I have ears Tae.” His elder answers, glowering over his shoulder. 

“No kidding! I thought you were deaf considering the fact that you never hear the words that come out of your own mouth.” 

Jin raises his voice before the two can cause physical harm. “That’s enough from you two. Knock it off. We have company; and you’re being rude.” 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You bow your head towards the floor, somewhat regretful. Maybe staying in Jimin’s room would’ve been ideal. 

“Nonsense! No ones been able to relax since you arrived.” Jin gestures with his hands. Something about Jin tells you he’s hiding something rather sinister beneath his immaculate features and strong brows.

“I take it that’s a good thing?”

“Good thing? Dear, its a great thing!” Jin smiles, standing to meet you on your way to the sofa. “Come, sit. Did Jimin tell you about dinner?”

You take a seat on the cloud-like sofa next to Jin who looks right at home. All he’s missing is a glass of red wine. If he had one he’d look even more like a member of the ethereal undead than he does regularly. “He did. He invited me, which was surprising.” 

“Jimin’s full of surprises. Not always good ones, but he definitely keeps us from getting bored.”

“And on our toes.” Hoseok grumbles, sounding both mutinous and amused.

“True.” Both Taehyung and Jungkook chime, giggling like toddlers before resuming their game. 

“I suppose living together has its ups and downs. Even for assassins.” 

“Never a dull moment; right boys?” A series of grunts coalesce before meeting your ears, sounds of affirmation flowing from the surrounding ensemble. 

“I still can’t come to comprehend the reason you’re all here. I wouldn’t exactly call this town…special.” You press, desperate for answers.

“Don’t you go worrying your little head about anything like that. We just happen to like this town, and the house allows us space to grow as people.” Jin reaches forward for a silver tea set on the coffee table. He pours you a cup without asking and pushes the cream and sugar in your direction. 

“T-thank you.” The porcelain is rich with warmth in your hand, and the smell alone is enough for you to reach for the sugar. 

“If I recall correctly…you rather enjoy flowers don’t you? Jimin mentioned something about a flower shop.” Jin fondles his tea, taking a sip and awaiting your answer.

You clear your throat, “Yes, my grandmother owns a boutique a few towns over. Let’s just say…that’s where Jimin found me.”

Hoseok smirks silently out the glass. Found. He thinks, suppressing a laugh.

“Jin.” Taehyung calls, wearing a box smile. “You like to garden don’t you?” 

He gives you a knowing glance. You’ll need to thank him later for the slight redirection of the topic.

“Well, yes; but the hobby has sort of fallen through and my work has slacked.” 

“I’m sure I could help with that. I’ll need something to do around here.”

For some unknown reason, Jungkook can’t help but blush when he hears you say that. Something to do. He shakes his head, trying to forget it.

Jin and you soon develop a conversation about Tulips and their color range. It seems you aren’t the only one around here to appreciate the workmanship around this mansion. Jin even throws out names like Nierembergia, Bougainvillea, and Coreopsis like they were names everyone should know. 

“Tending to chrysanthemums is easy as long as you don’t overwater them and remove dead leaves that gather around their stem. They require the utmost amount of sunlight though.” 

“I know! But some people still don’t realize that replanting them in their garden isn’t very hard. So, half the flowers wither away. It’s such a horrible waste.” You frown, feeling for the trashed fauna.

“Ah hah!” Jungkook yells, interrupting the informative conversation. “One more point TaeTae and you owe me fifty.” 

“Best two out of three?” A disheveled Taehyung begs; meekly suggesting the idea. His eyebrows are furrowed, and there’s a sullen sheen to his eyes. 

Before the younger can answer, Park Jimin bursts through the threshold and into the room. “Kook! There you are! You don’t happen to have some dye lying around do you?”

“What? Why?” Jungkooks hair flops up and down as he stands straighter before ducking back into the foosball table. 

“I think you know why; besides, I was getting bored of the brown.” 

“Why the hell would you ask Jungkook of all people for hair dye? God knows he only rotates various shades of brown.” Hoseok growls, the words screaming through gritted teeth. “If you’re going to ask anyone for colorful dye then talk to Yoongi. He’ll have some puke orange or thin mint green for you.” Hoseok has moved to the couch since your arrival, he nurses a cup of tea—generously offered by Seokjin—and skims the pages of a book. However, he looks bored.

“Yoongi’s knocked out. I could kiss the hair dye goodbye if I wake him; I’ll have a big black shiner instead.” Jimin takes a few steps into the room, allowing his weight to land on each foot with heavy clunks. 

Hoseok smirks, but doesn’t let anyone see. He knows all too well that despite Yoongi’s stature, he packs one mean punch. The idea of seeing Jimin’s cheekbones bruised is enticing given the current strain between both him and the desperate boy. But, he’s sure to receive something far worse from Namjoon. So its best to spare him anything that will extend his recovery time. He is an asset after all. “Fine, check under my sink. I don’t know whats there but I’m sure you’ll find something to appease you your royal highness.” Hoseok looks up from his book to sarcastically bow.

You watch with curious eyes as Jimin leaves the room just as quickly as he came. Everyone else resumes their prior activity, and silence consumes your ears. That is…until curiosity eats away at your mute. “Is it a common thing to have hair dye lying around?” You wonder, looking to Taehyung for an answer.

He grins, “We tend to dye our hair with every move, or when a plan goes awry.” 

“Last night would be a good example wouldn’t it?” 

He nods, “Yes. It’s a good way to become…invisible again.” 

“Funny, bright colors usually make you more noticeable.” 

The group chuckles, “You’d be surprised how easy it is to obfuscate yourself in a crowd with practice. Hair color is a mask. And each new hue is just the entrance to the next masquerade.” 

The hours pass and eventually you find yourself alone once more in Jimin’s bedroom. The boys excused themselves for dinner and Jungkook walked you back. 

Sheepish, he cleared his throat; “I tend to shut myself away sometimes. I’m no Yoongi-hyung but, If you ever wanted to stop by then I think I could deal with sacrificing some of my alone time.”  Jungkook shrugged, smiling shyly when you nod out a silent ‘Put me down for regular visits’. 

“Thank you Kook; you should go get ready for dinner. It’s getting close to that time and I have a feeling Jin can be rather mean if he wants to be.”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook laughs. “One time I tried to eat chicken with a salad fork. He almost took off two of my fingers.” 

“Assassin lifestyle?” 

He nods, “Assassin lifestyle.” 

You two laugh, you’re thankful that Jungkook has accepted you as someone he can openly talk to. His shy demeanor and puppy like skittishness has slowly started to slip away. With every passing moment Jungkook’s smile becomes wider, his hands less shaky, and his eyes stay on yours for more than a fleeting millisecond. 

“I’ll see you at dinner.” 

“Don’t get lost.” He Jokes.

“Funny.”

Now, you wait for some magical dinner bell or oversized rare Mongolian gong to ring. Instead, you get a knock. A boring, mediocre knock on the door to Jimins bedroom. 

And you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

“You decent?” A voice calls, the tone too muffled to be clearly made out. You silently hope its Jimin here to bring you to dinner…or even better, to bring dinner to you. You’d be kidding yourself if you said Jimin’s bed isn’t the worlds comfiest. Leaving it is not on the agenda for this evening. Therefore, Jimin—or whoever lingers behind the door like a ghost—can let themselves in. “Not that I care all that much, but most people open the door for their visitors.” 

If the person behind the door was indeed Jimin, you find it odd that he doesn’t just enter. Therefore, it must be one of the others. Cranking the door handle downwards, you swing open the door to reveal Hoseok. He stands in the door frame with his arms resting on both sides of the threshold. His head was previously pressed to the wood of the door so he jolts slightly when it is suddenly whisked open. 

“What do you want?” You try your best to sound angered, but his close proximity not only surprised you but left you with a wicked pulse. You turn to move deeper into the room and allow Hoseok entry.

“Come now Darling, don’t get your panties in a twist.” He chuckles, putting emphasis on the T. He saunters into the room calmly and closes the door softly behind him. As he walks he delicately shoves one hand into the pocket to his dress pants. For someone so keen on making sure you know how much your presence perturbs him, he sure cleans up nice for an evening dedicated to you. “I was ordered to fetch you. Seems like dinner is served and you’re the guest of honor or something.”

“Jimin said he was escorting me, so I’ll wait for him.” You cross your arms.

Shrugging, Hoseok places his other hand in the accompanying pocket. “Well, Jimin’s the one who forced me to come and get you. Jungkook and Taehyung have a bet that he dyed his hair yellow by accident and he’s too embarrassed to show his face.” He laughs a genuine laugh of amusement. You frown, growing annoyed at both Hoseok and Jimin. “Don’t worry Darling, Prince Charming will be there at some point.” He cocks his head to the side, holding out his hand. 

“I’m not your Darling.” You push past him, opening the door fiercely. Little do you know that Hoseok watches intently as your hips sway beneath your skirt. His curious eyes trail to the way your stockings have a dark stripe up the back of your leg, showing where the hem was sewn. 

“Fiery. I like that.” He whispers to himself, jumping into a slight jog to chase after you. “It’s rude to leave a gentleman standing alone __________.” He calls after you. “I don’t like being with you as much as you don’t like being with me. But, Jimin asked this of me. Nicely.”

You stop at the top of the stairs and turn to face him with a blaze to your stare. “I thought you said you were forced.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, fidgeting with his hands when he doesn’t know where to place them. He gulps, looking vulnerable. “I uh, fine. I volunteered.”

“Congratulations Hoseok, you’ve shocked me.”

He looks aware, exhaling sharply from his nose. “Jimin was otherwise preoccupied so I said I’d come get you. I felt that I needed to.”

Your hands find your hips, and you sigh. “I think you need to get your priorities straight. Fix things with Jimin. I’m no happier than you are that I’m here. But ask this of yourself Hoseok: What did I ever do to you?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugs, “It's not your fault you're here. Jimin’s reckless; by now I’m sure you know that.” He rubs the back of his neck, feeling small. “My behavior stems from years of living like this. I didn't mean to take it out on you. Sorry, I guess.”

“You call that an apology? I guess I shouldn't be surprised if you have no sympathy in that thick skull of yours.” You brush back your hair, beginning to take a step down the large marble staircase, only for Hoseok to grab your wrist with force. You jolt backwards into his sinew.

“Haven't you realized by now that we’re different? I thought you were smart enough to realize that in the very least!” Hoseok releases your wrist before he descends the staircase, cutting you off and securing himself just a few steps below. “Good luck getting out of here alive, Darling.” 

#BTS #Bangtan #fanfiction #fic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #rm #jin #suga #j-hope #jimin #v #jungkook #Beautiful Demise #BD #J-hopeyouchokeme #Beautiful Demise ch. 3 #Ch. 3 #Chapter 3 #Park Jimin x Reader #Jimin x Reader #BTS x Reader

[aiimaginesbts]

What You Never Had: Chapter 12 (M)

Seokjin x Reader (ft. Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon)

Genres: Royalty AU, smut, angst

Word count: 5,542 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (M) | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (M) | 13 | 14 (Final)

A/N: Thanks Ann @godsavemefrombts for beta-ing this!

Disclaimer/Copyright

Thunk.

The dull sound of an arrow hitting the mark dissipated into the open air. What followed was a soft sigh of satisfaction from you, right before you reach for another arrow. The exhalation of breath next to you was quicker in speed, producing an entirely different sound; a hmph that was unsurprised with the tiniest bit of exasperation.

“Why are you, of all people, absurdly good at this?” Jimin asked, but you knew the question was rhetorical, so you answered with a smug smirk.

“You mean better than you?”

“Just shoot,” he grumbled in response to your taunt.

A giggle was hard enough to suppress, so you allowed the smug grin to remain in place as you nocked an arrow and readied yourself to do just what he’d asked you to do. Archery was a good workout after lunch, and you were glad that Jimin sought you out for this even though he ended up simply watching you do it, unwilling to be shown up by his little sister. You and Jimin had the sprawling field on the side of the castle all to yourselves, and the tranquility despite your current activity was wonderful. Hours passed in a blink of an eye, and the shadows of the trees had grown long, eclipsing the now cold tea that had been set on a table behind you.

In your opinion, the comfortable silence that you shared with Jimin was a mark of how close you and your brother were. The quietude was only occasionally punctured by expressions of your feelings, like the snort of derision from you when Jimin finally took up his bow, only to miss the center by less than two inches, and the softer chirping of birds returning to their nests, overlaying the subtler rustle of the leaves in the gentle wind.

“I should have known that the Princess’ talents are not only limited to extensive knowledge and thinking abilities.”

You had just let loose another arrow, which was fortunate, as the unexpected comment caused you to jump in surprise. Turning around, you saw Prince Taehyung smiling genially in the shade provided by the leafy branches. On the other hand, you, bathed under the light of the late afternoon sun, felt blood rise to your cheeks, and immediately blamed it on the non-existing heat. Jimin was the one with a smirk on his face now, as he asked the other prince, “care to pit your skills against her?” The younger prince’s intentions were obvious, and it took all you had not to roll your eyes. Your superior skills at archery has always been a bit of a tender spot for Jimin, and he took pleasure in throwing unsuspecting opponents at you when he could — which wasn’t often — so he could watch other men fail where he did. However, you didn’t think that showing up the visiting Crown Prince was a very good idea.

Thankfully, before Prince Taehyung could either answer or reject the challenge, another prince joined your ranks. The look on Namjoon’s face was ominous; a clear sign of impending bad news, and all in attendance steeled themselves for it almost visibly. Once within range for him to talk comfortably, he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “A messenger has just come with new information. Although the exact location is still unknown, several trusted sources have confirmed that the pirates have a hideout in Zinnis.” With a swift glance at you, he continued, “as the Princess suggested, this may very well be the place where they are keeping the people they have kidnapped before transporting them to their final destination. I have also received word that the next shipment is intended to happen before the end of the month, so it is imperative that we prepare to leave immediately.”

Efforts to unearth a possible location had been underway for a while now, so you shouldn’t have been surprised about this sudden turn of events, but you were rendered speechless for a few moments regardless. Any cheerfulness that had been present had disappeared; all three princes made to move indoors immediately, and that was when you found your tongue again.

“Wait!”

The men did as they were bid, turning back to regard you with mild curiosity. You started to bite your lower lip, then stopped yourself. This was no time for second thoughts or doubts.

“Take me with you.”

— • —

The King stared at you in silence, as if watching for a sign of weakness. In the spacious room that threatened to suffocate you with the cold looks you were receiving, you were in very short supply of allies. Even Jin, who had been summoned due to the direct impact the upcoming decision could have on him, was livid. He hid it well from everyone else, of course, but not you. Never you. It left a sour taste in your mouth, yet you refused to back down. You’d watched the backs of your brothers as they headed into unknown danger too many times. This time you had a direct stake in the matter, too. There was no way they could take this away from you, to leave you behind to worry about their safety and the success of their mission far away in another country. For the first time, you were going to join them, and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your brothers had made their disapproval quite clear the minute you had an audience with the King, but their arguments hadn’t elicited any reaction from him. His impassive, calm mask was a sign of hope for you. Then he turned to Prince Taehyung, assessing the young heir as he asked for the Crown Prince’s assessment of you. “What do you think, Prince Taehyung? You will be the face of the operation. Should anything go wrong, most of the burden will fall on you.”

A flare of hope lighted within you. However, at the same time, you couldn’t help but shrink just a little with fear and anticipation. If Prince Taehyung also objected to your joining them into Zinnis, it would be hard to argue your case. Still, while your brothers had attempted to shut down your suggestion upon hearing it at the field earlier, Prince Taehyung had reserved his judgement. Perhaps that was a good sign for you. Yet you were afraid to look at him, not wanting to face the rejection that might be housed in his eyes.

“I am of the opinion that it is fine for her to join us,” he began, immediately making your heart soar and your feet itch to jump off the ground with elation. “From what I have observed, the Princess is smart and highly capable. Her ability to acutely analyse a situation and accurately predict others’ strategies could be very valuable. I have very recently been made aware of her other skills too. If care is taken to ensure her safety, I think her presence nearby would be a boon for us.”

Prince Taehyung’s glowing praise of you was very flattering. Normally it would have made you feel incredibly shy and self-conscious, but this time it was highly appreciated. “You certainly have had a hand in this, as we all do,” the King said to you slowly, as though deliberating his words as they made their way out of his mouth and weighing them carefully on his tongue beforehand. “Very well. As long as proper preparations are made and you stay out of harm’s way, I will allow this.”

— • —

It was next to impossible to contain your excitement at the King’s agreement, and you were relieved when the discussions for your participation was over. A beaming smile was all that you could allow yourself in front of your father, but now that you were alone with Ji Eun, free to express your jubilation as you pleased, you found yourself growing sober as other thoughts started to consume you.

Yes, you were nervous about the expedition, but more than that, you were worried about the way Jin received the decision. When you first caught sight of Jin’s face after the King gave you his consent, the Royal Guard’s face had visibly darkened. Enough for anyone to notice, in your opinion. Luckily, no one seemed to realise the change in him, and not a comment was made to address it.

Jin’s obvious disapproval certainly dampened your spirits somewhat. It was understandable — you were sure his reasons were similar to your brothers’ — but you wanted to hear it from him. More importantly, you wanted him to listen to your own reasoning. However, the group is scheduled to embark in the morning, and you doubted that you would get a moment alone with him afterwards. Tonight was the only chance you had to talk to him. To make him understand why you had to go despite his concern about you.

As expected, Ji Eun was less than enthused about the idea of you sneaking out on another night trip to see Jin. Her protests fell on deaf ears again and she could only heave an unconcealed sigh as you prepared to leave when the night had grown late enough. Although it was past the time most of the inhabitants would usually have winded down for the day, you expected that the castle would be different this night. After the information about the pirates’ hideout’s whereabouts suddenly coming to light only that afternoon and the Princes’ swift decision to start the journey to Zinnis the very next day, there was bound to be people going about, rushing to prepare for it. You decided that it would be safer for you to borrow your lady-in-waiting’s clothes again and attempt to blend in.

It was a wise decision, you decided as you made your way along the long corridors towards Jin’s room. There was certainly more activity than usual at this hour, and you were seen more times than you would have liked, despite trying to avoid as many encounters as possible. In this situation, you decided that acting like one of them would serve as a better camouflage than trying to furtively avoid detection, and it worked. No one gave you so much as a second glance, the lack of sunlight working in your favour, coupled with the focus with which everyone was determined to finish their tasks. You were just another person trying to get her job done.

The riskiest part, you supposed, was entering and leaving Jin’s room. You weren’t sure if there was any reason a servant would knock on his door, especially since Jin was definitely the type to get things done himself. Trying your best not to look suspicious, you knocked on his door. The speed with which he opened it, and granted you entry despite the frown that marred his handsome face told you that he was expecting your visit.

His desk sat where you’d seen it before, but there was only one chair, and you didn’t want the conversation to be formal. You just wanted a conversation with one of the people you cared about most in the world. To calm his anger. To soothe the pain you suspected you’d inflicted upon him by potentially putting yourself in danger. To make him see the importance of this to you. So you took a seat at the foot of his bed. He remained standing, clearly not inclined to join you. Still, he moved to stand next to you, and it gave you the courage to let him hear what you needed to say. “Are you upset that I asked to go?”

“Of course I am,” he answered in a low voice. It trembled at the end, a sign of the level of his anger, and how he was trying his best to control it. Giving you a chance to explain. “What were you thinking?”

“Earlier, I said that it was because I had a hand in this,” you began with the reasoning you’d given the King and the Princes in the afternoon. “And it is true. I may have not contributed as much as the others, but I am just as invested in this. Even if it was by pure coincidence, all this would not have happened if not for me, and I think I have the right to follow this through just as much as anyone else. I want to be there to help catch those criminals. I can’t sit here waiting for others to finish this for me. But that’s not the only reason.”

Taking a breath, you glanced up to see Jin’s reaction. It was mostly impassive, unimpressed by the arguments he’d already heard before. He didn’t seem inclined to offer an opinion, so you continued with the bulk of your argument. “For so many years, I have said goodbye to my brothers while they go off to protect the people of this country. Our people. As a Princess, I want to do right by them too. It is my responsibility. But it hurts even more that I can only wait here while my brothers risk their lives. Each time wondering if they would return unharmed. Hoping that they would come back at all.” A sob, unbidden, lodged itself in your throat and you had to stop lest you choke on it. Your center of gravity shifted ever so slightly as you felt the mattress sink under Jin’s weight when he sat on it, but you were no longer gauging his reaction. The thoughts that you’d always kept to yourself, that you’d thought you had accepted, were thorny against your throat and bitter on your tongue. You didn’t think it would be this hard to voice them out, yet they still came forth, to the only person you trusted with your innermost thoughts and desires. Even then, it wasn’t easy. Not when you started to imagine everything that could go wrong. “A—and this time, you are going too. Into a country that is hostile towards us. To find and capture dangerous criminals. What if one of you— you—”

At this point, you couldn’t go on. Saying it was like a jinx, like an evil spell that would be set off upon being uttered. Just thinking about it brought hot tears to your eyes. It was highly irregular, and completely irrational, but you couldn’t help it. Even having the Princes ride off to defend the border had you worried sick each time. How could you not break down at the idea of three men that you loved diving deep into enemy territory? Without a word, Jin slid his arms around you, helping still your violently shaking body, and for a while only your racking sobs filled the room. He waited patiently for you to calm down somewhat, then said kindly, “you just have to trust in us. Believe that we will accomplish what we set out to do and come back to you safely.”

Jin was right. And you did. You believed in them, but after your brush with people who were capable of such horrific things, you couldn’t let them go without you. You couldn’t put your trust in fate. The only way you could try to alleviate your worries, even by the tiniest bit, was to go with them. “ I do. I believe in your capabilities, but anything can happen. To watch you go, to be completely helpless again, to just wait for news, not knowing when it will come, if it will be good or bad— that is pure torture for me. I have no idea how much help I will be, but I have to try my best. Not to be a hindrance, but to do my part, to protect you however I can. Don’t you trust me?”

Having the request turned back towards him rendered Jin speechless for a moment. You gave him the time to ponder, knowing what he must be feeling. Jin was a knight, a protector, your Royal Guard. And he was a man. As gentlemanly as he was, or perhaps because he was a gentleman — it had to be difficult for him to swallow down his pride and sense of responsibility towards you as his charge, as a woman, as the person he loved and allow you to protect him in return. To put you in potential danger, even if it meant reducing the risks on himself, was probably not something he would choose, if given the choice. Yet he knew that was what you wanted. You had made that abundantly clear. And he knew you could do it. Laying a gentle hand upon his chest, you looked up at him, appealing with your eyes. A tender moment of love, an exchange of trust in each other. You believed in him, and you desired the same from him. Faith in you that was strong enough to suppress his sense of honour and ego.

In the end, he sighed, and you knew that he had relented. “Why did I have to fall in love with someone so stubborn and persuasive?” The rhetorical question hung in the air, but it made you smile along with him.

“I’m glad that you did regardless,” you told him gratefully. “Because it would be awful if my love isn’t reciprocated.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” he said, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair. “Because those are just some of the many reasons I love you, crazy as it seems.”

Without your noticing, the mood had changed. Only when Jin wiped your cheeks with his thumb did you realise that the fingers of his other hand were now tangled in your hair instead of brushing it, your sobs had subsided and your breathing had slowed. The moment you were aware of it, your pulse quickened and your lungs worked the air speedily again, but this time for a completely different reason. Suddenly the proximity between you and Jin was making you hot, awakening a desire that wasn’t even in your mind moments earlier. You reached up to cup his strong jaw, acting on your wishes, and from the way his fingers tightened around the strands of your hair, you could tell that he was responding. His brown eyes were large at this distance, pure and glimmering from the low light of the room, but his lips were more attractive to you at the moment. Just plump enough, the colour making you think about just how soft they were, and how much you wanted to press your own against them. You caved in to your whims. Jin’s muffled moan sang in your ears, pulling at your own strings, inspiring more.

So you tilted your head just a little to the side, deepening the kiss. Without hesitation, your tongue stroked his bottom lip, prompting it to fall, exposing the inside of his mouth to the caress of your little pink muscle. You let out shameless moans of your own, tugging him away from his frustrations at you earlier, dragging him down with you into the bottomless pit of desire. He went willingly, oh-so easily, that you would have felt a sense of petty victory if you weren’t too absorbed in him. However, when he leaned forward, making to lower you down on the bed, you resisted, moving in the opposite direction to push him down instead. You could feel his body freeze in surprise only for a fraction of a second before giving in, compliant as long as you didn’t break the kiss. And you didn’t, even when the mattress emitted a small puff as both of you collapsed on top of it.

Despite being on top of him, you couldn’t help but notice how much larger Jin was. It didn’t make you feel that much in control — it only served to emphasise how his dark locks, mussed against the white sheets, beautifully framed his face, the expanse of his shoulders, the hard muscles underneath you, pressed against the soft bedding. He seemed wide and endless and ethereal, like the sea on a particularly gorgeous day, and you were drowning in him. After hours passing into days being swallowed into weeks of having to hide your feelings for him, being able to have him to yourself like this was overwhelming. The dam you had built to hold your emotions in check had broken, perhaps by the tears you’d shed earlier, and now you couldn’t stop your love for him from pouring forth. You didn’t try to hide it, confessing to him between kisses, between the shuffle of undressing, of indulging in each other to the fullest.

Even with little experience, you wanted to make Jin feel as good as he made you feel that first night you had together. Shyness sent blood rushing to your cheeks, but you still looked down at him. He wasn’t as big as you remembered, but everything about him was just as impressive as you knew he was. Hands shaking, you reached down to grasp his member. All the while he kept silent, curiously watching, but when you dragged your hand down, he let out a soft hiss that made you halt immediately. “D—did I do something wrong?” You asked in a panic, heart dropping to your stomach at the thought of failing to pleasure him.

“No, it just hurts a little when it’s dry,” he answered with a smile, but it looked like a grimace to you. At first you were stumped, a little discouraged and clueless as to what you could do, then an idea occurred to you. You released him, only to pin him down with your pussy. Sitting astride him, you moved back and forth, rubbing your own juices to wet his cock. The further growth of his already rigid cock was subtle, but his groan told you that it was certainly not a mistake. Hardly any effort was needed to make you wet; Jin could melt you without even trying, and in no time your essence had leaked all over his member. Still, when you lifted yourself up on your knees, the sight of his glistening cock wasn’t enough to chase away the anxiousness within. To be safe, you reached down, unintentionally inhaling sharply when you made contact with your aching center. Even though you knew the effects of your arousal, touching it yourself was another matter entirely. Perhaps the memories of Jin stroking it had faded somewhat, or simply just your depraved pussy craving for intimate contact, but your body trembled with only a touch against the source of flooding wetness. You didn’t want to stop, if only for a little while. Sliding your fingers back and forth against your slit felt amazing, that even after they were completely soaked, you kept on going.

However, you weren’t the only one enjoying the act. You could have sworn that Jin’s groan sounded like a whine, finally tearing your attention away from yourself to look up at him. His eyes had turned onyx, his head raised to watch the show, but he unwittingly reminded you of the reason you’d started touching yourself in the first place. Falling back onto his muscular thighs, you wrapped your moistened hand around his cock. Hesitantly, very lightly, you brought your hand down from the bottom of his head to the base, watching him for any signs of discomfort. He held your gaze, encouraging the intimacy, yet keeping you from feeling embarrassed. No words were necessary, and you gradually regained your confidence, the speed with which your fist moved up and down his length increasing with it. Before long, drops of liquid escaped the tip, helping you continue, spurred on by the deep moans Jin was making. You felt powerful, in control of his pleasure, but helpless over your own. The sight before you was making you want him more than ever, your needy whines barely held in check as your center wept for what was in your hand.

When you started, your goal was to bring him to his peak, like he did to you before, and further still. A sense of accomplishment filled you as you gauged that you’d brought him close to the precipice. Of course, Jin was well aware of it too, and wasn’t about to allow you to bring it to the finish. Without warning, he pulled you off of him, and in the next second he had lifted you and turned you around, literally flipping things over. You lost control to him in one second, and now it was your turn to be stared at. A shy, needy sound finally fell out of your mouth as his eyes zoned in on your flooded center, but before you could close your legs off to him, he climbed off the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he tugged you forward by the legs, bringing you to the edge of the bed so he could bury his face between your legs.

“Jin!!” You called out his name in surprise as a jolt of pleasure hit you. It didn’t occur to you that anything other than his cock could rival the sinful pleasures his fingers wrought on you, but his mouth and tongue were proving you wrong. Your mind went blank almost immediately, shutting down as blood rushed over to the point where the love of your life was making contact with you. His tongue, which had danced with yours in your mouth, was now masterfully making its rounds between your folds. He lapped up your juices gleefully yet you could feel an endless stream gushing out, threatening to drown him. Still he drank from you like a fountain of the most delectable nectar, his arms pinning you down by the thighs as your body arched and shook from the overwhelming sensations. By the time you noticed that he was looking up at you as he licked your pussy, you had lost all sense of shame, and seeing him watch you intently as you cried out and bucked uncontrollably between your heaving breasts only served to rile you up even more. As if that wasn’t enough, with a smirk he shifted to suck the small nub atop your slit into his mouth. Your call for him became even louder than before, your body tightening impossibly in the blink of an eye. He released your clit to allow his tongue to flick it, then moved to suck it again, and if you were still able to think, you would guess that this was a sinful pattern that he’d planned. If it was, he didn’t have time to tend to it for long, because the second time your clit was caught between his lips, he managed to suck everything out of you. Without thinking, you grabbed handfuls of his soft hair, pulling him towards you as your hips lifted up to try to get even closer to him. His response was to inhale your sensitive little knob even deeper, his moans vibrating against it to draw out your orgasm.

By the time you could start to make sense of the world again, your vision was blurry with tears and you had to gently pry Jin away from your throbbing clit. Seeing the lower half of his stunning face glistening with your juices fanned your arousal once more and set your core in flames. As always, Jin’s ability to know what you needed was uncanny, and his haste in fulfilling it was nothing short of amazing. You didn’t even have to tell him anything, and neither did he; the only verbal exchange you had was in the form of a gasp followed by a satisfied moan after he lifted your legs up in the air and sank himself within you. Every inch of him being swallowed by you gave you indescribable pleasure, yet the more complete he made you, the more insatiable your desire became. Using your legs as leverage, he began his quest of wrecking you, while your death grip on the sheets beneath you became your anchor, your feeble resistance against your descent into madness.

There was no way you could ever get used to this. He stretched you impossibly, only to retract to his very tip, leaving you hollow, but before you could beg for more, he’d fill you to the brim again, and your pleas would turn into wanton cries of ecstasy. Underneath loud moans that filled the room, you could hear the headboard hit the wall with his every thrust, yet Jin couldn’t be satiated. Bending down, he slid an arm under your back, scooping you up. With your stiff nipples brushing against his chest and each thrust hitting you harder and deeper as he bounced you on his cock, your whines grew louder. Jin paid it no heed, or it actually spurred him on, relishing your nails sinking into his back; as a measure to withstand your wet heat slamming down his member or to hold on to him as he carried you further up the bed, neither of you knew nor cared.

It was after he lowered you again and bent your legs to your chest that his assault began in earnest. Each thrust was akin to a vicious hammer delivering the last blow of a huge nail in, and you were barely able to wonder if he’d held himself in your first time in an effort to be as gentle as he could, before he easily knocked any coherent thought out of your mind. Your moans gave in to deep groans as you took each thrust eagerly, peppered by desperate gasps that devolved into shrill mewls when his wicked thumb found your clit once again. Your whole body grew taut, so stiff that the friction inside you became more pronounced, every spot scraping against his length sending bolts of lightning throughout every inch of your being. You were so close, and it seemed that Jin wasn’t so far off himself.

Lowering himself down on his elbows, his hands assumed their previous position from earlier that night; one cradling the side of your face while the other wove into your hair. You were rendered helpless, his body pinning you down, his harsh thrusts ramming you into the mattress, his rough kisses eating up any sound you made. Even your screams were muffled as you surrendered to his silent command to cum, your inner muscles spasming around him, hot tears running down your cheeks, your mind going blank at the sheer rapture. Your pussy clenched and released him involuntarily, repeatedly, instinct wanting to squeeze him of all that he had, and he pounded his last few thrusts into you, pushing himself in so far that the sensation it brought you bordered on pain before pulling out with a sharp yell that cooled into low growls as he bathed your body with his cum.

It felt strangely empty without having Jin within you, but he made up for it after cleaning you up by gathering you into his arms and kissing your wet cheeks. For a while you laid together, blissful and at ease with the world, enjoying his beauty as he tenderly stroked his thumb back and forth across your slightly swollen lower lip, watching you lovingly. You had an inkling that it had grown late by your growing drowsiness, but before you could fall into sleep’s embrace, Jin planted a quick kiss against your lips. “Loath as I am to say it, you should return to your room for some proper rest. Tomorrow will be the start of a long journey and who knows when a decent night of sleep will be possible again.”

You wanted to pout and protest, but he was right. With a heavy heart and heavier movements, you climbed off the bed. After the rough way Jin took you, it wasn’t surprising that your legs were still shaky, and you were thankful that he slipped out of the sheets with you to help pick up the clothes that you’d discarded in heat earlier. Even though it wasn’t smoothly done as Jin, like most men, didn’t know his way around women’s clothes very well, having him redress you felt intimate, and again you swelled with adoration for him. It was hard to let him go, but you finally did so after going in for as many kisses as you could. The door closed on his smile, and you readied yourself for the walk towards your own chambers, surely to be long in the state you were in. Little did you know that in the next moment, you would come to wish that weak legs was all you had to be worried about.

“Y/n?!”

The blood that was boiling with lust when you were with Jin now froze in your veins at the all-too-familiar voice calling your name. It was unfortunate that your body, while drained of energy, didn’t remain still. Reflexively you looked up, immediately regretting it when you made eye contact with the caller. Even in the dark of the night, the light of candles spilling in the hallway told you who it was, and at the same time, made it impossible for you to hide your now exposed face from him. For he knew exactly who you were with one glance.

It was Jimin.

#bts smut #seokjin smut #btssunshinenet #bts writing squad #armiesnet #hyunglinenetwork #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #noonanet #jin angst #jin scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jimin scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts scenarios

[gimmesumsuga]

You mess me up with STS every time. I remember I found STS when looking for smut. So I guess you could say; Came for the Smut stayed for the amazing writing by an amazing writer 💜💜💜😆 Honestly can’t wait for the next chapter!

Aww that’s so lovely!  I’ve got to be honest, I occasionally get a little bit of a complex about STS in that I worry that literally the only reason it’s done well is because it’s trash lol That people aren’t actually bothered about the plot, and that the writing isn’t that good, and it’s just the sex and that’s it.  

They’re only fleeting thoughts, but they do pop up pretty frequently.  I mean I’m sure that’s what it is for some people, and that’s ok,  I just hope it isn’t for everyone! Idk lol :/

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Anon: As for you answer on that one ask about which sex scenes people like most; My top 3 is Junkook, Namjoon and Taehyung, in that order 👀

You know I think because I was so worried about that Namjoon sex scene and writing it well, I didn’t enjoy doing it quite as much as some of the others, which is a shame!  Hopefully if I go back and read it again I’ll enjoy it more ^^

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@pidgejimin - Another chapter to make my heart cry, tbh when tae showed up and everyone else showed up I was crying in relief. Please keep working hard! Everything is worth it! Almost 70 chapters and I never want it to end, each one just makes the story come alive. Please eat well and sleep! Luv ya ♡

Aww thank you sweetie!  I’ll keep at it!  

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@softmochijm - hi love ♡ im just writing to give you a big THANK YOU for all of your works, especially STS. you're truly my fave author/writer & it brings me insane amounts of joy every time i see an update on ao3. honestly, STS has changed me as a person, as weird as it may sound, it actually gave me more confidence! & it's through your writing style that i just get so sucked in & so intrigued with every word.. it's a beautiful feeling. so once more, thank you! & take all the time you need for your updates :)

Oh gosh, you’re too kind ^^ honestly, messages like this make my day.  The thought that I could have such an impact on someone’s life is amazing!

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@mslonelynation - It pisses me off seeing people telling writers when to post things. It’s not like you can just magically pop out a chapter. It’s a process and it takes time. You have a life outside of writing and you deserve to take your time to produce quality material. I hope you are doing well! I’m sorry you have to deal with incompetent people haha 💜

Ah, it's all part and parcel of writing fanfic, I guess!  But thank you for being so kind and understanding sweetie :)

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Anon: I'm currently on chapter 60 of STS and OH MY GOD. I think I'm actually obsessed 😭 Your writing is actually bloody amazing (no pun intended 👀) But seriously, I can't get enough. But I also can't stress enough to not overwork yourself with it and take all the time you need, despite some anons demanding you do more and do it quicker. Great work is made with time 💜💜💜

Haha oh I enjoyed the pun whether it was intentional or not! Happy to know you like it so much, anonnie, and thank you

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Anon: Thank you for updating! It’s always worth the wait! Your writing is amazing I check ao3 constantly, I’m addicted! ❤️❤️

Thanks sweetie! 

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Anon: I’m so confused by that anons message because you do update fast? You update faster than most other doc writers i follow lol. Anyways you’re work is incredible and i really admire your dedication to this blog, keep on doing you!

Eh, I could be faster, but I do the best I can!  Thank you lovely, I will ^^ 

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Anon: I just read the most recent chapter of STS and wow that was intense!! I liked how you kind of avoided giving into our expectations of Jimin and Yoongi running in and saving the day. It was a nice twist. I'm curious though about the occurrence between Namjoon and OC. Does she realize she was sexually assaulted through deception? Do you think that will even be a thing in the story or just viewed as just her cheating on the other boys?? Thanks for writing the story, I can't wait for more

Hey hunny!  Intense is definitely one word for it!  I do my best to keep things as unpredictable as I possibly can - although that’s hard as I tend to be quite a predctable person by nature! lol 

I’ll be honest, until someone else mentioned this about a week ago I had never even heard of ‘rape by deception’, although now it’s been pointed out it does seem to fit the scenario awfully well.  Because I hadn’t thought about it before, I hadn’t really planned on having the reader see it as such and feel about it that way?  I think I might try and touch on it, at least, although I’m not entirely sure how as of yet.  Primarily, the majority of discussion is going to be revolving around the impact it had on her relationship with Jimin and Yoongi.

***

@jazrvr - When he told y/n that he loved her and meant it. It hit me in the feels, I wanted to hate him soo much for what he did. Then again I have a soft spot for joonie. Incredible chapter though ❤️

Thanks sweet, it made me feel very conflicted too to be honest! 

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@steponme-bts - Hey girl I just finished reading chapter 67 of STS AND I HAVE YO SAY I LOVE IT 💜 But the whole thing got me thinking 🤔 This is a weird question but how old is Jungkook (look wise because of course he's old af cause vampire) But what era did he stop growing ? Because even though STS is inspired by blood sweat and tears they had to be transformed before it right ? Anyways love you 💜 you nice keep going 😉 

Lol you smooth talker you, Jimin would be proud.  Jungkook was turned when he was 19 years old, so he appears now as he would’ve looked in the bs&t era (the boys aren’t really ‘BTS’ in this, so that era is just used an an example to help you imagine their appearances better)

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@pinkblue72 - Another great chapter! Thank you! I was honestly so scared for the outcome there at first

I keep telling you guys it’ll all be ok in the end :P lol but I’m glad you liked it ^^

[bandoms-are-fandoms]

Ghostwriter Chapter 4

 As much as I would have liked it too, my life did not slow down once I began work for BTS. Day in and day out, we are always on our feet; the boys practice every chance that they get and there is not a moment to even take a break, let alone write a single song. No wonder they went looking for help, every morning we get up before sunrise and every night we end up getting home after the vampires come out. I mean, geez! I thought to be an intern was hard, but I think I'd rather be unpaid and manual labor than do what they do every day.

The work isn't the problem though, every chance the boys got to spend time with me, they did so I could get a better idea of who they are as people. There have been plans canceled and even throwing me in some dressy clothes and making me tag along to big events like celebrity parties. Not that they wanted to go to those either. Suga's face told me that he hated how much a party would turn out to be, but after a party one night, the boys started drinking with me around and I did get out a few little secrets from them.

They each have a girlfriend although I have not met any of them yet. Some of them sound just terrifying though. Suga told me about his girlfriend who was also a Korean Popstar by the name of Mi-Ok, but her stage name was Sinbi which went with her Lolita style (apparently). The thing is that each guy described Mi-Ok as the type of girl who doesn't take very well to being told what to do and they say she is pretty scary with her popstar mask off (she has resting bitch face or so they say).

Jimin explained to me that his girlfriend was a Social Media Consultant and that I would meet her pretty soon. Her name was Mun-Hee and she was some kind of genius. She had finished all of her school by the time she was sixteen and was on the board of her father's company, Bumonim Eum-Ag. That's terrifying to think a girl, not much older than me might I add, sitting on a board and bossing people probably twice her age around.

Namjoon is dating an American girl by the name of Shayla and he explained to me that they had collaborated on a couple of songs before deciding to become a couple. He told me that she was a very relaxed person and went with the flow of the conversation, but that didn't mean she wasn't ready for a fight whenever the time came. He told me that she was having trouble back home with another producer and that I probably wouldn't meet her for a while. The look in his eye though, it held some much affection when he spoke about her.

Eun-Yeong was Jin's girlfriend and she is probably one of my all-time favorite models; he explained to me that she was always busy and he didn't get to see her as much as he wanted, but he was enduring for the time they could actually spend together. She's apparently a force of nature, a real advocate for what she wants and what she believes should be done for future generations of women. She has family troubles, but she pushes through and that's what he wants to convey to her in a song.

J-Hope is with a Latina girl by the name of Carina and he showed me a couple of dances they did together for Carina's dance studio. She was accepted into an academy here in Korea when she was younger and she built herself up from scratch to be able to be the best of the best. I smile as I would watch as I saw his face grow brighter and brighter with each move on the screen and I couldn't help, but notice everyone looked so proud to talk about their girlfriends.

V was dating this girl by the name of Maggie Cho and she was also American, she was their primary translator whenever they needed to travel and Namjoon wasn't around. She's apparently a very shy girl and that's why I haven't met her either. I get a strange feeling these boys are just trying to hide their girlfriends from me, but I don't quite understand why they would do that.

Jungkook is the only one who wasn't really looking for a relationship right now and that is what is going to make writing the hardest on me. Sure, I can take the words that each one has told me about what they've endured with their girlfriends, but it won't be the same as them actually writing the song for them. Jungkook can't even tell me he wants the song to be like, he just said that I should think about how my body would "move for a guy." What do you do with that!?

I sigh to myself as I go over the day's events once more, looking at the notepad in my arms. I adjust my heels, trying to get inspiration from the simple white stilettos, but that pain was nothing about love or body. In fact, even wearing heels is like hating your body, but they're just so damn cute, I can't take it! Scribbling out the words of pain from my blisters, I sigh as I try to think of words to describe love, but what is love?

I've never been in love, only the idea of being in love. Groaning, I switch the notepad behind the tablet I was given that contains today's schedule. The boys were recording an interview and I was traveling with them as their Administrative Assistant to understand who they are as people to be able to write the songs they asked me. We've been up since like five in the morning and I'm already exhausted at ten thirty this morning. They all had to get ready and chastised me as I was getting ready in the car because I held them up, all in good fun though.

I watch them smoothly talk through the interviewer's questions, giving just enough to show who they are, but not enough to ruin the image they've spent on for the last five years. Before bed last night, I decided that I needed to get to know the fans and the boys better with my own research. Apparently, their fans are called ARMY and they have the strongest passion out of everyone for BTS to succeed.

I look down at the schedule in my hands again, noting that our day is packed until at least midnight, if not longer. Every day, these boys are working hard for their fans and for their dreams. It's hard to believe people so young have such an impact on other people's lives. Sighing to myself, I begin to doubt my talents once more.

I have no sense of rhythm and I can hardly rhyme, but when I write, it flows from my fingertips on to a page. Watching the boys clammer off stage in excitement, I place a smile on my face as I had each boy a bottle of water.

"Great job out there!" I praise them, looking at the schedule, "We'll get you guys some food while we wait for the car to come and get you. Apparently were filming something else today...?" I murmur, looking it over.

"It's an episode of Run BTS!" J-Hope informs me, quickly finishing his bottle of water. I look at him with a confused look, scrunching up my eyebrows, "You're really not involved in popular culture, are you?" He teases, grinning at me.

"...I can tell you about American tv shows, some Japanese shows, and Korean drama, but..." I sigh, rubbing my head, "I know absolutely nothing about music."

"I heard you singing in the bathroom this morning," Jungkook pipes up and I can't help, but laugh a little.

"An opening theme song..." I tell them sheepishly. Before our playful banter could continue, my attention was taken away by a tv manager.

"Ms. Tsukamu!" The manager calls, running over to me, "Sorry to bother you, but I need to discuss a few things with you..." The manager takes me away from the group, but I wish I wasn't doing this alone. My head can barely wrap around what has happened in the past week, let alone what I have to say to this manager.

After we finish up at the studio, we make our way to the next stop: filming for Run BTS apparently. Everything is going so smoothly, I figured that the day would end on a high note, but boy was I wrong. We spent hours watching the boys fight in a kimchi battle and eventually, the losers are supposed to clean up. Sadly, Jungkook, J-Hope, and Jimin are the losers and take three years to clean up. While we stand off to the side as these boys begin their punishment, Namjoon pulls me close to him so he can talk to me quietly.

"Have you started on a draft yet?" He asks me and my stomach literally drops to my ankles. At the anxious look on my face, he gives a small sigh, "We can't expect you to be on our level after just a couple of days of spending time with us, but you should have some sort of draft."

"We've just been so busy and I know that's not an excuse-" I began to explain to Namjoon, but he holds up his hand for me.

"I thought what we told you the other night would've helped." He sighs as the boys finish up cleaning.

"You ask me to write a love song based on your experiences," I try to explain to him the impossibility of it, but he just shakes his head at me. Quietly, the eight of us move into the van and head back to our home. Filming had taken all day, so we had to push most of today's events to tomorrow. I glance at the clock on my phone and sigh; eleven fifteen... Where has the day gone?

When we arrived home, everyone began to trudge their way back to the bedroom. Well, everyone except for me; as I watch them all go to their respective rooms, I sit down on the couch taking off my pain filled heels and I stare at the blank tv screen. After only a week of staying with them and I still am not up to par for any matter.

Begrudgingly, I walk into the bedroom I was sharing after making sure both boys were decent and awake so I can grab my pajamas. After grabbing the shorts and the t-shirt, I walk into the kitchen, pulling out one of the tiny cakes I had bought the other night. Moving to the kitchen table, I start to nibble on the sweet treat while staring at the notepad once again.

"Heartbreak..." I whisper to myself, "Enduring... First... Unrequited... Self... Body..." Sighing, I begin to write down whatever came to my mind, but I was a novice when it came to anything about love. I know family love, but I can't even explain all of that... I really am totally useless, aren't I?

Hours seem to tick by as I sit and stare at the scribbles and marks on the notepad, but nothing is coming to me. Usually, when I write, I just let my hand do all the work and let the words flow right out of me, but I just can't write anything that's worthy of being called a love song. How do you even write a song? How do you even write in general?

Frustrated, I throw the pencil down and lean back in the chair. For the first time in a week, I felt like crying again. I can't compete with a global sensation of a boy band; they would get better work from a slug than they would me. I've had script after script thrown back into my face because it wasn't "original enough" or "the characters didn't feel real." The best comment was when a teacher of mine looked over one of my writings for me and told me that I should, "look into a new career path" because I didn't have the talent. I should've just listened to her, but I continued pressing forward, hoping my dream could come true in South Korea. I should've just stayed in Japan and became a simple office work.

My prideful tear ducts refused to let loose even one tear, but I felt the turmoil of emotions turning into my stomach. Everything going on made me feel like I was going to throw up and I was just about to give up for the night when I felt something cold touch my forehead. Blinking my eyes open, I look to see a glass of water above me.

"You need a break," Jungkook informs me, setting the glass down and sitting across from me.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I put on my best smile, taking the glass gratefully as I sipped on it.

"I needed some water and noticed that you were still up," He shrugs his shoulders, drinking his own water.

"I didn't even hear you come in." I realize as I look at him in mild surprise.

"You looked like you were having a moment, so I thought I'd leave you alone for a bit." He chuckles, turning to look me in the eye. His gaze became serious as he steadily held my eyes with his own, "Are you alright?"

Trying to play it off, I smile at him and take a big gulp of water to will my emotions back into their container, "Never better!" I chirped quietly, maintaining the smile.

"You can't bullshit me, you know?" He leans back, crossing his arms. I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, why would you say that?"

"Because you're not okay and you're not fine," He huffs, "You've had the same fake smile on your face since we left the studio. You wanna tell me what's going one?"

For a moment, I felt my smile waver and I was about to spill my guts, but I just can't do it. Feeling overwhelmed by my emotions, I just shrug my shoulders at him, "I'm a little homesick, I guess."

He gives me a look that tells me he's not buying what I'm saying, but I still can't bring myself to saying anything. Quickly, I stand up, making the chair squeal underneath my weight. Giving an awkward cough, I head towards our shared room.

"You can't keep lying. You wear your heart too much on your sleeve," He whispers, but the quiet room allows it to catch my ears. I turn to him and give him one more smile that I could muster up.

"Just because I don't say anything in confirmation, doesn't mean that I'm okay," I mumble to him, "Are you going back to bed?" He shakes his head and I nod mine in return. Quietly, I crawl into bed next to Chi-Chi and fall into a deep, restless sleep.

The next day, we all scramble out of the room and head back to Big Hit Entertainment to discuss the day's plans. The boys haven't eaten, so when we arrive, I retrieve a tray of food that was prepared for them and it was set out in front of all seven boys and all four managers. Just as I was about to leave, Jungkook grabs my arm.

"I have something I want to talk about," He sighs loud enough to catch everyone's attention. He releases my arm and clears his throat awkwardly, "I think, because she's so inexperienced, that Sakka has hit and writer's block."

"Jungkook." I hiss at him a warning tone, but he ignores me flat out.

"So, I want to work with her," He says, cooly. The words that leave his mouth are so nonchalant, I don't think they processed in everyone's minds until a moment later. Nobody made a sudden move and I couldn't help shouting out my response.

"What did you say!?"

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I don’t own BTS, but I do own Sakka and her companions. This is loosely like Voltage’s Scandal in the Spotlight and anything associated with that I do not own

#bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenarios #bts #bts imagines #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts jin #bts rm #bts suga #bts v #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkookie #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook imagines #namjoon #jin #jimin #taehyung #yoongi #hoseok #seokjin