#bts science fiction!au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoongsisbae · 2 years

Text

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder | MYG

Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more.

Dystopian Fantasy AU. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi x reader

Warning: 18+ adult themes, dystopian futuristic society (IS IT THO?), graphic violence against women, animal cruelty, attempted SA, mention of suicide, police brutality, angst, sex so soft and sweet and full of consent

Word Count: 9.1k

---

“It’s her,” they said. Whispers in the crowd, repeating the phrase to one another, like a wave of hope rippling over their bodies, energizing their fight.

It was true. She was there, and the crowd could feel her power, her anger, forged from pain. Because it was their anger too. It was familiar, it was a friend reaching over their shoulder and telling them, ‘It will be okay. I’m here now. You don’t have to fight alone. You won’t lose this time, because you have me now.’

The rumors spread far, even the law-forcers knew of her. They knew of her as a myth, a story the people would tell to ease the pain of their subjugation. An empty promise shouted at the law-forcers, that one day they’ll be sorry, that one day victory won’t be theirs to take. She was the woman with the black cat on her shoulder. One look into those feline eyes and judgment is swift.

Some believed the cat is a creature from the underworld. The beast heard the people’s cries and clawed its way up into this world, collecting souls of abusers and assaulters, dragging them back down to its dark home. Some people believe the cat is part of her, she wields and controls the beast like a limb, that she isn’t human, but an angel, the savior of the people.

But she is neither and the cat is neither. She is like them. Born without wealth, without love, abandoned and alone, she grew up too quickly. A sad story told a million different ways by a million different girls. She lived her life as they all did, she worked and worked and worked and worked, and lived. She didn’t want anything more but to live...

You didn’t want anything more but to live, and perhaps it was by some divine intervention, you don’t know, that you crossed paths with a lonely black cat, so small and broken, so desperate to survive like you. You freed him and in ways you could not imagine, he freed you.

---

From the crowd of bodies, the woman with the black cat on her shoulder stepped to the front. Her clothes were black, pants torn and patched, sewn back stronger. A tight shirt so they made no mistake, it was a woman under that mask. Black cloth covering her face and hair, the amount of her hair hidden under her hood. But they could still see her eyes, accentuated by black eyeliner and hatred. And on her shoulder, a large black cat, long wild hair to match its wild eyes.

The law-forcers stood in a line, guns and shields ready. The angry crowd had nothing but hope now.

The law-forcers didn’t really believe it was her, looking down at her still. Any woman could find a black cat and pretend. They saw her as a martyr, a faker, their trigger fingers itching to make an example of her.

The cat hissed, mouth stretched wide open and long fangs displayed. The hiss was loud and piercing and the law-forcers flinched, embarrassingly reacting. The crowd jeered and laughed and the law-forcers pointed their guns at the black cat, growing in anger for being made fools.

You whisper to your companion to wait. Let them attack first. Show the world the true aggressor before them.

You waited because you knew the beast on your shoulder was a magical being. And the thing about living magic in a world filled with human creation, is that magic and technology reacted like oil and water, coexisting but unable to intermix, and magic was by far the stronger force.

Red lasers land on you and your companion, but you stubbornly stand tall and the crowd mirrors your actions. The cat growls low and menacing and hisses again. It only took one scared threatened man, one trigger happy finger, and then it was all over...for them.

A gun shot rang out, and smoke appears where the black cat on the woman’s shoulder stood, weaving and twisting in the air like black rivers, dispersing and covering the empty zone between the crowd and the law-forcers. Bullets entered the smoke and the magical force created a barrier, stopping them in midair. That is when they all knew, they knew she was not just a myth.

As quickly as the magic appeared, electricity disappeared. The energy sent a shockwave across devices. Cameras and lights, the law-forcers military grade machinery, and all that expensive technology the law-forcers depended on broke and malfunctioned. Precious moments without their weapons that give a perfect window of attack.

The crowd stands transfixed and the woman screams, loud and deep within her gut…

A roar.

The black cat appears and reappears, so quickly it’s impossible to follow the cat’s path. Fangs piercing through skin and muscle of the men paid to silence the people’s cries, now crying for help, crying in pain as sharp claws rip through kevlar and tear the flesh from their bones. She runs towards them without fear. That's what the crowd sees, they don't witness her fear of losing what she loves most that carries her feet forward. And then the crowd begins to run forward too, headed straight towards men with bullets ready to fire.

It’s chaos.

---

“Dinner’s ready.”

His voice was soft and calming but you startle awake. You don’t mean to, you’re just always on alert and so anxious these days.

His hand moves from your back to your shoulder, fingers pushing into your tight muscles. His way of telling you to relax. You place your hand over his, pulling him into bed. You’re so tired, he must be too. You wish he wouldn’t worry over you, you could have heated some left overs up instead.

The news plays loud on your home's display screen, events of afternoon recorded right before the blackout replay from many different angles. You listen to the cheers of your arrival, inwardly groaning.

Tonight it’s going to get worse, you’ve bruised the egos of the elite, and men like that always lash out in anger, unable to take a loss so great.

“We should go out tonight, just in case,” you sigh. Your companion doesn’t speak, he’s tired. He fought so hard. And he might have to do it again. But this is the life you both chose. Somehow, it has become this, nights upon nights of this. You wonder, if others had this kind of power, would they be able to sleep at night knowing they could have done something more, or would they be like you?

It wasn’t always like this. Before you were a fighter of the system, you were a victim of the system.

Like the night your companion, Yoongi, showed you what he truly was.

---

“Sweet kitty.” He purrs loudly while he eats, broken purrs between grumbles as he devours his dinner. The sight makes you laugh as he eats the meat leftover from your lunch. He waits for you, always in the same spot. The black cat you saved has taken to following you from work to your home at night. Every night you try to coax him into your house, but he never does decide to join you. He’s a cat of the streets.

You click your tongue softly as his fluffy tail wraps around your calf. Using two fingers, you run them along the cat’s back as he eats. “I have to get going, kitty, sorry for making you wait,” you muse, scratching behind the cat’s ears as he finishes. It’s later than you usually leave. Hours at the warehouse seemed to stretch longer and longer these days.

You move quickly and quietly, kept your purse tight to your side. You walked behind restaurants, away from drunken men and street girls that took over busy streets at night. Walking these dark alleys alone was daunting, but better than dealing with confrontation and a quicker route. And you had kitty. The animal gracefully walks next to you, happily bouncing along with his tail held upright. You somehow felt safer walking with the tiny street cat.

Age thirteen was the first time you encountered the wandering eyes of strangers, walking the district’s marketplace with your friends from the learning center. Three teenage girls enduring the catcalls of grown men, following you for blocks. You knew the feeling of someone watching you all too well, it was the same feeling you felt tonight.

You stop and bend down, petting kitty, cooing at how cute he looks when he stretches his neck towards you and in the corner of your eye, you noticed them, two men in the shadows following close behind you. There is no safety at night for a woman in this world. You learned that not this night, but you felt the fear of your reality in waves, stronger than any night before.

Standing up again, you ignored them and kept your pace. You were too scared to run. Running escalated things. You learned not to do such things. Once you ran they would chase, they could catch you, they would hurt you. And you knew you couldn’t fight two and win, you weren’t confident in one. You fiddle with your e-bracelet. You could signal an emergency, but the law-forcers took hours to come to this part of town, even as attacks continue to escalate, you knew they wouldn’t save you.

Kitty meows next to you. He meows, he meows, did kitty notice them too? “I know,” you whisper.

You think if you keep this pace, you can make it past the corner, and run then, hide yourself in the crowd. But like you, it was not the first time for these men either. Experienced predators, they noticed your hunched shoulders, the concentrated steps slowly escalating. They attacked.

Dirty hands grab at your body, your hair, yanking you backwards into pavement. It was too quick, too forceful.

You fought, you fought hard, with everything you had. You kicked and you screamed, and when fingers covered your screams you cried, when stronger arms and legs kicked back and shoved you back down, you pulled your limbs tightly together, protecting what they wanted from you.

You tasted your own blood, felt the sting of cuts and bruises on your body just formed and yet you still fought, unwilling to let them have any of you.

Acting on instinct to protect yourself until your legs were ripped open and your arms were held down and you retreated into your mind, thinking of what you could have done to stop this outcome, was there anything, one small difference, that could have changed everything? You were asking yourself these questions when the heaviness lessened, and your voice was no longer the only screams in the night.

You lifted your head at a terrifying sight. Limbs reacting quickly to move away from the bloodshed. You reminded yourself to breathe.

Breathe out. You looked down at the scene, the two assaulters were dead, their bodies covered in scratches.

Breathe in. And another man, black hair wild and covering his eyes. Hands red, covered in blood that wasn’t his.

Breathe out. He walks closer to you, bends down, covers your bruised cheek with his bloody hand. Street lights flicker and static electricity stings you at his touch, but you don’t flinch away, feeling a familiarity that didn’t frighten you.

Breathe in. Somehow you knew the most improbable situation was what this was, you knew what he was.

Breathe out. “Kitty?”

Even with all your breathing, you still passed out at the revelation.

---

You sit straight up, yelping, breathing eratic.

‘What's this?’ You stare at napkins and plastic bags, the trash falling away from your body. You're outside on your porch. Your purse had been underneath your head.

“Ow.” Your ribs hurt, your legs hurt, your arms hurt, your temples hurt. You run your tongue over your dry lips, over a cut and wince. Your bracelet beeps. You’re late for work.

You didn’t have time to think about last night until lunch time. Unable to make food, you stood in line to pay for lunch. Waiting for your turn in line, you listened to today’s gossip. The women of the warehouse discussed in hushed voices last night's murder. “An animal attack, they think.” “What kind of animal could do such a thing?” “Not too far from here at all, two men.” “Men?!” “From the Financial District at that.” “No CCTV either. It made the trending headlines this time.” “Maybe now they’ll do something about the attacks.” “Y/n, what happened to your face?”

“Went drinking last night, went home with the wrong one.” you mutter, running your fingers over the cut on your eyebrow.

The women look over at you with sympathetic eyes, “Please, y/n, my nephew is a good one, I wish you would give him a chance,” your coworker says, a lovely old woman who treats you like a daughter.

“You didn't met him in VR first?! They have apps now to vet men like that,” another says in an accusing tone, “I would never.”

“Men can still pay to scrub that info from their V life,” the older woman says, rolling her eyes.

You wrap your leftovers in a napkin, pocketing the food. “I don’t have time to take care of a man, sorry Auntie!” Hugging her goodbye, you try not to wince when your ribs touch.

You head back to work, lost in your thoughts, piecing together what your mind allowed you to remember from trauma of last night.

After work you wait at your usual spot, clicking your tongue, but the black cat doesn’t come.

So you wait stubbornly, until it becomes even later than the night before. You check behind trash cans and old boxes, huffing. You were so certain you saw him in the morning, scampering away from you as you woke. Where is he now? You're certain you remembered the events of last night correctly, you're sure of it...aren't you?

Your usual route has been taped off, now a crime scene, so you’re forced to walk through the crowds, weaving through drunken bodies.

Drunken men won’t leave you alone, especially one, even when you tell him off, even when you push him away, he jeers and makes fun of your bruises.

“Looks like someone already taught you a lesson on manners. Didn’t you learn anything?” he slurs, following after you.

You turn down a deserted alleyway and feel small pads hit your shoulder, the warmth of a large cat pressing down onto your back, fur ticking your cheek. You reach up to steady the cat's body, pulling him into a protective embrace close to your chest. The black cat purrs as you stand stunned, looking down at the black cat. “When did you get so big?”

The man takes a swaying step forward and the cat hisses and swats a large paw in his direction, making the man flinch back, chuckling in his drunkenness.

“Leave me alone.”

He’s too drunk, eyes glazed over, unwilling to stop now that it’s started. He lunges forward and the cat jumps out of your hands, claws aimed at the drunken man’s face. He screams as you attack as well, pushing him away as hard as you can, anger overtaking you. You don’t feel remorse as he hits the ground with a thud, blood pooling around his head, just stunned that it actually worked.

The crowd hears the commotion, men begin to head towards your location. Your heartrate spikes, preparing yourself to run, but instead someone pulls you into a hug, concealing you in the shadows, lifting you into his arms easily instead.

You’re both gone before anyone can reach you, left only to look at the drunken man, now dead.

A piercing scream echoes, but you’re already so far away. He holds you in his arms, moving across roofs with agility like you’ve never seen before. You kept your head buried in his shoulder until he landed in front of your doorstep. Placing you down, your legs buckle once they touch the ground, unable to stop yourself from falling into his arms.

You apologize, searching for your keys as he holds you upright. When you finally unlock your door he turns to leave. Just like that. No!

You find his hand, “Please don’t go, please.”

Smoke appears like a gust of wind, black and thick, and the hand you held evaporated in your palm as you coughed. When the smoke clears, a small figure stood, a cat with wild hair, his back towards you. The black cat looked over its shoulder, green eyes piercing yours.

You held in your gasp, and bent down, bruised knees hitting hard ground.

Reaching a shaky arm towards the cat, he stills. You hold your breath petting soft fur, hands delicately lifting his body into your arms. You couldn’t help the tears escaping, the wetness falling onto his soft hairs.

“I’ll stay out here then.” You whisper into fur, body shaking.

A meow erupts from the cat in protest.

For the second time you fell asleep on your front porch, for the second night you watched a man die and felt no remorse.

---

The next day at work the second murder was all your coworkers could talk about. Trending reports of another slashed bloody, a dead man found blocks away from your own warehouse. The news had trended statewide too, the headline was too juicy, too scandalous; a tourist visiting the labor district, brutally murdered on the night strip, presumably by a prostitute, a dirty woman! He was a father, a leader in the community, a good man!

Fuck him. You kept your head down and worked and didn’t entertain their gossiping. You were on edge all day until you stepped out of work and a familiar feline stared up at you, tail swishing back and forth.

You bent down and wrapped your arms underneath his fluffy belly, pulling him close to you, head nuzzling his furry body. He wiggled in your embrace but did not try to leave, paws instead reaching for your shirt and eventually jumping onto your shoulder.

That’s how your walks went from then on. You talked to him like always, but now with the understanding that he really knew the words you spoke. He never changed back into the man who helped you, and he always jumped off your shoulder before you could walk inside.

“Please come in, please.” you always said.

But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. ‘Stubborn kitty,’ you thought, and your heart hurt.

One night, instead of going home after work, you went dancing.

“Meow.”

“Is it just me, or is that stray following us?”

“Just you,” you joke, giving your date a small unconvincing smile.

You finally agreed to go out on a date with your coworker’s nephew, Hoseok. “Maybe it’s hungry.” He wonders, laying his arm over your shoulder, confused by its strange behavior.

You looked down at the black cat, walking back and forth gracefully, and looking very much annoyed. “Maybe.”

“My house or yours?” He asks, voice gruff, eyes downcast. Even the good ones still act all the same.

You smile. “Yours.”

A loud deep meow erupts from the black cat.

The next time you left the warehouse, there was no black cat. He’s mad at you. Did you deserve it? He doesn’t expect you to feed him every single night, does he? If he just accepted your offer to stay inside your home, he wouldn’t have to worry about such things, you thought, offended and weary to walk home alone, cautiously making your way down the usual path.

You heard soft footsteps behind you. ‘Not again,’ you thought. Fearing the worst you spun around, coming face to face with your ‘black cat.’ You met deep brown eyes with flecks of green that almost seemed to glow when he stepped cautiously out of the shadows.

He crossed his arms over his chest and walked towards and then past you, looking over his shoulder, an annoyed look on his face. You took the hint and stepped in line. “Um, are you hungry?”

He didn’t speak.

You dug into your purse. You held out the leftovers wrapped in foil to him. He took it and ate as he walked, big urgent bites that made you frown, noticing his hunger.

You pass a man walking in the opposite direction and your companion presses his shoulder to yours. The gesture warms your heart. Usually, when a man passed by you, you were met with questions or a comment about your body. This time nothing. The stranger keeping his head down, walking away without a word, and you almost wanted to scoff at how invisible you became now that you were in the company of a man, annoyed that’s what it took for strangers to leave you alone.

You stopped once you saw your home in the distance. He looked at you in question, turning to you for the first time. “Thank you…for walking me home tonight. And all those nights. Thank you, kitty.”

You hugged him, his body stiffened against yours and you didn’t let go until he relaxed, arms slowly reaching around you too.

“Yoongi, my name is Yoongi.” His voice was gruff and raspy like he hasn’t used it in awhile. It was the first time, in a long time he felt he had a reason to speak.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you whispered. And then you let him go, smiling, turning back to your home.

---

The thing about injustice, is that those who wield it, do not have to live with the pain they cause. But for those who are hit, every day the pain builds upon itself, robbing energy and time to tend to wounds caused by injustice, leaving scars that make it impossible to forget.

You’ve felt it growing inside you, the anger. The past continued to assault you, making you feel disgusted. You tried to ignore it, but the memories were scars inside you that keep opening, making you angrier, repulsed.

And worse, attacks in the district grew exponentially, outcries from the people were met with platitudes by officials.

And worst of all, the latest trending case involved an elite from the e-tech district. It took four women, the last one reported to have died from the trauma. Of course he faced no punishment. He was a powerful man from the e-tech district, and they were powerless labor women. Injustice upon injustice. The wounds kept on opening, your trauma you kept on remembering, again and again in the faces of these women, anger simmering and growing.

So when you walked your usual path with Yoongi high on your shoulder and heard a concealed whimper in the shadows, you didn’t just mind your own business, like you would have done out of fear no less than a year ago, you were too angry to be afraid.

“Get off of her!”

You hit his back, you hit his head, you hit any part of him you can reach. “Go! Run! Hurry!” you tell the woman, who chokes on her cries and looks at you with tearful scared eyes, nodding.

He is startled, but he is stronger, pushing you away, slapping you across the face. “Crazy bitch! You want to die, yeah?”

He hits you again and you don’t care. You kick him and hit him, knuckles hurting the most with how hard you swing.

He is surprised, but he is stronger, and it only take one solid hit to make you double over, wind knocked out of you and curling into yourself.

Legs trap your body to the ground and you feel disgusted all over again, gritting your teeth, angry tears escaping, your nails dig into his face, drawing blood that surprises you both.

He’s angry, and he’s stronger, fingers wrapping around your neck, a murderous look in his eyes that you match. You belt weakened hits down across his forearm. Part of you, furious, makes a promise that if you survive this, you’ll find a way to kill him and every man who hurts another woman with your bare hands. But another part of you, the part of you that’s tired, that expects this pain to never end, would rather just die.

A single clawed digit runs across the man’s neck, ending the fight and silencing your thoughts. Yoongi pulls the man off with you ease, throwing his dying body to the ground.

Yoongi crouches down, looking over your battered body. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!”

“We have to leave.”

“No, leave me alone!”

“Get up,” he says, insistent.

“NO!” Your breath out rapidly, unable to calm your nerves or your anger.

So Yoongi waits, sitting down next to you. “Then I’ll stay here with you.”

Finally, you calm down, tension growing as minutes tick by. “Let’s go,” you swallow, pulling off your blood soaked work shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath, standing up to leave.

“This is not the way home.”

“I know.”

Black smoke zips around you, Yoongi appearing in front of you annoyed. “Where are you going?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, you were going to find another drunk man, you were going to see if he deserved to die too. “Why did you save me?!”

He looks at you, “Because I wanted to.” His answer short, hiding his real answer.

“Why?!”

“When you found me, why did you save me?” He asks, temper rising.

You stumble over your words. “Because it was the right thing to do, how couldn’t I?”

You think back to the day you found Yoongi, thin as a rail, patches of fur missing, tape wrapped tightly around his body, barely clinging to life, you thought he was surely going to die.

It was too cruel, what happened to him, you hadn’t expected him to live through the night, but you wanted him to know kindness too, to know there were good people out there too who wouldn’t hurt him. You nursed him all night and all morning, for days, until he found the strength to walk again, and then one night when you came home from work he was gone, the following night began your walks.

“That’s why. Because it’s right,” he replies.

You swallow down angry tears. “This is not going to stop, it’s not going to stop unless someone stops it.”

---

Spring came and it became unbearably hot in your small home. You left the windows open at night to let the heat out. On your day off, you took to spring cleaning. As you cleaned you looked to the side and saw familiar black fur, Yoongi was outside your window. You put out a bowl of water on the window sill, adding an ice cube which he gratefully licked, slurping the water cutely. He looked bigger. Hair longer, he did not look like the straggly stray you first encountered. He kind of looked intimidating, you mused.

You lean your head against your window frame, running your hand through his thick fur. “You can come inside anytime you want,” you let him know, smiling.

With the spring heat, you traded pants for shorts, thinner fabric, your hair up and off your shoulders. Now that nights were no longer cold, that meant even more people outside. More attacks too, some trending cases coming in from the upper districts.

Once the brutality reached the elite, rallies begin to form, marches through the Neostate's capital. You watched on your home display, conflicted in emotions. It looked nice, but did it change anything? Maybe in those districts, but definitely not here.

It didn’t matter to you, because you promised yourself that night, you would die before you let another man take advantage of you.

So when a man put his arm over yours, pulled you out of the dance hall, and he thought of all the ways he was going to have you that night, you thought of all the ways you were going to kill him.

Alone with him, you spoke low and direct, only once telling him to let you go before he regrets it. He laughs in your face, leans into you, whisky smell coming out of his slimy lips as he attacks the corner of your mouth.

Ever since that night you let your nails grow. It made it a bit more difficult to complete your duties at the warehouse, but the trade off was worth it, watching men crumple to the floor, screaming in pain when you ripped gashes across their face. Oh, it was so worth it.

“You crazy fucking whore!” The man screeches expletive after expletive, anger growing. You don’t care.

Before you can attack again, before he can attack you, Yoongi attacks.

From behind you, moving quicker than either of you, Yoongi transforms into a man. He lands a series of punches, large hand gripping the assaulter’s face, slamming his skull hard into the unforgiving pavement.

He looks back at you and you look at him and you don’t need to speak to one another before you both are running down the alley away from the dead drunk who could have saved his life if he hadn’t tried to impose himself on you.

You walk next to one another in silence. And then you decide to turn back into the crowd. Yoongi holds you back, wearily asking, “What are you doing?”

“I’m thirsty. It’s hot. I want a popsicle.”

He stops you again. “Cmon on, I’ll buy you one too. A milk one.”

You sit on your porch, smiling at Yoongi who holds two popsicles, once in each hand, licking the frozen milk.

“You’re trending on the local page. Well I guess we’re both trending.”

Yoongi nods, focused on licking.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Yoongi nods.

“Why won’t you come stay inside?”

“My kind are territorial. If I choose a home, it’s um, important to choose the right one.”

You pout, “I know my house isn't big or fancy, but it’s sturdy. It’s not that bad.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just... I had a home once. I thought I would always be welcome. I...” He can’t finish, voice shaking.

You exhale, understanding. “I grew up in foster homes. Some were okay, but it never felt like a family. Some were...horrible...” You wince at memories. “Anyways, what’s the saying, ‘Home is where the heart is’?” You nudge his shoulder. “This feels like home right here. Here with you.” you smile. “Yoongi? Are you…purring?” You look over at him with wide eyes, hearing the familiar vibrations come from deep within his chest.

“No!” He looks away.

---

Neostate's capital never seemed to care about the attacks on women, but the attacks on men? More law-forcers tasked to your district. On every corner. Men protecting men. More arrests of street girls. A curfew for women (unless a man was with you). You could almost feel the fear and tension within the night crowds now.

The people didn’t like the constant watchful eye. Rallys were every day now. Violence was met with more violence. The women who were caught in the crosshairs weren’t taken to Neostate run prisons, no, they were taken immediately to special e-commerce owned prisons, forced to work in the gencrop fields with migrants and farmbots, forced to work with cancer causing chemicals that unions outlawed amongst its citizen workers.

And by some accounts, women were given a second, more heinous, option. Better than slowly dying from cancer causing chemicals, they could use their prison time to serve as live incubators, as human birth was always the more desired option to incubator births. That was Neostate’s answer to the violence, a more sinister, pathological brutality.

Where was the justice for the battered women? Where was the justice?

That kind of injustice, that kind of shared pain, it didn’t lessen or become better over time. It stayed, stretched and thinned, like a blanket, almost comforting at times, suffocating most of all. The hypocrisy was sparking an age old fire amongst the people who had let it simmer for too long. And now, that cloth caught fire, and there was no stopping it.

More rallies and more marches, in every district a curfew now.

The fire was flaming.

And inside danced one flame known as her. Rumors of a powerful woman, with a pet, no a beast, no a cat! People have seen her at night, seen her cat move, jumping over buildings. She walks the streets at night to deal out justice the law-forcers won’t, women she has saved talk of her all the time; the woman with the black cat on her shoulder.

One night, the men who deserved punishment, to your surprise, were in uniform.

You stood stunned, unable to process. “L-Let her go...”

“Grab her.”

Of course, unfortunately for him, Yoongi would never allow him to touch you. Larger than you have ever seen him, appearance more like a panther than a black cat, Yoongi attacked the law-forcer with ease.

This was before you learned Yoongi’s abilities were unmatched by bullets. You jumped in the firing path of the law-forcers. Your vision blurred from the blood loss and the immense black smoke that suddenly appeared. It was everywhere, and Yoongi was unstoppable.

Everything was destroyed. The destruction didn’t look human, didn’t even look monstrous, it looked like a killer force of nature.

You only heard rumors of it like everyone else, the unexplained phenomena that took the lives of two heroes, because you fell unconscious before you could witness Yoongi's true power.

You woke up in your bed, bandaged, Yoongi and an unfamiliar man at your bedside.

Your throat itches, dry from days of sleep. Your muscles stiff, tight bandages around your stomach.

“Hello,” the stranger besides Yoongi speaks calmly. “I’m Namjoon, a friend of Yoongi’s. You’re okay now, we were able to stop the bleeding, no major organs or arteries were hit, you’re lucky.”

Lucky, he says. You groan. “You’re doctor?”

“Not quite,” he laughs uneasily. “A veterinarian.” He smiles sheepishly.

You fell asleep after the small exchange, and woke up with a small black cat purring across your chest, feet and tail tucked in, head resting under your chin.

You find enough energy to pet him softly. “Don’t leave, please,” you croaked out, half asleep. “You’re my home.”

Yoongi never left.

---

These days, when you walked with Yoongi, he walked in human form beside you. Yoongi stayed more and more in human form. Stray cats were being round up and euthanized. Animal hospital records were being sequestered and families who owned black cats were being investigated by the State. All over a rumor. Well, the rumors of the woman with the black cat on her shoulder had become more than just gossip between warehouse workers. Whispers of you were heard in every home, in neighboring disticts, in Neostate's capital! You and Yoongi have become a symbol of strength, of hope, a battle cry, a reason to keep fighting.

“What should we get? Hweh?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, shaking his head no.

“Hmm,” you browse through the food screen at the grocery kiosk, “Well I can’t afford steak,” you pout.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Noodles!” Yoongi visibly grimaces at the thought, making you laugh.

“How about we settle for chicken?” You smile. Yoongi smiles wide. You somehow always ended up buying the chicken set.

“Y/n? Hey! How have you been?”

“Hobi, hey!” You turn around to see Hoseok’s cheerful face smiling down at you. “I’m great, all things considered.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. You know, I pick up my Aunt and some of the other girls from the warehouse after their shift ends. Has she told you? I can take you home too. It’s not safe to walk alone at night.”

“It’s never been safe,” you sigh. You knew, most women now walked in pairs or with a trusted male escort. “I’m fine,” you reassure Hoseok, “Yoongi walks with me.” you look over to your companion, smiling. If Hoseok only knew how many walks it has been now.

“Oh, nice to meet you! Are you…together?”

“He’s my fr-” You feel Yoongi’s hand reach for yours, intertwining his fingers as he stares down a confused Hoseok. “-iend.” You look down in surprise at his hand tightly holding onto yours.

“A-Ah, okay.” Hoseok looks away flustered by the way your companion stares daggers into him.

The screen beeps and the kiosk's door opens, your food bagged and ready to be picked up. “We g-gotta go.” You turn, pulling Yoongi along.

You walk home and Yoongi never lets go of your hand.

You don’t question him, afraid he might take it the wrong way, instead enjoying the moment, because as affectionate as Yoongi was in cat form, he never touched you unless absolutely necessary in human form.

Yoongi, however, silently stews over the brief encounter, feeling more and more threatened by the man who took you on a date so long ago. Once you enter your home you finally ask him, “Are y-you okay?”

“Yes.” He says, still holding your hand. Lips pressed into a tight line, full of jealousy and quiet rage.

You raise your eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

“You see me as a friend?” he snaps.

“You, um, don’t see me as a friend?” you ask confused.

“I see you as more.” He says it softly, eyes staring you down. He looked angry but he looked sincere, confusing you.

“What do you– What do you mean, Yoongi?” You heartbeat escalates in anticipation.

He didn’t have a proper word for it, the closest human word didn’t sound right at all. He saw you as more, yes, he felt a connection so deep to you, words couldn’t describe it.

He lifts your intertwined hands over his heart, struggling to say what he felt. “You’re– with me– You’re home.”

He raises your hand to his mouth, pressing the skin to his lips softly, before licking.

You smile, giggling at his cute affection before moving closer to him, burying your head into his chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat.

“You’re…more than a friend.” You whisper. You look up at him, catching his eyes, irises such a deep brown shade with tiny flecks of green, his eyes so mesmerizing. “I love you.”

The words were barely spoken. He bends his head down, forehead meeting yours, long messy hair still as soft as a cat’s, ticking your skin. He's closer than he’s ever been to you. You took the chance to move one last inch, closing the distance, pressing your lips against his.

His soft lips brush against yours, making you feel so good you have to force yourself to pull away from him. “Was that okay?”

He answers you by kissing you again, this time with intention, his lips moving against yours, soft and hard and soft and hard and so so warm.

Your heart overflows, it makes you feel dizzy, a happiness you weren’t used to, only touching the surface of the love you felt for him but never diving in, and now it felt so strong and all consuming it left you breathless.

You hug him close again, anchoring yourself to him. “Did I do it wrong?” he hesitates.

“No, everything is right, everything.”

---

You answered Hoseok's chat right away.

“How did this happen?!” You move beside Hoseok, staring at the hospital bed where his Aunt lies, bandaged and connected to tubing.

“She got caught up in the rally. The law-forcers thought she was a protestor. What shit, they hit her thirteen times! She was still in her warehouse uniform!” You put your hand over her bruised knuckles. Hoseok’s shoulders rack with sobs, Mrs. Jung was Hoseok’s Aunt, but she raised him like her own. “The march was so large I couldn't get my car through the crowd, I couldn't get to her!” He cries, feeling guilty and distraught. You turn to Yoongi, exchanging silent words.

You never attended the marches, deciding to pick your battles. But this time, you decided you enemy was not only a misogynistic bottom feeder from the labor district, not just a sadistic elite taking advantage of his status to hurt women, or a sexist law-forcer abusing his power, your enemy had become bigger, a system working against women like you at every turn. You were going to defend yourself and the women you loved, and even the women you didn’t, you decided.

And that is why you and Yoongi revealed yourselves to the world. You had enough. The people had enough. And this time, because of you, the people had won. It showed the world, power is not just given to men.

---

“The Women’s Protection Act,” your coworker scoffs, moving the hospital food around her plate, “Sounds like Enslavement.” She frowns. “My husband is dead, how am I supposed to get to work if I can’t even leave my own house by myself?”

“I could take you.” Hoseok says.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s a nice thought, but doesn’t fix the problem.”

“It won’t pass, right?” Yoongi asks.

“They’re scared of us, it will pass,” you say solemnly.

“Then we fight.” Yoongi says. You all turn to stare at him. “Err right?”

“Fighting here does nothing, the elite districts have to join in, for real.”

“Those girls never worked a day in their life,” she groans, “you think they will dirty their hands for us?”

“If they had someone to rally them, I bet they would… The woman with the cat on her shoulder.” Hoseok says wistfully. “They would follow her, look what happened.” You catch Yoongi’s eyes and quickly look away.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Those fuckers’ weapons all jammed. Can you imagine that cat of hers in the e-tech district?” Hoseok’s Aunt cackles, “Oooh, the entire place would combust!”

You swallow hard while Hoseok joins in on the laughter. “Ahh that would be great. But the capital has technology that hasn’t even reached us yet, I don’t think she could even survive a fight like that.”

“We should still try.” Yoongi murmurs.

“Yeah? Got a way to chat her? I’d love to meet her,” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, crossing his arms, huffing.

You ignored Yoongi’s questions all night, until finally you snap.

“What if you die?!”

Yoongi looks at you stunned, chuckling. “You’re not worried about yourself?”

You scoff. “I should have died a long time ago.”

“Me too, but a woman saved my life when she didn’t have to, gave me…a home.”

“W-We could expand our watch over to the agriculture district instead. That’s something we can fight and win. Maybe we should just focus on that?” Yoongi stays quiet. “Why help the Elites when half of them agree with the act?!” You ask angrily.

“If you want to stay…I’ll stay with you.”

Every part of your being is screaming at you not to back down now. “I don’t want to lose you.” Yoongi kisses your forehead, hugging you close.

To the capital.

You didn’t want to disappear and worry Hoseok and his Aunt, so you went to the antique store and bought paper, wrote a note using real ink for the first time in your life. You gave it Hoseok after leaving the hospital for the last time. Now three people knew your secret. Well, three people and a cat.

“Packed?” He asks.

You nod, on the verge of tears. You hated this place, why did it hurt so much to leave it?

Yoongi sensed your sadness, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m being silly,” you sniffle.

“You’re not, it’s okay to feel sad.”

You finally broke down in Yoongi’s arms. You were terrified and you were sad. You felt like you were being pulled away at sea, the currents of the revolution were too strong for you to swim through, you weren’t strong enough for this. You had no real power, it was all Yoongi, you were a fraud, and you were going to drown and take Yoongi down with you.

A soft purr pulled you away from your thoughts, Yoongi trying to console you the only way he knew how. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, damn if it didn’t work. He’s too cute, too loyal, too perfect for someone like you. You didn’t deserve him, but you were too in love to let him go now.

You lay against him, sharing your bed one last time. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my fight.”

“I might not understand everything, but I know what you’re fighting for is what I want to fight for too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. No matter where we go, my home is you.”

He kissed you softly, wanting to make the moment last. Soft kisses became stronger, deeper. Hands wrapped loosely around your waist and became tangled in your hair, cupping your cheek, firm, pulling you into him.

You moved on instinct, nestling your body close to his, pressing tight to his strong frame. Your heart began to beat so quickly it matched his own, your breath escalating against his lips. You didn’t want it to end, you wanted to be closer, always closer. You wanted all of Yoongi.

“Is this okay?” you ask between heated kisses, Yoongi nods quickly, groaning, head falling forward into the bend of your shoulder as your fingers wrap around his shaft, feeling him harden as you pump. His tongue runs along your shoulder, softly scratching your skin, making you shudder and moan.

His mouth envelops your own, this time with more urgency, tongue licking over your lips until you part them for him. He takes his time tasting and licking into your mouth, holding you tightly as you work to pleasure him.

“I want you, y/n.” Yoongi grunts, moving his body over yours, watching you intently, memorizing your heated expressions to memory. “Please?” he asks, licking his lips.

“Yes,” you nod, widening your legs for him. His fingers pull at your panties, growing a claw just to tear the fabric away. You pull your nightshirt quickly over your head before he can tear it off too.

He stills and admires your body before lips kiss the newly exposed skin as he presses his body down onto yours, slowly connecting himself to you, inside and out. You gasp, stretched by his length, try to steady harsh breathing. Having sex with Yoongi was nothing like you ever felt before, it was so gentle even when he rutted hard into you. It wasn’t just sex, it was making love. The pleasure, the love, it was overwhelming, his fingers exploring your body, pulling at your curves, pinching the most sensitive parts of you.

So much love, so much pleasure, your walls began tightening around his length until he couldn’t hold back any longer, mouth finding the sensitive part of your neck and biting down, releasing inside you. He relaxed into you, licking the mark, softly apologizing. It didn’t even hurt, you reassured him, the pain eclipsed by the pleasure and happiness you felt. It felt so good and right.

He kissed along your neck, down your shoulder, across your chest, moving lower and lower, determined to give you just as much pleasure as you gave him. Rough tongue licking across your sensitive skin until he fell in between your legs, admiring your beauty. You shiver as his fingers run along your sex, push the liquid overflowing out of you back inside, his come, possessively wanting to mark you still. He keeps his fingers deep inside you as he licks your core, tongue pressing over your nub sending shockwave of ecstasy through you, building the pleasure inside you once more until you reach euphoria’s edge again, this time toppling over. He moans into your core satisfied, your walls clenching around Yoongi’s fingers.

“Come here,” you finally rasp out, as Yoongi is all too happy to continue to lick you clean.

Hugging him close, tangling your limbs together, you fall asleep one last time in the largest district in the Neostate, the labor district.

---

“How the heck are we supposed to get a pass to visit the e-tech district?” you realize, asking Yoongi when you both step out of your home at sunrise.

He smirks.

“Hey Joon.”

“Ahh look at you! You look great.”

“Yeah...Well, Yoongi is not happy.” You frown.

“It will wash off, they do this to all the pets in the higher districts.” Yoongi growled and panted in his cage, his fur a bright shade of purple.

“Let’s go, ‘wife.’” Joon held out his elbow to you.

Loud hisses emit from the cage. You laugh awkwardly, wearing clothes that cost more than your entire wardrobe.

“So your family is from the financial district, eh?” You ask trying to break the tense silence. Joon, Yoongi, and you took a bus to the distribution district, and then once you arrived you transferred into a private driverless car sent by his family.

Namjoon smiles, “Yeah, want to know why I stayed down there, I assume?”

“The thought crossed my mind, yes.”

“Love is funny that way,” he sighs. “They really try to box us into different sectors, make it so hard for each of us to find happiness somewhere else, but when you find the one, nothing else matters.”

You clutch the altered ID card of Namjoon’s late wife.

“You stayed, even after, when you could have gone back...”

“I never had a reason to until now.” He taps on the cage, “Plus, I had a very stubborn patient who wouldn’t leave either,” he raises his voice, teasing Yoongi.

You make it to the financial district in Namjoon’s smart car. You walk with Namjoon to your hotel with Yoongi in tow and you've never seen so many...things. Useless things. What is that thing? Pouring out water you can't even drink. Where does the water go? Why are they wasting so much water?! Water is a scarce commodity, it doesn’t make any sense!

‘Neostate’s Safe Sector continues to riot as our Capital’s Citizen’s Defense Force begins deployment to our nation’s largest sector.’

“Did they just call our district…the Safe Sector.” You blink. “Namjoon places a finger over his mouth, signaling your silence.

He turns the hotel’s display screen’s volume up louder, closing the blinds. He clicks the release on your e-bracelet, placing both his and yours in his suitcase. “Surveillance here is much worse,” he whispers.

You mouth the words ‘safe sector,’ aghast.

Namjoon laughs quietly. “I mean, I don’t think they meant safe as in safety, but I see what you mean,” he whispers.

“Can I let him out now?”

Namjoon nods and Yoongi stretches his tiny cat body outside his cage, bounding towards the hotel room’s bathroom.

“Wait!” Namjoon whispers urgently, running after him. “Don’t transfo-”

“THE FU-” Namjoon covers Yoongi’s mouth. Finishing the proclamation, “ONLY ONE SINK?!”

“Huh?!” you rush towards the bathroom but it promptly shuts in your face.

“What’s wrong? I want to see!”

You hear snickering on the other end of the bathroom door and the soft whipping of a towel smacking marble, Yoongi taking out his anger on the poor bathroom’s sink. You can only imagine what he looks like now, you sigh, vowing to make Namjoon tell you in detail what happened.

“Do you know what a blueberry is?”

“No.” you say excitedly, you wait to hear Namjoon’s explanation.

In your lap, Yoongi bristles, purple tail puffing out in all directions.

“Even with your e-braclet completely offline, I’m still worried. An alert might still send off if they notice someone from the labor district in the capital. I sent it back to Hoseok, Yoongi said that it was okay.” Namjoon whispers.

You nod, a little disappointed your v-life was now truly non-existent. ‘Yoongi is home,’ you repeated in your mind, petting a purring Yoongi. “I got you a new one,” he hands you the shiny new tech. “It’s rudimentary, uses old satellite tech instead of the web. I programed my number and a few trusted others from other sectors. Now, remember your lines for the border-forcers?”

“Yeah, I’m visiting for the day to buy a dress because my husband is being honored with an award.” You say, gripping the leash connected to Yoongi as if your life depended on it, “...with my cat.”

Underneath your expensive clothes you wore all black. You walk in hand with Namjoon, pass a large metal installation sticking out of the sidewalk. It’s marked ‘emergency,’ a button with an icon of a woman engraved in the metal. You wonder what exactly would happen if you pushed it.

How many times has that button been pushed, you wonder, would this district even need a use for such a thing? You took in each passerby. There were so many…men. You’ve only passed by one other female and no children. The men here had manners, which only meant they kept their heated stares upon you for only moments before hurriedly going about their day. But as you pass another installation you think there must be a reason.

“I’m in surgery with a patient, that’s why I can’t come with you. But…” he waits for you to remember your lines.

“There’s a family friend waiting to escort me on the other side,” you repeat the lie.

“Great, you got this! Now, try to keep your chin up, act like you belong.”

Ugh.

---

You look across the city lights, so many buildings, so many people. Everything looked so new and clean and so different. The wind was even different here; crisper, fresher.

Under these circumstances, you could see why it was easier for most of them to ignore the abuse. You had to believe they wanted to stop it too. You had to believe the oppression broadcasted from other districts had echoed loud enough with an uncanny cry, familiar to them too.

Well, for now you’re here with just one other by your side and the hopes of your people on your shoulders.

“What do you think, Yoongi?”

Yoongi turns his head and smiles, stealing a kiss. “I’d say I have seven more lives, at least,” he muses.

“What’s the supposed to mean,” you huff, weary. You hold up the plastic map, it generates the landscape, Yoongi studies nine Xs across the terrain. “You know there are only two women on the council? And one of them is in favor of the act! Well,” you sigh, “I guess a 50/50 vote is the best odds we could hope for.” You think out loud.

Yoongi crouches down, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, settling on his back. “Ready?” he asks.

“No,” you mumble, “What did you mean by seven lives?”

“Just that...my last life, I want to spend just being happy with you.”

You hug him tighter, nodding. Smokes appears around you and wherever you and Yoongi go. The power goes out and the city shuts down. It’s not the women who are afraid, it’s the men.

---

The line “forged from pain,” what I meant was, written from pain. This is pain and anger and sadness of a woman in a society that wages war against women. Sorry, no lightheartedness from me for awhile. If you didn’t like this story or its ending, I’m not sorry. I will finish my WIPs soon, but I’m going to keep writing stories like this for now.

Spring Fling Masterlist

#yoongi smut #bts smut #bts angst #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fantasy au #bts hybrid au #bts science fiction au #bts dystopian au #sugar fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanficton #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #suga smut #min yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #hybrid bts #bts hybrid fic

958 notes · View notes

oshisanbignaturals · 2 months

Text

Cyber catboy biology 101

Part of my enstars kemono cyberpunk au which i wrote a little about here

#enstars #bt #myart #aira shiratori #mika kagehira #IVE BEEN #THINKING ABT THIS AU FOR ALMOST A YEAR ?????#IM CRAZYYYTYY #🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪#i love making aus i love putting my fav characters in situations #orz #n i also love fictional pseudoscience 😋😋#<- (says guy studying for a science degree)

19 notes · View notes

thecrowtit · 1 year

Text

Man Made Love

(alternate title: 사랑으로 만든 사람)

Ship: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi

Rating: E (just in case)

Summary:Jungkook a genius college dropout is a pleasure bot programmer at Machina and his brother Jungha designs new technology at HYBE Tech. When Jungha is killed in an accident, Jungkook is left with the odd android MYG93 and a dangerous mystery that threatens them both.

#science written by someone who doesn’t know science #science fiction #questioning morality #YoonKook #kookgi #SugaKookie #bts fanfiction #Au #YoonKook Au

18 notes · View notes

taebear24 · 1 year

Text

Dépaysement

2.9k / ongoing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34738207

#taekook au #bts fanfction #bts fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 works #taekook #fantasy #jeon twins #science fiction #mcd

0 notes

olderthannetfic · 7 months

Note

Opinion on the comments in some of the the @ao3topshipsbracket polls: a wildly popular ship is not the same as one that had an actual impact on fandom history. Most popular ships have little to no impact outside their own fandom. Which isn’t to say that ships can’t have impact on their own fandom history, just that they don’t have much impact on general fandom history as a whole.

I understand that the polls aren’t actually measuring fandom history but this got me thinking about what has actually and I think these are the ones:

Spirk - origin of slash fandom shipping and laid the groundwork for fandom/shipping in general

MSR - responsible for the term ‘shipping’ and was the driving force behind the beginning of fandom/shipping on the internet and the creation of fanfiction.net

BTVS - (unfortunately) gave rise to the idea of being ‘anti’ something and ship wars

Harry Potter - most affected fandom on livejournal by the censorship which led to the creation of ao3

Thoughts? I couldn’t think of another fandom/ship that has huge impacts outside of their own fandom.

Strikethrough made people more eager for AO3, but the original inspiration was a for-profit fic archive made by venture capitalists.

The X-Files' big archive was Gossamer. Was MSR really influential in the creation of FFN? I don't remember that.

What ships have a big impact really depends on era and how you're looking at things. K/S and MSR are the obvious ones from long after the fact, yes.

Starsky/Hutch was what really split Media Fandom from literary SF fandom. Star Trek started the split, but it was people getting into a buddy cop show that made it clear that fanfic zine types weren't just about science fiction anymore, not even "mass media" SF in place of book SF.

Bodie/Doyle was the moment people stopped being media fans and started being Slash Fandom specifically. The US fandom had barely even seen the show: they were there for the slash zines.

Jim/Blair fandom gave us sentinel/guide AUs. The Sentinel as a canon sure as fuck didn't.

Ranma fandom set the pattern for every dumb "which girl will he end up with?" fight in anime fandom forever after.

IDK if we can blame 1x2 as opposed to Gundam Wing fandom for inspiring people to many other incomprehensible math equation ships in every anime fandom with dumb number names.

Popslash popped a bunch of prudes' RPF cherries, then LOTRiPS did, then J2 did, then hockey did, then BTS did.

Free! and then Yuri on Ice started the long slide from anime fandoms mostly refusing to leave FFN to newer anime fandoms being on AO3. YOI also lured a lot of people into anime for the first time.

Wangxian got a bunch of "Ewww, no anime ever! Western fandoms 5eva!" people into Asian fandoms at long last. (Whether this was a good thing is a matter of opinion. Hahaha.)

I really think it depends on frame of reference.

244 notes · View notes

agustdakasuga · 10 months

Text

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 6

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

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

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Jimin’s words stayed in your mind. You were being selfish. Your feelings aside, you knew the boys were trying their best to honour your father’s words and wishes. All the while you’ve only been protesting but now, they’ve helped you when you needed help.

“I need to return the favour, don’t I?” You sighed, asking yourself. You shook your head and turned back to your assignment in front of you. This was what you needed to focus on now.

“Hey.” Wonwoo whispered, two coffees in his hands. He placed his bag down and took the seat next to you.

“How was class? And thank you.” You received the coffee.

“Boring. How’s your essay coming along?” He asked. You shrugged, not really having paid any attention to the assignment. You knew you wouldn’t be able to do any work at home so that’s why you’re at the library.

Wonwoo decided to accompany you to study, which may be a good thing. He’ll keep you in check and ensure you get work done.

“You don’t have to stay with me. You can go home, I’m sure you have better things to do.” You said, facing the screen as you typed your essay based off your notes.

“You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Besides, whatever assignment you’re working on, I probably have to do it too. We are in the same classes.” Wonwoo stated, taking his laptop and notebook out. You hummed, nodding in agreement. To help you pick a major, you’ve been taking extra classes in various subjects.

“Are your extra classes going well?” Wonwoo asked.

“I would like to think so. I’m taking the basic classes in the choices I have narrowed down... It’s between the life sciences field and the linguistic arts realm at the moment.” You informed.

“That’s something?” Wonwoo said, trying to sound positive. You raised an eyebrow, letting out a scoff before continuing your essay.

You and Wonwoo continued to do your work with the occasional chatter until he decided to call it a day at 11pm. The study area of the library was open 24/7 so it wasn’t surprising to see students study until the sun rose.

“Do you want to get supper before heading back?” Wonwoo asked.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a little drained so I think its best I head back. We’ll go another day, I promise!” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“It’s okay. I can drop you-”

“(y/n).” You both turned to see a Bentley there. The back seat window rolled down and you saw Yoongi there. He leaned down enough for you to see him but his face was a void of emotion.

“You free?” He asked. The driver came out and opened the door for you despite not having made the decision. You chewed on your bottom lip before letting out a sigh. You gave Wonwoo a small wave before sliding into the back seat. The driver closed the door behind you.

“Are you always leaving the campus at midnight?” Yoongi asked. Half his arm is rest on the open window sill, burning cigarette between his fingers.

“Just trying to find a place with no distractions to get work done.” You shrugged. You drummed your fingers against your thighs as you waited for him to speak.

“Speak your mind. Say whatever you want.” He spoke.

“I don’t... really know what to say.” You confessed. You thought you would have time to plan what to say to them when the universe cursed you to cross paths with them again. This spontaneity was difficult for you.

“You don’t have to say anything then. We’re here.” Yoongi said. You looked up, not having realised you were home.

“It’s late but... D-Do you... want to c-come in?” You gulped as you offered. You really hoped you wouldn’t come to regret your words. Yoongi nodded and snapped his fingers. The driver opened the door for you then Yoongi. Yoongi trailed behind you, hands in his pockets as you fished your keys out and unlocked the door.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” You gestured to the small seating area. He sat down on the couch while you went to get him a glass of water. You didn’t know what other drink to offer him.

“I owe all of you an apology. I’ve been selfish and-”

“I hope you understand, I didn’t come here for you to apologise to me.” Yoongi cut you off, placing the glass on the coffee table.

“I just... want you to know I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.” You replied, sitting down opposite him. He nodded his head to let you know he at least acknowledged your words.

“Jimin’s an idiot. He speaks before he thinks.” Yoongi said.

“No... He’s right. Whatever he said that day.”

“Tch, stop being a pushover. I came here to tell you that you shouldn’t let his words affect you but I see I’m too late. Clearly.” He clicked his tongue, reaching over to drink more water. You sighed, head hanging down.

“So you’ve lived with your mother here your whole life?” Yoongi asked, changing the subject. He wasn’t good at comforting people, not that he ever cared, but it wasn’t his intention to make you feel worse either. The best thing to do is to change the subject.

“Yeah. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. Small but just right for us to be comfortable, I guess.” You shrugged, looking around.

“Must be nice to have a relationship with a parent.” Yoongi said.

If an ordinary person said the same words as him, it would usually be filled with bitterness and hold resentful connotations. But when Yoongi said that to you, there was nothing. He didn’t sound jealous, hurt, nothing.

“Would you like something to eat? For supper.” You offered. Now it was your turn to change the subject.

“I’ll order.” He took his phone out but you stopped him.

“No. You’re a guest in my house now.” You insisted. Yoongi paused but nodded, putting his phone back into his pocket. The both of you decided to get a box of rose tteokbokki and a mixed fried food platter to share. After you placed the order online, all that was left was the wait. You excused yourself to use the bathroom since you were still dressed in university clothes.

“Sorry about that.” You came back down after changing your clothes. There was no time to shower but at least you were now in some fresh smelling clothes and not the ones you were wearing the whole day.

“No worries. The food just came.” He said, taking the food out of the bags. You noticed that he had gotten more comfortable, putting his suit jacket aside.

“Here.” You went to get him a small plate.

It would usually feel weird that you’re sharing food, especially from a communal bowl, with someone you treated as a stranger. But it strangely felt okay, almost comfortable. Yoongi and you dug into the food.

“Actually, I have beers, which would go along with this. Want one?” You asked after you swallowed your food.

“That would be nice.” Yoongi said. You sotod up and went to the kitchen.

“Woah~!” You were suddenly on your tiptoes, not having noticed that Yoongi was behind you when you turned around. He caught you to prevent you from falling backwards. He let go of you, taking the beer can out of your hand with a small, grateful smile.

“Didn’t think you’d be someone to have readily available beer in your fridge.” Yoongi noted as he sat back down with you to eat. You cracked open your beer and took a sip.

“I’m still human. I also need to destress sometimes.” You looked away in embarrassment. The man just chuckled at your reaction.

“Is university tough?”

“Not... really?” You blinked, surprised by the sudden conversation.

“Come on. You can be honest. If you hate it, say you hate it.” Yoongi leaned back as he chewed on a piece of kimchi.

“Well, I’m just not sure if I am wasting my time. It’s not that I don’t like it or am necessarily struggling. I can’t even decide on a major, I don’t know what I want to do in life. If I don’t even know, why am I there?”

“You don’t HAVE to have your life planned out, you know? Just... do what you want, when you want. Let life sort itself out, some things are not within our control. Who knows, you might find something along the way.” Yoongi advised.

“Never thought about it that way...” You hummed.

“I hate to sound cliche but when doors close, more will open. You discover you hate something, you move closer to know what you want.” He said.

“What about you? You all seem to already be working, whatever you guys do or did for my father. How did you know that this was what you wanted to do?” You asked back.

“My brothers and I have been doing this for a long time. We never had proper childhoods or upbringings. Everything that we know, we taught to us by your father or learnt on our own accord, it was what we did to survive in the world. For me, school didn’t equip me with the actual knowledge I needed so I never wanted to go.” He explained.

“Are you tempted to drop out now?” Yoongi smirked.

“No... My mother sacrificed a lot for me to go to university. The least I can do is get a degree. She never pushed me to pick a specific major so that’s still up to me.” You said.

“You’re very filial.” Yoongi noted.

You hadn’t realised that you and Yoongi spoke and ate until 3am. He helped you gather the trash and you tied up the bags, momentarily excusing yourself to go bring the trash out to the curb while he wiped the table.

“Just let me do the dishes real quick.” You washed the small plates and beer glasses that you both used.

“Yoongi sshi-” You were wiping your hands as you came from the kitchen. Looking up, you saw that Yoongi had fallen asleep.

“Hmm...” Looking at the sleeping male, you were unsure of what to do. You didn’t want to wake him up even if sitting up and sleeping was gonna hurt his back in the morning. Going upstairs, you went to retrieve a blanket for him and carefully draped it over his body.

“Goodnight, Yoongi sshi.” You whispered before going upstairs.

“Finally, I can have a shower.” You sighed happily, taking a much needed shower. When you came out, you went downstairs to check on Yoongi before going back to your room.

Despite it being so late and feeling the exhaustion, you couldn’t sleep. You thought about Yoongi downstairs and what you talked about. You didn’t think that you would have an almost personal conversation with him.

But you were grateful that he didn’t mention anything regarding your father, the business, or what you planned to do next.

And for the first time in a long time, you were not alone in the house.

“Let life sort itself out.”

At about 7am, you yawned and rubbed your eyes. You had tried to do work to make yourself tired enough to sleep but it didn’t work. You put your laptop aside and went downstairs. But the couch was empty. The blanket folded neatly and placed aside.

“Yoongi sshi?” You called out. With no reply, you assumed that he left, until you saw a trail of smoke from the window by the front door.

“You’re up early.” Yoongi said as you stood behind him. He just sat on your front door step, smoking his cigarette. But when you came, he dropped it and crushed it beneath your foot.

“It would be rude of me to leave without a goodbye. After your hospitality.” Yoongi stood up, dusting his pants.

“I’m sorry, my couch probably wasn’t very comfortable to sit on.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Thank you, (y/n). I’ll see you soon.” Yoongi gave you a nod before walking away. His driver arrived, opening the door for Yoongi to enter. He rolled down the window and shot you a wave. You awkwardly waved back.

“Guess I’m not going to university today.” You yawned again before shuffling back into the house.

“Wow, Yoongi ah. You were out the whole night... Welcome home.” Jin stopped as he crossed paths with Yoongi while he was heading to the dining room, taking the time to tease the shorter male. Yoongi rolled his eyes, ignoring the eldest. He didn’t want to have breakfast, still feeling full from the supper, but he did want a coffee.

“Send it to my room. I’m going to shower.” Yoongi ordered. The butler bowed and went to the kitchen to get Yoongi’s order, assigning the maid to get Jin’s breakfast ready.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“What...?” Taehyung groaned, rolling around in his blanket. Yoongi strolled in, fresh out of the shower. He threw something at Taehyung.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hyung, you went to see (y/n)?” Now Taehyung was awake as he recognised the jacket that he had lent you a while back when he sent you back from the club. If Yoongi had it, meant that he met you.

“Hyung! Don’t ignore me~ The only way you would have this jacket is if (y/n) gave it to you.” Taehyung chased after him.

“You were with her the whole night? What did she say?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip of his iced coffee from his table. Taehyung jumped onto Yoongi’s bed, getting comfortable in the other male’s sheets.

“Get out.” Yoongi glared. Taehyung ignored him, snuggling deeper into the black satin sheets, messing everything up.

“Fine. I just went to make sure that Jimin didn’t get to her. As much as Jimin’s words were right, I know Namjoon is stressed about making things work out between her and us. And we can’t expect him to do everything while we just kick back.” Yoongi crossed his arms.

“And...?”

“And what? Of course she feels bad after what Jimin said. She’s a regular human being, she’s not us. But that doesn’t mean she’s just going to drop everything and resume the title of the head.” He said.

“I see. Jimin’s been keeping everything in for a while now, especially after boss’ death. He can’t help that it all exploded.” Taehyung shrugged.

“It’s not just him. We all didn’t mourn.”

“Hyung...”

“But sometimes, it’s not about us and what we feel.” Yoongi sighed. Taehyung didn’t reply. Instead, he got up and left Yoongi’s room to let the older take a rest. Finishing his coffee, Yoongi laid in his bed and finally went to sleep.

Jimin leaned against the wall, having overheard the conversation between Taehyung and Yoongi. When his 95′ brother came out from Yoongi’s room, he hadn’t even noticed Jimin just standing there against the wall, probably just half asleep. He let out a long sigh.

“Chim.” Namjoon called out. Jimin looked up at the leader.

“Go sleep. You haven’t slept in 3 days. We’ll talk when you wake up.” Namjoon ordered. Jimin just looked away.

“Here. Now, go.” Namjoon handed him something and patted his shoulder. The younger nodded glumly and went back to his room. He looked at the sleeping pills that were placed in his hands.

Ever since he snapped at you, he was benched from work by the others. He thought he could finally mourn, with his frustration off his chest, but that didn’t happen. He was barely even sleeping, moving around like a zombie.

“You finally caved.” Jin said as Namjoon walked into the dining room.

“He needs to sleep. Plus, what I gave him was very mild.” Namjoon replied, sitting down in his seat.

“Don’t shoulder it all on your own, Namjoon ah. Things will work out, don’t worry. We should all be focusing on our work to continue holding up the fort.” Jin said. Namjoon nodded in agreement.

“Morning. Just coffee. I’ve got to go.” Hoseok walked in, all dressed up. While waiting for the butler, he sat down with his two brothers.

“I’ve got a meeting with all our shipment partners today. My boys will be patrolling the docks and moving in the new shipments. Also, Namjoon, I’ll be doing inventory for the warehouse so tell your boys to not retrieve anything today.” Hoseok informed. Namjoon nodded his head and took his phone out to send the message to his lab team.

Their work and experiments needed a constant supply of chemicals, which were brought in and stored at some of Hoseok’s warehouses. Maybe Namjoon could give his team the day off.

“Taehyung said the governor wants to see me. So let’s keep things to a minimum for now, it’ll be annoying to have to handle any attempt at blackmail from him. I’ll let the rest know later.” Namjoon said.

“Yeah. I’ll let my boys know.” Hoseok bid the two goodbye and left.

“Well, I’m going back to work. I should be done with your files by noon.” Jin stood up and stretched his arms. He retreated out of the room.

“Good morning, Jungkookie.” Jin greeted as he passed the youngest on the way to his room. The boy yawned, giving a sleepy wave before going down to the dining room, in search of food.

“Namjoon hyung, I finished Jimin hyung’s list last night.” Jungkook said, yawning midway.

“Thanks for taking over, Kook. Take a break for the next few days. I was telling Hoseok to keep things to a minimum too. The governor wants to meet and I don’t need him having anything on us.” Namjoon informed.

“Yes, hyung. I’ll just work the shop.” Jungkook nodded. He had no issue taking over Jimin’s hit list, the extra work wasn’t that taxing on him. But now that Namjoon needed them to laylow, he could use the time to catch up on working on his cars and bikes.

When Namjoon finished his breakfast, he went up to his office. He knew that Yoongi went to see you last night and judging by how he stayed out the whole night, Namjoon guessed he was able to talk to you.

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

398 notes · View notes

written-in-flowers · 2 years

Text

His Wilted Flowers: Yoongi x Reader

Pairing: Fuckboi!Yoongi x female reader

Genre: Smut, mild angst/ Au: Fuckboy (idk if you’d consider that an au)

Word Count: 11k

Summary: Yoongi likes being first, specifically a woman’s first. When you come along, he sees he’s hit the jackpot.

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect of label the member of BTS in any way. The events within never took place.

Tags: fuckboi!yoongi (like a real one, not the nice kind), virgin!reader, cheating, public sex, car sex, teasing, handjobs, oral (f. and m. receiving and giving), face sitting, gentle sex, first time sex, virgin sex, really toxic ‘guy talk’, fuckboy!bts, some manipulation (on both parts, you're no angel either), gaslighting (light),

AN: Yoongi is a huge dick in this. He will hurt the reader's feelings. There is no karma or comeuppance because men irl don't get that. That's the point of the series. If you're sensitive to toxic experiences, then I'd stay away.

a/n 2: This is just the first in a series I want to do, and it’s the first time I’ve written het in a long time. I’d really like some feedback on this one, to see if you guys want more of this. thanks, love ya!

Series: Namjoon

****

For as long as he could remember, Yoongi always liked being first. As a child, he liked being first place at spelling bees and science fairs. He’d win awards for being top in his classes or winning music competitions. He loved the feeling of being praised. He loved being the first to do anything. When he grew up, he liked being the first person to win his accounting firm a large contract. He enjoyed hearing from his superiors he’d been the first intern to charm a fussy old lady they’d been trying to lure in for years. Yoongi did anything he could to be the first. But, there was something he loved more than that.

Being a woman’s first lover.

He supposed he’d started liking virgins after his 10th grade girlfriend, Irene, admitted she’d never had sex before. She said her parents didn’t like her having a boyfriend because it distracted her from her studies. Yoongi’s parents were the same. He supposed their ‘forbidden’ love made her see it as special. They’d go to each other’s houses when their parents were gone, and pretend to be studying. Except, they never did. Yoongi looked back fondly several years later, remembering her soft body under his hands and her shy glances away whenever he touched her. He’d gotten a thrill from hearing her say she’d never done it before; that she might not know what to do back to him. He guided her. He showed her what he liked, and enjoyed every second of her timidness. His mouth watered remembering her sex, untouched and unspoiled by other boys. He’ll admit he didn’t understand women’s bodies back then, so sixteen-year-old Yoongi didn’t realize her whimpers weren’t from pleasure, but pain. They did it several more times afterwards until her parents caught them in bed together. This discovery led to their inevitable breakup.

But, he never forgot that feeling. The idea of a woman trusting him enough to give away her most precious piece turned him on. He might not be their best. They might find another man who made them feel even better than he did; a man who doesn’t hit it and quit. But, they’d always remember him. Whenever a curious mind asks who their first sexual partner was, they’ll say ‘this guy I knew named Yoongi’. He didn’t necessarily care what story followed. He only cared about that first sentence. It excited him even more knowing he shaped them and their future pleasures. They’ll always subconsciously compare their current lover to him, whether good or bad. He’d gotten to understand the female body better, and learned the best ways to loosen that tight cavern between their legs. He might enjoy stealing their virginity, but he hated the thought of hurting it or giving his ‘flowers’ any discomfort. Their pleasure meant something to him, unlike some other men he knew.

“-If she doesn’t get off too, that’s her fucking problem,” Hoseok scoffed. “Why am I always expected to get her ‘there’?”

“Because it’s only fair,” Yoongi replied from across the counter. “They’re getting us off without doing much. Their bodies are a little more…complex.”

Hoseok snorted, dumping a bag of chips into a bowl, “You’d know all about complexity, huh?”

He did. “I suppose I do.”

“Must suck for you,” he said, taking out a dip from the fridge while Yoongi sipped from his beer can. “Virgins nowadays are like unicorns. You’re never going to find a woman that’s never had a dick before.”

Yoongi hated to admit Hoseok was right. He never judged a woman for practicing casual sex or not being a vaginal virgin, but he still had his preferences. Yoongi was more than happy to take the back end should his partner consent to that instead. Of course, he knew this didn’t bring much pleasure for the woman, so he’d find other ways. He might finger them while he did it or use a toy they liked. He wanted his flowers to feel good when he was inside them. Being the first man to make them orgasm felt special. It made him special. But, despite his views and acceptance, a twinge of disappointment often followed when a woman told him she was experienced. Complete virgins were his ultimate turn-on. Most men like virgins, but Yoongi craved them. He wanted nothing else.

He continued watching Hoseok set up for the get-together. Once a week, Yoongi and his friends met at someone’s house and hung out. They’d chat, joke around, play video games or watch movies together. Yoongi did not socialize much outside of his job, so these meetings with his old friends became a highlight for him. Putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave, Yoongi knew the subject of his newest exploit would come up. He’d told them all over a group chat text. He couldn’t keep his cheeks from reddening as it came back to him.

“You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?” Hoseok teased, dumping some fresh guacamole into a bowl for the tortilla chips.

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I don’t blame you,” he said. He sampled the dip with a crisp crunch, nodded his approval, then he continued, “I would be too if I got a piece of her.”

‘Her’. Hoseok meant you when he said it, and that word alone brought you back to him. “She’s special,” Yoongi grinned. “It’s been forever since I had one like that.”

He’d met your sister through his work. She represented her client, a retired millionaire looking to invest, and he represented his company, who wanted the account. Your sister truly was a beautiful woman; intelligent and witty as well. It began when the both of them went out from drinks after a meeting, to further discuss things off book. Then, they started getting to know one another outside work and becoming friendly. Finally, he mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date, which she agreed to happily. He liked your sister, he really did. It’d been a while since he’d exclusively dated somebody, and your sister carried this innocence and purity about her that attracted him. She’d smiled bashfully when he suggested she come back to his place after their third date, and he thought he’d hit the jackpot. He thought about tenderly taking her virginity in his bedroom, her shirt open to show her chest and her soft sighs of pleasure. He knew their relationship won’t last past the contract meetings, but he knew he’d get her card eventually.

Then, she revealed to him she wasn’t a virgin, and his interest decreased slightly. He didn’t dare insult or argue with her. Although, she suspected she’d disappointed him. He still slept with her that night, but it took him longer to climax. He tried imagining she’d never said it, and he was her first. Yet, his thoughts kept slipping to who her first had been. Were they better than him? Did she think about them even now? He’d let her stay over, and she left the next morning. The second time they did it was after a company dinner between his bosses and hers, but this time they took it to her apartment instead.

“What was she like?” Hoseok asked eagerly.

“Sweet,” he smiled, taking the bag out once the microwave sounded, and took out a big bowl. “So sweet.”

He’d woken up the following morning to your sister sleeping soundlessly. He figured he should go. Too tired to think of an excuse, Yoongi slipped silently into his clothes and tiptoed into the bathroom to wash up. When he came back out, he heard someone moving around in her kitchen. He thought it might’ve been her, and he winced realizing he'd need to explain himself. Yet, low and behold, he found a flower standing in the kitchen.

“Oh, morning!”

He thought God answered his lustful prayers. You sat at the island counter, scooping scrambled eggs into your mouth, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and shorts. He knew simply by looking at you. He could smell your innocence like a bloodhound on a trail. Women with experience kept a certain smug confidence about them. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it threw him off personally. You, however, suddenly turned awkward at the appearance of a man in a wrinkled collared shirt and black pants sneaking out of your sister's apartment.. He knew the situation might make anyone uncomfortable, but something about your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

“Sorry,” he’d said. “I didn’t know Sarah had a roommate.”

“No, I’m not her roommate,” you explained. “I’m her sister. Y/N.” You stuck out your hand from across the counter, and he shook it. Your hands felt soft against his rough ones. A split-second thought of bringing you closer, and feeling up your shirt came to him.

“Yoongi,” he introduced himself before letting go. He focused on your face, taking in the features and innocent eyes. Yes, a real flower. “Sarah never mentioned she had a sister," He said, unable to take his eyes off you.

“And she never mentioned having a guy staying at her place,” she replied with a smirk. “I’m only here for a little while. I’m going to be going to university here in the fall, and Sarah is letting me crash until I can move into a dorm.”

A college girl. If things didn't work out between you two, he can always slide your number to Namjoon. "What school?" He took a seat at the counter across from you. He knew he should leave while Sarah slept, but he couldn't miss the opportunity.

"Columbus."

A door opening broke him from his memories. A slender woman with thick, black curly hair came walking out of Hoseok's bedroom. She wore a skintight white dress with heels, golden jewelry around her neck and hanging from her ears. Becky, Hoseok's girlfriend, typically went on a girl's night out when Hoseok invited the group over.

"What do you think?" She asked them, doing a twirl for them.

"You look great, babe," Hoseok said first, Yoongi nodding in agreement. "You're gonna be the finest woman there," he kissed her when she walked up to him.

"Thank you. I know,” she kissed him again, and said, “I might not come home tonight.”

“That’s okay with me,” he shrugged, pushing a stray hair from her face. “As long as you come home tomorrow morning, and don’t leave me for some douchebag with a crooked hairline, I’m fine.”

“You’re still on that?” she giggled, punching his arm as he laughed. “That guy wasn’t anything special. None of them are.”

He slipped his arms around her, “Not special like me?”

“As long as you don’t think any of your bitches are special like me,” she said, “Then we’re good, baby.”

“Very good.” Yoongi sighed annoyed as the couple shared a deep kiss. When they pulled away, Hoseok’s phone buzzed again. Becky saw his irritated face, and picked up the phone. She unlocked it for the message, “This is the girl you were fucking?” she asked, unimpressed.

“And I’m wishing I hadn’t,” Hoseok replied, head on her shoulder as he moved around her. “She’s been blowing up my phone all day.”

“She was in my DMs too,” she said, reading the messages.

“Really?” Yoongi heard himself ask.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I don’t know why you’re not honest with them about your situation, baby. It’d save us both a shit ton of stress if you told them the truth. There’s women out there who wouldn’t mind dating a guy in an open relationship.”

“No, there aren’t.”

“There are. It’s only that the girls you go after are stupid. Yoongi,” she looked at him, “You will not believe the amount of women I get in my DMs telling me about him. They send me screenshots, and tell me stupid little stories like I’m gonna fight them or leave him or whatever they think I’m gonna do. This newest one was there too, acting like she was exposing him or something.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her the truth, unlike some people,” she shot a glare at the man on her shoulder. “She was super surprised. She was like ‘oh my god, I can’t believe that. How could you two do stuff like that? You guys aren’t in a real relationship then. Why don’t you end it?’ You know, thinking she’s doing something by telling me off when she’s the idiot who fucked a walking red flag.”

“I’m not a red flag…”

“Anyways,” she tapped around on the phone and then put it down, “I solved your problem for you, as usual.”

“What?” she slipped out of Hoseok’s arms for her purse as he looked at his phone. “How?”

Becky, picking up her purse, tossed her long hair over her shoulder and said, “I blocked her, duh.”

“Ah…right…”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be home, so,” she smiled, giving him one more kiss, “You boys behave, okay?”

“Have fun,” Hoseok said distractedly, still looking at his phone. “Why didn’t I think to block her?”

“Because you love the drama, Papi,” she said, then headed for the door. “Have a good night, you two.”

“Night.”

Becky walked out and the room went silent again. A minute after the door shut, Yoongi asked, "That doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Her, you know, having sex with other guys?”

“No, why should it? We're in an open relationship."

"Which is code for cheating-without-consequences."

"Hey, I love Becky,” he affirmed, putting his phone down on the counter. “She means the world to me. She understands and respects me. We vibe really well together, have the same interests, and we…we click," he said, "And she feels the same about me. The fact that we like sampling other meals from time to time isn’t a big deal to either of us, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"It's not like I feel anything for these bitches. I'm just having fun. It's not my fault you fuck one of them and they expect a fucking marriage proposal." He took a sip from his beer, “Becky and I have our boundaries and rules, and I respect them. I don’t bring them here to our apartment. I don’t tell them I love them. I don’t keep anything that’s theirs and I stop talking to them when I’ve hit it. She does the same thing.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because, we might not trust too many people, but we trust each other. I mean, besides you and the guys, the only other person I trust is Becky.”

Yoongi never understood Hoseok's and Backy's relationship. He personally prefered monogamous relationships. He didn't like sharing. He certainly would've never shared you. After your initial meeting, he decided he'd keep seeing your sister. She wasn't completely terrible, and getting glimpses of you definitely kept him coming back after every date. He learned everything he could about you: your college major, your favorite shows and movies, the newest book you'd been reading, your grievances with friends or family, and your anxieties about college.

"I'm new to the area, so I won't have many friends when I get there," you told him one morning while he made you breakfast. He'd made a point to wake up before Sarah, and keep his voice low to not wake her. "I know I sound like a little kid, but what if I end up hating it there? Then my parents wasted their money."

"Everyone has trouble making friends at first," he assured you, sliding eggs onto your plate and watching you eat them. His eyes found your lips, chewing your food, and he imagined what they'd look like around his dick. "I felt that way when I changed firms, but after a few company outings, I've managed to make a friend or two." He'd partially lied. He didn't particularly like any of his coworkers, but played friendly to be on good terms with them. "There will be college fairs and events where you can mingle with other people." He sat in front of you with his own eggs. "So, don't worry too much about it. As for hating it, well, it's school. I don't think it's designed for many people to like it."

"I guess," you sighed. "I know it's not going to be like in the movies, but I hope it's not bad."

"Just be careful at those frat or sorority parties," he warned, thinking of Namjoon looming around you, "I heard fucked up stuff happens at those things."

You giggled, "Oh no, I'm not a big party person."

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated. He'd never meant to say it out loud. "I mean, um," he stammered, "I mean that I've grown to kind of like you. You're my girlfriend's little sister, and I know we'd both be concerned if something bad happened to you at a party."

"Aw, Yoongi," you smiled, "That's so sweet."

A knock at the door drew him out of his thoughts once again. Hoseok put down his can to open the door, and he cheered. "Namjoon!"

Namjoon, long black hair under a maroon beanie and clothes hanging from his wide frame, stood a bit taller than the other two. His workout regimen showed off the muscles and broadness he liked showing off at parties or the gym. Yoongi imagined women drooling over his chest, arms, and abs when he removed his shirt. Namjoon built himself to attract his type like Yoongi and Hoseok both had. He admitted it was a good tactic: Be the type of guy your girls want.

He and Hoseok clasped hands and hugged before walking into the kitchen area. Yoongi greeted him the same way, and took the beer case from him to put on the counter. He began stocking them in Hosek's fridge while he listened to their small talk.

"How's the tutoring job going, Joonie?" Hoseok asked, digging into the chip bowl.

"Going good," he answered. "Thankfully, the center's getting some much needed funding from the college, so more students might take advantage of it. If not that, at least the space. I swear, these kids know the tutoring/library/study center place is there, and they're all still like 'huh, how am I gonna focus on this test?' ``How am I gonna get help for this subject I royally suck at?'" he shook his head and ate a chip, "If I didn't go to the bars on the college strip, I wouldn't get half as much pussy as I do now."

Yoongi then noticed a small purple mark on the base of Namjoon's neck, and smirked teasingly. "What's that on your neck, Namjoonie? One of yours gave you a little present to remember her?"

"She did more than that to help me remember her," he heard the cockiness in Namjoon's tone. "You should've seen her. You would've wanted a piece of her too."

Yoongi finished putting the cans away, and looked back at them. Namjoon had begun munching on the chips and dip while Hoseok picked at the popcorn next. "Twenty-three, blonde, and with the nicest tits you've ever seen," Namjoon grinned. "A nursing major, but then again, they all are." He looked over at Yoongi, "But enough about my night. I heard you bagged your girlfriend's sister?"

He hated how they put it. "I didn't 'bag' her," he said, taking a seat on his stool.

"Nah, you just stole her V-card from under her sister's nose," he snickered. "How'd you do it? You wrote in the chat that she was a virgin."

"Nah, she'd done oral stuff, but nobody ever hit a home run with her."

"Damn, you must've been jumping for joy afterwards. I know I would’ve been."

He had. Afternoon's events came clearer to him than any other memory. Him and Sarah had been dating for a few weeks before the opportunity came to him last night.

"Hey, um, Yoongi. I'm sorry to bug you like this," you'd said the night before when he'd come over for dinner, "But, are you by chance busy tomorrow morning?"

In fact, he was. He'd planned a meeting with the heir to a fast food chain fortune in hopes of securing their contract. If Yoongi scored the contract, he'd make the firm millions of dollars. However, seeing your innocent eyes looking at him nervously, he decided he'd reschedule right away.

"Actually, no, I'm not," he fibbed. "Why? What's up?"

"My college orientation is tomorrow morning," you explained, "And Sarah just told me she's not going to be able to take me. I know it sounds silly, but I don't really want to go by myself. Would you, um...Would you come with me?"

The question sounded so sweet. You truly thought he'd reject an offer from the woman standing in nothing but shorts, a sleep shirt, and knee high socks. He'd finished washing the last dish, wiping his hands on a hand towel as he said, "Yeah, of course. I don't mind. What time should I be here?"

Your eyes lit up, "Really?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "I wouldn't want you to go somewhere you don't know alone. I don't mind driving you there."

A whole morning with you sounded too good to be true. Thankfully, the both of you made plans before Sarah came back into the room still in her dinner outfit. You happily explained to her that Yoongi agreed to take you to the orientation, so she had nothing to worry about. Sarah's expression towards him dampened his spirits. When you'd gone to bed, she rounded on him in the kitchen.

"You want to fuck her, don't you?" she asked accusingly.

"What? No! She's your sister. I'm only being nice by taking her there."

"Don't bullshit me, Yoongi. I see how you look at her sometimes, and how nice you always are to her. My sister's a virgin, and I remember how pouty you got when I told you I wasn't."

So, he'd been right the entire time. This stirred excitement inside him, but he hid it well from Sarah. He gave a laugh to cover up his fear. He supposed he should've limited his leering and friendliness to low levels, but he couldn't help it. You ignited a flame inside him every time you came near. He tried his best to pass the arousal you brought on to your sister, whose t-shirt clung to her a bit too tightly and her skirt hung at her thighs. Yoongi finally went over to her, putting his hands on her hips.

"Baby," he said in a low voice, "Why would I want your baby sister when I have you right here, huh?" When she did not push him off, he embraced her, "You're the only one who gets me hard...like this," he pressed his bulge to her and she gasped softly. You probably sounded sweeter. You'd be giggling and blushing at the attention, but not resisting either. "She's your family. I want her to like me, so then when I finally meet your parents-" women loved it when a man hinted at a future, "-they'll see that she likes me, and won't think I'm a bad guy."

"You're not a bad guy," she gave in, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Sorry, you're right. I'm being dumb."

"No, you're not. You're being the protective older sister. I know I'd be the same way if I had a sister like Y/N. Come on," he picked up the wine bottle nearby, "Let's take this to your room, huh? I've been dying for a moment alone with you."

Sarah and him walked back into her bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment. Yoongi pictured you in her place the entire time. When she stripped off her clothes for him, he thought of you in white lingerie with a wet spot between your legs. When she slid him into her mouth, he bet his entire family fortune that yours was better. Your virginal body would be a million times more enjoyable than your sister, who had hers taken already. He'd fuck you tomorrow, he vowed as he penetrated Sarah. He'd take your sweet virginity and tote it around forever. He loved being first, after all.

"When are the others getting here?" Namjoon asked, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it.

"Taehyung said he'd be running late-" Yoongi said,

"-Always fashionably late-" Namjoon joked.

"-Jimin said he’s waiting for his relief from work to come, and Jungkook and Jin said they're on their way. Jungkook said he's bringing that new first-person shooter game you guys were talking about."

"Mercenaries of War 2," Hoseok grinned. "I've been dying to play it, but it's sold out everywhere I go. Not even my guy at the game shop says he can score me one."

"One of my tutoring students says it's not as good as the original," added Namjoon. "He says they don't have the same game mechanics."

Yoongi tuned out this talk of video games, and his mind floated back to that morning.

He normally started off his mornings groggy, hungry and eager for coffee. But, that morning, he felt wide awake. He'd nearly jumped out of Sarah's bed, washed up in her shower, and prepared himself for a day out with you. He thought of ways to keep you next to him. Maybe get lunch at the university café? Check out the library? Fuck underneath a tree where people could watch him take your most precious gift? He shook away the last part and went to the kitchen to fix breakfast for both of you. He'd been searching for cereal when he heard your door open. Rather than be in your pajamas, you'd changed into your outfit for the day. His jaw dropped. A powder blue sweater showed off the bit of chest he'd kill someone to see, and your jeans shaped nicely around your hips and waist. A modest girl in her modest clothes. Yoongi's dream girl come to life.

'What do you think?" you asked, giving a twirl to show it off. Yoongi's eyes traveled to your bottom, which he pictured hanging out of white lingerie again as he slid inside you.

"You look nice," he said finally, pulling out a cereal box. "Sorry, I wanted to make you something filling, but you guys don't have breakfast stuff."

"Crap, yeah," you cursed, getting a mug of coffee first nearby. He continued eyeing you closely over his own coffee. He could normally hold back his lustful urges, but you didn't make it easy for him. "It's my turn to get groceries and I haven't had the time lately with all the stuff I've been doing."

"That's fine. We can go after the orientation and stuff, if you want," Yoongi suggested. "I was thinking of us getting some lunch anyways, so we can just get good there and bring it back here." Sarah worked in the office today, so the apartment will be empty most of the day. He knew she was busy putting together a presentation for a client, and big projects kept her there late. "If you want to, that is."

"That'd be great," you said, "If you can. I don't want to take up your whole day."

"You won't be, don't worry."

You both chatted over breakfast, and Yoongi made it a point to leave before Sarah woke up. If they'd already left, she couldn't stop them from going or offer to come along. During the car ride, he took a stab at more personal things. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Has your sister...Has she talked about me to you?"

"Why?"

"Because, I don't know. This might just be me, but your sister seems kinda stressed out lately? She snapped at me last night after you went to bed, and I...Is she mad at me about something?"

“She's not mad at you, but yeah, she's stressed out," you said. "She's got a lot going on at work, and my parents aren't really helping. They don't like that I'm going to move into the dorms at school."

"Why not?"

"They think I'll become 'wild' and won't focus on my studies," you rolled your eyes. "I don't know if Sarah's ever mentioned it, but my parents can be real overprotective, helicopter parents at times. They've sheltered Sarah and me our entire lives. We couldn't go to friends' houses without them knowing every single detail. They constantly nosed around in our private stuff, kept track of us on our phones, picked us up and dropped us off even when we got our own cars...Ugh, it was a nightmare. I'm so glad to be out of there, but now they've been harassing Sarah about me staying with her rather than live on my own."

"They think you're incapable of living alone?"

"Yes, but I'm not. I can do things on my own."

"Except go to college orientations and grocery shops," he teased as they arrived at the college campus.

"Hey," you giggled, hitting his arm lightly, "This is different. I've never been here before, and I don't want to get lost."

"Or, it's a good excuse to get away from your sister for a while..." he almost added 'and get a chance to ride my cock', but refrained strongly. "I notice she hovers over you a lot too."

"Yeah, it's kind of annoying, but not as bad as my parents. At least she lets me close my door. My dad took mine off the hinges at home."

"Damn, that's rough. I thought my parents were bad."

You both continued talking about the pains of overbearing parents as you walked to the college entrance. He stayed at your side the entire time. Through the sign-in process, finding seats in the auditorium, and looking through pamphlets together, Yoongi made sure you remained comfortable the entire time. He didn't need your nerves or anxiety getting in the way of his one shot at your virginity. When the orientation began, the lights dimmed and he forced himself to pay attention. His eyes occasionally glanced to your knees, and the jean skirt sitting above them. The thought of reaching over to lift the hem and rub your soft sex tempted him. He almost envisioned himself doing it. He shut his eyes thinking of your velvety folds against his fingers, your thin underwear keeping his skin from yours. He imagined finding the little nub of your clit as you grew wetter; he heard your whimpers and whines that you'd try concealing in the crowded room. Then, he'd push the fabric aside and slide his finger-

"Yoongi," you nudged him, giggling quietly. He panicked, worried his boner showed, but it hadn't. "Don't fall asleep so quickly."

Not sleeping. The screen is too bright."

"Sure," you grinned, disbelieving. He couldn't help noticing your sly smile. "Maybe," you whispered, "I can help you, um...stay awake?"

“Huh? What?"

Heat flared up around his neck and cheeks. He foolishly thought you meant a cute game or conversation. But, that thought wiped out when a warm hand touched his inner thigh. He looked over to you, and saw the devilish smile on your lips. He wanted you right there. Your hand gripped his inner thigh gently as if asking for permission. He nodded, and you looked straight ahead. Your hand moved further up his thigh to his crotch, where you languidly traced circles over his fly. He glanced around to see the people in the back watching the presentation continue. Nobody appeared to notice them, and if they did, he didn't see anyone. All the words coming through the speaks suddenly turned into white noise in his ears. He couldn't believe this was happening. Your sister claimed you were a virgin, and virgins did not do things like this. Still, he did not reject it. He rested back in his chair, and sunk into the pleasure your palm gave him. You began sliding your hand over the hardon starting to press against his zipper. He took in the feeling of your fingertips rubbing over his tip carefully. He bit back a moan as that hand cupped his crotch and gave a gentle squeeze. You knew what you were doing, and he wasn't sure if that turned him off or on.

"Like this," he whispered.

He put his hand over yours and slid it back over his cock. You let him guide your hand over his jeans, sometimes letting your fingertips rub circles or dip underneath it. By the time he unzipped his jeans, his cock stood erect and red against his black jeans. You gazed over at hid erection, and you stared for a while. He wrapped your hand gently around his shaft, then let you stroke him. Your cold, soft hand slid up and down his smooth length lightly; your thumb swiped over the head, where he instructed your fingers to brush against the wrinkles underneath it. You seemed to have some idea of what to do, having gained some sort of courage, but might have not done this before. When theme music played in the speakers, he choked out a soft moan. You'd squeezed his tip like he urged you to, and a bead of precum came out. He wiped it up with his finger, and put it to your lips. Nobody saw your sweet lips go around his wet finger, and lick up the precum.

"How does that taste?" he asked you in your ear.

"I like it."

"You've done this before?" he huffed when you performed the action again, starting to grip him tighter. "Stroked a cock in public?"

"N-No," you shook your head. "But, I've always wanted to try it."

He pushed his hips into your hand, the clear fluid making it easier. You took this to mean he wanted you to go faster, so you did, and he thought he might burst right there in his seat. He longed to pull down your top and bra. He wished he could see your breasts, and lick at your nipples while you jerked him off. Yes. Yes, he'd fuck you today. He helped you along by guiding your hand again, picturing your pussy in its place.

"Do you...Do you like it?" you asked shyly.

"Yes," he breathed. "Just keep going like that. Just keep...oh fuck..."

He came sooner than he intended, but thankfully did not squirt anywhere. You continued pumping him until he told you to stop. He reached for the tissues he kept in his back pocket, but you were ahead of him. You went into your purse, pulled out a tissue packet, and took one to wipe your hand. You handed him one, and he cleaned himself as much as he could in the dark. By the lights came on, he'd zipped up and looked unassuming. Your actions surprised him. He never suspected you'd be the type to do that. Despite having orgasmed seconds before, his body yearned to have you again. You personally acted like nothing transpired at orientation. You talked to him about the presentation, and how interesting the school's programs looked. You both walked around the school's club fair, where the different organizations promoted themselves for people to join. He watched you talk to a music group, and his eyes gazed down your body. He knew now why you'd worn that skirt and that top. He felt stupid for not recognizing the signs. No woman spends so much alone time with her sister's boyfriend unless she wants a taste too. Her being a virgin only made him want her more. Even if Sarah turned out to be wrong, he'd still enjoy your sweet body today. “Hello, hello!”

A chorus of greetings came when Hoseok opened the door a second time. This time two men walked into the apartment. Jin, dressed in a white shirt and sweatpants, walked in ahead of Jungkook, a younger man wearing black sweater and pants. Yoongi said his usual greeting to both men before they grabbed beers from the fridge. He shook off the memories playing his mind, and tried focusing on his friends. He noticed the backpack Jungkook put down on the dining table nearby. He, Hoseok and Namjoon crowded around it.

“Yoongi,” Jin called his attention, popping open his beer can, “I heard the news. Congratulations.”

They made it sound like he’d won a gold medal. Considering how he felt, he might as well have. “Thanks?” he said uncertainty.

“What? It’s not everyday a guy finds a unicorn,” he chuckled, patting Yoongi’s back. “What was she like? I need details.”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell, Jin.”

“That’s what these meetings are all about!” he exclaimed, “Kissing bitches and then telling. I could tell you about mine, if you want.”

“Ah, so you’ve broken the anime girl already?” Namjoon and the others came back to the island counter. Jungkook gave him a friendly pat on the back as he reached for the chip bowl. ‘That was fast.”

“I haven’t completely,” Jin admitted in a defeated sigh, “She’s a bit harder to crack than the others. She watches all those motivational feminist woke tiktok girls, and it’s really interfering with my system.”

Yoongi remembered Jin’s ‘system’. Kim Seokjin was a man of peculiar tastes, and he liked breaking his girlfriends until they completely submitted to him. Yoongi knew he particularly liked watching his marks sleep with other guys in front of him; it’s not something many women agree to right off the bat. The group told him he can always pay women to do that, but Jin claimed it wasn’t as fun. Yoongi listened as Jin began his story, but his mind floated back to you.

"Grocery time?" you asked on the way back to the car. It amazed him how you ignored the elephant in the room. Perhaps the overprotective parents and sister helped you hone your acting skills. "I'm not a hundred-percent sure what we need, but we can figure it out at the moment."

Getting into the car, he said, "Sure. I don't see why not." He started up the engine, and you both took off. "What do you think of your new college?"

"It seems nice," he noticed your voice drop an octave, "What did you think of my handjob?"

He gulped. At the light, he spotted you eyeing him flirtatiously. He saw the way your arms slightly pushed your breasts together, and your skirt went up a few inches. He swallowed thickly and said, "I loved it...but, personally," he slowly reached a hand over the stick, "I'm starting to think my girlfriend's little sister planned for us to be alone today."

You laughed, "I might have."

"I thought you loved your sister."

"I do, but," you took his hand to put on your chest as he drove, "I hear you two at night whenever you stay over, and I can't help being a little jealous of her."

"Is that so?" he gave your tit a squeeze, sighing softly at the feeling of it against his palm. "I didn't realize we were that loud."

You leaned over into his ear, "You're not." He shuddered when your tongue licked at his ear lobe, "I sneak over to put my ear to the door." You went back into your seat, and sat there as he groped your breast. Yoongi tried focusing on the road, but his mind kept going back to you. "I listen to how you make her cum over and over...and how you sound when you cum." The naughty words falling from your lips made him fumble to pull down your top. "She says you like virgins."

"I, um, uh, well...Um..."

"I've never been fucked before," you said quietly. He saw you pull down your shirt to show your bra. Your white lace bra. "I've given head and been licked before, but nobody's had my pussy."

"Jesus, Y/N." He groaned when you tugged your bra underneath your tits, and he grabbed one right away. Your nipple hardened on his palm, which caused him to graze over it. Your soft sigh made him bite his lower lip. "And you want me to fuck you, is that it?"

"Please..." you whimpered. "I hear her tell her friends how good your tongue is, and now that I've seen your cock," she pushed her chest into his hand, "I want you to fuck me."

They reached another light when he left your bosom for your skirt. He thought you'd lowered your chair to give him more access, but it'd been to help you lift your skirt. You wore thin cotton panties the color of light lavender. He caught a quick glance at a dark spot between your thighs before being forced to drive again. It wouldn't be long before you two were back at the apartment. where he can enjoy you properly. He reached around your hips until he found your skirt, then began moving straight down. Your light whimper told him he'd struck gold. His mouth fell open when he felt pure slickness against his fingers. He moved his fingers up and down as your lips parted for them. In slow circles, they searched for the sensitive spot that would make you moan. Forcing himself to keep driving, you helped him by taking his wrist. He let you use his fingers like a toy, grinding them against your pussy until he sensed he'd found your clit. He wiggled his middle finger over it to your delight, making you squeal when he did it.

"Is that okay?" he asked, knowing full well it was. "Do you want me to go further right now?"

"No, no," you breathed, "Keep teasing me, please."

Since you'd asked so sweetly, he continued rubbing your slit as he drove back to the apartment. Your moans and panting filled the car's space, like a perfect melody to his ears. He did not even push your panties aside. He stayed over them with your hand pushing his fingers towards your entrance. Your sweet, virginal, hot, wet entrance he couldn't wait to stretch and fill. Fuck whatever happened afterwards. Yoongi planned on ending this outing with you clenching and shuddering from your first real orgasm. By the time you reached the apartment building, he felt his hardon coming back. You fixed yourself up again, and both of you coolly walked out of the car and into the building.

“-I told her that it’d mean a lot to me if she did this one thing for me,” Jin said, finishing up his story, “But, she said she’d ‘think about it’. They always want to ‘think about it’. I don’t get it,” he said, picking from the popcorn bowl, “Why do they always tighten up when we mention doing kinky stuff? It’s not like they don’t read all those reverse harem erotic books or write all that smutty fanfiction about anime characters.”

“Because society tells them they’re not supposed to be sexual unless it’s for us,” Namjoon noted, taking a gulp of his beer. “I personally like it when women bring up kinky stuff first. It lets me know I have options.”

“Not to mention, it’s not like you’re asking her for simple things either, Jin,” Hoseok added. “You’re asking her to fuck another dude in front of you. Not every girl is into stuff like that. You shouldn’t push her boundaries like that.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who lies about himself,” Jin emphasized the last words. “What does this new girl think your name is? John? Jacob? Kyle? Did you tell her you’re an entrepreneur in the skincare industry or that you’re a music producer and you’re currently working with whatshisname on his new album?”

“Yeah, but that’s different from making girls do things they’re not comfortable doing.”

“I don’t push their boundaries. I find the things they already like, and propose they do it and then some,” he defended. “If they say it’s a hard ‘no’, I accept that. If it’s something they’re willing to give a shot, then even better for me.”

“It’s still giving very much ‘grooming’ to me,” said Hoseok before dipping a chip into the guacamole.

“Well, you’re not the one I’m fucking, so who cares?”

“You guys need to get on my level,” Jungkook pitched in, eating from the popcorn bowl. “Older women? Man, no problems with them. Nothing’s sexier than a strong, intelligent woman who knows what she wants.”

“Also a woman who’s like forty.”

“She’s only forty-two. That’s not that old.”

“Does Stephanie know you’re banging her step mom?” Namjoon asked curiously, “Or are you waiting for her to walk in and somehow, someway agree to a threesome with the both of you?”

“Isn’t that like, incest, though?” asked Hoseok, disgust on his face.

“No, because she’s not Steph’s real mom,” Jungkook confirmed. “And no, Steph doesn’t know…But how fucking sick would that be, right?” he broke into an excited laugh. “It’d be like a dream come true.”

The group went on to discuss stepmother porn films, but Yoongi couldn’t engage much. He wondered what you were up to right then. Have you gotten over him? Did you and Sarah make up? He hoped so. You and him might’ve not had a chance, but he’d hate for you to lose your sister.

The second the elevator doors closed, his body slammed into yours. He grabbed both your breasts, pressing you into the wall, and kissing you deeply. Your tongue slid easily over his own, your moans entering his mouth. He kissed further down your jaw to your neck, then the tops of your breasts where your cleavage showed. You'd planned for everything, he realized. Right before the elevator reached your floor, he pulled your bra down to just beneath your nipple and licked. Your moan stayed stifled behind your lips, and he continued teasing it until the door opened to your floor. Thankfully, with nobody there, he pulled you out of the elevator and into his arms. The both of you continued kissing all the way to the front door, where you fumbled with your keys. His hands sailed up and down your sides, sliding into your shirt and gripping your chest again. You pushed your ass against his cock, and he growled against your neck. He never wanted a woman so badly. He could almost taste you on his tongue, feel your pussy squeezing his dick until he cummed all over you. Once in the apartment, he kicked the door shut and met your lips again. You both hit a few pieces of furniture walking backwards towards your bedroom. For a moment, against your door, he took the chance to unzip your skirt. By the time you'd opened your door, his hand slid back into your panties.

"What do you want me to do, baby?" he asked, shutting the door and seeing you on the bed.

"Lick my pussy," you said, kicking off your shoes and pulling off your shirt. "I want you to do to me what you did to my sister last night."

"Don't worry," he peeled off his shirt, "I'll fuck you better than I did your sister."

The naughtiness of it all excited you, he could tell. He pushed you further onto the bed, and helped you out of your skirt and panties. He melted once he saw your sex. Glistening, you still had a patch of hair in a strip above it. He didn't mind at all. He knelt down at the edge of the bed, holding your thighs, as he admired your pussy more closely. He rolled his thumb over the wet lips, seeing streams of sticky juices pull apart at being split. You moaned at the gentle digit circling your throbbing pussy, eager for more than mere touching, but not wanting to rush it. This is a special moment for both of you. He did not want it ruined by his keenness to finally have you the way he'd wanted. Using both thumbs, he spread the lips apart and lapped at your clit. Your body shook at the simple motion, and you pushed up to his face. Unlike with your sister, he let you. He put the flat of his tongue against your slit and allowed you to grind into his face. Occasionally, he flicked his tongue at your entrance, which fluttered against his tip.

"Do you want to sit on my face?" he asked, kissing the outer folds of your center. "To make it easier for you?"

"Would you be okay with that? I don't want to suffocate you or anything?"

He chuckled, lapping at your clit a few times, "I won't, baby. I'd love to have you riding my face...and my tongue. If I do," he zigzagged his tongue to make you cry out loudly, "I'll die a very happy man."

"O-Okay," you panted.

He laid down on the bed, peeling off his jeans and boxers in the process, and rested on the pillows. His dick turned entirely stiff again after eating you out, and it rested on his stomach.

"Can I...Um..." you took him in your hand and stroked, causing him to groan, "Be backwards?"

"Of course, baby. Your sister never did that with me."

He added the last words to encourage you, and it worked. You straddled his head in reverse, with your pussy inches from his face. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and urged you closer, going back to kitten licks against you. His hands gripped your ass, inches above him, as you started grinding. He groaned into your pussy, especially when your warm mouth went around him. Having orgasmed before, he knew he'd last until the end. He kept his tongue out as you lowered yourself fully onto his face, your hole sliding at the tip. He continued licking at your clit when he could as your lips massaged his cock. Your own moans made you hum around him, and he nearly forced himself into your throat. He lets you have complete control of the situation. He knew one forceful push or boundary cross, and he'd lose his chance.

"Yoongi," you whined, grinding into his face fully now, stroking him in time with it, "I think I'm going to cum."

He took this as encouragement, and wagged his tongue faster. He kneaded your ass cheeks as he guided you over his tongue. But, right as your movements became more feverish, you stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked when you slid off him. "Was I hurting you?"

"No," you breathed, digging around in your bedside drawer, "I was about to cum and I, um, didn't want to yet."

"I see," he said, idly pumping himself while you found a condom in your drawer. He recognized the brand your sister bought, and knew you'd stolen it. "What position is better for you?" he asked when he straddled him, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Me on top?" you still asked.

"Alright then," he agreed. He took the condom and tore it open. You licked your lips as you watched him roll it on. "You go at whatever pace is best for you, baby," he told you once he'd secured the condom on, "I want you to be comfortable."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "It's your first time." He rubbed your thighs soothingly as you settled above him, "I want it to be special...for both of us."

"Both of us?"

"I've wanted you for a long time, Y/N," he admitted, forcing back the urge to throw you down and shove deep inside. "Your sister...She can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, and I feel like we click better than I do with her. You're so sweet and kind and generous," he said, sitting up to kiss at your breasts, "And beautiful and smart. I feel..." he pressed his tip to your hole, "I feel close to you. It's okay if you don't feel the same." He dragged himself over it, letting your juices coat his head, "But, I wanted you to know that I think...I think I'm in love with you, Y/N."

A lie virgins swallowed all the time. It made the plunge inside easier, if they thought their time was meaningful. With the confession, you impaled yourself on his cock. Having something wider stretching you, your eyes flew open and you gripped his shoulders tightly. Still, he held you close and kissed you. He heard your painful whimpers, and shushed you quietly.

"Is this okay?" he asked, not daring to move unless you did first, "It's not too painful?"

"Not like I thought," you confessed. "Did you really mean that?" you asked, gradually moving up and down on him.

"Of course," he said, kissing you again. Waves of pleasure moved through him to his cock as your sex gripped him. You weren't tremendously tight like some girls he'd screwed before, but you still squeezed him. “I think you’re really special,” he whispered, pecking your lips, “You’ve become really important to me.”

“You too,” you said. “You make me feel good about…about myself. And, you’re not like the other guys.”

His favorite saying: “You’re not like other guys”. “I’m not?” he took your hips and began rocking into you. This made you squeak and he stopped, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry-”

“No, keep going. Please.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, just let me know if I’m going too fast, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

If he hurt you, you’d never want him again. He rested down on his back, and carefully pushed up into you. Your hands above his shoulders, you stayed still as he pushed in and out. He kept his pace slow, reaching down between your bodies where he caressed your clitoris again. He wanted his precious flower to feel good, and he’d do anything to ensure that. Soon enough, you began moving on your own. You moved up and down on him, his thumb still brushing your clit while he stuffed you to the hilt. He shushed you every so often whenever you cried out, and slowed his pace, but otherwise you remained in control. He muttered encouraging words, kissed whatever limbs he could reach and only met your hips when he felt you speeding up. He couldn’t believe it was finally happening. His brain felt dizzy and body numb. He became enthralled by your tightness, wishing he could stay hanging in this moment forever.

“You guys are finally gonna play this or what?” Namjoon asked, holding the case for Mercenaries of War 2 in his hand.

“I was waiting on Tae and Jimin,” Jungkook said, “But, if you guys wanna go ahead and start it up, I’ll join.”

“Sick!”

Hoseok took the game from Namjoon and rushed over to the adjacent living room. Yoongi stayed by the food table, finishing his wine glass beside Namjoon. They watched their friends settle into the white plush furniture of Hoseok’s living room. Namjoon then asked him, “Are you still gonna see her?”

“Who?”

“Your girl. The virgin. Did you dump her or are you gonna pluck your flower a few more times?”

“I planned on keeping her around for a bit,” he said in disappointment, “But sadly, her sister dicked it all up.”

“How?”

“I didn’t plan on her finding out until we’d broken up,” Yoongi admitted to him. “You know, dump her, wait a few weeks while seeing Y/N in secret, and then come out as a couple some time later. It’d lead to some awkwardness and stuff, but it would’ve worked out eventually. But, since she found us in bed together in her apartment, I couldn’t really stick with her after that.”

“Also gets you out of commitment, right?”

“It does. Speaking of-”

A knock at the door cut through the conversation. Hoseok called for the person to open it, and Jimin appeared holding a tupperware container. Petite, short, with black hair tied from his face, he’d clearly come straight from work judging by the plain black t-shirt and glossy shine on his cheekbones. Yoongi immediately looked at Namjoon, who watched Jimin with soft eyes. Out of all of them, Namjoon and Jimin are the only two who like all sexes. Jimin greeted all the men in the living room, asking about the game and putting down his things. When he came to the kitchen, putting down the tupperware.

“I made ramen and canned ham before I came, in case you guys want some,” Jimin said to them, opening the container. He grabbed a few bowls and chopsticks from Hoseok’s drawers. “I heard about you and your girl, Yoongi. You must be happy with yourself.”

“I am very much, thanks.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He only watched Jimin move about the kitchen, and nodded when Jimin offered to give him some food. “Long shift at the club?” Namjoon said, completely ignoring Yoongi now.

“You have no idea,” Jimin sighed, picking up his bowl and slurping noodles. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since like three. It was non-stop, but then again, it’s Saturday so the club’s supposed to be packed. How was the center?”

“Same as usual. How’s your mom?”

Yoongi watched them talk as he served himself ramen. He saw the way Namjoon’s eyes looked over Jimin’s face, and then Jimin doing the same when Namjoon looked away. He sensed it there, and it bothered him. Not his two best friends clearly interested in one another, but the…longing. He only liked one kind of longing, and it was a longing for virgin pussy.

“Fuck me,” you finally whined, rocking on him a bit more eagerly. “Please.”

“How?”

You slid him out of you and laid down, giving him the go-ahead to settle between your legs. You were beautiful. He took a second to admire you from above. He rubbed the tip across your sex, no doubt aching from being breached yet still aroused. “You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, staring at your dripping pussy under him, “So damn beautiful. I could be this way with you for hours.” He looked up at you, “Are you ready?”

“Been ready.”

He laughed softly, followed by a long groan when he went back in. This time, he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t anymore. Putting your ankles on his shoulders, he held you still as his hips slammed into yours. Soft cries of pain eventually faded into pleasure, and he felt comfortable picking up speed. Soon, the sounds of skin on skin coupled with low moans encouraged Yoongi to keep going. Pleasure and desire pumped through his veins and settled inside his lower region, growing from your tight body clenching and unclenching him. His eyes fell shut. He fell forward, gripping the pillows under your head as he fucked you. Properly fucked you now.

“Yoongi…Yoongi, oh god…” you whimpered, clawing at his arms on either side of you. You pushed down onto him, “Oh my god, Yoongi.”

“I’m going to make you cum,” he grunted, keeping the pace and hitting the right spot over and over. “You’re going to have your first real orgasm with me. I’m going to be first. Your first,” he rapidly rubbed his thumb over your clit, watching your breasts bounce from the force he used. “Going…to be…”

He let you go first. He watched you grip the pillows beneath your head as your entire body tensed. The desperation in your eyes exploded as you rode your orgasm against him. You soft mutters of ‘fuck me’ went between you both, your pussy flexed and juices coating his cock, he couldn’t help but go over the edge with you. The heat built up inside the condom, but he wished he filled you inside. The thought of his cum seeping from you once he pulled out made him shudder and twitch inside you. Finally, when you’d both finished, he withdrew and collapsed next to you. He listened to you catching your breath beside him, sweaty and most likely aching. He smiled. He’s the reason you’re aching. He’d gotten what he wanted, and he felt triumphant. After a few minutes, he sat up and slid off the condom to toss in the garbage. He looked at the clock to see it was almost lunch time.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down over you to kiss you, “I didn’t hurt you too much did it?”

“I’ll be okay,” you smiled, kissing him back. “It still felt good.”

“It did. You were amazing.” He held you close, “How about I order some food, and we watch TV together?” His flowers always liked to be pampered after sex. They’d given him such a special thing; it was only fair.

“Sure,” you said with the biggest smile, and he kissed you again.

You’d both been about to wash up when the front door opened. His entire body froze next to the bed. Sarah never came home for lunch. She usually ordered for the office or met with him somewhere. He knew it was her when he heard keys slamming somewhere, and heels hurriedly stormed to the door. Neither you or Yoongi had the chance to cover up before Sarah burst into the room. Her eyes widened when she saw you pulling a blanket over yourself while he quickly yanked on his boxers. He cursed himself for taking so long. A stream of excuses came to his room when his eyes met hers. ‘She wanted it’, ‘She came onto me’, ‘She tricked me. I love you, baby. You know I do’.

“You. Motherfucker!” Sarah bellowed, chucking a hairspray bottle at him. He dodged it, and it banged the wall behind him. “I fucking knew it! I knew you’d do this, you creep!” she hurled another bottle at him, and it knocked into his hand when he shielded himself. “How dare you creep on my sister like that! I should have known better!”

She continued throwing things at him, ignoring your protests to leave him alone, but Yoongi knew it was over. As quickly as his victory came, it’d be tarnished by your slut sister. He struggled to put on his clothes during his escape, and felt a small pang of hurt when a skincare tub hit his shoulder. “Ah, what the fuck, Sarah?!”

“What the fuck?” she repeated, following him into the living room. “You really couldn’t help yourself could you? How the fuck could you do this to me, Yoongi? With my sister?”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything she didn’t want,” he retorted, pulling his shirt over his head. “She wanted to fuck me just as much as I wanted to fuck her. She planned this whole thing just so I’d fuck her.”

“Then you should’ve said ‘no’! You should’ve said ‘no’ and left! You’re not a dumb guy, Yoongi. You would’ve known a woman was coming onto you in a second,” she said. Her face softened, and he saw tears in her eyes, “I feel so stupid. I should have known you’d pull this shit. Elena from my firm told me all about you, and I didn’t listen. She said your thing was virgins, but I told her that I wasn’t and you were okay with it…Why, Yoongi? Why?”

He shrugged, “I like being first.”

A hard slap across the face was the last thing Sarah gave him before forcing him from her apartment. It’d been when she slammed the door that he realized he’d forgotten his shoes. He knew there was no way she’d give them back to him. His car was downstairs anyway. He’d get a new pair later. Beginning to walk away from the door, checking his pockets for his keys, the apartment door opened. He turned to see you wearing your sleep shirt and shorts, which you’d clearly pulled on in a hurry. In your hand, you held his shoes.

“You forgot these,” you said, handing them to him.

“Thanks.” He slipped on one of them, letting his foot get comfortable, “Sorry about, you know, that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to her and make her understand.”

“Understand what?” he finished putting on one sneaker when he faced you.

“That we love each other,” you smiled. “She’ll see that we-”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get carried away,” he began, stopping your roll before it went further.

“But, when we were….you said you felt close to me. You said I was special to you.” He saw your lower lip tremble, and your face fall. You clutched the hem of your shirt, and didn’t meet his eyes, “You said you thought you loved me.”

“That’s just what people say when they’re fucking. It’s not a big deal. See ya around,” he said as he turned to go to the elevator.

“So, you didn’t mean it?”

“Well, like, you are gonna be special to me. It’s not every day I find a real virgin,” he said, walking backwards towards the doors. “We had a good time, and we shared a really nice moment together, but I just broke up with your sister, and…um, yeah…It was nice knowing you.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked tearfully. You clearly did not have your sister’s fire.

“Sorry, Y/N. I think we should give it some time, you know?” He stepped into the open elevator, and pressed the ground floor button. “Hope I was a good first time.”

“You’re an asshole, Yoongi!”

“So, I’ve been told.”

He caught you breaking into a sob right when the doors closed shut.

A small smile stretched across his face thinking of your climax. He could still smell you on his skin, and taste you in his mouth hours after it happened. He recalled going home, licking his fingers and wishing he had you in his passenger seat. Of course, he texted the group about the entire thing. He needed to share his triumph with his closest friends, who wouldn’t shame him. Did he feel guilty hurting your feelings? Yes, but he would have eventually. Yoongi didn’t stay with his flowers long. In his mind, he saved you from the inevitable pain of a break up after months together. He’d opened you to a new world of possibilities.

“Boom! Head shot!” Jungkook cheered at the screen. “Suck my ass, you tyrannical scumbag!”

“How’d you do that?” Hoseok asked bewildered, his character still moving around until Yoongi saw a ‘game end’ screen come up. “I didn’t even see him!”

“He was in that warehouse building. They have a lot more autonomy in this one versus the original. They don’t stick to one place anymore.”

Yoongi turned to see Namjoon and Jimin standing closer together, talking over beers and ramen in their own world. He took this as a moment to leave, going over to the living room with his food.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook called to him, holding out the controller “You want a turn?”

Yoongi took it without really thinking. While Jungkook set up a new round, he thought about you again. You’ll be moving into campus dorms soon. There, you’ll find another guy who treats you well, and eventually sleep with him too. Lucky for him, your pussy is already broken into.

All thanks to him.

#btswritersclub #bts #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts suga #bts yoongi

206 notes · View notes

marblemoonstones · 8 months

Text

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter four

sorry everyone, it’s been a while! been busy, but I hope you enjoy reading 🤎

I apologize if there are any minor holes or grammatical errors. Feedback is welcome, but please be respectful. :)

*any similarities to other fics are accidental*

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

bts ot7 x reader

collegestudentreader!au

*warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, reader gets yelled at briefly, use of word bitch

word count: ~4.4k

The next couple weeks passed by in a blur, and before I knew it it was almost time for school to start up again. I’m going into my junior year at Seoul National University (sorry, super basic college) and am majoring in Education, as I want to be a teacher like Namjoon. But, unlike Namjoon, I don’t want to teach high schoolers. I want to be an elementary school teacher. (Sorry, I know it’s a pretty big time skip but I wanted to actually get to the college scenes lol)

The boys convinced me (more like begged me) to stay with them for school and said that “Your presence is payment enough!” (Minus Hoseok of course, as we’re still not on good terms for whatever reason) I finally relented after seeing the prices for dorms. Why were they so high for broke college students? Through these few weeks I have gotten to know the boys better.

Namjoon and I have gotten close because of our similarity in careers. We both are avid learners and want to help others learn and have bonded over many cups of tea. I know that I can go to him for any help with my schoolwork, and he says he will come to me for ideas because I am “younger and know what’s hip these days.” We also both love to read and have exchanged books frequently. He is more of a science fiction and fantasy type reader while I adore romance books (again, sorry if you don’t like these types of books). While I admit that his books are fascinating, I still prefer my cheesy, k-drama worthy books. There’s nothing better than us two sitting on my balcony reading all afternoon with some treats Jin or I baked.

Jin and I have become better friends through our cooking and baking. He is a master chef and much better than I will ever be, but it’s still fun to learn from him. It often makes me wonder why he is an actor and not a cook, but people can have more than one avid interest. My baking skills are modest at best, but I do still love to make different types of cookies as my mom taught me and to make cute mini lunchbox cakes for the boys to take to their work for a sweet treat.

More often than not I catch Yoongi looking at my treats longingly so I make more and send them with him to work. He is especially fond of my coffee cookies as I found him secretly eating them as a midnight snack one night. Yoongi and I have a mutual understanding where if we both need to relax for second and just breathe, we’ll seek out each other. I sometimes sit in his studio, just zoning out and giving myself a minute. And he sometimes will come find me in my room and just lay down next to me as I continue watching my show. These moments make me feel content.

Times that I do not feel content are whenever I’m with Hoseok. I genuinely want to at least be acquaintances, but he seems to want to be enemies forever. I try to reach out but every time he ignores me. More often than not he finds some excuse to not be in the room with me. I know the boys have noticed, but they haven’t said anything to me about it. I can only hope that with time he and I will eventually be able to tolerate each other.

With Jimin it has been a little harder to connect, but we eventually got to the point where we are now. While I’m not as close to him as the maknaes or even Yoongi, we still have a good bond. It all started when I asked if I could use the dance studio in the house (rich people, am I right?) for fun. I danced all through high school at a recreational studio and I enjoy it occasionally to keep me exercised. I was stretching when Jimin walked in and asked if he could watch. I was nervous at first but then once I got started I fell into my own world. Jimin applauded afterwards and I bowed, embarrassed. We both then danced together and that’s how our friendship started.

My friendship with the youngest two grew during those couple of weeks. After the shopping trip they decided that we were now a ‘trio of trouble’ and that we were besties. I’ll admit, sometimes I did feel a bit like I was third-wheeling them but for the most part it was great to have genuine friends. Sure, I had friends but they were mostly college friends that I didn’t see outside of school. But with Tae and Kook I felt that I could truly be myself. Endless hours of binging movies, playing video games, and doing stupid challenges/dares kept me entertained until my first day back.

Which is today. I’m not nervous, but I always get a small pit of dread in my stomach. I only have two classes today, Foundations of Education and Psychology (not me stealing these class names off a random college website haha). Foundations of Ed is in late morning, then I have a short break before Psych which is early afternoon. I have these classes three times a week, but they’re my only classes on those days.

I roll out of bed and rub my eyes before grabbing my glasses groggily. I knock on Jungkook and I’s shared bathroom and don’t get a response so I turn the knob and no one’s in there. I know today is also Jungkook’s first day of senior year but I’m fairly certain that he has a class around the same time as me. I wonder why he’s not up yet? Knowing him he overslept. That boy needs to learn to get a better sleep schedule. I lock both connecting doors and then carefully place my glasses on the counter. After showering I hop out, put my glasses on (bad vision is a curse, and this author knows the struggle, trust me, but at least glasses/contacts exist) and after drying off I change.

I put on jean shorts and a pink shirt, and after going into my bedroom I grab my backpack and double check that I have all of my supplies. A couple notebooks, binders, and of course a pencil pouch that’s all stocked up. Notebook paper as well as folders are also neatly lined up. I zip it up and then make my way downstairs.

Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi are all at their respective jobs. Jin is taking a break from acting, so he’s mostly here and Taehyung has a shoot later in the afternoon so I know he is also around.

Sure enough, Jin’s cooked me a ‘back to school breakfast,’ which is super sweet of him.

“Thank you so much Jin! You really didn’t have to do this,” I say to him.

“Of course I did! It you and our maknae’s first day back so you deserve a special breakfast,” Jin replies. “Speaking of, where is the little brat? He shouldn’t be sleeping because he has to get ready and take you both to school!”

“He’s still sleeping,” Taehyung says, walking down the stairs.

“Ugh, that kid will be the death of me. I’ll go get him. Eat up!” Jin goes upstairs, mumbling under his breath about how annoying Jungkook is.

I laugh, then sit down with Taehyung and start eating. Taehyung grins his boxy smile and says, “I wonder if Jungkookie will be late on his first day. If he is, I can take you to school.”

“I don’t think that Jin will let Kook be late,” I say, thinking of the father-like eldest.

“True. He’ll probably drag Jungkook by his hair if that means he gets up,” Taehyung says, laughing.

About ten minutes later a weary looking Jungkook and an irritated Jin come walking down the stairs.

“See, this is why you need to be more like y/n! She gets up on time and is actually prepared for school,” Jin scolds.

“Yeah yeah whatever hyung,” Jungkook says sleepily, sitting down at the table and eating a few bites of the now cold breakfast.

“Don’t ‘whatever hyung’ me, you have to promise that whenever you have school you’ll actually be ready,” Jin says.

“Okay fine I promise. Y/n you ready to go?” Jungkook says, standing up from the table and going to get his shoes on.

“Yep,” I reply, going to put on my white converse.

“Bye! Have a good first day!” Jin and Taehyung say as we leave.

Jungkook drives a nice sedan today instead of one of the rich luxurious cars they normally drive.

“Are you excited?” I ask Jungkook, “You’re almost done with school!”

“I’m excited to be done with it,” Jungkook agrees. We pull up and he parks then we get out and get ready to head to our respective classes.

“Well have fun with your Foundations of Ed class. You don’t need a ride home after, right?” Jungkook asks me.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m going to chill here through lunch until my Psych class then I’ll take the bus home.”

“You know you can call any of us to take you home right? We wouldn’t mind,” Jungkook says.

I know they wouldn’t care but I don’t want to bother them with me.

“Oh, you’re all busy people so don’t worry about it! Here come some of your friends so I’d better go.” There are a couple guys and girls who are walking up to Jungkook.

“Hey Jungkook!”

“Good to see you bro!”

“How was your summer?”

“Who’s this?”

The last question comes from a snobby looking girl. Her inky black hair is up in a high ponytail and she looks at me with disdain.

“Oh, this is y/n. She’s the one who’s staying with me and the boys for a while,” Jungkook says, introducing me.

“Hi y/n, I’m Felix.” He waves at me and I wave back.

“I’m Jackson,” says the next boy, grinning at me.

“I’m Hwasa,” says the girl next to the snobby one.

“And I’m Haneul,” says snobby girl.

“Nice to me you all,” I say.

“So you’re the girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm!” Haneul says sweetly.

“Haneul,” Felix says through gritted teeth, “That’s not true.”

“I’m sure it is though, Felix. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Haneul now has the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, well I supposed so,” I say, deflated at the thought that the boys think I’m just a ‘girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm.’

“Um, y/n that’s not what-“ Jungkook starts, sensing my change in mood.

“I’ve got to get to class! Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you.” I interrupt Jungkook. Turning on my heel, I swiftly walk away from the group, hearing Haneul whisper under her breath, “I told you she was poor.”

I find my building and classroom and walk in. It’s a decently sized room with partner desks in neat rows. Some students are already sitting in desks chatting with each other.

I find a seat in the back right corner by the window so I can see outside. I can only hope no one will sit by me, but that seems to not be the case as a couple minutes later a tired looking boy asks if he can sit next to me. I say yes and he flops into the seat and lays his head on his arms.

“Oh, by the way my name’s Seungmin,” he mumbles before closing his eyes.

I smile, amused at his tiredness and turn my attention to the professor as she walks in.

“Good morning class and welcome to Foundations of Education. We will be learning the basics of education and teaching in this class. My name is Professor Shin. Now, let’s take roll.” As she starts calling names, I turn my attention to my sleeping deskmate. I wonder if I should wake him up?

“Choi y/n?”

“Here,” I say.

Eventually she gets to Seungmin.

“Kim Seungmin?”

I nudge his elbow but he doesn’t stir. Then I poke him. Hard. This makes his head shoot up and then sees everyone staring at him.

“Oh, uh, here.”

“Mr. Kim, if you could please refrain from sleeping in class that would be much appreciated,” Professor Shin says with an annoyed look on her face. She then continues on with attendance.

“Hey, are you okay? You look super exhausted,” I say to Seungmin, seeing how his eyes are red and have dark circles underneath them.

“I’m fine I just stayed up way too late last night,” he says.

I nod then turn back to the professor, who is now passing out a slyllabus. I take a deep breath then focus for the rest of the class.

After class I bid goodbye to a still sleepy Seungmin and head out to get lunch. There are picnic tables around campus so I grab something to eat then go sit at an empty one. I enjoy the breeze through my hair and the peacefulness of the trees. Until I see someone coming up to me out of the corner of my eye. I look and it’s Hwasa and Jackson.

“Hey y/n, can we sit here?” She asks.

“Sure.”

They sit and pull out their own lunches.

“We’re sorry about Haneul this morning,” Jackson says after chewing and swallowing, “She can be a bit…blunt sometimes.”

“Who’re we kidding Jackson, she’s blunt all of the time,” Hwasa says with an eye roll.

I appreciate these two apologizing for their friend’s action and like them immediately.

“You guys really don’t have to apologize. I mean, I am poor enough to not be able to afford a dorm,” I say.

“Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean she needs to be so bitchy about it, and besides, dorms are expensive for anyone,” Hwasa points out.

“Can we not talk about Haneul now please? I’m trying to eat,” Jackson complains. Hwasa and I laugh and we change the subject to school and finish our lunches.

“Thanks for letting us join you for lunch y/n,” Hwasa says as we clean up and throw away our trash.

“Of course. It’s nice to meet some of Kook’s friends!” I say, genuinely glad to have made more friends.

“Aww, you called him Kook. Are you two super close? You can tell us. We’ve been his best friends for ages now,” Jackson says.

I want to trust them, so I reply “I guess you could say that. We definitely have gotten closer these past couple of weeks.”

“Ooh, have you now?” I hear a horrible voice behind me. Of course it’s Haneul.

“You see, you may have gotten closer to Jungkook but I’ve known him since he was little. No one knows him better than me,” Haneul says, trying to intimidate me.

It’s true that I still know little about the boys’ background and upbringings, but I am still surprised that Jungkook would hang out with someone like Haneul. The boys also haven’t mentioned her at all.

“You only hung out because your parents were good friends with his,” Hwasa explains with yet another eye roll.

“Are you jealous Haneul?” Jackson teases, enjoying the glare in Haneul’s eyes.

“No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of a stupid nobody like her?”

Wow, straight to the point. I can try to ignore it, but I’m not sure if I can deal with another person hating me. Hoseok is more than enough.

“Excuse me, I need to get to my next class.” I leave as gracefully as I can but my body still reacts to her calling me stupid. I take a deep breath and try to calm my shaking hands and racing heart. Eventually I am calm enough to walk into my next class, but my hands still tremble.

I step into my Psychology hall, a big airy room made for a lot of students. There’s only a couple people in there as I am early because I was escaping from Haneul.

I take a seat near the middle because I want to be able to see the board. Soon the hall starts filling up with students. A girl sits to my left and eventually a guys sits on my right. Neither of them look at me and continue to talk to their friends around them.

The professor comes in, a kind looking man. He introduces himself as Professor Kim (so many Kims) and starts to talk. The class goes by quickly and then I’m free. First day of school done. I make my way out of the crowded hall and back into the sunlight. I check my phone and see that I have a couple missed text from Jungkook.

I’m sorry that Haneul said those things. I know ur not poor and I apologize for her words.

Y/n? Ur probably in class, but I just wanted to remind u that any of us would be happy to take u home after ur last class.

I smile at his Haneul text, but text him back to tell him that no one has to take me home.

I’m a big girl Kook, I can take myself home. But thanks :)

I am about to round the corner of the building when I hear Haneul talking. I stop when I hear that she’s talking about me.

“Honestly y/n probably just wants the boys money. She’s just a gold digger that acted all pitiful and the boys are too sweet to say no to her. I feel bad for her because as soon as the boys figure this out she’s going to be kicked out of their house. Actually that’ll be super funny!”

I hear tittering laughter and turn around to go the other way, eyes slightly glassy. Is this what everyone thinks? That I’m a gold digger? If they think that, then I won’t accept anymore gifts from the boys. Them letting me stay is more than enough and I don’t want them to hear these rumors because it will impact their reputation.

I blink the tears away and then continue to the bus stop. I check my phone to see that Jungkook has texted me again.

Look, I know u can handle urself but I don’t want anything happening to u. Hobi-hyung is free now and I sent him to pick you up. Just this once bc it’s the first day ok? :)

Great. I can’t let Hoseok see me like this. I sniff then blink and make sure I look okay before seeing a car pull up that has Hoseok in the driver’s seat. I text Jungkook back.

Ok just this once but no more after today Kook

I go up to the car and open the passenger door, climbing in to a stoic Hoseok.

“Hi Hoseok. Thanks for picking me up. You don’t ever have to do this again. I told Jungkook I will be taking the bus for the rest of the year.”

“That kid didn’t even think that I have dance today, so I’m taking you to my studio. We can then go home together afterwards with Jimin,” Hoseok says with his usual coldness.

Oh boy. Going to his work? This is great. Just great.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the light music of the radio.

We pull up to a modern looking building that says Epiphany. I get out and follow Hoseok inside. The receptionist greets us and then Hoseok tells me to wait out here.

“My class ends in an hour and so does Jimin’s. We’ll leave after that so just wait here patiently.” He then leaves and I’m left to sit in the rather comfy chairs. The receptionist smiles at me and tells me to tell her if I need anything.

There are two big glass windows and I can see into the studios. I see Jimin in one of them, leading stretches to younger looking children. I smile as they talk and laugh while doing their splits. I look to the other one and there’s Hoseok leading some college looking dancers in stretches too.

The front door swings open and in walks none other than Hwasa and Haneul.

“Oh my gosh, we’re late! Let’s go before Hobi kills us!” Hwasa says hurriedly, rushing to the studio with Hoseok in it. “Hi y/n!” She calls as she darts last me.

Haneul is in less than a rush than Hwasa. “Oh hello y/n. What are you doing here? Surely you aren’t here for class? Only the best of the best come here.”

“I’m just waiting for Hoseok and Jimin to finish their classes,” I say, trying to be polite even though I heard her hurtful words earlier.

“Oh you can’t even drive? That’s rough. Or is it that you don’t have a car?” Haneul asks with a look of pity on her face.

“I can drive perfectly fine, but I don’t have a car as of right now. Anyways, aren’t you late to your class?” I ask as nicely as I can.

“Oh yeah, guess I’d better head there. Have fun sitting!” Haneul bounces away and I sigh. She’s everywhere, so I guess I better get used to her and her rude words.

I turn my attention back to Jimin’s class. He’s leading the kids through the five ballet positions, walking around and fixing their legs and arms. His cheerful and encouraging smile makes me smile, and I can feel my heart flutter a bit. But, just as every time before, I push it away and remind myself that the boys are off limits. They all have each other and are happy. You’re just going after the first attractive people that you see y/n. And it just so happens to be your housemates. I can’t help that these are the kindest and most beautiful boys I’ve ever seen. They’re strictly friends to me and will stay that way.

I look at Hoseok’s class, seeing that they’re now done warming up and move on to dancing hip-hop and free styling. While most of the class is good, my eye is drawn to Hoseok. This makes sense, as he is the teacher, but for some reason I can’t tear my eyes away. He looks up as he’s dancing and our eyes lock on each other. I quickly look away, my cheeks burning as he probably doesn’t like me staring at him. But then I see that his eyes are turned away too, and there is a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Or it could just be that he’s tired and sweaty from dancing.

After both classes finish, I stand and stretch my arms from sitting for an hour. Hwasa comes out of the locker room and asks me, “What did you think? Were you impressed by my amazing dance skills?”

I laugh and reply, “Yes of course. I didn’t know that you could dance like that!”

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” Hwasa teases, “Like how you don’t know that Hobi was staring at you during class?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I say, dropping my voice to a whisper-yell, “He wasn’t looking at me! He hates me! And he’s dating six other boys!”

“Whatever they all like girls too…Unfortunately I have to go now, but give me your number and text me if any updates happen!” Hwasa swiftly grabs my phone and types her number in it, winks, and then saunters out.

That girl! Thinking Hoseok was staring at me…that’s ridiculous. She’s crazy. But I think that we’re starting a great friendship. And the boys also like girls? That’s new to me.

“Hi y/n! What did you think of our class?” That awful voice again. Haneul.

I force a smile before saying, “It was great! You all are so talented.”

“Why, thank you. I like to think so. I’m sure you’re good at something, right? Even poor people have some use in this world.”

This girl. Honestly, if poor is the worst insult that she can come up with, it could be much worse.

“Look, Haneul-“

“Did you just call y/n poor?” A voice behind us asks. We both look to see Hoseok, standing with his arms crossed and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Haneul smirks, and I know that she is thinking that Hoseok is going to agree with her. She’s probably right.

“Yes, I did call y/n poor. I mean, come on Hobi, we all know that she’s just leeching off of the boys and your money and that-“

“Haneul, even if I don’t particularly like someone that doesn’t mean I talk bad about them and call them names to their face and behind the back. That’s just rude. Don’t be a bitch.”

Haneul is shocked and storms out of the studio.

I turn to Hoseok to thank him.

“Thanks Hoseok. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing. No one deserves to be bullied by others,” he says bluntly.

“Look, can I just ask you one question? Why do you hate me?” I burst out, frustrated because he defended me but still is coldly talking to me.

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like change,” Hoseok says, sighing.

“Okay, well I just wish that you would’ve told me beforehand. I’m sorry for being change in your life and-“

“God y/n! Stop apologizing!” Hoseok shouts. I avert my eyes to the ground, as this is my usual tactic when someone yells at me. I try not to think of my ex.

I hear Hoseok apologize, low and slow.

Then he says, quieter, “Look, I don’t hate you and I wish that you would stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. Let’s get this out of the way; we may not like each other but let’s try to get along for the boys’ sake. Does that sound okay?”

I take a deep breath and nod.

“Sure, Hoseok.”

He does a small smile for the first time at me and holds out his hand.

“Getting along?”

I shake it.

“Getting along.”

I was going to write more, but I thought it was better to end here! looks like y/n and hobi are finally going to maybe get along! what do you think of haneul? and stray kids, hwasa, and jackson cameo! much love y’all. have an amazing day or night wherever you are 🫶🏼🩷

#bts #bts ot7 x reader #bts college au #college!au #ot7 bts #bts ot7 #btsot7 #marblemoonstones

23 notes · View notes

longstoryoongi · 1 year

Text

lost in paradise? ✧･ﾟ:*

welcome to romy’s bts fanfiction reading blog.

below you’ll find my chaotic library. feel free to browse through fics by member, pairing, reader type, genre, alternate universes and tropes. after you’ve read a fic, make sure to reblog it in order to support the writer. happy browsing, dear visitor!

SEARCH THE LIBRARY ✧･ﾟ:*

➳ by member.

kim namjoon kim seokjin min yoongi jung hoseok park jimin kim taehyung jeon jungkook

➳ by reader x pairing.

namjin • sope • taegi • jikook yoonmin • namseok • yoonkook • minimoni taekook • taejoon • 2seok • yoonjin vmin • taejin • vhope • jinkook • ot7 hyung line • maknae line vocal line • rap line

➳ by type.

drabble • one-shot • two-shot • series

➳ by reader-type.

gender-neutral reader • female reader

➳ by genre.

fluff • angst • smut • pwp • comedy • dark content slice of life • drama • mystery • horror supernatural • science fiction • fantasy dystopia • thriller • psychological

➳ by alternate universes.

idolverse!au • sugar daddy!au • racer!au • ceo!au college | university!au • soulmate!au • criminal!au vampire!au • werewolf!au • witch!au • demon!au angel!au • ghost!au • monster!au • fairy!au pirate!au • royal!au • apocalyptic!au zombie apocalypse!au • alien!au • space!au time travel!au • superhero!au • supervillain!au mythology!au • folklore!au • fairytale!au

➳ by tropes.

friends to lovers • rivals to lovers • enemies to lovers lovers to enemies • established relationship arranged marriage • fake dating • mutual pining

➳ romy’s fic reviews.

#lsy_ficmarked: to be read

#lsy_bookshelf: currently reading

#lsy_romy reviews.txt: my comments on other people’s writing

#lys_romy hearts this fic: personal favourites

#jamais queue: my queued tag

want me to read your fic? use the tag #useromy on your writing & i’ll be sure to check your creations out.

#lsy_navigation #lsy_library #bts fanfic recs

22 notes · View notes

nanamismoonchild · 2 years

Text

→chapter 2: taking ass and kicking names

→ pairing: demon! ot7 bts x rebel!poc OC named Afternoon

→ genre/au: science fiction, dystopian au, thriller, smut, fluff, angst, enemieis to lovers, enemies to friends.

→ chapter summary: A little looksy loo at the Facility, a brief mention of afternoon’s past, and maybe some ass-kicking

→ rating: 18+

→wc: 5.7k

→warnings: mention of torture, mention of death, misuse of authority, sword-fighting, mention of bruising, please let me know if i missed something

→ author’s note: thank you to @hesperantha for betaing for me. please. im going to hire you, you made this chapter so much better. I’ve seen a bunch of people do this but this fic relies heavily on comments and asks!

if you would like to be tagged for this fic, please send an ask or comment below! Or you know, dig a tunnel into my home.

The file weighed heavy in her hands, shaking more as each second passed while she thought about her answer. Saying no would cause problems.

Insubordination was an automatic expulsion from the Facility. Chief could easily report Afternoon as a rogue agent and the higher ups within the Facility couldn’t care less about what happened to Afternoon or any individual agent. They wouldn’t send her to Disturbia but they would send her back into the unruly streets of Plais. It would only be a matter of time before she was caught by them.

Saying yes was the easiest choice and the safest. It would ensure she continued to be the hunter, not the hunted.. If she said yes, she could have time to plan everything and have the resources of the Facility on her side. Her team would give her the motivation that was needed to infiltrate Disturbia and save their two friends. She’d need it.

She knew Chief would force her to carry out this mission one way or another. Whether it was by force or by choice, Afternoon would have to go. The will to save people that weren’t just part of her team but her friends was overwhelming.

Afternoon took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling heavily. it. Her team waited in anticipation for her answer. Chief sat behind her desk, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She knew what Afternoon’s answer was going to be.

“Yes,” Afternoon finally said flatly. She heard her teammates’ collective gasp.

“Good, you’ll leave-”

“When I say so,” interrupted Afternoon. She met Chief’s gaze, shoulders back, and hoped her voice wouldn’t tremble. “Sending me into Disturbia is one thing, but sending me in there with no preparation will only get me killed. And then neither of us will be able to save Lilith and Marigold.”

Chief’s eyes flashed, and Afternoon thought she saw a hint of a crimson around her irises. Must’ve been her imagination.

“Afternoon, this mission requires you to take immediate action. How long are you saying you need to prepare?”

“Long enough to make sure I do the job right. Lilith and Marigold are capable of keeping themselves alive for a couple of weeks.”

“You get three days, Afternoon.”

“A week.”

“Five days.”

“Two weeks.”

Aliah pinched her team leader as she saw Chief’s hands twitch. “Afternoon will take five days! And only inquire about more if she needs it.”

Afternoon nodded in thanks to her co-captain.

Chief folded her arms across her chest and was silent. The only sound in the room was the steady hum of the fan in the corner of the room near the window.

Afternoon glanced out the window at the purples and oranges painted across the sky. The sunset usually made her happy--a signifier that she had survived the day and gave her hope that she would survive the next as well. This time, though, she couldn't ignore the growing dread in the pit of her belly.

“Five days it is,” Chief finally stated. “No more and no less. You have full use of the resources that the Facility has. Money, weapons, food. It is all at your beck and call.”

“That was the plan anyway. You didn’t think I was going to hell on Earth with the clothes on my back did you?”

“That’s how Lilith and Marigold went. So why not you?”

“They were captured with their equipment. I know for certain that their gear wasn’t taken away. Disturbia wouldn’t be what it is if no one had protection.”

Chief swore under her breath, but backed down. “Your main goal is to bring my girls back. I don’t care if you escape or not. If they come back alive and tell me,you sacrificed yourself for them, I’d dance on your grave.”

Afternoon's hand seemed to raise of its own accord. Unbidden, the folder flew through the air toward Chief's head. The important papers that had laid out the details of the ill-willed mission flew around the room, whichTaylor would later say reminded them of paper airplanes.

Team Ace gasped as their normally cool-headed leader crawled across the short desk and snatched their Chief by her collar. For a brief second, Aliah thought she saw both of their eyes flash a deep purple.

Afternoon growled, “Let’s get three things clear. First, I am not your puppet. Second, I am doing this of my own accord, not yours. I am choosing to save Lilith and Marigold and bring them back to Team Ace. And third, I plan to come back and whoop your sorry ass in front of your daughters for disregarding the policies of the Facility. You used your mind-control on my team members and injured two of them. I have lost respect for you, Chief.”

And with that, she swept out of the room, an aura of anger trailing after her, leaving her team members in utter shock.

The Facility was stationed in an old university that had been abandoned by its students, faculty, and staff during The First Year.

The administration building, which was located to the north of the campus, housed the Chief’s quarters along with the meeting halls. The Facility’s founders were said to be in there as well. However, according to Taylor, they were never around.

Behind the administration building was the mess hall, which was just one of the many dining halls that students had once used. It was rare for anyone to eat there now, since the Facility had decided to use some of its considerable resources to incorporate mini-cafeterias into each of the dorms. Instead, the mess hall was mainly used for announcements for all of the teams.

A walk and a half down the hill was the library and the various buildings that previously housed the colleges. They were used to teach the kids who hadn’t finished high school and those who were selected to receive special training or were tapped for leadership trained here.

There were three dorms in the south of the campus, each housing multiple teams. There was the biggest dorm, The One Hundred, the closest to everything dorm: The Middle, and the smallest was The Three Hundred which is where Afternoon and her team live.. The old faculty of the university had thought it was amusing. Floors were occupied by different teams. The One Hundred could easily hold forty teams, The Middle held thirty, and The One Hundred was only able to hold ten. Eighty teams of eight people made up six hundred and forty agents of the Facility, all of whom were “rescued”off of the streets or enticed by a so-called reward the Facility would give them.

To the east, across from the railroad track, was the recreation center. The Facility’s recruits preferred to call it the combat gym. This is where the teams sparred with each other. Simply stepping into the gym meant you had to be on guard. People were usually hiding by the doors, ready to swipe an unsuspecting person.

It was where Afternoon was headed after the unfortunate meeting with Chief.

She needed to blow off the anger by beating up a poor rookie who knew no better than to challenge her. Was it the best way to deal with her confusing emotions? Probably not. But, if she was going to Disturbia, she might as well get as much practice in as she could.

Rock music by some band that had disbanded long ago blared through the speakers on the walls.

The first floor was mostly for people who wanted to chill and do a couple of squats or yoga. However, Afternoon had been a victim of becoming a pretzel when she let her guard down once. She avoided the area, so she kept going.

The second floor was a typical gym. Rollers, dumbbells, kettlebells and balls, treadmills, bikes and other equipment littered the floors in an organized chaos. Afternoon had seen someone almost get crushed by an exercise ball.

Her preferred floor was the third floor. It was primarily used for practice with swords–one of Afternoon’s favorite weapons to yield. The room was the size of a basketball court and was layered with blue foam floor mats. The windows were covered by blackout curtains, which made the room darker than what it should have been when handling dangerous weapons.

However, it was part of their training as agents of the Facility. Their main goal was to infiltrate Disturbia. And Disturbia was midnight in a forest form.

There were already a couple of teams inside the building waiting to unleash the day’s stress on some poor unfortunate soul. Afternoon nodded to a few of them even though in just a few minutes, they would become nothing but objects at the end of her sword.

Walking towards the back of the room, she opened the closet door that stored the weaponry. Falchions, sabers, claymores, katanas, and some Afternoon didn’t know the name of were for her choosing. Her favorite, though, was the double bladed sword. They were barely bigger than daggers, perfect for two-handed combat in close quarters. With them, Afternoon could could dance around two opponents and slice her way through an enemy line.

Grabbing one for each hand, she closed the closet door with her foot. She gripped the fine cloth that kept the swords together and gave them a twirl one at a time.

Perfect.

Sam, the lookout and paramedic for the third floor, blew his whistle. He was a tall, lanky blond man. He wore a crisp white shirt and khakis with too many pockets. His smile refused to wane even as the bulkiest of the agents stood in front of him. He made eye contact with each person as they all filed into the space, green eyes lingering on each face for at least a second or two.

“Alright, peeps. You already know the rules, but for the Facility’s sake I’ll repeat them,” he took out a piece of paper from one of the many pockets decorating his khaki’s. “Number one: your blades are all rubber. So there shouldn’t be any killing,” he says jokingly with a smile on his face. “Number two: if your opponent is downed, move on. Continuing to hit them will result in a foul and you will be put on dish duty for the week. Number three: remember that Disturbia waits for us all, so have fun while you can, but remember this is how you will fend for yourself.” He put it away after that happy note and smiled brightly at the agents in front of him. “Good luck out there. And newbies–”

“What. Sam?” An unfamiliar voice rose over the crowd as one of the rookies called out. “We just want to get out there and kick ass!” “I know you do,” he laughed. “I was just going to say watch out for Afternoon. She has her babies with her.” His green eyes found Afternoon’s brown ones and shone with glee. “ You may begin. ”

“Who the hell is Afternoon and who the hell names their child Afternoon ?” The rookie kept going.

Afternoon kicked their knee, sending them to the ground. Then she spun her left hand’s sword and flicked it across his back. Had the sword been metal, his back would’ve been sliced to smithereens. The rubber would just leave him with a nasty bruise on his back and an even worse one on his ego.

“I am Afternoon! And my momma named me after her favorite time of the day.”

She heard a wild scream from behind her and used the sword in her right hand to stab backwards. A yelp and a thud made her smile.

She spun around, keeping her arms elongated, thwarting any more sneak attacks. A brave rookie tried to jerk their claymore lazily in her direction. It was a weapon designed for close quarters combat, and the heftiness was obviously disagreeing with them. They were barely able to pick it up after that so-called jab.

She glided over to them and swept her right hand upright, sending her opponent reeling back.

“You broke my nose!”

“A lot more would have been broken had it not been for this rubber, rookie.”

She turned to face an older agent, Sarah, Sam’s twin sister. The same blonde hair and green eyes. Like Sam, she wore a smile that would stay there until she died. Unlike Sam, though, she was sculpted muscle. And the muscles were real and useful.

“Afternoon! How was your afternoon?” She laughed at her joke.

“Very funny,” Afternoon began to circle around Sarah. Her weak spots were usually hard to spot. But she had them. “But it was shitty thanks to Chief.”

“What’d Chief do?”

Sarah pulled something out of her pocket, a wicked blade that Afternoon silently thanked was rubber.

“Gave me an impossible mission but I couldn’t say no.”

Lunging herself at Sarah wouldn’t be a smart move. The blade that Sarah used was meant for close combat and was easy to maneuver unlike her twin blades. However, Afternoon had the advantage of having two weapons, which would (hopefully) get her another hit in.

She swiped at the blonde who easily jumped back, and used the weight of the swords to launch herself for another attack.

Sarah round-about kicked Afternoon into one of the walls. Pain ricocheted up the left side of her body.

“You can always say no to the missions. The Facility works through consent, you know this.”

Afternoon shook her head as she planned her next move. “Not this time.”

“Hm,” Sarah fingered the blade in her hands. “Mind telling the class what it is then?”

“Classified.”

Deciding that she had no choice but to get into close range, she threw her left sword to the ground and rushed at Sarah and tackled the older girl to the ground. Sarah must have been anticipating it though, since she managed to send Afternoon flying back into the wall.

She thought she heard something crack this time.

“Damn!”

Sarah laughed and came over to help Afternoon. “You’ll never beat me, Noon.”

Afternoon grunted, holding her arm close. “One of these days, Sarah.”

The fight between the two girls had lasted no more than a simple conversation. It was the longest Afternoon had ever held her ground against Sarah.

By the time Sam had called the fight officially over, Afternoon had been healed and given a “you’ll get it next time” pat on the back. Sarah had completely wiped the floor with everyone, but Afternoon held to the pride that she lasted the longest. One of the guys that was seated next to her in the infirmary had his head almost knocked off.

Sam sashayed into the room with his sister by his side. She looked like his personal bodyguard. Not an inch of sweat was on her forehead.

“Alright, champs. You all got beat to oblivion. But you did your best.”

Afternoon counted down the seconds before he launched into his regular speech.

“But, rookies, the field is going to be worse. The enemies won’t have rubber or plastic swords. They might not even have swords. Our goal at the Facility is… what?”

“Take control of what we lost,” everyone said.

“Exactly. And the only way to do this is with everyone prepared. What I saw out there was terrible and I will be letting your chiefs know that every single one of you will need extra training. So be prepared to see your schedules get a lot more hectic. Got it?”

“Got it,” everyone said.

“Good. Now go eat dinner!”

The infirmary filled with a mild chaos as everyone filed out of the room. Afternoon wished she had waited for her team, so they could have all walked back to the dorm together. They had more than likely gone to another sparring class.

Instead, she had to walk alone with her thoughts. It was fine though. The night was warm and the walk wasn’t a long one.

Besides, she needed to think. What would she do in five days? What did she need? Who did she need? If she knew her teammates well enough, they had snatched up the folder she had thrown, gathered all the papers, and read through it. They would know that she could bring one person with her. But who exactly would it be?

Her stomach growled and she forced herself to move quicker. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the energy for the fight had only been a result of her anger at Chief. Her thoughts went back to when she thought her leader’s eyes had changed colors.

Crimson.

Her only knowledge of eyes changing colors was with one of them. And he wasn’t allowed to set foot on this campus. Not without alerting everyone. But Afternoon knew better. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. And if he wanted to use her respectable leader, then he very much would if it meant getting under her skin.

“Shit.”

If it was him, then she just fell into his trap. Hook, line, and sinker. She should have known, but now it was too late. Besides, she needed to save her teammates and friends.

“Afternoon! Where did you go?” Aliah was barreling towards her. Behind her was Taylor, Aria, and Holly. Jack was probably already stuffing his face.

“Went to the rec. Got my ass beat by Sarah again.”

Taylor giggled, “You’re never gonna win that fight are you?” “Of course she’s not. Sarah always converses with her and Afternoon falls for it every single time.”

“Aria, shut up. And I’ll have you know that I lasted an entire conversation this time, boo.”

Holly joined in with Taylor’s laughing, making Afternoon’s cheeks warm.

“Y’all leave the poor girl alone,” Aliah chastised. “Besides, she needed it after the bullshit Chief put her through.”

“I needed an ass-whooping?” She asked playfully.

Aliah simply smiled and patted her captain on the back. “Let’s go eat. We gots a lot to chat about don’t we?”

The cafeteria was large enough for twenty round tables that could sit eight. Yellow walls and white lights greeted them as they made their way into the building. Their cafeteria was filled with the chatter of their dorm mates. The smell of french fries and burgers wafted through Afternoon’s nose and she couldn’t wait to get a bite of a veggie burger loaded with everything on it. Her stomach began to growl harder and louder as she made her way closer.

The group gets in line and feels their plates to the brim before finding a place to sit. Their usual table was near the exit to the elevators (courtesy of Aria who loved having a quick escape to her room). Jack was already sitting down with two burgers on his tray.

“Lucky bastard,” Holly remarked disapprovingly.

Jack must’ve heard her since he said, “I got my ass kicked early so I could get the first pick.”

Afternoon nearly swallowed her whole plate and chugged down her soda. Stress and skipping two meals had made her hungrier than a horse.

“Girl, if you don’t slow down-”

“Gonna get another plate. I’ll be back.”

“I knew this was going to happen,” Holly said. Her accent and the food in her mouth making it sound like she was saying “Aif knewf dist twas goanna to hawwen.”

“Same,” Taylor handed their burger over to Jack, who accepted it gleefully. They hated burgers, but adored fries so their plate was loaded with extra portions from everyone

Afternoon rolled her eyes and went to make herself another plate. However, Aliah wasn’t budging.

“You’re going to be sick if you eat another plate so soon. So sit down and let it settle.”

Afternoon grumbled but sat down. She may have been Captain, but Aliah was co-captain. And she had been picked for a reason.

“We read through your file. We think you should reconsider your answer.”

Oh. She wasn’t prepared for that.

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous. You might not come back. And then Marigold and Lilith will be damned right along with you,” Aria huffed. She wasn’t one to curse.

“Yes, it is dangerous, but I made a decision-”

“Without us,” interrupted Jack. He wiped his mouth clean before continuing, “You made a decision without your team.”

“We know you can take one of us with you,” Holly pointed out.

Afternoon felt a terrible churning deep in her belly as the food she'd eaten so quickly threatened to revolt. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of dinner, in a cafeteria full of other teams.

“I’m not taking any of you with me. Like you said, it’s dangerous and-”

Cries of “What the hell and “What the fuck” rose from her team. It attracted the attention of a nearby team named Team Bee, one of the members actually getting up and coming over to their table to assist. Just her luck. It was Leah. The one person who she was going to have to consult for this mission.

Leah was a short Latina with wide dove-gray eyes and a delicate build, but everyone quickly learned she wasn’t to be trifled with. She was quick-witted and used her small frame to get into the smallest of places. She kept her hair short and her clothes plain. She was her team’s best covert operations agent. If they needed her to disappear in and out quickly, then she could be.

“What’s with all the yelling, folks? Afternoon, you need help?” Leah asked, assuming position.

“No, Leah,” she kept her head down, feeling a headache coming along. “They’re just upset about a mission.”

“What’s the mission? Perhaps I can help.”

A flashback to a time where she and Leah were on an impromptu team flooded through Afternoon’s thoughts. It almost made her smile.

“Actually, Leah, sit down. We need to fill you in.”

After telling Leah the experience with Chief and the contents of the files, Leah sat back and stared at Afternoon, who was doing the same to her. Her brown eyes met Leah’s gray ones.

“Wow.”

“Wow is correct.”

“You really have to go back there?” Aliah’s eyes roamed back and forth between them. “What do you mean by ‘go back’”

“I was the one who recruited Afternoon to become an agent of the Facility. I saw her one day out on the street, hiding behind a trash can. I knew who she was instantly. Now she’s just a few years older…and a few years wiser…”

It was the First Year. The year they had come up from below the Earth and decided they wanted to take over. They became the law of the land. Judge, jury, executioner. They loaded those who didn’t agree with them into vans and sent them to their own version of Hell.

Disturbia. A forest so deep and so dark that you could lose sight of yourself there. But it’s not just a forest. It’s a jail in the form of abandoned woods filled with horror. They don’t kill you. That would be too easy.

They make you work for your survival. They make it hard. They make it rough.

Afternoon was only ten when she and her parents were loaded into a van one day. Away from the home she had grown up in. Her parents had committed an act of treason. They had protested against this new government.

As soon as she arrived, they were separated by people who couldn’t care less about the tears falling down her face as she reached for her mom and dad desperately.

She was placed in a run-down cottage with other kids around her age and some much older. The cottage was supposed to only housed about six people at the most. Afternoon had a feeling there was more than that. The living room was filled with bunk beds and mats. Afternoon had to squeeze her way through the hallway to get to the bathroom. The bathroom was, thankfully, clean and well taken care of. It had cold running water that she used to clean her face and wash her hands. The toilet seemed to be working too.

Across from the bathroom was a small kitchen-a stove, a fridge, and one countertop. Noodle packs were sitting on the floor in crates. A girl barely older than Afternoon was watching over a large pot of boiling water.

She introduced herself as Leah, wand turned out to be thirteen but so short Afternoon had mistaken her to be around her age. . She had been there months before Afternoon arrived and told the girl a few things she knew as she cooked noodles to feed everyone.

She pointed out where the guards like to watch over them. Taught them their names and their abilities.

“Don’t ever say their names aloud. They are demons. And demons go where demons are called.”

Afternoon made sure to remember that.

Leah introduced her to some of the other kids in the living room as they handed out bowls. There were fifteen children in all. All without parents. Taken away by monsters that wanted pure dominance.

It made her angry.

“We’re going to bust out of here soon. And we’re going to need you.”

“What about our parents?” Leah patted Afternoon’s afro. “We don’t think of them anymore.”

“Why not, Leah? We’re going to need as much people power if we want to escape. You said it yourself!”

The other kids smiled sadly at Afternoon. She hated it. The smiles felt like pity.

“Afternoon, there are things here that I hope you never find out,” Leah started. “And what happens to parents is one of those things.”

Afternoon was afraid to ask what happened. Her emotions were already all over the place from being separated. From the joy she had lost. From the love she she missed already.

Leah walked her over to a bed and laid her on it.

“Sleep. And then we’re getting you right back out of here. OK? You don’t need to worry.”

“Shouldn’t I know the plan now?” “You’re pretty damn smart, pequeño.”

“Yeah, I am. Now tell me the plan,” Afternoon demanded as she fluffed her pillow–it was as hard as rock.

Leah had been there longer and clearly knew the ropes already, but it was obvious that she and Afternoon were on the same page in terms of wanting to take action, neither one of them content to be left to their fate.

The group of parentless kids each told their parts of the plan. Afternoon soon found out that they were planning on a riot.

“Where are you going to get a bunch of people to even riot? There’s only ten of you, plus me, which makes eleven. That’s not exactly a distraction.”

Lee Jimin answered her question. He was one of the kids who had been here for a year.

“Some of us aren’t leaving. I won’t. Spent too much time here, and I know newbies are still going to be coming whether we escape or not. Someone has to be here to teach them the ropes.”

“That’s bullshit!” Leah pinched Afternoon’s cheeks. “Language!”

Jimin smiled sadly at the little girl. “She’s right though. It is bullshit. But if it gets kids like you out of here and back into the world, then I don’t mind.”

After some gentle (and not so gentle) coaxing, Afternoon settled under the scratchy blanket they had given her and fell asleep. She dreamed of her mother’s warm arms and her dad’s chocolate chip cookies. She didn’t know if she would ever see them again.

When she woke up, it was the same as it was before she fell asleep. Dark and cold. Uninviting. Her mom had named her after her favorite time of the day. When the sun had settled in the sky and was preparing for the evening. The middle of the day where your day could turn around for the best or the worst.

The other kids were already gone, probably preparing for their parts of the plan. They had let her sleep in.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Leah sang as she handed Afternoon a granola bar.

She took it and unwrapped it, eating as she spoke. “Is it really waking up if the sun didn’t come up?”

“The sun never rises or sets here. We only have the moon, and even that can be an enemy,” Leah sighed. “That’s why we gotta get you small ones-” “I’m not small!” “You are to them.” Afternoon finished off her granola, a little sad that her breakfast was so meek. “Are they really demons?” Leah nodded, taking Afternoon’s wrapper and throwing it into a small pile of trash near the door. Afternoon took the time to really look at Leah. Even though only a few years separated them in age, Leah seemed infinitely older. Since Afternoon had gotten here, she was always frowning. Always in thought.

“Well. I’ll give you a moment to get yourself together. The sink has running water, so you can clean your face. And there’s some clean clothes in the drawer. I’ll be back in a few. I hope you’re prepared for the shitshow.”

She wasn’t prepared. There were screams. Everywhere. They had been running for what seemed like hours. Most of the kids had given up earlier. It was only due to Leah and Jimin that she was able to carry on.

They were close to their escape–Afternoon could feel it on her tongue.

But they were close, too.

She could hear them muttering amongst themselves. Trees rustled as they breezed by. They were going to catch up with the group. And who knew what would happen to them if they were caught.

It was at this moment that Afternoon knew what to do. She had only been here for a day whereas most of the children had been here for the year. Afternoon didn’t have anywhere to go without her parents. And her parents were still here. She could feel it in her soul.

She broke out of the group and ran in a different direction. She sped through the trees, getting a few scratches from branches and a couple of leaves in her mouth. Nothing was going to deter her.

She could hear Leah and Jimin yell for her. She prayed they wouldn’t come after her.

Please escape. I’ll see you guys soon.

She ran until she came across a clearing. The moonlight cast an eerie glow in the center of the field. The grass was still as if it were anticipating Afternoon’s move. Or as if it sensed what she was going to do.

Afternoon remembered what Leah had told her in the kitchen.

“You call one of their names. They all come.”

She took a deep breath and steeled herself before calling their names. She couldn’t change her mind now. The fate of the others rested on her shoulders. And she’d be damned if the other kids couldn’t make it out.

She screamed as loud as her lungs would allow her. “Kim Namjoon!”

Nothing happened for several moments. But then, the hairs on the back of her neck started to rise. Her skin started to itch. And her body froze.

She could no longer flex her fingers or even blink.

Fear rose within her, but she tamped it down with the comfort that the others would escape.

It was only a pregnant second before she saw them.

They were young, handsome men. Men her mom would have swooned at, and men her dad would have cracked a beer open with.

Right now…right now their eyes were set on her big, innocent brown ones.

Taking the stairs had never made Afternoon so grateful. She was able to be rid of the awkwardness that would have come with the elevator ride to their floor.

Her body was tired and her emotions were frayed. Thinking back to that fateful day had left her feeling hollow.

The hallway to her room seemed to stretch into a thousand miles.

“Afternoon!” Aliah yelled out.

“Not now, Aliah,” she huffed out.

The rest of her team were quiet. They had known their leader was strong, but to hear she had braved Disturbia…Respect for her had risen.

Holly raced in front of Afternoon and blocked her from continuing, despite being the smallest member of the team.

“Stop.” Her Scottish accent made it cute.

Taylor and Jack stood next to her. Taylor picked at their nails while saying, “You know we love you, right?”

“Yes. But apparently, you don’t love me enough to get the hell out of my way.”

Jack rolled his eyes. Aliah and Aria made their way around her too, so that her incomplete team without Marigold and Lilith stood in front of her. Their eyes trained on hers.

Afternoon expected to see some sort of pity but detected none.

Aliah spoke, “Afternoon, we’ve known each other for years. We trained together as rookies. We sleep in the same room, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know I didn’t tell you. It’s not exactly something you tell people.”

“Yes it is,” Aria exclaimed. “You’re the Facility’s greatest asset. And-”

“First of all, I’m no one’s asset. I’m not a tool.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What she meant, Afternoon,” Jack started, cutting his eyes towards Aria. “We don’t deserve you as our team leader.”

An audience was gathering on the stairs behind them.

“Can we take this to me and Aliah’s room?”

“Nah, I’m tired. Jack and I are going to get some shut-eye,” Taylor yawned.

“We are?” “Yes.”

Taylor dragged poor Jack by the ear and started off to their room. Aria and Holly followed suit, leaving Aliah and Afternoon alone in front of their door.

“Why’d they change their minds so quickly?”

Aliah shrugged and opened the door to their room. The smell of Aliah’s essential oils permeated the air. It was set on an hourly mist so they’d always come into a room smelling of lavender or morning dew.

Afternoon fell onto her bed, not bothering to take off her suit and boots. That would be tomorrow's problem.

“Good thing tomorrow afternoon is laundry day for our floor. Those sheets are gonna be stanky as hell,” commented Aliah dryly.

“You’re right, but I don’t care.”

Afternoon felt Aliah’s eyes on her back, so she turned over to face her friend.

“What?”

“You’re going to take me.”

If Afternoon hadn’t been as tired as she felt, she would have sat up. Instead, she dragged a pillow under head and nodded. Her eyes were slowly closing.

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.”

Her body relaxed and she fell asleep under Aliah’s watchful but caring gaze.

HERE IS ZE POLL!

67 notes · View notes

namboobieslover · 10 months

Text

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 4

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 4: Don't worry, honey.

Word count: 1867

Does she want to play? Let’s play then. I prepare her usual rum with cola; she drinks that like water. For me, I’ll go on with more whiskey.

-There you go -I offer her the glass as I speak- Your favourite.

She tries it and it must be strong because the reaction is her nose scrunching, elevating her glasses with that action.

It’s not my fault since she intently tries to avoid wearing them in public, but I’m still a little surprised. She has this nerdy look that fits her really well, kinda… cute.

I love it when she goes totally science mode, telling me about these things I don't fully understand but makes her fascinated. I get fascinated with her. Most of the time I can't even follow her rhythm or I just stare at her with a blank face, the passion she shows being the only thing I can focus on. Me and my ADHD brain.

-Tell me if I'm wrong but the "love story" -she remarks with her hands- is then resolved.

-I guess. Or maybe… should we talk a little more about details?

-Yeah, lots of coworkers will have insatiable questions about this. Usually, when they ask about it, I just say "Uh, long story. I'll tell you about it when time accompanies". I didn’t want to be detailed about it because I'm not good at lying, nor at remembering things; especially lies.

-You made the right decision. What do you prefer: making up the whole story from scratch or should we add things we would like in those situations? To feel more natural.

-Maybe half and half. We can invent the story and progressively incorporate things we imagine in that type of situation; better if we coincide.

-Works for me -I agree- As we said the first meeting can remain as it was.

-Yeah

-Then, the fictional part should start in university and the whole living together thing.

-About the place… it's safer to say that we live in mine; my coworkers may have access to some of my personal information.

-That's true, but just in case, to justify you going in the opposite direction to eat in Mrs Lin's place… what about saying that we lived first here and then moved to yours?

-That's brilliant… babe.

Even though she struggles with the nickname, the more we say it, the less weird it feels (even if it's just a little little little amount). I should start to practise too, so… little devil on my shoulder comes with a plan.

-Minnie, I have an idea.

-Tell me.

-It's normal because we are not used to it, but we are struggling more than we should with the nickname thing. What do you think about playing a game?

She fights a smile and the competitiveness fills her eyes.

-I'm all ears.

Sure you are.

-We must say one of the agreed names at every natural chance we have. If we forget and the other notices it, the one that failed must drink a shot. It finishes when this night does. Starting from…now.

-Are you ready to lose?

-uh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be ready to WIN once you take your first shot, honey.

She doesn't even deny it once she realises it.

-Let's keep on, babe -she quickly says after drinking it- now that we have stabilised where we lived and live now, how we discovered that we were in love?

-Well, you were the first one to take the first step. What kind of things make you act that way? As I said I know about your lack of patience, but being more specific…?

She seems deeper in thought while trying to figure it out.

-Well… the first thing that comes to mind is the other person avoiding the subject. I don't like receiving mixed signals and then acting like nothing happened; it confuses me and my anxiety gets bad. I need to sort out the situation because if not… I start to doubt myself and my criteria, like wondering if I'm seeing things where I'm not supposed to. Time and health consuming.

-That implies that I'm the one that gave you those mixed signals? -I assume.

-Yeah. It's realistic how hard it would be to change the kind of relationship from besties to partners. As reserved as you are, the absence of answers in that field fits you well. Being honest… you look like the type that doesn't care about this stuff.

I drink from my cup. Even if I try, I can't find a reason to feel hurt by her words. Yes, kinda reflects this image everyone has of me or what I guess I project.

What she says is true and hasn't the intention to hurt me, but it still stings something deep inside me.

-What's wrong? -she cautiously asks.

-What? - I feel lost.

-I can tell something is bothering you.

Should I say it?

-It's just… I -I do care about those things. Do I really give this cold impression that no one can imagine I have feelings too?

I have never felt so exposed, but her face changing from a disoriented expression to a warm one calms me.

-Of course not - she says softly reaching my arm with her hand- I mean… maybe if a stranger meets you for the first time you give disinterested vibes, but once someone has the chance to meet you they can see that you are just an observer.

-Really?

-Yes, Yoongs. I think your character is one of the things I like the most about you.

-Why?

She finishes her drink before answering, trying to get all her thoughts together.

-Sorry if you have felt this way and I didn't notice; what a bad friend I am. In my defence, you should have told me earlier -she playfully hits me- But I will tell you now and don't let it go up to your head.

-This is going to be interesting.

-Shut up before I change my opinion -she warns me with fully red cheeks.

- Sorry

-Maybe we should continue deciding the next step?

-C'mon, what were you going to say? Why do you like my behaviour?

She huffs a big amount of air, her face resembling a tomato once again.

-I think that the way you act makes you interesting.

-How come?

-When I see you deep in thought I can't help but wonder what you are thinking about. What is so fascinating that makes you dissociate? Which is your opinion on common things you don't outside-ly react to? Feels intriguing; a mystery yet to resolve. Your ability to remain calm in whatever situation it's reliable and comforting. You have your ways.

-I do?

She snorts while another cup of alcohol is served by herself.

-Of course you do. Min Yoongi, to my expert eye you don't have that many secrets. Maybe I can't figure out daily things but I can do the important ones. Like, I know how you don't feel comfortable giving away love words or contact gestures. But I know how you take care of everyone in every little way you can: acts of service it's called.

Nobody has ever told me they were paying attention to what I do to the point of noticing that. Feels new and exciting.

-You think that for real?

-Of course. Have I ever lied to you?

-There was this time in 12th grade when you snuck out to meet with… what was his name?

-That's irrelevant right now and that was just a little white lie. I'm sure you wouldn't like to hear me talking about the plan I had to escape through my window just so I can lose my virginity.

-That's true.

Fucking. Kim. Taehyung. Nice guy but terrible at managing his relationships with girls.

-Anyways… have I ever lied to you about something important?

-No that I'm aware of.

-Then just accept the compliment so I can breathe, honey.

She seems a little ashamed to have admitted that she likes my interior world, but I'm not one in the position to laugh at it: I don't know why but I find myself a little flustered. Seems like my own game it's turning against me.

-So… you pay attention to what I do or not, hm? -I joke in a flirting tone

-Not on purpose -she fights me while a deeper scarlet flourishes all along her face- most of the time it's just frustrating and I wanna hurt you real bad. Why would you give me the medication when hungover but offer them to me without looking me in the eye? Like it's nothing? It makes me feel ridiculous.

-Why? -now I'm concerned.

-Because… because…

What started as a joke seems to have touched a sensitive spot for her. Are tears what I see? She sniffles a little.

-Sometimes I feel like everything is out of my hands; like I can't keep everything in order without failing. Even this whole situation… I can’t resolve a struggle I made myself without other people's help. You are always taking care of me and I don't know how to pay you back. I feel useless and every time you help me, I just want to tell you that I appreciate the gesture… the way you act like "it's just routine" makes me feel weak and stupid.

-Oh sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.

-No worries; how could you have known if I had never told you anything about it? You are not a mind reader. So… blame is on me.

Lately, I've been so focused on my work that I didn't take what my friend felt into consideration. I feel bad, even if all the hurting wasn't intentional. Sadly, I'm not brave enough to admit that if I act that way it's because I feel ashamed to show my genuine feelings. How much I care about her well-being and how endearing his little demeanours are to me. But I'm sure that she knows this and all she has expressed now is the result of all the pressure she is going through. I do the best that comes to my mind: I wrap my arms around her torso and force her to be part of the sandwich conformed by my strong arms and my chest.

-I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. -I wish for my hold on her to reflect how truly sorry I am.

I feel her body instantly relax. She feels warm while I feel cold; it must be the alcohol. Or it's just the physical representation of what we are. I don't know. All I know is that hugging her feels nice, right and the only thing in this world that deserves my attention now.

-You know Yoongles, I could never be angry with you. As I said, I know you enough to see the real you and is marvellous. You shouldn't hide it. I wish everyone were able to see your real side.

But you do (I want to say but don't have the courage to) and on Thursday- well, not Thursday but already Friday if we are exact- at 1:23 am, that's all that matters to me.

------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hell yeah, we love a sensitive king!

This must be a record hahaha. Since this one and the previous one were shorter, I thought that uploading double would be the right thing. I hope you still like it, and if not, please let me know in the comment section. Have a good day or night :)

5 notes · View notes

kagiura-akira · 22 days

Text

20 questions to ask a writer

i stole this from my suggested feed so feel free to steal this from me too

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 36, 4 are incomplete series. Only 1 of those 4 hasn't been abandoned so I've only got 1 WIP posted on AO3 as of current.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

169,732

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's pretty exclusively Hirano to Kagiura but I tend to move fandoms once every couple years as my interests change.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

From most to least,

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not always but it's about a 50% chance that I will. Sometimes if it's just a "omg this is awesome" I don't really know what to say other than thank you so once I thank one comment from the same person that comments something like that once on one fic, if they have similar comments on the other chapters, I tend to not respond to the others unless it's the final chapter

I do like to engage in questions about my writing choices though!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to lean toward angst endings but maybe that time I wrote a fic about youngjae grieving over a dead lover? Or when I wrote that short yoonseok Time Traveler's Wife AU.

Every ending I write usually has a little bit of hope in it, even if it's angsty. It's relatively rare that everything is doomed in an ending in my fics.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think ABCs of Us has what I would consider the happiest ending but my plans for the kagihira Strawberry Dreams au will end better 😈

8. Do you get hate on fics?

People are nicer these days but I got some flames on my old stuff when I was a teenager. And like. Yeah they weren't that great, but the first one I ever got made me want to cry of course.

I haven't gotten any hate since I made my ao3 account.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, however I had only written T rated stuff until like 2019 when I finally got over my hesitation (God forbid the Internet knows I have... *gasp* thoughts about sex?!?!) and wrote smut for the first time at the ripe old age of 27 lmao. I've only written like. 2 or 3 really explicit things because of that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't tend to. I'm not sure I ever have actually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Only once that I can recall for certain. I had a sasamiya oneshot translated to Russian. I think someone started to translate ABCs of Us several years ago but ended up never finishing.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kind of? I did the writing, but it was planned together with an old friend. It was abandoned though.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Right now it's kagihira (Hirano to Kagiura) but past obsessions honorable mentions include 707xMC (mysme), yoonseok (BTS), and SoulxMaka (Soul Eater)

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

That short fic about kagihira bringing a kitten home to the dorm and hanzawa finding out but gaslighting the whole dorm into thinking there's a ghost cat haunting the dorms. It would be a good thing for like. Writing when I'm not feeling up to it. But I don't have a clear vision for it, only a vibe, so it's probably least likely to get done.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't tend to repeat myself too much, maybe to my own detriment though. My grammar is typically on par because my self-proofreading skills are good. I think my descriptions of fictional places are up there, too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My top is writing transitional scenes... It's really painful sometimes.

After that in no particular order are making structured plots for long fics, coming up with titles, how to open/end a story, and filler dialogue.

I do a lot of technical writing for my career so I find that sometimes I have trouble switching out of formal technical science paper mode to creative writing, but that struggle helps my narrative grammar to an extent. Not so much the dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm not confident enough to write full sentences in anything other than English. I had a medium understanding of Japanese while I was learning kanji but one day I stopped keeping up on my lessons right as I was starting to grasp sentence structure, and now I can't remember anything because it's been like 2 years and I haven't been using it.

I could construct a sentence in German with confidence but why would I want to do that lol

19. First fandom you wrote for

Bleach 🫣

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I personally have the most fun writing the kagihira parent AU oneshots, but the most satisfying to write was the smut chapter in I'll Love You If You Let Me. I remember ABCs of Us being nice to write too.

#writing #AO3

0 notes

thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Fragmentation 5.0 - KNJ

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,269

AN: Now we get Namjoon’s perspective. YAY. Also in the Real World in Zion. Again, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Oh look,” a voice said suddenly, “it’s the prodigy.”

Namjoon sighed as he continued typing away on one of the system computers. For the last three years, he lived in Zion’s control tower. It was where all the trainees went who hoped to become Operators for a ship. In less than a year of his boarding, Namjoon showed excellent marks in reaction time as well as hacking prowess. It was no secret that he was far ahead of the rest of his class and there were rumors that he would graduate in the next year if he continued to excel in every area of expertise they could throw at him.

That didn’t make him very popular with his peers. Then again, it wasn’t like he actually cared. They all had a common goal and as long as that remained true, then they only needed to focus on doing their jobs.

Who cared if it was some popularity contest?

“Wait guys. You know he hates that title. We have to call him by his alias, remember?”

The tone was snide and insincere. Again, Namjoon didn’t care. He had other things he needed to devote his attention to. Rumor was that he would be boarding a ship soon to help with a simple reconnaissance mission. Nothing too overly complicated, but he wasn’t about to turn his nose up to the task. The lives of Matrix Operatives were in his hands and that was a responsibility that no one should ever take lightly.

So he continued to tune out his fellow classmates, focusing his energy on the program he was creating. It was a training program that would be used in the Construct - an exercise to help hone the sensory perceptions of operatives so that Agents wouldn’t be able to get the jump on them. When Agents obtained a target, they were relentless in their pursuit until an Operator was able to get them out. Namjoon wanted to prevent such tragedies from ever taking place. What better way than to prepare the operatives in any way possible?

He received word from his mother that Taehyung would be boarding a hovercraft next year. To successfully become a pilot, a trainee needed to physically handle the controls for years. Namjoon barely saw his brother due to his own hacker training, but it was guaranteed that they would not cross paths for several more years once Taehyung boarded a vessel.

Namjoon felt a hand on his shoulder, but he continued typing away at his station.

“Don’t listen to them,” said Vermillion, giving Namjoon a gentle shake.

“I don’t,” he replied, his eyes narrowing at the line of code he was reworking, “I always tune them out.”

“Typical. That’s just like you, Spectre.” Vermillion chuckled, sliding into the chair beside him. She peered over his shoulder as he continued working. “That looks pretty advanced. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”

Pressing several more keys, Namjoon saved his progress and closed out the command console. Everything was transferred to the mini disc that slid out from a tray on the main hub. He popped it into a small case and shoved it into his pocket.

“It’ll take a few more weeks before I’m satisfied.”

Namjoon stood from his chair, grabbed his bag, and made for the exit. He didn’t have to look to know that Vermillion was hot on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, but he’d come to be a very solitary person. He rarely saw his mother and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t see his brother for several years. Not until they were both finished with their respective Training Programs.

“You’re not going to report to the Head Programmer of your progress for the day?”

He smirked. “He already knows.” Turning to look at her, he continued walking. “I was told to help out at the Command Tower for a few hours.”

Vermillion’s eyes widened. “Wow. Forreal?”

He nodded and they continued walking through the various metal corridors. The shocked look on her face was well-placed. Most people didn’t get to work at the Command Tower during training because there was a high risk of something failing because of an amateur mistake. The fact that their teacher cleared him for work at the Command Tower was another testament to Namjoon’s skill level.

They reached the elevator for the Command Tower. Namjoon’s hand hesitated over the button as he looked at Vermillion. She seemed to want to say something else to him, so he waited. But after a handful of minutes of silence, he sighed and pressed the button to call the lift.

“Well, I’ll be seein’ you,” he said as he readjusted his bag’s strap along his shoulder.

The metal doors groaned as they slid open, granting him access. He stepped onto the lift and just before the doors closed, he saw Vermillion’s smile as she waved at him.

“Do well, Spectre.”

He flashed an easy grin in her direction. But once the doors were closed, the smile fell off his face immediately. Namjoon didn’t have any time to waste. There was a chance the war could be over in his lifetime. It waged on for damn near a century already. The people of Zion, human-born and field-born alike, were all tired of this seemingly never ending conflict. His parents saw the brunt of it during the beginning phases - children when their parents were fighting for their freedom.

Namjoon didn’t want to pass this burden on to his children.

To keep that from happening, he would work himself into the ground. Until there wasn’t a single breath left in his mortal body.

Four Years Later

Spectre pulled out his mini computer, booting it up to look over the dossier files of the ship he was newly assigned to. He was originally slated for Operator duty the previous year, but he opted out of it. His brother, Edge, hadn’t returned from his training tour yet. The benefit of finishing at the top of his peer group was that Spectre got to pick and choose a few things here and there.

Namely when he would be boarding a ship.

He quipped a brow at the list of crewmates on his future ship. There were some impressive resumes on the vessel. Certainly nothing he could turn his nose up at. The Admiral must have had a hand in the assignments and there was clearly a reason why Spectre was placed with that particular group. Based on the skill records of everyone on board, save for the pilot, they all had more than one year of field experience that wasn’t “on the job training”.

The Captain and First Mate in particular.

His eyes scanned over the pilot’s name and he couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Spectre had all the faith in the world that his brother would make it through the Training Program, but he hadn’t expected to see his name on a crew member manifest just days after his ship docked back home.

“Yo, Big Bro!”

Spectre lowered the mini computer to his side, lifting his gaze up to see his younger brother strolling up the long metal walkway toward him. He closed the computer, slid it into his pocket, and waved to Edge. His little brother wasted no time closing the distance between them, taking off in a dead run and barrelling into him. Spectre grunted when he felt Edge’s shoulder crashing into his chest, his arms encircling around his waist. He laughed as Edge lifted him up off the ground.

“Hey,” Spectre said, patting his younger brother’s head, “a little over the top, don’t you think?”

Edge set him down, placing a fist on his hip. “Are you kiddin’ me?” He pouted. “I haven’t seen you in years. I should be setting off fireworks.”

Lifting a basket off the ground and handing it to Edge, Spectre shook his head. “Yeah, don’t do that. We’ll get court-martialed.”

Edge’s heavy steps reverberated off the metal flooring. “It would totally be worth it, though.”

“It wouldn’t, actually, but whatever.”

The brothers shared a smirk with each other.

It didn’t take them long to reach their house. The door was already open just as they saw their mother stepping out. She carried a basket of linens in her hands - presumably to go do laundry at the water recycling plant. The minute her eyes shifted in their direction, however, she seemed frozen in place. They took a few more steps toward her, watching as she dropped the basket at her feet. The dirty clothes and bedding would remain ignored. They already knew what mattered most to their mother.

“You’re back,” she finally managed, her hands trembling as she reached for them, “I knew you’d both come back home together.”

The two brothers filled their arms with their mother - holding her closer than they believed was possible. Her smell hadn’t changed and the strength in her embrace was just as they remembered it when they were children. She openly sobbed against each of their faces, overwhelmed with how much they’d changed. Yet they remained the same. They were men now, but the brothers knew that they would always be her little boys.

Her pride and glory.

After what seemed like too short a moment, their mother pried herself from them. “You two must be starving,” she said, turning to usher them into the house, “I’ll see about gathering some rations for dinner.”

Spectre leaned down to pick up the discarded laundry basket. “You don’t have to do that, Mother,” he offered, but he could tell that she would not be hearing any of it.

“Go inside and unpack your things. I’ll be back!”

They both sighed in unison as they watched their mother dart off down the metal walkway and across the bridge. Spectre turned to Edge and they both shrugged, making their way inside the home they hadn’t been in for several years. Lucky for them, nothing had really changed.

Spectre poured himself a cup of water, handing it to Edge and then poured another. “Have you gotten your assignment yet?”

Edge smirked as he pressed the metal cup to his lips. “Of course I have.” He gulped down half the water and set it down on the metal counter. “I’m stoked as fuck that I’m going to be piloting the ship you’re the Operator of.”

“That’s it?” Spectre lofted a brow at his younger brother. “Nothing else?”

“I mean, not really.” Edge shrugged. “I don’t know much about the others. I’m just glad I’m with you.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. He should have known that his brother would still continue to be simple-minded, even after all of these years. It didn’t come to him as a surprise; not really. In a way, it was almost relieving to know that his brother remained wholly the same - even after the intensity of the Training Programs.

“Did you get a chance to look at the ship?”

Edge whistled, sailing his hand out across his body in a dramatic flourish. “Bro, let me tell you…” He leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder against Spectre’s. “Just thinking about flying that ship is giving me a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe!”

He rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing his younger brother’s side. “Seriously? Come on.”

“I’m dead-ass serious, Bro. Like, holy shit, the Amaterasu is one sexy fuckin’ vessel.” Spectre watched a gleam sparkle in his younger brother’s eyes as he spoke. “She’s the newest hovercraft in the fleet and that baby was made for speed and destruction. I bet she could make it to The Fields and back before a Sentinel could even detect what actually happened.”

Spectre quipped a brow. “New stealth tech?”

He watched his brother nod emphatically. “Oh yeah, and then some.” He clapped his hands together. “I can’t wait to test that beauty out.”

Pulling out his computer, he looked over the ship’s diagnostics. There was some serious hardware put into the hovercraft. If the deployment of the Amaterasu was successful, the engineering crew would work on replicating the ship’s schematics for future hovercrafts. As exciting as that prospect was, Spectre couldn’t help but frown a little.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Amaterasu was a guinea pig ship. This would be the first time the crew would work together as a collective. Some were still fairly young, their minds “freed” but needing more time to mature. There was also the chance that they would all clash when it came to their personalities and work flow.

He barely got the sigh out of him before Edge wrapped an arm around his shoulder to pull him in close. “Hey, c’mon, Spectre! This is what we went through all that training for, right?” Edge winked at him. “Everything’ll be fine. Every single member of the crew is the best of the best of the best, right?”

Spectre nodded. “Yeah…”

“So there’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to be the talk of the entire fleet. Everyone in Zion is going to know our ship.” Edge laughed, causing Spectre to grin; his enthusiasm was infectious. “We’ll do great things, Bro. I know we will.”

Spectre ruffled his little brother’s hair. It brought him an overwhelming amount of relief to know that his younger brother had, in fact, barely changed at all. In a time where their future was bleak and uncertain, pure optimism was necessary. Hope was needed.

And he would do whatever he needed to do in order to ensure that that hope never died.

14 notes · View notes

theharrowing · 2 years

Text

Dollhouse

Hoseok's job is simple: He enters the host's body, he confiscates or terminates the target, and he gets back into his own body by dinnertime, easy peasy. Until a client comes along who becomes as obsessed with his life as he becomes with theirs, and the lines between their realities begin to blur.

💛 established Hoseok x Namjoon, established Jungkook x Yoongi, Hoseok x Namjoon x Yoongi x Jungkook, Hoseok x Taehyung x Jimin

💛 word count: 178.3k

💛 hired assassin au, sci-fi, established relationships, strangers to lovers, body swapping, graphic violence, infidelity, body dysphoria, smut, fluff, angst, poly, nsfw, smut, 21+

💛 warnings: assassins & hit men; mind meld; violence (murder; abduction; main character serious injury & healing); weapons (knives; guns; poison); emotional infidelity & actual infidelity; domestic fluff; Jungkook is trans; self-medication (binge drinking; recreational drug use - mdma & acid); smut (all of the characters switch. some top more in some relationships and some bottom more, but everyone switches enough that i cannot define their dynamics perfectly; oral sex & blowjobs; anal sex; daddy kink; dacryphilia/crying during sex; drunken confessions & a healthy game of spin the bottle; MMM threesome; MMMM foursome; learning to eat pussy; dubcon - consent under false pretenses; somewhat unhappy & unresolved ending; pretty heavy angst.

💛 notes: although real cities and occasionally neighborhoods are named, everything described is made up. similar likenesses with cities, buildings, etc. are a coincidence; i have never been to any of these cities and i am not making any attempt to accurately describe them.

💛 check out the playlist!

💛 series beta read by @neoneunnajimin

💛 posted jan 2022 - present | read on ao3

Welcome to Dollhouse! This has sci-fi elements dealing with shit that I am only pretending to understand, so please don't look into it too deep, okay? We're all here for the body swapping and selfcest.

INDEX:

1: Easy peasy | 2.5k words

2: I hope it makes me feel alive | 2.6k words

3: Your secret is safe with me | 2.9k words

4: Check in and recalibrate | 2.7k words

5: Miss me, baby? | 4.1k words

6: I need to have you | 3.7k words

7: Vines of guilt | 6.3k words

8: Two bottles of wine was a mistake | 6.8 words

9: Why can’t I stop this? | 4.4k words

10: We caught you—hook, line, and sinker | 5k words

11: On the contrary, we can do exactly as I wish | 4.4k words

12: A fantastic fucking waste of time | 5k words

13: I figured you’d become obsessed | 6.5k words

14: A tangle of bodies | 7.9k words

15: Care to make the first move? | 7.9k words

16: Everything slips away to black | 10.1k words

17: Good thing for confidentiality agreements, yeah? | 10.7k words

18: Namjooning | 10.7k words

19: Foolishness often is (poetic) | 6.8 words

20: Why is it always him? | 8.8k words

21: Everything feels too heavy | 9.7k words

22: No better way to break in a new body | 11.1k words

23: Difficult to reconcile | 7.6k words

24: Are you here alone? | 15.1k words

25: Chasing ghosts | 13.4k words

and this fic will end not with a bang but with a tiny sliver of hope.

tag list: @codeinebelle, @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @jminssiii @m1sss1mp, @mgthecat @moonleeai, @spookyminyunki ✨ comment or dm to be added to the tag list!

💛 image of hoseok & jungkook in the banner inspired by junji ito’s tomie.

#hoseok smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts poly #namseok #yoonkook #namseok smut #yoonkook smut #science fiction au #bts science fiction #fic: dollhouse

107 notes · View notes

yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

T H E T A K E O V E R - Prequel (A BTS FF Apocalypse AU)

The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world, now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world?

BTS Apocalypse Dystopian Invasion AU. Mystery Thriller. BTS member(s?) x reader / Namjoon x reader this chapter

Smut. PWsomeP for now, cause it gets crazy fast yall.

Warnings: military, guns, rough sex, public sex, exhibitionism, oral sex, role-play, overstimulation, breeding kink, size kink? strength kink? idk what kind of kink it is tbh but it’s kinky lol, someone smarter than me feel free to name them for me, y/n is kind of a masochist.

Word count: 3.2k

---

In the back of the military compound there was Bangtan Academy, home to the country’s best and brightest. That’s what your drill instructor kept telling you at least. You didn’t feel like the brightest, but you guessed even amongst the best of the best, there had to be someone at the bottom. That person was you.

You didn’t care, you could still hold your own with the other recruits in your class, and you never said no to a challenge, even if you were on a 134 losing streak, because Bangtan Academy was all that you knew. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t walk the iron halls, run laps around the military base’s field, or train day in and day out to become a top soldier.

So you knew every inch of The Academy like the back of your hand, and you knew all the places you could go where your drill instructor couldn’t bother you. That’s why you were on top of The Academy’s roof, sitting next to your classmate Namjoon.

Namjoon was everything you wished you were; savvy, book smart, strong, funny, popular. He was also second in your class. The rising star of your class, Namjoon was too smart for his own good. He found studying lessons he already understood boring, so you could always count on him to keep you company.

“Do you think they will snitch?” Namjoon gestures to the military guards at the South watch tower, who have a perfect view of you.

“Nah, that one guy looks like he’s more interested in his phone than busting a couple of recruits,” you smile, winking.

“Well,” Namjoon pushes your shoulder down so you’re lying on the concrete, rolling his body on top of yours, “Why don’t we give them a show?” He raises his eyebrows, sending you a dimpled smirk before pressing his lips to yours.

Namjoon was your friend, but he was also incredibly hot, and a huge hornball, and Bangtan Academy had a definite lack of female recruits. Many times, you were one of two females in a room full of men, and sometimes you were the only female there. So when whatever this new caveat to your relationship started with Namjoon, you figured it was out of convenience.

Even if you were stuck in a sea of testosterone, to your dismay most of the male recruits left you alone, no one wanted to fraternize with the lowest rank in their class. So of course you let Namjoon fuck you, no one else would! You and your friend had at least one thing in common, a very high sex drive.

You roll your hips up into his, suppressing a moan. You can already feel how hard Namjoon is between your legs, while he nibbles on the sensitive skin behind your ear. “Don’t leave any marks,” you mumble, “Drill Sergeant will kill me.” You shake Namjoon’s shoulders to get his attention.

God, why is he so built? All the recruits were in top physical condition, but your friend was something else entirely, tall and sturdy and full of muscle. You intended to push him away, but one feel of his hard muscles under your fingertips had you pulling him closer to you instead, earning a quiet chuckle from Namjoon against your neck as he ran his tongue along your skin.

Namjoon yanks your shirt up, exposing your bra. His arms snake around your waist, reaching for the clasp. “Don’t break this one this time, I’m running out of excuses,” you warn him.

Namjoon hums against your collarbone. He was always so rough, rougher than he probably intended. Your friend really didn’t understand his own strength. But you liked it, years of combat training made your pain tolerance high.

He pushes your loose bra up too now, exposing your bare chest to him, and starts to undo the buttons of your pants. He hovers over you with lust filled eyes studying the curves of your body, lips curved up as he silently watches how you twitch and shake under his fingertips. Watching him watch you made your stomach tighten and the center between your legs ache with need.

His dark eyes traveled the expanse of your skin like he was imagining all the steps he was going to take to conquer your body. Your friend was always planning, always one step ahead.

Setting his plan into action, he drops his body onto yours again, teeth and tongue grazing all over your exposed skin, his hands making quick work at pulling off your pants and underwear.

“We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open, what if someone finds us?” Your warnings are half-hearted and unconvincing. You whisper the words playfully, your half naked body only wrapping around his tighter.

“I don’t think anyone is willing to have that conversation with your dad,” he says playfully. Oh that’s right, you were the school’s Head Commander’s daughter. Your parents separated during your childhood and you’ve stayed at Bangtan Academy ever since. The cold isolated hallways were the only home you remembered, like the cold isolated man you called your father was the only family you had there for you.

You did visit your mother any chance you got, starved for her warmth, even if it was mostly directed at your step father and step siblings, even if she always looked at you with a mixture of sadness and uneasiness when you visited, she was always kind, kinder to you than your father.

“Can we not bring him up right now?” You tense under Namjoon, annoyed.

“Sorry, sorry,” he distracts you with kisses, hands pulling your legs back around him as he presses down into you. The distraction works, you warm up with Namjoon’s hard heavy body on yours. Your fingers run through the soft hairs on the back of his head, enjoying the tiny prickles they leave on the tips of your fingers.

Namjoon goes back to his mission at hand: making you scream his name. He trails kisses down your stomach, spreading your legs wider with his large hands so he can kiss the inside of your thighs. Your back arches from his soft touches, you’re used to roughness, pain, not this. This kind of touch makes your heart burst and the tips of your toes tingle.

His arms lock around your legs, pulling you down to his mouth. You feel his tongue, slippery and powerful, entering you, poking into your slit. It feels so good, you feel filled without any stretch or pain. He massages your inside walls with the wet muscle, making your toes curl against his back, Namjoon really is good at everything. You clench around his tongue, and he licks up and down your folds, drinking in your pleasure, tongue darting rapidly over your clit until you’re a shaking mess, and then he does it all over again.

When you look down, the sight is devastatingly erotic. His face buried deep in between your legs, but his eyes, dark and filled with lust never leaving your face. You shudder, bite you lip trying to silence yourself, but a soft moan escapes only spurring him on. His grip on you tightens, and he darts his tongue over you in the same way until you’re moaning louder.

You make the mistake of looking back at the watchtower, curiosity getting the better of you, and you see the two soldiers, binoculars pointed right at you. Oh shit.

“Namjoon, they’re watching!” you hiss, words broken by the moans he pulls out of you. Namjoon responds by pushing his face into you more. You let your head fall back. He’s not going to stop, and you don’t want him to. The soldiers already know you noticed them, so you turn your gaze back on them, you see the bulges in their pants, and your lips curl into a smirk. One of them adjusts himself, palming himself over his pants. You run your tongue over your teeth and wiggle your fingers in their direction.

Namjoon watches your display for the other soldiers, watches as you shamelessly push your elbows back instead of covering your naked chest, it made his dick throb in his pants, and as hot as he found you, he felt a pang of jealousy course through him too.

Namjoon brings your attention back on him, placing his lips around your sensitive hood and sucking hard. The abrupt sensation makes your legs shake as you yelp in pleasure and pain, your fingers digging into his muscled shoulders.

“Joon!” you moan. ‘That’s right,’ Namjoon thinks, it's his name that you’re moaning. His name leaving your pretty lips as he pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out while his tongue runs harsh licks into you. Your body shakes for him, your orgasm is his doing. Your frame tightens around his shoulders, every muscle in your body seizing in pleasure. You’re his.

He doesn’t pull away from you, even when you start to cry in overstimulation, even when your legs kick hard at his back, and your nails dig into his skin. Not until his lungs burn for air, only then he finally lets you go, heaving for breath.

Your body buzzes, you shake as electric currents of lingering pleasure pulse from your core and throughout your body. You lie there and you can only look up at the bright afternoon sky in a daze.

“Wow,” you laugh. Namjoon breaks into a bright smile, chin still slick from your essence, beaming down at you with pride. How can he be so achingly hot yet cute? You push away thoughts that have you imagining him as more than a friend, more than a quick fuck. The idea that someone like Namjoon would ever see you as a serious partner wasn’t a thought you entertained, it hurt too much to think of him rejecting your heart.

You do know he won’t reject you when it comes to this. You grab the front of his shirt, pull him down, and kiss him hard. Why is he still wearing clothes? You whine wordlessly into his mouth, tugging his shirt up. Namjoon gets the idea, hastily pulling it over his head. You can’t help but stare at the way his muscles jump as he flexes. You want to admire him more, but you know he’d probably tease you later on for it, so you work on unbuckling his belt.

You run your hand up and down his length, hard and big just like the rest of him. His lips cover yours again and you pant into each other's mouths. For now, you accept how much he wants you physically as enough.

Namjoon grabs your leg and pushes your calf to your shoulder, you wince at the stretch, still sore from yesterday’s combat training, and then he thrusts into you all at once, so hard and fast you have to cover your mouth to silence your screams. Namjoon is usually enthusiastic, but not like this. You wonder if he’s performing for your secret audience too.

You let Namjoon bend and use your body how he wanted, you’d let him do wherever the fuck he wanted to you after that mind-blowing orgasm, but he was simple in his desires, his hips pounding into you at a steady rhythm.

Your eyes wander to the South and he grabs your chin, keeping you to him, “Look at me, don’t look at them, are they fucking you or am I?”

You bite your lip, staring into his eyes, “You are fucking me, so good.”

He licks his lips and starts giving it to you harder, holding you down by the ankle. In front of teachers, your Namjoon was always calm and collected, working through different strategies until finally choosing the best option, taking his time with the simplest of tasks to ensure he had the best means of action. With you, he was feral. He and you didn’t have the luxury of time, so he let his urges control him instead.

He grabs your wrists with his free hand, holding them above your head. He places all his weight on you, and it’s a lot, you feel trapped against Namjoon’s hard frame. You rarely ever feel this way. You know a hundred different ways to escape a situation, but the way Namjoon has you, bent in a position that’s most pleasurable for him, there’s no escaping his brute strength filling you up completely.

It feels wrong to like it so much, the way he holds you down, slamming into you with wild abandonment. “You can’t cum inside me,” you moan.

“Why, you don’t want my babies?” He teases. He rolls his hips into you deep, and you tighten around him in response.

“You c-can’t...” you moan. This was part of one of Namjoon’s latest fantasies that you liked to play along, you and him both knew all the female recruits were required to take birth control.

“But you would look so good pregnant,” he groans, gazing down at the curves of your body, “with my child.” He ends the sentence with a harsh thrust. You throw your head back, letting your moans escape you freely.

You liked the sound of that too, enjoying the fantasy maybe a little too much. You thought about what having a family with Namjoon would look like, a cozy home with him and someone to give your love to. Finally you could have a real family. Maybe...maybe if you weren’t soldiers, maybe if he had feelings for you, maybe...

Your fingers graze the back of his hand, clinging onto this touch, and he releases your wrists and moves to intertwine your fingers with his instead, your leg pressing firmly against his shoulder, the new angle making you dizzy with pleasure.

“N-not inside, you c-cant.” You’re a horrible actress, gripping his hands tighter as he pounds into you.

“You don’t want it?” All you can do is moan. “Hmm? You don’t want me, baby?”

He speeds up, and you wonder how many bruises you’ll end up with this time, how many marks Namjoon will leave on your body, reminding you of the briefest moments when he was all yours. “I want-” you bite your lip as the whisper leaves your mouth in a moan.

“What do you want?” Namjoon brings your intertwined hands to his lips, “Say it.” I want you, you big dumb idiot. You can barely concentrate on anything other than the feeling of his length buried deep inside you.

“I want your cum...” The way he pistons into you has you seeing stars in the bright blue sky. “...please.”

“Fuuck,” he groans, his deep voice sending you closer and closer to the edge again. You can feel he’s close, the way his length hardens inside you, so you give him exactly what he wants.

“P-please, Namjoon, please,” you chant into his chest, leaving opened mouth kisses over his defined chest, tongue rolling over his nipple. He loves it when you beg for him, and he loves it when you do that. His hips stutter against you.

“Then take it, baby,” he moans. He stills against you, filling you up so much it starts to hurt. He finally rolls off you, using his shirt as a blanket to cover you. You hear faint whistling in the distance. You turn your head, giggling at him as he catches his breath. He laughs back.

---

Training today wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so sore from your secret rendezvous with your friend, but you guess it could be worse, you could be practicing running, but today your class was in the gymnasium pool.

You were running a series of drills in swimming, diving, and holding your breath underwater. You were grateful the swimming suit the academy provided you with was unisex, swimming trunks with an athletic shirt were given to both men and women, hiding the evidence Namjoon lefts all over your thighs. You catch his eyes above the heads of the other recruits, and his eyes crinkle in a smile. Your face burns remembering his body on top of yours and you quickly look away. You didn't see the way his eyes dimmed, hurt by your actions, but Namjoon was used to your aloofness.

Diving was your favorite, because you could hold your breath longer than almost all the other recruits. You never broke The Academy's record, held by a one Park Jimin, fourth in your class, but you came very close one time!

You’re currently staring at his delicate features under water, determined to beat his time. He sits cross legged at the bottom of the pool, eyes closed, paying you no attention. You have a tight hold on the clasp at the bottom of the pool that keeps you grounded, counting down the seconds you can swim for air. Every other cadet has already given up. But not you. You look up at the water’s surface. Usually you can see the outlines of your other classmates, but this time you don’t.

‘That’s odd...’ you think. You would signal for Jimin, but he looks intent on paying you no attention, so you swim over to him instead, using up precious energy. You lightly tap him on the shoulder and point up, he gives you a confused look.

Looks like you will just have to beat him next time, too bad it couldn’t have been today. You kick off the bottom of the pool. You break the surface of the water with Jimin right behind you. “What was that about?” He seems a little annoyed at you, but you’re paying him no attention. Your entire class is standing in a row at the windows, even your instructor. You hear the loud whining of a helicopter outside, it sounds close. You and Jimin exchange looks.

You and Jimin make your way out of the pool to join them. You cover yourself in a towel, shivering as you watch the strange sight.

Military aircraft after military aircraft land in the grassy plains surrounding your school. Large booming noises signal their approach as they land. Helicopters and their whirling turbines chop through the sky.

And then soldier after soldier descends out of the cabins, dressed from head to toe in black and carrying large weapons. The soldiers fill the compound, and then start advancing to your school.

What the hell? You look for Namjoon, but you don’t see him anywhere.

---

I always have a writing plan, and then Mr. Kim Namjoon posts a selfie and always destroys that for me lol. This is all his fault! Don't blame me! Anyways, enjoy this opening to my newest story, how did you like it? <3

#bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfiction #rm fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #bts apocalypse au #bts dystopian au #bts invasion au #bts fantasy au #bts science fiction au

260 notes · View notes