#YOU THOUGHT YOU’VE SEEN THE LAST OF THE BUTLER AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoon-kooks · 11 months

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better than sex | myg | 3

🍑Pairing: Yoongi x Producer!Reader

🍑Genre: fluff, smut, studio!au

🍑Summary: As Min Yoongi’s studio neighbor and self-proclaimed nemesis, you’ve always seen him as someone who knew how to maintain a clean, well-put-together image without any careless slip-ups. But after nearly walking in on him with a hand around his cock, you gain a new perspective that leads to steamy fantasies in your bedroom and much-needed inspiration in the studio for Bangtan’s next album.

A week before track submissions are due, you give Yoongi a taste of the dirty demo, and now the selfish bastard wants to claim it for his own solo album. In exchange, he offers to help you produce another Bangtan track by the end of the week. Your only condition is for this track to be better than the sexual fantasies that inspired its predecessor.

🍑Word Count: 2.3k

🍑Parts: 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 [discontinued after this chapter]

🍑Warnings: this is the last part im posting for this series even though it was supposed to be longer, the ending here isnt conclusive but im posting it for anyone interested! if you have questions about the couple or where the story wouldve went, feel free to send some asks🥹 no smut in this chapter btw

🍑Wednesday🍑

Yoongi🍑👹 [6:47PM] “We’re filming near the BigHit building if you want a break from the studio”

Y/N💅 [6:48PM] “is there free coffee👀”

Y/N💅 [6:48PM] “asking for a friend”

Yoongi🍑👹 [6:49PM] “There’s a whole taco truck here for dinner”

Yoongi🍑👹 [6:50PM] “And free coffee for your friend”

Y/N💅 [6:51PM] “okay ill be there in a sex🐁”

Yoongi🍑👹 [6:51PM] “Sex?”

Y/N🐭 [6:51PM] “SEC”

Y/N🐭 [6:51PM] “fuck you”

You don’t really want to see Yoongi after an embarrassing typo like that, but you can’t say no to free food and coffee. Besides, the studio gets awfully boring and lonely when the boys aren’t around all day. It’s been like that as of late, aside from your late-night studio sessions with you-know-who. In times like this, you’re grateful the boy thought to invite you out for a change of scenery.

After throwing a cardigan over your shoulders and tucking your mini lyric notebook into your pocket, you step out of your studio and head over to the address Yoongi sent you. Your tummy immediately starts to feel like shit, but it isn’t hunger. It’s the kind of nervous feeling you get on a first date—except this isn’t a first date. It’s just the first time you’ve been invited by one of the guys to go behind the scenes of something other than music production.

Just as you’re about to message Yoongi about your arrival, you spot Jimin and Taehyung waving their tacos at you from right outside the area for filming.

“We’ve been expecting you, Y/N,” Taehyung says as if he’s the butler of some royal mansion. It matches his slicked-back hair and fancy gentleman costume that he’s only partly changed out of.

“Yoongi told us you were dropping by for table scraps or something.” Jimin hands you a to-go box loaded with tacos. It’s still nice and hot. “He said you’re like a little mouse scurrying around for free food.”

“Great. Did he just invite me over here so y’all can insult me?” You narrow your eyes at the boys, even though “little mouse” is the most endearing insult you’ve ever heard.

“He wanted to see you, obviously,” Taehyung shrugs. “Bro won’t shut up about that track you’re working on with him. Said you came up with a pretty sick hook.”

Oh, so he’s insulting you and complimenting you. Sounds about right for the nemesis you know.

The boys bring you inside to what looks like the set of a cologne commercial. Who knows. Maybe it’s actually a personal moisturizer for self-pleasure in that black bottle they’re advertising.

One by one, you spot and say hi to the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Namjoon are getting their makeup touched up, Jungkook is devouring what appears to be his second box of tacos, and Hoseok is looking over the shots he just finished. The only person unaccounted for is the boy who called you over here.

Then you look over to where all the cameras are pointed. Yoongi is lying comfortably on a leather couch, legs propped up on the armrest. He holds the black bottle up and studies it like he’s reading a book.

He looks good on that couch, but not nearly as good as he looked on the one in your studio last night. On your couch, he had a different look to him. He wasn’t the calm and well-mannered idol you see posing for the camera now. He was very much into finger-fucking you and making a mess out of you on your couch. And it was hot as hell.

Still, you have to admit you’re here drooling over him in his suit and tie like he’s the CEO of your heart or something. You’re not used to seeing him in anything other than sweats or jeans since there’s apparently no one worth impressing in the studio end of the BigHit building. And as much as you adore his naked face and casual look, Hot CEO is definitely a style he should adopt more of.

“Did you come here to stare or to eat?” Yoongi asks as soon as he gets a break from the cameras. No hi, no how are you. Just more slander. It should be illegal to be mean and handsome at the same time.

You came because he invited you! And because you like free food! And because maybe he’s nice to look at! But you’re not going to waste your breath on telling him something he already knows.

“I heard you called me a little mouse.” You cross your arms as he takes a long sip of water. “Is that your new pet name for me?”

He chokes on his water. Good. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” Aha, you were right. And to be honest, you wouldn’t really mind him calling you his Little Mouse from now on. “It’s because you sent that mouse emoji earlier.”

Ah, yes, the infamous mouse emoji that came right after your infamous sex typo. Good to know he hasn’t burned that cursed text from his memory the way you have.

The boy points to the box in your hands. “You should eat.”

“Did you eat already?” you ask, fidgeting with the notebook in your pocket. A tiny part of you is hoping he hasn’t so you can eat together. Then he’d have some time to look over the lyrics you’ve been working on for the song.

He shakes his head. “Now’s a good time—”

“Yoongi, we need you back for maybe 30… 40 minutes?” a camera guy calls out. You thought this was supposed to be Yoongi’s turn for a break. You thought this was your turn with him.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” he says, pulling you around the corner to a narrow hallway. The strong grip around your wrist is an odd mix of comfort and clinginess. “I heard the tacos are good. You should eat before they get cold.” In other words, eat without him because he doesn’t have time for you.

“They’re already cold.” You don’t mean it as a complaint. If he ate with you, you’re sure a cold meal would be just as satisfying as a hot one. But the thought of eating cold tacos all alone is kind of pathetic. And that makes you sad.

With a frown, he takes the box from you and pulls a taco out, examining it closely like the hottest certified health inspector in town. You’re suddenly hungry. The taco does look quite appetizing in those hands of his. Anything he touches becomes a thousand times prettier.

He takes a small bite as if whatever’s yours is his. You don’t mind, though. At least you know he’s getting some food in his stomach before returning to work.

But then he turns the taco to you and holds it up to your lips. You feel a piece of tortilla cling to the corner of your mouth as you bite into your dinner.

“Good, right?” The boy picks the tortilla bit off your cheek and pops it into his mouth before you can hide the mess from him—can’t get anything past his eyes.

You nod as you munch on the taco. You’ve never heard of a mouse being fed like royalty. But you have to admit, you kind of like it.

Satisfied with your answer, Yoongi tucks the half-eaten taco away with the rest of them in the box. You reach for the box, but he pulls it back out of reach.

“You’re not gonna grab some coffee too?” he asks.

You’d long forgotten about the coffee. Besides, what’s the point if you can’t enjoy it with the biggest coffee enthusiast you know?

“Maybe next time.” You swipe for the box again like a cat making a move on its prey. But once again, he holds the box as far away from you without actually distancing his body from yours. You both know there’s nowhere to run with that taco box in this narrow corridor.

“How about tomorrow morning?” he casually throws out. What, like a coffee date? Like an actual date? There’s no way. “I’ll pick it up on the way to the studio.”

Right. He can’t be seen out in the open with anyone other than his members and managers. You just wish so badly that that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Besides, the two of you are just friends. A coffee date with him is asking for too much. You feel yourself shrinking against the wall and fail to notice the way he studies the hint of disappointment in your eyes.

Before you know it, his lips find yours. They’re soft and lazy but also comforting—more comforting than any cup of coffee you could’ve gotten from here. And that’s when you know the small trip you made tonight was all worth it. Any time you get to spend with him is always worth it, no matter how short it may be.

“I’ll surprise you with something good,” he hums against your lips before finally handing the box back to you and walking toward the cameras. “See you around, Little Mouse.”

When you get back to your studio, all you think about while eating your cold tacos is Yoongi kissing you again. This time was different, though. It wasn’t prompted by sexual tension or frsutration. It was the kind of kiss you’d give when parting with a lover after a perfect night spent together. What business did Min Yoongi have with sending you off like that? You’ve heard of superheroes being charmed by the enemy, but you won’t let yourself be that easy. Not that way.

So after you take the last bite of your tacos, you shake off the thought of his soft lips and reach into your cardigan pocket for your notebook. It’s time to get back to work.

But the pocket is empty. The one on the other side is empty as well. Oh fuck. The notebook with all your lyrics is gone. All your hard work is suddenly gone. You must’ve dropped it on your little outing for free food.

And that’s not even the worst part. There are things in there no one else is supposed to see. If it falls into the wrong hands—i.e. Yoongi’s large veiny hands—you’re going to lose your goddamn mind.

You should probably go back and find it before the enemy does.

As soon as you step out of your studio, your body smacks right into a solid chest. You square up on instinct like it’s some late-night intruder, but it’s just Yoongi. And he’s got his stinken hands on your notebook. Of course he does.

“Oh good, I was looking for that,” you say as innocently as possible before swiping your paws at him. He takes a step back along with the notebook.

“First of all, ouch.” He rubs his chest right where you’d collided with him. “Second, you’re welcome for returning this safely to you.”

“Thank you, Yoongi. You truly are the best,” you mutter, somewhat distracted by the hand on his chest. It’s so veiny. “Happy now? Can I have my notebook back please?”

“Wait.” He holds a finger up like you’re a puppy in training. You only obey because you really need the notebook back. “What are all those lyrics in here?”

“For the song we’re working on, obviously.” A half truth.

“Some pages have dates from years ago.”

“Well you weren’t supposed to see those.”

“Well I read all of them.” He finally hands the notebook back, but it appears to be too late. He knows your secrets now. “It’s a waste of good lyrics. Assuming you weren’t planning on using them after all these years.”

“I’m not.” You cling to the notebook as if there’s anything left to hide in it. Anybody who’s read them could tell those other lyrics weren’t written for Bangtan songs. They were clearly written for you, from your perspective. Your unfiltered feelings, good and bad, make up approximately 99% of those lyrics. You might’ve even written soft shit about Yoongi.

“Okay, well, I’m glad I got to read them at least.” He leans against the doorframe. You’d expect him to be smirking after reading all the sappy things you’d written in that notebook, but he’s well-behaved tonight. “I wouldn’t be mad if you put out your own music eventually.”

“Very unlikely.” Although you appreciate him subtly supporting everything you do when it comes to music. “I already have my hands full with you, don’t I?”

“Oh, am I too much for you to handle?” There’s the smirk.

“Perhaps.” You press both hands into his chest and walk him backward to escort him out. There shall be no smirking or charming boys in your studio tonight.

“I have to head back before we wrap up.” He nods in the direction of the shoot as your hands continue to rest on him. “Will you still be around in an hour?”

“Nah, I’ll probably be out of here in about twenty minutes.” You pretend to check your phone even though you know you’ll still be in the studio for at least a few more hours. You’d rather not encourage him to come back and extend his already long day. “I just need to jot down a couple of ideas first.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He starts walking away before turning on his heels. “Oh, by the way, there’s been a change of plans about the morning coffee.”

Your heart sinks. No coffee? Got it.

“The photoshoot was supposed to be a two-day thing, but since we’re finishing it up tonight, I don’t have any work scheduled for tomorrow.” A free day? For Min Yoongi? Unheard of. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. Just bring your guitar. And that notebook.”

“You forgot the part where you tell me what the actual plan is.” You’re skeptical. He’s being sneaky, and that’s never a good sign.

“I told you it’s a surprise.” He dips before you can protest.

#bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #suga smut #suga x reader #suga fanfic #bts fluff

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sunnebeam · 10 months

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good for a weekend.

DRABBLE.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (yall know the drill, let's be protected irl), sex against a window, blank space au, chaebol!reader (she has issues), businessman!hoseok, profanity

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: took me a long time to choose the title for this one bc i just realized i already used a blank space lyric for jimin's drabble lol. but anyways here it is! idk the accurate word count but i think this is longer than all my other drabbles so far. enjoy <3 don't forget to share ur thoughts and give feedback ^^

When you were younger, you didn’t really understand why no one wanted to be friends with you.

Apart from your butler Yeonjun (who's paid to put up with your shit but is still genuine in his companionship nonetheless), a paintbrush and a canvas were the only real confidants you had for your pent up frustrations as a child.

Now that you're older, your isolation becomes more self-induced.

"Is it true that she's back together with Kim Taehyung again?”

“No, I heard that her family arranged for her and Park Jimin to marry next year...”

“But wasn't she spotted looking cozy with Jeon Jungkook at a bar last week?”

"No, no, I could've sworn she was hooking up with Min Yoongi—"

"Damn, she's going through men way too fast, don't you think?"

“Honestly, I think she's just a spoiled, rich playgirl."

You sigh, sitting on your chair in the art room of your very own mansion — a gift from your father after he missed out on your eighteenth birthday — while Yeonjun watches you paint your heart out.

“I haven’t seen Kim Seokjin around lately…” he muses as he steps closer to look at your work. By the looks of it, you must be feeling some pretty angry emotions.

“Silly Yeonjun,” you giggle too loudly, hand gripping your brush rather forcefully as you stare at your palette. “Seokjin and I broke up ages ago. Actually, I haven’t seen him since the haircut incident.”

Ah, the haircut incident…

Yeonjun shivers, remembering that outburst all too well. The memory of you hysterically chopping off your hair in a fit of jealousy while Kim Seokjin helplessly tried to get you to stop. That marked the end of your six-month relationship, leaving you with uneven chunks of hair and the man with a questionable restraining order.

Not your best moment, that much you can admit.

“Anyways,” you snicker, shaking your head to clear the onslaught of memories, “let’s not talk about him anymore, ‘kay?”

You stand up, leaving your painting half-finished, and walk over to the big floor-to-ceiling window.

Your mansion is the biggest in the area, filled with numerous rooms and spaces that far surpassed the amount you need for basic living. Your art room – easily the biggest room, even topping your master bedroom – houses a beautiful glass window that overlooks the property.

“Besides,” you say, clapping your hands, “we have more important things to worry about.” You turn to him and squeal, jumping up and down. “My art exhibit is in a couple of months! Can you believe it, Yeonjun?"

Your excitement has you skipping around the room in glee. You’ve been planning your own exhibit for months and now that it's drawing nearer, you feel more excited than nervous. You hope with all your heart that this exhibit could finally paint you in a proper light, letting you shine as 'the young, twenty-something art extraordinaire' instead of the 'resident fuckgirl who's only good for a weekend.'

“I know, sweetie.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling genuinely happy for you. But before he can further share in your excitement, the doorbell rings.

The noise makes you glance at your watch and smirk. Right on time.

Together, you and Yeonjun walk down the massive staircase to greet your guest, and Jung Hoseok hears you before he even catches sight of you — the clicking of your heels resonating loudly across the living room. He turns his head to the sound and smiles handsomely at the both of you.

For a few moments, none of you say a word but the electricity between you and your guest is hard to ignore.

"Shall I leave you to your business?" Yeonjun breaks the silence, directing the question at you. After all, at this point, he already knows the drill whenever you have your guests over.

You nod, never taking your eyes off Hoseok's and your butler immediately excuses himself.

Once it's just the two of you left, Hoseok holds out a hand to you. “Jung Hoseok. Pleasure to meet you."

You tell him your name, placing your hand in his and immediately, he brings it up to gently brush his lips against your knuckles. “Pleasure's all mine, Hoseok."

“Just Hobi is fine, gorgeous."

He winks at you and smiles. And just like all the other times, you feel yourself falling. Spiralling. Obsessing.

“Hobi…” you repeat, “shall we go over the terms of your company's sponsorship for my art exhibit?”

“Of course,” he responds. "Shall we discuss it in your office?"

"Oh no," you feign disappointment.

"What is it?"

“I'm terribly sorry, Hobi,” you utter, “but my office is under renovations at the moment—"

(It isn't.)

"—and I’m afraid it's not convenient for business discussions for the time being.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok muses, his eyes on your lips as you purse them contemplatively. “Should we take our discussion somewhere else, then?” He offers, not wanting to cut his visit short.

He stares right into your pretty eyes and he swears you've performed some sort of magic right then and there because he finds himself right under your spell.

“Good idea." You smile, your hand sliding up to rest on the crook of his elbow as you lead him up your stairs. “I know the perfect place.”

And that's how he found himself in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your immaculate bed with your head bobbing up and down between his legs.

"Shit," he curses when you take him deeper in your mouth. "Yeah, that's it, gorgeous."

You look up at him with wide eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact when you swallow around him. He bites his lip at the feeling, his thumb reaching out to wipe the stray tears running down your cheek.

You look so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.

Hoseok wonders how the hell he managed to get an invitation to your bed. Sure, he's quite attractive but you're in a whole other league of your own. You're way up there on a pedestal, you and the other chaebols in your wealthy family's circle. Whereas, he's just a mere businessman trying to negotiate a sponsorship proposal.

But, fuck, he's not complaining.

You whine when he pulls you up and onto his lap, your lips releasing his dick with a pop. Feeling needy, you suckle at the soft skin of his neck while he desperately removes your clothes and then his.

"Hobi," you whimper into his neck and the sound goes straight to his already hard cock. "Need you. Please."

"Shit," he groans when you rub your leaking core against his thigh. "Hold on to me."

You comply, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and he stands up to walk the both of you towards your bedroom's clear, glass window. Just like the one in your art room, this one spans wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and overlooks the front of the mansion.

He sets you down on your feet and turns you around so that you're looking out. Your pussy dribbles even more arousal at the sight of your enormous front gates from the distance, the thought of being seen turning you on.

"Hobi," you whine when you feel his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, and push your ass out in response.

"Don't hold back, gorgeous," he tells you when you let out a muffled moan. "I want the whole mansion to hear you."

He enters you swiftly, making you groan loudly and press your palms against the window. He pulls back, making you whine desperately and shift your weight on your feet. He slams back inside roughly, making you scream incoherently and fuck yourself back on him.

"That's it," Hoseok groans, "fuck me back."

And you do.

He thrusts into you in rough but deep thrusts. You fuck back into him, arching your back, causing your tits to press against the glass. The added stimulation to your nipples makes you play with your clit, making figure eight motions and heightening your pleasure.

"Shit, gorgeous. You're creaming."

He sees a creamy ring of white on the base of his cock and curses, the sight pushing him closer to his climax. You only whine in response, clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Hobi, I'm gonna—"

"Cum with me, gorgeous," he coaxes you. "Now."

You obey, cumming around him while he finishes inside you. You're breathing heavily, relishing in the warmth of his release and he just chuckles affectionately at your fucked out face.

He pulls out of you and when you lead him back to your bed, he suddenly feels exhausted. His eyes can barely stay open and the last thing he remembers before sleep takes over him is your voice telling him three little words.

When Hoseok wakes up, he sees you all dressed, propped up on the headboard and glaring at him.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asks groggily.

"Who's Sooah?" you ask him immediately, your voice clipped.

"What?"

You show him the unlocked phone in your hand. His phone.

"What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

"She was texting you nonstop. Who is she?"

"She's a colleague, not that I need to explain myself to you. And she's the venue coordinator for your art exhibit!"

"I don't beleve you!"

"How the fuck did you even know my password?"

"Are you cheating on me?" you demand, tears falling down your face.

"Cheating on you?" he repeats your question incredulously. "We literally just met!"

But you aren't listening to him. No, you're spiralling, clutching your hair and looking at him desperately. "Did I do something wrong? Is she prettier than me? Is she—"

"You're insane," he cuts you off, frightened at your sudden behavior. As quickly as he possibly can, he puts on his clothes and scrambles towards your bedroom door. "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving."

To his surprise, you don't follow him, though he can hear your heartbroken wails all the way to the front door. When he gets to his car, his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU WRECKED MY CAR?!" he yells, the question directed at you but his exasperated eyes are trained on his wrecked vehicle.

The punctured tiles, cracked windshield, and dented exterior would cost him a fortune. But he decides that's a problem for another day. Right now, he just has to get out of here.

"Crazy bitch," he mutters when he finally exits your property gates on foot.

Back in your room, you cry your heart out while Yeonjun caresses your hair comfortingly.

Your butler knows the drill by now. You just need one day to cry all your tears, another day to forget about it, and around three more days to move on.

Which is why, a few days later, Yeonjun opens the door to a charming, dimpled face. He leads the man to the living room where you're waiting and leaves you two to your business.

"What's your name?" you ask your guest.

"Kim Namjoon," he replies, taking your hand and kissing it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous."

A heartbeat. Then another.

And then you smile.

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

Rainy Days - Professor Butler Pt. II

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes! - several of y'all asked for part 2 haha

Prompt: You've been seeing Professor Butler for several months now, and you're getting tired of all this sneaking around. Is he gonna grow a pair and commit or not? [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 4061

A/N: this is the ghost of mila since i'll be at a work event when this is posted lmao 👻

happy birthday to the sexiest man alive 2022 🥴🥴 i hope y'all enjoy part 2. also i did not know that Agnetha from ABBA was dead and i am...very sad about that

Read part one here!

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You spritz yourself one last time with perfume before hectically grabbing the strap to your purse and blasting out the door. You’re running late to meet your…well, you aren’t really sure what he is to you. He’s everything and nothing at the same time. As far as everyone else is concerned, he’s professor to you. But in private, in the quiet moments when it’s just you and he, he’s so much more than that. Boyfriend, lover, friend with benefits. You aren’t sure what title fits your relationship best. And never have you used any of those words to describe him. Boyfriend is too formal, lover too sexual, and friend with benefits too distant. He is your…your Austin. That’s the only word that feels right to say. And as you glance at your watch, you realize just how late you are to meet him.

You sprint across the street and a car beeps at you. You throw up a hand and mutter a ‘sorry’ even though you know they can’t hear you. After you round the corner to get to a bridge, you stop and take a moment to collect yourself. You brush your hair back and push it into place, straighten your clothes, dab some sweat from your forehead. You take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart that’s beating out of your chest, not from the sprint to the park but from the thought of getting to see him again. No matter how many times you do this, how many times you meet him for your - what’s become a weekly - walk through the park just off-campus, you never stop feeling like you’re sneaking around. You never stop getting that adrenaline rush that comes with doing something forbidden. Perhaps that’s because there is always a chance, just a small one, that someone will recognize the two of you together.

You smile as you approach your usual meeting place: a fountain in the middle of the park, a secluded area where you’ve never actually seen another person besides the two of you. Even from the back, you can tell the figure sitting on the bench is him, his gorgeous blonde curls reflecting the golden rays of afternoon sunlight. You peer over his shoulder to see a book flapped open on his lap, as usual, and bite your lip at how academic he is. How handsome he is just doing the thing he loves most. You always cherish these moments, and you’ve gotten very good at picking them up after pining after him in class for so long. These candid moments of him just…existing. You’ve never seen a man exist so charmingly before. You slink up behind him, making sure to be as quiet as possible, and throw your arms around his chest. You allow your lips to hover by his ear.

“Hi Aus,” you whisper in a low voice.

When his head jerks up from the words on the novel’s page, you can tell your surprise attack was successful. You take advantage of the distraction, running your fingers across the half-open flap of his dress shirt. He chuckles deeply and tilts his head back, a handsome smirk resting on his lips. He reaches up to remove his sunglasses, pushing the golden locks aside with the frames. His other hand moves to rest on your arm, stroking your skin with his thumb.

“Hey you,” he responds. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably,” you roll your eyes.

“You were never late to my class,” he counters.

“I would never disrespect the curriculum like that.”

He lifts your arms over his head, still holding onto them as he uses his thick thighs to push himself to stand. He turns, holding you out at arm's length to take you in. You’ve worn your favorite sundress today, one that you know makes your breasts look amazing. You know he’s noticed that when his eyes drop down to your breasts and then return to your eyes.

“What about this curriculum?” he asks, jerking you toward him. You crash into his chest and giggle, sliding your hands up the shirt and onto the nape of his neck, absentmindedly playing with the extra curly hair there. He leans down, gently brushing his lips against yours. You smirk against him, darting your tongue out to touch his lips before you lean back.

“Oh, I prefer the internship portion of this curriculum. You know, the practicum component where I get to put my skills to work.”

He smirks before pulling you taut against him and crashing his mouth down onto yours. He slips his tongue between your lips, wet and warm as it traces figures along your sensitive skin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers crawling their way into his hair. His hands slip to your ass and he hoists you up onto his hips, walking backward until your back hits what you assume to be the trunk of a tree. You moan again as his hips press into yours. You bite onto his bottom lip, pulling it out and he groans in response before releasing your lips.

“You’ve been studying, baby,” he growls, breathless. “A+.”

You just smirk and hop down. He intertwines his fingers into yours, spinning you around to his side. He snatches his book up, and you start on the path that you’ve trodden so many times before. You both know it by heart now, so you can focus your whole attention on each other.

“What are you reading, Aus?” you ask, gesturing to the book.

“Agnetha Faltskog - The Girl With the Golden Hair.”

He flips the book to show you the cover depicting a beautiful blonde woman. You smile.

“Who’s that?”

“She was one of the members of ABBA. Unfortunately, she died not too long ago, so I wanted to read more about her. It’s very interesting so far.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I love ABBA.”

“They’re one of my favorites. They were certainly a talented group and they produced tons and tons of hits.”

“Enough for two movies and a musical,” you reply with a chuckle, and he laughs. “Hey…”

You stop, glancing down a path that you both gloss by every time you take this walk. You point toward it, pulling on his arm.

“Why don’t we go this way?”

Austin shrugs and redirects his steps to go down the path you’ve chosen. You get back to talking about ABBA and what he’s reading. Then, you talk about what you’re reading and doing. You trudge along the path, making conversation until you start to hear noises in the distance. Your eyes tear themselves away from Austin’s for the first time in a while to notice that you’re approaching a clearing in the woods.

As you emerge into the clearing, the sounds of old 80s music and roller skates on wood flood into your ears. An outdoor roller rink. You smile and point. Austin nods but as you take a step closer you feel him release your fingers and, just out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he shoves his hand into his pocket. For some reason, a sense of embarrassment seeps into your chest.

He does this frequently. Whenever you’re out in public where other people might see you, actually. You know that Austin lives in constant fear of being found out and tattled on by a student or a faculty member. So far, you’ve accepted and lived with it since you understand the risk it poses to his career. But you won’t lie and say that it doesn’t bother you. Actually, as you walk toward the rink to look closer, your brain starts to run through all the times he’d released your fingers, distanced himself from you, he even acted like he didn’t know you on one risky close encounter. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, especially since you’re sure that anyone can see the adoration you hold for him on your face. As you step up to the rink, you’re starting to get a little pissed off, actually. You glance over at him to see a dumb smile playing on his lips as if everything is just dandy. In the afternoon light of the day, he looks so handsome.

But you kinda wanna punch him in the face right now. You should be able to grab his face and kiss him, snuggle underneath his arm, hold his hand. You’re basically a couple…aren’t you? Suddenly, your body is overwhelmed with the need to know if what you feel for him is returned. Until this moment you haven’t questioned it, but now…

Your fingers dance along the banister and onto his fingers. You grab at them, but he snakes them away and shoots you a look like a parent would to a disobedient child. You clench your jaw and then try again, this time sliding your entire body in front of him. He steps back, away from you, and shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.”

You can tell by his tone and body language that he’s starting to get irritated. Good. You smirk, your fingers traveling to his belt loops and hooking into them to yank him against you.

“What? I just wanna be close to you. Don’t you wanna be close to me?”

You press your chest into his and drop your hands to his pelvis, curving them ever so close to his crotch. He sighs deeply, moving his fingers to your shoulders and attempting to push you off of him. But you stay clinging to him, refusing to be removed.

“Come onnnnnn. Just one little kissie. No one will even notice.”

He falters for a moment, and you can practically see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of disappointment and temptation. He wants you, you can tell, but he doesn’t know if he should take you. Although your heart is racing with the embarrassment of your actions, you’re just so tired of hiding. You could never say it out loud, but you’re pretty sure that you’re in love with this man. You’re not expecting a marriage proposal or anything like that but just some recognition would be nice. You just want to flaunt him, show the whole world that he’s yours.

You hook your finger into the belt loop of his pants and yank him harder against you as your other hand pulls down on his neck. You strain your own neck upward, pushing your chin out to try desperately to connect your lips to his. He begins to move down toward you, but his head jerks back harshly and hands fly to your wrists, sternly removing them from his body. He pushes you back, holding you at arm's length again.

“No. I’ve told you no before. We just can’t do it. It’s inappropriate. That was the deal when we first got together. I told you that we wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, at least not until you graduate in May. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk either or both of us getting into trouble with the university.”

You stare up at him, the unfeeling coldness in his eyes making your fingers clench into fists at your sides. As you calculate your next movement, splats of chilling rain begin to fall onto your skin. You aren’t completely sure what overcomes you, but you find yourself reaching out and firmly shoving his chest. He stumbles back a few steps, his eyes widening and mouth popping open with shock.

“How can you treat me like this?” you shout. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t like sneaking around and hiding? Did my feelings ever even cross your mind?” You know that what you’re saying is bullshit, but you say it anyway. “No, I’m sure they didn’t. You don’t want us to get in trouble with the university? Us, Austin? Or you?? Don’t think I haven’t heard the gossip that you’re up for tenure already. God forbid the university board should find out that you’re having an affair with me. Bye-bye tenure. That’s the real reason isn’t it?”

“Don’t be petty, Y/N. Of course that’s not the reason. But I just can’t go around shouting to the world that I’m fucking a student,” he spits back.

“So that’s all I am to you, then? Just some student you’re fucking?? I’m just some kind of sugar baby to you, is that it? Someone to pass the time with, something to use?”

“No!” he yells back, taking a step forward so that he’s towering over you. You stick your neck out, challenging him.

“Then what the hell am I to you?”

“Y/N…”

“No, answer my question. What am I to you? Am I your girlfriend or not?”

He says nothing, and you can tell that he’s trying to contain his emotions in the presence of the other people around, some of which could be faculty or students.

“Answer. Me. Austin.”

He stays quiet, his eyes flicking around to take in all the bystanders who are beginning to notice your little quabble thanks to the volume of your voice.

“Fucking answer the question, Austin!” you yell even louder, reaching out to shove him again. “Just say it. Say I’m your girlfriend. Say it!”

“You’re not my girlfriend!!”

His sudden shift in tone shocks you, and you feel heat crawling into your cheeks as you glance around at all the observers watching your drama go down. When you glare back at his eyes, they flash with a moment of concern and guilt. He says nothing and realization begins to dawn on you.

“Whatever. You know what, I don’t care. I’m leaving. Don’t contact me, and I’ll drop your stupid class. Goodbye, Professor Butler. I hope you enjoy your tenure.”

You spin on your heel too quickly for him to respond. You know that nothing you’ve said is true nor does it make any logical sense. But you are so infuriated, so frustrated, so enraged that you just want to be anywhere but next to him. The rain begins to fall harder. And harder. And harder. The drops are freezing cold and you find it ironic. The timing. It’s almost as if you have started the downpour that’s ensuing.

In a matter of moments, what are just a few raindrops pitter-pattering here and there turn into a full-fledged shower. You cross your arms over your chest, shivering as your skin and dress start to soak through. You trudge through the grass which is quickly becoming a muddy mess, not caring what you might look like. You’re pretty sure you’re crying but with the raindrops trickling down your cheeks, you can’t be sure. Just as you’re about to cross the street, you feel someone’s hand on your arm. Whirling around with rage, you raise your arm to strike whatever is clutching onto you.

Austin’s open palm wraps around your wrist to stop it from colliding with his perfect face. You cower as soon as you make eye contact with him, immediately recognizing the fury in his face. His grip on your wrist is firm but not painful.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls, and you’re thrown back to all the times in the past few months that you’ve been with Austin. The times that he’d fucked your brains out with eyes like that. The first time that you’d slept together, when he had asked you that exact same question.

“Going back to my dorm so I can get drunk off my ass and update my Tinder profile,” you say, half-joking and maybe half-not.

“Y/N, don’t be like this. Why can’t you just understand? I need this job.”

“Do you? Do you need it more than you need me? Cause if so, then I guess all this bullshit in the past few months has been for nothing.”

You try to pull away, but his hand snakes onto your waist, pulling you against him.

“I need it because of you, don’t you understand? I want to be able to help you! Your student loans, your books, food! Whatever you need. I want to be able to provide for you!”

You have to admit that the sentiment makes your heart flutter for a moment, but you push that feeling down. You’re enjoying the power of your anger too much and making him feel guilty is way too fun.

“You don’t need to provide for me,” you shout. “That’s why I’m getting a fucking college degree. So I can provide for myself.”

You turn to stalk away but whirl back around when something occurs to you.

“So that is it, then? I am just some kind of sugar baby to you. You disgust me.”

This time around, with the combination of your rage and impatience, you’re strong enough to rip away from his grasp. You stomp quickly across the wet sidewalk, splashing puddles of muddy and dirty water up onto your legs.

“You’re not my fucking sugar baby,” suddenly Austin is right next to you. Damn his long legs. You try to speed up, but this is pretty much the fastest you can physically walk and you just have no chance against Austin’s lanky figure. He’s matching your pace with every step.

“Then why won’t you say that I’m your girlfriend? Make up your mind, Austin. I can’t keep sneaking around and waiting for you to accept me. To be proud of me. To show me off. It’s embarrassing to have to tell everyone I’m single when I’m not. I’m embarrassed that you don’t want to show me off. Is there something wrong with me? What, am I not good enough for your hoity-toity professor friends?”

“No. That’s not it. You’re very, very bright and an amazing person. We both know that-”

“Then why? Why won’t you accept me? Why do we have to continue to hide? I hate this. I hate lying to my parents, my friends, the people who are closest to me. Because you know what?? I want to tell them. I want to tell everyone. I want everyone to know. I lo…I like you so much. So so much, and I can’t tell anyone about it! No one!”

You’re definitely crying now. At this point, you’ve both stopped in the middle of the street. Your fists are splayed out behind you to offset the force of your screams. You’re breathing heavily, between the fast walking, the crying, the freezing rain shaking your body, and the anger. Shockingly, not a single car is passing by on either side of the street. You should probably move and that thought crosses your mind for a quick second, but lord knows you’re too stubborn to move before he does.

“And you think it doesn’t kill me? Not to tell anyone about you? Not to show you off? Goddamn it, Y/N/, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, the hottest person I’ve ever seen. You’re ethereal, it’s unreal. And you’re funny and quirky and quick-witted. And so smart and sure of yourself. You’re so talented and everything about you makes my heart race. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, but I cannot ruin your life. I will not ruin our lives like this. I need the job so I can…”

He hesitates, suddenly realizing how many confessions he’s just spat at you. Your heart is thudding against your chest so loud that it’s drowning out the sounds of the harsh rain on the rooftops of the buildings along the street. You don’t know what to do. He loves you. He’s said it. Officially.

But he needs the job so he can…what??

“So you can what?” you ask, your eyes flicking between his.

A moment of tense silence passes between you as you wait for him to answer your question. You take a step forward, leaning your head up to gaze into his deep blue eyes. You raise your hand to his face, brushing a thumb over the slick cheek covered in cold rain. You watch as a few drops of water roll off his plump parted lips and you want more than anything to suck all the drops up. To taste the water on him.

Just as he’s about to answer, you jump at the sound of a loud beep. You glance to the side to see a black sedan racing toward you. Austin instincitvely pulls you against him, spinning around so that his back is facing the oncoming traffic. His arms slide under your armpits and lift you up so that you’re hovering above the ground. He walks forward onto the sidewalk. The car drives past with a beep, the window barely rolled down as the driver angrily shouts obscenities at you.

You continue to walk backward, pulling Austin underneath an awning on the nearest building. You press your back against the brick wall, absentminedely sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of water falling off your nose. He slides in next to you and you both try to catch your breaths.

“So you can what?” you ask.

“What?”

“You were saying that you…you need the job so you can something, but you didn’t finish.”

“Oh…it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” you ask, reaching to grab his hands. “Maybe I can help. Is something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” he gazes into your eyes and then chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s…just some dumb idea I had.”

“What? You can tell me. Anything.”

He glances up at you again, and you can tell he’s weighing his options.

“Well…it’s stupid, but I was just saying that…I need the job to start saving for a…ring…”

Your breath catches in your throat and with the wet air and rain dripping down your face you start to cough. You bend over at the waist, coughing your lungs up as Austin rubs your back soothingly.

“Woah, woah, baby girl. Deep breaths, honey, deep breaths.”

“A…ring?” you sputter. “Like a…like a wedding ring?”

“No, no!” he holds his hands out in front of him with wide eyes. “Dear god no. I may be older, but I’m still way too young to be ready for marriage. No, I just thought that…well maybe you could wear it and think of me. And that could kind of show people that you’re taken.”

“So…like a promise ring?”

“Uh…yeah, like a promise ring, I guess.”

You watch the Adam’s apple in his throat bob up and down as he gulps nervously. You bite your lip to keep the smile from spreading too widely across your face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I do want to show you off. I really do. I just truly don’t want you to get in trouble. The university has a very strict policy about this kind of stuff, even if it is consensual. And more than that, I want to be able to provide for you if I ever get the chance to. I know it’s crazy to think this far in the future since we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, but…like I said out there. Y/N, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve love you, baby.”

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I just wanna make everything good for you. Like I told you before, this won’t be easy, but I’ll take care of you. And maybe…maybe we can head up to my parent’s house this weekend. They’re hosting a dinner with some of their old friends and they invited me. I wasn’t gonna go so that I could stay here and spend time with you, but maybe I can bring you along.”

A huge smile spreads across your face. You raise yourself up on your tip-toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He kisses you back and you can feel the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile. When you pull back, you nudge his nose with yours.

“I love you, too. And I would love to go.”

“Alright. Let’s do it. But in the meantime, let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you toward the corner of the sidewalk. “I like you wet but not like this.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 19

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Today’s the day. No more running away. It’s time to face the truth.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

When you stirred awake, your eyes widened and you shot up. You looked around the room and realised that you were in Namjoon’s room, the multiple books on the shelves being a dead giveaway. On the nightstand beside you was a scribbled note.

‘Had to attend a meeting. Take the day off and rest. - Namjoon’

You sighed, falling back onto the bed. Looking down, you weren’t in your dress anymore. You only hoped that the boys weren’t daring enough to change you and in your drunk stupor, you were able to change yourself.

“Kill me.” You screamed into the pillow.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Go away.” You groaned.

“Good morning.” Taehyung came in with a grin. You sat up in annoyance, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to undo all the tangled knots from your sleep.

“Here, this will help.” Taehyung poked your shoulder. He handed you the hangover pill and a glass of lemon water.

“Thanks...” You swallowed the pill with the cold liquid. Sighing tiredly, you fell back onto Namjoon’s pillow. Since it was obvious that you slept next to the guy, who is also your boss, you didn’t care that Taehyung was seeing you enjoying the warmth and comfort of Namjoon’s bed. After all, you were too tired and hungover to care.

“Hey, Taehyung. Where’s Jimin?” You asked.

“Still sleeping. Whenever Jimin drinks as much as he did last night, he sleeps for a really long time. Like... until the following evening.” Taehyung shrugged. You nodded your head.

“Do you... feel better? After last night.” Taehyung seemed a little cautious with his question.

“Do I feel better? Well, I did feel more relaxed last night at the club. But right now, my stomach is churning and my head is pounding so not really.” You chuckled. Seeing that you still joked around, Taehyung grinned.

“Need help getting back to your room?”

“I can manage.” You forced a smile. Taehyung just let you grab onto his arm to stand up. He walked beside you just to keep you company.

“Wait, Tae. Did... anything happen last night when Jimin and I came home from the bar?” You grabbed his wrist suddenly, startling the boy. He blinked, turning to look at you.

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head.

“Well, I obviously don’t remember how I even came home last night. And something must have happened for me to end up in Namjoon’s bed. Also, I know how bad I can get when I’m drunk. So tell me, how bad was it?” You interrogated.

“You weren’t bad, doc. Don’t worry.” He assured. You let out a sigh of relief at his words.

“You were cute.” He added with a snicker. You froze in your spot as your eyes widened. Just how drunk were you last night? That itself made you feel like throwing up even more.

“I need to see Jimin and... or Namjoon.” You detoured and left his side. Taehyung trailed behind you as you went downstairs.

“Wait, I wanted to ask-”

“Oh, (y/n)! You’re awake!” Jungkook ran over to you excitedly, cutting Taehyung off. You gave the youngest a slightly weird look, taking a step back. Why was he so excited?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I need to see Namjoon.” You cleared your throat.

“Oh, come on! You already didn’t want to leave his side last night! And now, you’re already looking for him the moment you wake up! What about me?!” Jungkook growled unhappily. You cupped a hand over your mouth to mask your shock. Behind you, Taehyung was sending signals to Jungkook to stop scaring you about last night.

“Doc? I thought I heard you.” Namjoon poked his head out from behind the pillar, walking over. You gave an awkward wave.

“Morning?” You rubbed the back of your neck, embarrassed. Namjoon chuckled, still finding your adorable, as he patted the top of your head. You shrunk back.

“Uh, Namjoon... I didn’t do anything weird last night... Did I?”

“No, you’re good.” He ruffled your hair. Before you could question him further, Hoseok came and tapped the watch on his wrist.

“Listen, doc. We’ll talk when I get back.” Namjoon waved to everyone and rushed off with Hoseok, who winked at you with a giggle. Just then, Jin came out of the kitchen with a maid behind him. The maid placed a bowl of warm rice porridge on the table for you.

“Here. It’ll make you feel better. It’s abalone porridge.” Jin said.

“Thank you. I really needed this.” You took a spoon. The boys hung around you as you ate your food.

“I’m hungover, not unstable. You guys don’t have to wait for me. Go do your work or something.” You raised your eyebrow at them. The boys cast each other looks but didn’t move.

“It’s okay.” Taehyung said.

“So, (y/n)-”

“I’m done eating. Namjoon said it’s my day off so run along. Go do whatever you mafia guys do.” You waved them off like little kids. You didn’t even hear Jin as you jogged up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway.

“Yoongi? You there?” You knocked on his room door. There was no reply. Even when you pressed your ear to the door, there was no sound of movement or any grunts.

“Doctor. Are you looking for young master Yoongi?” The sudden appearance of the butler made you jump.

“Uh... yeah. But it’s nothing important.” You blushed.

“Young master Yoongi just came back from a lunch appointment. He is in the other wing.” He informed. You nodded your head, thanking him with a pat on the shoulder before shuffling over to the other wing of the house. Your hand hovered over the golden handles of the double doors. The last time you were here, you weren’t exact the most comfortable.

“Y-Yoongi?” You called out as you entered. For the first time, the wing was so silent and dark. Heading up the stairs, you looked at the various labelled doors that lined the hallways.

‘Min Yoongi’

You knocked but again, there was no reply. Pursing your lips, you decided to go in anyway. It was a simple office, monochromatic with some dark blues.

“What are you doing here?” Yoongi’s sudden voice shocked you. You turned around to face the male, who had a stoic look on his face. In his hand was a crystal glass with whiskey.

“Looking for you.” You replied. Duh. He nodded his head slowly, entering the office and closing the door behind him. He took a sip of his drink.

“Want some?” He shook his glass.

“No, thanks. Hungover.” You cringed as you pointed to your still throbbing temple.

“Right. You were quite different last night. I don’t think any of us have ever seen you like that before. You didn’t want to let Namjoon go because of his ‘cute dimples’.” He said. Your jaw dropped slightly as you held your cheeks, totally wanting to bury yourself right now.

“Namjoon said I didn’t do anything weird.” You whimpered.

“Right...” Yoongi gave a slightly amused face.

“Actually, I wanted to talk about-” You were cut off when Yoongi tugged you by your arm into his embrace. He resting his eyes against your shoulder, arms around your waist tightly.

“Why doesn’t he want to get better?” He whispered, fists bunching the back of your shirt.

“Yoongi...”

“I went to see him. He didn’t even want to see me. But I just had to know... why he doesn’t want to be treated. He just... accepts it. Accepts that he is going to die.” He started to shake a little, voice cracking.

“I promised to stay awake if he lets me help him. But even then, he didn’t want it.” You smoothed to back of his head, remembering what Jimin told you.

“Yoongi hyung always wanted to be close to his brother. But his father never allowed Geumjae hyung and Geumjae’s mother near them.” Jimin explained as he sipped his drink.

“Why?”

“Geumjae hyung was the son of his past lover. Sure, he allowed the mother and son to stay in the same estate and still provided for them, a little. But as a kid, when Yoongi went to find Geumjae hyung to play, his father would get so angry and punish them, especially Geumjae hyung. That’s when Yoongi hyung’s father adopted Hoseok hyung.” Jimin shrugged.

“That’s horrible. He’d rather adopt another child than to let both his sons be siblings.” You shook your head.

“That’s how Yoongi hyung’s father was.” Jimin sighed.

“I’m glad I never have to meet him.”

“Once Geumjae hyung was old enough to provide for himself and his mother, he moved them out of the family estate. When Yoongi hyung found them again, apparently Geumjae hyung’s mom had already passed away.” Jimin said.

“She passed away?” You asked.

“According to Geumjae hyung, even as his mother grew older, she was mentally unstable. From the heartbreak and abandonment...”

“I can imagine how hard it must have been for Geumjae to watch his mother go through that, and not be able to get over it, even as she aged.” You felt sad for Geumjae and Yoongi.

“Geumjae hyung’s resentment just... carried on to Yoongi hyung. I guess Geumjae hyung felt that he and his mother were replaced. Rather than blame a dead man, he’d rather blame Yoongi hyung.” Jimin finished, ordering another round of drinks.

“And even so, Yoongi still wants to help him when he’s sick.” You looked at your empty glass.

“To Yoongi hyung, just knowing you still have family alive is enough.”

“I’m sorry things turned out like this, Yoongi.” Pulling away, you looked at his face. He looked so exhausted and emotionally drained, even if it had only been one day.

“You should rest, Yoon. You’ve had a long day.” You told him, taking the glass from his hand. Usually, Yoongi would snap at whoever takes his drink from him but with you, he let you take it without a fight.

“Let’s go?” Yoongi waited for you at the door of his office. You nodded, walking with him out of the other wing.

“Jimin will be asleep the rest of the day. He doesn’t usually get tipsy but he does sleep for a while after a night of drinking.” He informed.

“Yeah, Tae told me.” You chuckled.

“I hope you don’t mind that Jimin told me a little background about you and your brother. I just wanted to understand a little bit more... which I did. That’s why I was looking for you, to talk to you and maybe, understand a little more.” You said, putting your hands in your pockets. You were ready for him to get angry that you invaded his private life.

“Jimin knows what to share about my past on my behalf. I trust him.” He shrugged and you let out a mental sigh of relief. The both of you stopped in front of Yoongi’s bedroom.

“Rest well.” You wished.

“You too.” He forced a smile. Just as you were about to turn to head to your own room, you heard him clear his throat.

“Actually, (y/n)...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hmm?” You titled your head.

“Nevermind.” He shook his head before entering his room and shutting the door. You stared at the black door for a few seconds before you shrugged and headed back to your own room.

“Jimin?!” You opened your bedroom door and was shocked to see the male in your bed. He was sleeping soundly, hugging your pillow. You fed Kookie his lunch before heading over to peek at Jimin. True to that, he was really fast asleep. You sighed with your hands on your hips.

“I’m always finding you or Jungkook in my bed. And lately, Taehyung too.” You shook your head but of course, he didn’t respond.

“At least scoot over.” You chuckled, pushing him to the side before you slid in, under the covers. Jimin didn’t even stir as you moved him or stole your pillow back from him.

“Goodnight... I guess?” You closed your eyes.

“Wait, you didn’t ask her?” The older ones all asked their maknae with crossed arms. They were in disbelief, having believed that Jungkook would be the first one to ask you to the ball.

“I was going to. But Yoongi hyung just had to come and start such big drama.” Jungkook glared. Yoongi rolled his eyes with a snort.

“Well, you did the same to me when I was going to ask her!” Taehyung sneered. Jungkook frowned.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask her.” Jin turned to Jimin.

“That night out was for her to let go of her stress. It was about her, not me.” Jimin shrugged. The boys were all squabbling downstairs. When this whole ‘plus 1′ incident came up, they all planned to individually ask you to the ball that was taking place tonight but somehow, they all kept getting interrupted by each other.

“She fell asleep before I could ask her. I was supposed to ask her when I got back but I was busy cleaning someone’s mess up.” Namjoon hissed, looking at Jimin, who was more interested in inspecting his nail bed.

“Can we get back to this? So no one asked her?” Yoongi broke all the arguments and squabbles.

“You didn’t ask her? I heard from one of the butlers you were with her in the other wing for a while. You could have asked her.” Jin asked.

“No... There were more important things to discuss.” He crossed his arms.

“The plan was to have someone ask her! Rather it be one of us than some stranger!” Hoseok said, annoyed.

“I’m ready!” Your voice was heard. The boys were not ready for what they saw. You were in a light blue dress, the bodice decorated with intricate floral lace patterns and sparkles, the ends of the skirt just brushing against the floor.

“Wow.” The boys were speechless. It would be cliche to say you looked like a princess but you did.

“Is it too much?” You raised an eyebrow with an amused laugh. The boys didn’t say anything but shook their heads, you were mesmerising. Although, what was able to break them out of their trance was when you walked forward to sling arms with Jin. He smiled down at you.

“H-Hyung... Y-You...”

“Jin asked if I had a ‘plus 1′ to tonight and I was so busy to find someone to go with me. He offered to be my partner for tonight and I didn’t have any objection.” You shrugged.

“I never said I didn’t ask her.” Jin snickered. The rest all looked at him with wide eyes of betrayal.

“Let’s go.” Jin patted your hand and led you out. The other 6 trailed behind, glaring daggers into the back of Jin’s head. Jin opened the door of his chauffeur limousine for you. You bowed your head slightly and slid in.

“Hyung!” Jungkook shouted in outrage.

“All’s fair in love and war. Don’t worry, I know what to do.” Jin waved the others off. Hoseok went to the other door.

“Nu uh. This is for me and her. You guys ride separately.” Jin pointed to the other car behind. Their jaws dropped, their cunning hyung already had everything planned. He played them and they fell for it like fools! Unwillingly, they trudged to the car while Jin slid into the seat beside you. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Don’t worry about them.” Jin chuckled.

“I’m excited to be going to an event where I don’t have my parents giving me a full briefing on who is who and what is what.” You smiled, smoothing your dress down.

“Yes, it’s a celebration for you too, doc. You deserve to enjoy it” Jin nodded his head. When the car stopped, the door was opened for you.

“Good evening.” The staff bowed deeply to you and Jin.

“Hey.” You greeted them.

“Bosses!” Seeing you and Jin, with the other 6 behind, everyone in the ballroom stopped to give the 8 of you a deep bow. Namjoon walked down first while you stayed behind Jin. The boys were received with big smiles and hugs.

“Come on, (y/n). Let’s go to the bar!” The maknaes were quick to steal you when they saw Jin distracted, speaking to the manager for his casino. You giggled, following their lead. All of you ordered your drinks and clinked your glasses together.

“Don’t you guys have people to greet too?” You asked the 3 boys, sipping from your glass.

“Nah.” Taehyung waved you off.

“Are you guys starting the party without us?” The 4 older ones soon joined. They ordered their drinks to toast with you. The 8 of you clinked all your glasses together with cheer.

“To, doc!” Hoseok grinned.

“To preventing us from dying!” Jimin added and everyone burst out laughing. You drank your drinks in one shot.

“I was just doing my job, boys. It was no big deal, really.” You smiled softly, looking at all of them. It wasn’t long until they were all being pulled away by their staff to talk.

“We’ll be back! Stay right here, I’ll come get you. There’s another surprise for you.” Jin winked. You nodded your head, waving with a smile as he was dragged away. You grabbed a plate of food and stayed by the bar, picking at the food with the forks. Some of the boys’ workers that you recognised came to chat and speak with you.

“Ah, please excuse me.” You said as you slipped away from the conversation, heading to the washroom.

“Ugh, finally. Some peace and quiet.” Yoongi grumbled as he stepped out onto the big balcony with his brothers. The others nodded in agreement, finally getting some space to breathe.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Jungkook asked.

“Jin hyung went to get her. I mean, afterall, she is his date tonight.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Jungkook said sourly. It was safe to say, the other 6 were still not over the fact that their eldest was able to sneak past all of them to ask you to be his partner for the event tonight.

“Whatever, after tonight, hopefully we’ll all have the chance to take her out on a date one day.” Hoseok comforted the maknae.

“That’s if she decides to accept us.” Yoongi snorted.

“I think I see hyung coming! Everyone, stand together.” Taehyung said excitedly. All the boys straightened up, standing in a sort of straight line. But they were not expecting Jin to run out of the ballroom alone, a look of fear and panic on his face.

“(y/n)’s gone.” Jin announced.

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enhyupn · 3 years

Text

start of it!

pairing: jungwon x fem!read (ft a little sunghoon)

disclaimer: there might be a few mistakes here and there since it’s not fully proof read. swear words are mentioned too!

word count: 7.1k+

genre: fluff, angst if you squint, best friends to lovers!au, rich kids!au, slow burn kinda?

a/n this took a while to write but i like how it came out :) i think i got a little carried away but it’s fine i suppose!! i hope you enjoy this longer than necessary fic :]

jungwon and you were always together, then and now. maybe being the children of two most influential families korea helped that, the constant underlying jealousy between the two families made for some interesting dinners. you two were the stereotypical rich kids, top of the class, class president and extremely involved in school. your image was the type other chaebol families would use to compare their children to. maybe that’s why every time you stand at the top of your class to make announcements, all you get are sneers from your classmates as they not so subtly laugh at you. it was inventible nonetheless, if you were in their situation you’d do exactly the same. it didn’t help that you were strict and blunt with your classmates, staying true to the cold and distant chaebol child stereotype.

jungwon the next class over however, was incredibly popular with the people in his class and even yours. you didn’t know how he did it, balancing his studies, taekwondo and still maintaining a good relationship with his class? you looked up to him immensely, even with your parents constantly reminding you that jungwon wasn’t your friend but a pawn from his family to get information on the company. obviously you never believed them, how could jungwon get information from you when all you talk about normal things. normal things like tv shows, books and his taekowndo matches. you wouldn’t know what to do with jungwon, he was your other half and you’d never be able to function properly without him.

dinner was never comfortable at your house, the silence only being broken up by the clattering of utensils and chewing didn’t even help the gloomy and dark aura your father always seemed to radiate. you were the only child and the heir in training to take over the family company. everyone around you had high expectations for you, being number one in everything you ever did allowed people to believe that you were going to skyrocket your family’s company to the number one spot.

“y/n, how was school” your mother always tried so hard to make conversation with you and your father every day. as much as you wished to be close to her, you couldn’t help but feel forced and awkward whenever you replied to her.

“it was good, we got our ranks today” you slowly chewed on the piece of duck you were served, not having the heart or energy to tell anyone that you never really liked the taste of it.

“i’m assuming it’s first place” your father butts in, the serious look in his face never fails to make you flinch in your seat.

“yes father, first place in my class and in school” you couldn’t help but gulp at the mood of the dinner table.

it was always like this after exam season, tension so tight that it was suffocating to be around. even the maids and butlers around the place hated being around your family every time results were announced, the thought of what would happened if you ever got anything lower than first place was terrifying.

“wonderful” a nod from your father was enough for your maids to stop holding in their breaths.

not even a good job? you had grown to learn that your father wasn’t someone that praised others easily. sadly, you had to learn it the hard way. countless memories from your past of you desperately wanting your father’s attention and praise flashed through your eyes. even so, it still hurt every time he wouldn’t acknowledge your achievements.

the ice rink was your special place, second to jungwon undoubtedly. still, you loved being there. it made you feel so free and happy, like all your worries had disappeared whenever you skated. you weren’t the only one that loved the rink, jungwon adored the moments when you would show off a new move you had finally nailed. the look of you being so carefree made him feel overjoyed, knowing he was the only one that could see you like this.

“jungwon did you see that?” a radiant smile appearing on your face after you landed an axel. the sound of your slightly hitting the rink’s barrier slightly scared you before looking up again at the boy.

“yes, and i’ve also seen the other five times you’ve done it” the pout formed on your face from his teasing only brought a larger smile on his face. jungwon’s face suddenly twisted into a confused look as he suddenly remembered a conversation you two had the previous week. “weren’t you struggling on that last week? i remember you telling me that”.

“oh i was!” the pink tinge from your cheeks due to the cold temperature in the air added to your cheerful chatter. “but sunghoon helped me with it”.

“sunghoon?” the name sending an unsettling feeling throughout jungwon’s body. the boy shook it off when he had made eye contact with you once again, your eyes wide with spirit. it was a shame that your classmates couldn’t see this side of you, the cold and scary y/n unironically melting when on the ice.

“sunghoon’s a really talented figure skater in my class!” the admiration in your voice and eyes churned things in jungwon’s stomach. “his triple axel is the most beautiful thing jungwon, you should really see him in action. he gave me some tips and they really worked!”.

“that’s great” jungwon couldn’t understand why he couldn’t feel as elated as you were. shouldn’t he be happy? his best friend perfectly landed something they were working on for a while and he couldn’t even be sincere with his praise? no, it was that boy sunghoon. that’s what was getting him annoyed and bothered, was it jealousy?

“look there he is!” you showed jungwon. the boy had proportions that were perfect, he towered over you and had undeniably incredible looks. jungwon watched as sunghoon’s eyes shined in delight when noticing you. the boy skated over quickly to you in excitement, anyone could tell that he was over the moon to see you.

the jealous feeling jungwon had in him only grew more watching you two. when sunghoon’s skates accidentally took him at a too fast of a pace, you lightly bumped into you. the countless apologies he spit out while you laughed loud and glowing at his ridiculous accident only made jungwon chew his cheek in spite. the unnecessary skin ship you two made didn’t help too, you were holding onto sunghoon’s shoulders in an attempt to stop him from falling again. that’s when jungwon had enough.

“y/n” he called out, catching the attention of the both of you. you turned around holding the same smile you gave sunghoon.

“jungwon?”

“i’ll get going now, dad wants me back home” a pretend smile placed nicely on his lips for you to not suspect something was wrong with him.

“sure!” the corner of your eyes crinkled, you lifted up your hand to wave him off. he was incredibly thankful that you weren’t observant enough to catch his cheerful facade. “tell him my father wants to have dinner with him again too!”.

“i promise”

standing from his seat he lifted his hand to wave you off. the disappointment in his eyes becoming more visible when he realised that you had already turned around. the dejected frown on his face showing up when he caught a glimpse of the boy beside you, laughing and chatting with you with a wide grin. you too having the exact same grin.

you were always the same at school, a blank face while in class and during after school activities. your parents always told you that school was never the time to make friends or have fun, it was for preparing yourself in the future. they drilled into you that everything you did in school would only add to you in the future. if you were to ever fail or do anything that was the opposite of what you were meant to be doing, you would inevitably ruin your future. the unimaginable amount of pressure your parents had given you slowly turned you from crying silently at night in your room to dealing with it with a blank stare on your face.

the only thing that made everything the slightest bit bearable was jungwon, you met him during breaks and lunch and even walked with him to your after school programmes. the feeling of being isolated by your class could only be ignored when you were with him.

“i don’t get how you do it” you stared at him in admiration. jungwon was practicing his taekwondo as you watched him, it was a routine you had every morning before school started. the boy chuckled as he continues doing his warm up.

“says you, you’re number one in our school plus you skate pretty too. everyone would love to be you”.

“no! that’s different” a growing blush tinted your cheeks, the small compliment makes you shy due to the fact jungwon never compliments you. “i don’t get how you balance taekwondo, your social life and still get good grades? plus have a good relationship with your family”.

“oh” jungwon’s smile faltered at the mention your parents. he always has felt guilty knowing the fact he can’t do anything to help you besides distract you from your parent’s extreme expectations. “i don’t know, maybe i’m just lucky” he tries a joke to keep the mood up.

“so it’s luck?” your laugh giving enough confirmation to jungwon that you weren’t affected by his comment.

your phone ringing distracts you from the conversation you and jungwon were having, even scaring you a little in the process. the bright expression coming from your face made jungwon notice that it definitely wasn’t a call from any of your family members. letting himself breathe again with the positive mood in the air, he decides that he needs to stretch before testing out any moves.

“sunghoon!” suddenly maybe the mood wasn’t so positive for jungwon. you turned to jungwon mouthing it’s sunghoon! happily as he tried to share the same excitement you had. “no i’m not busy”, you looked over at jungwon sending him an apologetic look as you stood up from your seat. “i’ll just be outside jungwon!” you covered the microphone as you told him before quickly walking outside.

what was that about? jealousy was creeping up behind him even if he didn’t notice. he never wanted to feel possessive when it came to you. truthfully, he was waiting for this day. the day that someone saw past your shy personality disguised with a cold and blunt front and saw you. he couldn’t stop the lingering feeling in his stomach, he hated it. but who was he to think about your relationships with other people?

that’s when he remembered the smile on your face when you mentioned him, the glee in your voice and expression when you were around him. you two were even close enough to call each other out of nowhere? maybe that’s when it clicked in jungwon’s head, did you like sunghoon? you were entitled to like anyone you wanted to, it shouldn’t be jungwon’s problem if that person just so happened to be sunghoon.

but why did the thought bother jungwon so much?

from the way you were dressed people would think that you were attending some special dinner with the president. however, your prettily styled hair and your best outfit and shoes seemed to only be reserved for the yang family. there always seemed to be an unwritten rule between the two families that you had to go all out when visiting each other, however you and jungwon just suspected if it was just a way to show off all the newest jewellery and clothes subtly.

there you two were, standing by the side of your parents in the hallways of your house. the size of it was unimaginable, maybe even being the length of an average apartment in a middle class area. the hallways was adorned with expensive paintings and sculptures being used to write off taxes, a large rug that might of costed more than your high school tuition placed right in the middle of it all. it was visible proof that your family was disgustingly rich, just how your parents wanted it to look.

there wasn’t an answer to why the two families stood in the hallways to speak when you had an equally, if not larger living room a door away, the room also being adorned with expensive paintings with a large tv nobody in the house used. jungwon and you always had trouble staying serious while your parents spoke to one another. you two would usually mouth things to each other, not even understanding what was being said. the small grins you two held were enough that if one of you let out a laugh, the two of you would be on the ground laughing your heads off.

“the food’s ready” your cook interrupted your father’s reply to jungwon’s parents. your father sent him a small grin and a nod as he signalled everyone with a extended arm to the dining room.

the dining room gave a view to the kitchen, it was like a performance for everyone in the kitchen whenever you had guests over. your favourite activity to not bore yourself besides talking to jungwon, was watching your cook plate everything while your parents conversed about business or what type of wine they were having that night.

“steak again” jungwon joked quietly at your side. you two always sat beside each other, while the parents talked the whole night you two would try and not cause a huge mess. it usually ended up a mess, remembering the time you two dropped roast potatoes all over the ground in an attempt to entertain to each other. now when you two are finished eating you are excused to go back to your room where you two can actually talk.

“be thankful it isn’t salmon” you giggled quietly. the memory of jungwon’s parents scolding him at the dinner table for not eating his salmon reappears back into your heads, the thought of it making you laugh a little louder than you were. “sorry” you politely said, noticing the silent glare your father had sent you for making a ruckus at the dinner table.

“i would of answered properly if you weren’t laughing silently about it in the corner of my eye” the main reason why the memory was so funny for the two of you was the fact that the reason he was scolded was due to the fact he couldn’t even attempt to pick up the piece of fish without you two laughing. you two were incredibly easy to make laugh as there is nothing more entertaining than your best friend doing absolutely nothing.

in the corner of your eye you noticed your father staring at you and jungwon, while at the same time participating in the conversation the adults were having. it was unsettling, knowing that in the next five or so minutes he’d ask you a question regarding anything to seem like his family is better than anything the yangs do.

“y/n” an automatic faux smile was placed on your lips when you heard his voice. placing down your cutlery before turning to him you captured the sickly sweet smile on your parents smiles, a sign they were trying to milk your achievements out one by one.

“yes father” the pitch in your voice going a little higher than what jungwon usually hears, but was used to it due to the many times he’s heard you talk to your parents.

“we were just talking about the fact that you’re starting out figure skating!” the tone in your fathers sudden cheery voice was so obviously fake to you, he never liked the fact you took precious time off to practice figure skating rather than studying to get into a seoul university.

“i am” you turned to the yang parents with the innocent well put child facade. “i started six months ago, my trainer told me that i was improving at a great speed!”.

“how beautiful” jungwon’s mom commented, “i’m sure jungwon’s watched you skate before, right sweetheart?”.

“they’re very graceful on the ice mom” the flattery turned your cheeks a soft rose colour. you turned to him to give a thankful smile, not noticing the growing red on the boy’s ears.

you turned around to glance back once again at your father, the look of his smug grin made you want to get up and leave. you hated feeling like just a trophy to show off to others, you longed for the feeling of being praised for the person you were.

“i’m sure jungwon’s doing excellent in school” your mother continued, looks like they’re about to hit them where it hurts.

“not as well as your daughter i’m afraid” a bitter smile was obviously placed on his father’s face, teeth gritting as he let it out. “jungwon’s told us quite a lot about y/n’s rank in school, number one right? a terrific achievement”.

“yes, it’s a shame that jungwon can’t seem to reach the same” jungwon’s mother continued. your father took a sip from his glass of wine. what was it and using your children as weapons to bring down one another? in the corner of your eye you could tell jungwon didn’t feel comfortable with any of this at all, he stiffened his body as you chewed slowly on his steak.

“he’ll get there some day” your mother was simply just adding fuel to the fire, it made you feel terrible for your best friend. you looked over to see the boy’s blank stare, the small frown on his face made it seem that it was almost begging you to go comfort him.

“can jungwon and i be excused?” you knew that you two needed to get out of there immediately, you weren’t going to let your parents excuse any of this. “i feel a bit queasy from the steak, jungwon can keep me company”.

“do what you wish dear” your father let out quite bitterly. you bowed in response before standing up, placing your hand on jungwon’s hand. you shook it a little as a way to signal him that you two were about to leave.

the oh he let out was all you needed to know that jungwon was going to follow you up to your room. you watched as he bowed for everyone in the room, before silently following you as you gripped onto his hand. the mood you two were letting out was unreadable, was he thankful for you? or was he completely and utterly embarrassed at the fact you did that.

“thank you” he whispered behind you, the warmth in his hand was all you needed to feel the comfort you were longing for at the dinner table.

“don’t sweat it jungwon” a smile forming on your face as you turned towards him. “it was suffocating being in there anyways”. he laughed to himself, understanding what you were saying as you dragged him forwards once you reached your room.

your room was unnecessary big, like every other room in your house. your bed was double the size you actually needed and you had a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. your ceiling also had hand painted flowers decorating it, simply adding to the beautiful chandelier. there wasn’t any expensive paintings or rugs in your room however, just a large vanity as well as a desk and a huge bookshelf with every book imaginable. you also had framed pictures of you and jungwon as children dotted around your room.

“look” jungwon picked up a picture of you two when you were in first grade. you were crying while jungwon was right beside you laughing, beneath you two was a broken sandcastle who you could distinctly tell who it belonged to. “i was so evil as a kid”.

“tell me about it” you looked at the picture in admiration. “i swore to myself that day i would hate you for a million million trillion hundred years” a chuckle left your mouth at the loving memory. memories with jungwon always left you happy, even the ones that weren’t as nice to experience firsthand.

“and this one” he picked up another picture. this time it was you and him maybe around three years ago at your family’s lake house. “you ignored me for the rest of the trip after i did this”. the two of you were on the balcony as he lifted you from the legs up, the scared look in your eyes made it obvious that the whole thing was a surprise. you were fond of that memory, you realised something that day about jungwon you never realised before. the thought of dating your best friend popped up in your head for the first time when that picture was taken. the thought horrified you so much that you ignored him for days on end after, making up the excuse that you were mad at him for scaring you that.

“look at my face oh god” the pink tint coming back to your cheeks remembering the story behind that picture. “that day i started—”. you shut yourself up quicker than expected.

“started what?” jungwon looked at you confused. you start curse yourself in your head for your mistake.

never in your many years of friendship could of prepared you for this. the you three years ago was exactly the same, except the fact that three years ago you found out you had feelings for jungwon and now you were about to accidentally spill the beans about those exact same feelings.

“it’s nothing” you shook your head dismissively . trying to distract yourself, you looked at the corner of your eye and noticed a picture of you two at your middle school graduation. your features softened at the happy grins on your faces, both holding a pretty bouquet of flowers the two of you gave each other. “i love this day so much, look we’re so happy”.

“our graduation?” jungwon moved closer to you to get a good look of the photo. “we look so cute”.

turning around to jungwon with a grin of being reminded of the special, you stopped abruptly. noticing how close he was you stepped back quickly, in a quite panicked manner. his eyes widened noticing your frantic moves, unsure why his stomach was churning at your panicked face.

“sorry” you play with the hem of your sleeve, embarrassed at the fact you were so close to him. you feel you face heating up and you weren’t so sure if you were blushing at the fact his face was almost touching yours or embarrassed by the way you staggered away from him. “you were really close to me”.

“sorry did it make you uncomfortable?” jungwon asked you with a concern expression on his face. you couldn’t tell him the reason you were so panicked was because your crush was so close to you. “i’ll be more careful next time”.

“no! you’re fine” a reassuring smile spread across your face in an attempt to calm him down.

the awkwardness following that incident was undeniable. you sat on your bed unsure what to say to make conversation with him, the problem was that you two usually had a lot to say. the situation right now was not how the two of you usually acted, the voices in your head silently yelling at you for being dramatic at the fact jungwon was so close to you.

jungwon on the other hand couldn’t stop replaying the image of you being so close to him. an unfamiliar feeling kept reappearing in his stomach, he’s never looked at you in this way ever. maybe the feeling sunghoon gave him was similar but at the same, it was far different.

“i don’t think— be careful” in rich kids fashion, jungwon was playing tennis with his equally as rich friend ni-ki, a transfer student in his class studying in korea until he graduates from a seoul university. a big emphasis on seoul due to the fact every rich child in korea have parents almost begging them to get into a seoul university or an ivy league.

the ball accidentally almost hitting jungwon rolls behind the boy, he could feel the exhaustion finally catching up on him from the non-stop moving he had done. he holds a hand up with a drained expression signalling his friend that he was done for maybe another thirty minutes or so.

“as i was saying...” ni-ki walked towards the tired boy holding out a water bottle. he quickly grabbed the drink from him before taking a large gulp, wiping off the excess water from the sides of his mouth. “hey! don’t drink all of that”.

“sorry” an exasperated gasp escaped jungwon’s mouth as he tried to catch up with his breathing. “carry on”.

“i don’t think you have the right to be jealous on who y/n likes” ni-ki takes a sip from the water bottle he took back. “isn’t kinda weird too? that you’re jealous about all of this”.

“i’m not jealous” he corrected him. “i don’t know, that sunghoon guy gives me a bad feeling”.

“that’s definitely jealousy” ni-ki let out a laugh looking at him. jungwon sent him a scowl before taking back the bottle from him. “anyways i thought you always had a thing for them” he starts to say as jungwon takes yet another sip, the boy looks at him in a confused way before pulling the bottle away from his lips.

“what are you trying to say ni-ki?”

“what i’m saying is that you can never go a day without mentioning y/n” he raised his eyebrow to try and convince him further. “plus you look at them with hearts in your eyes, and the fact you’re so bummed out about this sunghoon thing just confirms my suspicions”.

“i’m not following” jungwon looks back at ni-ki with a blank stare. the younger rolls his eyes before lightly hitting him on the shoulder. “no, seriously”. the boy sent him a glare before sighing.

“are you genuinely this oblivious or you just don’t want to tell me you like y/n?”.

“what do you mean like?” the word like seemed so unfamiliar to him at that moment. of course he liked you, you were his best friend. although from how ni-ki was speaking, he understood that he wasn’t talking about the best friend sort of like.

“you romantically like them” ni-ki said it casually, “here, i’ll ask you a question and you, silently, in your mind answer it. i want you to do it silently so you can have a realisation of some sort”.

“what do we need questions for—” he was quickly shut off by ni-ki’s shhhh as he continued his conversation. rolling his eyes at his friends antics, he quickly shuts up before listening to what he was trying to say.

“do you think about y/n when they aren’t around?”

yes? isn’t this normal though

“do you miss them when you aren’t with them?”

yes? again, isn’t this a normal thing?

“do you get happy when they achieve things? like you want to hug them or like... that thing people do why they lift someone up and spin them around”

yes?

“do you get jealous when other people get more attention than you?”

yes...?

“when you see them do you get butterflies?”

sometimes, i do definitely get nervous though

“i feel like all of those should more or less answer your question on if you like y/n or not” ni-ki finished off his short quiz. jungwon gave him a puzzled look, he thought everything he had mentioned was a normal thing that every feels with their best friend.

“aren’t these just normal things?”

“i mean they’re just the basics jungwon” he started out saying, “everyone’s different when they have a crush”.

“so that could mean i have a crush on you?” the joking smile placed on jungwon’s lips only made ni-ki roll his eyes at the corny joke.

“i’m flattered honestly but i’m sadly not y/n”

the sunset was a pretty shade of pink and orange, it made you feel light and at a sense of peace watching it. the thought of taking a picture suddenly appeared in your head, quickly reaching for your phone in a frantic action before the sky changes in colour. you felt embarrassed at the fact you were standing at the end of the sidewalk patting the sides of your coat in an attempt to find your phone, a confused expression spread across your face.

“aha!” you felt a familiar shape in the back pocket of your jeans. lifting up the object, you felt it slipping slightly. your eyes widened noticing a small thud behind you on the ground. turning around to reach your phone in hopes it wasn’t broken in any way, you noticed a familiar figure hovering above you holding out your phone in his hands.

“you dropped this” a playful tone rolled off sunghoon’s tongue. you happily take it off his hands before looking back up at him.

“sunghoon!” you beamed gleefully at him, “i thought you went home already?”.

“no” he rubbed the back of his neck, “i missed my bus so i had to wait here for a while. turns out there was an accident twenty minutes away so everything’s delayed”.

“oh no” you frowned at his words. your brain scanned through all the possibilities you could do to help the boy, your eyes lit up having the realisation on the perfect solution. “do you wanna walk with me? where do you live? i can just tell my friend that he doesn’t need to pick me up”.

“no no it’s fine y/n” sunghoon waves his hands dismissively. “you don’t have to do that, plus i bet you’d rather walk with your friend”.

“don’t be silly” you chuckle as you unlocked your phone, pressing jungwon’s contact you typed in many apologies telling him that you can’t walk with him since you’re walking with sunghoon. “i already told him”. your phone lights up again, a notification showing a reply from jungwon saying a simple okay.

“he doesn’t seem very happy” sunghoon stares at the notification. he looks back at you with seriousness in his eyes, “isn’t this the jungwon you and i were talking about?”.

“well yeah” you avoided eye contact with him, embarrassed that you were probably about to get scolded. not only does sunghoon help you with training but he also helps you in your love life. you two have probably talked more about jungwon than actual figure skating, sunghoon always sighing at you for once again not being able to tell him your feelings. “he’s been like that ever since last week, i thought this was normal. don’t boys also have puberty mood swings?”.

“what happened last week?” you two started to walk towards your destinations. sunghoon luckily lived quite near your house, well if you count just twenty minutes away from the gate of your gated community. you two have walked home together before, the action usually having a romantic undertone but you two never felt that way. you always have seen sunghoon as a friend, understanding that he’s never really given you the same feeling jungwon does. it goes the same for him, he sees you more as a younger sibling than anything.

“well, he started acting a little weird when you called me that morning”

“the morning i asked you how you and jungwon were doing?” sunghoon raises an eyebrow.

“yeah” you nod, confirming his guess. you let out a sigh before moving on to your next point, “and you know when i told you about that thing that happened when his face was really close to mine?”.

“the one where it was really awkward?”

“you didn’t need to mention it was awkward” you shiver in embarrassment remembering that night. “and yeah, after that he wasn’t really the same. plus do you know the weirdest part?”.

“what happened” sunghoon chuckled at your embarrassed pout silently to himself. you turned to him with your eyes wide and hands in the air about to animate your following words.

“his friend messaged me, his friend! the transfer student nishimura riki” your nose scrunched in confusion and frustration. your arms too also expressing your frustration. “his message was so weird too!”.

“what did it say?”

“i know who likes you” your frustrated expression was even more prominent. “it was so childish! i even replied with a question mark and he just sent me a sticker of a cartoon animal giggling!”.

“maybe he does know who likes you” sunghoon raises an eyebrow.

“he wouldn’t, nobody likes me” you frown at your own words. “he’s probably just messing with me like everyone else at school”. sunghoon stops in his tracks when he realised your miserable mood.

“hey—” sunghoon bent down a little to get a look at your face. “what’s wrong?”.

“it’s— it’s silly” you wipe your tears away. you weren’t expecting yourself to cry on an evening like this, especially not on the day you were walking home with sunghoon on.

“no y/n it’s okay” sunghoon looked around the area to see if there was anywhere to sit down at. noticing a bench near the two of you, he held onto your wrist bringing you to sit on it. “you can tell me anything y/n, i hope you know this”.

“i know” you sniffled, sadly smiling at the situation at that moment. “it’s just that i’m so tired of everything. jungwon acting weird with me was just the tip of the iceberg. i can’t help but think if i did anything to make him act like this”. sunghoon listened in silence, nodding at your words as he watched you in pity while tears streamed down your face.

“the fact that my classmates still ostracise me even though i try so hard to get to know them hurts so much. even though my parents tell me school isn’t for making friends, i desperately want to. i mean jungwon was there to help but like what i said before, he’s being really distant” the pace of your tears slowing down. “plus what his friend said didn’t help, it just felt like i was just the pit of a joke i wasn’t even aware of”.

“y/n i don’t know if i should say this but i think jungwon really—”

“y/n?” a familiar voice cut off sunghoon’s words. “are you okay? why are you crying?” you look behind sunghoon and realised it was jungwon saying all those things. you watched as his concerned expression warped into a furious one, his focus on sunghoon’s hand still on your wrist. you felt your eyes widen as you quickly shook off his grasp, standing up from the bench as you wipe the excess tears on your face.

“what did he do to you?” his words directed at you but his glaring eyes didn’t leave sunghoon. the realisation that jungwon misunderstood the whole situation dawned over you. taking a step forward you tried to open your mouth in an attempt to calm him down, only to be stopped by sunghoon who had his arm extended out, blocking your path to jungwon.

“i didn’t do anything” sunghoon explained calmly. he turned to you before looking back at the enraged boy. “i understand why would think that but honestly, it’s you two who need to have a talk, a long talk” he chuckles silently to himself before standing up.

“i wasn’t done talking to you—”

sunghoon gave him a smile before patting his shoulder, “just listen to what they have to say”. you watched as he waved you two off as made his way home. you stared at sunghoon’s walking figure in shock, not sure if you were entirely thankful he left you with an angry jungwon.

“did he do something to you y/n?” he made his way to you in a panic, his eyes scanning you to see if there was anything wrong with you. “i swear to god, i knew there was something wrong with him” he tried to look at your face, your head facing the ground blocking his view. “hey, look at me” his voice softening as he tried once again to get your attention.

“i’m sorry” tears welled up in your eyes again as you made eye contact with him. you couldn’t understand why you were crying, maybe it was all the emotions building up to this moment. even so, you were incredibly happy that jungwon was so concerned and even came to look for you. “sunghoon didn’t do anything, i was just venting to him”.

“y/n... did something happen?” his worried eyes looking hard into yours.

you played with you fingers as you tried to think hard on what to say next, is this the right time? i mean, in all honesty you had nothing to lose. in fact it was the perfect moment to confess your feelings, well after you explain everything to him.

“no” you sniffled, wiping away more tears you turned to him with a small smile. “let’s get home, shall we?”. he looked at you with bothered feeling, noticing it you frowned. “maybe i should tell you” you quietly let out, a silent chuckle following it.

“please tell me why you were crying y/n” his soft voice had hints of distressed tones in it, he was so visibly concerned about you. it’s possible that’s when you were reminded why you love jungwon, he cared about you so much that it felt like he could do anything for you. you gulp before opening your mouth, instantly closing it when words couldn’t come out. “hey... y/n?”.

“i can’t explain” that’s when you opted out of telling him how you felt. you thought that he already cared about you as a best friend, if he didn’t like you back. it was break down everything you had. you sigh before facing him once again. “we should really get going—”

“when— when you sent me that message, telling me you didn’t need me to walk you home because of sunghoon, it made me so upset and mad” he laughed to himself, the stutter in his words making him realise how nervous he was. you jump a little in shock when you realised his hand found its way to yours. the warmth of it soothed you, a pink tinge finding its way to your cheeks, an occurrence that always seems to happen whenever you were with jungwon.

“i stayed home sulking about it, messaged ni-ki about it and he was so mad at me” his eyes looked sincere, the pink tinge suddenly growing into a red one. “he told me if i didn’t, and i quote, get my ass there and walk you myself, he’d tackle me onto the ground”.

“i don’t get why you’re telling me this—”

“so i did” he continued, not stopping to explain anything to you but his own story. “i got up from bed and started travelling on the street you usually walked home on. i don’t know what i was expecting, but seeing you cry on that bench with that sunghoon guy beside you made me incredibly upset. i thought he did something to you! i can tell that i misread that completely”.

“jungwon” you speak up. you had no idea why he was reciting any of this, what was this even leading up to? a grin lights up on his face, the feeling his hand squeeze yours lovingly confusing you even more. “please tell me what your telling me-”

“i like you y/n” a sudden serious tone appearing. “not even like, i’m probably in love with you”. the shocked look on your face made him laugh endearingly, he pulled your hand lightly to bring you closer to him. “i mean it, honestly. it took three days of me thinking about what ni-ki had told me to even realise it”.

“so he wasn’t lying” you let out, still not recovering from the shock. you slowly move your head up to catch a glimpse of jungwon’s face, who quite literally snapped you back into reality. “wait, you like me really?”.

“yes!” he laughed as he pulled you into a hug, sending butterflies to your stomach. “why? do you not like me back?”.

“no!” you look at him in surprise. “wait! i do like you, it might be love too. i figured it out three years ago, when we were at my lake house”.

“three years ago?” the surprised look on his face slowly morphed into an endeared one once he caught you looking up at him with a cheesy smile. “you win with that one i guess”. the smiles on you both of your faces didn’t seem to falter while looking into each other’s eyes, the warm-cold breeze and the lightly tinted pink on both your cheeks adding to the scene.

“are we dating now?” he jokes as he takes out leaf from your hair.

“when did that get there” you place your hand on the spot the leaf was on. laughing it off, you look back up at him. the feeling of you in his arms still made your stomach flip, in a good way of course. “and yes, i suppose so?”.

“so now i can tell my parents i’m dating the smartest person in the country, as well as the prettiest?” he squeezes you tighter in a loving hug.

“so you’re just with me for my brains and looks?” sarcasm dripping from your words as you let out a loud laugh. “i’m kidding jungwon, yes you can tell them if you want to”.

“what are you gonna tell your parents?” a curious grin placed on his face.

“i’m dating my three year long crush”.

“as if they’d believe i’d be their precious child’s crush” he laughed as he loosened the grip on you. holding out his hand, you realised quickly that he wants you to hold it. “let’s get you back home before your parents send the police to look for you”.

“sure” you take his hand as you two walked down the street. both your sides looking as if you two were glued together from how the space was closed between the two of you, leaving no gap in between.

you always dreamt about your high school love story, even with your hectic schedule crushing you down everyday.

what you never expected was that your best friend was the start of it all.

#enhypen angst #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #kpop angst #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop x reader

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millllenniawrites · 3 years

Text

enchanted (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part one of dear love of mine

summary: The last thing you wanted was to fall in love. That was your sisters’ job, to marry and have a small army of children for your mother to dote on. But when the man courting your eldest sister brings a mysterious guest to stay with your family for the summer, you may not have a say in the matter.

words: 1.5k

warnings: afab!reader; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: the series i’ve been talking about for months is finally here!! Totally was supposed to post this yesterday but I forgot. I started outlining this after reading @writefightandflightclub ’s Regency Femdom Week 2020 fic Of Rears and Vices and watching Bridgerton was like taking steroids so here you go!! I haven’t done an actual series in a long time so i’m super stoked about this whole thang. this is a short chapter cause I want you guys to get to know the universe and the characters but the next few are gonna take some time because they are long bois

You sat at the window, looking down at the long drive that led up to your estate. Lord Barnes was supposed to arrive before lunch and, though your stomach rumbled, you didn’t take your eyes off the horizon.

“You’re almost more nervous than I am.” Ana called.

You blinked quickly to allow your eyes a moment to adjust from the bright light outside to the dim interior of her room. Your sister stood in the doorway, her hair glinting in the sunlight. Her blue dress complimented her features and, even without the sun, you were sure she would have been glowing.

“You remember that I’m the one he’s courting, right?” Her slippered feet whispered against the floor as she crossed the room, hopping up into the window seat across from you.

“Of course I remember.” You flailed your leg out, striking her in the shin with your foot. “It’s only the happiest day of my dear sister’s life.”

She tossed a scrap of paper into your lap. On it, scrawled in a neat print, was yet another declaration of love from the strapping Lord Barnes for your sister.

You read aloud, “My dearest, Ana, how I do miss your gaze. The stars here are truly incomparable, having seen your eyes— Is this what men think is charming?!”

She snatched the paper from your hands. “I think it’s charming!”

As you laughed, you snorted, sending her into a fit of giggles right alongside you.

“I really do think he’s going to propose this time, Ana. And you know I’m happy for you.”

The summer prior, Lord Barnes had been in town on business, settling assets after the tragic death of his father. To distract himself from his mourning, he had begun going door to door, learning the names of the people who lived in the county he had so suddenly inherited.

Ana had not stopped talking about him since and, if his letters were any indication, he was just as charmed as she was.

“Of course I know that.” She turned around, flopping herself back into your lap. “You also know that by my marrying Lord Barnes, I’m helping you secure a suitable match.”

“A suitable match!” You couldn’t help but laugh again. “For Siena, yes. For me?”

“You cannot keep your nose in those books forever! I cannot let you. Don’t you think you’ll get lonely in this big house all by yourself?”

“A marriage would simply hand over our family’s legacy to whatever man decided to sign the papers. I do not think that is what Father would have wanted.”

She rested her elbows on your legs and leaned her chin onto her palms. “I think Father would have wanted you to be happy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved your poor sister out of your lap and onto the floor. She landed with a soft grunt and a flurry of skirts and immediately tried to clamber back into your arms.

Ana loved to remind you that you would be tasked with taking care of the family property once your mother passed. She had seen it as such a burden that, even as the eldest of three girls, your parents had decided she could pass on the responsibility. Siena, the youngest of the three Dean daughters, was just as enamoured with the idea of marriage as Ana was, so the future of the estate had passed to you without complaint. Their wish was to be romanced and married. Yours was stability. And with your father gone, your mother wasn’t about to keep any of you from your true wishes.

Siena was in her room, no doubt pruning and prepping for the arrival of Lord Barnes — it didn’t matter that she wasn’t the sister he was coming to visit, she had reminded you — and you did miss her presence as you and Ana shoved at each other and grappled for her letter. It was moments like this was you cherished, knowing that soon, handsome men would arrive and sweep your sisters away. Your house would be left empty of two of the most precious things you had ever beholden.

“Girls!” Your mother shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You and Ana squished yourself together in the window seat. A dark carriage had begun it’s way up your drive.

“Girls!” She shouted again. “Come down here!”

You and Ana raced out of her bedroom and down the long staircase. Both out of breath by the time you reached the bottom, you clutched each other.

Your mother and Siena stood side by side, their arms crossed. They were mirrors of each other, their coiled hair pinned into place and eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

Siena turned her nose up at your giggling, but you could see a glint of playfulness in her eye. Though she tried to appear sophisticated, her twelve-year-old spirit wasn’t easily quelled, much to your mother’s dismay.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get married, sister?” Siena’s voice was soft, more like silk than sound.

“He hasn’t proposed yet. You needn’t be so serious.” She skated over to Siena and wrapped her arms around her sister’s middle, swinging her around.

“And when the Lord Barnes proposes, Ana will be quick to get ready. Just you watch.” Your mother winked at you before grabbing Ana’s arm, pulling her off Siena. “They are about to arrive. Go look presentable.” She shooed both your sisters towards the front doors before limping along behind them.

Mister Kirk, your family’s butler, stood off to one side. He was a thin man, the grey hair atop his head so thick that it looked as thought he might topple over at a moment’s notice.

You nodded your head to him. “Thank you for the work you’ve done setting up for our guest, Mr. Kirk.”

“It is my job, Miss Dean.” He said softly. Your sisters would have teased you about the fondness in Mister Kirk’s face had they been there, but the opening of the front doors had thoroughly distracted them. “And it is guests, Miss. More than just Lord Barnes is set to join us for the summer.”

You cocked your head but didn’t dare say more. It must have been a new development. Why else would your mother not share this with you?

You didn’t wait for Mister Kirk to elaborate, heading towards the open doors of your home.

The carriage pulled up right in front of the steps. A footman hopped down from the back of the carriage, setting a stool out before opening the door.

Lord Finneas Barnes stepped out of his carriage, grinning up at your family. “Hello Ladies Dean!” He called, waving grandly.

You all curtsied, a chorus of ‘Hello Lord Barnes’ causing his smile to widen further. “There’s no need for the formalities. Please. Call me Finn.”

Everything about him was refined, down to the buckles of his shoes. His dark hair had been done in waves, tight to his head, giving him the impression of wearing a crown. And he walked like it. His smile was sweet, but everything else about him oozed boldness and masculinity.

You could have sworn Ana nearly swooned beside you. A curious mischief glittered behind her eyes.

When you looked back to the carriage, another figure was stepping through the door.

The stranger tossed his head, his thick curls bouncing back away from his eyes to reveal his sharp features. He was dressed in blue, clearly a military uniform. Various pins on the front of his coat winked in the sunlight. His dark eyes quickly took in your family waiting on the steps and his dark eyes stalled when he reached you. Mouth quirking in a slight smile that had your heart racing, his gaze passed on.

The two men ascended the steps. Your mother curtsied again, the rest of you following behind her.

You could not take your eyes off the mysterious gentleman.

“This is General Dameron, I presume?” Your mother asked.

“The one and only,” Lord Barnes boasted, clapping the gentleman — General Dameron — on the back.

The General bowed. “Thank you for hosting us while the Barnes estate is renovated, Lady Dean. Your invitation for me to join Finn here was the best surprise I’ve had since the Coast.”

The Coast. You vaguely remembered hearing about the war from the girls in town last summer. They’d had brothers and fathers go to fight — and come back victorious, if your memory served you — but as your household was of only girls, you hadn’t been particularly invested in the news of battles that did not impact your family.

“It’s not a problem.” You heard your mother say.

Ana griped your arm, viciously whispering, “He’s quite handsome,” before dragging you back into the house.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the General and your mother politely discussing something — the topic of conversation could have been the weather for all you heard of it. It was as if your ears had been stuffed with cotton.

The General’s dark eyes met yours again and your breath caught. You tore your gaze away, snapping your head around to face forward.

It would be the last you’d see of him for the rest of the day.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #regency au #star wars #oscar isaac fic #mywriting #dear love of mine

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therealmintedmango · 3 years

Text

Cerberus - Part Two

Summary: “Good morning, little bird.” The prince named Hoseok’s smile widens as he gazes down upon me. I swear his eyes spark with a bright light behind them, but I think a lot of things this morning it seems. I almost forget my manners and do a simple polite curtsy, trying to be as fluid as I can this morning. Hoseok chuckles as he gives a dramatic sweeping bow, responding to my royal mannerisms. “May I have the honor of escorting you into the great hall this morning?”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut

Beta Read By: @justanothergirlfromeurope Thank you so much my darling for helping me with this! You are wonderful! Thank you! 💖You are the best I swear!

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 4,449

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Possible Yandere Vibes in the future; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Implied Incest (nothing happens - I promise); Mentions of being naked/ being seen naked; I think that’s it.

Tag List: (Please notify me if you wish to be added/ no longer want to be apart of the tag list!) @openup-yourmind, @deeepvibes, @heoniebaby, @xxsunny-side-upxx

I wake from my slumber, by two kind-looking women who are plucking the bloody bed sheet from my sore body.

“Come now, deary,” a small, plump woman shakes me awake. I rub the sleep from my eyes as she and another woman direct me to a washtub. I do as I am told, remembering that I was saved by several handsome prince-like men last night. My legs feel like jello and I still don’t think I could say anything to these two ladies who are stripping me naked in the middle of the unfamiliar room. “Have to get you all pretty before breakfast.”

I open my mouth to speak but I cannot find the strength to summon a query or whisper as to where I am and who these ladies with kind smiles are. I am tired and my muscles ache. The last thoughts of my brothers weigh heavily upon me, sinking me like a heavy anchor into a deep ocean of worry.

One of the women seems to notice the struggle of my jaw opening and closing like a voiceless puppet. “Don’t fret, darling. You seem like you’ve had a rough night.”

A small sliver of a smile graces my lips as I give a small nod. I admire the power these women have, being able to speak so freely to me. The maids and butlers and even guards back in my kingdom would have their tongues cut if they so dared whisper to the royal children. “It’s very early, I know you’d rather be sleeping.” The smaller one winks to me as they practically drag me across a grand room. There are ornate couches and furniture and wolves carved into the edges of wood on every surface. It must be the chosen animal for the clan’s crest.

“That’s right! Master Seokjin demanded you be attended to bright and early!” The taller of the two nods, helping me into the basin of the warm water that smells of lilac. The floral scent relaxes me instantly, making me sigh when the warmth of the liquid invades my senses. This is much nicer than the baths I had drawn at home. This basin actually is big enough for me, not the toddler-sized one I was sitting in only hours ago. “Said you were gonna freeze to death in the middle of the wood, he did.”

“The bog is a dangerous place to be at night, love.” The short one tells me as I find myself transfixed with the trinkets in the room around me while the ladies scrub the blood and thorns from my body.

This room is simple, yet elaborate at the same time with candlesticks, shelves of books, and tapestries lining the walls. There are several maps of the world, a steaming pot of something that smells like tea on an organized table. A detailed, embroidered dress hangs from a curtain dropping at the foot of the bed. I presume that’s for me then? I think as I drink in the lavish sights with my eyes.

The fire crackles in the hearth and I revel in the flames of warmth radiating from behind me.

My eyes wander about the room letting the two middle-aged women comb the tangles from my hair and remove the dirt from my fingernails. They scrub and talk to me, though I zone them out, too mesmerized by everything around me to voice back my thoughts. I see a tall, detailed portrait of the seven boys from yesterday on the west wall. The water soothes my aching muscles while my weary orbs trace over the faces I remember from yesterday.

Some of the boys I recognize: the boy with the mole under his mouth, the tan boy with the very deep voice, and I could never forget the dark-haired, prince-like, puffy-lipped man with the soft voice. Only two or three of them are smiling, standing behind what appear to be their parents. All their eyes seem to sparkle like an amber, like the color of sunlight filtering in through white curtains.

Still unable to speak, I raise my arm and point to the picture causing both ladies to halt their activities upon my body, following my arm with their gaze.

“Ah, yes!” The taller one quips giggling as she resumes untangling my locks. “Your saviors!” I tilt my head in confusion.

“Your saviors are the beloved princes of Bangtan, deary.” The stout one chuckles softly next to me.

Ah. So they are princes then. I study their handsome faces in the painting. The art does them no justice. They are far more attractive in person, I wish to say but can only create the thought.

I feel like I’ve heard a few things about the kingdom next to mine in the north. Bangtan is the kingdom's name and they are clad in purple and gold. They were said to be pompous and ill-fit to rule their kingdom because of their mysterious coming up into the realms according to my king. I shake my head at the thought of his poisonous words. I see that father’s words mean nothing to me now as I never meant anything to him.

My mind flashes to my brothers again… All thirteen of them… were they okay? Would they make it out of the situation I put them in? Would the kingdom crumble or would Seungcheol step up to rule over the throne? My mind races then. Worry clouding my mind as I tremble in the washtub, the concern rolling through my body. My mind tells me that it’s possible they could all be rotting in a pool of their own blood while I am bathing in warm, lilac water.

“I know you’ve had a rough night, love,” the shorter woman helps me stand from the fragrant water, patting my tired body dry with soft linen in sync with the taller one, “but know that you are in no better hands than the princes of Bangtan.” I choke on my tears, knowing that I am in no position to wail in front of these nice ladies.

I realize that I bought my freedom, but the cost for the rest of my family might be too high of a coin to pay.

They place a white silk slip on my body. I look down to the small cuts on my arms and legs where the thorns sliced my skin last night. The tiny wounds that I was sure were littered all over my body are almost healed. Was I going crazy or was this some sort of witchcraft? I could have been overwhelmed yesterday and exaggerated the damage that I thought was occurring to my body.

That was probably it.

“Lacy is right.” The tall one coos at me, sitting me down at the small vanity in the corner of the room to start plaiting my damp hair. “They invited you to stay in the castle as their guest.”

My eyes widen as I look at my reflection in the gold-trimmed mirror, topped with a mighty wolf head. The ladies rotate their fingers over and over each other but I can’t help but focus on the split in my lip. My mind remembers the blow my father inflicted upon me before I murdered him. I raise my hand to ghost my fingertips over the dried blood upon my mouth, but the one named Lacy softly lowers my arm, shaking her head at my action.

I listen and obey her.

“And just in time, right? Dear sister, Sophia...” They twist and pin my braids to my scalp, placing everything just right, like this was a mundane routine for them. One applies a salve to the cut in my lip, the other sprays me with a perfume of sorts. It doesn’t tickle or sting my nose like the ones the men of court wear so I am delighted to wear a light fragrance. “The harvest moon ball is only in a few days' time...”

They sit me up, parading me to the bed, to dress me in the beautiful, ornate garment. The fabric is soft and does not scratch me like the gowns I am used to wearing. They place matching slippers upon my feet, making the shiver I had dissipate. They fit me with lilac-colored gloves that match my gown and I nearly swoon, feeling like a proper lady once more. I can actually move in this clothing, I think with a smile when the ladies move from me, stepping back to admire their work.

“Yes, I’m sure the princes will surely invite you.” Lacy nods her head in agreement, her wrinkled eyes trailing over me as I spin on my heel with glee in the shiny outfit.

“Thank you,” I whisper, though my voice is rough from little use, looking up to them, speaking for the first time to the nice ladies.

They just smile and nod as they usher me out of the room.

I notice that the castle I find myself in is quite different than the one I used to reside in. My home was cold, the windows shut a lot of the time, happiness not really present in the walls beside the time spent with my dear brothers. The sunshine spilling through the curtains was a welcomed sign, warmth, and life filling the halls as the staff of the castle run back and forth in the early morning. A light melody of a piano is heard, teasing my ears with the soft sound. Who plays with such emotion? I ask myself as I smell cured meats and foreign spices wafting from a different side of the house. Smiles and bows greet me as the older ladies fluff and pander to me, leading me down several detailed, highly decorated corridors. There are paintings, portraits, and vases with bright flowers lining the walls and the halls I am escorted through. I can’t help but muster a smile, looking at all the interesting things that line the walls. Even the wolves etched into the finest materials smile when they loom over the heads of the humans who flit and flutter about.

Everything is so beautiful here, so kept up with, no hair out of the braid descending from my head. Even though this is my first time being here, I don’t feel out of place at all.

“Breakfast is being served in the great hall.” Sophia nods as they continue to lead me this way and that. “I hope you like blueberry scones; all the princes love them.”

“Prince Seokjin’s secret recipe is to die for.” Lacy winks at me as they bring me to the foot of a grand marble staircase. “Oh-!” I startle as the prince with the tall, lithe frame looks up at me, descending the steps with a wide smile upon his lips. His hair is the color of a cherry, so bright and brilliant, a hard candy could hold no flame to the vivid strands upon his head. He stands confident with his hands clasped behind his back in his royal purple get-up, the color so rich and pretty next to his fiery locks. His amber-like eyes follow my every move, trained on me and only me. I cannot help but flush under his weighty stare. I’ve never meant anyone with such an intense gaze that wasn’t intimidating to me. This prince has the confidence of ten warlords, oozing from all his being and I know he must be like a lethal predator. But am I the prey? His amber irises don’t frighten me, his eyes tracing the outline of my figure in his. “Prince Hoseok, good morning!” The sisters bow behind me and I can’t help but follow suit.

“Good morning, Lacy, Sophia. Thank you.” He nods to them, raising one hand to shoo them away from his presence. They bow once more and take their leave, winking at me with knowing grins upon their faces. “Good morning, little bird.” The prince named Hoseok’s smile widens as he gazes down upon me. I swear his eyes spark with a bright light behind them, but I think a lot of things this morning it seems. I almost forget my manners and do a simple polite curtsy, trying to be as fluid as I can this morning. Hoseok chuckles as he gives a dramatic sweeping bow, responding to my royal mannerisms. “May I have the honor of escorting you into the great hall this morning?”

“Please.” Is all I can choke out, voice still scratching and aching from lack of use. He smiles so lovelily then, his pearly canines on display as he holds out his elbow clad in the finest of materials colored in rich purples out to me. I take his elbow and try to match his bright simper, though he is like the sun and I am but a rock floating about in space to his brilliant light.

Along the way to the great hall where we are said to dine, Hoseok calmly points out rooms, servants’ doors, and other small halls around the castle. I admire his presence for some odd reason. The prince greets all of his staff all by name if they catch his eye, pausing the tour to greet them warmly. Being glued to his elbow as the staff all flounce about really make the castle feel like a hive of bees, all dancing along with their platters and cleaning supplies.

The piano music that tickled my ears when I first exited my room grows louder as we reach the end of a long, tall hallway with windows on the other side of the route. Beyond the glass I see that a light covering of snow has dusted over the land, rooftops and tree branches looking like a painting of beautiful untouched scenery. If the princes had found me any later, I would have been frozen in the bog, left to rot with the fallen leaves. I feel a little bad my focus has drifted from the kind prince to wondering about my brothers once more.

Were they all right? Would my brothers stand their ground? Most of them know how to fight, but the younger ones who are not much older than I? How will they fair? Will they be victorious?

“Little bird,” Hoseok pauses before he takes me into the room where the ivory keys were being played inside. I fear he might have noticed my waning interest in his detailed explanation of the origins of the castle. “I don’t mean to pry or be rude in any form, but it does appear to me that you have been... mistreated in some way.” My gaze lowers to my feet. I’m unaware that his amber eyes are watching me from the sides of his sockets. “Would you like to speak to a doctor about your… lip?” He muses softly, speaking to me gently to calm my nerves.

My mind flashes to the nasty split in my lip in my mouth. I bet it is hard to gaze upon me like this, in this place of light and beauty and happiness. I don’t want to taint the scene or add to burden my saviors any more than I already have. I nod twice.

“I shall arrange a time sometime soon, little bird. Do not worry.” Prince Hoseok practically purrs as he wastes no time knocking on the door with his free hand. “Yoongi,” he says at a normal volume. “Time for breakfast!” The pretty music stops abruptly, the sound of patting footsteps takes place of the emotional melody that was gliding through the morning air.

The door containing prince Yoongi opens to reveal the shorter, white-haired brother. His brightly colored irises are the same as Hoseok’s though, intense, vibrant, and unyielding. He gives me a wide, gummy-smile once he spots me attached to his brother's arm. “Good morning Hobi, little bird.” I do a tight cursty, still attached to Hoseok’s limb. Prince Yoongi closes the door behind himself, holding out his elbow for me to take.

A giggle finds itself in my throat at the gesture. It reminds me of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin all fighting over who would escort me on walks around the castle grounds. I miss the way their nostrils flare and eyes dilate with the noise I make.

Delighted by the two princes, I am led down the long hallway and into the giant dining hall. I see why they call it the “great hall”. It is one of the biggest, grandest places I have ever found myself in. Not that I ever got the opportunity to leave my castle or kingdom, but this architecture and sculpting of the pretty and ornate design of the hall makes my head spin.

My eyes don’t know where to look first! I am awestruck by the magnitude of luxury and grandeur surrounding me.

There are paintings of Greek gods and goddesses on the ceiling, all hailing canines around their shimmering bodies, outlined in sparkling gold leaf paint. There are two three-headed dogs surrounding one golden-eyed canine in the middle of the painting, looking calm as the beasts are lavished with treats and presents by what appear to be mere mortals. Vases that are taller than any human I know are placed along the walls, perfectly containing flowers that I’ve never seen before. The table in the center of the room stretches across the marble flooring with seats on each side, covered in a beautiful purple cloth that shines in the morning sun from outside.

On top of the silkened fabric sit golden candelabra with candles burning slowly perched inside the holders, and placed around the golden items is every breakfast item I know and so many more I do not know the names of. The variety includes various cured meats, soft breads, delicate and soft cheeses, fruits of the land and beyond contained in little glass jars, pastries with honey and nectar drizzled on top of the gooey items, clear containers with various colored liquids sit in them, waiting for me to drink and eat them. My mouth waters at the sight, the scent making me nearly drool at such divine dishes on golden platters, practically forgetting that there are princes at the end of the long table I have yet to properly meet yet.

“Little bird!” Exclaims the very handsome, well-spoken prince I remember meeting in the thicket. He gets up from his seat at the head of the table as I enter the room, his lush smile making my cheeks heat as I untangle from the princes’ arms I had the pleasure of holding onto and give a polite bow with my dress. “I am delighted to see you so bright and early.” His brothers seated around him stand promptly, shifting their attention to me.

I feel as if I’ve stumbled into a pack of hungry wolves as the men’s gazes linger upon my face.

They all smile and I feel like I am putting a damper on their lively spirits. I remember the split in my lip and I am so embarrassed that they’ve seen me in such a dreadful state. Though I am most grateful I have been washed and presented neatly, I wonder if they will think of me as the foulest of creature? These princes are so uniquely different and handsome it is unfair they should share their space with the likes of myself...

“Good morning!” Comes the deep voice I distinctly recall, pulling me from my thoughts.

“G-Good morning.” I echo his words and he seems rather pleased that I meet his gaze. A boxy, wide smile graces his lips, the amber-colored eyes all the princes have been blessed with glimmer at me from under thick-rimmed glasses frames.

“Are you feeling well enough to attend breakfast, little bird?” The tallest one with the coiffed hair the color of honey simpers. A chair is pulled out for me to sit next to himself and the prince that carried me but a few mere hours ago.

I give a slight nod and bow as I take my place at the table. “I am. I thank you, your graces.” I say with a sincere smile upon my face before the prince at the head of the table sits once more.

“Please indulge in whatever you’d like.” He winks under his dark fringe at me. A fresh flush blooms onto my face as the princes direct their hardworking staff to put their favorite foods upon my golden plate.

The princes talk and laugh amongst themselves, including me in almost every conversation and I do my best to keep up and participate, though I fear I am not giving them enough of my attention. I am trying as much as one can understand. This whole setting feels oddly familiar, the sitting with many siblings, sharing inside conversations about such frivolous things and it makes me miss my brothers dearly. I hope they are well and healthy. I ache for the loud shouting and screeching across the table and perhaps long for the princes to gaggle and squabble about, having sword fights at the table with their knives like my older brothers all did when we all sat and ate. They are much more refined than my kin, it would appear, or they are holding back because they are in the presence of a lady.

Speaking of ladies and their likeness...

After I have turned my golden fork over on my plate, I realize I ate more than anyone at the table and I am rather embarrassed of myself.

“No need to be shy about breakfast.” The head of the table states after a drink of his orange liquid. “We always have a light breakfast before we go for a long ride, lunch and dinners are more for the heavier palettes.”

“Forgive me, your grace.” I smile with my words, dawning a thought I've had in my brain since they first found me. “It might be silly to ask all of you now but, may I request names of the princes who all saved me from the bog?”

“Oh, little bird, I am dreadfully sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves properly to you.” The head of the table stands and approaches me. I go to stand but he shakes his head at me so I refrain and sit facing his direction.

“Speak for yourself.” Prince Hoseok chuckles as I give a small giggle myself.

“I am prince Seokjin, head of the house and the table,” I laugh at his little joke he threw into his monologue, “and I am the top dog of Bangtan.” He bows to his knees and kisses the top of my gloved hand. “Anything you shall need, I am more than happy to provide it for you.”

“Thank you, your grace.” I muse with a flush upon my face.

I have never been courted or know what it feels like but I can only assume it feels like burning torches in one’s gut, mixed with fluttering wings of insects.

“You may remember my brother Yoongi from your escort down the music hall?” Prince Seokjin introduces his white-haired brother behind him as he stands with another wink and fluffy smile.

A chuckle finds my lips again as Yoongi bows in front of me, mirroring exactly what Seokjin had just performed himself.

“We have met, your grace.” I simper to the prince on his knees before me. Amber eyes linger on my own and I wish I knew what he was trying to communicate to me silently.

“You’ll have to hear me play my favorites sometime soon. I’m afraid I was merely just tapping the keys.” The second-born prince smirks as he is replaced by prince Hoseok.

“And you know Hoseok already.” Prince Seokjin smiles fondly as the wild brother bows and dramatically takes the spot on the ground before me.

“I believe I have, your grace.” My smile is sincere as Hoseok’s grin is wide as he moves to the side so the prince I was sitting next to could get to introduce himself to me.

“Namjoon is our worldly scholar and recent college graduate.” Seokjin proudly introduces the fourth eldest.

“Congratulations on your accomplishments, prince Namjoon.” I praise him, though I’ve never been to college myself, I can imagine such a thing is hard, even for a man.

“You both flatter me.” Prince Namjoon’s voice is so clear and direct as he stands with a soft smile on his sharp face.

“Our prettiest flower in our family garden, Jimin.” Seokjin pulls the brother forward with rounded cheeks and eyes that form little crescent moons as he smiles with delicious-looking pillow lips.

He says nothing, seemingly too shy to say anything as he hastily - yet rather gracefully - takes his position at my feet. But, I feel it rude if I don’t give him a word from my lips.

“If you do have gardens, I’d love for you to show me around.” I glimmer at him and I note the twinkle in his eye.

“I will show you!” Says the deep-voiced glasses-wearing brother, moving into the spotlight as Jimin moves back into the fray.

“Little bird, this is Taehyung, our artist of the family.” Seokjin coos at his younger kin as said prince chuckles a snort in response.

“Do you like art?” The bass almost vibrates through the gloves as he asks me, breath hot on my clothed skin. “What is your favorite?”

I laugh outwardly. “I like the world of art, but not as much as yourself I presume your grace.” I smile brightly. “I enjoy sketching.”

“Then we must hold an afternoon of tea and a still-life together.” Taehyung beams a boxy grin at me as he is replaced with the final prince. The one that held me so tight to his chest and a smile upon his soft face.

“And this is our puppy, Jungkook.” Seokjin pats the youngest of the seven upon his head. Prince Jungkook bows deeply, keeping the intense eye-contact I’ve come to know from this family.

“It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” I say as he lightly kisses the top of my gloved hand.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Prince Jungkook muses as he stands and falls in line with the rest of his brothers, amber gazes glaring down upon me.

“Now,” Prince Seokjin says as he extends his hand to me, smiling warmly, “what is your name, little bird?”

“Princess Y/N,” I say looking at each of their individual faces.

“Welcome to Bangtan, princess.” Seokjin simpers a strikingly handsome smirk at me. “We are delighted to have you here with us.”

PART ONE l PART TWO AND A HALF

A/N: Thank you for waiting for this! Sorry, there's not much merit to this chapter, just setting up and introducing characters, as well as other things going on in this story.

#cerberus #part two #bts #werewolf bts #namjoon #jin #seokjin #rm #yoongi #suga #jimin #hoseok #jhope #taehyung #v #jungkook #jk #bts fanfiction #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

Text

Fallen - Chapter One

— pairing: OT7 x Reader (F) — genre: Fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Eventual Smut, ANGST , Poly!BTS — word count: 2.8k — Rating: M — warnings: minor character death, slight gore — beta: Thank you so much @taegularities and @unoriginal-username15432 for all you feedback <3

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— chapter summary:

The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

— A/N: It is I, your idiotic author. Welcome to my blog <3

Ch. 2

The sound of rain was like a roaring beast. It was almost midnight and the roads were lonely. You stood there in an alley facing a madman, uh, mad-vampire. His eyes were glowing red; he was wearing a dirty grey cloak on his rag like cloth. His brown hair had gotten messy when he’d run away from you but there he was, still as a dead body, waiting for you to attack. There were thick walls on both sides of the alley and behind him was a dead end. He was trapped.

“Lockham, why don’t you come back with me? That way I won’t have to kill you,” you suggested to the psycho killer vampire who stood a mere ten feet away from you. There was no way for him to run so maybe he would attack. You weighed your options - fight? That would’ve been nice; at least your body would’ve gotten some exercise.

He laughed. “You think you can win? Destiny is waiting for you Hunter,” he said in an impressive voice. Another one of those ‘destiny’ believers. Apparently the Goddess had a plan for us all, not that you had much faith in it. Gods don't care about who kills whom or who eats what, they’re more concerned about their own entertainment. You’d never put much faith in any higher power, God or not, nobody gave a shit.

“You’ve killed people Lockham, you’ve been a very naughty vampire and now it’s time for your punishment,”you said as a teacher would say to a naughty kid. He took a step back.

“Who are you to punish me?” he mocked, showing you his blood covered teeth. He was just having a meal when you found him and then you two had a nice chase. You were glad that he ran, you wanted to stretch out your legs anyway.

“Exactly, I’m no one,” you said and took a step forward; he took a step back simultaneously and vanished. What? Vanished? How? You walked forward to investigate and sighed. How careless of you. There was a hole, he fell into the sewer. He must have used cloaking so that it would look like he vanished. The only thing he forgot was to close the hole. You shook your head, you hated wet places! You jumped down and landed lightly on your feet, without making a sound, perfect.

You were getting bored of chasing him, it was almost dawn and you needed your beauty sleep. You took a deep breath and pulled out your silver dagger. It was your favorite weapon. Silver was deadly to vampires. It was very pretty with a finely carved snake on the handle with emeralds where the eyes should be; a gift from someone you had known a long time ago. You closed your eyes and let your mind wander through the tunnels. Just like your immunity to silver, your telepathy was stronger than centuries old vampires and you could perform magic. You were a half-witch after all.

You found him running through the tunnels. As soon as your mind touched him, he froze. You were inside his mind now. Reading someone’s mind was nothing like watching a movie or reading a book. It was like waking up from a dream, you don’t remember what you saw or heard but the thing that you remember is the feeling, the essence of the dream. Every being has a certain essence, unique to them. Like walls that you can’t see or touch, but you know they’re there. You could clearly see the tunnel before you, but it was like a distant memory, you were no longer there.

You were in a room, an old room with cobwebs and dust. It smelled of something rotten, like a thousand dead rats. There were worn out clothes hanging from the ceiling - correction, there was no ceiling, just clothes hanging midair and swaying with the wind, except there was no wind. At one corner sat two rusty iron chairs. The window with broken glass showed a full moon.

There was an old cupboard on the wall with the yellow wallpaper. It was white as if someone had carved it from bone. There were noises coming from the cupboard, screeching, screaming, the cry of a baby, the soothing voice of a mother, someone’s last words. A shudder ran through your body. I will never ever do this again, you promised yourself.

You heard a creak from behind and you swiftly turned back. There he was, sitting in a corner, the little boy. He held a tattered grey cloak in his hands. His body was folded at impossible angles. He was white as a sheet, there was no blood in his body. He was thin with brittle bones. Dull brown eyes in a sunken face held unimaginable terror.

He looked up at you. “I’m tired, I want to sleep,” he whispered and quickly stole a glance at the cupboard.

“Then why don’t you sleep?” you whispered back, clearly not wanting to wake anything in there. Yeah, getting into someone’s mind was a nice thing, you could get full control over them... but there was a catch. If something went wrong in that mind or if you failed to escape in time, then you’d be trapped there forever, or die. You were pretty sure that you didn’t want to be trapped in this mind, not here.

“They don’t let me sleep, they keep me awake so that I could bring more and more food for them,” he replied, pointing a finger at the cupboard. Slowly, you understood what he was saying. ‘One without a soul feeds on other’s souls,’ the thought crossed your mind, not a good one.

“What if you don’t bring them food?” You already knew the answer but you asked anyway, maybe just to confirm it.

“I’ll go mad,” he whispered back with horrified eyes.

“Come to me, I’ll help you sleep.” The words left your lips, the real ones which were still attached to your face. Lockham turned back and slowly walked towards you. You could hear his heavy footsteps in the tunnel. At last he took the last turn and there he stood right in front of you. His eyes were blank. It was like there was no soul in his body, no life. You had him entirely under your control. If you told him to do ballet, he would dance like a professional, but you weren't a sadist. Life had already tortured him enough.

“Come forward,” you said softly, the sooner it ended the better. He walked forward and your silver dagger slashed through his throat, severing his spine, killing him in a second. Blood splashed and soaked his body. It was a merciful death, you had seen worse. There are worse things than death in this world. Death was just an easy escape.

You stood there for a moment, looking at him, wishing that the outcome would’ve been different. Were you feeling sorry for him? No, you were feeling sorry for yourself. You were a fifty year old vampire and in all your years as a hunter you’d killed hundreds of criminals, but you had never been able to save one.

People knew and people talked. Some said that you were cursed; you were the representative of death, the spawn of darkness. As a result, the council only gave you high profile cases, criminals that were too far gone to be saved. It was always death. The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

You pulled out your cell phone and called the police. They would take care of the body. You bent down to leave a tracker near it, so they would find it easily. Lockham’s eyes were wide open, and you closed them. “At least one of us is at peace,” you whispered.

“You’re home!!” little Lilly exclaimed happily as you walked through the door. Your family was sitting in the dining room, having supper. You were the firstborn, the eldest of your father’s children. Your father was the Duke of Serafino, the City of Snake; one of the two warrior cities in the Vampire Kingdom. He was a nice man with brown eyes and hair, fair complexion, nicely built but a little short.

Your stepmother was a beauty; she had blue eyes, fair complexion, sharp features and hair spun like gold. Her children took after her, all cream and gold. They all hated you, except for the little one, Lilly.

“Yay, I’m home,” you said sarcastically. It was hard not to be nice to the little girl who looked at you with wonder in her eyes; she was so full of life. To no one’s wonder you had blood on your clothes and your darling step mother eyed it with a look in her eyes that said filthy. For you, it was like an invitation. You were planning to have supper in your room just like any other day, but you sat down at the end of the table. Your father was seated at his normal seat which belonged to the head of the family. The chair right across from him was the place for his wife, but that was your mother’s place and now it belonged to you.

Your mother had died in childbirth, you had her amber eyes and olive skin. Her name was Katina. People told you that she’d been a beauty; you had some of her pictures and sometimes you would feel her close beside you. It was a weird feeling, but not bad, not at all. You weren't a person who put her feelings on display, heck you hadn’t even cried in like twenty years! The only permanent feeling you had left was emptiness. You felt numb, like a shell, nothing inside, no love, no hope, not even sorrow after all these years. It felt like you were dead and it was true, your heart was dead.

“I would like some blood sausages Charles and don’t forget the wine,” you said cheerfully to the butler. He was a nice guy, always talked politely. You suspected that he was in love with the cook, Ms. Glen; it would be nice to have some love in this house which felt like living in a coffin.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Lilly asked, her cheerful eyes trained on you. You wondered for how long this child would be allowed to keep her innocence? When you’d been her age ...you shied away from that thought. Thoughts bring back memories and your memories were like old corpses, one would never want to dig them. Instead you took a bite of your sausage - man, they were delicious.

“It was almost nice, Bunny. I played who-can-catch-me with a friend and I won!!” Bunny was the nickname you had given her because she was never still. Everyone paused for a moment; it was really weird and funny at the same moment. You loved how all the eyes drifted to you and back to Lilly. She was beaming because you had won the game. You gave her a small smile.

“Oh that’s wonderful!! Where is your friend now?” Curious little kid, everyone paused again, including you this time.

“You see, we were playing on a bet. He lost the bet so he had to …go to another city.” You were very good at lying, but her beaming eyes and pure innocence made it hard. It was impossible to lie to that child.

“When would he come back?” she asked, and you sighed. Your plate was half empty and the looks everyone were giving you just killed the hunger inside. You stood up with the wine glass in my hand.

“Chew your food, Bunny,” you replied and left the room.

Your room was a mixture of blue and gold. The wallpapers were straight lines of different shades of blue. The furniture was of mahogany wood with fine carvings. The round rug was golden on the edge and blue in the middle, it looked like a pool of water. All the linen was blue and gold as well. Your bed was round and big with golden bedposts and curtains. You had a balcony of your own with a little fountain with a sculpture of a mother and her child. You had spent a lot of time taking care of the blue roses in your garden.

The front wall was covered with your music collection. You found peace in music, it was the only time when you could just forget everything and float. You quickly changed and crawled under the sheets, picking up the remote from the side table and pressing the play button. It was Mozart’s duo. What an amazing symphony! It helped you drift back to your happy memories.

Unlike your half brothers and sisters, you were raised in Tiria. It was a small town on the edge of Serafino. You were raised by the Countess of Tiria, a very kind woman. She had grace, beauty, and wealth but no children. She showered you with love and pretty gifts. You had excellent teachers for your education. You learned everything from crochet to fencing.

The manor there was old and beautiful. It had a beautiful garden and a whole forest around it. You would often go into the forest, just to explore it. Those were the happiest days of your life. Until your tenth birthday - the day the Countess died.

Just like the symphony, your thoughts turned darker. You’d been happy that day; the maids had told you that you were going to have a big birthday party. The Earl had been there for two weeks now. Your innocent mind had thought that he was there for your birthday. That morning you were out in the gardens, picking up some red roses for the Countess, it was something you did every day. You would just run into her room to put them on her side table, she loved that. You held the bunch of roses in your tiny hands, running through the house to her room. You were wearing a very pretty white dress with laces and pink ribbons. Your bare feet softly met the stone floor as you ran to her room and pushed the door, happily calling to her.

The Countess was there, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There were bruises on her body and a sword, stabbed right through her heart. The handle of the sword was in the hands of the Earl. He twisted the blade with a cruel smile in his eyes. Then you screamed. The flowers falling from your hands, red roses into red blood - they were the same color. Your pretty white dress was now red. You backed away still screaming, leaving little red footprints on the floor. The maids came running to you and held you tight as you screamed and screamed. You don’t remember for how long you were screaming or what happened later.

You drifted off to sleep.

It was a beautiful forest. The trees were so thick that sunlight barely touched the ground and everything was covered in moss. You were standing there in front of a giant wolf. It wasn’t a werewolf, it smelled like a regular one but just giant, like a direwolf. It was growling at you, baring his teeth. You had no weapons with you, you double checked. You looked around for an escape, you could kill him with your teeth but they weren’t as sharp as they’d used to be. You looked at your nails, they were fragile. Heck! You were human!!

“Y/N, wake up!!” the wolf suddenly spoke in a girly voice. It didn’t make sense, really.

“Are you a girl?” you asked the wolf who was ready to kill you. Talking to an animal, guess you had finally lost your sanity.

“Y/N!!” Someone was shaking you, trying to wake you up without much success. Then you realized you were sleeping under a bunch of blankets and pillows. It was three in the morning; you could tell by the smell of the air. You peeked at the person who had dared to disturbed you. It was Lily.

“What is it, Bunny?” you asked sleepily. It was good she had practice understanding you while you sleep talked, if it was anyone else, they would’ve thought you were talking gibberish.

“I had a bad dream,” she said with a puppy face. You knew what she wanted; she wanted to sleep with you.

“Me too,” you replied and ran your tongue over your teeth, yup, still vampire. “Come here you,” you said, grabbing her and stuffing her under the pile of blankets and pillows. You loved a warm cozy place to sleep. You held her like a teddy bear and dozed off again. She was so soft in your arms and she held tight onto you. Protecting someone was a good feeling. You went back to sleep as if you had never woken up.

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softykooky · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary: Four

summary: your favorite color is yellow. taehyung’s favorite color is red. your favorite flowers are peonies. you still haven’t asked taehyung what his are. 6.8k words.

genre: mafia au, angst, ot7 x reader

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, verbal/physical abuse (not from members), blood

author’s note: i love seeing all your messages so much!! even if i don’t post a reply, please know that it does not go unseen or unappreciated. it makes me smile every time :) i hope you guys enjoy!

one two three

It had become a lonely routine for you to wait until everyone in the house was asleep to roam the vast halls and pretend that it was only you. It was relieving. To not be in constant fear of your father lurking around the corner or the pretense you had to keep with Soyeon, as much as you loved your sister. It was nice to pretend for a while. Until the sun inevitably came up and you retreated back into your room.

You padded to the kitchen quickly, keeping an eye out for any spare family members or butlers that hadn’t gone to bed yet. It was moments like these that needed to be romanticized. So every night, you pretended it would be the last night you get to feel cool marble tile under your feet. The last night you could dance in the quiet of the kitchen with no one watching. The last night you could make a grilled cheese while everyone was asleep and eat it all by yourself. The last night you could just be, with no regard to space and time. No thoughts, and no pain. No mom and dad and Soyeon. That was how you found your happiness in this home.

You flipped the spatula gingerly, bursting into a rare smile at the sight of a perfectly golden brown slice of bread. Nothing calms a soul quite like grilled cheeses do. Your mind drifts to Jin’s face when he came to retrieve your plate one day, only to find that the grilled cheese he had made was devoured and the plate was licked clean. Your’s wasn’t even half as good as his was. Maybe it was the type of cheese or the butter. Or maybe the smile that came with it every time he appeared outside your door.

You snapped out of your reverie at the sound of uneven footsteps thudded from outside the kitchen. Your blood ran cold as your father, clutching a bottle of vodka to his chest, stumbled into the room and locked eyes on your figure. He smirked smugly and took another swig.

“Well if it isn’t my pet. What are you doing out of your cage so late?” His words slurred together and you almost wouldn’t have understood if it hadn’t been for the years of practice you’ve gone through in deciphering your father’s intoxicated words.

“I’m...nothing. I’m not doing anything.” It had been a feat for you to even speak up in his presence.

You’re weak, Y/N. Weak and scared.

He chuckled darkly. “Yes, that’s right. You always do nothing. You are nothing.” Something inside of you stretched thinly, so close to snapping but not quite as it fought to hold on. Your body shook with the anger and frustration you were not allowed to feel all those times before. All those times he belittled you and made you feel like you were not worth the air that you breathe.

“You know sometimes I wonder about just shipping you off somewhere and giving Soyeon the company instead.” He drawls, still nursing the bottle as if it were his baby.

“But god knows that nitwit would spend the entire fortune on new shoes.” Your hands still clutched the spatula as they shook with anger, yet you stayed silent.

“You never did tell me what you did to land in the hands of Bangtan, dearest daughter. Enlighten me. Why would they take you, worthless as you are, in?” He leaned against the table on two elbows, face coming to rest on his hands as he glared at you coldly, smiling even wider at the sight of your teary eyes and quivering stature.

“You must’ve made a good whore for them then.”

Snap.

“Do you enjoy looking in the mirror when you see the despicable monster staring back at you?” Your words almost rolled off your tongue uncontrollably. You hadn’t the heart to feel regret for them yet, just staring at your father as his eyes sharpened and he sat up straighter. He wasn’t used to your defiance.

“No wonder Mom fucking despises your presence and leaves whenever she gets the chance. You’re repulsive.” In the back of your head, something was screaming at you to stop talking. To shut up and take the brunt of it like you always do, until he fell asleep and you could retreat to your room. But you had been holding in anger for far too long to feel sorry.

Your father stood up slowly, hands still glued to the glass bottle as his smirk widened in realization of what you had just done. Rarely had you ever talked back to him, much less insult him like you did. Your heart dropped as his chuckles morphed into a full sadistic laugh that bounced off the walls of the kitchen. He looked at you with an intensity you had never seen before and spoke. Deathly calm.

“Oh, Y/N”, he stalked closer to you, still separated by the marble kitchen island but you still instinctively took a step back.

“I’m going to enjoy beating that attitude out of you.”

It was a game of moves and countermoves. Each step he took towards you, you took one back. And in the vast kitchen of your family home, it was easy to put distance between you. Easier when he was completely off his rocker after drinking an unholy amount of vodka.

“I-I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to do this.” Your voice shook as you tried to placate your father, who had rage swirling in his eyes at the sight of you. He said nothing. Only laughing in response.

“You’re drunk. Please.” God, Y/N. You and your big mouth. You knew this would happen.

With alcohol impairing his senses, it was easier for you to predict his moves and get out of the way more quickly. As he lunged at you with a shout, you dodged out of the way and ran to the other side of the kitchen, heart thundering in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to chuck the heavy vodka bottle at you, clocking you in the temple with a painful thud as you crumpled to the floor. The glass shattered in half at your feet. The familiar warmth of blood trickled down your forehead. Slow footsteps made their way towards your weak form.

Your father knelt down and gripped the collar of your sweater, pulling your head up from the floor. Your vision was blurred from the pain.

“You. I do so much for you.” He slaps you across the face, one hand still clutching your collar. You almost hadn’t noticed the hit in your dazed state.

“I give you a roof to live under. Food, clothes, money.” He emphasizes each word as he says it, correspondingly slamming your frail body to the hard floor. You couldn’t breathe as he knocked the air out of your lungs, only helplessly staring up at him through teary eyes.

“And this is how you thank me? You ungrateful brat.”

Your face contorted to an expression of fury. Damn the consequences, you wanted to fight back. And if he hits you twice as hard for it, then you would pay that price. You reached up and swiped your nails across the plane of his face, relishing in the thin strips of blood that immediately appeared afterwards. His shock gave you time to get out from underneath him.

Your father touched his cheek and pulled back to find the palm of his hand smeared in red. It seemed as if that sobered him up completely, expression turning calm and dark. You watched him in half-satisfaction and horror, anticipating his next move.

He slowly bent down and picked up the half broken vodka bottle that laid haphazardly at his feet, clutching the neck with a white-knuckled fist, face completely devoid of any human emotion. The shattered bottle was jagged at the end he was currently pointing at you, its edges spliced dangerously and glinting under the harsh light overhead. You had two hands raised in front of you, like a zookeeper attempting to pacify an overzealous animal.

It only took a slight distraction of his roaring laughter and the shock of his approaching speed towards you for you to let your guard down. You reacted just a millisecond to slow, and the sharp end of the broken battle was swiped across your abdomen, so quickly you almost hadn’t felt the searing pain that made you want to faint right there and then. Like flames licking on your skin. Your hands came up to clutch the bleeding wound that had already drenched through your clothes. Your knees buckled as you collapsed once again on the floor, leaning on the wall for support. Just keep pressure. Keep pressure and you won’t bleed out. Your breaths came out in pained gasps.

The bottle met the floor with a shattering sound that was far too delicate after what it had done to you in the hands of your father. Like a predator to its already injured prey, your father approached you to come in for the kill. To finish the hunt. His shaking hands gripped onto your neck, so small and thin in his grasp that you were scared it would just break with the slightest pressure. If this was to be the way you left this world, you would make sure he remembered every second. You spat out the blood in your mouth onto his face, grinning in delight as droplets stung his eyes and splattered over his face. He squeezed your neck tighter.

“You know, I could always make it look like an accident if I killed you here.” His eyes maniacally stared into your’s as the air was suddenly stolen from your lungs, both from his hands and his words. You clawed at the arms that held you to the wall, desperate for some relief.

“Could leak to the press that your car crashed somewhere. No one would even question it.”

Stay awake, Y/N. Fight back. You wanted to. You wanted to fight tooth and nail but all you could focus on was the blood that was seeping out of your stomach and the burn in your lungs as you worked to keep your consciousness. But his grip was so tight and so painful. His bark as stinging as his bite.

Your father’s hands left your throat abruptly and you gulped in air. Who knew oxygen could taste sweet? You keeled over on the floor, coughing out the pain in your throat and trying to ground yourself. There’s a warm hand on the small of your back, though. Impossibly warm and spanning the entire length of your midsection. It caresses you so softly you almost hadn’t noticed it was there. It pulls you closer across the cold floor into a wide chest and you wonder if you had really died and this was an angel to take you away from such a cruel world. An angel to take you to sanctuary.

The angel has such a familiar face when you turn around to meet his eyes though. He looks eerily identical to a certain boy named Taehyung, and his face is creased in worry as your words are stolen from your tongue. The pain reverberating through your body makes it hard to speak, and even harder to stay awake.

“Y/N? Don’t go to sleep, just stay for a second longer.” Taehyung didn’t know what to do. Jin was the one who had medical training, not him. He could only stare flabbergasted as your face went impossibly pale and your whole body shook. He looked down at where you still held your midsection, where your hand was completely drenched in red and blood began to pool around where you lay.

“Hyung! S-She’s bleeding out!” Tears welled in his eyes in sheer panic and desperation, enveloping his own hand over yours to apply more pressure, sorry’s tumbling from his lips when you winced at the pain.

Namjoon looked over to the two of you as the rest of the boys dealt with restraining your father. With more force than necessary. Jungkook made sure bruises would be left behind, his anger communicated in the way he held your father down.

“Taehyung”, you whispered so lightly as your body objected to the pain of talking. His eyes snapped to your’s, a hand coming up to cradle your face gently. Namjoon appeared at your other side, examining your wounds and frantically yelling at someone over the phone that he shakily held to his ear.

“Don’t kill him. Don’t kill my father.” Your voice cracked and you cried both in relief and worry about what was to happen next. Even after this, you didn’t want your father to die. At least not yet. Not before you got the chance to talk to him.

“We won’t,Y/N.” Taehyung smiled down at you in his arms to distract your sadness. “Once you’re all better, you can do that yourself, yeah?” You tried your best to return his smile, managing a slight curve of your lips as a shaky breath left your lungs. Taehyung’s eyes widened as your’s began to droop and your breathing had become shallow.

“Y/N, please stay awake. What’s….What’s your favorite color?” He stammered, slightly nudging you so you wouldn’t drift off. You wanted to laugh at the question, but couldn’t bear to.

“Yellow.”

“Good, good. Mine is red. What’s your favorite flower?” Taehyung would look back on this later and want to slap himself for asking you such mundane questions while you were oozing blood on your kitchen floor. But it was all he could think of to make sure you stayed awake for as long as you could.

You groaned in pain, deepening the furrow in Taehyung’s brow. “Peonies”, you whispered lightly, your voice slowly fading away. You couldn’t find the energy to talk anymore. Or breathe without feeling sharp pain.

For once, you felt safe to leave behind your consciousness and fall into the sleep you tried to fight. Safe and warm. Was it his arms that had made you feel that way? Or knowing that they were all there and that your father couldn’t hurt you anymore at that moment. You closed your eyes, the last thought on your mind being regret. You hadn’t stayed long enough to find out what his favorite flower was as well.

With the pained sounds of your father in the background as the others threw hit after hit, the two boys at your side could only stare at each other with your limp body in between them, praying to whatever power was up there that they could get you back to the manor quickly enough. That their mistake wouldn’t have cost you your life.

“Where’s Y/N-ie? Where is she? There she is!” You erupted into contagious giggles as your father pried the peekaboo hands off your chubby face.

“I almost lost you! Where did you go?” An airplane in the form of a spoon piled high with mashed peas made its way to your mouth, your father making whooshing sounds as he expertly slotted it between your lips. You never liked peas, even as a toddler, face twisting sourly and spitting up the majority of the food you just had been fed.

He smiled at you fondly, caressing your palm-sized head in his hand. You smeared the spit up food over your bib and table, somehow managing to get it in your hair as well. A warm chuckle bubbled from his chest.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You woke up on a cold bed with a sharp inhale, wanting to scream but somehow not able to make a sound. There were so many people. So many voices talking at once that it sounded like no one was talking at all. You tried your best to enhance your wavering focus.

“Jungkook, grab the bandages.”

“She’s opening her eyes. Grab me another morphine syringe.”

“Y/N? You need to calm down. Everything is going to be alright.”

You couldn’t make out the other voices but the last one was familiar. It belonged to Jungkook, and you blindly reached a hand out for anyone that would be willing to hold it. He gripped back with a fervent intensity, squeezing your fingers as if to let you know:

I’m right here. You’re safe with me.

You groaned at the searing pain in your stomach, and the thundering ache that throbbed in your head. It was as if you could feel every cut on your skin, every drop of blood that spilled, and every nerve cell that screamed in agitation. God, you hoped that the morphine someone was talking about would kick in soon. You opened your eyes wider at Jungkook’s face that had appeared above you, like an angel shrouded in white light, and exhaled at the sight. He looked so beautiful, you couldn’t imagine how beat up you looked right then. You were always damaged goods. Bruised and imperfect. You let yourself fade away once again.

“I don’t have time for you right now, Y/N. I’m busy.” Your younger self deflated at your father’s rejection, hanging your head in disappointment and trodding to the door of his office. You never objected or cried anymore in front of him. He always said how he hated it, and you wanted to do your best to not upset your father.

“Actually, Y/N?” You turned around as the smile grew on your cheeks, ready to excitedly tell him about your day and the test that you aced.

“Make sure you rehearse your piano piece for tonight, it’s going to be televised. And tell the maid to set out your dress early. We don’t want to be late.”

Your father had spared you a tight-lipped smile and eye contact before he resumed his incessant typing on his computer, stressed-out expression permanently etched on his face. The hope that had sprouted in your chest withered away as soon as it came, and you could only nod back to him, not trusting your voice to respond without cracking. You couldn’t pinpoint when he had gotten so cold, but his old self would come back soon, you were sure of it. He would love you again like he did before and you all could be one big happy family.

You realized later that night, that perhaps the version of your father you were desperately hanging on had ceased to exist. You practiced your solo like he had said, perfecting each glissando and enunciating each arpeggio until your fingers ached. But there had been so many people and so many cameras. It was your father’s critical stare from across the concert hall that had caused your misstep, and the discordant notes as your hands tripped over themselves.

You were punished for it by the wrath of a folded up belt in the palm of his hand. He made you change from your concert gown into a thinner camisole, so that your skin could feel each thwack of leather. So that you could feel how angry he was at you through each strike. You wanted to tell him that you were sorry. That you loved him. You wanted to ask him why he was doing this when you already knew you messed up. But you wouldn’t cry and you wouldn’t object or scream. He always said how much he hated it.

“Hyung, she’s awake.”

Your eyes shot open, shaking in panic as you tried to adjust to the harsh fluorescent overhead and looked around the room. It hurt to breathe and to move. In fact, you couldn’t even do the latter.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Jin looked into your scared eyes and slipped his hand into yours, squeezing as tightly as he could to ground you from your oncoming panic attack. Your heartbeats slowed down as he continued to hush you and held onto your hand as if it was a lifeline. Or maybe that was you that was holding on so tightly, you couldn’t tell.

You were in a white room. Not the same one that they had thrown you in when you arrived the first time. Not as cold and bleak….and that of course had nothing to do with the boy that was besides you gripping your hand as if he was afraid you would disappear otherwise. There was a strong scent of antiseptic permeating through the air, so heavy you wanted to choke on it. You always hated it. It brought up too many memories you wished to forget. Your eyes darted across the space.

Hoseok had been sitting on the chair in the far corner, running a hand through his messy hair and looking like he hadn’t slept in a couple days. You were surprised he was even here to begin with. Last time you talked, he called you many not so nice things before they shipped you back to your father. Jin sighed sadly and your gaze met his again, clearly distressed and welling with unshed tears.

“Your windpipe was almost crushed. That’s probably why you have some trouble trying to talk, too.” The scene flashed through your eyes again. You were on the floor and he had been choking the life out of you. Before they came to save you. You passed out and now you were here.

“I expect you to make a full recovery, Y/N”, Jin smiled gently. He flipped through a patient clipboard, scribbling down notes you couldn’t see from where you were laying. You pushed through the pain to speak.

“Where’s my father?” You recoiled in shock at the sound of your own voice, reminiscent of someone who had been smoking since they came out of the womb. Hoseok eagerly stood up from his seat and handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took and drained the entire thing. The boys seemed downtrodden after your question, glancing at each other and looking far too uncomfortable.

“I’ll let Namjoon explain later, love. You should rest now.” You tried to look away to hide your blush at the pet name he had unconsciously used. It was odd. They had been so cold when you came here the first time, and now he was calling you love and looking after you.

Don’t get your hopes up Y/N, it’s just guilt.

Jin left the room after checking on the white bandages wrapped around your stomach, which you had completely forgotten was even injured among the chaos. You could already see the ugly scar that the bottle was going to leave behind, internally groaning at a new mark you could use to remember your father by. You shut your eyes to attempt to get some more sleep, but felt a presence in the room. You hadn’t noticed that Hoseok never left, and was still sitting there on a chair that did not look comfortable. He caught your gaze and blushed.

“I’m uh….I’m staying here. Just to make sure you need anything.” If it weren’t for your messed up throat, you would have giggled at his stammering cuteness. The way he nervously played with his fingers and avoided eye contact with you. It was hard to believe this was the same man that wanted to kick you out of the house the second they brought you back.

It felt safe, though. To have him there, watching over you so that nothing bad would happen. Hoseok didn’t make any noise or attempt to start any conversation, even if you couldn’t say anything back to him. He just sat there with you, albeit too far away for your liking, watching over you like a guardian angel. It didn’t feel awkward. Just warm. But surely all of this was only temporary, because warm and comforting things never lasted for a person like you. Perhaps they had done nothing to your father. Perhaps he would come after you and Bangtan would be forced to let you go.

However, as you sat in the peaceful silence of each other’s presence, admiring Hoseok in the sunlight coming through the window, you would feel alright if this was only temporary.

It had felt like you were their prisoner again. Except the door wasn’t locked, it’s always wide open. Jin would periodically come and go to give you food and water and fresh clothes, and you were just there. Sitting passively and staring into space most of the time. The other boys hadn’t made any active attempt to talk to you, and you wondered if it was because of the overwhelming guilt or if it was just because they didn’t care. Even though there was a familiar poetry book on your meal tray yesterday, you couldn’t bring yourself to open and read. You wouldn’t allow yourself to indulge in such things, because the boys were not your friends. They would kick you out once you’ve healed. You wouldn’t let yourself get attached again.

Jin tried to hide his wince as he unraveled the bandages around your middle, eyeing the nasty wound and mutilated skin with guilt swimming in his eyes. Times like these, you just stayed quiet and looked away at the window, refusing to see the marks that your father has left on you. You didn’t notice the tears that made their way down your cheeks until you felt Jin’s soft hands wiping them away.

It was easy. Too easy to fall into his chest and sob a part of the pain out. As for the rest of it, you reckon it’ll stay with you for the rest of your life. It felt good, though. To have someone hold you with no questions asked and no hollow statements of sympathy. Jin had wrapped you in his arms so tightly and tucked your head under his chin, like a shield from the rest of the world that has tried to hurt you so many times.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You couldn’t count how many times he had repeated it to you. Nor had you noticed the quivering in each word as he whispered them in your ear. But you could feel their sincerity, through each breath and pause and the way his hands pressed you against the wide expanse of his chest. You couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him that it was okay, or that everything was forgiven, because that wouldn’t be true. Nothing was okay and the sky seemed to be falling. You didn’t know what your father would do now or what had happened after you passed out at the house. You didn’t know if Soyeon knew where you were or if she even noticed. You didn’t know where you would go after the dust settles down. But right then, at that moment, Jin had held you. And even if everything you were facing felt uncertain...

He hadn’t.

“Aren’t you gonna go in, Y/N?” Jungkook and Yoongi stood next to you, switching glances between your figure and the door of your assigned bedroom/ex-holding cell. You could only stare at the wood, tracing your eyes over and and the padlock that remained drilled on to the oak pane. Jungkook exhaled in realization, turning you gently by the shoulders to face him.

“You’re not our hostage anymore. I promise.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, nodding and turning back to the entrance. You weren’t their prisoner anymore. There was no need to worry. You took a deep breath in and turned the doorknob, swinging the door open and revealing the room exactly as you had remembered it. The bed was neatly made. There was a stack of clothes neatly piled on top of the mattress. And on the nightstand, a tall glass vase filled with pink and white peonies. Your favorite.

Yoongi noticed your gaze stuck on the flowers, and gingerly walked to your side. “Taehyung uhh...said they were your favorite. We thought you would like them.”

You remained quiet, only staring at the bouquet and running your fingers through a soft petal, so delicate you were scared it would fall into pieces at the slightest touch.

“I mean they’re stupid anyway. It was a stupid idea, I should have-”

“I love them. Thank you so much.” You cut off Yoongi’s rambling, looking back at both of the boys with a warm smile on your cheeks, skin gaining color again after the incident. You turned around to admire the flowers some more.

Jungkook fixed his gaze on Yoongi, noting the pink tint on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He would have teased him for it had it not been for the same blush that was painted on his own. The boys looked at each other as you held a peony up to your nose, oblivious of the turmoil you had caused behind you with just a smile and a few words. If words could be communicated through a look shared between two smitten people, Jungkook and Yoongi’s conversation would have sounded something like:

Oh fuck. We’re in trouble.

“We’re needed in the meeting room, Y/N. Are you ready?” Jungkook coughed awkwardly as the comfortable silence was broken between the three of you. You looked at him confusedly.

“Namjoon wants to update you. On everything.” Your eyes widened in realization. You set the single bloomed peony down on the nightstand, glancing back to the two boys who could sense your tension from across the room.

“What do you mean you left him there?” You practically yelled, your throat objecting to every strain and voice coming out raspy even after the days of recovery, which felt like years with the way all seven of the boys avoided answering any of your questions as if it was the plague. A plague called: Seokjin would have skinned them alive if they caused you more distress when you hadn’t mostly healed yet.

Namjoon sighed, disappointment at himself reflected in his gaze towards you from across the wide briefing table. Since you had been cleared to get out of bed, Bangtan had thought it proper to give you a seat at their meeting room, with your very own spinning chair.

“We couldn’t do anything after we beat him up. We put a tail on him, though, to track his every move. As much as we wanted to bring him back, your father is a powerful man, Y/N. We are too, but he’s a high government official.” You slumped in defeat, not as confident as you were before. You thought he was in custody somewhere, not still free to do whatever he wanted. He was still in a position to get you back, which would mean imminent death. Yoongi seemed to read your expression perfectly.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We won’t let him have you again.” Again. That had been an awkward sore spot with you and the boys. You all had unspokenly decided to completely ignore it. How easily they had betrayed you and handed you over the first time, writing you off as an ignorant brat. Even after all your assurances that you were not angry at them, they were still convinced they needed to do more to redeem themselves. You smiled at Yoongi warmly, and he tried to quell the thudding heartbeat that annoyingly pounds at the mere sight of you.

“So what do we do now?” The boys made eye contact with each other at your question, seemingly as clueless as you were.

“I strategize that we just wait. Our headquarters are stationed here, this is where we are safest and strongest. Let’s wait for his move and prepare ourselves as best we can.” Hoseok speaks up from two seats away from you.

“But it’s your call Y/N. Whatever you think is best.” You nodded, staying quiet and looking at the mahogany table in front of you, analyzing your own reflection in the shiny and polished wood.

“I think”, you started, catching the attention of the crew as they awaited your executive decision. “We all need a very good night’s sleep. Don’t you?” You stood up from your chair slowly, body still sore and rickety. You reached out for Jimin to help you waddle to your room, which he gladly obliged.

“Come on, boys, I can practically see you dozing off in your chairs.”

Maybe it was the way you laughed when you said it, looking back at them with expectant eyes and a kind smile on your lips. The way they had someone to care for them in such a mundane way as wanting to make sure they got enough sleep. The sound of your voice fluttering around the cold house that felt cozier with just the power of your presence. The feeling of having someone to protect. As they stared at you, damaged and hurt as you were, something collectively bloomed in their chests. With just a glance towards one another, the seven of them knew. They would keep you safe. For as long as you would let them.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, Y/N?” Jimin fussed over you smotheringly, tucking and retucking the thick blanket around your frail figure as if one loose thread in the fabric would put you at risk. You rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Jimin. You’re going to give yourself a hernia if you keep this up. I’m fine. See?”

Yes, he had seen. You were still bandaged across your waist, the wounds from the glass bottle taking exceptionally long to heal, even after the stitches. You hadn’t needed stitches on your temple, just an obnoxious bandage. The neck cast had come off, but Jimin could still see the rings of purple and black bruises that lined your skin, stoking the fire of his anger each time he caught sight of it and remembered the scene of your father’s hands squeezing the life out of you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jimin. It’s just a little injury. I’ll be back to shape in no time.” You grinned cheekily, shooing his hands away from trying to fluff up your pillow that in no way needed any more fluffing.

He was confused at that. How you pretended to be fine even after everything. They could all see the pain in your eyes and hear it in your words each time you talked about your family.

“Okay, fine. Just yell if you need anything.” You nodded.

“Wait don’t yell, your vocal chords are still healing, just knock on the wall very obnoxiously.” You nodded again.

“Wait don’t knock you could hurt yourself, just-”

“Jimin.”

“Yeah, okay, goodnight Y/N.” He let himself out the door, glancing back at you one last time with something fond in his eyes. He left the door ajar by a centimeter, so that a little light could flood in through the crack. You had expected the familiar clicking sound of a lock to keep you from escaping. But there was none. No lock and no keys assigned to each boy to open your bedroom. You drifted off to sleep with the help of Jin’s prescribed pain medicine. You thought of Soyeon. Your mother. Your father. And the face of seven boys who you had grown unreasonably close to in the short amount of time.

Namjoon had been treading sleepily to his bedroom when he had heard you. At first, he shrugged it off, thinking it was just the house settling or a distant breeze. But as he approached closer to your door, he could hear it more clearly. Your distressed whimpers and slurred mumbles. Namjoon quietly opened the door and peeked inside.

You were tossing and turning on the bed, hands fisting the sheets so tightly your knuckles turned white. Your expression was pained, eyebrows scrunching in discomfort as you dreamed. Namjoon’s heart twisted in his chest. He hadn’t even thought of the fact that you would get bad nightmares, and how they must be even heightened after this. You had seemed strangely fine after they brought you back to their home, never showing more weakness than you had to. You hadn’t even mentioned the injuries. Now you were probably reliving everything while you were supposed to be peacefully sleeping.

Namjoon leaned down over you, careful not to invade your space. “Y/N, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” You hadn’t budged, still drifting off in your unpleasant dream.

“Y/N?” You had stilled, expression still creased in a frown but no longer rustling. He hadn’t noticed that your hand was gripping tightly onto his until he moved to walk away. For a moment, he thought you had woken up, but the even rise and fall of your chest and light snores that escaped your lips indicated you were still deep in sleep. He sighed, opting to sit down on the rug besides your bed, still keeping your hand encased in his own.

It was comforting. To feel the warmth of your skin. To run his thumb over your pulsepoint and feel the rhythmic beating. To hear each breath as it made its way through your chest. Namjoon felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the second. He hadn’t even noticed himself falling asleep, only focused on the weight of your hand in his.

You woke up feeling still as tired as you were when you went to bed. Your skin was sticky with sweat, uncomfortably rubbing against you and making you far too hot. You flicked the thick blanket Jimin had insisted on trapping you under and relished in the cold air that rushed in to lick at your skin. A snoring sound reverberated impossibly loud in the once quiet room. You froze with fear, snapping your head so quickly to the source of the sound you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash.

It was Namjoon. Curled up in the fetal position on your rug with a decorative couch pillow under his head, snoring away without a care in the world. The sight made you coo, heart melting at the sight of a grown man sleeping so innocently. He was always so focused on his work. So caught up in the stress of running his gang. You wondered how often he actually got good sleep. It was as if he could feel your stare, and opened his eyes to meet your’s.

“What are you doing down there, Namjoon?”

Wow, he could get used to the sight of you after he woke up every morning, bedhead and all. Even if his view was from an uncomfortable floor. Namjoon coughed in embarrassment, promptly standing up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“You, uh...You had a nightmare last night. I came to check on you and then you wouldn’t let go of my hand.” You blushed meekly at his words, a smile growing on your lips as you looked at him fondly.

“So, you stayed with me?” You gazed up at Namjoon in wonder, heart threatening to burst at his unexpected act of care towards you. He nodded shyly, scratching the back of his neck as he always does when he’s nervous and awkward. You could feel your eyes tearing up again, wanting to laugh at yourself for being so pathetic and crying over the smallest things. But he had been so ready to stay by your side, even when you were asleep and out of it. You couldn’t remember a time when someone cared enough to do that for you.

You stood up out of bed and stood in front of Namjoon. His mouth slightly dropped in shock as he felt your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, his arms still hanging by his side.

“Thank you.”

He felt your breath fan over his ear, so soft and delicate. You sniffled, trying to hide your tears from him. Namjoon held you closer to him, pressing you against his chest with the least amount of pressure so as to not aggravate your injury any more. You had felt so small and snug in his arms, he wanted you to stay there forever. He felt a single tear drop drip onto his clothed shoulder, seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and he held you even closer.

The door to your room opened with a smack, revealing a huffing Hoseok, and the two of you jumped away from each other, respectively blushes dusting your cheeks and putting on an inconspicuous facade. Hoseok graciously decided to ignore what he had seen. He would tease Namjoon for it later, there was something more pressing at hand.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon waited for Hoseok to catch his breath, but noted the ways his eyes flickered worriedly to you and the sounds of his men clambering downstairs. Your heart thudded in anticipation at the solemn look Hoseok had on his face, suddenly wanting to empty the contents of your stomach and faint all in one go. You had a feeling you knew what his next words were going to be about.

“It’s your father Y/N. He’s on his way here.”

Taglist: @pinkyhim, @deolly , @drunkzseok, @hope122598, @uwunamjoon, @nomimits7, @bubblebunnylia, @aquaalanah, @juliie-ocha, @daydreambrliever, @btsbabby, @blank-et-noir, @myheartstaysinkorea, @rosiethefairy, @tiredjedi, @lovemyself-persona, @jeoncookie-bts, @annoyingpessimist, @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @btstxtgenre, @taesugaar, @hxsxxk-180294, @bubbletae7, @uglyratlmao, @hopetookmysoul, @supertweetycherry, @loveyoongles

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aserethstorm · 3 years

Text

Muddy Crowns👑✔️

Levihan + 104th Royalty Au

____________________

The young princes and princesses decided to get down and dirty.

Their father isn’t exactly happy about it.

____________________

“Land for livestock has significantly decreased due to favor of more housings. In effect Meat has increased to six more coins-“

Levi shuts him off, rubbing his temple as re-reads his documents for the 5th time. The officials continue to voice their matters in the background, leaving the King to brew his thoughts in the solitude.

It frustrates him from time to time, having to deal with tiring situations such as this one. Levi shuffles his papers, He’d have to tell the butler to ready some tea once he’s done with this meeting.

The large doors to the hall slam right open, the wood slapping the wall behind them with a loud thud. The room is silenced as they all stood up from their seats, Levi doesn’t need to look up to know who the person is.

“Your highness..” they all bow as Hange walks pass them, she raises her hand and offers a small smile to the crowd. “At ease” she says and the officials return to their seats and once again discuss the topic before.

“Your late” Levi utters as Hange sits on the seat beside him. He signs one of the documents before turning to her, steel eyes demanding for an explanation.

The Queen snickers, barely concealing the action with the back of her palm. “Important matters of Science where at play Levi ! You should have seen it, I just HAD to overlook.” She shrugs and Levi notes the red tinge on her cheeks, the lacking of her glasses and the droplet of sweat that cascaded the back of her neck.

“Tch. Can’t even call you four eyes today. I thought you didn’t care if the royal officials saw you in glasses.” He interacts bringing his eyes back to the matters at hand. Swiping through a new set of works he needed to sign.

“Well...I wanted to test my hypothesis on my eyesight’s capabilities but I also wanted to see your reaction.” She grazes his hand, taking his documents from him. Levi stares at her, unamused as she rests her head on her hands. “Which do you prefer, no glasses or with glasses?” She bats her eyelashes playfully and Levi smirks.

Hange did look a bit more beautiful today. The king had too admit and Levi even noticed that it did seem like she made the extra effort to look like the usual queen of her status.

Even so...

”I prefer you with glasses.” Levi grabs her chin. Drinking in the sight of her exposed warm brown eyes. He kisses her lips and the feeling is warm. His exhaustion disappears as if it was washed away by the touch.

Levi pulls away first and looks her endearingly in the eyes. “Don’t want you falling down a flight of stairs.” Hange laughs, her face even brighter than she entered. Her body relaxes a bit later and the loud laughter fades but a smile remains permanently on her face as she gladly helps him with the rest of the meeting.

The event was adjourned with Hange resolving the land situation. Though not entirely applicable her strategy brings hope that not much of their people will suffer with the plan.

“Your majesties, you have another meeting later with the Marleyan Ambassadors.”

“Ugh, not them again” Hange groans standing up from her seat. “Their promises of compromise are always empty.” She annoyingly adds. Levi hums, offering his arm and Hange gladly takes it. They both walk out of the room with their men and woman behind them.

Hange chuckles and Levi shots her a glare “Your doing this because your afraid I’ll trip?” She muses. Levi snorts, pulling her a little closer “I’m not the idiot who went to fetch me without glasses.” He murmurs and Hange dramatically gasps.

She hits the arm she’s holding and Levi smiles. “My eyesight’s not THAT bad. You should give me more credit.” She points, lips pouting as she held her head high. Levi just rolls his eyes. Not a chance four eyes...

As the two monarchs continue their heated banter a small boy coming from the stairs they were passing, collides with Hange’s dress, ultimately ruining the white satin with the boy’s muddy state.

The brown haired child steps back, hitting his butt on the carpet with a thud. He looks up to meet the curious and familiar stares of his parents. “Mom! Dad!” Eren wails as Hange kneels for the boy to embrace her.

“Prince Eren! What are you doing here!?” Hange’s ladies-in-waiting exclaimed. They quickly rush to their queens side only to see the utter mess the young prince brought to their queen’s gown.

“Prince Eren look what you’ve done to your mother’s dress!” One of the ladies reprimanded as they began cleaning his dirty face. The young prince sniffs, the lady-in-waiting quickly wiping away the snoot. He turns apologetically to his mother, uttering a heartfelt ‘sorry’. Hange smiles not at all mad at the filth.

“Where’s your governess Eren?” Levi finally asks as he stands by his wife’s side. The boy draws circles with his foot, too embarrassed to meet his father’s eye. “She’s still busy looking for me...” Eren mutters, cheeks flushed under the cake of mud.

“EREN!” Armin calls looking from side to side as he ran. The prince halts in his tracks when he finds Eren under the watchful eyes of their parents. “There you are! Mrs. Carla is looking all over for you!” Armin grins, climbing up the stairwell.

Hange takes in the appearance of her older son as he climbed the stairs and smiles. The rest of her party completely aghast. WHY ARE THE TWO PRINCE’S SO DIRTY?!

Even Levi’s surprised, his hands itching to clean the filth himself. “You guys are still playing with the rocket?” Hange chirps, happiness and pride swelling at the thought.

Armin nods enthusiastically “Yep! The way the rocket can fly at such height with just water power alone!? It’s astonishing mother! Me and Jean have been repeating the process you taught us multiple times and uh..well...” Armin rubs the back of his head sheepishly, now reminded of the state of his robes.

“So this is what you meant by ‘late’” Levi glares watching Hange beam at him with a nervous chuckle. “Jean won’t let me do it mom!” Eren adds, filling the short silence quickly.

“He s-said I’m too much of a baby!” The young prince cries leaving his mother and her ladies-in-waiting to calm him down.

“That’s because you are!” Jean belted as everyone turns to him and not just him. The eldest son brings with him the rest of the royal children, their governesses tailing behind. They climb the stairwell as well, dragging with them their filth and dirt and...Levi’s eyes just twitches more every time he looks at it.

His children out of all people. A giant ball of dirt...and mud...and all the disgusting things that just sets Levi off. Control...control.

Jean drops Historia; who he was carrying on his shoulder off on the ground, following behind him were the twins; Connie and Sasha, their appearance anxious as they frequently glance at their father who’s eyes were already burning hell of anger.

“You might get injured! What’s happens then! Huh!?” Jean argues making the little boy glare. Mikasa out of nowhere hugs Eren, slightly calming the young boy down.

To Hange’s vision the little prince in her arms seemed be holding a lot back. Interestingly when he was supposed to combust. Eren ends up sticking his tongue instead.

“Horseface!” Eren says, hiding in his mother’s neck for what’s to come next.

Historia gasps at her brother’s word, the young princess knowing the nickname by heart; as it was used multiple times. She and rest of their siblings slowly turn their heads towards Jean, gawking as they watch the older prince turn red with anger.

“Why you little-“ Jean growls, plunging a step forward, ready to pinch the nasty brats ear.

“Enough.” Levi states and the whole crowd go’s silent. Turning in horror as their king’s expression glimmers with the promise of pain and punishment. “I want this place clean this instance!” The staff gulp at his command, wobbling quickly as they went off to work.

As the last scatter, Levi focuses back on his family. His own children sweating nervously as they watch their father slowly roll his sleeve. Heavens...Even Historia’s tiny crown is muddy.

“Bathroom. Now.” He needn’t say twice as all seven quickly dash for the nearest bathroom. Levi dangerously looming from behind.

Hange sighs as she heads for their rooms, climbing the stairs opposite to their direction. She hopes that to ease the angered king’s wraith she might as well help him get the kids towels and robes prepared.

Here we go again...

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3pirouette · 2 years

Text

A Red, White, and Blue Christmas (9/?)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35932912/chapters/92671645By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They’re not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: White Christmas AU. Peggy is pulled from Project Rebirth, setting off a chain of events that leaves Steve and Bucky unharmed at the end of the War, but never having met. Until, that is, their paths cross as professional performers. Steggy Secret Santa gift for @roboticonography

Chapter 8: Slightly Better than Barracks

Chapter Summary: The plot advances thanks to a nosy butler.

Chapter A/N: I’m going to stop assuming anything about this story. I just am. We’re somewhere around 26K prior to this chapter. And there’s still almost an hour to go in the movie.

~*~

Bucky sidled up to Angie in the breakfast buffet line, gently elbowing her. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she looked up, plopping a spoonful of oatmeal into her dish. She put the serving spoon aside and moved down the line, the hour still early enough that there were only a few sparse people with them in the small room off the lobby.

“Did you, uh…” Bucky skipped the oatmeal and reached past her for a hot biscuit. “Did you notice anything odd about Peggy last night?”

“She came in again after I fell asleep and she was gone before I woke up.” Angie picked a piece of bacon between her fingers and took a bite as Bucky heaped a pile onto his own plate. “Not so unusual for English, though. Why?”

He didn’t look at her as he piled his plate high. “Because Steve left in an ‘I need to think about things because I’m having an existential crisis’ mood and came back in an ‘I have no idea what just happened’ mood.”

“I caught the two of them making out on the piano in the lodge last night,” Phillips groused, reaching past both of them for a muffin as if he’d just appeared out of thin air. “You tell Rogers to keep it in his pants, you hear?” He pointed a finger in Bucky’s face. “This is a family place.”

Phillips left just as fast as he’d come, face as unemotional as his voice had been. Bucky stared at his retreating form, slack jawed.

“Well,” Angie laughed, bumping into him with her hip and pushing him along towards a table, “sounds like your plan is working.”

~*~

“What do you think, sir?” Steve held out the playbill for Phillips to look over later that morning, sitting on the bench outside of the lodge, the vague sound of music from the rehearsal drifting out to them. “They get the Inn’s logo right?”

“I think you better stop making out with Carter on my piano if you know what’s good for you.” he started, shaking his head. Steve’s jaw dropped, stuttering as he tried to find the words. He didn’t think anyone had seen them. “We ran into each other and were getting some extra practice in.” He cleared his throat, saying the words even though he knew they wouldn’t help. “We thought we were being quiet.”

Phillips looked down his nose at Steve, lips pressed together tight. “If you thought that was quiet you’ve forgotten a hell of a lot about what I taught you in the army.” Phillips shook his head as he pulled the long, square advertisement from Steve’s hands and looked it over. “The two of you would make the most impulsive, pig-headed couple I’d ever met,” he grumbled, “but it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.” His eyes widened as he read over the pamphlet. “You’re kidding me, Rogers.” Phillips put the paper down and looked back at him from the other side of the bench, the cool air still not chilly enough for this time of year. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Steve was still on his heels, and not sure if Phillips was going to congratulate him or toss him out of the inn. “No, sir.”

“You think that’s going to draw people?” Phillips lifted the paper and read it again, tone lighter and almost bordering on amused.

“It was always our biggest selling shows, to be honest.” Steve shrugged and smiled. “Like Bucky said: butts in seats.”

“God, people disappoint me.” Phillips shook his head, handing the paper back to Steve. “It’s all you. You want to embarrass yourself, you go right ahead.”

Steve took the playbill back and nearly smiled. Phillips may not have been fully supportive of the plan, but he wasn’t saying no, either. He was grousing, but it wasn’t a no.

Steve knew exactly what a “No” from Phillips sounded like: he’d heard it often enough back during the war.

“Rogers,” Phillips started, eyes drifting over the empty porch of the Inn as his tone softened even further, “I don’t know shit about showbusiness, but if you and Barnes are doing all this out of some misguided need to fill this place up for me, you should start packing up now. My Innkeeping days are numbered.”

Steve couldn��t quite tease out if Phillips was happy or sad about the prospect. “What do you mean, sir?”

“You keep this to yourself, you got that, Rogers?” Phillips turned, his eyes boring into Steve’s. Steve just nodded, struck still by the seriousness in his eyes. “I’m headed back into the Army. I reapplied for Active Duty.”

“That’s… wonderful news, sir,” Steve stuttered out. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was or not, or if this was a ploy, or how it would ripple out to affect the Jarvis’ and Stark and eventually their little show here, but he tried to at least feign support.

Phillips leaned back on the bench, throwing his arm over the rail as he looked around. “Retirement’s no good for me. I’m going crazy here. It’s too quiet, too serene.”

He looked out around the peaceful grounds, and Steve could see how it wasn’t exactly ideal. “Not what you expected.” Steve tried to agree with him.

“More or less is,” Phillips surprised him, a small smile hinted at his cheek, “what with the bills and the books and something always to be signed. Isn’t that far from what I was doing before, the barracks are just upgraded.” He shook his head, his lips down turning. “In the Army it was my job to take care of you, make sure you got back home alive. I wanted to take care of guests, this time, make sure they had a good vacation. I’m no business man, though. Without the snow in the winter I don’t know how to get folks up here. Army just always sent you boys to me.”

Steve could see a hint of nostalgia in the Colonel’s eyes, but before he could speak the man continued.

“They’re probably going to try to stick me behind a desk,” Phillips muttered, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking around, “but I’ll hold out for a training command, maybe something overseas.” His voice was confident and assured, though Steve had never heard the man speak in any less of a tone.

Steve’s hands fumbled with the playbill, his heart sinking. He’d had more fun and excitement putting together this show, a show that had meaning, than he’d had in years. The thought of it being meaningless, of it not helping Phillips or the inn, almost hurt. “When will you hear?”

“Any day now, I suspect.” Phillips sat up straight, his face as stoic as always.

Steve stared at him for a moment, then dug through his jacket pocket. “I picked up the mail when I was getting the playbills, I think…” He thumbed through the letters, then pulled out one addressed to Phillips, the Washington D.C. postal code prominent on the crisp envelope. “Yeah, here.”

Steve watched as Phillips took the envelope and tore it open. His expression had always been hard to read, but Steve had had practice for years in the war. Steve could have sworn that he watched every ounce of hope die in Chester Phillips’ eyes as he read the letter. Steve opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Phillips beat him to it.

“Seems I’ll be holding out for that command position a little while longer.” Phillips made work of setting the letter in his pocket, straightening it then straightening his sweater, eyes anywhere but Steve.

“Sir?” Steve asked quietly, hands falling still in his lap.

Phillips looked up at him, his face open and unnaturally candid. “Seems they can’t find a place for this old battle worn Colonel.” He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Guess I better learn horseshoes,” he stared out past the lodge where a few of the cast were playing the game. “I’ll damn well need something to pass the time,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t turn back, but his voice grew stronger, even as he walked away. “Not a word, Rogers.”

Steve, not knowing what else to do, simply replied, “Yes, Sir.”

~*~

Steve, however, did not listen, and instead told Bucky the whole story, and the plan that had started forming, as soon as he could find him.

“How are you going to do that?” Bucky whispered loudly, trying to avoid being overheard by the cast rehearsing a few feet away, but still trying to be loud enough that Steve heard him over the piano. “No way we can get the whole 107th up here by Christmas Eve.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head, though his eyes were on the dancers in front of them. “I don’t know. But even if we can just get a few of ‘em… I just know we have to do something. You should have seen his face.”

“I’ve seen his face,” Bucky replied crisply. “I’m scared of his face.”

Steve turned, eyeing him before turning back to the dancers. “Well, you didn’t see his face just then.” He took a deep breath. “All the things we saw with him- the devastation, the death, the…” Steve shook his head, at a loss for words. He turned, pulling Bucky away from anyone that could overhear to the back of the rehearsal hall. “Jarvis already told us he has everything sunk into this place, and the Army was his only way out. That’s gone now. In all the years we were out there with him, I’d never seen anything but determination and steel in that man, but today? He was broken, Buck.”

Bucky sighed, rubbing his chin. “Ok, fine. It’s not like I don’t want to help him, we’re doing all this already. But how are we gonna get in touch with all of them- we only have five days!”

“Television.” Steve started, rambling forward. “I’m gonna call Dugan.”

“Shit,” Bucky mumbled, eyes glazing over in thought. “Dum Dum’s got that show now.”

“That popular show,” Steve affirmed, nodding. “I’ll give him a call, head down to New York, and get him to let me put out a call to the guys on air. What do you think?”

Bucky smiled, slapping Steve on the back. “I think it’s brilliant and I wish I’d thought of it first.” He turned, waving over at Angie was had been frantically trying to get his attention for the last minute or so. “I’ve gotta go, but you get on that.”

Steve held his friend back. “You know, the two of you look really good together.”

“Yeah, she’s a much better partner than Doreen.” Bucky sighed happily. “Angie doesn’t step on my toes at all.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky’s reply. “And she’s cute.”

“Well, yeah she’s—” Bucky stopped mid-sentence and turned to Steve. “What’s the idea?”

Steve smiled, shrugging. “No, I’m just saying…”

Bucky shook his head as he chided his friend. “Oh, yeah. Spend a little time with Carter in the lodge and all of a sudden you’re a match maker.”

His eyes widened. “How do—”

“Phillips told me to tell you to keep it in your pants, bud. This is a family place.” He patted his friend on the back. “Or at least get a little more creative with your hiding spots, ok?” He laughed when Steve’s cheeks reddened. “You go make the call, Stevie, I gotta go toss a cute dame around on stage.”

~*~

Steve’s cheeks were still red when he made it to the lobby, finding Mister Jarvis at the desk. “How are you today?” Jarvis’ tone was as clear and professional as ever.

Steve turned slightly redder, but cleared his throat. Whether Jarvis knew or not, it sure felt like everyone knew at least some of what happened between him and Peggy last night. He smiled up at Jarvis. “I need a line to New York, to Tim Dugan.”

“As in the television personality?” Jarvis asked, slightly agape.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “He’s an old buddy.”

“Of course,” Jarvis replied, heading back to set up the line.

It wasn’t long before Steve was on the line with his boisterous friend, explaining the plan, Mister Jarvis having headed to the back room to continue what he’d been doing.

“Well, that sounds like a damn good time,” Dugan replied after Steve had laid it all out for him. “You know I’m in. But why don’t we go all out?”

“What do you mean?” Steve leaned on the counter, his friend’s voice tinny through the line.

Steve could hear the smile through the phone line. “I’ll bring the cameras up to you. The works.”

Steve thought for a second, then declined. “It’s a nice offer, Dugan, but that’s not the idea.”

~*~

Mister Jarvis carefully pulled the handset off the cradle in the office. One thing he’d learned when working for Mister Stark had been it was for more important to know what was going on and be a little on the disingenuous side than to be in the dark so he could be ready for anything. He clicked the button and the line sizzled to life, one familiar and one unfamiliar voice bouncing back and forth.

“We could put the whole show on the network, play it up big. A real Christmas Eve show, you playing Santa Clause to the Colonel, getting the suit out, schmaltz, heart, all of that.”

“Dugan…”

“It would be worth over a hundred thousand dollars of free advertising for you and Barnes, and we can even put Phillips on himself. The forgotten man from the war angle- tear their hearts out.”

He quickly set the handset down at the sound of someone’s feet behind him, humming filling the air. “Hello, my love,” Ana moved past him, carrying a basket of costumes that still needed to be altered. He lifted the handset back to his ear knowing Ana felt the same way about eavesdropping as he did, but quickly disconnected the line as she set to sewing, afraid the sound of the machine would give him away.

~*~

“Dugan,” Steve started, chastising, “We’re not commercializing on this. Not Phillips.”

There was a long pause, then a sigh over the line. Dugan’s voice was warm and sincere. “You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Steve almost smiled. “I think having a hit show has gone to your head.”

“I think you’re right,” Dugan replied quickly. “It’s amazing how fast you start thinking in ratings. Just a few years ago I would have given my left arm to just be sleeping some place warm, you know?” Steve could almost feel him shaking his head. “Trust you to get my head on straight, Cap.”

“So, what do you say, then? A few minutes on your show?”

“For you? For Phillips? You could have the whole hour if you wanted.”

~*~

Jarvis could almost feel his hands shaking. He turned watching Steve walk away from the lobby phone and through the hallway, Ana’s humming and the whir of the sewing machine filling the air. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, and moved to step away.

He didn’t know how he could have been such a poor judge of character.

He seemed so nice, so genuine.

He’d believed Ana when she said she’d overheard them planning to help Mister Phillips.

It looked now like they only wanted to help themselves.

#Steggy Fic #Steggy Secret Santa #I KNOW #I don't know when it'll be done #I'm working on it #RL sucks #3p's Fic

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Two

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

You're apprehensive the first few days. Peering over your shoulder when you walk through the halls of the Duke's estate. You often find yourself fiddling with the only real possession you have remaining from the entire ordeal - a silver locket given to you by your mother, it hasn't stood the test of time, it's littered in small scratches and it's clearly seen better days. Neither does it shine the way it used to but you need it to feel at ease.

Currently, sitting in the estate's library you attempt to focus on reading the book in front of you. It details the life of an orphaned child, the rest of the plot is a blur to you as this task is not done with the intent of enjoying the literature but with the purpose of distracting yourself.

You've been avoiding Duke Ackerman for days on end now. He's made the occasional visit to your quarters, always politely asks if he's permitted to speak to you - allowed to take even a second of your precious time. You decline every single request, your excuses range from "I'm feeling particularly ill today." to"I would like to rest early.", He never inquires after you've responded. You do however find he communicates in a variety of different ways ; Meals of the finest standard, A luxurious place to live, the maids also offer you the opportunity to venture out into the beautiful gardens but you know he's asked them to do so.

Quite frankly, you're still petrified and are unable to fathom what happened that fateful day, you had never been one to put much faith in God especially after all he had put you through, but maybe there was a God or a higher being or a somebody who helped you in your moment of despair.

Eyes darting from your page to the door of the library, you swear you see the door knob twist and you hastily double take. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so you allow yourself to shake it off. Your eyes droop shut as you knead your shoulders attempting to relieve some of the tension you feel. Recently, you find it to be an ordinary occurrence for your muscles to seize at the worst possible opportunities.

"May I speak to you?" A beaming voice enters the room from behind you but never had such a cheerful voice made you freeze in fright. It's him.

At his appearance you begin to think of all sorts of scenarios and outcomes but the specific thought you've been actively ignoring slyly slips into view. What if the spell weakens?

Fate is an ever changing entity, one minute it may be in your favour, the next... you'd rather not delve any deeper into that alternative.

Jumping to your feet you don't look in his direction trying to keep the contact you have with him minimal.

He audibly huffs and just as you're about to scurry away he speaks again. "Halt your movements."

Something about his voice beckons you to do so and you anxiously face him.

"Did I come off too bold?" The expression he makes is unlike any other you've seen from him before. His eyes twinkle and it looks as if he's holding his breathe expectantly. It's almost comical how different he looks and you can't stop your cheeks from flushing. He's quite adorable under this spell.

But then a flashback is presented to you. The anger in his eyes, the cold feeling of his sword, if he were any closer he would have been swiftly slicing your neck open. Y/N, you were seconds away from becoming a corpse you remind yourself fiercely.

"I'm not doing very well at courting you, Am I?" He frowns as he asks but he's not upset, perhaps disappointed.

Looking at the floor you hear him bombard you with even more questions, he's crowding around you now like a swarm of bees - somehow he manages the job of an entire hive on his own. No one has ever taken such an interest in you.

Your conscience tells you that you will regret this later on down the line, it tells you this will come back and bite you incredibly hard, you will regret being so ignorant and trusting yet you yield. Is it so wrong for you to consider feeling affection? When the Duke snaps out of this spell he will promptly execute you and you're aware of that fact, so what reason is there to cower away in fear?

For all your life you have never experienced the true feeling of love. You had mother's maternal love, which hadn't lasted very long at all. Never would you have any other opportunity to experience the romantic intimate kind involving a significant other. If you were to die you may as well play the role of his wife for as long as this spell wills it. Perhaps he'll receive his memories back so late he forgets or simply no longer cares. Part of you hopes he doesn't remember at all.

"Would you like to..." you pause already regretting what you're doing but before you can continue the Duke cuts you off.

"Have tea together? Explore the gardens together?"

What really sticks out to you most is how he casually emphasizes the word together. He really doesn't care what activity you engage in as long as it's with him. You feel your heart twist in your chest. This is dangerous.

He's eager, leaning forward with wide eyes. It feels odd having someone care about your input, even more odd seeing that person smile at you with the same spirit of an elated child. It's bittersweet knowing his true character.

"Let's have some tea."

A few months have passed since then. Surprisingly you're still alive and the spell shows no signs of wearing away any time soon.

After the raid at your palace he's been nothing but sweet towards you. At first many people were against him courting you and a handful of his advisors attempted to steer his sights away due to suspicions and speculation that you were a "sinful witch" who had manipulated or even seduced him.

The day he had heard those rumors he caused an uproar and had fired the royal advisor who spread them around. "Impertinent fools have the audacity to make such comments about my Duchess." You would usually add in you were not worth such respect considering you were not officially a Duchess but the fiery blaze in his eyes had stopped you.

"Hey Lev, lets go have some tea they've learnt their lesson." You shot the gossiping maids a sympathetic look.

Being under the spell does not make him more tolerable towards other people is what you learnt that day.

Multiple women all with visuals worlds more appealing than your own approach him, some even sent by his advisors to set you up. They test if his love is strong enough to withstand the attacks of others. Time and time again he proves everyone wrong and doesn't think for a second to give up on you.

You're glad for that because through these few months you've ascertained how much you love the Duke for who he is. Well, who he's acting as. You want to slam your head against a concrete wall repeatedly when you think about the level of affection and tenderness you hold towards the man but you can not lie and say you hate him.

The fact that before meeting him you lived a life lacking of love and affection does not help your case either. It only makes it harder.

But it's painfully obvious to you that this is all truly one sided. You aren't really in love with the Duke but you're in love with the magic holding him hostage.

You share these thoughts to yourself as you take a short sip from your tea cup. Sasha has left the room to fetch some pastries and sweets. She takes her job seriously as head maid (you never address her as such because really she's just a friend to you). It's a chilly day hence why you've covered yourself up in a shawl, it coincidentally matches the beige drapes.

Suddenly a boy who you recognize to be one of the young apprentices by the name of Eren bursts through the doors of your tea room. His hair is all over the place and he's panting as he tries to formulate a sentence.

"Duke." Puff. " Duke Ackerman" Puff. "Refuses to return to the Imperial Palace and is threatening the Emperor stating he won't return to his duties!"

You ignore it and try to keep to your own affairs because who are you to interfere in military business? It's looked down upon to involve yourself in such matters.

You send him off and in the mean time Sasha makes her way back.

A few minutes later as the both of you are munching on a particularly sweet macron the palace's butler bursts in the same way as Jaeger and tries to get a word in but Sasha manages to interject first.

"My lady, perhaps you should check in on the Duke." she suggests.

You try to speak but the Butler cuts in abruptly.

"Duchess. I'm afraid he hasn't ate a meal in five days. Please talk to him."

"Mike there is no need to call me a Duchess when I hold no such title...wait the Duke hasn't ate for five days???"

You find it unbelievable that Levi has forgotten to eat or possibly starved himself for something.

Making your way to his office you enter with a speech prepared about how eating is one of the blessings you've been given and how it should be appreciated but instead you're met face to face with a trail of rose petals that lead to the Duke.

You stare at him in confusion. He holds a bouquet of roses in his hands and they kiss his chest, He gives you a look of admiration that can only be described as the look that is reserved for your one true love. His eyes glimmer and they shine along with his glossy raven hair. You look him up and down in astonishment.

He's arranged all this for you.

"I'd do anything to have you be by my side for all of eternity. Will you honor me with the opportunity of taking your hand?"

Just looking at this entirely different version of the Duke, you feel relieved and in the moment you recklessly accept his proposal. You know it's stupid, you know it's ignorant, you know you should be denying him but you can't make yourself ignore the will of your heart.

"I hope to live a long life. One with you present." he whispers into the shell of your ear, it tingles.

After weeks of the Duke's courting you accept his marriage proposal and the both of you quietly wed two months later.

He's so kind and affectionate that you're plagued with nightmares where the spell wears off.

In your nightmares he continues what he left unfinished. Every time he's about to plunge his sword into the depths of your chest he wakes you up and caresses your face in between his large hands. He wraps his arms around you after some time. Once your breathing relaxes he asks what has made you cry and you can't do anything to explain. It only hurts more seeing his concerned expression. The way his eyes flick between your eyes and trembling lips, you want to tell him the truth, instead you state that you"had a nightmare, and don't wish to talk about it." You don't want him asking questions over it.

It's another Wednesday and you're pacing back and forth in front of his office door arguing with yourself about whether or not you should enter. Finally, you decide to make your entrance and peek inside. You hear him arguing with his advisors as normal.

"Instead of blithering like a idiot and making excuses why don't yo-" he's midway through his sentence when he sees you at the doorway.

Dropping the previous matter he rushes over towards you and scoops you up in his arms. Smiling up at you, you smile back sheepishly ignoring the stares of his staff.

"Honey, why did you leave me? Where did you go?" He whines into your neck and you try to push him away shyly but he won't budge.

Everyone around you grimaces at his usual mood swings as well as the heavy flirting that he's targeting at you.

"You haven't come to eat dinner with me for three nights. You're the workaholic who left me." You swiftly retort his point and you pout at the end of your sentence. He pouts back and you can see his cheeks are tinged a blushed pink.

"Then we must dine immediately, you should have informed me that I had made you feel so neglected, my darling!"

After making your way to the dining room you and Levi are conversing happily as per usual when you spot his highly agitated secretary Mikasa. It settles in that she's been standing there for a considerable amount of time, time flies when you and Levi speak. She's clearly waiting for him to report back to duty.

The first time you had met Mikasa she was highly suspicious of you and would keep an eye on your movements at all times (literally) , you thought she perhaps fancied the Duke but later learnt that she was related to him and that was probably why she was on edge at the appearance of a new individual. Besides all that she's sweet really, sometime she joins you and Sasha for tea and you happily converse. She isn't much of a talker, more of a listener which works out well considering how extroverted Sasha is and how you love to story tell. You've shared many fond memories with her.

That's why you place a hand on Levi's shoulder and interrupt him.

"Why don't you return to your work? It's about time I send you back now." You suggest but he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Why do you keep on trying to get rid of me? I want to stay for a little longer. After all you are my wife. You count as one of my duties. If not the most important duty of all!" He's about to break out into one of his embarrassing speeches and you want to save Mikasa from that.

"Mikasa really needs you to complete your other duties. Do it for me Lev." You try and butter him up with the mention of his nickname. As expected he perks up and stands up to leave, not before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Ah Lev, I'll be taking a short trip out today. Is that alright with you?"

You don't specify that 'out' means the Sunday Market place, he'll ask question after question.

He holds onto your chin with his thumb and leans in for a chaste kiss.

"Of course my darling. Be careful."

He giddily waves at you as he leaves and you wave back with the same enthusiasm. You giggle at the sight of Mikasa practically gagging at the two of you and glaring daggers at Levi.

The door then shuts and you're left alone.

All that accompanies you is silence and you purse your lips together trying to keep it together. Recently as soon as he turns away from you all you can think about is how this love of his is a hoax.

He doesn't really love you.

That doesn't stop all the sweet words he's ever uttered from flooding your memory.

"You're mine and I'm yours."

"My beautiful love."

"I love you I mean it." It hurts. He doesn't mean it.

But you'll keep the charade up. You'll find a way to keep him this way forever. It's selfish but you can't be blamed, It keeps you safe and happy.

Love is nice but you would prefer to live.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #snk #aot #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi smut #levi angst #duke levi #leviiattacks #levi fanfiction

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 3 - Her Father’s Daughter

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies @sunwoowuvbot

“You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.”

“Now, this just coming in-- The next director of Apple-Korea, Lee Juyeon and Hera’s Princess, Kim Jang Won... have been reportedly dating for almost three years now!”

“No!”

“Yes! And get this: this wedding? It’s been on the planning table for almost 6 months!”

Lee Juyeon peers out the window as the car slows to a halt, hazel brown orbs scanning the traffic outside. Multiple LED screens on the sides of corporate buildings were broadcasting the news. The crinkling of a plastic wrapper ruins the beauty the amount of shock amongst the community was bringing Juyeon, cuing him to turn back and face his fellow passenger. The sight of Kim Jang Won awakens his corporate-thinking brain, processing the gravity of the news she falsely put out just about... five minutes ago.

“Your father just climbed out of his own grave and you wouldn’t give him half a day to busk in the spotlight, huh?”

“Mm,” She hums, gracefully taking a bite out of the fruit-yoghurt bar. “I would’ve given him a lifetime worth of spotlight if he came back as a zombie and there would be some sign of actual death but-- nah, he’s been alive since the day we thought he all dropped dead from that heart attack of his. God knows where he’s been the last two years, hiding and letting me build HERA & ARTEMIS... only to take it away from me?” She shakes her head, smacking her lips and taking another bite. “Not a chance.”

Juyeon laughs through his exhales, unsure whether he’s more in disbelief he’s trapped in this chaos or how poised Jang Won’s uncouthness in handling this situation was. His phone buzzes, and he coyly pulls it out to check the message in the screen amongst all the other stupid headlines.

Young Jin Seol [12.52pm] : You’ve been schedule for a meeting with The Board at 4pm later, sir.

He locks the device and slides it back into the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “I assume your brother is taking this better than you?”

“Excuse you, I think I’m taking this much better than most people expected me to. Well, better than I expected myself to,” The wrapper crinkles when she finishes it. The car drives up into the entrance of her mansion, easily dozens of reporters already beginning to pillow the car.

“I have a meeting with The Board later at 4pm. Will you be present?” Juyeon raises a brow, watching Jang Won slide on her sunglasses. Her blue fingernails glimmer as she carefully folds the wrapper, using her tongue to dig the crevices of her mouth.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be, hubby?” She offers a seductive smirk, then unbuckles her seatbelt to lean across to him. Sliding the folded plastic wrapper into his breast pocket, Jang Won presses her cherry lips onto his, earning incessant flashes and shouts from outside the car.

“Mm, I can still taste the wine and the tad bit of salt you got left from lunch with your Mommy and Daddy.”

Juyeon frowns, gritting his teeth as she pulls away and exits the car on her side. The shouts and questions directed at her are muffled when she slams the car shut, her bodyguards from the mansion rushing down the steps to create a pathway for her.

The car finally drives off, and Juyeon can’t help but to sneer in disgust at the cherry shade left on his lips. The grimace on his face nearly earns a snigger from his driver.

“What? Funny?”

“On the contrary, sir,” He eyes Juyeon through the rear mirror. “I think she’s rather charming.”

Juyeon nearly chokes on his saliva, pulling out a napkin from one of the seat’s back pockets. “‘Charming’ my ass. She’s a dangerous woman and I’m just keeping myself alive.”

BREAKING: LEE JUYEON AND KIM JANG WON TO BE PRESENT AT THE BOARD’S PRESS CONFERENCE AT 4PM LATER THIS AFTERNOON

Mr Ro has the most disapproving look on his face as Jang Won pridefully pushes her way into the entrance hall, heels clacking against the marble and smiling widely at her butler. But of course, her brother shows up from the hallway, clearly dissatisfied.

“What the Hell’s wrong with you? You can’t run off like that and lying to the media!”

“Oh, please. This is nothing. Hey! Can I get my wardrobe and hairstylist down soon? I want to look nothing less of Kylie Jenner at her mother’s funeral at my own press conference!”

“It is exactly because I know you’re just getting started that I think you should stop,” Younghoon quickens his steps, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “You are not only pulling our family into this - you are pulling the Lee family into this.”

“Well, hey! I wasn’t the one who put their son up for sale when the offer came along!”

“But Lee Juyeon didn’t even want to be a part of this! He had no choice because his parents made it for him!”

“And did I?!” Jang Won’s near-shriek echoes through the halls. Mr Ro winces, gently shutting his eyes to regulate the surprise. “You say that of him as if I had a choice. I didn’t want dad to die. I didn’t want to take HERA & ARTEMIS. You think I wanted to spend all those nights and days and shitty bar hangouts with rich people trying to get them to sponsor and invest in HERA & ARTEMIS? Hell, no!”

She tears her wrist out from Younghoon’s grasp, shoving him back by pushing against his left shoulder. “Maybe you don’t know how shitty it feels because all you had to do was wait for HERA & ARTEMIS to become successful enough before you could build your stupid entertainment company. But right now, I’m fighting for what I created; for what I made, and I will tell you right here and right now that I am not stopping until I get what I fucking own so you better... and I really, really, really hope you make the right decision when I say you better pick a side.”

Her brother remains frozen in some kind of resignation as she closes the gap toward him. “Just because we share the same last name, doesn’t mean I will spare you, Kim Younghoon. You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.”

Jang Won turns on her heels and strides past Mr Ro to the stairs, walking up to the second floor where she would spend the next 3 hours getting pampered and fitted for her press conference as the new bride of Lee Juyeon.

The smile Lee Juyeon has on his face looked like it was programmed; sculpted onto a stone statue; frozen in time. His father almost cannot look at it - even through the television screen, he knows it’s fake. He knows Juyeon hates it.

But Hera’s Princess couldn’t care less. Why would she? She’s getting what she wanted, or at least, part of it. Now that she’s got Lee Juyeon playing the game by her rules, she’s one step nearer to her goal, and that’s to win back HERA & ARTEMIS from her own father.

The jewel sitting on her left ring finger shone brightly with every flash a certain camera in the room went off. The Blue Nile Round Diamond 30-carat ring could blind someone if she deliberately shone its reflection into someone’s eyes.

“Today, The Board invites the next director of Apple-Korea and his newly announced fiancé, also known as Hera’s Princess and current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS to our monthly press conference of May. We warmly welcome Lee Juyeon and Kim Jang Won.”

The reporters and journalists provide a rather generous round of applause as Juyeon steps up the platform and takes his seat, Jang Won on his left with the brightest, sweetest smile he’s seen on her in the last six hours.

“Thank you. We’re absolutely honoured to be here today, my fiancé and I. Today, we announce our upcoming plans up till the end of the year, assuming my father still grants me some kind of authority to HERA & ARTEMIS,” She scoffs the last part of her sentence away, earning some scattered chuckles from the crowd. It irks Juyeon, the way he knows she’s being sarcastic and her words are filled with nothing but the poison of hatred and yet these people can’t hear it for the love of God.

Sympathy, he feels. For a short, fleeting moment, he feels sad for her.

“But otherwise, my father and I have agreed on a major reform of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

Juyeon’s eyes light up, not from enthusiasm, but anxious anticipation.

“Before my father is to take full ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS by June, firstly, we will have our wedding in April,” Coyly grabbing Juyeon’s hands and showing them off to the audience, rings around their fingers. “And secondly, after my fiancé advances to director, Apple-Korea will buy 50% of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

The effort Juyeon was investing into hiding his shock, confusion and frustration in his chest was of immense, ground-breaking magnitude. His grip around her hand tightens, and she tightens her jaw, forcing out a smile when the reporters and journalists break out into murmurs and surprised exchanges.

“My brother, Kim Younghoon, will assume full ownership of Artemis as a separate entertainment company, no longer attached to HERA & ARTEMIS. Artemis will become a collaborator or partner, no longer a subsidiary.”

The panel of officials from The Board looked extremely restless from the corner of Juyeon’s eyes, and he finds trouble in deciding which to offer more attention to: the fact that one single person was intelligent enough to send the entire world of The Board into chaos, or the fact that she was already making use of him even before he assumed the role of director.

Her fingers are now interlocked with his, resting on the table as the camera flashes go off, illuminating the room every other second.

THE BOARD’S MAY PRESS CONFERENCE:

LEE-KIM WEDDING IN APRIL, LEE JUYEON TO ASSUME DIRECTOR OF APPLE-KOREA IN MAY AND BUY 50% OF HERA & ARTEMIS, KIM JO-PIL TO ASSUME OWNERSHIP OF THE OTHER 50% IN JUNE, KIM YOUNGHOON TO ASSUME FULL OWNERSHIP OF ARTEMIS AFTER DETACHMENT, “ARTEMIS TO BECOME PARTNER OR COLLABORATOR”, KIM JANG WON SAYS

Younghoon’s inhales sharply, standing and frowning at the television screen after finally being unable to contain his shock. The reflection off the pool outside his living room paints inconsistent waves on his ceiling, the sound of pool water wading being the only thing he can hear besides the commotion from the broadcasted press conference.

Scoffing aggressively, he covers his mouth and drags his fingers down to his chin, pulling on his skin and pursing his lips into a thin, white line.

“Father, you have made the grave mistake of underestimating your daughter,” Younghoon smiles, then grins widely, somehow proud. “Her father’s daughter after all.”

Jang Won’s smile beams throughout the room, and for a split second Juyeon is mesmerized by it. Her eyes have been planted with the horrors of nightmares and terrible myths combined and yet there was something about that smile that made him think ‘Maybe being your fiance wouldn’t be too bad’.

“Before we open up the floor to the invited reporters and journalists, would Mr Lee like to say anything?” One of the officials from The Board finally gets up, hiding his confusion and anxiety behind his polite, service smile.

Lee Juyeon sits up straight in his seat, thumb gently massaging hers as he resumes the act. Jang Won’s service smile remains coded into her lips, eyes loving as she turns to him.

The whole world is watching, Juyeon. He thinks. The whole world is watching you put up this act, being in love with Hera’s Princess - arguably the most cunning name tied to The Board. Choose her and she’ll give you what you want. Choose otherwise and who knows what will happen?

“Mr Lee?”

“I think my fiancé has said everything that’s on my mind, haven’t you, love?” Juyeon smiles sweetly, eyes folding into long, thin lines. The curl of her lips are of triumph when she knows he’s bought into what she offered him; what she promised him. She cannot do this without him and he knows this, but what better way than to assert his authority than to pair up with the most powerful female in this shitty world?

Kim Younghoon’s eyes widen, fingers digging deep into the material of the cushion on his sofa as he watches Juyeon remove his hands from Jang Won’s, instead cupping her cheeks and bringing her face to his.

Mr Ro strides past the first guestroom, hearing the sound of the news playing on the television in the room. He looks through the gap of the door that was left ajar, cautiously watching Kim Jo-Pil nervously swirling a glass of whiskey in his hands as the next director of Apple-Korea tilts his head, on screen.

“Play along, would you?” He whispers, and Jang Won’s pride surges when he presses his lips into hers. The floor of reporters and journalists erupt into questions and cameras go off like Donald Trump had just been shot dead.

Kim Jo-Pil freezes, watching the whole press conference room light up with fluorescent flashes. But Mr Ro can’t help the jolt when Kim Jo-Pil deliberately flings the glass into the floor, pieces flying across the wooden flooring.

“She’s her father’s daughter after all, sire.”

#juyeon #lee juyeon #juyeon fanfic #juyeon scenario #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #the boyz juyeon fanfic #the boyz juyeon scenarios #tbz juyeon fanfic #tbz juyeon scenarios #love me a little less

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 14

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Going to Florida on vacation also seemed to be the perfect time to find out where the other boys came from and their pasts.

Chapter warning(s): The boys share their pasts, which can be rough. Mentions of suicide, past abuse, PTSD. There’s also quite some drinking in this chapter.

“He’s fine. Just a little bit too much sun.” You chuckled in a whisper, tucking Jin under the blanket. With that, you exited the room with the 6 others. The oldest had felt a little faint after playing in the sun, which led to his current state.

“We should-”

RINGGGGGGG

“Ugh, one minute.” Jimin took his phone out of his pocket, walking away to answer his call. You and Jungkook looked at each other, shrugging. You headed to the living room, with you draping your legs over Hoseok to watch television, not that Hoseok minded.

“Jin hyung is asleep... That means his snacks are unguarded!” Jungkook shot up from the couch, running to the pantry.

“Nothing stand between him and food.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Namjoon shook his head and chuckled, bidding all of you goodbye before leaving with a book tucked under his arm.

“What’s for dinner?” Yoongi asked.

“I think steak and pasta.” Jungkook said, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies. The staff that worked here had the same schedule as those back in Korea.

“What shall we do tonight?”

“I don’t know. We should stay in on our first night. To just... chill.” Hoseok shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Even when we put a vacation notice out, work doesn’t seem to stop coming.” Jimin stormed in, complaining. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at his best friend, shifting to let him sit on the couch.

“That’s what you get for opening a new place 2 weeks before the vacation. And a big place, with a lot of manpower needed.” Jungkook scoffed. Jimin sighed, full of regret. He had opened a new male host lounge for ladies 2 weeks ago and safe to say, the business was booming. His phone was ringing non-stop from wanting business partners.

“I’ll just leave it to the others to handle.” Jimin said.

“Yeah, put the phone away. You’re here to relax.” You put your hands behind your head.

“I’m guessing you did the same?” Yoongi faced you.

“My family knows I’m on vacation. There’s an emergency number if they really need to reach me, which I doubt they will. It’s my last vacation before I have to hear my mother start nagging me again.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nag you?” Taehyung tilted his head.

“My brother’s, her star child, is coming into town with my very pregnant sister-in-law for the birth of her second grandchild.” You explained and the boys all nodded, understanding. At the ball where they met your parents, there was a brief mention of your older brother.

“I was an only child. Never had siblings. Omma was worried that if she had another, he or she would come out sick like me.” Jimin forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, Chim.” You reached over to hold his hand.

“It’s okay. Fortunately, Yoongi hyung was there to break me out of the hospital.” He turned to the older, who was sitting on the adjacent couch, sipping from his red wine glass.

“You broke him out of a hospital?” Your eyes widened. Yoongi let out a long sigh, placing his glass on the table.

“Since she couldn’t figure out the reason why Jimin was always sick, Mrs Park thought the only way to provide Jimin the care he needed was to lock him in a hospital.” He explained. Jimin cleared his throat.

“I first met Yoongi hyung at a martial arts convention. Since I used to train in kendo, omma let me go but I couldn’t participate in the demonstration. When he found out that omma checked me into the hospital, he got me out and brought me to join the family. Even when I was sick, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung took care of me.” Jimin gave a small smile.

“I mean, since we’re telling our family stories, my mother abandoned me when I was younger, at an amusement park. I joined an orphanage after.” Hoseok said.

“Yoongi hyung’s father adopted me to be hyung’s playmate but that was it. We could only see each other during playtime. Other than that, I stayed in the small hut in the backyard.” Hoseok continued.

“It was practically a tool shed with a mattress.” Yoongi said bitterly.

“Yoongi, so your father...”

“He was rich, powerful, as was Namjoon’s father. We had been friends for a long time since our fathers were friends. After our fathers died, we dissolved their associations and formed our own.” Yoongi explained.

“I see... I didn’t know both your fathers were also... in the same line of business.” You tried to speak.

“With the way my father treated Hoseok and my mother, we don’t bring him up. Same with Namjoon.” Yoongi said but there was a warning tone in his voice.

“I-Is it, my turn?” Jungkook lifted his head.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You comforted. Jungkook took a deep breath, shaking his head. If anything, he trusted you and wanted you to know his background.

“I was quite a small kid, so I was generally quite quiet in school. I had one older brother. Mum and dad worked a lot so it was mostly my brother and me. At first, hyung was the best brother I could ever ask for. He took care of me, protected me, everything.” Jungkook gulped.

“Then one day, he started treating me like I was invisible, at school and at home. That progressed to him hitting me and bullying me, hurting me.” He said sadly.

“Jungkook...” Jimin said sadly.

“Namjoon hyung was passing by an alley when my brother almost beat me to death. He brought me to the hospital to get treated. Since then, I’ve been living with him.” Jungkook finished.

“Did your parents come find you?” You asked.

“They never believed me when I told them hyung hurt me. He must have told them I ran away or something since he thinks he left me for dead.”

“But you’re stronger now.” Taehyung patted Jungkook’s head. Considering Taehyung didn’t start his background story, the others assumed that he already told you about him.

“Dinner is served.” The butler informed, breaking the thick tension in the air from all the heavy conversations.

“I’ll get the others.” You said, going to head upstairs. The first person you checked on was Jin, he was still fast asleep, which you let him be. Namjoon was standing in the hallways, outside of Jin’s bedroom.

“I heard what the boys told you.” He said. You nodded your head in acknowledgement.

“(y/n), I think you know that with such backgrounds, it’s not all black and white for them. On top of always falling ill, Jimin lived with a fear of being a burden, like how his own mother treated him. Yoongi hyung lives with the guilt of how his father treated Hoseok. He feels the need to make it up to him with his life.” Namjoon started.

“Hoseok is afraid of abandonment. Taehyung dealt with meltdowns, panic attacks, so much trauma. You’ve seen it, he’s still not over what happened to him.”

“And Jungkook, I can’t tell you the number of times I had to stop him from taking his own life. He was afraid of being hurt by the one he loved, just like before.” Namjoon sighed.

“I know, Namjoon. It must have been a lot for you and Yoongi to face, along with your own fears. But look at who you saved. Where would they all be now if you and Yoongi didn’t help them?” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Everyone comes with their own battle scars. But that’s what makes us human and survivors, right?” You smiled.

“You always know what to say, doc.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Of course. I’m the best, am I not?” You nudged him, making him laugh even more. With that, the two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, where the others were seated around the table. Namjoon sat at the head of the table while you sat between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“Let’s eat.” Namjoon waved for the wait staff to bring in the trays of food and pour the drinks. Even if the dinner was quieter than usual, it wasn’t suffocating. You’ve reached a new level of understanding with the boys.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Jimin asked.

“I wanna go look around the city. If possible. Maybe buy some things for myself.” You shrugged.

“Yes! Shopping! We’ll come too!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheered. You smiled, somehow knowing that it was going to be chaotic with the boys. Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement.

“What if I wanna go on my own?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No way! It’s not safe for you to be on your own.” Jungkook shook his head, putting his arms in a cross.

“Are you saying I am not capable to defending myself?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Ooh, you’ve done it now, Kook.”

“Yeah, even I don’t go there.” Yoongi decided to join in on the fun of teasing the maknae. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he realised what he did, immediately facing you and rubbing his hands together in an apologetic matter.

“I’m sorry! You are very much capable of defending yourself! Even better than me or anyone else because you’re a strong, independent woman! I would never doubt your strength! Please don’t kill me!” He rambled on. You threw your head back in laughter, reaching over to pat his head. Even the others just looked on in amusement.

“Alright, let’s stop teasing, Koo.” You said.

After dinner, everyone was gathered back in the living room, watching some show that was playing on the television.

“The night is young! We should party!” Hoseok declared.

"This is not going to end well.” Yoongi clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. It was obvious he had to deal with his drunk brothers multiple times before.

“I brought drinks and snacks!” Jungkook brought two big trays out, one with different alcoholic drinks and the other filled with snacks, courtesy of Jin’s stash. You took a bottle of beer. Hoseok and Namjoon did the same, clinking bottles with you. Jungkook grabbed some soju.

“Hyung? You want one?” Jungkook offered a filled shot glass to Taehyung. Taehyung, who doesn’t usually drink, shrugged and accepted it. Yoongi stuck to his whiskey like always.

“Honestly didn’t think the drinking was gonna start on our first night here. But I’m not one to complain.” You shrugged.

“We’re on vacation. It’s always drinking time.” Hoseok said.

“I agree!” Jungkook grinned. You snorted in response. Jimin decided to have soju with the other two, taking an empty shot glass. Jungkook happily filled it up for him.

“Hey...” Jin stood at the stairwell.

“Hey, Jin. How are you feeling?” You asked as you stood up to head to him. Jin gave a small smile and a thumbs up.

“Are those my snacks?!” His eyes widened as he marched over.

“Shot?” Jungkook offered as a consolation. Jin glared at the maknae but took the tiny glass, glancing over at you. You shrugged, nodding your head in approval. Hoseok and Taehyung shifted to give Jin space to sit down. Everyone with their drinks, cheered to your first night on vacation, taking a swig. You leaned against Jimin’s side.

“Do you want dinner, Jin?”

“Nah, I’m fine with the snacks and drinks.” He waved you off.

“Alright but if you feel dizzy again, stop and rest. And tomorrow, please remember to hydrate yourself when out.” You lectured. The boys all groaned, even if you were only directing your words at Jin.

“Now you’re nagging.” Taehyung boxed his ears, whining. You rolled your eyes, reaching to smack him.

That night, when all the boys retreated to their rooms, passed out drunk, you were in your room spending some alone time. There was a knock on your door and you stood up from your bed, shuffling over to see who it was.

“Hobi?” You were shocked.

“C-Can I come in?” He rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded your head, stepping aside for him to enter.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly.

“Just a lot on my mind.” He admitted with a soft sigh. You sat on your bed, legs dangling off the side. You patted the space beside you and Hoseok gladly accepted, sitting beside you as the moon shined in.

“Bringing up the past isn’t easy. It opens a lot of scars you thought were healed, memories that you thought was locked away, feelings that you thoughts were gone. It’s okay, Hobi.” You whispered with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him. Hoseok placed his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.” You comforted.

“She left me there, all alone. For strangers to take me. And I probably will never know the reason why until the day I die.” He said aimlessly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Hobi.” You squeezed his hand.

“Yoongi hyung still feels so guilty for what his father did when he adopted me. But I always think that even if he did treat me badly, I still got to leave the orphanage and meet Yoongi hyung.”

“And then you met the rest of the boys. Look how inseparable you all are now.” You stroked his head.

“I also got to meet you.” Hoseok added.

“I’m just there to clean your cuts and take care of you when you’re sick.” You laughed.

“That’s not true. You mean a lot to me and everyone else, more than you’d think, (y/n).” Now, it was Hoseok holding your hands, looking into your eyes, his full of honesty and sincerity.

You woke up the next morning, rubbing your temples, feeling the slight effect of the alcohol from the night before. Hoseok was still passed out beside you, sleeping soundly. You got out of bed quietly, washing up before heading downstairs. The house was quiet, signalling that maybe no one else was awake, still sleeping the alcohol off.

“You’re up?” You nearly jumped when Yoongi appeared, drinking a cup of iced coffee, his hair slightly damp and messy from his shower.

“Yeah. I need a hangover cure and a coffee.” You went to the kitchen. The maid brought you a cup of water and the small bottle of hangover cure. You downed the bitter liquid following that with water.

“Here.” Yoongi fixed you an iced coffee of your own.

“Thank you.” You sipped it.

“Hoseok... he’s with you?” Yoongi cleared his throat as he asked. You nodded your head with a hum.

“Yeah. He came over to talk then we just fell asleep after.” You explained. Yoongi gave a nod, moving to sit out on the deck. You trailed behind him quietly, taking the seat across him. All you heard were the crashing of the waves and the strong wind rustling the trees.

“I’m part of the reason he’s like that.” Yoongi spoke.

“Why do you burden yourself with that?” You asked back. Yoongi blinked, seemingly surprised by your words.

“You know it’s not true, you know that Hobi doesn’t think that, and yet you force yourself to live with the guilt. You know that you’re not like your father, whatever he did to Hobi was out of your control.” You said.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yoongi said with gritted teeth.

“Exactly, I don’t. But what I see is you feeling sorry for yourself and Hobi being worried about showing his emotions because he doesn’t want you to start feeling guilty again.”

“He said that?”

“Not exactly. It’s pretty obvious to a bystander.” You shrugged.

“Yoongi, I have better things to do than to stand here and taunt you. The only people there were you and Hobi. Will anyone ever understand what each of you went through? I don’t know. You and I both know that Hobi holds whatever happened close to him. But he sees the light, even in a dark situation. If he can do that, I don’t see why you can’t.” You said.

“I know.” Was all he could reply.

“I’m going to check on Jin, okay?” You stood up. But you were yanked back by your wrist. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your middle.

“I hate that you’re right.” He mumbled. You let out a soft hum, patting the top of his fluffy hair. When Yoongi released you, you looked down at him.

“You saved so many of them, Yoongs. Give yourself more credit. They all look up to you for a reason.” You laughed.

“Go check on Jin hyung.” He said, patting your hip.

“Right on it, sir.” You saluted. That made Yoongi break out into a small smile as he watched you leave. You hummed a random tune as you headed upstairs to see how Jin was doing today.

“Doc? You’re here.” He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to focus his vision on you. He gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled softly as you nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you placed your hand on his forehead. He wasn’t warm to the touch.

“How are you feeling?” You whispered.

“Okay. Sleepy... Hungover.” He chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“I’d bet. You can come down later to get some hangover cure. Luckily I told the butler to stock the house when we arrived yesterday.” You patted his shoulder, making him laugh.

“(y/n)!” When you exited Jin’s room, you saw a shirtless Jungkook barreling down the hallway, headed straight for you. You jumped back but he caught you.

“Good morning, Koo.” You said in amusement as he hugged you. He mumbled something in his sleepy stupor.

“What are you saying? I can’t understand you.”

“I went to your room to look for you but you weren’t there. I thought Hobi hyung was you but it wasn’t. Why is Hobi hyung in your bed? Where were you? Ugh... I have a headache and I’m hungry.” He rambled.

“Alright, alright. Slow down. I went to get some coffee to help my hangover and was with Yoongi on the deck. Then I went to check on Jin. Hobi just stayed the night after we talked. I have alka seltzer to help your hangover and I think the chefs are cooking hangover soup for all of us. Would you also please put on a shirt?” You answered all his questions, ending with one of yours.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I don’t know! My head hurts.” He whined. You sighed, patting his back as you led him back to his room.

“You stay here. I’ll bring you a hangover cure then you can see how you feel after that.” You instructed. He nodded his head like an obedient child. You went downstairs to get a small bottle and a glass of water.

“Thank you.” He received the two, drinking one after another, cringing slightly at the bitterness.

“It should help your headache and funny stomach. I’ll go check on the others to see if they need help.” You told him, tucking him back into bed under the blanket.

“Will you come back?” He held your hand.

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