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allhobbitstoisengard · 23 days

Text

*nervous sweating*

Connotations Of Sin - JHS x Reader || Teaser ||

Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.

Genre: Fallen Angel au | Angst, fluff, smut, horror ( V Lowkey, i swear)

Warnings: None for the teaser besides a little intimidation :) Full fic warnings will be on the official post ^^

Notes: I accidentally posted this last month LMAO (I cried) Thankfully I think only like one person saw it. Okay!! hi, hello, welcome! This is what i dropped off the grid to write hehe, it's a labor of love....or something. This bad boi here gets very dark, but, I will warn accordingly on the official post ^^. This fic is also in collaboration with the loml @hwaslayer !! Her new Seonghwa series takes place within this universe and I'm so so so happy to have been part of the project! (We've been slaving for months lmao) Please look out for the drop of her series (It lands in June) and be excited because she has so much planned! Tags are open for this fic if you'd like to be notified!

TBP : 19.05.24

You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.

Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.

You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.

“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?

Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.

It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.

You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.

As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.

Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”

“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.

“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.

“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.

Tagging: @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eren-fall @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @eoieopda @mssukeyna @euphoricfilter

#persphonesorchid #fic: Connotations Of Sin #jhope #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #bts jhope #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #I AM SO EXCITED #???#FALLEN ANGEL HOSEOK???#I LOVE DARK HOBI #OSNDHWJANSWJIWODHSKWLBZHDIWN

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allhobbitstoisengard · 3 months

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Mark Of The Arcane || Chapter Four ||

↣ Summary; Centuries before, in the times of the ancient Kings, a prophecy was heard. When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruins, their saviour would come in blinding starlight. Who is this saviour, you may ask? None other than Min Yoongi, who was too busy being late to work to realize he definitely wasn’t on earth anymore.

↣ Part: Chapter Four; Lessons in History

↣Word count: 6.8k

↣Warnings: Yoongi and his anxiety, Seokjin is a little prickly.

Chapter Archive | Masterlist

Notes: Hello all! Welcome back to MOTA! I'm so sorry about the wait, writing this fic is a lot lol. There's so much to describe and so much to get done. From here on out the chapters will be much longer than the previous ones, as I don't want the series to drag out too much and it's not meant to be a long series anyway. So I'll try my best to get as much into a chapter before moving on. Things are s little slow right now, but i promise the exciting stuff will start soon! I really hope you all enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated and encouraged! Let me know what you think!

Yoongi follows behind Seokjin, gazing around at the difference of the hallway as he does. Earlier, the opposite side of the wall mirrored the side he came out of; a line of mahogany doors as far as he could see.

Now where the doors were, are windows in intervals. Tall arched panes of glass stained blue at the tops, and through them he could just make out the edge of a town far away and below. It’s mostly forest he could see, the tops of tall green trees and birds with strange long tails darting about to settle as the sun drags the moon into the sky.

The walls are greystone, and within the spaces between each window held a navy blue banner that comes halfway down the wall. The crest at the center is intricate; a mix of a lighter blue and gold, a golden sword spears downward into a crown near the hilt of the blade. Just below the crown is what Yoongi would describe as a fancy snowflake, surrounded by little wisps of small golden patterns, and wings sprouting at the sword's end. It’s all surrounded by blue and golden leaves that follow the upward arch of the wings.

It’s an enlarged version of the crested clasp of his cloak.

He hadn’t realized he stopped to stare at it until Seokjin whistled at him from further up the hallway. He jogs a little to meet him.

“They’re designed to confuse.” Seokjin says as Yoongi falls in step with him.

“Huh?”

“The hallway was different when you first came out, right?” Seokjin glances at him and then waves a hand at the wall. “They’re imbued with magic. A precaution His Majesty took years ago in case of a siege from outside forces. You’re not a threat, so it looks as normal as it does to everyone else.”

Yoongi isn’t sure if that’s an insult or not, being called non threatening. To Seokjin though, he’s certain he looks like a newborn foal trying to take his first steps into a world he doesn’t understand. So, he supposes it’s not an incorrect word choice.

Seokjin leads him through a door, and down another hallway. Unlike the hallway before, this one was teeming with people.

It’s mostly women, bustling around, some carrying what Yoongi assumes to be cleaning supplies, others pushing little carts with silver trays and platters. Most of them barely pay him mind, but stop briefly to incline their heads at Seokjin. They’re all wearing white and something blue: one girl that looked like she should be sitting in a classroom wizzes by, a navy blue ribbon tied into her frizzy hair; another with a blue armband calling after her.

The chatter of that hallway fades once it’s behind another closed door, and Yoongi follows Seokjin down a flight of spiral stairs.

“I’m taking you to Hoseok, do try to remember the way. I won’t be around to show you every time.” Seokjin’s words are a little clipped and Yoongi gets the feeling he doesn’t like him very much. He doesn’t want to be here anyway, much less be up in anyone’s hair causing issues.

He’s not too certain what Seokjin is, and finds himself staring at his ears rather than actually memorizing directions. He asked if he was an elf and he was offended, he’s not sure what else he’s supposed to think.

Seokjin stops at a door and knocks twice before pushing it open. The first thing Yoongi notices is how clean it smells. It burns his nose a little as he walks in, looking around at what clearly is a medical room.

There’s two shelves against the wall, one filled with thick tomes, and the other stacked with bottled things. Off to the left is a curtained area, and on the wall, charts of anatomy and other things that Yoongi couldn’t make sense of.

There’s another door on the far right of the room, closed with a little plaque that says ‘Private’ in small bold letters. Tucked near the wall is a desk, more books arranged neatly in a pile, papers under a bottle of something or the other to keep them there.

The door opens and Hoseok steps through it, still wearing his white coat and startled seeing Yoongi and Seokjin there.

“Oh – you guys scared me.” He presses a hand to his chest, “Jin, you haven’t seen Yoselin, have you? I’m afraid I may have upset her...”

“She’s still trying to get you to mentor her?”

Hoseok sighs, “She doesn’t have the affinity for it, but she’s stubborn. And with her sister being one of my students it’s made her feel left out.”

“She’ll come to... I’ve brought him for you.” He gestures to Yoongi, and turns on his heel to leave, “Oh, show him the way back please, I’ve got other things to get done before late.”

Hoseok waves him off with a hand and then he was gone.

“You don’t look so out of place anymore,” Hoseok smiles, “Take your cloak off and then you can get settled over there for me.”

Yoongi does as he’s told and takes his cloak off, shuffling over to the curtained area. He pulls the curtain back and there’s a bed that resembles a hospital bed where he came from. There’s hinges on the sides that make it so that the bed can be adjusted, and Yoongi sits on the end of it while Hoseok gathers some things from his desk.

He comes over not long after, holding a strange glass ball that glows a pale green. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright...” Yoongi mutters and Hoseok hums.

“Headache?”

“Gone.” Though, even as he says this, Yoongi could feel it at his temples, just not bad enough to be a bother.

“Stay very still.” Hoseok says, lifting his hand with the glass ball to Yoongi’s forehead, checks something, and then presses it against his chest. There’s a warm sort of feeling coming from it that he could feel even through his shirt. “Okay...”

Hoseok moves away briefly, walking back to his desk and sets the ball down. Yoongi watches in amazement as it floats a little above the surface of the table top. “Uh...what is that exactly?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s an essence meter. It measures your arcane magic intake levels.” He comes back over with a book, it’s thick and has little colorful page markers sticking out of the pages. “So far, you’re stable. But it can fluctuate as your body gets used to it, so if you feel sick you need to tell me.”

Yoongi nods, rubbing his hands along his thighs. He’s still so confused about everything, but he’s trying his best to take it as it comes and not dwell on it too much. Hoseok settles on a chair, sitting a little lower than Yoongi is, opening the book to a page and pulls a black feather quill out of an inside pocket of his coat.

“I’m going to ask you a few things, just procedure, don’t worry. Then you’re free to go.”

Hoseok asks him basic medical questions, and jots it all down in his book. It didn't take too long, and soon he was handing him a glass vial no longer than his index finger. The little things inside tink softly against the glass, they look like dried pieces of root, a reddish brown color.

“If you get any more headaches, you can put one of these in hot water. It’s what I gave you earlier.”

Yoongi grimaces at the memory, a phantom bitterness at the back of his throat. He nods, tucking the vial away into the pocket of his pants.

“Try to get as much rest as possible, too. Your body has to regulate your magic intake. You can come back every three days so I can see how it’s going.”

Hoseok ushers him to the door, patting his shoulder softly, “Oh, and don’t worry about Seokjin. He’ll warm up to you.” He opens the door and Yoongi almost walks right into another person.

The young man takes a stumbling step back as though Yoongi had bumped into him, and he almost reaches out to steady him. He does so himself, pressing a hand against the door frame and side steps so Yoongi could pass.

He looks a little sickly, dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days, and his cheeks blotchy. He offers Yoongi a kind smile regardless.

“Ah, Taehyung...I was just coming to get you. You don’t have to walk all the way here, you know.” Hoseok says, and as Yoongi steps out, Taehyung steps into the room and the door falls shut.

Yoongi thinks he could manage getting himself back to his room. He refastens the clasp of his cloak and retraces his steps. Back up the spiral staircase and into the hallway, luckily finding the right door, to the hallway filled with people still bustling around, Yoongi can only assume that they’re the servants of this place. As much as that thought throws him for a loop, these people look happy as they move about doing their tasks.

While no one had spared him a glance when he walked through here earlier with Seokjin, everyone he passes by pauses minutely to stare. He keeps his head down and tries his best to make it through without being in anyone’s way.

Night had fully fallen, and the scones embedded into the walls had been lit, casting a warm glow along every surface.

“Your Highness, please. The King will have me hanging by my toes in the courtyard.” A short, plump woman steps out of a door, and Yoongi stops just before he could run into her. Her hair is dark, held tightly at the top of her head in the neatest bun Yoongi’s ever seen. There’s a small towel slung over her shoulder, another hanging from the pocket of her navy blue apron.

You’re trailing behind her, both your hands on her shoulders and a bright, broad smile on your face. You step with her, clinging to her back like a baby monkey.

“He’ll do no such thing.” You laugh, and you press a kiss to her rosy cheek, “Please, Esther. If you do this for me, I’ll love you forever.”

Esther swats at you with her towel, pursing her lips. “You say that every time you little Lumispore.” She says shaking her head before sighing resolutely when you bat your eyelashes at her, “Alright, alright. Now, go on, some of us have work to do.”

“Thank you! I’m forever in your debt, my lady.” You tug at the skirts of your silk dress and curtsy, laughing as you pull back when Esther swings her towel at you again.

Esther turns and Yoongi steps aside, but her dark eyes are pinned on him and she tuts, “You’re the new lad? Goodness, you're skin and bones!”

She squeezes gently at Yoongi’s arms and he feels heat rise to his cheeks, “I’ll tell Wooyoung to make sure you get hearty meals... put some meat on you.” She shakes her head, and pats his cheek softly, “Don’t worry child, you’re in good hands.”

She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes before she’s going up the hall, “Rina, you know very well where those go!”

“Sorry about her, she’s a mother hen.” You say softly, smiling, “I hope she didn’t offend you?”

“Oh, no. No, she’s fine.” He’ll probably admit it out loud later, but it’s nice to have someone worry about him. She reminds him of Mrs Li, waddling off and chatting with the younger servants.

“Did you visit Hoseok?” You’re walking in the direction he’s heading and Yoongi’s not sure if it’s okay to walk in step with you, so he walks a couple behind, but still close enough to hear you. “How is your magic intake?”

“Hoseok says that it’s stable for now...” He watches as you wave off everyone that stops to bow or curtsy. You’re quite quick on your feet, and Yoongi’s somewhat glad to see that you’re wearing shoes this time. Even with the amount of people walking about, he could feel a cold draft coming through the slightly cracked windows.

“That’s good, an overflow of magic can be dangerous.” You nod to yourself, reaching the door at the beginning of the hallway and pushing it open with a hand.

“Do you know a lot about it?”

“Magic? Or, do you mean healing?” You chuckle, holding the door open until he steps through. “Healing was part of my studies. As for magic, everyone knows a lot about it.” You shrug a shoulder, and then look behind you.

“Oh, you don’t have to walk so far behind me.” You stop walking and wait until Yoongi steps where you’ve stopped before you fall into step with him. “I’m not that kind of royal.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, don’t apologize.”

Yoongi’s back to thinking that maybe he really did get drugged and stepped into some sort of weird lucid dream. He’s never paid much mind to fairytales, or Princesses for that matter, but you’re surely acting like one. Though, he’s read stories where royals are absolute assholes, and he supposes he may have expected a bit of that. A holier than thou attitude.

Back where he comes from, he’s sure you’re the type of princess that ends up in a Disney movie; beautiful and empowering and encouraging young girls to be kind.

“Hobi said where you came from doesn’t have magic.” You say softly, turning your head to look at him, “What’s it like?”

“Well...” Yoongi wouldn’t say there isn’t any magic where he came from. People find magic in all sorts of things, like first snows or four leaf clovers. People find magic in other people, children find magic in Christmas. But this place is different, magic in a literal sense, and if he thinks about it too much he’ll have another headache. “It’s nothing like this.”

“Must be strange...being here, I mean.”

“You have no idea.”

You’ve led him back to the hallway where his room is, quiet for a moment. “Oh! Right. You’ll need to learn how to properly control your arcane and be able to use it.”

“Um...” Yoongi feels a dull twinge of pain where his arcane sits. He has no idea how he’ll start to understand how to do that.

“Don’t look so frightened.” You chuckle softly, “I’ll be teaching you. And we won’t start right away, your magic intake would be a little weird for a while so it’s safer for everyone that we don’t attempt anything.”

Yoongi only nods, standing now, a little awkwardly.

“Are you hungry? I can have dinner brought to you.” You ask softly. He isn’t , but he doesn’t want to be rude by declining.

“I’d invite you to the dining hall but I think that would be too much for you right now.” You say, “And my father is a bit...” You shake your head, smiling again, although it seems a bit tense, “Go in, I’ll be right back.”

You step past him, going down a different hall than the one you’d both come from and Yoongi steps back into his room. He takes his cloak off, hanging the thick material on a hook near the door with a sigh. His eyes land on the book he left on the nightstand, walking over to sit on the bed.

He’d have to resign himself to not getting home any time soon. It’s better if he accepts it and moves forward as nothing could be done at the moment. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, suddenly thrust into this world with a prophecy over his head. It’s almost too much.

Yoongi is accustomed to just billowing through life, trying to move with the world lest it move on without him. It was easy, growing up in an orphanage and struggling to get by with the little he had. He’s never blamed his parents – whoever they are – for giving him up, he was fine without a mother’s comfort and a father’s guidance. He didn’t have anyone to make proud or anyone’s shoes to fill. It makes sense now, somewhat.

He feels like a kid who’s dressed in his father’s clothes pretending to be a man. Like someone put a pair of shoes at his feet and told him to wear them even if they’re too big for him. The weight of this world feels heavy on his shoulders, as though he’s an ant trying to lift a building.

How is he supposed to go along and be this savior everyone expects him to be? He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be saving them from. Some form of darkness that hasn’t been seen in centuries?

Being sent here would be no problem without all this extra shit on top of it.

Yoongi presses his fingers against the spot on his ribs where his arcane mark sits. He’s never complained about his life being ordinary, completely okay with nothing exciting happening. So of course this happens.

He’s thinking too much.

Just as he lays back into the soft linen sheets, there’s a knock on his door. It opens just a bit and your head pops through the gap. Yoongi sits back up as you open the door wider and wheeled in a silver cart before you.

“Hoseok said it’s okay for you to eat something heavier now.” You say, pushing the door closed, “I didn’t know what you’d like so I brought a bit of everything.”

You push the cart over, there’s two covered silver trays and two tall glasses filled with what Yoongi hopes is just water.

You uncover the first tray and there’s a plate of steamed potatoes, braised beef and sautéed carrots and what he would call broccoli if the little tree type things weren’t purple. There’s a little bowl with a fluffy looking pastry with a dollop of pinkish cream in the dipped center, another bowl with short grain rice garnished with something red and flaky and a smaller plate with two filets of fried fish.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ate with you?” You ask, uncovering the other tray that had a spread that mirrors his own.

“I don’t...”

You smile, reaching down to the other compartment of the cart, handing him utensils wrapped in soft blue cloth. You move away for a bit, and stare at the table tucked against the wall in the corner of the room with a hand on your hip and then back at the cart. Catching your train of thought, Yoongi gets up and pushes the cart over.

“Oh! I would’ve done it.”

“It’s alright.” He could push a cart, darn it. He feels like he’s being coddled, by a Princess no less. He doesn’t need to feel like he can’t do anything on top of everything else. He sets the plates, bowls and glasses of water on the table and then moves the cart out of the way before going back across the room to grab the other chair that Hoseok had left near his bedside.

He waits until you’re sitting to do the same, but isn’t sure which side of his food to start from. He picks up the bowl of rice and starts there, the red flakes are spicy.

“Was the book any interesting?” You’re eating the pastry first, scooping out the cream at the center with a small spoon. You motion at the book on his nightstand with a tilt of your head.

The fish is well seasoned and quite distracting, and Yoongi nods, “It didn’t tell me much about anything really...just why my...arcane was created...”

You hum softly, “Well, records on your arcane have been lost for centuries, there isn’t much to know about it unfortunately.” You finish off the pastry, “And there isn’t anyone that could teach you how to properly use it, with it being a pure arcane.”

“Pure arcane?”

“There are no subfields.” You say, and when Yoongi gives you a confused tilt of his head you catch yourself. “Ah. Well...before everything was The Firsts. We’re not entirely sure where they originated from, but they were the first arcane users. Their arcanes were the elements, my ancestor Incra, was the first wind arcane user. While the other elements broke off into subfields, there are rare arcanes that only occur once.

My arcane is hereditary, it's never been bestowed to anyone outside the royal bloodline. Which in itself makes it pure, though, it’s easy for me since everything I need to know about it was recorded.”

“So...how am I supposed to learn how to use it?” Yoongi worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, food forgotten.

“Esther wields a fire arcane, it’s somewhat similar to yours even with how different they are. She’ll be helping me.”

“Right...”

He’s halfway through his steamed potatoes, and you eat quietly across from him. He pokes at the beef with his fork, setting aside the purple broccoli with a little frown. Who knows what that would do.

He supposes he’ll have to get used to this rich food. Not that he hasn’t had something of the like before, it’s just working as a barista isn’t all that freeing; splurging on fancy things like beef was a rare occurrence. That, and most of the money he had to spare went into his savings.

“Y/n...?” Yoongi calls with uncertainty, even though you told him to address you by name. You look up from your plate, humming in question, a brow raised slightly. “Can you tell me anything more about the prophecy?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m sorry. There’s only one record of it and not a lot of people have seen it. Some people don’t even know there is a prophecy.” You chuckle a bit and then grow somber, eyes looking a little sad, “I know this must be hard for you... You’ve been taken away from your life and suddenly everything’s being thrown at you.”

“It’s...” Yoongi sighs, leaning back into the chair, “I’ll manage.”

You stare at him for a moment more, clearly wanting to say something else before you shake your head. “You should eat that,” you point at his untouched pastry with the end of your fork, and Yoongi’s grateful for the change of subject. “It’s amazing. The cream is made from eclipse berries and Duiox milk.”

“What milk?” Yoongi eyes the pastry like it would grow a head and start doing the tango.

“Duiox...it’s like a cow...but they have tusks...you don’t have those?”

After dinner, you say goodbye at the door, pushing the cart back outside his room. You seem a little reluctant to leave as you step outside, fiddling with the silk sleeves of your dress.

“How about a tour tomorrow? If you’re feeling well enough?” You ask, settling the cart against the wall, but your hands never leave the handle.

“That’d be nice.” Yoongi offers a smile. That’d be great actually, it’d be better for him to learn his way around this place if he’s going to be staying.

“Great! I’ll come fetch you after breakfast.” And with that you’re gone, pushing the cart up the hallway and Yoongi watches you leave.

The morning greets Yoongi with a whistled song, a beam of sunlight lighting a stripe along the marble floor. He groans softly as he wakes, a headache thrumming at his temples and behind his eyes when he opens them to squint.

There’s a strange looking bird on the windowsill, hopping along it, chirping softly. The rising sun sets its plumes ablaze in emerald and a sheen of pink, and Yoongi watches as it ruffles its feathers and flies off.

There’s a knock at his door that disturbs the quiet and sends the headache bouncing in his head. He doesn’t think it’s you, as you would poke your head in after waiting a moment. The knock comes again and Yoongi’s forced to get up, shuffling towards the door.

There’s a young servant girl behind it, her eyes wide and blue when he opens the door. She’s brought him breakfast, hidden under silver trays and tells him to simply leave the cart outside when he’s done.

He pulls the cart into his room, finding a breakfast of porridge, toasted bread, scrambled eggs and sliced fruit.

Under the second tray is a porcelain tea set, a small holder with cubes of sugar and another with milk. There’s little mesh bags that smell like spices, which he leaves reluctantly, instead, dropping one of the roots that Hoseok had given him into the teacup. He pours the water over it and watches the steam rise from the cup, giving it time to draw as he eats.

He chews on the crust of a toast slice, watching the water turn auburn. He drinks it quickly, and tries to ignore the bitterness of it.

When he’d finished his breakfast, he left the cart outside as he was told. Before he’d gone to bed last night, a few maid servants brought him clothes that they’d tucked into the wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room, and showed him where the bathroom was. Embarrassingly, the door was hiding behind white drapes he thought were just there for some sort of decoration.

The clothes he received were mostly black and white, and they all incorporated navy blue somehow. He’s guessed by now that’s just the colour scheme of this place. He pulls out a neatly folded black long sleeve tunic, the strings that hold the v-cut of the collar closed the same navy blue as the glittering trimmings of the hem, and black cotton pants that he’ll have to fold at the ankles.

There’s a couple of soft towels folded and tucked into the bottom corner of the wardrobe, and he hugs everything to his chest and makes his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom is large, shelves jutting out of the wall beside a mirror filled with an assortment of bath oils and scented candles. The white marble of the floor shimmers with golden swirls, and the sunken bathtub in the middle of the room is big enough to fit four people standing five feet apart.

The silver faucet at the foot of the tub hums before it spits water when he turns the knob, steam rising and curling into the air. He sets his clothes and towel down, standing before the shelf to pick two of the oils he thinks smells the best.

There’s one that smells strangely of apricot and cinnamon, and one of mint leaves and a label that promises to soothe aches and pains. He pours a bit of each into the water and sinks into it with a sigh.

And Yoongi stays there until the light of the sun seems a bit brighter, no longer hiding behind trees and early morning mist. The sounds that float from outside through the cracked window aren’t half as mindful, as everyone is starting to wake up and go about their day. It’s different to the sounds he’s used to: honking cars and the buzz of traffic, people yelling, his neighbour’s stomping steps in the apartment above him. It’s quieter, the world wakes gently; he likes the change.

He feels different today, the jitter of his nerves had calmed some since last night, the headache he woke with was all but a memory that would be back later, he’s sure. He thinks that at some point between last night and waking, he’s accepted what his life is to be now. The weight of so many people’s lives apparently in his hands, the pressure that he’s certain would come with learning the workings of his arcane, the fact that he may never go back home. All of it.

He stays in the bath until his fingers are prunes and the water is cold, and his hair is a little short of damp; drying in a frizzy mess. He steps out of the tub, watching as the water magically drains away. He dries off and gets dressed, the clothes sticking to his damp skin where the swipe of the towel missed and steps out. He leaves the door open so that the air can flow through the room, filling his bed space with the scent of apricot and cinnamon.

When he's rolling his socks on and tucking the ends of his pants into the top of his boots, there’s a soft knock on his door. He expects the pause that comes after as much as he expected the door to open and you poking your head in.

You smile when you spot him, and Yoongi’s afraid that at some point, he’ll get too used to it. Your dress is silk and pale yellow today, a blue ribbon twisted into the braid of your hair.

“Good morning,” You greet at the door, not coming in and Yoongi wonders why, “Did you sleep well?”

There’s a murmur somewhere behind you that makes you look over your shoulder and roll your eyes, “Stop that.”

Yoongi stands, and at his approach you pull away from the gap in the door, and he finds Seokjin there too, leaning against the adjacent wall.

“If you’re going to be annoying you may as well find something else to do, Jin.” You say, turning to face Seokjin as Yoongi steps out of the room.

Seokjin points a finger to himself, looking offended, “Me? Annoying? I’m a joy to be around!”

“Yes. Whenever you’re not being like....whatever it is you’re being now.” You wave a hand at him, pursing your lips.

“It's my job to follow you around, Your Highness.” Seokjin retorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “I can’t just leave you alone with a stranger.”

“I’ll be fine.” You say a little testily, and Yoongi eyes dart between you and Seokjin as you have a stare off. He suddenly feels like he shouldn’t be standing here listening, feeling awkward and not sure what to do with his hands.

“I’ll walk five steps behind.” Seokjin says, moving a little ways away and counting his steps for you to hear, much to your evident annoyance.

You sigh through your nose, shaking your head before you turn to Yoongi. “There’s a lot to see, come on.”

You lead him through different hallways, showing him different rooms and different things of cultural significance, and Yoongi tries his best to keep up with it all. Seokjin is still walking five steps behind, and every now and then he could feel the weight of his gaze.

The library within the palace is expansive, the grandeur of its size evident as you step into the room. Rows of towering bookshelves line the walls, their mahogany frames gleaming softly in the ambient light filtering through stained glass windows. Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes in the vast collection of leather-bound tomes and ancient scrolls neatly arranged on polished wooden tables.

You gesture towards the rows of books, your voice carrying a note of reverence as you speak. “This is the heart of the palace’s knowledge, where centuries of history and wisdom are preserved.” As you lead Yoongi deeper into the library, you pause occasionally to point out notable works or elaborate on the significance of certain texts.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from curiosity to awe as he absorbs the wealth of information surrounding him. He finds himself immersed in the quiet serenity of the library, captivated by the timeless treasures it holds within its walls.

As you guide Yoongi further into the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink hangs in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of polished wood. Sunlight streams through ornate windows, casting ethereal patterns of light and shadow across the rows of shelves.

You pause beside a particularly ornate display case, its glass surface protecting delicate manuscripts and artifacts. “These are some of the rarest and most valuable pieces in our collection,” you explain, your voice hushed with reverence.

Yoongi leans in closer, his gaze drawn to the intricately illuminated manuscripts and ancient relics within the case. He reaches out tentatively, as if hesitant to disturb the timeless beauty before him.

As you continue the tour, weaving through the maze of bookshelves and alcoves, Yoongi’s fascination deepens with each passing moment. The weight of Seokjin’s silent presence fades into the background, overshadowed by the richness of knowledge and history contained within the library’s walls.

Together, you and Yoongi explore the depths of the library, delving into its vast archives and uncovering the secrets of centuries past. In this sanctuary of learning and discovery, time seems to stand still, allowing Yoongi to lose himself in the wonders of the written word.

Nestled within the heart of the library, concealed behind a discreet doorway veiled in shadow, lies a chamber of treasures known only to the royal family of Jax. This clandestine sanctum, accessible only to those of royal blood, houses a collection of artifacts and tomes that are as priceless as they are precious.

As the heavy door swings open on silent hinges, a soft glow spills forth, illuminating the room in a warm, golden light. Shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, laden with ancient scrolls, intricately bound tomes, and ornate artifacts of bygone eras. Each item within this sacred space holds a piece of the kingdom’s history, a testament to the valor, wisdom, and legacy of generations past.

Among the treasures housed within this chamber are artifacts of great significance, relics from battles long fought and victories hard won. Weapons forged of enchanted steel, their edges still sharp with the echoes of ancient conflicts, stand alongside intricately crafted jewelry adorned with precious gemstones, each piece a symbol of royal heritage and lineage.

Alongside the artifacts, shelves groan under the weight of countless tomes, their leather bindings weathered with age yet still bearing wisdom. These volumes contain the accumulated knowledge of scholars and sages, chronicling the history, culture, and arcane arts of the kingdom of Jax.

As Yoongi steps into this hallowed chamber, he is enveloped in a sense of reverence and awe, keenly aware of the weight of history that surrounds him. Each artifact and tome holds a story waiting to be discovered, a glimpse into the rich tapestry of the kingdom.

The air hums with an almost palpable energy, suffused with the residual magic of centuries gone by. Illuminated by soft, ethereal light that dances and flickers across the ancient stone walls, the room exudes an aura of mystique and wonder.

Upon shelves of polished oak and gilded metal, an array of artifacts sits neatly behind clear glass, each one imbued with its own unique enchantment. Robes of shimmering silk hang suspended in midair, their fabric rippling as if stirred by an unseen breeze, while ancient tomes bound in spell-woven leather beckon with promises of forbidden knowledge.

Glowing crystals pulsate with otherworldly radiance, casting prismatic hues across the room, while ornate staffs and wands stand sentinel, their intricate carvings whispering secrets of arcane power.

“Some arcane users use magic embedded weapons to channel their power.” Seokjin says from the doorway, keeping his word to stay at a distance. He doesn’t disturb your rambling, stepping closer to Yoongi as you move further away, not noticing that they weren’t following. “Some of these were made by the pixies, most of them by the Fae.”

Of course they have pixies, the surprises may never end, and curiosity makes Yoongi ask: “The Fae?”

Seokjin spares Yoongi a glance, “Your world must be so boring.” He sighs, “The Fae are thought to be descendants of an Arcane user that was cursed. They could be mistaken for pixies at a glance if you don’t know what to look for. They use arcane magic and their artifacts as they don’t have magic like the pixies do. They also don’t have wings, and the point of their ears are a lot shorter.”

Yoongi realises this is the most Seokjin has spoken to him since he’s arrived, without the air of barely concealed contempt. He glances at his ears and Seokjin notices, chuckling softly.

“I’m not a Fae. Half pixie.” He clarifies for him, though his tone is a little strained. “I don’t carry an arcane.”

His voice trails off and Yoongi senses that the moment is over. Your steps trail back to them, “You two had me talking to myself.”

“Sorry.” Yoongi and Seokjin speak at the same time, and Seokjin remains close as you continue walking.

You seem to glow in the soft glitter of light, a sparkle in your eyes as you explain everything to him. He wonders how you keep everything at the top of your head to rattle it off like you’re telling him about the weather.

Leaving the sanctuary of the library and the room of artifacts behind, you guide Yoongi through a series of winding corridors adorned with portraits of the royal family and their ancestors. Each painting tells a story, capturing the essence of generations past in vibrant strokes and intricate detail.

You pause before a particularly imposing portrait, its gilt frame gleaming in the dim light. It depicts a figure enveloped in swirling winds, their form shrouded in mystery and power.

“This is Incra.” you announce, your voice tinged with reverence. Incra, depicted in the painting, is a woman of striking beauty and undeniable grace. Her dark hair cascades in glossy waves around her shoulders, framing a face adorned with features as delicate as porcelain. Her eyes, pools of deep, mysterious darkness, hold a glimmer of ancient wisdom and unfathomable power.

In the painting, Incra stands with poise and confidence, her figure shrouded in billowing robes that ripple like the winds she commands. Her presence is commanding yet ethereal, radiating an aura of otherworldly elegance and strength.

Despite the passage of time, the artist has captured Incra’s timeless beauty with remarkable precision, immortalizing her as a symbol of reverence and awe.

Yoongi’s gaze lingers on the painting, captivated by the enigmatic figure at its center. He can almost feel the crackle of energy radiating from the canvas, a testament to the awe-inspiring abilities of the kingdom’s ancient arcane users.

As you move along the hallway, you continue to point out notable figures from the kingdom’s history, offering brief descriptions of their accomplishments and legacies. Yoongi listens intently, his curiosity piqued by the rich tapestry of stories woven into each painting.

With the tour of the paintings complete, you lead Yoongi onward, eager to show him more of the palace’s treasures and secrets. As you traverse the hallowed halls of the castle, Yoongi’s sense of wonder only grows, fueled by the tales of valor and magic that echo through its storied corridors.

Next to him, Seokjin stifles a yawn, “If you don’t stop her she could go on all day.” He says, as you open another door with flair, waving them both forward with a hand. Yoongi doesn’t mind really, even with all the knowledge trying to find a place to settle in his head, having to fit amongst all the other regular things already in there.

At the other end of this hallway is an arched ceiling above another door. The walls are carved by little arched windows that are opened to let the cool air from outside blow in.

Before you all could reach the other door, the door behind Yoongi and Seokjin opens. A young man steps through, eyes glancing between Yoongi and Seokjin before they settle on you. He looks like a guard, though dressed very differently to Seokjin. Adorned in a fitted tunic of midnight black, embellished with intricate silver embroidery that catches the light in subtle glimmers, the guard cuts a striking figure against the backdrop of the palace walls. His trousers, tailored to perfection, flow seamlessly into polished leather boots.

The hood of the dark cloak hides the colour of his hair, the folds of it billows at his feet in the slight breeze. There’s a a stretch of dark fabric over the bottom of his face that hides most of his features that leaves just the striking azure of his eyes. He looks like an assassin if Yoongi didn’t know any better.

“Your Highness.” He calls, and there’s a different air about him that Yoongi could feel. It crackles about him like static. “His Majesty requests you.”

“Oh.” You seem to deflate a bit, and Seokjin pats your shoulder gently.

“You can bore us later.”

There’s a swipe of your hand and Seokjin pulls away with a laugh, just shy of getting hit. There’s clearly something more between you both that goes beyond a Princess and her guard.

Yoongi thanks you for taking the time to show him around and you smile, bidding them both goodbye before you follow after the young man.

It’s quiet between Yoongi and Seokjin , the silence slowly melting into something a little awkward as they’re left alone.

“Well this was riveting.” Seokjin says, dropping his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and leading him forward towards the other end of the hallway. “I’ll show you the courtyard. All the fun stuff happens there.”

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#Persphonesorchid #Fic: Mark Of The Aracne #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts x reader #THIS IS SO AMAZING WHAT #DANI THE WORLD BUILDING #THE IMAGERY?!!#EXCUSE ME?!#everything about this world is so interesting #and i love you for sharing it with us

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allhobbitstoisengard · 3 months

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Reblogging for Hobi day 🥺🥺 this was so soft and sweet I love it

Constellations Of You - JHS

Summary: A new chapter of Him and You begins. He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of.

Genre: Est. Relationship, Fluff, smut (minors begone)

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Soft Dom Hoseok, he's a little bit mean. Unprotected sex, lots of pet names, uh Hobi puts his thumb in Mc's mouth at one point, hand on throat but not actually choking. Hoseok is soft as hell for MC and I'm gonna marry him or some shit.

Notes: Happy birthday to my man Hobi. Genuinely hope he's having a great day. Also I wrapped this fic up at like 2am this morning so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!

Check out my other works- HERE

If you enjoy my content, please consider donating- Here

It’s cold, and somewhere on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness, Hoseok shifts closer to you out of habit. The arm he throws over you meets the chill of the air too soon, and he lifts his head away from where it’s tucked against your neck. Sleepily, he squints against the light of the rising sun, it’s not quite there, but it’s peaking through the crack in the curtains and annoyingly, right in his eyes.

Shifting a bit more, Hoseok realizes that it’s cold where his hand is because you’ve kicked the sheets away from you at some point. Though he could see the furrow of your brows and the telling curl of your spine against his front, where you’d drawn your knees up and close to your chest.

Sighing, Hoseok sits up, yawning as he tries to pull the covers from where it’s tangled at his legs and somewhere – somehow – under you. Successful, he fixes the covers over you and sinks back into the warmth of it when you relax.

You murmur something that sounds like his name, rolling over and tucking yourself against him. Your feet are cold against his shins, but Hoseok doesn’t mind too much despite the quiet swear he lets out.

He’s awake enough now, to stare at the bare wall on the other side of the room. There’s two rolls of wallpaper leaning in a corner because you’d decided against painting, boxes stacked on top of each other because you’d both done everything but unpack them yesterday.

There’s still a lot to do, but Hoseok would like to wait until the sky is blue and he’s not as tired.

“What time is it?” you ask, lips brushing against his collarbone. He slips his hand under the oversized jersey you wore, pressing his fingers into the warmth of your skin.

“Too early,” Hoseok sighs, “go back to sleep.” He hikes his leg over your hip as you get comfortable. Just as he settles, eyes drifting closed again, you call his name and he answers with a hum that rumbles in his chest.

“When does the furniture get here?” Your voice is quiet, and Hoseok knows you’re already on your way back to sleep. He is too, and his answer is equally quiet.

“’Round eight...”

When Hoseok wakes again, you’re gone and he’s hugging the covers. There’s a clang from somewhere down the hall and a soft swear that follows. Rubbing at his eyes, Hoseok sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed to swing his legs over the side.

He walks out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where you stand facing away from him. There’s a soft popping of eggs in the frying pan, bacon set aside on a napkin covered plate and the electric kettle is whistling. He knows better than to sneak up on you while you’re over the stovetop, so he waits until you’ve set the spatula aside.

Walking over, he wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder to peer into the frying pan. You startle still, giggling, you lightly pat his arm, “You scared me.”

Hoseok places a gentle kiss on your neck in apology, “Thought you heard me.”

“S’okay,”

Hoseok sways you gently in place, forehead against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He’s content to just stand there, and if time freezes around him, he wouldn’t notice nor would it matter. In this moment where it’s just you and him and nothing can separate you both.

He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of. Even though, right now, it’s barely anything, a house full of your presence but lacking in memories. Something that will build in time. The space in which you’d share your highs and lows, when days would blend together on repeat and he’d lose track of them.

Hoseok could spend forever here, wrapped tightly in the little bubble of comfort. Where the scent of your coconut shampoo invades his senses and the warmth of you is a welcome sensation. He inhales softly, nose against your hair and presses a kiss where his lips could reach.

“I can’t do anything if you’re glued to me, Jay.” You chuckle, wiggling against him like a worm caught, but you don’t push him away. You turn the heat of the stove off with a quick movement of your fingers. You shift to the left and he moves with you, unwilling to separate by even a few inches. “Hoseok.”

Hoseok ignores the whine of his name, “Just pretend I’m not here.” He tightens his hold, only releasing when you whine louder.

Chuckling, he shuffles over to the kettle that’s long turned off, steam rising out of the pointed lip. The mugs you’d used last night were the only two in the cupboard overhead, and a half empty packet of instant coffee tucked into the corner. “Coffee or tea, babe?”

You look over at him, from where you’ve started cutting into an avocado. “Is the tea in the cupboard?”

Hoseok shakes his head, eyes darting to the boxes tucked in the far corner near the fridge behind you. “It's in there somewhere, I think.”

The face you make has him chuckling; he doesn’t want to go digging through the boxes anyway. He takes the mugs down, letting the dark grains of coffee roll on into them in even share. He pours less water in your mug, knowing that you’d put milk because there’s no creamer. Carefully, he takes the mugs over to the table and sets them down, the table that has two more chairs than needed but would be filled someday – one day.

You smile as you set the plates down, fingers reaching to dance at the back of his neck. Hoseok watches as you pour milk into your mug before you stick it into the microwave to bring back the heat it’s lost.

“What do we have to do today...besides unpacking everything?” Hoseok asks once you’ve settled opposite him, picking at the crust of his buttered toast.

You hum, “Grocery, and we have to replace the plates that broke yesterday. And the furniture’s supposed to be here soon.”

Nodding, you’d both spend the next ten minutes not doing much talking, mouths being busy otherwise. When finished, Hoseok does the clean up while you shower, and busies himself with unpacking the dishes. By the time you’re out, the mover’s truck is parked outside and for the next hour and a half, you and Hoseok decide how and where everything would go.

Distracted, for moments where you’d talk from different sides of the room, or doing silly dances to the hip-hop tracks coming from the stereo. And Hoseok, was more specifically distracted by you struggling to drag a large bag of drapes into the room from the hallway. You laugh as you stumble, deciding to stop and push instead of pull, the soft light from the sun coming in through the windows glows against the backdrop of your form.

“What color should we go with?” You ask, hands on your hips as you stare down into the open bag.

Long before, a good four or so years ago, Hoseok never had to worry about the ‘we’. He didn’t have to measure his actions to suit the cause and effect of another person, free to be who he was in all his lonesome. When he’d work and return to his apartment that was solely his. His own space in which he was content, where he’d cook only for himself, or didn’t have to worry when he left the toilet seat up in his half awake state.

When the framed pictures on his walls were of him and his friends, treasured moments that belonged only to them. Then, you came and that had to change, I became Us – a unit that took time to build upon and get used to. Suddenly, he wasn’t cooking for himself anymore, and he would put the toilet seat back down no matter how sleepy he was. The framed pictures on the walls never changed, only new ones were added, treasured memories that belonged only to you and him.

It wasn’t all easy, no relationship ever is. There were ups and downs, arguments where you’d both said things you hadn’t meant when anger and frustration persisted. Moments when it was better to just give each other space to cool off, and all would be forgiven after a long talk.

And there were moments where Hoseok felt like he was floating somewhere above the clouds. So high up, tethered to earth by a string that wound itself around your wrist. Sometimes he worried, in late nights after a particularly bad fight and too much whisky, that you’d cut him loose one day and he’d come crashing down like a comet. You never did, though, you’d only hold tighter to the string that kept you both.

Hoseok walks over to you, you’re digging through the bag, pulling out different shades of lighter curtains to get to the drapes at the bottom. He lays his palm against your lower back, fingers dipping under the edge of the sweater you’ve taken out of his side of the closet. You hum in question, straightening against him. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Maybe.” Hoseok smiles, letting his hand roam around to the soft expanse of your tummy and leaves it there. “I don’t need anything, just love you.”

“I love you, too?” Your brows furrow and you chuckle out your confusion. In all his dramatics and flare, Hoseok pulls away from you, a hand pressed against his chest as though wounded.

“A question?” he gasps, “Doth the fair maiden not share the same sentiments?”

“Oh, God. Never say that again.” You turn to face him, a laugh on your exhale, but you go along with it anyway; never one to deny him. “A rash assumption, Sir Jung.”

On your toes you tip, and Hoseok meets you halfway when he leans for your sake, expecting the kiss that you brush so lightly against his lips with a sweet hum. “I love you too, silly.”

Hoseok is reaching for you, but you slip away too quickly, free from the grasps of his hands you nudge the bag at your feet. “Now if you would be so kind. Help me pick a color.”

“Should we get this?”

You’re a little ways away from Hoseok, where he’s manning the shopping cart filled with groceries. You’re standing near the freezers, a box of ice-cream pops in your hand. You’re not looking at him though, instead, pondering the different flavors in your sight.

Hoseok wheels the cart and sets it to the side and out of anyone’s way. You’ve long run through the list of essentials, now, Hoseok’s only trailing behind you as you ask his opinion on random things you wanted. “If you want, yeah.”

He looks at the flavors too, and picks up a box that marketed a pistachio flavor. You glance at it and make a face, “It's not that bad,” he chuckles, taking your plain chocolate and placing them both in the cart.

By the time you’re out of the grocery and on the drive back home, it’s almost four pm. Most of the morning and early afternoon was spent organizing the house, and a late lunch left you both behind on getting everything done.

With the indicator ticking rhythmically, Hoseok turns onto the neighborhood street. You lean forward in your seat, squinting, “Is that Seokjin’s car?”

It was, and once Hoseok parked in the driveway, he’d found his friends sitting on the sidewalk. Hugs and congratulatory greetings were shared, Jungkook is holding a stack of pizza boxes, a couple more than Hoseok thinks they’d be able to run through. Seokjin’s complaining about the crick in his neck that he acquired and blames on the length of time he’d spent driving over.

Namjoon and Yoongi are standing a little ways off to the side of the group, both laughing at the fact that they’ve brought the same bottle of whisky. Jimin’s clinging to Hoseok’s frame, saying that he missed him too much even though he’d seen him the day before in the city. Taehyung’s trying to get everyone to quiet down, camera in hand and wanting to take a photo.

So you all stand there once Taehyung has the camera on the tripod and they all surround you both, with smiles and peace signs. A photo that would be framed to put somewhere in the living room. And you all clamber inside, out of the cold before Yoongi could start to complain about it. A housewarming get together that was entirely unplanned, but not unwelcome.

When the sun pulled the moon into the sky, and the pizza boxes were surprisingly empty, the boys said their goodbyes at the door. Wandering off to Seokjin and Yoongi’s cars with promises of visiting as often as their time allows.

You and Hoseok called an early night, after you’d both washed the day away. He’d left you to settle into bed while he locked the doors and windows. Eyes wandering around the space that was previously open, now comforting, and with a memory that’s on its way to sinking into the walls.

Hoseok makes his way up the stairs, after making sure he’d left the kitchen light on because you wouldn’t be comfortable if all the lights are out. He finds you, just as you place your phone down on the nightstand. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly crawls under the covers and into your space.

He draws you closer to him with an arm around your waist, kisses your shoulder where your tee shirt’s tugged down to reveal your warm skin. You shift in his hold, turning to face him and Hoseok peppers small, fluttering kisses all over your face.

Nudging your chin with his fingers, Hoseok tilts your head back enough to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is languid and patient, much like his love for you, his fingers drifting softly against your jaw and into your hair.

It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s sucking on your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth to slide against yours. His hand trails away from your hair, down and back under your tee shirt where he gently grips your hip. He brings his knee up between your thighs and he swallows the sound you make when it pressed flush against your core.

He directs the motion of your hips against his thigh, and the whimper you let out when he pulls his mouth away from yours runs like electricity on a wire straight to his cock.

The hand that’s trapped under the weight of your head twists towards you, lacing into your hair so that Hoseok could press his lips against your neck. He nips at your skin with blunt teeth, there’s a desperation in the way you try to rock your hips faster than he’s letting you and the way softly whine his name.

“Hobi.” He feels your hand curl into the material of his tee and the way you tug. He hums, too busy sucking a bruise below your jaw to properly answer.

“Want you.”

Hoseok pulls away from your neck, his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness of the room to make out the outline of your features. He needs no light to guess how you look right now: pupils swallowing the expanse of your irises, flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

Tilting his head, he halts your movement with a firm grip. Allowing you your moment to protest against it, there’s a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth and dark need swirling in his chest.

“Yeah?” Hoseok coos softly – mockingly – tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He feels your nod more than he sees, and he chuckles, “Ask nicely, little girl.”

“Please, please.” You chant, begging so, so sweet for him, and Hoseok catches your hand that snuck under his tee shirt. Softly, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, and pulls away.

He shifts, raising to throw the now too warm covers off. He settles you how he wants, on your back with his knees on either side of your hips. He keeps your wrists in his hand, above your head, while his other hand teases at the band of your panties. He kisses you softly, pressing his lips against yours and not doing much else, shifting to get himself between your thighs.

“So desperate for me, hm?” Angling his hips just right, he lets his arm hold his weight and presses the firmness of his cock against your covered cunt. At your moan, Hoseok draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He could barely stand it himself, his boxers felt too tight against him, he could feel just how worked up you are. There’s a dampness that’s all you, easing the grind of his cock against you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Touch me, please.” You request breathlessly, hips raising to meet his.

“I am touching you, doll.” Hoseok squeezes your wrist gently in his hold to remind you, and he could only chuckle at your frustrated exhale, “You know how this works. Tell me exactly or I won’t know what you want.”

He stills his hips and waits – ever patient – until you catch your breath.

“Want your hands, cock – anything, please.”

Leaning down, Hoseok presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, before he draws back again, letting go of your hands. Running his hands along your sides, he tugs lightly at the hem of your tee, “Off.”

You raise slightly, hastily pulling the shirt up and over your head. Hoseok does the same, quickly clambering off the bed to get out of his clothes and getting back in just as quickly.

He puts himself right back between your legs, a hand fumbling blindly to press against your clit. His fingers slide against you easily, sinking into the warmth of you, his other hand squeezes at the base of his cock to mirror the tightness he feels. He’d barely gotten a few thrusts in when you’d turn restless, the way your hips rose to meet the motion of his hand gave way to your frustration.

“Hobi...”

“Okay, okay.” Hoseok chuckles as your impatience is his own, too. He tugs you to him with his arms around your thighs, using a hand to rub the sensitive head of his cock against your sodden folds. A groan leaves him as he sinks his cock into you, keeping a steady pace of shallow thrusts until he bottoms out.

“Fuck, baby.” Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, leaning forward over you, caging you in with his hands beside you head, “Always so good for me.”

The kiss you share then is teeth and tongue as Hoseok finds his rhythm, the sound of his hips meeting yours is loud in the stillness of the room. He groans into your neck where he licks and sucks at your salty skin.

Hoseok almost blows his load when your pussy clenches around him. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when you shudder, thighs tightening as you try to pull him as closely as you could. “Gonna cum?”

“Y-yeah.” Your words broken, pitched high with your need, eyes rolling back as Hoseok began to drag out his movements.

“Yeah? Then beg for it little girl.” His hand shifts, resting against your jaw gently, “Beg me to let you cum.”

His thumb slips into your mouth and you suck on it like you would his cock, tongue swirling around the digit. Hoseok groans low in his throat, cock twitching inside your cunt. Eyes trained on your mouth, he presses down on your tongue to pry your lips apart. “Come on, sweetheart.”

His fingers squeezing into the plump flesh of your thigh, hips rolling against yours, “Beg.”

“Please, please let me cum, Hobi.”

“Good girl.” Hoseok hips snap, wild and chasing his own release. Nimble fingers with jagged movements against your clit, your moans raise in pitch and it had Hoseok’s hips stuttering.

“Fuck baby, c’mon.” Hoseok’s eyes roll back, he rests his forehead against yours, “Cum for me, pl-please, baby.”

He kisses you, when you gasp his name and shudder - all tongue and teeth and a sloppy mess, pace slowing to measured thrusts, and then he was coming. His hips stutter as he mutters a string of curses that blends into your name. There’s stars behind his eyelids and he can’t hear past the rushing of the blood in his ears.

Your fingers are running through his hair when Hoseok finally feels like he’s not melting into a boneless puddle against you. He presses kisses to your skin, wherever he could reach, with a lazy smile.

“Hobi,” You grunt, though there’s humor in your tone as you pat his side, “Please get off me I can’t breathe.”

Hoseok sighs, long and drawn out, “But I like it here.”

“I will bite you.” It’s a threat, and a promise, and Hoseok takes it seriously. Carefully, he raises up and off you, sitting near the foot of the bed.

He rubs at your calf with a light touch, “Wanna change the sheets now or after a quick rinse?”

“After,” you mutter, “I don’t even think I can move right now.”

Chuckling, Hoseok helps you sit up, crowding your space once more to place a kiss against your nose.

When all is said and done, you’re both laying in bed again, on fresh, cool sheets. Hoseok has his arm around you, and you’re both sleepy enough to drift away in the comfort that you’d both created.

"I love you.”

If you'd like to be on my taglist, let me know :)

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @eoieopda @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @madbutgloriouspond @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @eren-fall @mssukeyna

#persphonesorchid #Fic: Constellations Of You #Jhope #hobi day #happy birthday hobi #jung hoseok x reader #jhs #jhope x reader #jung hoseok fluff

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allhobbitstoisengard · 7 months

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There's so much I want to say! But firstly, Dani, you never disappoint! Your writing is as beautiful as ever, and I've followed you around since your Wattpad Sherlock/Loki days, and you've grown so much as an author I'm literally crying.

This fic is just, it's so precious. I hope that the boys really do find love out there (if they haven't already), someone they can connect with who has the patience and understanding to handle their lives and everything that comes with it. The times where Namjoon is thinking is this okay for me to do? But he's not only thinking of himself, but MC as well, with everything that his life brings it doesn't affect him alone in a situation like that. But 🥺🥺🥺 she was just so patient and literally so chill about everything...I wanna be just like her when I grow up 😂

Okay onto my rambles. Miss ma'am, the ending of the pajamas scene and the scene that comes after it....I SAW WHAT YOU DID THERE! Had me cracking up when I thought something else was going on.

I don't think Namjoon could fit any more of his foot in his mouth if he tried LMAO : "I sleep naked sometimes...so..." -- "There's a solution for that."

Also: "He knows how to hold a knife without much trouble, at least" me, laughing at that because all I could think of was:

Idk joon, do you? 😭

AND THE SMUT LITERALLY HAD ME CLIMBING THE WALLS AMD SHIT DANI WTF 😭 "I got you, baby." YEAH BOI, GOT ME HANGING FROM THE CEILING 😭

Thank you for writing this beautiful fic and sharing it with us!!

Orbiting Jupiter - KNJ

Summary: Namjoon has never met someone like you in a long time. Jupiter to his Ganymede; he’s stuck in your orbit.

Warnings: Lots of anxiety on Namjoon’s part, mentions of being stalked, Namjoon hurts himself more than anything bc he’s clumsy. Smut (Minors begone.): Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, light spit play, Namjoon’s daddy kink is a brief topic of interest lol. I think that’s all, let me know if i missed any!

Word count: 13.4k

Genre: Idolverse, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst (it’s not much, promise :)) Smut

Keep reading

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allhobbitstoisengard · 9 months

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The lack of alchemy of souls x reader just makes me wanna crawl into a hole and stay there.

#alchemy of souls #jang uk x reader #seo yul x reader #go won x reader #alchemy of souls x reader #aos

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allhobbitstoisengard · 9 months

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OH OH I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THE UPDATE!!!

okay! First off! I'm really happy with how it ended! There was no wild declaration or confessions, it just felt like it happened naturally! And when I think back on the first part, Yoongi had always cared about Y/n like that and she cared about him that way too.

It didn't feel rushed into or anything because it was already there. Them being together just flowed in so easily, and it was there from the start.

Yoongi's just so 🥺🥺 he's so soft! They're so sweet on eachother (when they're not bickering)

Seokjin knew something was up before they did 😂😂 he was just waiting.

Thank you for writing this beautiful work, Dani!! You did great as always!💖💖💖💖

Lovin' On You - MYG

Summary: After what happened at the fair, Yoongi is plagued with a re-occurring nightmare of a life that was once his. For a reason that escapes him, he's held on to the Lover's card.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, fluff, angst.

Warnings: talking about nightmares, Yoongi and Mc still don't know what to do with themselves. They're honestly so annoying oml. Yoongi bites his nail and it bleeds just a little bit :(. Mc has a nightmare, but don't worry! Yoongi's there :) Unbeta'd

Wordcount:7.8k

Masterlist - Here

Read Hatin' On You - Here

If you like my content, please consider supporting me - Here

Notes: It's HERE YAY! Finally wrapped this up at 2am this morning! :))) I hope the wait wasn't too annoying, and I really hope you guys enjoy this!! Feedback is appreciated and encouraged! Let me know what you think! I hope after the long wait that this is okay for you all! Have a good day! :))

Yoongi’s standing in a doorway. There’s a storm raging behind him. It rattles the wooden panes of a house that’s cold, the wind blows and leaves and rain follow. His heart is at his feet, scattering in the breeze that blows in from outside. He’s cold and soaked from the rain but he doesn’t even have it in him to shiver.

The first beat of his heart then is harsh, it stalls his breath, catching it his throat where it stifles him. The other kicks so hard he thinks it’d burst right through his ribs.

There’s a woman on the floor, and he says a name he doesn’t know. A name he could barely hear over the thunder that claps, a name that clings to his throat with the way he chokes on it. She stares right through him, eyes dimmed and dull. He stumbles forward and drops to his knees before he reaches her. The floor is hard, digging into the silk of his clothes and the cold, soaked skin beneath.

Her blood is cold and his hand slips as he grabs for her, pressing his hands against the wound that still bleeds.

“N-no. Why...why are you laying here?” He sits in the blood, and it stains his clothes. She’s heavy as he lifts her, staring into her eyes that can no longer see. “Why are you laying here? Wake up. Wake up!”

Yoongi startles awake, sitting up in his too warm sheets, gasping for air. His heart pounds in his chest like he’s been running, his throat feels raw like he’s been screaming at the top of his lungs. He kicks the tangled covers off and stumbles out of bed. With a hand pressed over his mouth he runs to the bathroom across the hall.

He spills the dinner he had into the toilet, sitting on the cold tiled floor. When he’s done, he sits there and sobs, and he wishes he knew why he was crying. Why the sadness he felt sealed him in this little corner, closing around his throat in a way that makes him gasp for air. And the guilt, there’s so much that Yoongi feels as though he could reach into his chest and scoop it all out.

It isn’t his.

These emotions do not belong to him, and Yoongi wishes he could leave them alone. But every night - or ungodly hour of the morning - for the past week, he’s here. Reeling from the too vivid fragments of a dream, a memory that doesn’t belong to him either.

It was his, maybe, a couple lifetimes ago. Where a man and a woman met a tragic end.

He squeezes his eyes shut, wiping his face with the collar of his tee-shirt. He’s tired of this and in general, he’s not gotten much sleep since that night at the fair. Yoongi sighs, long and drawn out, standing on shaky legs to flush the toilet and wobble over to the sink to brush his teeth. He stares at himself in the mirror, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, the mess of his hair and his tired, red eyes.

He wonders how you’re doing. If you’re asleep right now, all warm and cosy in your sheets. Or if you’re in the same predicament as he is. The thought of you going through the same thing doesn’t bring him comfort, instead, worry draws his brows together.

He remembers well the panic you were in, standing in the middle of a storm looking through him. Your fingers were cold when they wrapped around his wrist then, calling his name so softly he’d barely heard you.

He’s been suffering, constantly reliving a moment that wasn’t his. He’d hate if you had to do the same. He’d had to make sure you stayed grounded there with him, in the middle of whatever insane shared subconscious acid trip you’d both went on. He couldn’t let you fall into whatever you were feeling.

Yoongi sighs, flipping the light switch as he walks out the bathroom. He stands at the open door of his bedroom, staring at the rumpled sheets of his bed and wonders if getting back into it would be worth the tossing and turning. Sleep is already long gone and the furthest thing from his mind, so Yoongi walks to his kitchen instead.

He feels a little lost, not quite sure what he’s doing standing there in the dark at four in the morning. Tired of this seemingly endless loop of the past week, but too restless to attempt putting an end to it. He does the same he’s done all week when he wakes up at ass ‘o clock; make a cup of coffee, sit at the table and stare into the swirling pool of liquid.

“Fucking hell.” He presses his palms into his eyes and sighs.

Yoongi sits there until his white ceramic cup is empty, and he makes another, and the sun is scattering orange and pinks, coming up between the clouds. His phone chimes where he’d brought it and left it on the table, a short vibration and a brief glow of his lock screen shows a text alert.

He stares at it for a moment, noting the time to be just a bit after six am. He wonders who it could be at this hour, if it’s Seokjin or Jungkook after staying up too long, playing video games. Or maybe, Namjoon, owning up to that broken mug still sitting in his trash that Yoongi knows he broke.

He unlocks the phone with a press of his thumb. It’s neither of the people he thought of, but a short string of words in a good morning text from you.

Yoongi’s a little surprised.

Even after that night at the fair, after he’d said you should both start over, and you agreed; nothing much has happened. It’s a bit hard, to break out of the habit of not keeping up with you simply because he has no reason to.

His finger hovers over the text box, mind mulling over what exactly to say. A simple good morning back, after not much thought, and then, asking why you were awake this early.

As soon as the text was sent and received by you, you’re calling him. For a second, his heart races as he fumbles to swipe at the pick-up prompt. The same way it did when that lost kid at the fair mistook you both for a couple.

Yoongi didn’t let the thought linger, storing it in a little box to mull over another time when his palms aren’t sweating. Or when he isn’t stumbling through a greeting like he’s never spoken to you before. Well, he has...but never in a way that doesn’t send you two bickering.

“Hey...” Your voice is soft, and he barely hears you over what he assumes is you shuffling about in your sheets. “Sorry, I know this is random, ‘cause we don’t really talk...”

“It’s okay, what’s up?” Yoongi presses his phone between his ear and shoulder, getting up to refill his cup with more steaming coffee. You go quiet for a moment, long enough that Yoongi has to check to see if the call is still connected. “Y/n?”

“This is gonna sound weird...but I don’t think anything can be weirder than what happened last week. Honestly, nothing’s ever gonna top that ev- “

He calls your name again, as he catches on that you’re rambling and not actually getting anywhere close to telling him why you called. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh, whispering something that he doesn’t catch before speaking up, “I’ve...Have you...” you trail off, groaning.

“Take your time, I’ve got all day.” Yoongi didn’t actually mean it in the way it sounded, he really does have all day.

“Okay, let’s talk about the weather then. Cause you clearly don’t wanna hear what I have to say. What if it’s something really important? What if I was dying? Bet you wouldn’t sass me then.” You go off in a tangent, and Yoongi lets you get all your words out. There’s a little smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, which, all in his lonesome, he doesn’t bother to hide. This feels familiar, a tug backwards to where you both were before that night last week.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Yoongi can’t help the soft chuckle he hopes you didn’t catch, and that’s because he’s stirring a spoonful of sugar into his coffee very loudly to cover it. He shuffles back to the chair at the dining table, slumping into it, tracing the handle of his mug with a finger. “And besides, if you were dying, I’d be the last person you call. Matter of fact, I’d probably hear it from Seokjin.”

“I wouldn’t even have the time to call him.” You laugh, it’s a nice sound, and before, for reasons he couldn’t understand, it was like nails on a blackboard. It’s pleasant, makes him smile again for no reason at all.

“...Anyway. I’ve been having dreams...” You finally say, and despite the way it warrants the concern from earlier, he keeps quiet. You saying that to him can only mean one thing, and its exactly what Yoongi was afraid of.

“We all have dreams, Y/n.” Is what he says instead, because he’d be damned if you knew he’s been worried about you. Not right now when nothing between you both has gone further than a handshake and an attempt to move forward. You’re barely friends.

“Yoongi.” The way you say his name has him pursing his lips and relenting. “This is serious.”

“Okay.” Yoongi sighs, he was hoping you wouldn’t say that. He sets his mug down, not quite feeling for the coffee anymore; he’s had more than enough of it anyway. He’d be lucky if he would be able to sit still in a couple of hours. You’re quiet again, but Yoongi knows to give you a moment, so he waits, getting up instead to poke through his fridge.

He’s studying the left-over rice and the eggs on the top shelf when you find your voice.

“Do you think...are you busy? Can I come over?” You ask softly.

Yoongi hums, a little distracted, reaching for a small container of garlic butter he’s sure was Seokjin’s idea. He squints at the yellow and blue label before shaking his head and putting it back, “You don’t know where I live, though.”

“.... I was there last month, remember? Hobi dragged me over there for that get together thing...”

“Ah.” Yoongi nods, pulling out the rice he tucked in a Tupperware bowl and a couple eggs. “I don’t even remember seeing you then...” He’s lying; he does. He remembers that he told Hoseok to not bring you along, but all the little shit did was roll his eyes and brought you anyway. Yoongi’s anything but rude, so he had no choice but to suck it up and stay as far away from you as possible.

Everyone acted nicely and pretended not to notice the tension.

“I heard there’s pills for that you know? I got some for my Grandad some time ago, works miracles.”

“Fuck off.” Yoongi grumbles but doesn’t do much else as you continue to tell him how good it would be to get them. He doesn’t mind this, there’s a sense of normalcy in your banter and he finds comfort in it. “Get here before I change my mind.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There's a beep and then you’re gone and Yoongi’s wondering if he should make more rice.

A half hour later, there’s a knock on the door, and Yoongi turns the heat of the stovetop off to answer it. You’re standing on the other side, a nervous air about you as he lets you in. He closes the door behind you, giving you a moment to take your shoes off and trail behind him to the kitchen.

He'd fussed a bit over the fried rice he made, that still sits in the pot, cooling on the table, and Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek.

“Have...Have you eaten?�� He asks softly, not quite sure what to do with himself now that you’re here. You shake your head, and he silently nods and moves to the cabinets to grab bowls and utensils, he sits opposite you when he finished serving the bowls, setting one down in front of you.

You eat silently for a moment and Yoongi doesn’t want to rush you, so he eats too, a little awkwardly. It’s hard when it’s just the both of you, without your friends to act as a buffer, and Yoongi studies you as you eat, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

“Are you okay?” He ignores the urge to reach for your hand and curls his free one against his thigh.

You finally look at him, raising a brow, “Are you? You look like shit.”

Yoongi’s quite aware of how he looks, he’s not been getting enough rest and it shows. He chuckles though, a brief shake of his shoulders and he shakes his head, looking down at the fried rice in his bowl, “Wow. Thanks, you really know how to compliment a guy.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, and Yoongi’s lost in it, almost blinded. You let your spoon rest in the bowl, a small furrow between your brows and concern in your eyes. Yoongi’s a bit surprised at that, though, he thinks he should try to get used to it... if you’re gonna be friends and all. “Seriously though, are you?”

Yoongi lets out a breath, tongue poking into his cheek, “Could be better, honestly.” He raises a shoulder in a shrug, “Sleep’s hard to come by.”

You hum softly, sighing, “You too, huh?”

“The dreams...?” You suddenly look as tired as Yoongi feels, nodding your head quietly.

Your eyes shift to somewhere above his head, and something cracks in Yoongi’s chest at the sadness in them. It’s the same as that night, out in the storm, and he doesn’t hesitate to take your hand this time. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing yours first before he draws them closer and into his hand. “Hey, talk to me.”

You let out a soft laugh that sounds sardonic to Yoongi’s ears, but he doesn’t pull his hand away and instead tightens his grip and calls your name softly. You take a breath, something he sees more than he hears, your eyes meet his and there’s a shine to them that makes Yoongi uncomfortable. It burrows into his chest and stays there, gnawing at the strings. He doesn’t want to see you cry so he looks away first and sighs softly.

“I’ve been getting them, too.” He says, still not looking at you, he focuses on the warmth of your hand in his, “Just one, every time.”

The sadness from this morning returns, and Yoongi feels as though he’s standing in that doorway, staring at the woman on the floor with a grief that isn’t his. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, as though it would stop the image from flashing behind them. It doesn’t, and he sees it anyway, like if his eyes are open. He drums the fingers of his free hand against the tabletop in a rhythm and focuses on that for a moment.

“It’s always...” he sighs, “just her...on the floor...” He doesn’t want to say more and he’s glad when you don’t ask him to. He tries not to look at you, because looking at you makes him remember. You’re not her, he reminds himself, though, there’s some similarity in your presence. The feeling of the air in the space you occupy that doesn’t allow him to let it go.

He almost rolls his eyes, really, because why is he so caught up in this? Part of him still believes that what happened that night never did.

But you’re here, you, who just this time last week, he’d wanted nothing to do with. You didn’t matter enough for him to spare a thought if it wasn’t for complaining or trying to rinse Seokjin’s ears out with a few choice words because yes, you - absolutely, most definitely - had to be at the fair with them.

Yoongi still thinks Seokjin traded spots with Jimin to pick you up on purpose. Just out of spite.

He doesn’t think it’s too much of a bad thing now, since really, you’re all he thought of in the days following, and, under no good circumstance, this past week.

You, who shared the same weird moment with him, and that stupid card is sitting on his dresser, still. He’d said that you both should start over, and he meant it. He’d like to backtrack a bit, he thinks, figure out the when and why you both had started out the way you had.

Maybe you were laughing too loudly, or maybe you tried too hard to be nice meeting him for the first time. Whatever it was...now that Yoongi’s taking a moment to think about it – albeit, a terrible moment, he’s sure he’s been silent for a while now – he didn’t like you.

He wonders what it was now, why it was mutual...he doesn’t know. And he probably wouldn’t know for a while.

Maybe it’ll come to him later, when all this is done, he’ll figure it out.

“Hey.” Your fingers wiggle against his palm but you don’t pull them away. Turning your hand just a bit to hold his and squeeze softly, “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry.” Yoongi offers a faint smile and not much else, and goes quiet again, watching you watch him with a slight frown and something he can’t put a name to in your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m okay.”

He listens as you tell him about your dream, just one that reoccurs, stuck in a loop like he’s been for the past week. In your dream you’re no longer standing on the outskirts of a memory, but right in the middle of it playing the part of the woman that met her end.

Once the food was finished you both stay at the table, not quite sure what to do now.

“Have any idea what it might be?” You ask softly and Yoongi can only shake his head.

“Trauma response, maybe.” He mutters, leaning back into his chair, “...What if we check the fair? It’s supposed to be here still, we might be able to find something out. Or at least a way to stop the dreams?”

You perk up, “Yeah, I think that would be a good idea...” then you pause, “But...She disappeared, remember? The whole place was gone when we woke up...I’m not even sure if it was there to begin with...”

Yoongi hums, rubbing his fingers against his bottom lip in thought. That’s true, and even now it still confuses him how everything disappeared as though it was never there. It makes everything feel as though it was just a dream. With a plan in mind, both you and Yoongi leave his apartment, heading down the stairs together to his car.

Once settled in, Yoongi turns the radio on, he has a feeling you won’t be doing much talking and needs something to fill the silence before it gets awkward. The drive is a long as he remembers, out of the city and a couple miles or so before he could see the tops of the fair attractions. It’s void of fair-goers, considering it’s only eight in the morning, and the little ticket booth just outside the entrance is empty.

Yoongi shuts off the engine, setting his hands on the wheel and peers through the windshield. Further inside, from where he could see, there’s a few people – most likely staff – going about their businesses’. They don’t seem to notice you both, too busy setting up for what would probably be the last and busiest night of the fair. “Don’t suppose we could just walk through the gate, huh?”

There’s a sigh from you, “We could just be normal people and ask, you know.”

“They’re closed, they won’t let us in.” Yoongi hums, not to mention, they’d probably think you’re both crazy with the story you’d have to explain. “Or...” he unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car, “C’mon.”

Around the perimeter of the fair, there’s a sparse smattering of trees. It’s not much to hide a person, much less two sneaking around, but if Yoongi remembers correctly; that strange woman’s tent was just at the edge of it. He waits until you’re out of the car, expression a little distrusting – your slightly narrowed eyes giving him a once over. He thinks nothing of taking your hand, tugging you long behind him as he moves around to the corner of the entrance, he peeks around the booth and through the chain-linked fencing. Everyone on the compound seems far enough away, no one close enough to see you two act like teenagers up to no good, one bad step away from getting arrested for trespassing.

“What are you doing?” You ask, loud enough to make Yoongi falter the step he was about to take. He turns to you slightly, lips in a flat line, you stare at him expectantly and Yoongi wave his hand.

“I don’t know, what does it look like we’re doing?” He asks, shaking his head at you before turning around again. The first booth that’s closet to the entrance has people milling about it now, two of them carrying boxes and the other person fumbling with something in their hands.

“I am so not climbing this fence, Yoongi.” You say, and Yoongi feels the finger of your free hand poking his back.

“Obviously, shithead. You wanna get arrested?” Yoongi rolls his eyes skyward and stares for a moment, sighing. “We’re going around, now keep quiet, you’re talking too loud.”

You grumble something to yourself, and Yoongi ignores you, waiting until the folks at the booth seem busy enough not to notice you both; backs to you. He pulls you along beside him, crossing over some shrubbery and into the trees, as you both move further along, there’s more people. The trees do a good job at hiding you both, and Yoongi knows it’s not much further when he sees the bathroom’s chipping paint.

This is a terrible idea, but Yoongi’s had worse. Though, this is very high on his list of bad decisions.

Eventually there’s a break in the chain link fence, where the shrubbery and the sparse trees meet the edge of the compound. The space where he clearly remembers the tent being, is unsurprisingly empty.

“Now what?” You murmur next to him, quietly even though there’s no reason for you to be whispering.

Yoongi lifts a shoulder in a shrug, “Can’t say we didn’t try...Hey-” He reaches for you as you walk past him and onto the compound. He follows – of course he does – grabbing your wrist and tugging you back a little before you can get too far. “There’s nothing here.”

Yoongi scans the area anxiously, knowing his luck, someone’s bound to see you both standing here in broad daylight. It’s unnervingly quiet, save for the faint sounds of people around the compound doing their jobs.

Something settles in your expression that Yoongi doesn’t like, as you stare at the empty lot. There’s a furrow between your brows, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. Yoongi understands, he wants this over with as much as you do. He wants a night where his dreams don’t disturb the little sleep he can catch on a normal day. Not stuck in some endless loop of mishaps.

Yoongi releases his hold, keeping an eye out while you figure out whatever is going on in your head. He wants to ask, not let you sink too far, but shakes his head instead, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

It took a second to realise there was something more in there than his car keys. Small and sleek and making the hair on the back of his neck raise. Yoongi takes a breath, settling his nerves before pulling the item out of his pocket. By now, he’s used to it – stranger things have happened – but it doesn’t change the fact that he left the stupid card on his dresser.

The gold letters and design of the Lover’s card glimmers against the sunlight. The couple on the card stands in a beautiful, fertile landscape, reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. Behind the woman stands a tall apple tree, with a snake winding its way up the trunk. Behind the man is a bare tree in flames, and above them both is an Angel.

Yoongi doesn’t know if he expects the depictions on the card would shift the more he studies it. Or maybe, if he was really lucky, it would burst into flames in the direct sunlight and he can be rid of it. Unfortunately, Yoongi’s never that lucky. He wonders if it’s cursed, and given his luck it might as well be. Isn’t that how those silly horror movies go? Someone always ends up with a cursed object somehow.

There’s something unsettling curling in his stomach as he stares at it, and when you turn to him, he quickly tosses it. He sees it flutter to the grassy ground in the corner of his eye, and he’s certain you’d notice, too. So, he takes a wide step to reach you, offering a smile. “We should go...”

Maybe the tent would be here if you both return later. Yoongi wouldn’t be shocked if the strange woman only comes out at night.

There’s a faraway look in your eyes when Yoongi reaches for your hand, he hooks a finger into the sleeve of your sweater and tugs lightly. You blink quietly at him and Yoongi sighs softly, taking a step closer to take your hand. “We’ll come back later, okay?”

You nod minutely, and Yoongi takes the small smile you offer as a victory. Your fingers curl into his, and they’re a little cold, so Yoongi gently rubs his thumb against the back of your hand.

It takes a few steps forward before the hair on the back of his neck raises. The wind that blows by is certainly too cold for the dead end of Spring and Yoongi falters in his next step, he squeezes your hand lightly and stands still.

“Young man.”

The voice is one he remembers faintly, and he turns, tugging you behind him slightly. He’s ready to tell you to make a run for it, hand almost slipping out of yours to push you if he must.

The woman looks older in the natural light, she has more wrinkles than Yoongi remembers. Her silver hair hangs in ringlets, the dark robe like dress is the same as the last he saw her in, only now he notices the glimmering silver pattern that runs along the fabric. She still dons her many rings and dreamcatcher earrings, and a displeased frown directed at Yoongi. Behind her sits the little tent.

Despite her being the person you’d both been hoping to see; you don’t say anything and neither does Yoongi.

He glances at you for a second before looking back at the woman.

“It’s very rude to throw away what was given so graciously.” She waves a hand at the card that lies face down on the grass.

Yoongi narrows his eyes at the card and sucks his teeth before his gaze returns to the woman. “Yeah? Well, we don’t want it, so, graciously take it back.”

The woman narrows her eyes right back, not looking all too pleased, but Yoongi doesn’t care. He throws the card away and she suddenly appears? Nothing screams cursed more than that.

“.... Please.” Yoongi adds after a thought, his hand tightening around yours.

The shaman gives him a once over, eyes still narrowed before she sighs and waves a hand, beckoning you both forward. She bends down to pick up the card, straightening up to glare at Yoongi before she walks over and into her tent.

Yoongi takes a moment before following, turning to face you.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, eyes searching your face, and he calls your name, equally as soft, squeezing your hand lightly. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m okay.” You say, finally meeting his gaze with a small smile. “Let’s get this over with.”

You lead the way forward, and Yoongi watches the way your hand fits in his, smaller in every sense of the word, your fingers slotted perfectly in the spaces between his. Your hand is warmer now, and Yoongi smiles to himself.

The woman waits patiently at the tent’s entrance, holding the flap open for Yoongi and you to duck under. Like before, you both remove your shoes before stepping up onto the raised carpeted platform. Yoongi only releases your hand once you’re both seated.

“Well then.” The woman begins, sighing through her nose. She places a small cup on the table along with a small white teapot. Yoongi is immediately apprehensive, which the woman notices, “This isn’t for you, child.”

The water she pours is clear and steaming, and all is quiet as she does so. She sips her tea quietly, eyes darting between you both. She places her cup down, smiling, “You two have come quite a long way.” She says with a slight raise of her silver brow.

“We’ve been having dreams.” Yoongi says, not in any way amused, “We want them to stop.”

The dreams have been nothing but a disruption to his daily life, haunting the little hours of sleep he gets and even his waking hours he can’t escape it. He’s noticed that you’re a lot less yourself than he remembers, he doesn’t blame you, after everything, but he’s starting to miss the banter. He misses the normality.

Some days he feels guilty about it, if he hadn’t stopped then, if he wasn’t so unnervingly curious about what this woman had to say, you’d both be well as rain and stuck in the normal routine.

“The dreams aren’t my doing.” The woman says, “Souls hold onto things: regrets, anger, guilt; unfinished business.”

“I thought souls with unfinished business don’t cross over?” You finally speak up, throwing Yoongi a small glance.

Yoongi’s never really believed in that type of stuff, ghosts and things of the like, but you’re right, he knows that much.

“Sometimes.” The woman says, “Like I’ve said, this isn’t the first time for you both. Your souls are just destined to be.” She says this a little too gleefully, clapping her hands together.

Yoongi coughs, trying his best not to choke on air, and he’s quick to say something before it gets awkward. “Right…How do we get the dreams to stop?”

“That’s up to you both. There’s nothing I can do to help you.” She says seriously, picking up her cup and sipping from the tea.

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, but your hand on top of his stops him, and he calms.

“What do you mean by it’s up to us? Is there something we have to do?”

The woman smiles at your question, a twinkle in her eyes. She lifts her hand, the Lover’s card between her fingers, and places it on the table, sliding it back over to Yoongi.

“As I’ve said; souls hold onto things.” She says, “The dreams will stop once you’ve figured it out.”

As it be, the shaman was way less helpful that Yoongi hoped. Her cryptic words had you both silent on the drive back to his apartment, and he mulls over them as he pulls two bottles of water from his refrigerator.

It’s frustrating enough to think about, and Yoongi decides to think on it later, walking back to the living room where he left you.

“I think I understand what she meant...”

Ah, later is now, he supposes.

You look up at him from your spot on the couch, brows slightly furrowed.

“Oh yeah?” He passed you one of the bottles, “what, then?”

You hum, taking the bottle from him and looking off to the side in thought, “Their deaths...I remember feeling really sad and angry, but mostly sad.”

A sudden, unexpected wave of guilt washes over Yoongi. It’s something that doesn’t belong to him, but it affects him all the same.

“She didn’t want him to leave and he did.”

“...Yeah.” Yoongi mutters, sitting next to you. He lifts his thumb to lips, biting through the nail. He pulls too hard and hisses, looking down at his now bleeding finger. He picks at the nail that just hangs there, trying to pull the little strip off the flesh it clings to.

“Stop that.” You smack his hand away, “You’ll make it worse.”

Yoongi watches as you fish out your keychain, a small nail clipper hanging with the keys.

“It’s my fingernail.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, but lets you take his hand anyway.

You carefully clip the offending piece of nail away, and examine the rest of his fingers. You click your tongue against your teeth. “You barely have nails to bite on, you’re not doing yourself any favours.”

Shaking your head you tuck your keychain back into your pocket, “Do you have band aids?”

Yoongi stares at you while you take his other hand to look at, muttering about his terrible habit. The warm sunlight streaming in through the window makes you glow and he can’t look away, even when you lift your head and meets his gaze.

“It doesn’t need a band aid.” You’re quiet for a moment as you stare back, and Yoongi realises that right at this moment, there’s a shift.

Something that wasn’t there before – or perhaps he hadn’t taken notice – pokes a finger into his heart and tugs.

“Yes, it does...” You say softly, sounding a little distracted.

“That’s a waste of a band aid.”

“It isn’t. I’ll put one on so you don’t go at it again.” You release his hand and Yoongi feels like he’s been pulled out of a daydream, blinking up at you as you stand and stare at him expectantly.

“I have nine other fingers, you know.” He can’t help the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and you take his teasing in stride.

“Well, let’s hope you have nine more band aids.” Your smile is all teeth and Yoongi rolls his eyes, telling you he keeps the first aid kit in the bathroom.

“What do you think they’re holding onto?” You ask from the living room two hours later. The TV is a soft murmur in the background, and Yoongi stands in the kitchen making sandwiches because he doesn’t feel like cooking is worth slaving over the stove right now.

He’s making sandwiches.

“How do you usually feel after your dream?” He asks back, “Also, what kind of sandwich do you want?”

“Whatever’s fine,” There’s some shuffling, “And, I don’t know. I’d say sad, but I’m usually terrified, like I’m waking up from a nightmare.” Your voice is softer now and Yoongi can barely hear you, but he catches on pretty quickly.

Between the both of you, Yoongi would say he got off easy. He thinks he’d be much worse if he’d been dreaming the death of his past self on repeat. He honestly wonders how you do it; you’re as strong as they come.

Yoongi spends a few more minutes putting the sandwiches together and cutting them in halves. He puts the plate on a tray with two glasses of apple juice and walks back to the living room. “You said whatever’s fine, so don’t give me any shit for—”

You’re curled up on his couch, hands tucked under your head; asleep. Yoongi sets the tray down on the coffee table and then goes to his room for a blanket. You look peaceful, and Yoongi can only hope you stay that way. He can’t see the sadness in your eyes with them closed and recent, your expression calm and for the first time today you actually look like you’re here. Not off in your head somewhere else.

He throws the blanket over you, making sure you’re well covered before sitting on the floor. He’s finishing his portion of the sandwiches and reaching for a glass of juice when you suddenly jerk.

Yoongi pauses to look at you, and you seem fine for a moment, and then in the next there’s an expression of pain and you’re breathing too harshly.

Yoongi reaches for you, grasps your arm and gently shakes. “Y/n.” He calls, you don’t respond, and he tries again, “Y/n, wake up.”

He’s careful not to lean over you like the last time, lest you spring upwards and he’d be left nursing a headache. He’s at your side, shaking you a little harder now. “Y/n! Wak—”

Your eyes open and then you’re panicking. Your other arm wriggles out of the blanket, Yoongi’s unable to catch it before your hand smacks him right on the nose, forcing him to let go of the other one as you raise to sit up.

“Y—hey! Relax, relax! It’s just me.” He grabs your flailing hands, pinning them at your sides, “Y/n. It’s me.”

You still look like you’re asleep as you watch him with some confusion, eyes glazed and glossy, and Yoongi’s not sure what to do when you call his name softly and the first tear falls. He’s up on his knees and pulling you towards him in an instant.

You cry and Yoongi feels his throat tighten and the telling sting behind his eyes. He holds you to him with a gentle hand at the back of your neck and the other rubbing circles against your back.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and he isn’t sure why, he has nothing to apologize for. There’s that guilt again, swelling in his chest and he can only tighten the hold he has on you. “I’m sorry.”

When you pull away the collar of his shirt is damp, and you muster a smile that looks tired. Yoongi’s looking at you, but he swears he doesn’t see you. Instead, there’s a young woman in silk, she’s sad but she’s smiling.

“Its okay.”

Yoongi blinks and she’s gone, and you’re fussing over his bruised nose and damp shirt. He catches your hand before you can poke at his nose again, he’s not even registering the dull throbbing of it. “Are you okay?”

You don’t meet his gaze and your other hand is wiping at the wet spot you left in his shirt. “There’s snot on your shirt.”

“That’s what soap and water is for; I’ll wash it. Answer the question.”

You nod slowly, “I’m okay.”

Yoongi stares for a moment, fingers tensing just slightly at the back of your neck as he realises that this is how you wake in your apartment – alone. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Your gaze flicker downwards, looking at his nose again, though he’s not quite certain.

“Okay.”

His phone chimes from where he left it on the floor, and he makes sure you’re fine before he turns to retrieve it.

Seokjin: I’m coming over.

“Oh great.” Yoongi mutters, unlocking his phone to send a reply back when the sound of his door unlocking fills the quiet space.

“I’ve been trying to get through to you for days, Yoongi.” Seokjin says from the entryway and Yoongi’s trying to process the fact that he was already outside when he texted. “You don’t call for love or money, you don’t even text! And I thought: Hey, maybe I should check on him so I know he isn’t dea—”

Seokjin pauses at the living room entrance, quiet now, blinking silently at you for a long moment before he looks at Yoongi, and back to you again.

“Am I interrupting?” Yoongi could see the smile he’s failing to hide, before it falls completely, expression shifting. “Were you two fighting again? Why are you crying, Y/n? And you, what happened to your nose?”

“We weren’t fighting.” Yoongi says, and turns to find that you did start crying again. “You said you were okay.”

Neither of you see it, but Seokjin is simply standing there, not too sure what he’s looking at. Eyes darting between the both of you, he feels like he’s missed something.

“I’m fine.” You say softly, smiling.

Seokjin is quiet for a moment longer, then clears his throat. You and Yoongi both look at him, “I’m glad you’re here, though, Y/n. As weird as that is to say...” He whispers the last part more to himself and then shakes his head, “Anyway, get changed! We’re going somewhere!”

“At least it’s not a fair.” You mutter, and Yoongi nods sleepily; the day’s finally catching up to him. He thinks he’d best stay away from those for a long time.

Yoongi’s not too sure why Seokjin insisted you both come out only to drag you two all around the mall for half of the afternoon, where the others had appeared, saying something about you both needing fresh air.

You all sat through a movie— Yoongi barely remembers it – with too salty popcorn and drinks, and now you’re at a table outside the arcade centre in the mall. He could see Jungkook running around the arcade with Taehyung and Jimin at his heels, with an armful of plushies from the claw machine.

Yoongi’s sharing a pizza with you, Seokjin is somewhere about, and Hoseok and Namjoon are laughing at something on the latter’s phone.

Yoongi leans his head against your shoulder, pizza slice still in his hand and chewing lazily. He’s tired, and he’d sleep right there if you’d let him.

“Tired?”

Yoongi answers with a soft grunt, lifting his head to bite at the pizza. Hoseok and Namjoon are quiet amidst the noise of the arcade and the other mall goers.

“Are you guys dating now?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon smacks him, “What? I’m just asking what everyone is thinking! We don’t see them for two weeks and they’re all buddy-buddy!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Jungkook dumps a large clear plastic bag with prizes on the table, “They’ve been like that since they disappeared at the fair.”

“They are right here.” Yoongi grumbles, dropping the pizza crust into the box. “You guys assume too much.”

“Assumptions are possibilities!” Seokjin takes the seat next to you, poking at Jungkook’s bag, “Did you rob the machine or something?”

Yoongi groans, “I’m going home. I’m too tired for this.”

He takes your hand and pulls you after him when he stands, waving to the boys. “See you guys.”

Taehyung and Jimin come out of the arcade as you both pass by.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for that, one that makes sense.”

“Yeah, we stepped into an alternate universe.”

Yoongi takes you back to his apartment, because he doesn’t want you to be alone, and he tells you as much. It’s the reason you give back to him when he told you he’d sleep on the couch.

Now Yoongi’s laying in his bed with his heart somewhere in his throat. You’re an inch and a half away from him and you smell like his shampoo.

“Yoongi, are you awake?”

“No.”

He’s wide awake actually. Sleep just ran away and left him staring at his ceiling. He hears you chuckle softly.

“If I wake you later, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi turns on his side, he can’t see you in the dark and he searches for your hand with his. When he finds it, he squeezes gently, running his thumb softly over your knuckles. “That’ll be okay.”

You shift closer and Yoongi holds his breath. You tuck yourself against him and Yoongi’s heart does a thing; it stalls for a second and then it kicks. He’s not sure what to do with his free hand, so he takes a breath and settles it against the back of your neck, fingers playing with the soft hair at your nape.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“For what?” Yoongi mutters back.

“For not letting me be alone.” You say, and Yoongi softly squeezes your hand. He tilts his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline that lingers. Despite everything, laying like this with you feels natural, like something he’s missed and he wonders which part of him missed it.

“Thank you for doing the same.” Yoongi smiles, “You don’t have to be, ever. We can do this every night if you want to.”

“Really?” You ask, and Yoongi feels you laughing, “Guess we’ll never beat the assumptions.”

Yoongi snorts, “Guess not.”

You’re quiet for a moment and Yoongi thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but you speak quietly again.

“You didn’t tell me what you feel after your dreams.”

“That’s because you fell asleep before I could.” Yoongi closes his eyes, “Do you want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” Yoongi pokes his finger into the side of your neck in warning; he’s too tired for your snark right now.

“Sadness and a lot of guilt.” He feels light a weight lifted off his shoulders as the words leave him, and he sighs, “Y/n?”

You hum and Yoongi squints at the darkness behind you. “Do you think she was right? About our souls, I mean.”

“Which part?” You chuckle, and Yoongi feels you shift. His eyes are adjusted enough to the dark that he can see you.

“About our souls being destined.” It feels silly to ask, considering everything that’s been happening. It makes him think about why you both started out the way you had.

Perhaps, your minds hadn’t been able to process what your souls were feeling, and somewhere, confused it. Maybe that’s why all you both had done was step on each other’s toes.

You hum softly, “It would explain a few things.”

Yoongi gets the feeling that you’re not actually talking to him, but he nods anyway.

“Where does that leave us then?”

“We can see where it takes us?” Yoongi says after a moment, hand moving from the back of your neck to cup your cheek, “Only if that’s okay...”

“Mhm, that’s okay.” He feels you smile and then you’re whispering, “Yoongi?”

“Why are you whispering?” Yoongi whispers back, smiling too. “What is it?”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

When he swallows then it’s audible even to him, “twenty minutes into cuddling and you want to kiss me? What am I gonna do with you?”

You whine his name softly, Yoongi finds it endearing and he relents, “Yes, that’s okay.”

When your lips meet his, it feels as though the earth stopped spinning for a second, and something inside Yoongi had finally returned to the place it was supposed to be.

When Yoongi falls asleep not five minutes afterwards, his sleep was dreamless.

Tagging: @blog-name-idk @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @eoieopda @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna @madbutgloriouspond @dontstoptime @allhobbitstoisengard @eren-fall @xpeachesncream

Sequel tag: @potazaas @yourmomis14eh @petalsofink @princxssly82 @olyd @secfir @borareadsfic @jjkreads

#persphonesorchid #lovin' on you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts x reader #bts fic rec #bts

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allhobbitstoisengard · 11 months

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✨ If you see this, please spread the Kiwi of Luck to have a good day ✨

#really need this luck

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allhobbitstoisengard · 11 months

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angel ‪baby 🏹💖🌸☀️💐✨🌈🐝🌷☁️💫‬

#hobi

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allhobbitstoisengard · 1 year

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(S)creaming, crying, throwing up. 😵‍💫🥵

TRY ME — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. you push your sweet boyfriend a little too far when you threaten to fuck his business partner at dinner. he decides to show both you and mingyu who you belong to.

wc. 4.3k

warnings. [PLEASE READ] established relationship. subby brat!reader, hard dom/brat tamer!cheol, car s2x. heavy degradation (use of bitch), sir kink, light choking, jealousy & possessiveness, dumb!fication, praise, heavy pet name use, unprotected s2x, edging, phone call w/ gyu during s2x, mentions of fucking mingyu several times (oops), male masturbation (mingyu is kind of a voyeur?), creamp!e — MINORS DNI 18+

note. mingyu is always at the scene of the crime, i fear. he kinda got fucked over in this tho, i apologize </3 i’ll make it up to him soon. ANYWAY @jeonghantis i love u, thank u for reading this over and being my biggest supporter 🩵

your feedback is sooo important to me, so comments and rbs are greatly appreciated <3333 mwah, enjoy :p

“did you have a good time acting like a needy little whore?” seungcheol grits, hands gripping the steering wheel of his car harshly. you can practically see the skin of his knuckles losing color thanks to the dim street lights shining through his car.

you sigh, shrugging, “could’ve had more fun if you’d fucked me like i asked.” your words were nothing if not nonchalant. you kept a cool front, but he knew you were acting like this to purposefully push his buttons.

“and you could’ve waited till we got home, but you’re incapable of being good, aren’t you?” you could tell he was getting angrier by the second. he wouldn’t look at you, the tips of his ears were burning red, and he was huffing out nearly every breath. “you just had to embarrass me in front of all of my colleagues?”

you laugh humorlessly, “i would barely consider that as embarrassing. besides, it’s not my fault you couldn’t handle it.”

he scoffs incredulously, finally turning his head to look at you. “handle what? your hand rubbing my dick at the dinner table or slobbering all over my business partner like some bitch in heat when i denied you?” his question makes you bite your lip because, of course, it’s rhetorical. he knows you well enough to recognize you were doing both for his undivided attention.

you flash a smile at him and he shakes his head, averting his attention back to the road. admittedly, he loves it when you get like this, all bratty and overly confident– but, god, you could be such a piece of work.

but you’re almost positive that you love his possessiveness more than he loves when you’re a brat. your usually-cute boyfriend can be so fucking sexy when he wants to be.

“mingyu could’ve fucked me in the bathroom, cheollie, you didn’t need to make us all leave early ‘cus of that.” your lips turn down in a faux pout. “bet he would’ve had a blast and you would’ve gotten all your little clients to make deals with you– could’ve been a win for all of us, no?”

you speak with a substantial amount of confidence laced in your words that it has him throbbing in his slacks out of jealousy and anger and burning desire to make you eat your words. he’s just about had it, ready to pull over and fuck you on the roof of his car. “better shut that pretty little mouth of yours.” he spits. “i’m not fucking playing with you, baby.”

you giggle at the warning, stomach churning with excitement and ruined panties soaking further. “or what? gonna pull over? fuck me like you own me?” you tease, hands gripping the ends of your dress as you shift in the excruciating puddle you’re sitting in.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he holds back a groan, cock twitching because he knows he would. he’d honestly love to. he’d love to fuck you like you’re his little slut– make you cry and apologize for nearly ruining his night.

you shrug, “maybe… but i know you won’t though. maybe i should call gyu, i’m sure he’d fuck me anywhere i wanted. i mean, did you see him? he was so ready to just take me on the table in front of everyone when i asked him.” you feign sadness with a sigh and frown. “you’d never do that– you’re so cruel sometimes, cheollie.”

“mingyu couldn’t handle you.”

“so? it’s obvious you can’t either…” you lie because you know damn well it was you who couldn’t handle seungcheol. not the other way around. “you proved that at dinner.”

he scoffs. “is that so?” you’ve finally set him off. so much so that he’s deterring from his original route home. instead, you notice that he’s pulling into the next deserted lot he sees and parking his car.

he turns off the engine, snapping his head to see you under the harsh lamp post lighting with your pupils blown out and your thighs squeezed together. “get in the back.” he demands, voice hard and stern.

you realize you have him right where you want him, yet you tease anyway. he always fucks you the best when you’re on your absolute worst behavior.

when you don’t move, sitting there staring at him with a small smile on your face and thighs rubbing together slightly, his voice drops an octave. “pretty girl, you better do what i said and get in the back. told you i’m not fucking playing around anymore.”

you shiver, pussy flooding at his voice. you undo your seatbelt but you don’t move any further than that. you’re having a hard time keeping the bratty facade when all your body wants is to submit to him, but you get your next words out somehow. “make me.” you grin, eyes dark with lust and desire.

his jaw ticks at your reply, evidently unhappy with your lack of manners. surely, he didn’t hear you correctly so he cocks his head and utters out, “excuse me?”

you lean in over the center console, hand on his thigh much like it was a couple hours prior at the dinner table. “i said, make me.”

and he did. make you, that is. everything after that was a blur that had your head spinning– you remember some things like how he wrapped his large hand around your throat and how he practically forced you into the backseat as you smiled cheekily at him. you remember how he pressed his lips to your ear while he had your face down and ass up, sweetly whispering ‘cherry’ against it to remind you of your safe word. you couldn’t forget how he ripped your favorite lace panties in half before pushing his fat cock into you.

now he’s fucking you stupid, slamming into you with brute force from behind with one hand holding your wrists against your back and the other on your head, pushing your hot face deeper into the more cool leather.

“this what you wanted? wanted me to be mean to you? wanted me to fuck you and treat you like some cheap whore?” he spits. “it is, isn’t it? pissing me off turns you on?”

you choke on a whine at his words and when you don’t give him a verbal response, he topples over you, drilling himself deeper into your tight cunt, hot breath fanning against your face. “i’m getting a bit tired of you not answering when i ask you a question, baby.” he growls and you swear your eyes roll back at his animalistic-like energy.

“yes,” you get out, choked and breathy.

he shakes his head, gritting, “yes what?”

“y-yes, sir… i wanted this.” you submit whimpering out your words as you’re on the brink of ecstasy. you even think you’re starting to drool on his seats, and cheol notices, of course, but he doesn’t have it in him to reprimand you. especially not when you look this fucked out all for him.

he coos, lips brushing against the bare skin of your shoulder blade. “good girl,” he praises condescendingly. “so pretty when you’re being good f’me.”

cheol has learned, after months of being with you, that his cock always puts you back in your place. it always turns you into his sweetest, respectful, all-around good girl even though sometimes, like tonight, you don’t deserve it.

“and what about mingyu, hmm? what would he think if he saw you taking my cock like a slut in the backseat of my car?” his cock twitches at his own question because, yeah, he’d love for people to see you crying– drooling– for him and his dick.

you can’t be bothered to think about mingyu when all you can think about is his cock filling you to the brim, hitting all the spots that make you weak. you moan out something incomprehensible about how you ‘don’t care,’ and how you ‘wanna cum.’

seungcheol lets out an airy chuckle, head spinning from the way your gummy walls always hug him so tight. “no? you don’t wanna fuck him now?”

“n-never did! just you!” you pant, clenching around him as you grow closer and closer with every thrust.

an animalistic noise bubbles up in the back of his throat before he spits, “that’s ‘cuz you’re just my pretty little bitch, right?”

your eyes roll and your jaw goes slack as you try to nod your head in agreement. “god, yes. ‘m yours.”

“that’s right.” he lets out a soft moan when you tighten around him, “ is my baby close?”

“yes! yes, sir, ‘m so close!” you sob, desperately pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. “gonna cum,” your warning makes cheol stop as he bites back a groan.

“hold it.” he demands and when you let out a miserable cry, he simply shushes you. “‘m sorry, princess, but i can’t always give you what you want, especially not when you’ve been a slutty brat all night– you know that.”

“‘m sorry! ‘m so so so sorry. please keep fucking me. please, please let me cum– i’ll do anything!” you desperately weep, tears free falling, soon to mix with the puddle of drool you’ve left on the seat. you have no pride or shame left as you attempt to push yourself back on to him.

seungcheol smiles triumphantly at the mess he’s reduced you to. he almost feels like his actions are sadistic and, usually, he’d feel bad. usually.

he would never deliberately prolong your orgasm especially after you beg like that, but fuck, you’ve really got him in a mood tonight. acting the way you did tonight… that definitely accounts for some type of punishment.

so his long arm reaches to grab his phone from the center console of his car all the while he’s still fully sheathed inside of your pulsing cunt. his voice drops another octave when his question comes out, “how bad do you wanna cum?”

you’re startled by his deep voice that seems to hold even more dominance than it did moments prior. a shiver runs its way through your body and you stutter out your response. “s-so bad, sir, wanna cum for you so bad.”

“mmm, and you’ll do anything to do so, yeah?”

“yes! anything… please.”

the desperation in your voice evokes a shaky breath from him. he loves you when you’re a menace, but when you’re like this? all fucked out, drooling, and begging for his cock? it nearly turns him into a mess. regardless, no matter how much of a bratty front you put up– no matter how bent out of shape your attitude gets– he’ll always fuck you back into place. you’re at his mercy. you both know it.

“alright, baby,” he starts gently, releasing his grip on your wrist using the free hand to ghost over the skin of your ass before grabbing a handful and massaging the flesh. “can you get on your hands for me?”

you nod eagerly, clenching around him instinctively at how quickly his demeanor can change. you do as he says, weakly moving your body till you’re on all fours with his dick still enveloped in your heat.

cheol unlocks his phone with his free hand, searching for his recent contacts. he places the phone next to your hand and you furrow your eyebrows at the action.

the words ‘kim mingyu’ read on the screen and he smirks when you crane your head to look back at him.

“w-what… what do you want me to do?” you stutter, though you’re sure you don’t really want to hear the answer to your question.

his heavy hands continue to knead at your ass while he responds, voice barely above a whisper, “apologize to mingyu and i’ll let you cum.”

“but… won’t he… won’t he know what we’re doing?” you try to reason, but seungcheol knows. he knows that mingyu will know the second you utter your first word to him.

that’s why he’s dead set on doing this. he needs mingyu to hear you getting wrecked on his cock– needs mingyu to know that you are his.

“don’t worry about that, baby. you’ll call him anyway, won’t you?” he slowly pulls an inch out of you before pushing back in, just barely fucking you.

you whimper, nodding your head, “okay, okay. i will.”

“good girl.” he praises, reveling in the way you tighten around him.

your hand shakily presses the call button and you watch his name reappear on the dimmed screen. you press the speaker button and the sound of rings fill the car, but it doesn’t take long before he answers, his strained voice filling the silence.

“hello?” mingyu asks, clearing his throat.

“hey mingyu,” cheol greets and you feel your entire body heat and tense up, a sharp exhale leaving your lips. “did you get home alright?”

“cheol…” you whimper lowly to keep the man on the phone from figuring you out but end up wincing at the tightening grip on your ass. you take it as a warning, biting your lip to keep from saying anymore.

you tune out the conversation, trying to think of anything else but the burning fire in the pit of your tummy and the fact that cheol’s on the phone with his business partner whom you threatened to call up and fuck a mere 20 minutes ago.

it isn’t until he slowly starts moving that you push your face into the leather seats to mask a whine– though it obviously doesn’t work much because you’re sure mingyu is well aware that you’re… present.

“yeah, she’s here,” seungcheol smiles wickedly to himself as he replies to mingyu asking the obvious. “actually that’s why i called. she wanted to talk you– apologize for what happened earlier– isn’t that right, Y/N?”

you whimper again, suddenly changing your mind and shaking your head ‘no.’ this is way too embarrassing.

cheol can’t resist the chuckle that comes out of his mouth. you’re cute. cute in the way your body betrays you when your pussy clenches tightly around him at the offer. cute when you say you don’t want to when your body says the exact opposite.

“gimme a sec,” he says as his hand moves to press the mute button. “c’mon, don’t you wanna cum, baby?” he coos, snapping his hips against your ass at a steady pace.

“i do!.. i do, b-but he’s gonna know if y-you keep going.” you pant. “‘n i-i can’t talk to him like this.”

“oh, well maybe you should’ve thought of that, baby,” he says and you can hear the faux pout in his words. “if you wanna finish, you’ll have to apologize to him for being such a needy little thing all night.”

you shudder and nod defeatedly as seungcheol continues to thrust in and out of you. your hand moves to unmute the phone, taking a shaky inhale before you speak.

you try your best to sound as normal as possible, but your words still come out breathy and stuttered, “h-hello,”

“Y/N?” mingyu calls, voice lilting a bit out of surprise.

you involuntarily clench again at how taboo this whole situation is. how is cheol so okay with this? how will he ever face mingyu again? you know for a fact you won’t be able to without thinking about cheol’s cock stretching you out, but… then again, maybe that’s exactly what seungcheol wants.

“hi, gyu,” you greet, the nickname loosely slipping past your lips. you feel seungcheol’s hands grip at your waist again. rougher this time. like he wants to tell you something– stop being so friendly– just with his actions.

your eyes screw shut and your teeth dig into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip to omit the whiny sound from leaving your lips.

it doesn’t go unheard, of course. you can practically hear your boyfriend’s smirk when mingyu asks, “are… are you okay?”

you laugh breathily, a whine dying on the tip of your tongue when seungcheol moves a bit faster. “yeah! no, i’m good! i-i’m great.” you just need to get this apology over with so you can hang up and finally get what you want. “listen, gyu, i– oh, fuck.”

clearly, seungcheol couldn’t let it be that easy, slamming into you like he was minutes earlier. the tip of his cock rams into your sweet spot and you find yourself barely holding on, seconds away from crumbling if he doesn’t let up.

mingyu’s mouth runs dry and you know he’s finally pieced it all together when he exhales sharply, “Y/N? are you sure you’re okay?”

seungcheol rolls his eyes. he topples over you again, plush lips pressing against one of your heated ears, “answer him.”

“yes, yes…” you pant. “i-i wanted… to say sorry.”

“tell him why you’re sorry.” cheol’s hot breath fans against your ear again. his thrusts don’t falter in this process, effectively hitting your spot over and over and over.

it’s driving you crazy. beyond crazy, honestly. it’s driving you absolutely mad. so mad that you don’t even care about the sob that comes out of your mouth when you apologize to mingyu again.

“‘m sorry! sorry for ruining dinner ‘n sorry for being needy and ask– fuck– asking you to fuck me to- to rile cheol up.” you cry, tears slipping down your face as the knot in your tummy gets tighter and tighter. “i’m so sorry, please. please forgive me.”

seungcheol smiles against your ear, biting back a chuckle at your desperation. he knows the apology was more for him than mingyu.

mingyu shudders straight into the mic before stuttering, “Y/N… it’s… fine, please–”

“cheol,” you sob, cutting him off and it startles both seungcheol and the man on the phone. it’s apparent that you’ve lost the ability to be discreet and your boyfriend takes pride that he and his cock are the reason for that.

but it’s when you cry out the other man’s name– a whiny ‘gyu’– that his jaw sets and his teeth grind together.

“so fucking dirty,” cheol spits, sitting back up. his hips snap against your ass vigorously and it’s like both of you have forgotten about poor mingyu who’s still on the line and now hearing every word– every little thing. “moaning out his name while i’m fucking you like this? you really want him to know how much of a slut you are?”

mingyu lets out a muffled groan into his phone, hand slipping to palm at his clothed cock– which has been all hard and achy since you whispered into his ear at dinner– his other clamped over his mouth. he’s trying to keep his sounds at bay, trying to fight the moan that bubbles up in the back of his dry throat, but his name falling from your pretty lips like that? it’s making it impossible.

he knows the two of you have forgotten all about him because he can hear the vulgar words his partner spits and the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against what he presumes to be your unbelievably soaked cunt. it’s driving him nuts. you’ve been driving him nuts all fucking night.

and it’s true. you and seungcheol pay no mind to the phone– you’re too busy losing your mind and cheol is too busy making it happen– it’s like he doesn’t even exist.

your walls hug his cock tightly and it elicits a deep chuckle from the man behind you. “look at that. you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” he says breathily. “just like you’re made to take my cock. isn’t that right, baby? made just for me?”

you respond with a moan, arms giving out on you as you return to your previous position– one arm limply hanging off the seat while the other grips at the door’s cup holder– your face buried into the leather seat.

seungcheol doesn’t tolerate that response, though, hand lacing into your hair and pulling your face off the seat. “answer me,” he grits, roughly tugging at your locks. “or i’m pulling out.”

you panic at the thought of being left all high and dry, incessantly shaking your head in his tight grip. “y-yes, sir, yes! for you– made for you.” you sob in a mix of pain and pleasure, back arching while his cock finally hits your cervix. “cheol– cheol, i’m– fuck, ‘m gonna cum! p-please, can i?”

and it’s when mingyu hears seungcheol’s given name– when it’s followed by your desperate pleas for release– that he can’t hold it in anymore, letting out a loud, drawn out moan. he’s quick when pulling his cock out of his slacks, spitting into his palm, and working himself rather aggressively. it’s like he’s chasing his own release, too.

seungcheol grunts in confusion at the deep moans, but then it comes back to him. mingyu never hung up. an evil smirk plays onto his plush lips, “oh-ho, you hear that, sweet girl? sounds like gyu stuck around to hear you cum all over my cock.”

and mingyu moans again, a hushed, “fuck,” slipping past his lips. you can almost hear how fast his hand moves, how unbelievably eager he is.

your boyfriend moans, giving you sharper thrusts. he pants out his next words, “that’s so dirty, mingyu… didn’t know you were into that.”

and mingyu wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, but he can’t form the words when all he can think about is the sound of your pornographic moans and how he’s needily bucking into his tight fist, wishing he was in seungcheol’s position.

you, on the other hand, could care less that mingyu is on the other side of the line, truly. you’re practically at your breaking point, and if you don’t release sometime soon, you may break.

“cheol, please– please, please, i-i can’t–” you gasp out, pussy tightening around him and squeezing him for all he’s worth. “oh, my god, i’m–”

seungcheol shushes you, “‘s alright, baby, you can cum in a sec.”

and just as you’re about to let go, cheol’s hand grabs at his whiny phone and ends the call, sending mingyu to what you presume is his doom.

“i’m the only one who gets to have you like this.” he grunts, hips stuttering a bit. you can tell he’s close, too. the way he huffs out his words and his movements get sloppy. “cum for me, baby, come on.” he whispers.

and you do. your orgasm, powerful and blinding, washes over you seconds after he gives you the okay. your body convulses and your back arches as the knot finally unravels in your tummy. your eyes roll, jaw dropping and letting out the loudest cry of his name.

“fuck, that’s it, baby. that’s my fuckin’ girl.” he coaxes, fucking you through your orgasm, though your vice-like cunt makes it nearly impossible. “gonna fill you up just like you need, yeah? just take it all for me.”

you whine, still recovering from your euphoric high, yet you still give him a broken nod.

he groans loudly, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he’s nestling himself deep and stilling inside of you. his cock twitches and, before you know it, warm cum floods your pussy, effectively filling you up just as he promised.

the post-orgasm haze lingers over both of you for a while, but seungcheol is the first to speak up, a twinge of guilt filling him when he sees you’re still shuddering and twitching underneath him.

his voice hoarse, “baby, are you good? was i too rough?”

“mmm, ‘m good, i liked it. you’re so hot.” you mindlessly admit, words breathy and muffled.

he scoffs, hand soothing over your body. he’s always so soft after he fucks you regardless of how mad or upset he is. “so you did all of it on purpose, hm?” he asks knowingly and when you give him a sleepy giggle, he rolls his eyes. “you’re annoying.”

“it was worth it… it felt so good, cheollie,” you admit. “hope you’re not too mad, you know you’re the only one for me.” the reassurance slips from your lips and seungcheol can tell it’s genuine.

“baby, you know you can just be normal and ask if you want to be fucked like that, right?”

“it’s more fun this way,” you tell him, shameless with your words. “i literally thought i was going to cum when you ripped my panties. i’m serious, you’re so fucking hot.”

he snickers at your blunt words, “i think you’re still cockdrunk, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and we can go home. think i got some napkins in here.”

you sigh, nodding your head, “can we roll the windows down? smells like sex in here.”

he laughs, taking in the fact that it is now stuffy in his precious, fogged up car, but you were right. it was so worth it. the sex was just as good for him as it was for you, if not better.

when he pulls out, he makes sure your ass is still raised up so his seed doesn’t spill out as quickly to avoid the mess it’ll make while he scavenges for napkins in the glove box. he does eventually get you cleaned up, handling you gently and whispering about how well you did, much like he does every other time.

once you’re clean, he gets you to turn and look at him. he smiles at your disheveled state, “well, you look like you had the time of your life.” he says sarcastically.

“i did, actually.” you say as a matter-of-factly. “i feel kinda bad for mingyu, though… i didn’t want him to get caught in the crossfire.”

cheol rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, “he’ll be fine, i’ll text him right now.”

when seungcheol grabs his phone that now resides on the floor of his car, he sees that there are already a few missed texts from mingyu.

“he said he’s fine.” seungcheol assures, though you can tell by the smug smirk on his face that mingyu most definitely did not say it was fine. “don’t worry about him.”

kim mingyu

hello?!

???

dude

not cool.

choi seungcheol

sorry, man. call dropped. see you monday.

kim mingyu

??????

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor @jihoontea

#i got no words #my head?#empty #only Cheol #svt seungcheol

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allhobbitstoisengard · 1 year

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Spare change, anyone got some.....spare change?

Ignore the title lmao (bls don't)

Okay! Hello everyone! I'm making this post to request something of y'all, which of course, you have no obligation to if you aren't comfortable!!

Things have been extremely tough for me personally, and it's a very long story, but I won't take up much of your time. This isn't the way I'd like to go about this, honestly, I wanted to set up a ko-fi account like everyone else. Most cash apps ( and I mean like the big boys PayPal and all the others) don't work where I live. Even though my country is on the supported list, it's impossible to get anything through it. So a ko-fi account was out of my options.

So I did a little digging around, and found something that's a temporary solution but works for me. This link Here will direct you to a site where I have a campaign going. All the details about the campaign is on there! (They had me add a photo of myself on there .... Y'all saw nothing 💀...)

Now, remember you have no obligation to donate, but it would be greatly appreciated. Please share this post to get the word around, thank you for your time! I love y'all ❤️

tagging some moots to share the word: @xpeachesncream @matchy6812 @eoieopda @luaspersona @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @yoongiphoria

#signal boost #boosting #love you dani #emergency funds #urgent funds

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allhobbitstoisengard · 1 year

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NOPE. NO. NO THANK YOU. THAT ENDING NEVER HAPPENED!!

Please THE WAY HE JUST KEPT ON APOLOGIZING! AND HE STILL DID IT!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I have a THEORY! I know you left the ending kind of open for a reason without showing who oc ends up with in the end so that we can run with it. But personally, I think it's Yoongi. AND HERE ME OUT.

When Seokjin (😭😭😭😭😭) would take her out to meet the "candidates" he said he'd take her to people she was familiar with, people in her circle, right??

I know that Yoongi and her are best friends but there's times where it seems like something else and I refuse to believe she went off with any one else other than Yoongi in the end.

Also, I LOVE the way Seokjin's like he's seen love and he's seen heartbreak enough to know what it feels like. And the fact that he was literally gonna bite Hyunjin's - (stray kids everywhere all around the world ✊🏽) - head off about being with a human and he went and did the same thing too! He ate his own words in the end...but like he's said, he's not like Hyunjin, and couldn't bring himself to stay. 😭 IM BIG SAD

Cupid’s On Holiday - KSJ

Summary: You don’t get it, you’re a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re smart, you’re tidy, hell you’d give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend’s competitive archery teammate is telling you he’s Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You’re not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove ‘em.

Genres: Angel!Au | Fluff, angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers, humor.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, protected sex), Oc’s a bit of a downer but hey! Aren’t we all sometimes! If I missed anything, let me know!

Rating: Mature (Minors, please, go away.)

Word count: 17k

Masterlist

Notes: A little late, but I made it before Saturday! I really really hope you guys enjoy this!! My contribution to @raplinesmoon , @kithtaehyung and @joheunsaram ’s Catch Of The Century Collab! It’s been a bit of a struggle to write, so show it some love! Also, you won’t understand what I mean yet, but emotions are valid and you should feel them. Thank you to THE LOMFL @xpeachesncream for beta'ing for me, Nikki I love you so so much! Thank you for being there when I screamed about this fic when lightening struck and hyping me up always. Ly babie ❤️❤️❤️

Don’t forget to leave feedback guys!! I’ll love to hear your thoughts ( or crazy emotional rambles) Enjoy!!

Serendipity was in full swing; music blasting so loud you can feel it in your chest. Fellow club goers crowding the dance floor in a wild flurry of limbs and ill-timed dancing. You can barely keep up with the conversation Yoongi and Jungkook are having, you’re not even sure how they’re hearing each other over the music.

Clubs typically aren’t your thing, not one for the deafening music or the people who never knew when they had too much to drink. Tonight, though, you made an exception, meeting a friend of a friend for a date you were excited to be on. You thank your lucky stars you had the foresight to grovel at Yoongi’s feet to come with you, lord knows you’d be making your grand escape through the club’s back door by now.

“I mean, it’s not that hard, right?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Dude. Grow up.”

You chuckle into your whiskey as Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving his hand to direct your attention back to him and not on the way Jungkook was snickering. The flashy strobe lights waving mindlessly in the club catch on the silver of Yoongi’s bracelet and he rights his leaning frame, propping an arm on the table between you both.

“All I’m saying is…” He thinks hard for a moment, tilting his head to squint at the ceiling. You could tell he’s gone above his limit tonight; the rosiness of his cheeks visible in the odd flashes of light. “Man up. When he gets back, tell him he’s an ass and we can go home.”

“You know she’d rather die.” Jungkook mutters, draining the end of his beer, adding the empty bottle to the rest that was steadily growing the longer you all sat there. “Too nice.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Yoongi says, brows furrowed as though he’s just heard the most distressing news in his life, “I’ll do it for you. I swear if I have to sit here and listen to that guy ramble on about himself any more I’ll actually walk out into the street and stand there.”

“I don’t find you funny.” You deadpan, kicking your foot against his shin. He only whines, reaching for your bottle of water instead of brandishing his silver tongue at you.

Yoongi takes a long drink, eyes scanning the crowd, “He’s taking a long time to get back from the bathroom.”

Jungkook lifts himself partly out of his seat – having more vantage with his height – and looks around too. “Fou-oh…”

“What?” You perk up, following Jungkook’s gaze, but you’re suddenly blocked by Yoongi, who you didn’t even see get up. He shifts every time you’d move to look around him. You open your mouth to protest, but Yoongi’s hands land firmly on your shoulders.

“How about we just go? It’s late.” The furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw tells a lot; he’s seen something you’d be better off not seeing at all and you simply agree. You take the hand that he offers, sliding out of the booth and Jungkook follows with a frown.

When you all get outside, Yoongi throws an arm over your shoulder, and you’re grateful for his warmth as the late night air nipped at your skin. You sigh, watching mist dance on your exhale, ducking your head a little to look at your feet. It’s quiet between you three, and you realize belatedly that you should’ve asked Hoseok to come too. He’s always good at distracting you.

Of course, you should have expected it to go this way. Another failed date that’s left you feeling worse than before, you think you’d might as well give up now, resign yourself to growing old and having fifty cats to keep you company. It’s been this way for a while, your last actual relationship being exactly three years and six months ago – not that you’re counting or anything.

Keep reading

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

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You'd both sat in that cafe for a while, and Namjoon thinks about a lot of things, like, if you'd be with him here another year from now, asking if the seat opposite him was taken. Like the first time. Firsts, how many firsts would he have with you until there aren't any left, until they become repetitive but never boring because it's you, and him too. How many seconds zip by within the minutes that line the hours he would spend with you, and he counts, he's been counting. Since the first time, Namjoon's never stopped counting them, he's lost count of course, but that doesn't matter.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he's so - you- they!!! 😭😭😭

Paper Planes - KNJ

Summary: Namjoon likes to think you’d both floated into this, floated downwards from a place where it was only him and only you. Meeting at some point to float down together, gently, like a drizzle.

Word count: 924

Notes: Drowning in Joon rn, so here, have a drabble ^^ plz i love him so much, got sad halfway through writing this and it’s just fluff I swear. He’s so soft and I just love him so much 😭 Happy reading! Also, a little self promotion ^^ I started a Yoongi series, check it out if you’re into fantasy fics!! Please :<

Check out my Masterlist :)

The cafe is crowded today, everyone either taking shelter from the pelting rain outside or getting their fix of coffee for the afternoon rush.

“Is this seat taken?”

Namjoon looks up from his book, squinting a bit because his contacts have been bugging him lately, heart reaching his throat when his eyes finally focuses.

It’s you.

Namjoon likes to admire things, he likes to stand and stare at it until he can’t anymore. Beauty is fleeting and therefore should be appreciated within the small moments, and appreciate you, he does.

He laughs because, that was corny, and you do too, because it’s not the first time. The first time, Namjoon was a mess, spilling his coffee over the table and apologizing like a maniac because it dripped off the table and into your lap. And he was there, kneeling on the floor trying to sop up his mess with a handful of napkins that only fell apart and you were apologizing just as much.

That was a year ago, in this very cafe, crowded as it is now and still raining. Namjoon’s had the honour of laying his eyes upon you many times since then, even woke up next to you more times than he could count on his clumsy hands. Every time, it’s the same, though. He’d see you and his heart would stutter enough to be worrisome, there’d be little fluttery things in his stomach doing a tap dance on his nerves. His hands would sweat and he’d scratch at his neck, nervous.

He slides his half empty styrofoam cup away from his hands as you sit, carefully, so it wouldn’t spill. Sometimes Namjoon thinks it’s a curse, to be clumsy in a way that no one could explain; always breaking something, or knocking something over. You’ve always been patient, even when he accidentally smashed your lucky cup, and Namjoon fretted so badly, because, it was your lucky cup. He’d went out and bought you a new one and called it lucky so you wouldn’t get bad luck. He doesn’t think his luck is any good, so he’d let you say it out loud instead.

You laugh every time you look at that cup.

Your hands are cold from the wind and rain outside, and Namjoon rubs his over yours to warm them up and he listens to you talk about whatever came to your pretty little head. You escape him for a minute, over to the counter to order something warm to drink, and Namjoon watches you like a love struck fool as you joke around with the barista.

You come back with more than you left for, sweet tooth prevailing as you bite into a donut, icing smearing the corner of your lips. Namjoon wipes it away with his thumb, reaching over from his side of the table, still managing to knock his cup over, though empty now, you still both laugh. You offer, but he declines, you’re sweet enough as is.

You’d both sat in that cafe for a while, and Namjoon thinks about a lot of things, like, if you’d be with him here another year from now, asking if the seat opposite him was taken. Like the first time. Firsts, how many firsts would he have with you until there aren’t any left, until they become repetitive but never boring because it’s you, and him too. How many seconds zip by within the minutes that line the hours he would spend with you, and he counts, he’s been counting. Since the first time, Namjoon’s never stopped counting them, he’s lost count of course, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re giggling at something, and Namjoon hears a church bell ringing somewhere in the distance. Not very far off if he sits and thinks about it some more, white flowers and a white dress. A spring day, someday, when the weather is nice and the sun is out shining. He’d stop counting and start again then, new chapter, new seconds and minutes and moments until he can’t count them anymore. The moment when you two become three along the way and those hours become a lifetime and that stops, too.

“What are you thinking about?” You lean forward, a tilt of your head and a small smile. Namjoon’s been quiet, staring at your hand in his and he shrugs, looking out at the rain that’s died down to a drizzle, little flecks of water that float softly from the sky instead of falling. It makes him smile, thinking of you and how you’d both ended up here, floating in the wave of the love that led him to you. Not falling, becuase falling inpliles that you must hit the ground, and it hurts when you fall. Namjoon’s fallen enough in his life to know that. You scrape your knees and bruise your hands and you may even break something, too.

Namjoon likes to think you’d both floated into this, floated downwards from a place where it was only him and only you. Meeting at some point to float down together, gently, like a drizzle.

“Paper planes.” Namjoon brushes his lips across your knuckles, and he wonders if you’d stay with him long enough for these seconds to stretch into moments, and moments into forever. He trusts that you would, becuase he certainly isn’t going anywhere.

You would, though, Namjoon knows, and you’d continue floating gently, downwards into eachother where you’re always meant to be. You shake your head, smiling, telling him that he’s silly, knowing, you know him well enough.

Tagging: @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @btsstan12 @doneimnida @xpeachesncream @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @here2bbtstrash @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard

#persphonesorchid #namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #bts fic recs #dani this is just 🥺🥺🥺🥺#istg i fear the day we get only angst from you #no fluff #just angst #i know I'll be crying

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

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Oh joonie 😢 his vlives has me worried, he just looks drained. He needs a break, and a nice long hug 😭

Lover's Touch - KNJ

Warnings: Sad Joon (please give this man a hug 🥺) angst

Notes: Just showing Joonie some love because he deserves it! My boy needs all the hugs and kisses 🥺 I just wanna wrap him up in a fluffy blanket and keep him all warm 😭 I really hope he has someone out there to take care of him when he can't.

Check out my Masterlist for more content :)

"Hey, you okay?" You brush your fingers through the hair at Namjoon's nape. He's been sitting in his office since he came home from the studio, pouring over more lyrics and complicated beat tracks that you couldn't even begin to understand.

"Yeah." He says softly, you know he's lying. He sucks his teeth and scratches at a string of words in the notebook near his hands with a little more force than necessary. He sighs and you frown, moving your hand up to lightly scratch at his scalp with your fingernails.

Namjoon sighs again, loudly this time, and leans his head forward and away from your hand. You take a step back as he turns his office chair around. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you towards him a little. "M'tired."

"I know." Hand back in his hair, you peer down at him, "Take a break? I can make you something to eat."

"I can't, they need this song finished by tomorrow evening." His voice is muffled by your clothes, and you take note of his tone. Namjoon has been going none stop since the news of solo works came up, working hard as he would always. You hate that he never seems to slow down, and even when he does, he's still working, still going as though he had an endless supply of energy.

You glance at the time on his laptop, squinting to see the tiny numbers, "It's eight pm. You're taking a break."

He sighs, and you feel the action more than you hear it, his exhale warm against your tummy. "In a second. Just...just stay here for a bit."

"Okay." You stand there as long as Namjoon needed, running your fingers through his hair. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are red rimmed, a rogue tear spilling from one corner. You catch it with your thumb, "Oh, baby."

With a soft sigh you pull away from him, taking his hand and tugging lightly and Namjoon stands without complaint, following you like child as you lead him away from his work. You take him across the hall, into your shared bedroom, and sit him down on the bed for a moment. "Stay here okay? I'll run you a bath. Be right back."

Once the bathtub was filled and swirling with steam and soothing oils, you go back to Namjoon, who you found lying on his side, hugging the life out of your pillow. It wasn't often you'd see him in this state, but when you do, you always make sure to take care of him. He does the same for you on your worst days, and everyone else in the way that they needed. Even if they just need someone to sit quietly with them for a couple moments and not say a word.

Namjoon follows you back to the bathroom, sniffling softly, his hand in yours loosely. You help him out of his clothes and into the bathtub, where he sits quietly, watching the water. You sigh softly, "Wanna talk about it?"

"Can you come in?" He asks, his voice bouncing off the tiles. You strip out of your clothes as he makes room for you, shifting forward as you settle behind him. His warm back meets your front and you rub your hands over his arms soothingly, hoping that your touch helps at least a little.

"Talk to me, Joon. What's on your mind?"

He leans his weight against you but you don't mind it, hands continuing their motion. His head rests against your collarbone and you wait patiently until he's ready, letting him gather his thoughts in that head of his that's no doubt swarming with worries.

"Things are just..." His voice rumbles against your chest, warm water lapping at your skin when he shifts his hand to take yours. He plays with your fingers for a moment, quiet again, before he draws in a breath. "I'm just tired. Not physically, just tired. I'm trying to write but the lyrics aren't coming to me and I feel like everything is too much. I don't want to disappoint anyone."

"You're not going to, baby." You say softly, squeezing his fingers gently, "I know things are hard for you right now, and it feels like you're wading through mud not going anywhere. It'll get better. Nobody is gonna blame you for taking a break, last I checked you're human, not a machine. You can't keep going without burning out."

He's too quiet and you know he's crying again, his little sniffles and shaky inhales tells you as much. He's trying his best not to completely break down, but he needs too, sometimes the best way to begin getting over something is to cry it out.

"It's okay, Joon. If you need to cry, just cry."

The sob that leaves him rattles you, the sound of his pain etching itself into your brain and sinking into your bones. You can't help your own tears, unable to wipe them away with one of your hands in Namjoon's tight grip and the other trying to keep him together. You whisper all the comforting words your mind can muster, it's all you can do while he shatters and you hope they're enough to stop the pieces of him from scattering. Though, you would spend the entire night and the rest of your life picking them up and gluing them back together until he's whole.

When he calms his grip loosens as does the rest of him as the tension fades from his limbs. You press a kiss to the mole under his jaw, "Feeling better?"

He barely nods, red rimmed eyes closed tightly. He doesn't answer when you tell him that the water's gone cold and it doesn't bother you.

Once you're both out of the bath and in warm matching pajamas, Namjoon finally speaks again, trying to peek at you through the motion of your hands drying his hair with a towel.

"Thank you." His hair flops forward to cover his eyes, still slightly damp and you smile, running the towel through his hair again because the last thing he needs is a cold. Strong hands grip your waist gently, not letting you get far enough away to hang the towel up.

"You don't have to thank me, baby." You step back when he allows to kiss his nose and then his lips softly, he pouts when you pull away, "Okay, bed time. You need to rest."

"Yes ma'am."

You let him settle first, before crawling in after him. You're the big spoon tonight, because that's what he needs, and he's quick to fall asleep, your 'I love you' receiving a barely there response. You chuckle at his snores, placing a soft kiss at the mole on the back of his neck, and you can only hope he feels better by morning.

Even if he doesn't, you'd be right there to pick up the pieces.

Tagging: @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @btsstan12 @madbutgloriouspond @here2bbtstrash @xpeachesncream @doneimnida @allhobbitstoisengard

#kim namjoon #knj #bts fic rec

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

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Mark Of The Arcane || Character Index ||

↣ Part: Character Index

Notes: This character index for my upcoming Yoongi series doesn't provide much information on the series itself, just a bit about the boys and MC 😃 where they reside and their Arcanes. You'll see that some refer to Hoseok's journal, which, you shouldn't worry about just yet :) enjoy! Thank you Nikki for always listening to me go off about this lol, love you! @xpeachesncream ❤️❤️

Read the Teaser

Masterlist

Jax: Descendants of Incra.

Y/n L/n: Princess of Jax, Wind Arcane.

Hereditary Arcane of the wind, passed only to the royal family of Jax. The direct descent of The First, Incra.

Yoongi: Prophecy's Child, Light Arcane.

The saviour of Valerem, who's been out of place since birth. His arrival to Valerem was prophesied by The First Seer, hundreds of years before. His Arcane was only ever seen once, wielded by The First, Zephyr. The power of his Arcane was created for one purpose, though, the origins of it is still yet to be uncovered. [See: The Firsts, written by Unknown.]

Seokjin: Half Pixie, Child of the Court - Princess' guardian.

Seokjin doesn't carry an Arcane, because of his pixie heritage. His mother was a pixie, his father, an unnamed, unknown human male. Because pixie magic and arcane magic cannot mix, a child can posess only one attribute. His arcane magic was cancelled out by his pixie magic.

Taehyung: Storm chaser, Child of the Court.

Taehyung's Arcane is quite rare, as not many receive it at birth. His Arcane is difficult to control, very volatile and he must wear a limitation charm at all times. [Not much is known of Taehyung's Arcane, see Hoseok's journal for reference]

Kadïr - West of Jax, City of Opal.

Namjoon: Seer, Prince of Kadïr, Water Arcane.

The Seers are rare, not many of them left, unfortunately. Information on what exactly Namjoon does outside of his Princely duties is not available. The Seers are quite secretive, therefore, not many know that Namjoon is one. His Arcane, also needs further study [see Hoseok's journal for reference]

Hoseok: Healer, descendant of Yindu, Earth Arcane.

Hoseok currently resides in Jax, as a healer of the royal family. He's the last descendant of Yindu of The Firsts. One of the strongest healers because of his linage.

Olas- The North, Frostbane.

Jungkook: Child of Olas Court, Ice Arcane.

There isn't much to tell of him, as he's not yet involved. His Arcane is a subfield of the water Arcane. More to be added on him soon [see Hoseok's journal for reference]

Hendris - East of Jax, Kingdom of Lumina.

Jimin: Pixie, Prince of Lumina, Potions Master, weapon specialist.

Jimin, prince of Lumina currently resides in Daasir, a village south of Jax. He creates potions, weapons, and is the provider of Taehyung's limitation charm. He doesn't really want to take up the burden of ruling a kingdom, and therefore stays as far away as he can from Lumina.

Tags: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @btsstan12 @quirkybtsarmy @madbutgloriouspond @doneimnida @allhobbitstoisengard @amon-rei @dontstoptime

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

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New Beginnings - myg x reader

Notes: You guys can thank @bangtansmauyeondan for this little idea! Just hooray for me getting a new job - finally!!! And also an excuse to write Yoongi being whipped af - hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist :)

Yoongi's phone vibrates on the nightstand, set that way so his alarm doesn't wake you too early. He's already awake, a full two minutes before it started, and he's sitting at the end of the bed, running a hand through the mess of his dark hair.

He turns the alarm off, it's 5am, and he's tired - still sleepy, wanting nothing more than to curl up in the warmth of the covers you stole and fall asleep again. But Yoongi knows if he did that, neither of you would wake on time.

You'd had a hard enough time falling asleep as it is, too excited to find rest before your first day of your new job. Quite a big day for you, Yoongi knows you've been waiting a long while to get something anywhere. Jobs are hard to find, surprising with the amount out there, it's either you're too qualified or not enough, and he's been there with you for each time you got shot down to help you hold out a little bit longer. He was right there when you'd gotten the call, he knew it was something good when excitement mixed your tone.

You shouted once the call had ended and Yoongi dropped his phone on the coffee table when you'd nearly knocked him off the couch when you reached for him. He's too happy for you to be bothered with the crack on his phone screen, a safekeep of your brightest moment that day.

You're wrapped up in the sheets, he could just see the top of your head. Getting up at five am is worth it for once, even though Yoongi's eyes are burning because he spent most of the night trying to get you to relax and get to sleep. He knows you well enough to know that you'd wake up late, despite being so excited to go out and start working again. You'd also skip breakfast to make it there on time, and Yoongi is not having that.

He takes one last glance at you before getting up and stretching, rubbing his tummy as he drags his feet out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He'd had the forethought to set things out last night, to make things a little easier for himself. He'd made your lunch while you were sleeping, already set aside in the silver lunch box on the top shelf in the fridge.

He takes out a couple of eggs and bread for toasting, and the leftover kimbap from last night's dinner. Turn on the kettle to boil because he'd be damned if he doesn't have coffee right now.

He moves as quietly as he can around the kitchen, getting breakfast together before he goes to wake you. Sipping on his coffee while the bread toasts and thinking about what he'd do once you're gone off to work. He's gotten so used to having you around all day, finding things to keep you occupied, letting you chat his ear off when you found something new and exciting and he'd pretend to be annoyed by your constant blabbering. Taking naps at ten in the morning because time is a construct and he's sleepy damn it.

He'd definitely miss you wanting to try some new baking recipe you found on the internet because you were bored and him taste testing it because he honestly has no choice but to. He'll miss cuddling on the couch, barely paying attention to whatever's on the tv in favour of getting his hands under your shirt.

It may be a bit dramatic, it's not like he's not going to see you when you get home later. A couple of hours may seem like an eternity right now, but he'll survive. He thinks.

Yoongi's eyes flicker over to the clock on the wall and run over his mental checklist as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Just as he left you, you're still wrapped up in the sheets, he's pretty sure you haven't moved from that spot.

He walks around the bed, hands searching for an opening to your snug cocoon. The warmth of your skin meets his cold hand and he softly touches as to not startle you out of sleep.

"Hey..." the you shaped lump barely stirs at his soft call and he tries again, tapping lightly at your leg, "Baby."

"Hm?" Your reply was sleepy, soft, not quite awake yet.

Yoongi chuckles, tugging at the edge of the sheet and pulling it down past your head. You blink sleepily at him, looking a little confused even as you smile.

"What time is it?" It's a struggle to bring your hand up from where it was to rub at your eyes, Yoongi notices, lost somewhere in the folds of the sheets.

"It's five-thirty." Yoongi lifts a hand to brush away the hair that blocks your eyes from him, smiling at the way you groan and try to pull the sheets back over your head. "A crime, I know. But get up. Or I'll leave your ass to be late."

You grumble something he couldn't quite catch, kicking the sheets free from around your legs and lay still, glaring at him. You looked cute though, with your puffy face and eyes that just screamed I'm too tired for this.

"Up and at 'em, missy." Yoongi pats your leg and stands, waiting until you get out of bed before he moves. You lean your head against his chest, and Yoongi presses a kiss to your hairline, hand meeting the warm skin of your back to rub small circles. He knows you, you'd simply wait until he leaves the room to get back under the warm covers and fall asleep again. But as you pull away and sleep leaves your eyes, he sees the excitement light them and you do a happy little wiggle before you walk quickly out of the bedroom.

"Don't take forever in there." Yoongi says, following after you, but moving back down the hall and into the kitchen while you go to the bathroom.

"Yeah yeah."

He makes your plate while he waits for you, pouring your coffee in your second favourite mug that you think brings you luck when you need it. Taking the small bowl of fruit he'd cut up earlier out of the fridge and putting it down next to your plate of eggs, bacon and toast.

You come in, fresh faced and hair looking somewhat neater than it was a couple of minutes ago. Surprise colouring your features, "Oh...you know I was.."

"I know. Sit."

You snap your mouth shut, sitting opposite him and he slides your coffee over. You smile slightly at the cup he picked, reaching for his hand. Your hand is a bit cold, but Yoongi's is too, and his cheeks are getting warmer and he's trying not to look directly at you.

"Thank you."

"Yeah....I don't want you to pass out at work or anything because you didn't eat breakfast." He squeezes your hand softly, and doesn't let go, "Eat before it gets cold, you still have to get ready."

Luckily for the both of you, you'd picked out what you're wearing the night before, more at Yoongi's prodding because you'd almost forgotten. And you're sitting, a little tense while Yoongi starts his car, dressed casually but still work appropriate.

The drive seems too short, and Yoongi could see you're a little more than nervous, fidgeting in your spot as you stare out the window at your new workplace.

"Relax, you'll be fine." He runs his thumb over your knuckles, smiling softly at you. "I'll pick you up later, just let me know when you're done."

You take a breath, nodding to yourself, "Okay. I'll text you during lunch."

Yoongi grabs your handbag and your lunch bag from the back seat and hands them to you. You turn to open the car door and Yoongi stops you, "Forgetting something?"

"Oh!" You giggle, leaning over to him and Yoongi gives a caste kiss, and one more just for luck. "I love you."

"Love you too, now get going." He shoos you with a wave of his hand, and waits until you're at the building entrance before waving again. He smiles when you smile widely and wave a little frantically before entering and he watches until he can no longer see you. He could only hope that your first day goes okay, good enough that you'd smile like that every time.

Tags: @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @hamsterclaw @xpeachesncream

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

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Nuuu poor Y/n! 🥺🥺

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 01

**Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 1398

~~~~~

Well, today sucked. Catching your now ex-boyfriend banging your roommate was bad enough, but in your bed? That was just uncalled for. You sighed as you opened the door to your favorite coffee shop and slunk inside, mind still reeling. It was too early for alcohol, so you were going to settle for as much sugar and caffeine as they could into a large coffee cup.

The sight of the barista working, Taehyung, perked you up a little. His warmth in his smile could thaw a thousand icy hearts, and from what you had seen of him, he was kind and endearingly goofy. He was also one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen.

"[Y/n]!" He greeted cheerfully when he saw you, lips widening to the signature boxy smile that had girls flocking to this coffee shop from all over campus. "The usual?"

"Hey, Taehyung," you greeted, managing a tired grin that you hoped distracted from what were probably red, swollen eyes. By the way his smile dimmed, you weren't successful. "Actually, can you get me the most caloric monstrosity you can come up with? With two shots of espresso and extra whipped cream?" His eyes widened at the deviation from your usual black coffee or plain iced americano, and a tinge of empathy entered his eyes.

"Coming right up," he promised, and immediately began bustling behind the counter. You watched idly as he worked, though your mind quickly went back to your own dilemma. Well, you were definitely moving out now, you weren't about to keep living with someone you couldn't trust. Luckily, the lease was in your roommate's name only, so it was up to her to find a subleaser. Otherwise she'd be the one eating the cost of your half of the rent. You silently thanked the patron saint of lazy college students for this small blessing.

"One [y/n]-special, on the house." Taehyung's deep, melodic voice broke you out of your reverie. You automatically reached for your wallet before registering what he had said.

"What? That's really sweet of you, but don't have to go to the trouble of doing that," you said in surprise. He just smiled and pushed the cup towards you.

"It's no trouble to cheer up a pretty girl," he insisted. It once again took you a moment to process his statement, and you reflexively looked around, confused. He couldn't be talking about you, could he? You could clean up pretty nice, sure, but you weren't exactly feeling like the belle of the ball at the moment.

Feeling like an idiot, you pointed at yourself for confirmation and you felt heat rising on your cheeks as he nodded in amusement. You could tell he wasn't even hitting on you, he was just stating what he perceived to be a fact. He wanted to cheer you up, and you were pretty. Just that realization pulled a more genuine smile out of you and you accepted the drink with a quiet thank you.

"There it is," he said, adorably pleased at having cleared some of the dark clouds from your expression. "I hope your day gets better."

"Thanks, Tae. You're the best," you said gratefully, taking a sip of the confection and missing the way his grin widened at the unexpected nickname.

You left the cafe feeling much lighter than you had when you entered, that small act of kindness giving you the strength to begin planning. The beverage was indeed horrifyingly sweet, but the shock of it was what you needed to clear your head. The next step was to talk to someone about it, obviously. The first thing you had done upon finding your (ex, you reminded yourself) boyfriend and roommate scrambling to put on their clothes was to robotically grab your backpack and laptop and go straight to the coffee shop. You pulled out your phone and rolled your eyes at the number of missed calls and texts. Ignoring them, you called your older brother.

"[Y/n]!" He said cheerily, picking up on the second ring. "What's going on?"

"Hey Jackson," you answered, your brother's voice adding another layer of balm to your wounded heart. "Um, I need some advice."

You spilled out the entire story of how you had gone to work on a group project, only to realize you had the wrong day scheduled, and come back to… that whole thing. He was furious, as you knew he'd be, and the only thing that was keeping him from beating the ever loving shit out of your ex was that he was currently studying abroad in France. Which was why you had decided he was the safest person to call.

"Focus, bro," you scolded, trying to calm him down. "Right now I need to figure out the most pain-free way to find a new place and get the fuck out of there. I can probably crash on Mina's couch for a couple days, but she lives in a studio so that won't be sustainable."

"You're right," Jackson sighed. "I'll ask some friends and see if anyone needs a subleaser, and you should do the same. I will say you seem to be taking this surprisingly well."

You paused as you considered what he said. It was true, actually. While you did feel hurt and betrayed, it was almost… distant. You somehow felt more annoyed at the disrespect and the inconvenience of moving than anything else. Well, you would take that over being heartbroken because of some cheating jackass.

"Yeah, I guess… maybe it hasn't hit me yet. I'm definitely dreading going back to grab my clothes and school stuff though. What if he's there?"

"You should bring a friend or two," your brother advised. "I know there weren't any problems like that during, but people can do crazy things when they're emotional. If you want, I know some guys. They can straighten him out." You almost rolled your eyes at how mafia-like he sounded, but his advice was good. Maybe you had binged one too many Reddit relationship horror stories, but it was better safe than sorry.

"I'll see who I can rustle up. But if I can't find any muscley boys I'll take your meathead friends," you teased, enjoying his squawk of indignation.

"Just because we appreciate the benefits of a healthy work out, does not make us…" you smiled as he ranted at you, and the conversation lightened into your standard sibling jibes and banter.

"I should go, I need to call Mina and figure everything else out," you finally said regretfully, knowing that you'd have to have to undergo another round of explanations with your best friend.

"Yeah, sure. Tell her I say hi. I'll let you know if I get any bites about the housing situation."

"Thanks for everything, bro. I love you."

"I love you too, pipsqueak. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

There was a pause, and before you could hang up, your brother quietly added, "you're too good for him, you know. He doesn't deserve you. And you didn't deserve what he did."

He hung up quickly, probably embarrassed at being a sensitive human being. You would have snickered if your eyes hadn't suddenly begun burning at the unexpected sweetness. It figured. Seeing the guy you were dating balls deep in another girl didn't make you cry, but a heartfelt compliment from your brother did. Feelings were weird.

You took several deep breaths, waiting for the hot feeling in your eyes to dissipate, before deciding to text Mina. You didn't think you could handle another full phone conversation in public. Luckily, she texted you back right away.

You Hey? Can I come over? And crash for a few couple days? Freshly single and need to avoid my place for a bit. I'll explain everything later.

Mina Whoa what? Yeah I'm home, come over whenever. I'll open a bottle of wine.

You Marry me.

Part of you dreaded the unearthly shrieks of rage Mina was sure to emit when she heard the story, but the rest of you was ready for her warm hugs and the abuse she was sure to spew at your ex. Just knowing people like her, Jackson, and even kind acquaintances like Taehyung were supporting you was enough to keep your back straight and eyes forward. You would be just fine.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

#bts x reader #bts fic recs #ot7 x reader

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allhobbitstoisengard · 2 years

Text

Everything Falls Masterlist

Banner by the lovely @bangtansmauyeondan!

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 90,211

Rating: 18+

I'm currently figuring out this whole tumblr thing but you can also read this fic in its current entirety (31/31) on my AO3!

Ch 1

Ch 2

Ch 3

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Ch 5

Ch 6

Ch 7

Ch 8

Ch 9

Ch 10

Ch 11

Ch 12

Ch 13

Ch 14

Ch 15

Ch 16

Ch 17

Ch 18

Ch 19

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Ch 23

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Ch 25

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Ch 28

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Ch 30

Ch 31

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