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mygloviesme · 7 months

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cool about it, eleven years later. || myg || story finale

no. 3 out of 3: i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 10.5k (yup)

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking (casual wine sipping), mentions of toxic ex, smut (missionary, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, praise? idk)

if you see any edit mistakes, no you don’t. it’s 5 am and I’m too eager to release this!

inspo song: xo by beyonce

"your face is all that i see, i give you everything"

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:46PM

It feels silly, us all being so much older and sleeping over in Jungkook’s hotel room. Although, it is a huge hotel room. Anyway, it feels like we're too old for sleepovers like this. Even Yoongi, who stayed quiet most of the car ride, groaned in annoyance. Shouting, ‘Why did I spend so much money on a nice hotel if I was just gonna sleep on a couch?’

But Jungkook insisted and so did a still-tipsy Jimin. Namjoon was pretty neutral like always. I think he’s secretly excited though. I’m not sure if I can say the same for Yoongi. I couldn’t stop glancing at him during the car ride, examining his quick-witted retorts to Namjoon like I remembered. We’d swap eye-contact every once in a while, though fleeting, sending shock waves down to my core every time. But, the dust (my non-stop adrenaline) luckily settled once we arrived at the luxurious building.

As we entered the room, an eager Jungkook races to his room, shuffling around to only come out with a set of clothes. And for a second, a brief moment, I swear he shrinks a couple inches. Like he’s as small as he was then. It’s not like I miss that version of him more because I can still feel he’s that boy in instances like these. But it’s nostalgic. “Here.” He says, handing me the stack.

The sweats are soft and gray and the shirt I can smell even from here. Like laundry detergent, the one with the teddy bear on it. They feel undoubtedly expensive.

“O-Okay, I’m just gonna change in the bathroom.” I say, Jungkook nodding and pointing to the direction it’s in. I follow his finger and approach the tall door, turning the handle to enter inside. It gives me time to call Keiko and gather my thoughts. It’s been a long night filled with all sorts of things I have to sit and think about before I get back out and deal with it again.

Maybe not the yelling and shouting that occurred, but the thick awkwardness of the fact that we’re still getting used to each other. Eleven years is too long and two days is too short to recount everything we missed from each other's lives. The clock is ticking and I’m not sure how to slow down time.

I place the clothes on the counter and reach inside my purse for my phone, opening my contacts to dial Keiko. Quickly. She picks up instantly like always. She’s great at that.

“Hey Koko, how’s everything going? Do you need a ride?”

I gulp, “N-No, I’m actually staying at their hotel tonight.”

I hear her freeze, “WHAT? You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not!” I whisper and cover my mouth to muffle my voice as much as I can. It would be another problem if they heard me gossiping about tonight. But I have to debrief with her, it’s what we do.

“What do you mean by their hotel?”

“Well it’s Jungkook’s, but everyone agreed to have a sleepover.”

“What the fuck. I wish I was there! Hook me up, dear god.” She whines.

I laugh loudly, slapping my hand over my mouth when I realize the echoing it caused.

“Shut up. Maybe. But anyway, I’ll be here.”

“So what’s gonna happen? You gonna snuggle up to Yoongi or what?” She says and I hear her eating on something. Probably the rocky-road she claimed to hate. Liar.

“No, I’m not. Definitely not. We got into it tonight. Bad.”

She gasps, “Tell me.”

I exhale softly, “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. But everything’s fine now. We made up.”

“You made up, really?” She says with doubt. Don’t sound so surprised, jeez.

“Sort of. But there is one thing I wanted to tell you. Jimin got drunk and before me and Yoongi had…argued or whatever, he said ‘Yoongi isn’t the only one hung up on you.’ Talking about Jungkook. Isn’t that…crazy? What do you think it means?”

She sighs, “You know what it means, Koko. What did you expect from the boy? You guys cuddled like, every night.”

“He told me he considered me to be a sister!” I whisper-shout into the phone.

“I mean at first, yeah. But a hot girl coming to stay with seven boys every night? Come on.”

My face falls flat, my voice monotone. “I wish you’d keep some thoughts to yourself.”

“Anyway, that sounds complicated. But you’re a new Koko, new and improved. You can deal with this, I know you can. And if you wanna bail just call me up and I’ll come get you. I’ll be up for a while.” She reassures me.

I smile, “Thanks, Keiko. Love you. I’ll see you later.”

I hang up the phone and set it down, placing my head on the counter to take a deep breath. My forehead sits on the cold marble as I try to ground myself, calm myself. I don’t want the events of tonight to tamper with me. I want to enjoy this.

It hurts to think that they’ll be leaving in a day. That this night and tomorrow will be transient, because I miss them. I miss them like hell. I miss their laughs, their arguing. Their warm company that never fails to aid my stubborn, sad heart. As I lift my head to look at myself in the mirror, I witness the time that’s passed. The unmistakable creases on my face that have evolved as I got older. I wish they were here to see them as they came to fruition. I wish they could’ve seen and witnessed all my milestones. How did time pass by so quickly? I could’ve gotten so many more moments with them if I hadn’t left.

So many birthdays, holidays, everything. It’s not guilt that I feel, not even mourning. It's aching for all the time that I lost with them. They’ve always been my chosen family. And with Yoongi, even now I hurt when I think of everything that could’ve happened between us. Even if we stayed friends. Even if we stayed friends.

I take a break from my feelings and put on the clothes Jungkook gave me in a hurry. I know I’ve spent an absurd amount of time in this bathroom, but I still hear them from behind this door. So I know they can’t be settling for bed already.

Tonight calls for a later bedtime. Although, I do have work tomorrow.

JULY 11TH, 2023, 1:34AM

We’ve shared a bottle of wine or two throughout this night. Chatting about my own stories this time. All the things I’ve gotten into while living in this big city. Some stories I keep for myself, unsure of whether they’re appropriate for this late-night banter. Like the time in my work bathroom with a colleague of mine. That’s definitely unimportant.

It isn’t long until Namjoon and Jungkook are calling it a night, surprisingly. I look at Yoongi who isn’t saying anything at all. Is he not going to bed? Should I say I’m calling it a night too just to avoid being alone with him?

I’ve wanted to talk with him ever since I saw him that night, but right now it scares me shitless.

“Kanako, you coming?” Jungkook asks me while carrying wine glasses to the sink. I revert from looking at Yoongi for reassurance, allowance, to stay back with him. I go with my gut.

“N-No, I think I’ll stick around for a while longer.” Jungkook darts his eyes from me to Yoongi, sucking in his teeth. Is he upset?

“Well you can sleep in my bed. The three of us are taking the floor. It’s a big room, so. You know. Hope that’s okay.” His voice drips with irritation. He’s obviously discontent with me staying with Yoongi. I’ll take care of that later.

“That’s okay with me.” I smile weakly.

He doesn’t necessarily listen to my response, instead turning his back to walk to the room. Namjoon and a sleepy Jimin bidding a good night before following suit.

I watch them leave, counting down the seconds until they’re out of sight. It’s easier if I act like I’m distracted by them instead of talking to Yoongi.

I grab the second bottle of wine that’s been opened by Jungkook earlier tonight, pouring myself another glass. Keeping busy. Still avoiding. I feel his eyes on me, though. I think he’s wondering if I’ll say something first. But to my surprise, he speaks.

His isolated voice sends chills down to my abdomen, echoing in this sleek lounge space. His voice has always been low, smooth. Perfect to listen to as you’re falling asleep. I remember that so vividly. Him whispering to me as we both drifted off to sleep, kissing my sleepy face. His affection was constant. I remember the relentless hands all over my body when he got the chance. Shit, what did he say?

I widen my eyes, “S-Sorry. What was that?”

He laughs and takes a sip of the dark red liquid, talking in the glass.

“So you and Keiko get along well?” He repeats.

I bob my head from side-to-side, “Something like that. I’m kidding. Yes. We got along great, she’s like my sister.” There’s a loud nervousness in me that he’s not reciprocating. His words are confident, curious. I’m not used to this. Is it bad that I’m so anxious around him? Those almond eyes look ethereal beside the glow of the city lights. He’s beautiful. I wish I could take a photo of him right now.

“That’s great.” He responds casually.

Silence.

I drink from my wine again, “Mmm- I listened to your solo album. It’s amazing.” I say, acting like the thought just came to mind.

He nods, “Thanks. It took a while to make but I’m happy with the outcome. And tour was good too.”

“Right! Tour! I saw photos.” I wince at how well I’ve been keeping up with all of their extracurriculars.

His eyes never break eye contact with me as he speaks, “What’d you think?”

I chortle nervously, “It looked really cool and thought-out. I think all of your songs are great.”

“All of them?”

Shit. The elephant in the room has stomped its way through the door.

“Y-Yeah. All of them.” I whisper, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass.

I want to ask, how many other songs are about me? And have you written as much about Aimee? But I’m too old to be spiteful. It’s making me gray faster.

His veiny fingers push through his long hair, falling perfectly back into place as he sets his hand down on the kitchen counter. It suits him so well. He looks so sophisticated, and it’s still so surreal that I’m in front of him once again. Just like an inevitability, like death (morbid, I know) I had weirdly accepted that I would never see them, him, ever again. Was that selfish of me?

The reechoing of stillness makes my mind wander towards the city that never sleeps. It’s especially louder tonight during the absence of either of our voices.

I hear the honking and bustling of city life, something that never gets old. I loved it when I first got here. It filled in the gaps of silence so I wouldn’t be forced to think so much when I was sleeping at night. When I’d be crying myself out of tears because of the long-haired man sitting beside me. I would think about the young kids, whose night was just starting. The people closing up shop, the babies being put to bed. It was easier to live outside of myself here. You can’t help but love everything around you. Even the sweaty summer and nasty rain and the smell of garbage that never leaves certain streets. It’s become my new home. Nothing like Korea or Japan. Maybe that’s the point.

As I sit next to Yoongi, someone who reminds me of the past loneliness I used to feel, it scares me again. I’m not sure if him turning out to be a complete stranger, or the same Yoongi I used to know, is better. It’s nice to know that after all this time he can still look at me like an equal. Like I didn’t abandon him. But do I want him to have completely forgotten about the girl I used to be? I did not prepare for this in therapy.

“I wish I had invited you to visit me.” I confess, staring off into the glass window behind him.

He looks at me softly, “I wish you did too. But I’m here now. We’re here now. It’s okay.” He says, and I have a feeling he’s talking about us two instead of all five. It’s consoling. And there it is again, that x-ray vision he has into my thoughts. Or am I being ridiculous once more?

“Is it?” My overthinking takes over. It was eleven years ago, yes. But it was hard, it was breaking. How could I not apologize, or even ask how I can make up for it? I have so much to say, but I await his answer instead.

He shifts, “It is. I’m sorry for…what I said at dinner. It was impulsive and not thought out. I should’ve known not to say that.”

My expression grows dejected. I feel like I should be the one apologizing, so I do.

“Don’t be sorry. At all. I mean– it had to come up either way. I know what I did must’ve affected you all. It affected me a lot. So, I’m sorry. For not reaching out, for leaving everything unsaid.”

His lips curl into a weak smile, “We were all young. We didn’t know the full extent of what you were going through, Kanako. All is forgiven, I promise. I’m just happy to be talking with you now.”

I nod slowly, partially accepting his forgiveness and willingness to move on. It’s hard to believe that’s all there is to it, but I want to believe him. I’m not going to blame myself for the feelings I had because of my failing career and abusive relationship, but I can feel guilt for not talking to them even after the healing. That’s what I thought was best for myself at the time, what would help me move on better.

And maybe it did in some ways, but I now know it just feels good, as well as other things, to be under the same roof as Yoongi again.

And between the beat of silence I get the confidence to ask, “So you and Aimee?”

He throws his head back with an amused smile, “Ah- no. I just ran into her that night and we kind of- kissed. Or something. But she’s way too young for me.”

I’m glad he feels comfortable enough to tell me, but it still stings just a little bit. But they’re not even together. All this overthinking only gave me more stress. Old habits die hard, I guess.

“I see. So you’re…”

“Single? You’re quite nosy, Kanako.”

With a slip of the tongue I say, “I love it when you say my name.” But yet, nothing about it is sensual. It’s like I’m dancing around a thought neither of us want to fully think about. There’s a line.

His gaze becomes gentler, “I know.”

God, he knows?

He grins at me before grabbing the bottle of wine to top off my glass, saying nothing. How could he just say that? It’s impossible to read him right now, which is something I would’ve never expected. If it was eleven years back, that is.

“I’m single.” He responds and sits back comfortably in his chair.

His words sound premeditated, like he knew I would ask. And he would answer. It seems the both of us are being a bit self-indulgent with our questions tonight. But the way he talks to me is seemingly affectionate. He’s no longer carrying me like water in his hands. I’m the glass he’s drinking in.

I still feel inexperienced, something he obviously isn’t anymore. I can’t leech onto anything to make me feel more at ease, not even his presence that radiates heat.

“And you? Were you being honest at dinner or do you have a secret boyfriend?” He teases.

“I’m not sure why I’d keep it a secret.” I laugh, “But no, no one. Just me and Keiko.”

He hums and peers around the room. “Like Jimin said, has there ever been…someone?”

I hesitate for a moment. “I was being painfully honest about that too. I’ve seen guys, I guess. But this city feels so small sometimes I think I’ve run out of options.” I inch my gaze towards him like I’m afraid to know the next answer, “You?” I ask.

“Sort of, yeah. One. I was twenty five and it was only for a year. I just got too busy and she got impatient with me, so we thought to just end it.”

“Was it hard?” I whisper.

“Yeah it was.” He chuckles and scratches the back of his with nervousness, “I loved her but…life just gets in the way. It’s annoying. I’m over it though.”

It feels so odd to talk to him about this. Would you call it exes bonding over exes? Or lack thereof on my part. But I’m glad he’s been loved. That he found that. It’s comforting to know about him, even if I wasn’t there. It hurts, but I’m putting maturity above my feelings.

“So-”

“I wanted to-”

We speak at the same time, sharing casual laughter soon after. I let him go first.

He puffs out, “Uh, I just– wanted to say that…I hope you didn’t feel offended. After I released those songs.” He says repentantly.

“Oh,” I tense up, “Not at all. Not at all. If you felt so musically inclined-”

“Shut up.”

“If you felt so musically inclined to, then I can’t blame you for it, right?”

He titters slightly, swiveling his drink. I can tell he’s relieved by the way his smize stays on his face, but there’s a disinclination to him as the seconds turn into minutes.

He taps his glass, “I meant every word, Kanako.” He says quietly.

There’s no need for repetition, I digest what he said like I’ve been starving for days.

I hang onto every word for what feels like hours, mouth slightly open before I can figure out what I’m going to say. I enjoy seeing him like this, honest. Vulnerable. I want to savor it. It’s sparking something inside of me that I thought had been shriveled into nothing.

“I know, Yoongi.” I make it sound like it’s about to end. This, all of this. Like the feelings we had, or have, are only being brought up in passing. But there’s nothing about this that I’m ready to finalize. I now know, ever since that time I left, that his love for me ran like the ocean. I was the combining waves to his body of water. It’s still there. Am I getting ahead of myself?

As we settle into each other's energy at this moment, it’s a shared realization that there is no fire we have to combat anymore. It’s a mutual source we both want to indulge in. Calm. It would be a lie if I said it wasn’t a stormier, thrashing feeling than I’d planned.

But it’s all the same.

His hand lingers face down on the wrap-around kitchen counter, begging for touch. I keep mine on my glass, not giving in just yet. It could either turn out to be embarrassing or something else I need to procrastinate from dealing with.

“Any other songs I should know about?” I joke.

His expression is stoic, “Most of them.”

My heart skips a couple beats. If I didn’t know any better I’d think I was going into cardiac arrest. With his body language it seems like he’s being completely serious. Completely, utterly serious.

He keeps his gaze on his hand, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I share his amusement with a bit of confusion.

He clenches his jaw.

“I think I’ll go crazy if you don’t touch me, Kanako.”

I’m stunned by his frankness, not being able to speak. Is it now that I’m suddenly at a loss? Why is it now I have nothing to say anymore? All the worry, the thoughts, the stress course through my veins pour out of me as he looks at me. His gaze can’t be more gentle, more loving. But there’s a neediness within him that’s seeping to me. I can’t deny him of that, or myself.

“Yoongi-”

“I need– I don’t even– I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I said that.”

“You don’t?” I ask, because the answer is obvious to me. I want to touch him too. I’m letting my childlike recklessness take over. There’s not one voice in my head saying ‘no’ louder than the ones saying ‘yes’. Yes, yes, yes.

“I don’t know where to start.” He whispers.

“I don’t know either.” I respond. Because the answer to that is obvious as well. It’s painfully, unfortunately obvious. We just want each other, that’s all there is to it. Why speak when we can forget it all? Maybe even start where we left off? That could never happen.

His hand strides over to my face in what feels like a quiet but grand gesture, leaning his body slowly into mine. It’s impulsive, rushed. We both have no idea what we’re doing and what this will lead to.

“Yoongi…” I breathe as he draws his lips closer to me. They’re so shiny, and I remember that cupid's bow so well. His mouth brushes over mine and before I can take another breath, he plants onto me softly. I’m almost too afraid to touch him, knowing it’ll make it all the more real. If I let myself enjoy this moment, will it go too far?

Will I expect things from him he won’t be able to give me? Because I can’t live another eleven years without him. Now that I’m tasting him again, I’m not sure how I even lasted.

It’s slow and his tongue speaks a language that makes the minimal space between us agonizing. Closer, wetter, sensual. It’s what I crave most as his mouth moves with mine in a deep rhythm. I feel the vibration of a low hum coming from this throat, causing me to release the tiniest moan only he could hear. His fingers are relentless with caresses to my jaw, neck, anywhere.

I keep my hands in his hair, diving into the soft strands that were once mine. I follow the natural growth and end up at his neck, tousling with the hair that almost reaches his shoulders. It was never this long, never this thick. Everything about him is pillowy and soft, so easy to get lost in. He’s eating me whole, and I let him.

But, there’s a familiar stinging of discomfort when I try enveloping him fully, something that tugs at my heartstrings. Telling me that this is all too much, it’s too painful. I can taste the spotting of wine in his saliva and can only think to pull away in a sudden movement. I need to click my heels to get back into reality, I need to go home.

“Kanako-” He whispers, caught off guard by my swift action.

“This is all too–I don’t know if I can do this.” I mutter breathlessly, my head still caught up in the moment we had a second ago, the feelings that are boiling to the surface. My insides are twisting and being turned inside out. This is not how I thought any of this would go.

“Don’t do that, not now.” He asserts.

I’m choking up now, the tears that live inside of me never fail to reset whenever I’m caught. But I know exactly what he’s referring to. No need to play dumb. He knew me then and he can recognize me now. Maybe not know me, not fully, but we’re intertwined together whether we like it or not. His eyes scan me, needing an answer. Don’t run away, they say.

“I’m not trying to,” My voice shakes, looking back into his gaze again. “I just–I still, I love you.” I say, like I’ve been holding it back since last night. Because I have, every inch of my body is regurgitating those words like they were never supposed to come up.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, causing me to get up from my seat and try to collect myself. I’m thinking he doesn’t love me back, how could he when it’s been so long? I’m so stupid.

He takes a short breath, “Of course I love you too, Kanako. How could I stop? How could I have ever stopped?” He says almost angrily. He’s frustrated with my need to escape him again. I can sense it.

“It’s been too long, we’re strangers.” I respond, fighting the idea that we could ever go back.

“We need to try. I need to. I couldn’t stop writing songs about you, I couldn’t stop hoping that one day I would find you again. It was never supposed to end that way. Don’t you think so too?” He pleads, his words come out in a blurt-like manner. He’s standing with me as well, his frame still a few inches above me like it was that time ago.

“And then what– everything just turns out perfectly? We all just live like nothing ever happened?” I shake my head in visible denial.

He takes a step closer to me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, but we can figure it out. Slowly, but it can happen. Unless you don’t want it to. I can respect that, Kanako. We don’t have to be romantic. Just don’t leave. Pick up my calls, write to me, visit. Anything. Just come back to me.” He whispers. He’s stripped any wall down that stood there previously. We’re now eye-to-eye, lips closening once again.

He’s magnetic. He’s my home. I’ve tried clicking my heels but I always end up back here, with him. Even if it was just in my dreams. But now he’s real, and how could I ever reject something that makes me feel this good? This loved?

And as he pulls me in once more, to kiss me once more, he says, “Let me in.”

So I’m now his, completely. I don’t feel spun around or twisted into nothing, I feel like his lips are the warm blanket wrapping around my aching body. His mouth aids my thoughts and his fingers ease my tense shoulders. I give in to him. He’s promised himself to me and pleaded that I come back to him. So I will. This time with no hesitation.

We’re underneath the roof that hides the night sky but as he holds me to lengthen our kiss, I feel like the stars are twinkling above our heads. Like there’s constellations brushing against my neck and the moon is only inches away. I move our bodies closer to the couch, Yoongi’s back now pressed up against it.

He takes my hint and swiftly walks around the gray fixture, taking my hands so I follow him. I turn to him and push his chest softly so he lays down on the plush cushions, his eyes following every single movement I make. He has this smile he always used to have whenever it was just us. Whenever I’d be above him, tugging at my shirt like I am now.

He sits up, placing his hands over mine that were about to take off my shirt. “Can I do it?” He whispers quietly, desperation leaking off every word. I nod slowly, feeling as he begins to peel off the thin fabric. His fingers brush over my stomach, causing a chill to run down my arms. He gives me goosebumps without having to do anything.

As he has my shirt fall down on the floor, he runs his hands down my stomach slowly, curling his knuckles into the band of my skirt. He shimmies the tight material down my thighs until it pools around my ankles, leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes carve out the small details of my body, my mind reeling every time he looked me up-and-down as if we were just two strangers ogling each other.

Although he’s seen me before, seen all of me, that version of me doesn’t exist anymore. I have new spots and scars and a good amount of weight that wasn’t there previously. It has me feeling a little self-conscious, hoping he isn’t disappointed. I don’t feel a need for his validation, but his reassurance.

“I don’t have my idol body anymore in case you couldn’t tell.” I joke sheepishly, dropping my head slightly to scan myself.

He pulls me in, having me straddle his now laying body. “You mean you don’t have the same body you did when you were eighteen? That’s normal and completely, totally fine with me. I want you how you are now.” He kisses my fingers individually as he speaks. I sigh into the softness of his lips as they plant on my fingertips, needing more of him.

I then jerk my hand from him playfully, a confused expression morphing on his face.

“I wanna see you now.” I say lowly.

He sets his arms above him like he’s waiting to be undressed which causes a small laugh from me. I lift his shirt off of him, crawling down his body awkwardly for his pants next. “This isn’t as sexy as I’d want it to be.” I mutter.

He chuckles, “But you look cute doing it.” He reaches over to pet my head, which I realize I liked more than I’d be able to admit.

I huff and yank the ankles of his pants to get it over with, once and for all. I let the piece of clothing fall down beside the couch and go back to where I was previously.

He hums, “As much as I like seeing you on top of me, I think we should do this properly. It is our first time, isn’t it?”

A smile extends on my face hearing him say those words, although we’re still doing it on a couch, it’s the effort that counts, right? So I abide, letting him sit up so we can trade places. I feel much younger again with the way everything is so airy. My first time with Haneul wasn’t as loving as I had once thought it was. Nothing about that relationship was loving, but it makes me happy to know that I could do this with Yoongi. As if it was a redo, after all those other men these past eleven years.

I’ve had good sex, don’t get me wrong. But never anything as intimate as this.

As Yoongi hovers over me, he leans down to press his lips against mine. We get back into what was happening earlier, desperately locking into each other. Filling any gaps of space, which resided into Yoongi sneakily sliding his knee between my thighs. There’s heat radiating off of my sensitivity, including a pooling of wetness as he grinds into me.

He looks so hot in his black boxers and I use his nearly nude body to my advantage, caressing his soft shoulders. Every part of his body is warm, it’s real. He’s real. His body has changed too. I can tell he’s been working out a little more. Which is never, ever a bad thing. I can’t get enough of him, bucking my hips into his knee further.

“I’ll give you what you want in a moment,” He teases as his lips part from mine. He kisses down my chin to my neck, licking softly on my collarbones. As his tongue lingers on my skin he lifts my back to unhook my bra almost seamlessly. It causes a gasp from me, feeling the cold air as it bites at my breasts suddenly. His fingers make circles on the sensitive area, teasing my hard nipples.

His mouth travels down my body but his hands stay on my chest until he’s reached the start of my underwear. I arch my back further when I feel his hot breath against my clothed heat, Yoongi pecking a kiss before he redirects his hands. “This okay?” He asks quietly while his hands play with each side of my panties.

“Yes, yes.” I whisper quickly. I need him so badly, his mouth, his tongue. I want him inside of me, most importantly. To know what he feels like on top of me. But I can wait, especially if that means he’ll mouth-fuck me first.

He slides down my underwear slowly, leaving me fully nude. My breath hitches when I feel his hands, quick to spread my legs. He urges me to throw a leg over the couch, so I do. This, I’m not as insecure about. Not when I’m so desperately needy.

His finger glides over the slit of my pussy, “Pretty Kanako. So wet for me. Is it? Just for me?”

I release a shaky breath from my throat, nodding slowly.

“Let me hear you, pretty. Tell me it’s just for me.”

He’s making an absolute puddle of me, literally and metaphorically. Feeling my secretion dripping down to his already drenched finger that’s barely touched me. “Just for you. All for you.” I whine.

My hips stutter against Yoongi’s curious mouth, “That’s my pretty baby,” He purrs. He lets his tongue sliver to my opening, flattening the center and licking me slowly.

“Oh– god,” I choke out, feeling his lips suction around my clit and tugging at it teasingly.

His mouth releases in a quiet pop– delving back into his previous motions. His tongue shamelessly digs into me, my wet mess painting his chin erotically. He hums into my pussy with devious intent, knowing the vibrations of his velvety voice would send me into a spiral.

– And it does, my hands trying to grab into anything I could to contain myself. I had to remember we were doing this with three people in the next room over, unfortunately. The only time I didn’t want those boys in the same presence as me.

I try to whisper a ‘f-faster’ but all that escapes is a sigh. I think he understands because before I know it, he uses his fingers to spread me open, covered in my slick. His eyes dart to mine, looking into me as he plants his tongue on my vulnerable clit. My brows furrow and my mouth forms a quiet whimper, feeling him burying his face into me.

My cheeks are burning with a dark red, sweat forming at my forehead. The sight of his moppy hair and bare skin tugging at my thighs is enough to make me want to call it. I need to know how it’d feel to have all inches of his length in me. I remember how big he was– how much I would’ve given to have him tear me open then. And now the moment is so close, including my approaching orgasm.

His tongue is greedy– and if I didn’t know any better I’d assume this act was for himself. How much he’s sucking and licking me clean, making sure I'm trembling– he loves this.

“I c-can’t come yet– I need you..” I complain as my body says otherwise.

He lifts his head to stop, making sure to replace his tongue with his thumb to play with my clit instead. “You sure? My Kanako doesn’t want to come all over my face? Because I know how much you loved it then.” He retorts. It��s hard to wrap my mind around having a normal conversation in the midst of my shaky legs and swollen clit, so I speak, although foggily.

I place my wrist on my forehead, “I-I do, but I need you inside me. Please.” I plead breathlessly.

His thumb stops and he travels to my upper body slowly, not bothering wiping the glossy slick that’s smeared on his face. Instead he rushes for a kiss, all forms of fluids being swapped between our mouths. “My needy girl.” He taunts with a smirk on his face.

His hands travel to his boxers, taking them off swiftly. My wandering eyes still lock on his lengthy dick, seeing it bounce straight up due to how hard he’s become. There’s a familiar liquid that has the head glistening– precum. He gulps as his eyes look back to my body, hot and swollen. I’m a mess for him, I’m utterly open for him. My fingers trickle down to my saturated pussy, circling my clit to provoke him.

His fingers grip his cock, pumping slowly as he stares at me playing with myself. He’s set in stone, groaning at the scene before him.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He mutters, making gentle eye contact with me. I smile warmly as a thank you, feeling him line his cock against my opening. He pushes in enough to where the tip is fully in, moving his hands so they’re on both sides of me.

I grab a handful of his hair, bringing his head into the nape of my neck as he makes his first thrust. I let out a gasp that echoes throughout the lounge room when his thrusts become two, three, until he’s created a slow rhythm to ease us both into it. Kanako, pretty pretty Kanako. I love you so much, love being inside you, he moans into my skin.

As pleasure cases him in a haze, his movements speak for him, his cock twitching with every inch he buries into me. I’ve hit the point where I’m beyond words, just spiraling into the mess he’s created of me. All that’s coming out is pitiful whimpers as my hands grip at his hair and back.

“Y-You’re tightening around my c-cock, you know that?” He moans in disbelief. He removes his head from my neck to sit up right, continuing to pump into me. They’re growing faster by the second but by his sultry eyes I can tell he wants to savor every moment of this. I take in the crevices that outline his skin. The soft muscles around his stomach and his veiny hands that are holding steady on my stomach.

He’s focused on pushing himself further into me, wanting to fill up my insides with as much of his cock as he can. He slips a hand to my ankle that’s resting over the couch, placing it on his shoulder to gain more momentum. My head brushes the arm of the couch as he fastens his pace, watching as he bites his lip. “You look so good underneath me, baby. Keep your eyes on me– wanna see how you look taking all of me,” And so I do, enjoying every single second of my view of him ramming into me like he knows nothing else.

His thumb climbs back over to my clit, rubbing it gently to induce an orgasm from me. I can only assume he’s close, seeing his mouth agape and his thrusts becoming pounds. He’s hitting that spot inside me repeatedly, the overstimulation making me forget about how quiet I’m supposed to be.

“Yoongi…yoongi…fuck-!” His name rolls off my tongue effortlessly.

“Give it to me, pretty. Cover my dick in your cum, please,” He grunts quietly, leaning his head back with elation.

His sweaty bangs hang over his reddened face as he pumps into me in-and-out like clockwork. I watch him clench his jaw, his hold on my calf becoming tighter as his body reaches closer and closer to release. I tighten around him as the thumb he has pressed against my clit becomes too much to bear, tears pricking my eyes. “Yoongi, please–” I whimper loudly, digging my hands into his back.

He groans behind his teeth– snapping his hips to pump into my slick heat, our fluids conjoining together, making his dick glisten with a foggy whiteness. I shut my eyes quickly and let the sensations take over, a rush of warmth starting from my toes to my head.

It makes me hazy in every sense of the word, high off the feeling of his dick hitting my sensitive spot over and over again— whilst he simultaneously circles my swollen clit with the pad of his thumb.

“O-Oh shit–” I moan, my legs nearly going limp underneath him. I feel Yoongi slide his cock out,

grabbing a fistful of my hair to bring my face up to his dick. “Open f-for me, baby,” He demands, and I do so, having him stuff my mouth full of his length.

I place my hands on his hips and stroke him with my tongue, suctioning his hard cock.

“God– fuck!” He moans, tugging at my hair as he paints the inside of my mouth with white. I don’t let go from my grip on his skin, bobbing my head into him to stretch out his orgasm as much as I can. We’re both as tired as can be but watching him from below like this, seeing him unravel, is all I need to keep going.

“Baby– baby…” He cooes as he glides his length from my mouth, collapsing from his knees and pressing his forehead against mine– breathing heavily. He grabs my face with his hands and kisses my mouth lazily, “My Kanako…I love you,” He whispers, moving his lips to scatter pecks all over my face.

“I love you, Yoongi. I love you so much.” I reply lazily, succumbing to his sloppy kisses. He holds me like this for moments on end, forehead pressed against mine. We share each other's air as our chests move fast, heavy. I can see his tired state and yet– he’s unable to let go of me. Breathing me in as I am him, not wanting to end this just yet.

But of course there seems to be always something, especially when it comes to the fact we just had sex on this hotel couch. Nice hotel couch, ‘kay?

“What the actual fuck.” The moment is interrupted, like a dumbbell being dropped on a glass coffee table. I’m struck with the deepest sense of horror and embarrassment, reality hitting me hard and fast. Jungkook is stood there, boxers only, rubbing his eyes as he stares at me and Yoongi. We’re both covered in sex and must smell like it too– Yoongi grabbing a pillow to throw over me.

“Jungkook, this is– it’s-” Yoongi starts, but the young boy cuts him off.

“You guys are really…” He trails off in his scratchy-sleep voice.

I furrow my brows angrily, so many feelings being present at once.

“Just- let me get dressed and we can talk about this.” I urge him, darting my eyes around to emphasize the current situation. My naked body, Yoongi’s now soft dick, and a messy couch.

Jungkook shakes his head and goes back into his room to get dressed as well, is what I choose to assume. The door shuts quietly and I turn to Yoongi– my eyes wide. “Fuck. Fuck.” I whisper yell at him.

“I’m sorry, I know-”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Kanako, he’s older now. He isn’t fifteen anymore, don’t you think he can handle it?” Yoongi questions. I bite my lip and pick up my clothes from the floor, deciding to put Yoongi's bigger shirt on instead of my tight one. I don’t bother snapping my bra back on– too much work.

I answer while changing, “There’s other conflicts at hand. I think you know what they are.” I respond. Yoongi grows faint, only nodding.

As I struggle to put on my skirt I decide to leave it off, knowing the baggier top will cover whatever my underwear can’t. “Just let me talk to him. I’ll be back. Tell him to meet me out there.” I say evenly, pointing my gaze to the balcony.

Yoongi sighs in acceptance and plants a kiss on my forehead, “As long as you come back.”

JULY 11TH, 2023, 3:30AM

I stand on the balcony, arms resting on the railing. There couldn’t be anything more nostalgic than standing out here. Under the stars in this summer air. Reminds me of all those good and bad moments I had in their dorms. This would be the perfect way to end this night– if it wasn’t for what just happened.

I hear Jungkook behind me, his hand closing the sliding door. “Hey.” He mutters.

“Jungkook…” I say almost immediately, needing to hash whatever it is to come.

“You know it’s funny,” He shifts, walking next to me with his hands stuffed in his pockets.“When I got here at first, I didn’t even know it had a balcony. It’s covered behind those curtains, but I felt drawn to it. So I opened them and discovered this. You were the first thing I thought of when I got out here.”

“Really?” I ask, entertaining the sudden change in topic. If it keeps me from having to talk about what he walked into, I’ll gladly do so.

“Kanako, you pop up into my head at least once a day.”

“For the past eleven years?”

His mouth stutters before he speaks, “Never skipped a day. I…don’t think any of us went a full twenty-four hours without thinking of you.”

I whisper a small ‘oh’, looking at him fondly. The night sky shadows his face perfectly, following the curvature of his nose to his lips. That lip ring, I can’t deny it looks great on him. My eyes

can’t help but trail to the sleeve on his arm, scattered in permanent ink. I crave for the mutuality we had before. But I don’t regret doing what I did with Yoongi, even if it makes me selfish.

“What about you?” He meets my eyes, “Did you ever think about me?”

I ache at his voice, hearing him ask that. Like he should know. He needs to know.

“Every day.” I confess easily. I’ve been needing to say that. “I’m sorry I didn’t call…or-or pick up. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t…” My voice gets shaky and my throat gets caught.

He wraps his arm around me casually, like he used to before. This time it’s able to loop around my shoulder fully, and it covers more. It’s solid and warm, comforting.

“I forgive you.” He says, placing a kiss on my head. I nuzzle into his embrace, accepting the forgiveness I don’t think I deserve. Maybe I will one day, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for everything I lost.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” I smile, persevering through the stinging that’s currently ripping me in two. A beat of silence floats above us, but it isn’t unwanted. It’s singing softly, like background music. I settle into the darkness of the sky, enjoying the feeling of having him here again.

I always dreamt about this. About seeing them, him, Yoongi, all over again. I’m so content. But still, there’s a question. Undeclared queries my mind is aching to figure out the answer to.

“Jungkook–”

“I know.”

“But-”

“I’ll get over it.”

He sucks in his teeth, nodding as if accepting his fate. I shake my head and separate my body from his. He looks at me like I’m being difficult, “Kanako, let’s not do this.” He argues.

I bite the inside of my cheek, “I can’t…be truly happy with Yoongi if you’re in pain. It’s not fair.”

His expression softens. It’s almost like he’s the eldest, the one to talk me down. It makes me devastated to see him take on this role. The bigger person, the mature one.

“I can’t be truly happy if you’re not. I love you, so that means I want the best for you. I-I would’ve fought for you. I could’ve. God Kanako– the things I would’ve done to have you–” He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his messy hair, “But you’ve never been mine.” He finishes, pupil’s still focused on me.

You’ve never been mine. Those words pain me, thinking of what he must’ve felt through all of this. The heartbreak, the loss, and now the rejection. If only I could feel what he felt, if I could aid his pain in some way. The thought of giving up Yoongi for Jungkook is not at all an easy one, not one I’d choose in this lifetime. The boy was never that to me. if I could be two different people, just so he could have a part of me in the way he wants, I would.

But that’s not possible. It never will be.

I exhale heavily, processing everything he’s just said. Everything that’s happened the past few hours.

“How did it even come to that? The last thing I remember…” I whisper.

“It wasn’t until you were gone, like really really gone, Kanako. I was just a kid, I didn’t know what those feelings were. How I felt about…a life with you. One that was different than I initially thought. And when I finally did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I needed to talk to you, to know if that could ever happen.”

“Is that why? You called for-for months?”

He looks down, “Towards the end, yeah. Until it was clear that you didn’t want to be…known anymore. I know different now, obviously. But, it broke me. I was so angry that every girl I was ever with was compared to you. Every girl I wanted was just a replica of you. I mean– whatever. It’s…whatever.” He shrugs and shifts his gaze back to the streets before us.

I peer my head over to him, “I’m sorry, Jungkook. I’m so sorry. I wish…that I could-”

“Don’t do that to me, Kanako. Please.” He mutters, still refusing my direction.

I reach my finger for his chin, tilting it towards me. There’s watery tears pooling his eyes, making me crumble at the sight. I would do anything to heal his hurt, to make this all the easier. But would it be selfish of me to choose Yoongi? There is no other option for me, besides no one at all.

I don’t love Jungkook the way he wants me to, I don’t think I ever could. He holds a big piece of my heart, one made especially for him. He fits into the crevice so perfectly, but the space for anything more is nonexistent. I could never kiss him the way I do Yoongi, never look at him like a lover. He’s my Jungkook. While Yoongi holds the position of soulmate, Jungkook is my twin flame. Connected by familiarity and nostalgia, everything that has to do with the word ‘home.’

He smiles, the one he does where I can see his two front teeth. He’s back.

“I won’t. Just stay by our side again, okay?” He says, though I know through layers of pain.

He almost jumps at me– bringing me in for a tight hug. I go on my tip-toes slightly to rest my chin on his shoulder, surrendering all my tension into his arms. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay, Kookie.”

He hums and rocks me slightly, from side-to-side. I reach my hand over his arm to wipe the small drops that were close to running down my face. This time, and maybe one of the firsts, the tears being happy ones. Pure, indescribable bliss runs through my body like clear river water, knowing I’m back with them for good.

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right? We can go to breakfast and maybe some art galleries?” Jungkook sniffles, parting from the hug.

I sigh whilst my body cringes, thinking of work. Fuck.

“I have to go to work tomorrow, my boss needs me to review some stuff.” I whine, showing my blatant annoyance.

He frowns, “You can’t call out?”

I puff out, placing my hands on my hips. “Jungkook.”

“Sorry, sorry. That’s okay, I suppose. But you’ll make it to visit us before our flight? It’s at 6 pm, but you can see us at four-thirtyish, before we head out so you’re not caught by paparazzi or something.”

I nod quickly, “Yes, absolutely. I can do that.”

Some quietness passes, he shuffles his feet awkwardly.

“What?” I squint, confused.

“Well, what about…after? Will we hear from you? WIll you…visit?” He mumbles coherently enough to where I can understand. I hesitate, but only for a millisecond. I’m sure of it now, all of it. I won’t run away. Not when it’s good for me. And they’re good for me.

A part of me flickers thinking of Korea again. But I think it’ll look different, feel different. I’m embracing the old Kanako as much as the new one. If anything, I’m excited to experience it as the person I am now. See it in a different lens. Maybe I’ll visit the Han River again, ride bikes with Namjoon and have picnics with Yoongi.

And most importantly, I know my mothers spirit resides there. She isn’t a ghost to me anymore, something I’m afraid of. Keiko’s made it easier to celebrate her. I can do that again. With them.

I reassure the young boy, “I’ll call, text, send letters, and facetime. And…maybe I’ll stop by for a visit or two. Possibly stay at your place?” I bite my lip, staring up to him teasingly. Knowing he’ll definitely like the idea of me sleeping over like all those times before.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, “Sure, yeah. Whatever. You’re gonna have to tell Yoongi that he’s gonna have to split the time up…or we’ll just share the bed again.”

“I’m nearly thirty, Jungkook. I can’t do that.”

He pouts.

I roll my eyes in response, “Ok. Maybe.”

The sliding door opens once more, a now-dressed Yoongi peering from inside. Jungkook tenses just a bit, not saying anything as he enters.

“Everything..okay?” Yoongi asks, folding his arms to protect himself from the slight cold that lingers.

I smile at Jungkook who in turn eases back up.

“I was actually just telling Jungkook,” I turn back to Yoongi, “That I’ll be visiting you guys before you head off for the airport. Work and stuff.” I finish. Jungkook nods in agreement, shoving me playfully. “Tell him what else.” He whispers.

I suck in a breath, “Andddd, I’ll be visiting you soon. In Korea. So don’t get sick of me just yet.”

He follows to where me and Jungkook are, placing his elbows on the balcony railing. We all look at each other fondly, taking mental pictures of this moment.

Yoongi exhales, “If you're the one taking care of me, I hope I get sick all the time.”

Jungkook cringes, “That was so bad, hyung.”

JULY 11TH, 2023, 4:27PM

There’s been many times throughout my work day that I’ve fallen asleep. If it wasn’t for this day being especially busy, I would’ve passed out on my desk. But everything in me was fighting to stay conscious. Not because I was needed, but because of the boys.

Embarrassingly so, they were my main priority of the day. I made sure I got everything done just in time to clock out early, rushing to gather my things and speeding out the door.

Now I sit in an Uber in the middle of traffic. The hotel they’re staying at is ten minutes away by car but fifteen minutes on foot. I bounce my leg anxiously as I dart my gaze from my phone to the busy road. The minutes are passing quickly and I can’t seem to slow time down.

“Five o’clock traffic, right?” The driver laughs, tapping the wheel to the song that’s playing on the radio.

My brows are furrowed and I’m biting my lip, hard. Ignoring whatever the man at the front said when my thoughts become deafening.

Shit. I have no choice.

It’s already four-thirty, so I grip the door handle and apologize profusely.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll pay you for the full thing! Bye!” I exclaim, opening the door. I grab my bag and throw it over my body, cross-bodying it. I look down to my sneakers that I swapped out before I left for work, thanking God I didn’t forget my usual routine. New York is the most walk-able, non-walk-able city to ever exist. You always need a pair of these if you are gonna go anywhere. Or, suffer for the intention of beauty. That, I’ve done plenty.

Anyway, I start running. Full on sprinting. I know starting off with such speed will only tire myself out. But, I need to get there on time. I can’t have them thinking I’m bailing on them. As I pass the confused, scared people I grow to be beyond shame at this point.

I throw my hands over my breasts to keep them still, again, beyond shame. I pass by stores, outlets, apartments, and this run is probably the most cardio I’ve done since my idol days. I can see the entrance of the hotel inching closer, yet I have so many crosswalks I still need to pass.

One by one I wait every single time. Safety first?

I’m a heavy-breathing, sweaty-hairline mess by the time I’ve met with the last crosswalk. There’s already paparazzi hiding behind cars and bushes, ready to sneakily snapshot the moment those boys leave the building.

I have to think fast as I approach the hotel, not knowing how I could possibly hide my face. I could not, in any shape or form, have my face back in the tabloids connected to BTS’s name. There’s already enough of that in the news now, considering the release of their book.

I did snoop around during my lunch break, seeing old photos that somehow leaked. Ones where I know staff took them, which is disappointing knowing they probably turned those in just for a couple hundred bucks. It’s nothing defaming to the boys or me, just private moments I wish had stayed private.

So, my name is already circulating around. I dig in my bag for an old face mask that’s been there for months, probably. I throw it on my face and release my hair from my ponytail, attempting to hide as much of my features as I can.

I take a deep breath as I begin the pathway to the hotel doors. I attempt to look as casual as I can, passing the paparazzi as a regular city-goer. Just a very rich woman who is always staying at this hotel, nothing to see. Nothing to notice.

I reach my hand for the door handle until it bursts open, knocking me to the ground suddenly. Namjoon stands with luggage in hand, stunned and apologizing profusely before really understanding what just happened. I too am confused, rubbing my butt in pain and the brightest red shading my cheeks. I just got knocked down in front of all these paparazzi, and as I see Jimin my eyes widen when he shouts loudly, “KANAKO! NAMJOON, YOU IDIOT!”

The blonde, leather-jacketed man drops his suitcase to run to my rescue, helping me from the ground. The snapshots of cameras become faster, flashier, seeing the very popular star assisting the woman they now know as Kanako Fujishima.

The retired, scandalous idol.

Jungkook and Yoongi are close behind, witnessing the sight of my disheveled state.

JK splits through Joon and Jimin, “Kanako, we thought you couldn’t make it!” He exclaims, hugging me even with the prowling eyes.

I hold him firmly, warmly. Feeling relief knowing I could still see them off.

“I jumped out of my Uber to be here if that tells you anything. I had to see you guys before you left, you know.” I smile through my teeth as I speak.

Yoongi peers from Jungkook's broad shoulders in a baggy white button-up, paired with even baggier black sweats. He looks amazing even with such little effort, and I couldn’t be happier to see his face.

The events of last night rush past the walls of my mind, having to push them down if I was ever wanting to speak normally again. I attempt to not become a stuttering mess, feeling like a nervous mess with a school crush.

“Hi Yoon.” We share a breathy laugh before he pulls me in his arms as well.

“You’ve never called me that before.” He says, his embrace making all of my surroundings suddenly melt into the back of my mind.

The cameras haven’t halted their flashing and I try not to picture the headlines in my head when I hear them, overlapping one another.

He pulls away from me, taking a risky hand to caress my face. Pulling the face mask off my face, he tucks it into his pocket.

“Yoongi, there’s people–”

“I know.”

He eyes my lips in a swift move before dipping his head to kiss me. His cupid bow lines perfectly with mine, moving in a soft flow. It’s nothing ostentatious by any means, not even heated. It’s short and enough to say something, but not shout it.

I’m the first to break the kiss in an anxiety-induced cloud, looking at him, my expression completely bewildered.

“So…” I say in one breath, pursing my mouth in an even line. I look around to the gawking pedestrians and then to Yoongi, who’s enamored…by me? He has an uncomplicated gleam in his eyes that isn’t fading. His hand drops to his side, head nodding to the paparazzi.

“They don’t matter to me, just you. I love you, Kanako.” He states, his sure gaze pressing into my unraveled smile.

“I love you. I love you,” I repeat, giving him one last kiss before grabbing his suitcase to hand to him.

He accepts it hesitantly, brushing our hands together. The boys taking that as the cue to start moving into the car. They all give me more hugs, more temporary good-byes as they step inside the shiny, black vehicle.

It’s bittersweet, seeing them getting ready to leave. Bitter because I can’t wait to see them, him, again.

But sweet because I know I will see them again. I’m strong enough now. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I’ll be on the next flight to Seoul as soon as I’m able to. And who knows? Maybe I’ll gain the courage to relocate. Perhaps Keiko and I can use a change of scenery. She’s never been to South Korea, and I know with her and the boys by my side, I’ll soothe into it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m too excited not to.

Before Yoongi enters the car he turns to me, giving me a gummy smile that buzzes through my body instantaneously.

“I’ll see you back home.” He says.

click here to start from the beginning!

an: holy shit you guys. this has been so healing and so fun for me to write this past month. seeing this community of people enjoy my writing has been so extremely eye-opening and crazy since this has always been a passion of mine! thank you, thank you, thank you for tuning into to all chapters of cool about it! and to readers who are joining after it’s all finished, thank you too for keeping it alive!

im thinking about doing little drabbles or one-shots here and there (of all the members bc ot7) as well so stay tuned for that!

don’t get sick of me just yet!

love you all. thank you.

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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

Text

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: YoongixReader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated.

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—”

Your voice wavered, what were you—

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out.

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower.

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy?

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed.

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed.

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.”

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer.

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth.

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you.

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated.

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable.

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly. And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious.

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?”

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost.

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward.

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked.

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last.

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar.

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #update #ao3 fanfic #SX Seoul #writing wip #min yoongi #bts suga #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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yuyu1024 · 4 months

Text

Escape

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.8k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: continuation of Prisoner.

I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.

(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)

***

Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.

Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.

At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.

But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.

"Excuse me?"

You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.

"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.

"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks

"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest

She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."

You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.

"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."

"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."

"It's fine. I understand."

She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.

"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."

As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.

You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.

You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.

Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.

"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past

"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."

She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."

Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.

'Is she an ex of his?'

'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'

I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.

Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.

"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.

"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"

You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.

You turn around immediately before she could response again.

This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.

You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.

You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.

You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.

"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.

"How... do you know who I am?"

He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass

"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"

He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."

"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"

"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"

You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.

He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.

1. Don't cut your hair short

2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him

3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard

4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)

5. Use the safeword during sex

And etc.

The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.

"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.

After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.

As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.

Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?

These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.

They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.

Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?

Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.

"What are you doing here?"

Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.

He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.

You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?

"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up

"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.

"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.

"You know... you can't drink."

"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly

"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."

Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.

Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.

"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds

Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.

Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.

"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.

That was it?

"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.

"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.

Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.

"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him

***

"Get in." He orders you

Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.

"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.

"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.

We are now isolated.

He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.

"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say

He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."

Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?

Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.

This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.

"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."

"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."

He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.

"Wait..."

He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.

"I'm sorry..."

"What for?" He asks

"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper

Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.

"He might hear us..." you whisper

"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.

***

After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.

"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."

They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.

"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.

Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.

"Y/n..."

You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.

"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"

"Why?"

He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.

"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.

Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.

Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.

"Aren't you getting in?"

You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.

"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.

After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.

Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders

"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.

"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."

"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.

'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.

"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes

You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.

*pings*

The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.

"Where are you going?" He asks

"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."

"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.

"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.

"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.

"W-what? Why?"

He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.

"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.

"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"

Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."

***

[Flashback to Yoongi's side]

(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)

Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.

However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.

"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.

"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.

"I see."

One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.

"Look who's here."

"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.

"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"

"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.

"It is, Sir. By--"

"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."

"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."

She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.

"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."

You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.

"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."

You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.

You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.

Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.

"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."

[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]

*************

"Miss..."

Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.

"Miss..."

You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.

"It's noon Miss..."

"Oh."

It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.

You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.

"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."

"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble

"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.

"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."

"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.

"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave

"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."

"Sure."

You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.

What happened? You don't know.

The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.

Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.

When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.

And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.

"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.

"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.

"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged

He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.

"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"

"Y-yes..."

"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."

"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.

His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.

"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.

You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.

"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.

And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.

It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.

And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.

You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.

"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.

You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.

"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"

You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?

After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.

How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.

"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."

*********

"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.

Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.

"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.

"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie

All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.

"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."

Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"

"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."

"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.

"Twenty."

"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."

"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.

"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."

He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.

"Understood." The man replies

"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks

"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.

"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.

"Nothing, Sir."

"Just spit it out."

The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice

And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.

"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."

"So? What's your point?"

"It's just lately...."

Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.

"What are you implying? Just... say it."

Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."

"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.

*****

"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.

To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.

You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.

"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"

You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer

"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.

"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."

She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.

You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.

It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.

"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.

"The middle one." You says.

You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.

"Ahm, Miss...?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"

"Hmm... what did he say?"

"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."

"Did he say if he wants to see me?"

The maid didn't answer.

"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."

"Understood." She bows and exists the room.

"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."

Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.

"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."

Part 3 - Twilight

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mggsv · 1 month

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WIFE !

Min Yoongi x black!f reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated! <3

warnings: role play, Yoongi is called “Suga” or “Agust” throughout the story, mascara, crying, hair pulling, dom!yoongi, reader has locs, edging, degrading, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), using a safe word!, praise, soft ending.

“Tell me something,” he murmurs, “the fuck are you good for hm?” He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly before staring into your almond shaped brown ones.

“You can’t cook, cleanings fine- but you suck with kids.” Your eyes water, gasping slightly. “You can’t be a good mafia wife if you can’t understand half the shit that goes on.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Seems like the only thing you’re good at is taking dick, am I right?”

The pink head of his cock pop’s out of your mouth, spit alongside your mouth as you panted. Fat, black tears seeped from the side of your eyes. Suga sighed once more, cock twitching at the sight. A fucking mess you were. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His leaking tip rubbed against your plump lips, your lip gloss mixing with the cum. All Suga could do was smirk. He enjoyed it. “Yes..yes sir.” You whimpered. Your cunt throbbed around the toy he had inside of you and you hated it. He knew just how needy you were after all.

“If that were the case..should I have married you?” His ring covered fingers reached down to stroke your cheek, wiping the tears from your face, mascara ruined. “A whore could do the same.” His hand found your locs, put up in a cute ponytail with a pink ribbon, and pulled your head back. “Y- Suga.. please..” You trembled, eyes shutting at his grip tightening. Felt so fucking good. Your pussy ached for his attention- anything from the man who wrecked you with just a few words. You whined loudly, his other hand going around your neck. The toy inside of you buzzing even more. It had your legs straining against the floor. “You’re a good wife aren’t you?” He smirked, cooing softly at his doll. You gasp, hips rocking forward. Between the toy and his hands you were on fire.

“Mmmhm..m’a good wife m’promise..”

“And If I fill this hole up you’ll be a good mother, too, won’t you?”

“Mhm!” Your eyes open, hips jerking. Your stomach had a pooling feeling. “Cum-“

“Now you know it’s not that easy.”

Muttering softly, Suga motioned for you to stand. He hummed at your body, taking in how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. Cunt wet with slick spread on your inner thighs, nipples hard and wet with his spit, bite marks all on your shoulders. A mess. His touch lost, the toy cutting off abruptly. “Please..” you sniffled. Cute. He found you absolutely adorable.

“Spread your legs for me.” He leans forward, tongue licking along your v line. Getting closer..so close. The flick of his tongue to your clit sent you over. “Fuck!” You reach out for his hair, Suga lapping at your clit, sucking as you came. Your cunt squeezed around the toy until it fell on the soft rug beneath you. Suga’s hand landing a smack to your ass. Shaking, he kept his mouth on your sensitive cunt.

His thumb dragged your slick, playing with how wet you were while he made it worse.

“Have a seat.” Leaning back, Suga starts stroking his cock. Flushed and red, he adjusts for you, your body fitting perfectly over him. His cock teased your hole, groaning at how wet you sounded with just the tip slipping inside of you. “Oh fuck..oh fuck-“ You throw your head back, finally getting what you wanted. His cock buried deep inside of you, taking it to the hilt. He shudders against your chest, your nails digging into Suga’s arms while you leaned against him.

“Look at that..taking it in all at once.” His tongue darted out to lick small stripes upon your chest. You started to move slowly, gasping at the noise. His size was..insane, but enough for you. Suga grips your hips, another groan ripping from his throat while you squeezed around him. So sensitive you were, after just cumming. At some point you didn’t have the strength anymore to lift yourself. He held you at an angle, hips lifting while he fucked into you hard and slow. “Knew you could take it like a good girl.”

A small whine leaving you breathless, sounds growing louder by the second. And god it hurt so good, you didn’t know what to do but enjoy the ride. Suga talked to you but you couldn’t hear a thing, too lost into everything. Lost..you knew where you lied with him. No matter what.

“..at me.” It was all a blur. “Look-“ You gasped, his cock hitting a certain spot inside of you. So deep, you squeezed onto him. Eyes watering once more. “Suga-“ You felt your head being lifted back, you saw the ceiling, illuminated by the candles lit around the room.

“Angel.” It was like everything stopped. You hiccuped, legs shaking as you blinked the tears away. Yoongi looks at you, frowning softly. He was quick to stop, but..

“You- safe word. Yoon-“

“Shh..” He knew you inside and out. That small motion of quietness was enough. He knew you were tired, fucked out. He had came inside of you minutes ago.

Kissing your delicate shoulders softly, Yoongi stood carefully, slipping out of you with a loud hiss. The night ending with you in his arms, hand rubbing all over your body as he took care of you. Delicate kisses lingering all over your body, a warm bath, and Yoongi’s voice putting you to sleep.

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chimcess · 3 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

masterlist || next || playlist

Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in.

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza.

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back.

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves.

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up.

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else.

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap.

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday.

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice.

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch.

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out.

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up.

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full.

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty.

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream.

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself.

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

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livingformintyoongi · 4 days

Note

yoongi fucking his girlfriend raw for the first time and her telling him to cum inside because she wants his babies

First time

a/n: as the request did not have many specifications I went straight to the point, hope you don't mind 😣. warnings: Breeding kink, a little bit soft, in fact there are not many warnings, it is quite soft. wc: 1.1k taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @zent9 @superbbananananana

"Shit" you moaned, squirming on your sheets as you felt Yoongi's fingers touch the exact spot that made the knot in your belly get tighter and tighter, although, come to think of it, it could also be due to Yoongi's tongue teasing your clit.

"I haven't done this in a long time" he whispered, straightening up as he pulled his fingers from inside you and licked them. During all that time he didn't take his eyes off you and your body. "Do you think you're lubed up enough to get my cock in?".

"Yes" you sighed, resting a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm your heartbeat. It wasn't very helpful, but at least you tried. You turned your head toward your nightstand, reaching your shaking arm toward the drawer to pull out a condom. You frowned as you felt Yoongi's hand stop you quickly, "What's wrong?" you turned to look at him, returning your arm to its place.

"It's just..." he scratched the back of his neck, grimacing with his mouth. His cheeks were barely tinged with a pastel pink color you'd seen once or twice when he felt too embarrassed, "could we, you know, do it without a condom? Only if you want to" he hastened to clarify, avoiding looking you in the eye.

"It's okay" you cupped his cheeks, caressing them gently, "we've been together for years, and I doubt that with one time anything will happen" you smiled at him as reassuringly as you could, hoping you could convey that feeling to him.

"God, I love you so much," he settled between your legs, moving down until he was face to face with you, "I don't think you can imagine how much I do," he kissed your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses running all the way from where he started to your bra.

"Then show me how much you love me" you whispered in his ear, hugging his neck and pulling him even closer to you. You shivered slightly as you felt his breath collide against your chest.

"Oh believe me, I will" he laughed softly, gently pushing the tip of his cock inside you. You both moaned before the skin to skin contact. It was your first time doing this, and although it felt strange, it was a sensation you definitely wouldn't regret feeling. "How is it possible that after all these years you're still so tight?" he growled over your collarbones, leaving a mark right in the center.

"Don't ask, just enjoy it" You tried to laugh, but were quickly interrupted by a lunge from Yoongi.

If there was one thing that characterized Yoongi in sex, it was that he would never start soft and gentle. He liked to go straight to his climax point, feel as much as possible in the shortest time and repeat it over and over again until he was satisfied. That was your Yoongi.

"Feels good" he murmured against your skin, pounding your pussy hard. A shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he heard you moan loudly the moment the tip of his cock hit your G-spot. He loved how you reacted every time he found that sensitive spot.

"Fuck" you brought your hands to his hair, pulling on it to keep yourself grounded. You let your head fall back, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lick, bite and mark your neck as he pleased.

Yoongi moaned as he felt your walls clench around him tightly, clinging to your hips as if his life depended on it. It would probably leave marks, but he didn't care right now, neither you nor him.

"I love the feel of you squeezing my cock," he said as he closed his eyes and concentrated on increasing the speed of your onslaught. His hand gently caressed the marks he had left on your neck, causing a soft sigh to escape your lips.

"More" you moaned, moving your hands down from his hair to his shoulders, burying your deep red nails into his skin.

"More?" he teased back, taking one of your legs and pulling it up his shoulder. You moaned loudly as you felt his cock go even deeper than it was before. "Shit, Y/N, you're so sensitive" he laughed, moving his hand down to your womanhood to take your clit between his fingers and play with it as he pleased.

You hunched your back to him, closing your eyes tightly. The knot in your stomach was becoming more and more unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. "Yoonie" you whimpered between moans, looking up at him with misty eyes and dilated pupils.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you" he bent down a little, just enough to kiss your cheek, "do it as soon as you're ready."

You nodded awkwardly, starting to move your hips against his so you could get your long desired release. The moment you came your whole body trembled from the spasms, and you almost melted as you felt Yoongi embrace you as carefully as possible with the intention of regulating your body's movement.

"That's it, fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Yoongi closed his eyes, concentrating on how good your tight, wet pussy felt. He was so immersed in the sensation that he almost forgot he wasn't wearing a condom. "Shit" he whispered, trying to get out of your pussy as quickly as possible. He moaned in surprise as he felt you imprison his hips with your legs. You still looked a little tired from your recent orgasm, but apparently you were determined not to let it out. "Honey, I'm going to come soon, I need-".

"Cum inside" you whispered, moving your hips against his, "I want you to come inside, I want to have your baby."

And that broke Yoongi for a few seconds. Only for a few seconds, because almost instantly he reacted and brought his mouth to yours in search of a desperate kiss. You gasped as you felt Yoongi's thrusts get deeper and stronger, and only moments later, you felt his cum spill inside you as you swallowed your boyfriend's moans with the kiss.

You both fell silent after finishing. You kept your eyes closed and your hand in his hair, he, for his part, had his head resting on your chest, caressing your waist with his fingertips. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" you whispered, giving a yawn. Fucking Yoongi always wore you out, even though he was the one doing most of it.

"We're going to need a lot more cum if you want a baby, you know that?" he chuckled above your ear, moving his hand down to your center, caressing your sensitive area.

You whimpered as you felt his intentions bump against your inner thigh, "We just finished."

"The night is still long" he nodded, kissing you passionately as he straightened back up on top of you.

He definitely wasn't going to let you sleep tonight.

Materlist.

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leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld · 1 month

Text

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

MATERIALIST

Characters Pt1

Characters Pt2

Chapter One – Disgusting Humans!

Chapter Two – A Rare Find

Chapter Three –Noona

Chapter Four – Heat

Chapter Five – Panther Down

Chapter Six – Obliterazione Delle Anime

Chapter Seven – Feelings Of Content

Chapter Eight – Nothing Matters, Only You

Chapter Nine – Messing With The Wrong Hybrid

Chapter Ten – Uncertainties And Fear

Chapter Eleven – Storm

Chapter Twelve – Wounds Can Heal Too.

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folkookie97 · 2 months

Text

❝why'd you only call me when you're high?❞ — MYG

— SUMMARY: ❝ It's Yoongi's birthday and he starts feeling guilty for breaking up with you when you most needed him. ❞

— PAIRING: rockstar!yoongi x actress!reader

— TYPE: light angst, mild dark | rockstar!au, celebrities!au

— WORD COUNT: 907

— WARNINGS/TAGS: Part of "I Bet on Losing Dogs" One-Shots Collection, toxic love, exes to lovers, second chance romance, secret relationship, non-graphic smut (not with the reader), semi-public sex, Trust Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcoholism, ambiguous/open ending, Unplanned Pregnancy, arguing, Yoongi is bad at feeling here (maybe a lil bit toxic too lol), This part is based on Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? (Arctic Monkeys), POV Second Person

— NOTES¹: This one-shot is part of the "I Bet On Losing Dogs" Collection, random scenarios of my AU where Yoongi is a toxic rockstar with trust issues and an alcohol addiction who secretly dated an actress at the beginning of her career.

— NOTES²: Happy bday Yoongi my sweetheart, I love you so much <3 (he was my ultimate bias from 2015 to 2019 guys, but I'll never get over him 😭😭)

— RELEASE DATE: March 08, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"So you must be the birthday guy of the party. Happy birthday, bro!"

Min Yoongi heard that last sentence a trillion times during the night, the insincerity of the congratulations already going unnoticed by his confused brain as he filled his body with an absurd amount of alcohol.

He hadn't been worried about nothing more since the last few hours. His face was no longer anything more than a mask whose faked fellow feeling had the sole intention of at least not making the situation even more uncomfortable for the guests and their random companions.

When the idea of celebrating his birthday with a party full of other celebrities came into his own mind, Yoongi didn't figured the bad scenarios that could happen at the private club. He just wanted to get rid of the feeling of loneliness that had been damaging him over the last few months. The impostor syndrome haunting him during sleepless nights with the creative block, whenever he tried writing some new songs for his new album.

The deadline until the new tour's start was short, and his patience was even shorter.

Yoongi just wanted to de-stress. Celebrate his special night with some friends from the same celebrities' world, drink a lot, eat some snacks and maybe have sex with random models. Everything he used doing before he met you.

All it took was drinking too much until he went to a far corner to make out with a Victoria's Secret's Angel who wasn't that famous, but at least made up for her lack of fame with her beauty and tongue technology.

However, maybe the weight of having a different mouth touching him after being used to feeling only someone specific for so long had been too much for his emotions heightened due alcohol.

Or maybe he felt guilty. Guilty for letting another woman touch him after sharing so many good moments with you.

Guilty for saying such cruel words to you during your latest arguments. Guilty for don't understanding your desire to see him publicly deny his dating rumors with other women. Guilty for accusing you of being paranoiac, too jealous and also accusing you of blame him for always putting his career before your relationship.

Guilty for never prioritizing you.

But mostly, guilty for leaving you when you needed him most. Guilty for accusing you of pregnancy trick for his fame and money. Guilty for always being a toxic boyfriend and already being a bad future dad.

Yoongi would always love you. He knew that. Everyone in his inner circle knew that. Even that hot model could realized that when he started crying right after cumming in her mouth.

But he didn't deserve your love. He didn't deserve your baby.

And being there, at his own pity party with his lips — and eyes — still swollen and more glasses in his hands as he continued greeting his guests only proved this cruel truth.

It was his fucking birthday. All he really wanted was being with you. Cuddling you, playing some of both of you favorite songs on his guitar, caressing your pregnant belly, talking to the baby...

Damn it! He just wanted you again. He just wanted being with you forever, being your husband. He wanted having a family with you. He needed to get you back. He needed his stupid party end up being useful, at least knocking some sense into his fucking mind.

With his vision blurred from tasting different colorful drinks, Yoongi searched for your number in his blocked contacts, letting out a long sigh with the increased guilt that hit in his chest when he realized that you didn't block him back.

So he pressed the call icon and waited.

Three rejected calls. Four missed calls. He could almost daydream, remembering you carrying your own shoes and calling him every possible curses while leaving your old apartment after one of your arguments.

Even though the clock on his cell phone showed that it was past three in the morning, he knew you were awake. Or at least you woken up with his fucking annoying stubbornness.

I'm so sorry love

It wasn't something very special, but it was as much as his high drunk state allowed him typing in your DMs without looking more stupid than his usual.

It wasn't a decent apology for everything he'd put you through lately. All the arguments, the swearing, the shade comments on the internet, his neglect about the baby...

Yoongi knew you deserved better words. You deserved all the love in the world. All the love he felt for you but never showed you in a healthy way.

But deep down, Yoongi knew you would answer him. He wasn't proud of being sure about that, but he knew it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Hi. Why'd you only call me when you're high?

And you unfortunately also knew him enough to know that alcohol was the cause behind his sudden motivation to contact you, after months of just ghosting your attempts to still save your relationship. Save your future family.

I'm so sorry

He practically repeated the same message before trying to click the call icon again.

This time, you answered, barely giving him time to process the situation before your trembling voice echoed through his phone. "Prove it to me without being fucking drunk as usual. Prove it to me without being at your stupid birthday party."

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pinkcottonlatte · 1 year

Text

ＹＯＯＮＧＩᵳᵢ𝓬 ᵣₑ𝓬ₛ

[part 1]

⦾ Ｓｅｒｉｅｓ

⁃ Turqbuni by @solastia (complete, featuring Jimin, Angst, explicit smut, threesome)

⁃ feels so right by @solastia (on going, Emotional manipulation, domestic violence, Infidelity, Eventual smut)

⁃ she’s too clingy by @tvntae (on going, Angst, mentions of sex, cursing, cheating)

⁃ void by @btssavedmylifeblr (on going, ot5, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation, discussions of pornography, voyeurism, and excessive sexual tension)

⁃ silver spoon by @blameblamebts (ongoing, Angst/ Romance)

⁃ what if by @blameblamebts (complete, Angst/Romance/Violence)

⁃ la douleur exquise by @cinnaminsvga (on going, fluff, angst, humor, eventual smut)

⁃ pretend by @gimmesumsuga (ongoing, on hiatus, explicit smut, angst, infidelity)

⁃ her by @solelybts (angst)

⁃ silent black keys by @dtownsuga (on going, deaf composer! yoongi x librarian! y/n, angst, fluff)

⁃ white gown by @dtownsuga (ongoing, doctor! yoongi x doctor! y/n, fluff, angst, eventual smut)

⁃ grey area by @blushoseoks (ongoing, slowburn, soulmate au, angst, language, eventual smut)

⁃ leave me by @itsamejin (complete, angst, cheating, toxic relationship)

⁃ goodbye by @itsamejin (complete, cursing, fighting, angst)

⁃ droplets by @bts-timestories (ongoing, historical au, arranged marriage, angst, violence and yandere themes)

⁃ ink nemesis by @scriptaed (complete, Angst/Fluff || paparazzi!au; fake dating!au;)

⁃ all the room in the world by @inkofyoonkoo (complete, Fluff/angst | Childhood friends!AU ∘ Friends to lovers!AU)

⁃ poetica by @inkofyoonkoo (ongoing, sci fi au, smut, angst, fluff)

⁃ you among the others by @inkofyoonkoo (ongoing, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, fluff, college au)

⁃ Dating advice by @taleasnewastime (complete, fluff, angst, smut)

⁃ look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash (ongoing, slow burn, enemies to lovers, coworkers au, smut, angst)

⦾ Ｏｎｅｓｈｏｔｓ

⁃ my woman by @solastia (smut & fluff)

⁃ a new beginning by @tvntae (fluff & angst)

⁃ gwanghae flow by @btssavedmylifeblr (explicit sexual activity,dub-con, unhealthy relationship dynamics, slut shaming, adultery, impreg kink, knife/sword play, historical inaccuracy)

⁃ inspiration by @blameblamebts (fluff, angst)

⁃ be quiet by @gimmesumsuga (smut, oral)

⁃ wraith by @gimmesumsuga (angst, Cursing, mentions of domestic abuse, rough, unprotected sex, violence, blood, character deaths)

⁃ your favourite game by @gimmesumsuga (smut, fluff)

⁃ seesaw by @dtownsuga (angst, toxic behaviour)

⁃ this love by @itsamejin (angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn, cursing, sexual content)

⁃ all oneshots and drabbles of @scriptaed

⁃ all fics of @blu-joons

⁃ litost by @ethertae (humiliation, dirty talk, degradation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, angst, smut)

⁃ all eyes on me by @here2bbtstrash (smut, college au, masturbation, accidental and then purposeful voyeurism, a smidge of dirty talk)

⁃ me and my husband by @here2bbtstrash (smut, dom husband yoongi, minor dirty talk/teasing/ass grabbing, suggested infidelity as teasing, semi-public indecency, spanking as punishment, thigh riding, a smidge of crying, squirting)

⁃ watermelon sugar by @here2bbtstrash (spit kink, erotic watermelon eating , friends to lovers, tiny bit of praise kink)

⁃ drip by @here2bbtstrash (friends to lovers, smut)

#min yoongi #min yoonki #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi fic rec #fic rec #bts #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts fic rec #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi x reader #kpop fic #kpop scenarios #kpop fic recs

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serenecypher · 3 months

Text

Bangtan Host Club Chapter Two

Genre: BTS Ot7xf!Reader, Poly!AU, Fluff, Romance, Crack-ish, Eventual Smut.

W/C: 3303

Summary: Tired of your boring mundane life? Become an exclusive member of The Bangtan Host Club™ today and let 7 charming men help you out.

Warnings: This chapter is rated PG13, but future chapters may include Mature Themes. The only real warning is Taekook being general menaces lol.

Disclaimer: Please do not copy/translate or cross-post my work. The tag list is open. Just DM or send an ask to be included.

A/N: Thank you for giving so much love to chapter one. I hope you all enjoy Chapter 2 as well! 💜 I am honestly really enjoying writing this too. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. See you soon with Chapter 3!! 🎀

Chapter 1 << Chapter 2 >> Chapter 3

Jungkook holds the door to the lobby of your apartment building open for you, smiling down at you impishly as you brush past him, thanking him coyly. Once everyone is indoors, Jimin is the first to speak.

“Wait, there must be a supply closet here. Namjoon Hyung, come with me. We should get the tools we need for this little project.” He shifts his stern gaze onto Taehyung and Jungkook as he directs them to keep you company up the stairwell. “Play nice, you two. We’ll be there in no time.”

Taehyung makes a face at this before shrugging. “We are always nice, isn’t that so Kookie?” he winks at Jungkook, who looks away from Taehyung… almost bashfully. Taehyung smiles in what seems like adoration before he turns to you. His smile turns a little playful as he nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t you wanna take us to your place, pretty girl?”

Jimin audibly sighs before he shoots you a gentle smile. “Like I said, be there soon.” He waves at you and walks down the corridor toward the back of the building, Namjoon following behind him wordlessly. You gesture for Taehyung and Jungkook to follow you with a tilt of your head and turn toward the stairs leading up to your floor.

You trudge up the stairs first, followed closely by the two men. You’ve just about climbed five steps when suddenly you hear snickering behind you. You stop in your tracks and turn around, slightly agitated. Jungkook and Taehyung are close behind you, walking hand in hand. Jungkook stares up at you and blinks his eyes in curiosity. “Why’d you stop?”

“Nothing.” you mutter as you quickly glance away from them and look ahead at the concrete stairs like they have something important to tell you. Even though there are sounds of muffled giggles and murmurs of protest behind you, you keep your eyes straight ahead as you climb the stairs of the two floors. You walk up to your apartment door and slump your back against the hardwood.

Just as you turn around, Taehyung finds your eyes to rest his on. He takes one two three steps and he is standing right in front of you. He places his elbow behind you and leans into your space, his eyes trained on yours as he huffs out in amusement. “You are really pretty, you know…” his voice comes out deeper than before and his eyes fall to your lips, catching the way your tongue peeks out to wet them nervously.

“Thanks” you manage to say meekly under the intensity of his burning gaze which is instantly acknowledged by a deep hum from him. Then, you feel skin brush against your knuckles, and you look down to find Jungkook’s long tattooed fingers slotting against yours. You look up and you feel something in your chest flutter to find Jungkook and Taehyung looking at each other.

“Have you forgotten about me, Hyung?” Jungkook says, and his voice betrays a sense of hurt that is easy to catch. You have never seen a man resembling a kicked puppy like this before. Taehyung, to his credit, looks affronted by this accusation as he shifts his attention to Jungkook, a rueful smile plastered on his lips.

“Kookie, I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” he sighs deeply, shaking his head. Just as Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, Taehyung continues, once again looking at you, “But she is just so beautiful, she is latching on to all my thoughts.”

Your eyebrows reflexively shoot up to your hairline at his declaration. You feel confused and yet somehow flattered and it only gets harder to articulate your emotions as Jungkook leans into you, resting his head on your shoulder as he solemnly speaks more to himself than anyone else at this point, “I really can’t argue with that.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest but the spell these two seem to place you under twice in the span of a mere hour is broken again by the sound of Jimin clearing his throat. You watch as the sullen expression on Taehyung’s face gives way to a playful pout as he childishly whines to you before pulling away from your space. “Sorry, pretty girl. The party has to be rescheduled.”

You feel more than hear what seems like a breath of a chuckle from Jungkook as he picks his head up from where it had been resting on your shoulder and moves a bit to his left, away from you. He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks at your shocked expression.

“Got the tools.” Jimin says calmly, choosing to completely ignore whatever was going on before he got here. Namjoon gives you a nod too as he approaches the door, holding a yellow toolbox that should be average-sized but looks comically small in his hands. He places it on the floor in front of you and tilts his head at your figure that is still pressed against your door.

It takes you a moment but you manage to compose yourself enough to understand what he means. “Oh yeah, sorry.” you grumble as you feel heat rush the back of your neck, only worsened when you see Jungkook snicker and poke Taehyung’s side, jerking his chin in your direction, definitely noticing your embarrassed state.

Namjoon gets to work on your Europa lock without another word, carefully twisting the metal with some pliers from the inside. Jimin, meanwhile, is regarding you with curiosity and you know he is trying to figure something out about you.

“Do you live alone on this floor?” Even though the question is directed at you, his gaze sweeps across the corridor where the door to another apartment is.

“No, I have a neighbor. An old lady. She is really sweet but she is away for a few days.” you answer easily, pointing in the direction he is looking at already.

“Hmm.” is all he has to add before looking at you again. You can tell Jimin is not being as pleasant to you as he was earlier. There is a sharpness in his eyes now as he regards you. You can’t help but feel intimidated by him and you don’t particularly enjoy his sudden coldness. You decide not to think about it too much and just chalk it up to him not being a big fan of wasting this much of his time helping a stranger he just met. What else could it possibly be?

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asks again, abruptly.

“I am a project manager at LinkSol.”

“LinkSol, as in LinkSol by Hwan Sana?”

“That’s the one. Have you worked there before?” you ask, trying to make this interaction between the two of you feel more conversational and less like an interrogation. However, Jimin tilts his head at you as if your question doesn’t make any sense to him. Even Jungkook snickers from where he has been observing the two of you.

“No, I have not worked at LinkSol. I have been an acquaintance of Ms. Sana for some time now, though.” Jimin explains with a shrug of his shoulders. You watch as his eyes take the liberty of regarding your entire figure. Then with a sudden jerk, his gaze jumps up to your face as if he has caught whatever it was he had been looking for and an amused smile forms on his lips. He is about to say something when his phone starts buzzing incessantly in his jeans pocket. He gives a sideways jerk of his neck as he pulls his phone out with a grin.

“Done.” Namjoon’s smooth voice announces as he pushes the door handle and opens the front door to your apartment.

Glee washes over you in waves as you rush into your apartment. God, you could just roll up into bed right now and have the deepest sleep of your life. Unfortunately, you are once again reminded of your unexpected guests and their kindness when Jimin’s voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“Jin Hyung is calling us all back.” he says and you hear someone, probably Taehyung, groan at the information. Then Jimin’s head peeks around the door of your apartment and he gives you a dazzling smile. “You too. He said something about you forgetting your coat. He seems really forlorn from the sounds of it.”

“Let me get my keys this time.” you say as you walk towards your TV console and pocket the keys, coming back out the door and closing it behind you. Namjoon looks at you with a small shy smile, his dimples making an appearance and you are cruelly reminded of how you never even thanked him.

“Thank you guys so much. I am so grateful to all of you.” You bite your lip shyly as you look at the four beautiful men standing outside your humble apartment. Namjoon looks down at his feet, and Jimin waves a hand in the air to dismiss the whole thing.

“No need to thank us, yet. Let us take you back and you can finish all those cookies you ordered from Hobi Hyung.” He places his hand on your back to guide you back down the stairs. There is a sense of excitement in his actions that does not go amiss by you. Just moments ago it felt like he was scrutinizing you and yet now it feels like he is overjoyed at the idea of taking you back to the cafe and as you walk down the familiar staircase for the second time that evening, you wonder what it is that he seems to have gathered from you.

When you reach the cafe again, it seems livelier. There are other customers inside, ordering drinks and engaging in conversations at various tables in small groups. In fact, as you slowly realize, it seems like the tables are set up in a way that one of the employees are at the center, addressing and chatting with multiple customers at a time. Jimin takes your hand and guides you over to the table where Seokjin is surrounded by about eight people. His eyes meet yours as you take the chair pulled back by Jimin and he gives you a dashing smile. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me, princess.” he coos and you feel the familiar flutter of your heart in your chest.

“Her jacket is what she forgot, I heard.” Jungkook sing-songs as he brushes past you toward the table beside yours, where Taehyung is already seated, surrounded by some people and chatting with them, all smirks and winks.

Seokjin scowls at Jungkook momentarily before regaining his composure and smiling at the table again. “Either way, it does not matter, for you have found your way back to me again and I couldn’t be happier.” he punctuates the end of his sentence with a flying kiss directed at you. The other people at the table sigh longingly at him.

Okay. This whole thing is starting to feel a bit off to you. That’s an awfully romantic thing to say to someone you just know the name of, right? Someone you just met no longer than an hour ago? And what’s with the swooning? Sure, Seokjin is really handsome and charming, but to hang on to all of his words with such reverence? Maybe you are just too tired to understand all of this. Deciding that you should take yourself back home and sleep the weariness off, you stand up from the table, ready to go.

“Thank you guys for everything. I would like to go home now, um, where can I find my coat again?” you ask Seokjin who looks brazenly offended like you’d hurt his pride but, nonetheless, points to a door beside the entrance of the cafe. “Right there, angel.”

You nod and hightail it away from the table. Your eyes meet the cute barista from earlier who waves at you enthusiastically. You feel fondness churn your heart and you wave back at him. You twist the door handle to the coat closet and smack your head right against a person, knocking them and yourself off balance. The sudden inertia brings out a yelp from you. You feel strong arms snaking around your waist and holding you against the chest of the person who has acted as a cushion against your fall. They let out a muffled groan from under you when they fall on their ass, their arms still holding you safely.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You say and try to get up from your place on the floor far too quickly but your arms are entangled with the person below you, making you slump right back on top of them.

“Patience.” says a deep voice from below you. The arms loosen from their previous position around your waist and instead, hands press against your sides, gently pushing you upward. You press your knees against the hardwood floor as you push your hands against the sides of their shoulders. How dark it is in here is not helping you in any way either. Once sufficiently distanced from the person below you, you look up to find a pair of beautiful, sharp, feline-like eyes staring at you. Even though it is dark you can make out the silhouette of a black mask covering the lower half of their face.

“Are you okay?” a man’s voice asks you and you pull back further now sitting on your knees as you rub along your left elbow, only out of nerves.

“I am fine. Are you?!” you ask, your voice pitching with concern. You would be so embarrassed if this person injured themselves while saving you from falling because you were too busy gawking at the barista. You will never show your face at this establishment again.

“Probably nothing too bad.” he says nonchalantly as he sits up as well. “Yoongi.” he extends his hand to you, “And you?”

You take his hand in yours to shake and give him your name. Slowly, the two of you stand up again and try to find your bearings in the dark. As your eyes slowly adjust to the dark further, you notice that Yoongi is wearing some sort of large coat that is shaped more like a cloak. “Wait,” he says and presses the button behind you on the wall, turning the lights on.

You squint your eyes from the sudden burst of light and catch a flash of pale skin as Yoongi quickly puts his hands inside the pockets of his coat-cloak. You notice he is wearing an entirely black ensemble, with a black mask over his mouth and a black hood pulled over his head. He regards you with the same feline-like eyes that you had been able to catch the intensity of even in the dark.

“People do not usually come in here.” he says with a questioning furrow of his brows.

Before you can answer him the door is pushed open again and Hoseok is clinging to your back.

“I heard a loud thud! Are you both okay?! I got so worried!” he spits out the words rapidly, concern evident in his slightly trembling voice.

“We’re fine, Hoba.” Yoongi answers for both of you and you feel Hoseok rubbing his head into your shoulder as he nods. Gently, he lets go of you and steps back.

“That’s good.” he chirps up the next moment and links his pinky with yours. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seokjin told me I can find my coat here, I was just leaving.” you tell him and remind yourself.

This seems to sour Hoseok’s mood. He pouts at you adorably. Seriously, how can a grown man be this precious?

“We haven’t even played together!” he whines and bats his eyelashes at you. You feel a compelling urge to coo at him but you choose to suppress it. Instead, you put your hand in his soft blonde hair and ruffle them slightly.

“I am sorry. I kinda just wanna go home and sleep. It has been a long day.” You say and spot your coat neatly hung from a coat rack behind Yoongi. You take the coat off the rack and wear it snugly.

“Aw, you didn’t even enjoy the sweets with me. I would have loved to eat them with you.” Hoseok pouts even more and adds a small sniffle that you immediately recognize as an act of dramatic effect.

“Is it only the sweets you want me for?” you playfully chide him. His adorable pout gives way to a mischievous grin as he giggles and hugs himself to you again, hiding his face on your shoulder.

“You caught me!” he says with a flurry of laughter. Then he pulls away from you as his giggles die down slowly. “I understand you have to go. It makes me sad, though, and not just because of the sweets-related missed opportunity.” he punctuates his words with a gentle nudge of your shoulder.

You jut out your lower lip at him in adoration, imitating his pout from before. “Maybe we will see each other soon! We can surely hang out then, right?”

Hoseok’s smile vanishes for a moment as his eyes scan your face in confusion. Slowly then all at once, his eyes soften in realization, and an even bigger grin forms on his lips. “You are adorable!” he giggles but the joke is lost on you. You still find yourself giggling simply because he is giggling.

Hoseok starts to lead you out of the room with his pinky which is still linked with yours. You hear shuffling of feet behind you and you turn your head slightly to see Yoongi is also following the both of you out, his eyes concentrated on the floor.

Once you reach the counter, Hoseok lets go of your pinky and goes to his rightful place behind it. “How much do I owe you for today?” you ask him, pulling out your wallet from your coat.

He is leaning his palms forward on the counter as he types on the computer in front of him. The card machine starts generating a receipt for you. He tears it and hands you one-half of the receipt. You take the receipt and- huh?

This can NOT be right. That’s way too many zeroes. That’s at least three more zeroes than your entire net worth.

“You made a mistake.” you chuckle nervously as you try to hand the receipt back to Hoseok with wide eyes. He looks at you, presses his lips together, and shakes his head.

“I never make an error. It is absolutely right. You have availed special services of the club today. Multiple hosts left their positions to provide you with a service, even accompanying you to your front door, to be exact. Those are the right charges.” he explains in a cheery yet calm voice that feels anything but reassuring right now.

Hosts? Did he just say hosts? The people who are paid for their company? Then it dawns on you. Bangtan Host Club™. You look around to see how blatantly the name is displayed on the menu cards and the flipbooks on the tables. How several customers are wearing merchandise that reflects the same name. Why had you been so ignorant? Were you so distracted by their charms that you did not even realize what exactly was going on? It is a fucking trademark for God’s sake! How on earth did you miss it?! You feel bile rush up your throat as you look down on the receipt again and the series of zeroes makes you slightly dizzy.

The next words you screech out come from deep within your bones- “WHAT THE FUCK!”

Taglist: @im-sinking-in-mud @comingupwithacoolnameishard @loumin908

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mistypsych · 1 year

Text

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.

The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.

The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.

“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.

Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.

You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.

Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.

To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.

You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.

You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.

You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.

*** *** ***

Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.

He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.

Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.

Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.

You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.

After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.

“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.

Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.

If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.

Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.

“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.

You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.

*** *** ***

You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.

Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.

Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.

You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.

Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?

You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.

Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.

“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.

Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.

Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.

tag list: @wobblewobble822

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linos-luna · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Yoongi smut with a fem reader.Yoongi is so stressed with working on the album one day he comes home from filming the music video still in his agust d outfit and takes it out on the reader 🥵🥵🥵

Agust d is just 🥵

———————————————————————

Louder ❣️

Hard!Dom!Yoongi x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: oral (male recieving), pain kink, crying, filth, slapping, unprotected sex, rough sex, d/s

————————————————————————

Yoongi sat on the couch, running his hand through his hair with a sigh. He just barely got home from a stressful music video shoot and didn’t even bother to change his clothes or clean his face. You didn’t say anything as you watched from the hallway, but he knew you were there.

“Come here, y/n…” he said, not even turning his head.

You slowly walked over to him and he patted his lap, implying that he wanted you to sit.

Yoongi moved your hair from your face and started kissing you. At first it was soft but then got deeper and sloppier. He bit your lip and inserted tongue; you swore you could taste some blood and moaned at the feeling.

After some sloppy making out, he grabs your chin. “Y/n, I’m so tired today, you know?”

“You look really good.” You said meekly.

“Yeah?” He smirked while kissing and sucking at your neck. You like me dressed up and dirty?”

You only whined at the feeling, tracing your fingers down his chest. “Yes, Master. Agust D…” you giggle.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and suck me off, hm?”

You nodded and before getting up, he suddenly slapped you, it wasn’t that hard but still stunned you. He dramatically cleared his throat and you realized your mistake.

“… yes master!” you quickly say before he pushes you off his lap and you stumble to your knees to undo his pants. You struggled a bit but was finally able to lower his pants. He helped you lower his boxers and pulled out his cock, rubbing it in front of your face.

You soon gave little kitten licks to the tip, making Yoongi groan and pull your hair.

“No teasing you dumb bitch!”

You then took his entire length in your mouth. It was huge and you wanted to get used it. But Yoongi was impatient, he needed relief now.

Your boyfriend grabbed your hair tightly and fucked your throat. It was deep and harsh. You could barely breathe but he loved the sound of it.

“What’s wrong baby?” He grunt. “Cant handle it? I know you can, dumb slut!”

You whimpered and moaned before feeling his hips stutter. You gagged at the feeling and he came in your mouth.

You tried sitting back but Yoongi grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks to make your lips part and watch a mix of your spit and his cum drip from your mouth.

“Dirty bitch…” he panted with a devious smile. “So fuckin filthy…”

You didn’t say anything, only deeply breathing as you tried swallowing what you could.

“Answer me!” Yoongi yelled suddenly while giving a harsh slap to the cheek. You stumbled back a little and could barely catch yourself before he kicked you to the floor with his foot.

“Y-yes master!” you gasp as he gets on top of you, pinning you down by the wrists.

He chuckled as he yanked down your pants and nearly ripped off your underwear.

You moaned at the feeling of him teasing your wet cunt, spreading your legs wide, and roughly entered you. You screamed and Yoongi grabbed you by the throat.

“Again! Scream again, bitch!” He said while thrusting harder, bending your legs to a painful point.

You screamed again, panting and nearly crying as he rammed into you. It was painful but weirdly you loved it.

“Again!” He grunted while squeezing your throat lightly. “Louder!”

“Master… Yoongi! Master… Agust D!” you choked in a raspy scream.

“Cum on my dick like the dirty girl you are!” He panted as he was close himself.

You came and he did as well.

Yoongi wiped your tears as he pulled out and lifting you from the floor. He picked up your limp form and brought you to the bed. He laid next to you and you got a bit insecure as you realized you were completely naked as he was only missing his pants and boxers.

Before you could cover yourself, Yoongi softly kissed your lips and stroked your hair.

“Sleep now, baby… you’re so good to me.”

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shyminmin · 9 months

Text

༄BTS X f.Reader | Ongoing (Very slow updates) | ༄Fantasy, Mermaid AU

"Let the waters guide you... just as Selene guides them..."

"You've been away long enough... It's time to come home.."

All Y/n wanted out of her dull, mundane life was to find out the truth about herself. Will she succeed in her endeavours or end up diving into something way deeper than anticipated? Only time will tell and perhaps from the reluctant help of a certain scaled individual.

*Forewarning, the appearance of BTS in the story will not occur immediately. Certain aspects of the plot need to be established and built up before the boys can appear. Expect one or multiple interactions with them in later chapters. Sorry and thank you for your patience.

⋆ 𝐓𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐲 ༄⋆

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑 (ᴛʙᴀ)...

Total Word Count: 48.4 k

⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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yuyu1024 · 3 months

Text

Twilight

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, mention of smoking and drinking alchohol jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.6k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

A/N: again thanks for liking this mini series and my simple writing... 🫶🏻 hope i don't disappoint 🙏🏻

****

[Day 1 into the marriage]

"Here is the wedding certificate and then here are the papers where all the terms of agreement are listed." The lawyer says as he puts down the pens and papers in front of you and Yoongi whilst you two are still in your wedding outfits. "These are final prints... they were revised based from our last meeting." He adds

"Good." Yoongi picks up his pen and signs the wedding certificate. "Thanks for doing this within short notice." And then he proceeds to signing our contract, flipping each page like he's just signing some random deal at work.

"No worries, Mr. Min. We've had clients who have way more pages and things to consider than yours two." The lawyer says

So, this means that a lot of rich people do this kind of contracts. Besides the pre-nup thingy. Meaning, contracts for those who got married just because they had to. What a world we live in.

"Mrs. Min?" Your eyes slowly rises. You see the lawyer handing you the pen.

"Oh." You take the pen from his hand and then slighty move forward from the sofa you are sitting so you could reach the papers.

"Left handed...?" Yoongi mumbles making you look back at him. He is sitting beside you.

"I- I am..." and then you proceed to signing everything. Not missing a page.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Min." The lawyer puts everything in a folder and then an envelope and stands up to bow. "Congratulation on your marriage!"

You are not sure how to response as you know what 'marriage' you just entered. But all you could say is 'Thank you' and bow back

Then the moment the lawyer and his minions left the room, you finally relax and let out a sigh of relieved. The wedding is finally over. The day you have been preparing for months. And the acting as a perfect bride is over. Well atleast for this moment. Coz now, you are not just a bride, you are a wife now. A wife of one of the wealthiest and good looking man in the country. The only son of the famous mafia known to man.

"Don't cut your hair short..." he suddenly says cutting you from your deep thoughts

"Sorry?"

You see him staring at you. His legs crossed and his chin resting on his palm. "Maintain that length..."

Then you glance down at your curled hair that is reaching until below your chest. "Ahm.... okay." You softly answer

"Do you have a doctor?"

"Doctor? For what?"

"To monitor your health... and also a doctor to take care of you... reproductive wise..."

"W-what...?" You could feel your cheeks burn up. You didn't expect a conversation like this just after getting married. "W-why...? Like... Do we need to have children as soon as possible?"

He looks away. "The opposite." He then stands up, hands in his pockets and walks towards the door. "Monitor your period...so when I want to have sex with you... we're safe."

Speechless. He's so straightforward and he sound so cold. But atleast he is talking to you now.

"Did you hear me?" He looks back at you

"Y-yes... I will." You answer, clutching onto your skirt, nervous and scared at the same time.

"Good." He turns his back again to you. "You can rest for bit... and when you're done, your car is waiting at the back entrance."

"My... car? H-how about you?"

"I have work. I'll see you at the house."

"Oh. Okay..."

You watch him leave the room and see Mr. Kim his right hand man smile at you to bid their goodbye and close the door.

That's it for your wedding day. The very eventful day ended up to becoming so silent. Because the next time you see him is 2 weeks after. Crazy isn't it.

Weddings supposed to be followed by a trip for your honeymoon but instead you are brought to his mansion and became a prison.

***

You are walking around the mansion, familiarizing yourself with the surrounding with your personal maid that was assigned to you by your husband, when you hear commotions. Everyone are in a hurry and mumbling as they do random things.

"Miss... Master is home." Your personal maid says answering your unspoken curiosity

"Is he..." you softly say under your breathe. "Should I go to my room now and change?" You ask her.

They have debriefed you the whole two weeks your husband is out. They told you all the things you need to know and add a bit of ideas to you what Yoongi likes. More particularly, your hair being braided whenever he wants to have sex.

How funny that even his staffs know these kind of things. During the two weeks time, it made you wonder, what type of person is Yoongi. How can he be so open about his wants especially from a woman. Like woman he fucks.

It also made you question, did he fuck a lot of woman before he was forced to marry? Did he bring a different woman to pleasure him? Will you be seeing other women if you don't give him his needs? Can you satisfy him?

It's been only at beginning of this life and yet you are flooded by question but no one could answer it. You are not allowed to question him or be curious.

The maid nods and bows.

"Okay then..." you are nervous.

If ever he comes to you and he asks for sex, you are worried and scared at the same time. This is your first time. You are not experienced. You never had a chance to have to have sex yet since you are busy trying to survive and work for your family. The only experience you got is kissing and you don't even know if you are good at it. Your first and last boyfriend was the onky experience you got. you two didn't lasted that long and you were young back then so..

"What are you doing here...?"

Both you and the maid got startled a bit. You two looking back, you both see Yoongi standing at the end of the hallway.

"Y-yoongi?" You mumble, almost a whisper that you can only hear yourself.

Your husband looks like he just came from a fight. The corner of his lips is bleeding and his white shirt have blood on it too.

"Master." The maid bows and explains why you are there. "Miss is just roaming around to get familiar with the house."

While you on the other hand, you are shaking but you try your very best to hide it. "W-what happen..." your voice is too weak for him to even hear

"We were just about to go to her room to get ready." The maid adds.

Yoongi's expression is empty. He is just starring at you with those sharp eyes. It is sending shivers all over your body.

"Tell everybody to not set foot on this wing until I say so..." Yoongi orders the maid

She bows and says, "Understood." And then she glances at me and does the same. "Miss..." before she disappears leaving you and Yoongi alone in the hallway.

"What are you staring at?" He asks as he begins to walk towards you. "Do I scare you?"

"No..." you shake your head

"Do I repulse you?" He then stops right in front of you.

You can now see it more clearing. His bloody lip, the scratches on his neck and his scar. The prominent scar on his face that made you curious about him since the day you met him.

"No... not at all..." you answer

He scoffs with disbelief with your answer. "You are just saying that because of our contract."

You feel offended a little because you are being honest. You are scared of the situation but not him. You are afraid that you might mess up your first night but not because of him. He never really scares you which is odd.

Before you met him, people already gave you warning about him. You were worried yes however all of that blew away when you saw him look at you. You know something is behind those empty eyes. He is different that what people know. You don't want to judge him.

"No..." you insist.

"Really?" He then raises his hand and touch your long straight hair.

"Your hand..." you mumble seeing his red knuckles. "Does it hurt?"

"That's nothing." He answers. "I can still use my hand..." then he gently touch your breast. He let his finger feel where your nipple is and then squeezing it lightly.

You inhale sharply as you watch him do it. This is the first time anyone have touched you like this, in a semi public place. You thought you'd be uncomfortable. But no. You like it. That's what your body tells you.

He is also watching you react on his touch. His eyes never left yours. "Are you nervous?" He asks

"A little."

He smirks, "you should be."

Then he pulled you in for a kiss by grabbing you by your nape. You tip toed a little as he is taller than you. You struggled a bit to find your balance but it didn't matter seconds later as you begin to melt the moment he devours your lips. He is holding you tight and basically carrying you.

His other hand skims down your back until it reaches your ass. He's caressing you down back that it pulls up your mini dress.

"I like this." He says in between the kiss as he touched your lace underwear.

Your heart is beating so fast. The sudden thrilling feeling is overwhelming you but at the same time is turning you on. The way he touches you is making you feel you are so sexy even though you know you are not.

"Spread your legs." He orders and you follow. Then his hand goes in to your panty and cup you down there. "You're so wet." He smirks

You are out of breathe when the kissing stops but him touching you down there, it is making you so red. No one has touched you down there.

"No braids today... I can't fucking wait anymore." He then scoops you off the ground and carried you bridal style. "I'll let this one go since we just got married. I need to fuck you right now."

**********

[6months into the marriage]

Yoongi have been gone for two days for business. He said he will back today but told you not to wait and just go to bed. However, after seeing him looking at bit grumpy and frustrated during his call earlier, you can't help but worry for him. Because usually when you see him like that he'll come home with a bloody knuckle again.

Thinking about him the whole day now affects you. You can't sleep nor feel tired. Your brain is so awake and imagining things that might happen to him.

You want to call him or even message Mr. Kim to know how is he doing. But you can't. You're not allowed to contact him unless it is about your schedule or about his parents. Your interaction with him is still very limited. It's been months since you two got married but nothing has changed.

And since you can't sleep, you decided to go down to the kitchen and make yourself a hot milk. It is perfect for the winter weather and also maybe it can help to ease your mind and get you to feel sleepy even just a little bit.

"It's snowing..." you mumble to yourself as enter the kitchen area.

There is a huge window where you could see the back of the house where the mini garden. You say mini since it is mini compare to how huse this whole house is.

The bushes are all covered in snow and you could see how the moon light reflects on them. It's mesmarizing but also dangerous especially if you are out driving.

"I wonder..." you whisper as you stand right next to the window. "I hope he gets home safetly..."

***

After drinking your hot milk and spending a few minutes staring into the world outside through the window, you still don't feel sleepy at all. So even it's already pass 10pm, you decided that maybe going to your study room and to read a book might help to.

However, on your way to your study area, you walk pass by Yoongi's wing where his room is located

You could hear men talking which made you stop and observe from the end of the hall. You see Mr. Kim talking to a man wearing a white blazer coat. He looked familiar but you are not sure. Not until he turned around and talked to a nurse that came out of Yoongi's room.

He is the Min's family doctor. He is also the same doctor that did your health check up months ago.

"Why is he--"

Then a high pitched, piercing cry echoed from Yoongi's room. He's screaming. He is in pain.

Both men hurries back in his room to check on Yoongi while you on the other hand, frozen and terrified from afar. Questions like; what happened? What's going on? Is he hurt? Why? Is he okay? Why is he screaming like that?

You want to sprint forward to go and check what the fuck is going on with your husband but you are forbidden to enter his wing. Per his rule.

'Y/N... just walk away. Walk away and pretend you didn't hear anything. That's how its supposed to be...' you say to yourself in your head as you take a step back and try to act like nothing happened.

Just move on. You keep repeating as you turn your back. You know he'll not like it, you being nosy.

*******

[7 months & 1 week into the marriage]

"What is it?" He asks as he flips the page of the book he's reading.

"Oh...S-sorry..." you lower your head again and just continued pretending reading the book you have in hand.

He caught you staring at him. But to be more specific, staring at his injured shoulder. This is the first you guys spent time together again. He was gone for awhile. Their doctor insisted that he need to get an operation as his injury was serious.

Yoongi denied him so many times. Even the doctor explained the danger that it would caused him and the injury really damaging his shoulder. He's very hard headed.

But you are glad that eventually, he said yes to the operation. Everyone is relieved when Mrs. Min, his mom, got to force him out of his dungeon and straight to the hospital.

"Are you even actually reading that book?" Yoongi shuts the book he have on hand and throws it on the sofa he's sitting on.

"Ahm..." your eyes shake. "I am..."

"Okay then... what is it about?"

You lift the book more to cover your face. "A young girl... fell in love with a vampire... but the vampire does not like her... so she tries his best to find a way to be... a vampire too... coz maybe... he'll like her back." You made it up. Sort of. You barely finished reading chapter 15.

"Really?"

"Uhum..." you hum and flip a page to act like you are still reading.

Yoongi shakes his head, "What a dumb book." He mumbles.

"Why do you think it is dumb?"

He rolls his eyes. "Why would she want to be a vampire if the vampire does not even like her in the first place. What would that change? That's a bit pathetic of her and stupid"

You lower the book onto your lap and shut it slowly. "Yeah... I guess you're right..."

His comment about the book sort of hit you in the heart. Since you kind a share the same story of the female lead. You are not in love but you try so hard to be accepted and be liked by him, your husband. Though you know it will never happen. He only likes to fuck you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"My mother wants to have lunch with you on the weekend. Be available." He says as he is focused on his phone probably reading emails.

'I'm always available.' You say in your head. 'How can I not be? I'm just at home and no where to go to.'

"Okay." You answer as you put down the book down beside you.

He is busy looking down at his phone now. Again. And just like that the room became so silent. You are just literally there to accompany him while he sits down in his home office and do whatever business he do. He do his work at home since he cannot report yet to work.

*beeps*

Your phone blinks as you receive a new message. It is a message from your friend back home, Taehyung. He's asking you how are you and also giving you updates about everything that has been going on in your small town. His simple text and updates every now and then really makes you smile. It is a simple thing that you look forward to every now and then. Since, lately, you have been loosing your smile day by day.

"What's funny?" He asks, not even looking at you

You put your phone down. "N-nothing... sorry...."

********

[11 months into the marriage]

Your wedding anniversary is coming soon and for some reason you are excited about it. You are not giggling to yourself or kicking off your feet when you are in bed alone thinking about it, however, you are really looking forward to it. For some reason, you want to celebrate it. It is a milestone for you. A simple achievement.

"Here you go, Miss." Your maid pulls out this mini plunging floral print dress with long sleeves from the hanger. You bought this online a few weeks ago. You think it is a cute dress to wear today. It is not fancy nor expensive but you like it. "Where to go today, Miss?"

You get up from the chair and undo your robe, revealing a cute pair of undergarment. "Nothing special... I just.... want to go out."

"I'll inform the driver then to get ready."

"Thank you." You take the dress from her hand so she could go on and inform the driver.

You have nothing to do today. Yoongi is out of town again and you have no schedules so you decided to go and visit your friend back home.

***

"Y/N!" Taehyung runs towards you and embraces you the moment you got out of the car. "Long time no see!" He then pats your head and pinches your cheek.

"Long time..." you answer then pulling back a little as you see his little sister running from afar. "Mia!" Bending down so you could welcome the little cutie's hug. "I've missed you! Oh my gosh! You've grown so much!"

"She's now two... can you believe it?" Taehyung says

"Oh dear!" You carry her and kisses her chubby cheeks. "I want to eat your cute little cheeks!" You tease her, making her giggle.

"Glad you had time to visit."

"Yeah... My husband is away so... I made plans."

"Why? Does he not allow you to go out?"

"No... not like that... he's busy and I got busy as well which is... new. And I'm still adjusting..."

It is true that Yoongi does not limit you with going out. It's just that you were and still adjusting big time to everything. The lifestyle, the household and Him. He is the big adjustment in your life right now.

"So, how's married life? I mean... married life with one of the richest man in the country?"

You exhale as smile. "Weird?"

"Weird? In what way?"

A lot of things. The lavish life is very nice in the beginning and exciting but then as time goes by you get very overwhelmed by the new things and items that comes in every now and then. Plus you don't repeat that much clothes which is very icky for you coz every dress and clothing is expensive so you want to wear them as much as possible.

Luckily, Yoongi didn't mind when you told him to not ask his stylists to buy you new clothes every release. You told him you wanted to buy on your own and just ask for consultation when you need to.

"Not used to it yet." Then you look behind you. "Even going around with a maid and a bodyguard."

He looks back and sees the two person standing a few feet away. "Oh... right."

"Play! Play!" Little Mia mumbles as she points at their house

"Play what?" You ask

"Ah, Dad built her a play house at the back. She likes to go their and play pretend house with her dolls." Taehyung explains

"I see.." you kiss little Mia's cheek again. "Let's play?"

"Yayaya!" Little Mia squeals in joy.

***

You spent quite a few hours at your friend's house. You even met a few old neighbors and classmates as well, catching up with their own lives and everything. It was fun. You enjoyed talking with them, finally talking this much again like before. It was refreshing.

However, along the talkings, you find it amusing that most of them got married as well after you and one is already expecting a baby and the other one is excited to go on a trip with his husband. Their stories of marriage is very different than yours. Their stories are very warm and thrilling while yours have a lot of activities yes, but the warmth, you don't have that.

You felt your smile fade away as the conversations continues. You also felt small and be like the other kid that's missing out a lot.

Taehyung even noticed it. He put his arm around you and gave you a 'it's okay' look. He knows what you are already feeling though he didn't asked what was on your mind. He just knew you needed a little nudge.

"Warm bath, miss?" Your maid asks as you both exit the elevator.

You got home already. You were knocked out on the way home.

"Maybe later?" You say.

"Understood."

"Thank you for today... you can go and rest for a bit. I'll just call you if I need you."

She bows. "Miss." And then walks off

You sigh heavily, closing your eyes shut for a few seconds before you decide to go to your study room. You want complete isolation and probably sit down at your favorite spot, the window seat and watch the sunset. Your study room have the best view of the sunset.

Pushing the window slightly open to let the crispy cool air in, then kicking your shoes off your feet as you lean your head out a bit and take in the fresh air.

The small smile you are wearing instantly vanishes as a thought comes in your head again.

Taehyung did talked to you before you left earlier. Besides asking you to visit often, he suddenly asked you if you're happy. Of course you said yes but deep inside, you question yourself. 'Am I?'

"Yah! Yoongi! You promised me that yatch so you should get me that yatch!"

You suddenly hear a woman's voice from afar. You have never heard anyone talk that loud ever in this house. So it made you curious. You peak your head out again from your window and start to look around where it comes from. And then when your eyes lands on the view of the driveway, you see Yoongi walking towards the car where Mr. Kim is waiting, holding the door and then a woman following your husband.

"Hey... don't ignore me!" She runs after Yoongi and hooks her arm to his.

It stunned you. You never hooked your arms around Yoongi's before. They.... look close. Who is she?

You see Yoongi talk to her, making an exhausted face. He looks so done and just want her to leave. But at the same time, it's not like he does not want to talk to her. Actually, he looks a bit relaxed talking to her.

Compared to you. He is strict, always serious and bored.

"Buy me the yatch!" She says again before he gets into the car.

You didn't hear what Yoongi answered. He just waved his hands and Mr. Kim shuts the door and goes to the passenger seat and leave with the unknown girl.

Before Yoongi could turn around and catch you, you instantly get back in and shut the window.

*****

[1st Anniversary]

"Good morning, Miss." Your maid enters your room and bows as she always does.

"Is he home?"

"Master left early this morning."

"Really..." you softly say. You sound sad and disappointed. "Did he say where is he going and what time will he back?"

"Sorry, Miss. Master didn't mention anything nor Mr. Kim."

"Hmm... okay then."

You had your hopes up. How stupid of you to think that he will celebrate with you. Hoping that maybe, even just for special occassions like this he could atleast be present.

It is a tough year for you. All through out this whole year, the only thing that is constant for your smile fading away. Yeah you are a bit light and always trying to be positive about the two of you. But since now its your one year into this marriage, officially 1st anniversary, and he is still like this. Maybe it's better you stop smiling already. It breaking your heart every time.

"Maybe he's with her." You mumble. "She's more of a good company than I am..." you flop on your bed and cover yourself with your duvet.

"Shall I get ready your outfits, Miss?"

"No.... just... sorry... can you please leave me alone for awhile?"

"I'll be outside."

Hearing the door closing, finally you let loose of yourself. For the first time, you are crying because of Him. Sobbing. You don't know why you are but it just felt right. You are disappointed, tired and feel unappreciated. Though you know how this thing between you two is, even you tell it to yourself hundred of times, you can't stop your own self to care and not try. You don't want to be a burden for him. You don't want to take advantage of his money. You don't want to act like you don't give a fuck. You don't want to not like him.

Yoongi is still a person, a man and you are a woman. Though you know that you don't love him you still like him. He is a kind person and giving though he is strict and have tons of rules for you but you don't care. And you don't know why you don't care.

It is very confusing for you. You are not even sure now what you are feeling. You just want him to notice you and just to... care. Maybe? Even just a little bit. ;(

You continue to cry and cry until your heart feels as numb as your eyes. You want to let it all out now to get over with your feelings. He can't see you emotional. He can't see that you care. Because if he did, maybe it will make him change his mind and let you go.

****************

[Day after 1st anniversary]

"Here's your coffee, Sir." Mr. Kim cautiously puts his cup of coffee in his desk while Yoongi is busy talking to his staff online

He did woke up early today even though he finished work late as well. He is already in his home office at 4am and very busy already. He had a few early meetings with time differences to think of.

"Can't you all fucking handle this? It's not like the task is hard!" He is scowling at the two men at the corner of the screen as he take a hit of his cigarette. "I assigned you to collect these because I know you could handle those mother fuckers. What happened?!?"

"Our mistake, Sir." One starts, "We didn't expected him to resist since it's their frist time dealing with us."

"Hmmm." Yoongi smashes his cigar on the ash tray. "Bring in your men tomorrow morning before dawn and show them how we deal with fuckers like him. And tell them this is us being super nice."

"Yes sir."

"Let's end this now. Just inform me when it's all sorted."

"Understood sir."

Yoongi then slams his laptap close and then grabs his cup of coffee to drink.

"What's my schedule for today?"

Mr. Kim then checks the ipad on his hand. "Nothing sir..."

"Nothing?" Yoongi frowns. "What you mean nothing?"

Mr. Kim looks at him and tries to see if Yoongi would realize what day it is today. "I guess you really forgot."

"Forgot what?" Yoongi puts down the coffee and pulls his phone out of his pocket to see what day it is. "So, you are telling me you didn't scheduled any work today because of my wedding anniversary yesterday?"

"Yes."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and leans back to his chair. "We have a lot of collections to do, Mr. Kim."

"I know sir. But one day of rest would not hurt." He says, "with your wife."

Raising his brow, Yoongi does not show any hint of any emotion. Mr. Kim could not sense if he's okay with it or not.

Sighing, "Ready the car." Yoongi orders the man standing by the door.

"Where are you going, Sir?" Mr. Kim questions

Yoongi didn't answer though. He just stood up and started walking to exit his office. He even told his men and even Mr. Kim to not follow him which confused most of them.

"Where do you think Master going today?" The young guard asks

Mr. Kim smiles and says, "Not sure where... but looks like he's visiting his wife first."

And he is right. Yoongi is actually stomping his way towards the other wing of the mansion where Y/N's room is located.

"Master." Two maids who are walking along the hallways this early, cleaning, sees him and greets him.

"Is she awake?"

"No sir. Not yet...."

He stops just at her door. "She's usually up early. Right?"

"Yes, master." One answer, "she do get up early... but not today..."

"Is she sick?"

"No... but..." then the maid pauses and lookd hesitant.

"What is it?" Yoongi turns to see why the maid stopped.

"Well...." she lowers her voice. "We heard that... Miss cried so much yesterday."

"Cried?" Yoongi's forehead creases with confusion

"Yes." Both maid answers

"Hmm..." Yoongi then faces Y/N's wooden door and just stayed still for a good few seconds.

"Do you want us to wake her up, Master?" One asks

"No..." he utters as he hold onto the door handle. "Please go ahead and prepare breakfast so when she wakes up at sunrise she could eat...and also... just... leave us alone for a moment..."

Both maids look at each other, surpressing a smile. They know Yoongi is worried about his wife though their master seems to not notice it himself. They find it amusing how their master is... changing. It is very minimal and not really noticable unless you have known him for quite sometime. But it is a big thing.

"We'll let the others know..." the other says, pertaining to not disturb the couple

***

Upon entering Y/N's room, Yoongi finds his wife sleeping so soundly on her queen size bed. Her arms are on her side, spreadout like they are her wings and about to fly. Her eyes, he can see how puffy they are. And her expression, she looks like she really did fell asleep crying. She even fell asleep on the buttom end of her bed.

She's adorable.

"Why did you cried?" Yoongi asks softly as he runs his knuckles on her cheek. "Is it because of me...?" He goes down to sit on the bedroom bench and picks up the book that must've fallen on the floor. "Or is it because... of this book...?" He places the book back on the bed and leans in, to fix her douvet. "I hope it's the latter... don't cry because of me... it's not worth it." He then removes the hair strands covering her face. "also.... I didn't forgot" he then bends over more before planting a soft and delicate kiss on her lips whilst making sure he won't wake her up. "Happy anniversary Y/N..." his eyes scans her face one more time before kissing her again. But this time on her forehead and whispered. "Just wait a bit more..."

***

"Sir..." Mr. Kim bows as Yoongi returns to his home office. "The car is ready..."

However, Yoongi didn't responded. He just walk pass Mr. Kim and go to stand by his office window.

"Is everything alright, Sir?"

Closing his eyes, Yoongi tries to organize his thoughts.

"Mr. Kim..."

"Yes, sir?"

Yoongi opens his eyes, just in time for the a hint of light peaks through the dark sky. "Can you please call my lawyer..."

"Sir?" Mr. Kim wonders why Yoongi suddenly wants him to contact a lawyer. "May I ask, which one?"

Yoongi turns around to face him. "Call Mr. Choi..."

Processing in his mind why Yoongi would like to call the lawyer than made their prenup and marriage contract alk of a sudden. "Okay sir... but may I ask for what reason?"

Yoongi picks up his pack of cigarette and pulls out one stick using his lips. "Just bring him in. I need to talk to him. Privately.... Asap."

"Understood, Sir."

Next: Fate

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