Touch In The Dark MYG

Touch In The Dark — MYG

For the @btswriterscorner​ - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Min Yoongi comes from the prestigious family of Blue Blood lineage. However, to appear philanthropic in the eyes of the public, they volunteered their son to marry someone from “humble” origins. Two years have passed since he’s been married to his poor, orphan wife. But for the first time in two years, he’s starting to take note of things about her that are causing shifts in his views of her, shaking his heart.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female OC (Kiara Townsend)

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of suicide, extreme angst, interracial/intercultural relationship, arranged marriage

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 7,936

AN: I never thought I would write a story like this. I think this is the softest I’ve ever written for the boys. I know I only have one piece of lit for the fandom, but I have to say that this project caught me a little off guard. I never thought I would write Yoongi this soft, but it’s a very non-conventional soft. So I hope you all enjoy the world I was able to build from this, hug your loved ones a little close, and know that you are always loved. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

  ~ k.t. ~

On the day she was told that she’d been chosen as the “Charity Selection” for The Lottery, Kiara tried to kill herself. 

The heavy knocks sounded like thunder inside her tiny, rundown studio apartment. She stared back at her reflection in the bathroom, a handful of sleeping pills clutched in her palm over the porcelain. She’d purchased a full bottle of the prescription strength medication off the black market. It took her months to save up enough money to buy them.

Attempted suicide was a serious offense, punishable by large fines and incarceration for three months, followed by six months of psychiatric evaluation. The global population was already off-kilter with how many people suffered losses from wars, hunger and poverty. Decreasing the numbers in any amount was detrimental to society’s ability to rebuild and stabilize its structure. 

The knocking continued incessantly. Kiara knew if she didn’t answer the door, they would just kick it in and find out what she was up to. Sighing, she put the pills back into the bottle and placed it in the medicine chest behind the smudged mirror.

Twelve paces. That’s how long it took for her to make it from the bathroom to the front door. The ratty sofa doubled as her bed and the thin, pale blue blanket could hardly be considered covers. While Kiara did not get sick often, she could not stay warm during the winter months. Central heating was a luxury she couldn’t afford and space heaters were few and far between. The yellowing paint peeled off the walls and the stainless steel door knobs, once shiny and new, were now dull and gray from years of neglect.

When she opened the door, she was greeted by a man in a three-piece suit and two armed soldiers. He was an official from The Lottery office and he handed her a letter. He congratulated her, telling her how fortunate she was to have been chosen for the “Charity” portion of the Lottery. He explained that everything she needed to know about her future husband was in the envelope and that she could read it on the flight to meet him.

She’d never flown in an airplane before.

Kiara didn’t own much. All of her furniture were either hand-me-downs or things she found on the side of the road. Her clothes, what few she had, could all be stuffed into a single duffel bag. Her friends doted on her, telling her how lucky she was to have been chosen. They all pooled together and bought her a pretty sundress to wear since it was approaching Summer. Kiara promised to contact them whenever she was fully settled.

On the flight over, Kiara took a good look over the files she’d received. 

Yoongi Min. 26. South Korean. Computer programmer. His home was Daegu and he still lived with his family, as per tradition in the country. He was fluent in English, which was a relief. He was definitely handsome - dark auburn hair, pierced ears, and umber eyes that almost appeared a little withdrawn. Or was it sadness?

Was he hurting on the inside too?

At her request, one of the flight attendants gave her a tablet for her to study. She didn’t want to embarrass herself on the first day of meeting him.

If the plane didn’t crash on the way. Kiara could only be so lucky. 

Yoongi wasn’t the one who picked her up from the airport. It was someone from the family’s household staff. He was a kind looking middle-aged man and he helped her load what few belongings she had into the trunk of her car. The drive from Incheon to Daegu was long. The driver, Mr. Song, told her she could take a nap if she liked. But there were so many questions she wanted to ask and she was grateful that he was also fluent in English.

There were things she discovered about Yoongi that she felt she could relate to. He was an avid reader and enjoyed music. He preferred his solitude and when he had the time to spare, he took pictures and tended the garden at his family’s home. There were servants to handle such things as yardwork, but Yoongi insisted on raising seedlings in a greenhouse.

After she arrived at his family’s home, she was welcomed by the rest of the staff. Yoongi, again, did not greet her. His parents did, however. They were not so fluent in English, but they were kind enough to allow one of the maidservants to translate what they were saying to Kiara. She both nodded and shook her head at the appropriate questions. Nothing they asked was outside of a “yes” or “no” response.

“Are you healthy?”

“Are your parents really dead?”

“Were you comfortable on the plane?”

“You’ve never flown on an airplane before, have you?”

And finally, the question that served as Divine Intervention.

“Are you tired?”

The questioning ended when she nodded. It wasn’t that Kiara wanted to avoid her future In-Laws. She really was tired. She refused to nap on the long drive from Incheon to Daegu and the jet lag was starting to rear its ugly head. She could hardly keep her eyes open. After she was escorted to one of the guest rooms, Kiara barely took note of her luggage on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

She fell asleep almost immediately.

When Kiara awoke the next day, she found a handwritten note sitting on the nightstand. Groggy and hungry, she did her best to read the note. Her eyes quickly focused when she realized it was from Yoongi.

Miss Townsend,

I’m glad to see you arrived safely. I know this is a bit of a transition for you, but everything will be fine. I will be out of town on business until the day after tomorrow. Please meet me at City Hall on Wednesday so we can finalize everything.

~ Min Yoongi

Unsure of why, Kiara felt her heart sink. The note seemed so impersonal; business-like. She knew what kind of world they lived in now, but did it really mean that a perpetual wall would exist between them? 

Crumpling the note in her hand, she was grateful to be alone. She didn’t think she’d be able to explain the tears if anyone saw her. Mostly because Kiara, herself, couldn’t understand why she was crying.

~ m.y. ~

The days always began the same.

Yoongi woke up, showered, went downstairs and had his cup of coffee. Two spoonfuls of sugar. No cream. He hated watching television because most channels either rattled on political propaganda or spoke about the “Runners” rebelling against society’s standards for the world. He preferred the soft sounds of jazz peeling from the radio speakers. Sometimes it was purely instrumental. Other times, someone was crooning a song about heartbreak. It was an idea that he didn’t quite understand, but the tones were pleasing to the ears.

He wasn’t a fan of it originally. Yoongi only listened to it because she had it playing while she hung laundry out on the line one warm summer day. “Killing Me Softly” droned from the speakers and he could recall the look on her face when he told her to turn it off immediately. Music containing lyrics had been banned as it was a way for artists to spread their messages of love, freedom, insurrection and justice. 

She didn’t argue with him, but her expression shifted significantly that day.

In their society, love was something that could not be felt because love equaled passion and passion led to impractical thought. Impractical thoughts led to irrational decisions being made. Wars, hatred, violence: they were all ingredients for disaster that nearly wiped out the population of the world.

But mankind couldn’t very well lead itself to extinction. Population growth was necessary, so long as it was monitored and controlled. Maintaining order was paramount in this new age. The Lottery Bill was established across the world - bridging the racial and cultural divide that continued to exist until the United Nations took matters into their own hands.

The class system was determined by lottery. Blue Bloods all the way to Laborers. Everyone had their place and would accept that place. No one would strive to reach above their station as that would disrupt order and breed chaos. To regulate the classes, lotteries were also pulled for marriage. Couples were chosen from like classes to maintain balance in the system. 

But because the world’s government was not cruel, there were families chosen to participate in philanthropic activities. Every year, a small percentage of Laborers were pooled to marry into Blue Blood lineage. It was a way to show the kindness the global governmental body possessed. Most in the Blue Blood class referred to it as “Forced Charity” but they couldn’t argue against the positive impact it had both across the media and in society as a whole.

Min Yoongi’s family was one of the families chosen to participate in the “Forced Charity”. As the only son, he was obligated to be the one to represent their family during The Lottery. 

He didn’t make a fuss. When Yoongi received his Summons in the mail, he went to his district’s City Hall and took the envelope from one of the clerks. He had one week to accept the terms presented in his drawing. Since he was willingly volunteering to marry someone outside of his station, he had one opportunity for a redrawing. But only one.

Yoongi opted out of it.

He was living with his parents still and politely asked that they give him privacy. For five days they tormented him about what his bride was like. It wasn’t out of childish rebellion that he hadn’t given them an answer. It was because he truly didn’t know.

On the sixth day, he finally opened the envelope. 

Inside contained the dossier of his future bride, as well as a single photograph. Everyone who was eligible for The Lottery was required to have their picture taken at their district’s City Hall, regardless of what part of the world they were from. If his bride-to-be had to travel miles to get to him, then that was what had to be done. There would be no objections from either side.

He had no expectations. There was no reason to disagree with the marriage. Yet a part of him hesitated when it was time to call The Lottery office to have them send for her. The same part that looked at her picture and couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking when she was staring back at the camera. Yoongi wondered if he had the same expression on his face when he’d taken his photo.

Kiara Townsend. 26. African-American, German and Scottish. She had no parents and she worked full-time in a textile factory in North America. Her parents were killed during a neighborhood raid of residents who were presumed to have been involved in an underground movement of sorts - advocating free love and speaking out against the societal norms currently in place for the world. 

In the photo, her skin was a golden caramel, hair thick with large curls, and she had prominent brows and a set of full lips. Her eyes, small and hazel in tone, were seemingly endless - like she could see into the very souls of anyone she laid her eyes upon. But there was an emptiness that lingered there in her photo. 

After accepting his lottery choice, she was notified and escorted to his home country of South Korea. In three days, they were married. As a wedding present, his parents bought them their own home - a large estate in the Daegu countryside where they would have privacy. She no longer had to work now that she was married to a Blue Blood. Yoongi worked from home as a computer programmer and only went into town once a month for board meetings.

For the first month, neither of them said a word to each other. It was an unspoken rule that they had their own separate spaces in their home. Yoongi rarely slept and when he did, he slept alone. His wife often slept on the couch and he never bothered her to sleep in her own bed. 

They were like strangers who happened to share the same address.

Four months went by. Yoongi grew more and more numb to his situation. The whole point of marrying someone was to increase the population. Young men and women were fully educated in the concept of sexual intercourse so that there would be no mistakes during the coupling process. No one was truly a virgin when they were age-appropriate for The Lottery. Sex was no longer an act of pleasure in the world. It was a business transaction.

They didn’t have sex. Neither even so much as touched the other.

Six months into their marriage, Yoongi heard Kiara speak for the first time. 

“Can we send the servants home? I want to make dinner tonight.”

The sound of her voice was so soft. He was entranced and nearly forgot to speak. When Yoongi finally found his voice, he replied - realizing that his own tones sounded a little strange to him.

“Alright.”

~ k.t. ~

She hadn’t meant to be silent. There were so many things she wanted to know about her husband. But the very air around him appeared frigid and Kiara knew she didn’t want to bother him. There was a part of her that could sense his loneliness, but she never wanted to push or prod where she wasn’t wanted. The interactions they had between each other were brief, if even at all. 

Kiara didn’t have to want for anything. But was this really a life that she could grow accustomed to? It felt like the more she wanted to grow closer with Yoongi, the further he seemed to appear.

Did he hate her? Or not care about her? When he fussed at her about playing the radio, she wondered if she was simply an eyesore to him.

Wasn’t it better to simply stay out of his way?

The months bled on and while they were finally sharing small bits of conversation here and there, Kiara could sense the gap between them slowly transforming into a chasm. There were times when she caught him looking at her when she was busying herself around the kitchen or even putting away clothes. She was so used to a hard, springy mattress from her pullout bed in her studio that Kiara found it easy to fall asleep on one of the many couches throughout the house.

Their house.

But was it really her house? Could she call it her home?

Eight months into their marriage, she woke up in a bed after having fallen asleep while reading on the sofa. The warm blankets and plush down startled Kiara, causing her to halfway scramble from the bed. The room was unfamiliar to her and she felt slightly trapped. Most people would be elated to wake up in a room with pristine, painted walls, an elegant vanity table, and clean blankets and pillows. It was warm and inviting, something that Kiara saw in the pages of magazines. She never dreamed she would be able to sleep in a room like this. It was part of the reason why she couldn’t bring herself to do it in the first place.

Who could have brought her there? One of the servants, maybe?

Sighing, she took a moment to study the room she was in - the room that was designated as “hers”. It was as unfamiliar to her as the day she first set foot in this country. While Kiara understood the language and continued to learn the customs and culture of South Korea, there was a part of her that still felt strangely out of place. It shouldn’t have been the case, not with The Lottery Bill having been in effect for several years now. 

Only when her raging heartbeat slowed down a measure, did she notice the small note resting on the nightstand. With slightly trembling fingers, Kiara picked up the note and read it.

Stop sleeping on the couch. There’s a perfectly good bed not being put to use. 

You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable for no reason. 

Haven’t you suffered enough in your life?

~ Yoongi

A warm feeling slowly blanketed her entire body. Kiara pressed the note to her chest as she sat on the edge of the bed. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. Relief? Understanding? Perhaps. Maybe even a little hopeful.

There was the faint aroma of spices permeating into her room from the gap below the door. Setting the note down, Kiara left her room and made her way out into the hallway. The stairwell was just a few feet away, but she paused in front of Yoongi’s bedroom. Her eyes lingered a little further to the third door at the other end of the hallway - the master bedroom. It seemed that Yoongi opted to stay in a guest bedroom just like hers.

Was that out of concern for her? Did he not want to appear entitled? 

But that didn’t make any sense. He was a Blue Blood. His very lineage was entitlement, wasn’t it?

So then...why?

Her palm slid along the railing of the stairwell, her bare feet gliding over the perfectly polished wooden floor. She could hear a pot boiling as someone chopped methodically in the kitchen. When she reached the entrance, Kiara peeked her head around the corner. She felt like a small child stumbling across their parent in the middle of some adult task.

Yoongi was focused on chopping vegetables for a stew. The meat was already fully cooked in the broth and he appeared to be putting the final touches on what he was doing. Kiara gazed at his exposed forearms in awe - watching the muscles tensing as he worked. Her eye-line shifted, roving over the curve of his shoulders to the juncture of his slender neck. Sweat gathered around his temple and trailed down his jawline and with each movement, she saw his earrings twinking under the kitchen’s amber light fixture.

She couldn’t recall a time when she’d seen a man as beautiful as her husband. 

As if he’d sensed her presence, Yoongi craned his neck to look at her - his arms moving to slide the vegetables off the carving board and into the stew pot. He turned the burner down while setting the chopping board into the sink. Washing his hands, he then wiped them clean with a dish towel as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Did you sleep well?”

Kiara nodded. “I did, thank you.”

“Good.” 

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch towards the edge of forever. Just as Kiara took a step forward, preparing to offer some kind of assistance, did Yoongi finally break the silence.

“I dismissed the servants,” he offered gently, his gaze meeting hers for what she felt like was the very first time since they were married, “it’s not like they really have much to do around here.”

Kiara didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent. Unconsciously, she began wringing her hands together. She very nearly averted her gaze until he spoke again.

“I’ll probably send them back to my parents’ home.” 

Again, her eyes locked with his. His expression stayed neutral and Kiara felt a lump forming in her throat. 

“Would it be okay if it was just the two of us?”

Her eyes widened slightly, unsure of what he was implying. But it was true that the servants didn’t have much to do in their home. Yoongi hardly made a mess and what mess he did make, he often cleaned up after himself. The same could be said of Kiara. If anything, the servants were often shuffling around and attempting to find something to do so they didn’t appear to have idle hands.

Surely they could take care of themselves, right?

Kiara didn’t know what expression to make, so she kept her face from shifting too much. Maybe it was out of need to keep herself just a little more guarded because of the lack of interaction for so long. She couldn’t be sure. But appearing too vulnerable, too open, could be just as much of a mistake as being too closed off.

Taking a breath, she nodded once more.

“If you’re alright with it, then I would like that, too.”

~ m.y. ~

He didn’t shower her with gifts because of an impulsive decision. 

He bought her things because he knew she chose to go without. 

Kiara came from a world that was vastly different than his own. Yoongi could hardly fathom the idea of not having enough clothes in his closet or enough food in his fridge. But she never complained about anything - whether he bought too much or not enough. She graciously accepted everything that was given. 

What was even more puzzling, however, was how a mild feeling of irritation blossomed when Kiara didn’t utilize the things he’d given her immediately. He knew she was grateful and she rarely made a fuss about anything. The one time he ever saw her upset in the entire year they’d been married was when he’d made the comment about the radio.

Hadn’t they reached a compromise?

Biting his lower lip, he found it difficult to focus on his computer work. Everything looked like Egyptian hieroglyphics, which was saying something considering that Yoongi lived, breathed, and dreamed about coding. He became a computer software programmer out of necessity for the ever-advancing world of technology they lived in. Modern society was growing more and more dependent on smart devices, which would have been a shame had he lived in a different world. 

People often missed the world around them when their eyes were glued to a screen.

The latch unhooked from the door, causing him to shift his gaze from the computer monitor. When it slowly opened, he saw Kiara quietly enter - arms cradling a small serving tray. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers through each other as she approached. She set a plate of toast, jam, and fruit on the desk - her motions smooth and practiced. She finally set the cup of steaming hot coffee beside the plate, as well as utensils wrapped in a cloth napkin. 

“You should take a break,” she said, the tray resting against her stomach, “you’ve been working non-stop for about four hours now.”

He set the computer to hibernation mode. “I didn’t realize I’d been here that long.”

“You can leave the tray outside when you’re finished.”

Yoongi watched her turn to leave, his body reacting before his mind could process what he was doing. Before he realized it, he was out of his chair and reaching out to grasp her shoulder - stopping Kiara from leaving him. He felt her muscles tensing and Yoongi pulled his hand back immediately. Slowly, she turned to face him again.

Her hazel eyes appeared to glow from the twilight rays peeling in through the windows of his office.

His heart crashed into his chest with heavy thuds. A lump slowly formed in his throat and he made a vain attempt to swallow oxygen through the closing airways. Yoongi knew he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what that something was. He opened his mouth to speak and, again, no words came out.

All he could do was push the bubble in his throat down into the knot twisting in his chest.

Sensing something was amiss, Kiara set the tray down on the desk. “Are you alright?” 

Yoongi remained silent, studying the crease on her brow as her curls bounced around cheeks and shoulders. She reached her hand up, pressing the flat of her palm on his forehead.

“You’re a little warm, but you don’t seem to have a fever.”

Every representation of logic was screaming at him to pull away - telling him to replace the wall that existed between them for the last year. She hadn’t moved her hand from his skin and Yoongi felt his vision swimming for half a second before refocusing back on her face.

How had he missed the beauty mark at the corner of her left eye?

Taking a step back, he watched her arm continue to hover in the air for a few seconds before settling back at her side. Yoongi saw something pass over her face, but it was so quick that he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything at all.

Kiara brushed some of her curls behind her ear. “I’ll head to the market and pick up a few things. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them when I come back.”

Then she turned away from him to head out of his study, leaving him alone without so much as a second glance.

His chest hurt.

Flopping back into his chair, Yoongi carded his fingers through his hair in frustration - hands resting at the back of his neck as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

“...I didn’t even thank her.”

~ k.t. ~

The months were getting colder. Kiara wasn’t a fan of the cold, but she loved seeing the snow in South Korea. Everything was covered in a soft blanket of white. It gave her an excuse to indulge in a savory meal, wrap up in a warm blanket, and read by the fireplace. Yoongi was in Seoul for a business meeting, leaving her alone to her own devices. This was the first winter that she would get to experience without the servants around, fussing over her in case she hadn’t acclimated to the weather.

She took a warm bath, drank from a large glass of wine, and enjoyed the book she’d discovered near the back of the library. Most of the books in Yoongi’s library were reference books and non-fiction. She’d combed through most of them. But nestled in the very back, tucked away in a hidden nook, was a small collection of fictional literature. There were more than a dozen; small in comparison to the rest of his library. But the discovery of it surprised her just the same. In the year she’d been married to Yoongi, he always seemed very “by the book” and she couldn’t forget the comment he made about the music she was listening to while hanging up laundry. Finding something of this caliber was like stumbling across buried treasure.

Kiara was currently flipping through the pages of Animal Farm by George Orwell. She chose it because next to 1984 , it had the most worn out spine. It meant that Yoongi read it the most in comparison to the others in his entire collection.

Upon completing the novel, she could see why.

Politics. Justice. Equality. Inequality. A corrupt system. Broken families. Broken societies. A dream that fizzled away to greed - a dream that would only remain a dream so long as dictators felt that “some were more equal than others”.

There was a small part of Kiara that almost seemed to understand Yoongi a little bit better. He was a thinker and also compassionate. He never asked her to do more than what she needed and he readily provided her with anything she would ever need. It was the sort of life that Kiara wasn’t used to for over twenty years of being part of the Labor Class.

Yet something was still missing…

The sudden slamming of the door startled Kiara, causing her to drop the book into the bathwater. She panicked, knocking over the wine glass as she flailed to pull the book out. The pages instantly soaked - some of them were already falling out from the binding. She released a sob while pulling the plug to drain the water, clambering haphazardly out of the tub. Her heel found the bath rug by the tub and she could only cling helplessly to the pages, gathering up what remained in the bathtub into her trembling hands.

There was a knock at the door and she whirled around to face it.

“Is everything alright in there?”

Yoongi was home early. Looking at the ruined book in her hands, Kiara’s heart sank. 

“I-I’m fine,” she said, leaning down to pick up the wine glass, “I’ll be out in just a moment.”

“Take your time.”

When she heard his footsteps fading away, Kiara sighed as she wrapped a towel around her body. She used a smaller one to clean up the mess on the floor - grabbing a small plastic bowl and filling it with water so she could wash what remained to let it drain out in the center of the bathroom. She let out another sigh, brushing her fingers through her wet curls. It was better to be honest and get it over with, wasn’t it?

Drying herself off, she slid into her pajamas, grabbed the ruined book, and made her way downstairs. Yoongi poured himself a drink in the kitchen, taking note of her presence with a simple nod. He held the glass up and out toward her.

“Drink?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I had some wine earlier.”

“Ah, I see,” he replied gently, replacing the cap on the whiskey bottle. 

There was a small measure of silence that stretched between them and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her fingers digging into the wet pages of the book currently hidden behind her back.

“Uh, Yoongi?”

He hummed during mid-sip, swallowing and then setting the glass down. “Yes?”

Slowly, she pulled the book around from behind her and held it out to him from across the kitchen island. “I was reading and dropped one of your books in the bath.”

“It’s just a book,” Yoongi said with a shrug.

Kiara bit her lower lip, her hands shaking as she continued to hold the book out to him - waiting for him to take it from her. He looked like he was about to say something, but she noticed his eyes lingering over the cover. When his eyes scanned over it, they widened slightly and it took everything Kiara had not to wince. Her shoulders visibly tensed when he snatched the book from her hands.

Without another word, he left the kitchen. Kiara followed on instinct, her eyes widening when she saw him throwing the book into the open hearth. The flames seemed to fight against the wet pages, but it didn’t take long for the book to burn. 

“I’m sor--”

Yoongi was already moving, his body disappearing down the corridor. Her legs were rooted where she stood and Kiara wanted nothing more than to disappear between the cracks - to dip below the earth and vanish into the ether. She could hear his hurried steps and the breath left her lungs when she saw him carrying an armful of books.

Books from his hidden collection.

He moved faster than her brain could keep up and by the time she realized what was happening, he’d already thrown three more books into the fire.

“Yoongi, wait!” she cried, running toward him and pulling at his shirt sleeve, “Please wait! I said I was sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Yoongi said nothing. He simply continued to throw the books into the fire. When all of those were devoured by the flames in the fireplace, he turned to head back toward the library. Kiara ran at him, wrapping her arms around his waist to stop him. He took three more steps before stopping completely.

She openly sobbed into his back, soaking his shirt as her fingers dug into his stomach to keep him tethered there.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, clinging to him as if he was a life raft, “I’m sorry…”

She felt the flutter of his beating heart against her face, drumming along her cheeks. It almost seemed manic, but his shoulders finally relaxed as she heard him taking several long, deep breaths. The flames popped and crackled in the fireplace, having had its fill from Yoongi’s literature collection. She knew there were still a few more on the shelf in his hidden nook, but Kiara didn’t think she could handle him destroying the things he clearly seemed to care so much about.

“I haven’t read those books in years,” he murmured gently, “I should have gotten rid of them a long time ago.”

Her hands slid up his chest, curling so that her fingers could slip over the curve of his shoulders. Kiara took a breath, sighing through the scent of his cologne.

“But why?”

“Because they’re dangerous. They provoke dangerous thoughts.” He paused and she lifted her face in time to see his head turning slightly. “It’s why they’ve been banned.”

“They’re precious to you, aren’t they?”

“It’s not worth keeping them if they get you into trouble.”

Taking a step back, she blinked and he turned around to face her. 

“Me?”

Yoongi nodded. “You’re so curious. I should have known that you would stumble across them eventually. But it’s just like with the music. You have to be careful.”

Kiara wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but she knew could tell that he wasn’t upset about her reading his books. He was upset that she had unknowingly placed herself into danger. He was concerned for her well being.

And that meant something to her. More than she would ever admit out loud.

Averting her gaze, she lowered her head slightly. “...I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing,” Yoongi said, an edge in his tone, “it frustrates me.”

She felt his hands around her shoulders, gripping them tightly. He looked like he was going to shake her, but thought better of it. Instead, he loosened his hold - letting his hands continue to rest on her shoulders. When she next looked up at him, his brows were furrowed and his pupils seemed to shake. She wasn’t sure what was still bothering him. Kiara wanted to know what she could do to make him feel less agitated.

But as she opened her mouth to speak, she lost all words of comfort as Yoongi leaned down toward her face. She was almost positive that her heart either skipped a beat or stopped altogether at that moment. Everything was so quiet. Kiara felt his breath dancing gently over her face as he pressed his cheek against hers, his lips brushing over her cheek. 

Kiara was afraid to breathe, believing that the moment she did, it would shatter whatever dream-like illusion she was currently experiencing. The second she heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, however, was when Yoongi pulled away. Blinking up at him rapidly, she was sure that her cheeks were inflamed and her hand absentmindedly went to touch her cheek as his hands slid away from her shoulders.

“...don’t stay up too late,” he said gently.

And then, just like a mirage, he quietly turned away and made his way toward the stairs. When she heard the door to his bedroom shut, she finally collapse to her knees. Kiara’s breathing came out in rushed waves and she buried her face in her hands, stifling a sob that nearly broke through the silence. She wasn’t sure if she should feel elated or devastated.

What was happening between them now?

~ m.y. ~

It had been three months since he burned his private book collection. The more innocent and bright-eyed side from his youth mourned the loss of the texts. He could always purchase them again if need be. He wasn’t exactly hurting for money. But it was the worn edges of the books, the notes he’d made in the margins, that he could never get back. 

Those would be lost forever. 

It’s probably for the best, he thought, sighing as he cradled his cup of coffee in his hands, the lessons have been learned .

He watched the sun setting slowly over the horizon from his back patio. He reflected back to Kiara’s face when he’d torched his books. She’d called them “precious” and she wasn’t exactly wrong. But she wasn’t completely right either.

There were more important things in life than the words on the pages of books. He wanted to be able to tell her that himself, but Yoongi found he couldn’t. He didn’t think the words he had swirling around his head would be enough to get his message across. 

Or maybe she already understood…

He turned to head back inside, closing the sliding glass door behind him. He peered around the main living area, absentmindedly wondering where his wife was. It was still early. Maybe she was still asleep.

As Yoongi moved toward the kitchen, the distinct sound of typing could be heard down the hallway. Blinking, he set his cup down and slowly trudged down the corridor leading to his office. He slowly turned the knob, opening the door to peek inside.

Kiara was rapidly typing at his desk, her eyes focused but clearly tired. Every few minutes, she would stop to roughly hit the tops of her shoulders, rolling her neck to loosen whatever knots were beginning to form there. His eyes wandered to the desk where there was a large stack of papers. Bundles were separated and stacked in varying directions so that there would be no confusion as to what stack belonged with which grouping. 

His printer whirred to life, shooting out page after page of whatever she’d just finished. When the next bundle was complete, Kiara pulled out a pencil and began to write on pages as she sifted through them.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

“What are you doing?”

His voice clearly startled her, nearly causing her to drop the entire packet of paper she had in her hands. Yoongi closed the door behind him, approaching the desk and reaching out for the bundle of papers at the very top of the stack. Kiara made a noise of protest, but his eyes scanned the front curiously.

Then his curiosity gave way to surprise.

“This is…” he began, but realized he couldn’t finish as his eyes landed on the next bundle’s cover page.

Animal Farm by George Orwell.

Yoongi rapidly flipped through the pages of 1984 in his hands. It was written, word-for-word, from what he could remember of the book. The most shocking discovery, however, was seeing his own handwriting along the margins of the pages where he’d taken his own personal notes and written rhetorical questions to ask himself as he read. It was almost too much for him to take in.

Lowering the manuscript at his side, he looked up as Kiara stood from his chair. 

“I felt terrible about you destroying them,” she began, holding her hands up, “and don’t worry! I made sure that there aren’t any digital copies on your computer. Every time I finished one, I would print and delete it right away.”

He said nothing. He just continued to look at her; flabbergasted.

“You have photographic memory.” It was a statement of fact, not a question. 

Kiara nodded. 

“You even put all of my notes back.”

Again, she nodded.

His eyes wandered back to the large stack of papers. If it was separated by novels, then there were at least twenty books in the stack. Maybe more. And if she was taking the time to recreate his own scribbles, who knew how long this was actually going to take; how long she’d already been taking?

Is this what she’s been working on for the last month?

The ream of paper slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor. Kiara gasped, rushing around the desk in a hurry to pick up the discarded pages. He stopped her before she could kneel to the floor, his hand grasping her upper arm to keep her standing. She looked at him with wide eyes and she tried to take a step away from him. But Yoongi held fast, refusing to let her move even an inch away from her. 

“...thank you,” he whispered softly. 

He felt what tension remained in Kiara start to ebb away.

And then she smiled. It was the first time he’d ever seen her smile and it hurt to even look at her. But Yoongi continued to stare at the curve of her lips and the way they turned upward. Her hazel eyes seemed to glitter against the twilight sky pouring in from his office window - the corners crinkling up just a little in response to the smile. He didn’t think it was possible, but Yoongi swore he could hear the sound of his heart breaking and reforming simultaneously. Suddenly, it was difficult for him to breathe, but he tried anyway. It felt like tiny needles were stabbing into the organ beating furiously against his chest, threatening to burst free and fall to the floor.

The logical side of his head, the one screaming at him to run out of the office and as far away from Kiara as humanly possible, was losing against the side that Yoongi didn’t even recognize. Like a time lapse, he watched their life together zip through his mind’s eye - a grainy film projection that continuously focused on every facet of Kiara that he could remember. Everything from big to small - a simple gesture and an even simpler question.

Nothing could compare to the sheer radiance that resulted in her smile.

In that moment, Yoongi knew that he wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. To see it past today and to watch her smile every single day after this one.

He would ask for forgiveness later. He wasn’t about to ask for permission. Not now.

Tugging his arm back, he pulled Kiara close to him. Her chest crashed into his, causing them both to stumble a single step forward and backward respectfully. Her smile disappeared, replaced with confusion. He watched her brows furrow and just as her mouth opened to speak, Yoongi leaned his face in - sealing his lips over hers in a rough kiss.

They both inhaled slowly and he could feel Kiara’s hands grasping at his shoulders. But she didn’t fight him. Instead, he could feel the heavy thud of her own heartbeat attempting to chase the cadence of his. Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he tried to pull her even closer. The smell of her shampoo, her subtle body spray, and how warm and smooth her skin was beneath his touch was almost too much. He feverishly kissed her, nipping and tugging at her full lips which would be swollen from his affection.

Darkness enveloped the sky, plunging them into darkness. The only light in the room came from the computer monitor, reflecting its light against the large bookshelf behind the desk. He pulled away from Kiara’s mouth, his eyes adjusting to the dark quickly as they both took the time to catch their breaths.

“Y-Yoongi,” she stammered, her body trembling slightly in his arms.

“I know what this is.” His voice was low, his breath dancing along her skin as he curled his fingers into the flare of her hip. “This is a problem.”

Even in the dark, he could see Kiara’s worried expression. She wasn’t a fool. She knew what this was just as well as he did. And just like him, she also knew how much of a problem this was.

But it was too late to turn back now.

“I didn’t want to fall in love. I didn’t.” Yoongi lifted one hand up to brush a few of her curls away from her face, resting his palm against her cheek so he could tilt her face further upward. “But then you smiled, and that was the end of everything for me.”

Even as he continued speaking, Yoongi could feel the panic creeping up his throat, threatening to choke the very life out of him. He’d heard of things like this happening in the past, years before he was born. When marriage was a choice made between two people who loved each other. It wasn’t something to be pulled from a Lottery. 

When loving someone was a gift, not a crime. 

A crime or not, Yoongi wanted to know. No. He had to know.

“Do you love me?”

And like he’d struck something buried deep at the core of her, Yoongi watched Kiara’s eyes fill with tears. They streamed down her face endlessly. For a brief second, he believed he’d hurt her feelings; that he’d done something irreparable. 

But then, just like before, Kiara smiled up at him. He felt her hand brushing over his face, her nails lightly scraping over his jawline and resting at the edge of his chin.

“I do,” she replied gently while nodding, “I love you, Min Yoongi.”

Unable to hold himself back, Yoongi kissed her again - their arms entangling themselves with one another. The need to continuously press and touch, to physically express everything they’d collected inside of themselves all this time, was overwhelming. But he couldn’t stop wanting her; wanting the woman he’d come to love little by little every single day and he hadn’t even realized it.

But they couldn’t stay like this forever.

They both pulled away to reclaim the air they’d stolen from one another, catching their breaths momentarily. He could feel Kiara’s ability to hold herself up beginning to wane. Slowly, he lowered them both to the floor - pulling her into his lap so he could cradle her against him. He took comfort in the feel of her arms around his neck, pulling him close so that he could rest his face against the juncture of her neck.

She smelled so good.

“We can’t stay here,” he finally said, his voice muffled in his own ears from the heavy thrumming of her heart, “they’ll find out eventually and we’ll both be thrown into prison.”

Her chest rose and fell as she sighed. “Where will we go?”

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

Yoongi smiled as he closed his eyes. “Anywhere but here.”

A moment of silence passed and he felt her sigh again, but her heart beat began to settle.

“Will anyone be able to help us?”

“I’m sure we aren’t the first ones to experience this.” Yoongi raised his head up so he could look at her. “And we won’t be the last.”

He watched her canting her head a little. “Is everything going to be alright?”

Yoongi gave a slight shrug, causing Kiara to giggle a little. “Even if it isn't, it doesn’t matter. I love you, Kiara.” Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers. “Stay with me. ...please.”

As they looked at each other, Yoongi couldn’t help but drink in everything about her. Kiara’s eyes fluttered before closing and he quickly closed what little distance existed between them. This kiss was less intense, soft and meaningful - pulling and tugging at a want that perpetually nagged at him from the shadows for so long. Kiara shed light on the dark crevice of his heart - a part of him that he’d believed was simply meant to be there and to feel nothing else. To want nothing else.

Yoongi wasn’t sure if he was lucky or not, but he knew that he was thankful. He’d been so hollow for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to feel anything; to yearn for something so much that the desire itself could swallow a person whole. But it was a feeling that made him remember what being alive was supposed to entail; what it truly meant.

Love. 

Her love.

His love.

This love.

Their love.

Plagerizim Found

It has come to my attention that this user, @/roiainfires on Wattpad, has stolen the works of many, many authors from here. In short, I just want to say. Show the real authors some love, please. They work tirelessly on these for us for free! They deserve the recognition for these masterful works of art! So far the list of original authors stolen from is:

Itch by @ironicarmy Somnolent by @forgottenpasta Demon (actually titled Welcome to the Underworld) by @spookitokki CAM (actually A Piece of You) by @/httpjeon Virgin Kookie (actually titled I want to have sex) by @jeongi Friends to Lovers (actually titled It’s Not You, It’s Me) by @gashinabts Masturbate (actually titled Master-bait) by @kookswife His First Time (actually titled Will You Make a Mess Now) by @softyoongiionly Tease (actually titled Long Black) by @jamaisjoons Dirty Talk (actually titled Talk to Me in Korean) by @softyoongiionly  Jealous (actually titled Slightly Jealous) by @floralseokjin Fantasize by @mimithings97 Gamer (actually titled Distractions) by @loeybimbo After Hours (actually titled Needy) by @delugguk Good Girl by @suga-kookiemonster Pregnant (actually titled Four Months) by @jjungkookislife Roommate (actually titled Restraints, and butt plugs, and orgasm denial, oh my!) by @jungkookiebus Teacher Roleplay (actually titled I’ll Break You In) by @prolixitae The Choreographer by @x-btsmfanfics Selfishly Mine by @kimnjss Ot7 (actually titled BTS reaction eye contact during sex) by @lavishedinjimin  Mr. Jeon? by @jjungkookislife Handcuffs by @jungkookiebus See You by @gimmesumsuga Want to Sleep (actually titled Insomnia) by @hobiwonder Chem (actually titled Prop-anal) by @kookswife

Secret Admirer - Valentine’s Project

-     Love is in the air     -

We here at K Smut Club want to wish everyone a very Happy Valentine’s Day this season. We are so excited to announce our first Valentine’s project in collaboration with @ficswithluv​, @bangtansmutcentral​, and @magicshopnet​.

-     How will the Valentine’s Secret Admirer Project work?    -

The admins of K Smut Club will give each participant a name and URL of another participating member. From January 13th to February 13th you are that person’s Secret Admirer.

-    Who can participate?    -

Any member of @ksmutclub​, @ficswithluv​, @bangtansmutcentral​, @magicshopnet​ can participate.

-    As a Secret Admirer, you have the following responsibilities    -

Create a gift for the person you have related to their bias.

Leave kind, anonymous messages in their ask box 2-3 times per week, signed with - your Secret Admirer (your pseudo) Note: you will choose this pseudonym when you sign-up.

Keep your identity secret.

Keep your own ask box open and allowing anonymous messages for the duration of the project.

-    What counts as a gift?    -

Moodboards

A Fic

Gifset

Fanart

A Heartfelt Letter

-     When should you post your gift and reveal your identity    -

Post your gift on February 14th with a tag for your Valentine. Please include the following tag with your usual network tags, #secretadmirer2020. We will then add your work to the project masterlist which will be posted on February 16th.

-    Dates to keep in mind    -

December 20th: Sign-ups open

January 10th: Sign-ups close

January 12th: messages with pairs sent

February 14th: Posting Day 11:59pm ET

February 16th: Masterlist posted

All dates and times are on K Smut Club time (-05:00 UTC / Eastern USA time)

                   Sign-up here!

Welcome New Followers! We're doing a 100 follower special! Get in on the fun! We're still in the open period to accept requests!

-Admin

100 Follower Drabble Celebration

Well! We didn’t think this would happen but here it is! Admins L, E and T are opening our Ask Box for our 100 Follower Milestone! We will welcome asks for this event starting today 2/9/2020 and going all the way up until 2/16/2020!

It can be any member from any of the groups we write for so please see our FAQ’s with the information about that as well as what we’re willing to write for! Also we will have a poll up shortly about what you’d like to see more from us!

Again, thanks for the love and the appreciation so give us what you got! All three Admins will answer you!

“That’s starting to get annoying”

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You can’t just sit there all day.”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“I need a place to stay.”

“Well, that’s tragic.”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“Dear Diary, …”

“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”

“I lost our baby.”

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”

“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.”

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“You’re Satan.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies.”

“I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

“Did you just hiss at me?”

“Do you really need all that candy?”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”

“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

“No. Regrets.”

“How drunk was I?”

“How is my wife more badass than me?”

“Be you. No one else can.”

“I haven’t slept in ages.”

“I locked the keys in the car.”

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

“You work for me. You are my slave.”

“Take your medicine.”

“They’re monsters.”

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

“Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”

“It’s your turn to make dinner.”

“The kids, they ambushed me.”

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!!!”

“Stop being so cute.”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final.”

“I was a joke, baby. I swear.”

“Dogs don’t wear clothes!”

“I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…”

“Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”

“This is girl talk, so leave.”

“Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”

“There’s a herd of them!”

“Do you think I’m scared of a woman?”

“They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“I’m late.”

“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?!”

“You smell like a wet dog.”

“I could punch you right now.”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

“If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?”

“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”

“Here, take my blanket.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“How could I ever forget about you?”

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

“Run for it!”

“We need to talk.”

“Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that. It’s annoying.”

“I want a pet.”

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Quit beating me up!”

“Please put your penis away.”

“It’s a Texas thing.”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.”

“I hope I’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”

“Does he know about the baby?”

“Hold still.”

“I just ironed these pants!”

“Enough with the sass!”

“Show me what’s behind your back.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

“Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”

“Stay awake.”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!”

“You’re not interested, are you?”

“I’m not buying ikea furniture again.”

“Tell me you need me.”

“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”

“I had a bad dream again.”

“Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.”

“It’s Christmas, don’t be mad at me.”

“You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving.”

“The store ran out of Easter eggs.”

“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

No Words, pt 9

Pairing: Taehyung x Jeongguk x OC [ft.  Namjoon x OC]

Type: Series

Chapter Rating: M 

Genre: Idol, Poly, Interracial, Tall Female, Smut, Angst, Fluff [if you squint]

Warning: Vivian. That’s right, the warning is Vivian.

A/N - I fell into that pit of ‘what are you doing with this trash story’ style negative brain activity. Things took a turn. I’m sorry for making you wait. This story is still a mess. We’re back on the tracks, folks!

Words:  2.5k

---

Tasha watched her friend huddle over notebooks with her brow deeply furrowed. The holidays were rushing up to greet them, and they were bustling to finish their course-load. They had been pouring over notebooks, comparing notes, and debating practicums for the last few weeks. They were huddled with the newbies in the common room at the Hannam-dong dorm space. It was easy to help the new kids with their first-year work. It was a big boost of confidence, and perhaps ego that they could spout off the answers and explanations so easily.

But, as the older kids on the block? Things had changed technologically for them. The American vs. Korean applications of sound and camera work were on a whole different scale. Their whole purpose was a comparison of the two. Yet, they found themselves in a conundrum. It was simple, really it was, that with the consumption of Hallyu in the rest of the world - people were developing different expectations for music videos and shows. They were in the front seat of this grand show of change. Now, this isn’t to say that there weren’t pioneers.

There would always be respect for those that paved the way prior. Those bold visionaries that twisted their earlier experiences. But like all things, time brings change and new technology. They were barely scraping the surface of the musical experience. People weren’t satisfied with the entertainer simply being still surrounded by bodies. There was a want for more of a storytelling aspect. Or, they wanted snappy effects that added something. The thing is people were wanting more than what they were getting.

“Ahhh! My eyes are starting to cross. I swear to GOD.” Tasha rubbed her face flinging those rainbow-colored plaits out of her face. She turned to the others as they stared at blinking cursors paused in mid-sentence. She groaned, checking the time, “Ok, guys. Let’s…let’s stop, for now, yea?” A few agree to shut their laptops down - except for one person.

“Hey, we have a function to get ready for, missy.” The clickity-clack of keys had slowed from the beginning of their session but remained steady.

“I’m well aware of that, Tasha.” She quipped as she stared over the top of her glasses. Tasha grunted as the new kids laughed.

“Come on, we know she’s the nerd of the group. Are you surprised?” Tasha’s gaze narrowed to the owner of that voice. “I’m surprised she managed to have any fun while being here.” The bad attempt sarcasm rubbed Tasha the wrong fucking way.

There was always one in every group! That one person that thought they were so fucking cool - and pretty and popular. Even if that person was extremely beautiful and found themselves in the center of attention, all the g’damned time. Tasha was about to say something, but it was cut short when three familiar voices echoed out in the hallway.

Tasha blinked because those three voices belonged to none other than…

“Taehyung-ah, Gguk-ah, seriously.” Namjoon groaned into a laugh as they turned to enter the common room. “O-oh.” He stopped abruptly, and the maknae line bumped into him.

“Ah, Hyung! I almost stepped on - Oh.” Jeongguk blinked when Taehyung tapped him on the shoulder. The new kids still had to get used to just randomly running into BTS members throughout the day. The first group merely bowed or waved, muttering greetings. Tasha’s eyes whipped quickly to her bag when she locked gazes with Namjoon. She coughed lightly, clapping her hands. “Ah, well. We should probably start getting ready, guys.” A thumb jutted to the partly dressed trio shuffling into the room.

“Ah! It’s the oppa’s!” That voice piped up again, and Tasha did everything in her power not to hurl. But that girl jumped up, clapping her hands together. “You guys look good! We should be so lucky to be escorted by such dapper gentlemen.”

Everyone rolled their eyes. Namjoon was kinder - and refrained. “Ah, well. You know it’s a special occasion. You all make sure you talk to people and network.” She giggled lightly, placing the tips of her fingers along Namjoon’s forearm.

Namjoon coughed softly as he stepped around her - leaving Taehyung and Jeongguk to be prodded at instead. The soft taps of a keyboard still echoed as Namjoon continued. “The first group here really set a tone that we hope you can follow.” A brow arched as he spun on his heels.

The new kids smirked, staring at the one who continued to type. That girl - ah, she had a name. Vivian the Vivacious. That’s what she called herself - the life of every party. She slipped an arm through Tae and Gguk’s as if she was the prize between them. “I am sure we’ll meet and exceed every expectation required of us.” Haughty, as she tossed those long raven locks over her shoulder.

It was apparent she was the Queen Bee among the new kids. There was always one.

Tasha inhaled deeply as suddenly the sound of keys ticking stopped. A soft exhale broke a thick silence. “Vivian.” Everyone turned to her, even Tasha stiffened momentarily, as she removed her glasses. “There’s a saying that comes to mind.” She stashed her glasses in their case. “Overconfidence is the most dangerous form of carelessness.” A brow arched upward as she neatly collected her things.

There was a subtle warning in her tone that she didn’t bother to hide. “I don’t care what you think about me, but do not take my silence as putting up with your bullshit.” She turned to the rest of the new kids. “Do not embarrass us tonight. Because I’m the one standing between your continued presence here…” She hefted her bag on her shoulder. “…and long coach ride back to where the fuck you came from.”

Tasha had to turn in the opposite direction to hide the smile, threatening to split her face. Namjoon caught it and tilted his head upward, a hand over his mouth. Taehyung and Jeongguk were torn between something akin to awe and lust. Vivian glared at her as she smiled, her grasp tightening on Tae and Gguk’s forearms. They both turned their gaze to the top of the girl’s head.

Tasha was close to losing her shit. “Ok! Alright! Let’s go! We’re wasting time.” She bowed to the trio, refusing to reach for Vivian as she beat feet out of the common room. The other first-year folks left with satisfied looks on their faces.

She decided to follow-up the last of them, pausing by Vivian as she clung to the maknae members. “And I’ll have you know, I was plenty of fun while I was here. Maybe you’ll get a chance to sing karaoke with Jeongguk-ah.” Her gaze slid up between the two of them.

Her pupils went wide to match theirs as her lips parted on a smirk. That look lowered to Vivian as she tilted the corner of her lips. “Maybe if you’re as fun as me.” She waltzed out of the common room, leaving Vivian scowling.

“Jeongguk-oppa! You think I’m fun, don’t you?” Vivian tilted a lookup through thick lashes, fluttering them prettily at the maknae.

Who was paying her no mind?

She turned to Taehyung prepared to do the same, and she paused. The look that he gave her caused her to wither, just slightly. He looked like a haughty Prince, curious about the status of the person touching him. Her fingers slid away from his arm, and she turned to see Jeongguk with a brow arched at her fingers. “Oh come on, I’m much more fun than she is!” She pressed her cleavage against his side - and he moved as if he’d been burned.

“Vivian,” Namjoon spoke quietly. “I think you should go get ready. You don’t want to get left behind.” He grabbed the apple he wanted originally and breezed by her. Taehyung offered that boxy smile with a slight bow, as he followed. Jeongguk fell in step, looking exasperated as they went to visit the stylist.

Vivian continued to scowl but was broken from that facade of purity and fun. The sound of crisp fruit being pierced by that dimpled half-smile. Namjoon tilted his head as he shook the apple in her direction. “And I’d keep that in mind.” He finished chewing, leaning back on his heels. “…because, you will get left behind if you’re not careful.” He watched as Vivian crossed her arms, schooling a neutral expression. “Make us proud tonight.” Namjoon walked off with a partial smile, leaving her to scowl by herself. He rounded the corner, rubbing absently at where she touched him.

It’s fine. He’d just have to rub himself all over Tasha later on to cure himself.

—

“She’s infuriating! I hate her! Hate is a strong word, isn’t it?” Tasha paced in her thigh-highs, the snaps of a garter belt clicking. “Is that wrong? Should I feel bad?” She threw her hands up as if she was suffering some moral dilemma. “God, there’s one in every bunch!” Tasha continued to rumble and rant in her fury.

“Latasha.” She sighed as her friend finally paused. “You do realize you have yet to put your dress on?” A brow arched as Tasha finally saw the time.

“Shit!” She skittered to the other room to pull on the perfect black dress. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?!” Tasha whined as she pulled the curl rods from her updo.

“I tried. You kept going back to how pretty, perfect, and detestable she is.” Tasha grunted as she hobbled up to the front, finally settling herself in two-inch heels.

“Well, shit. You kept oddly cool for where she wound up.” Tasha mused with a smirk as she watched her friend clip on a dangly earring set. A set of large hoops in the other hole as the dangling stars seemed to swing in its opening.

“Look, we earned our spots working with the members. I’m not going to let petty jealousy cloud my judgment.” She arched a brow while pressing a red stick across the swell of her lip. It was a bold color choice. Hell, her whole ensemble was bright.

It wasn’t that the dress was short - it was that she was tall. And this happened every time, where this would be a reasonable fit for average height? For her? Well, it was snug on her hips and just passed her knees - and that is only by a wing and a prayer. That paired with heels that catapulted her into the near six-foot-tall range of height? Completed the look.

Tasha had spent the whole day previously blowing out her hair. A silk press left her hair in a shiny fall of layered waves about her shoulders. She turned around as Tasha gave her a final appraisal.

“Damn, I am good. Maybe this tech stuff isn’t my calling. Maybe they’ll let me be a stylist?” They both stared at each other before falling into a peal of laughter. Tasha grabbed her jacket and purse, offering an arm to escort them from her apartment.

“You good, chick?” She stared down at her friend as they walked quietly toward their transportation.

“Yeah, you’re right. We earned our spots.” Tasha nodded with a substantial lift to her confidence. They smiled at each other as they approached the building foyer. Folks were already being loaded into SUVs. They were the last ones to arrive as the boys from BTS made their way down to wait for their perspective cars.

The two women turned with a whistle at the cleaned-up crew.

“Ohmygod. It’s BTS. Should we ask for an autograph?” Tasha leaned in, pretending to whisper while being excruciatingly obvious.

“I don’t know, do you think they’ll even notice us?” She responded just as obviously.

“Ahh, our adoring fans! How could we ever not notice you.” Jin threw a trademark kiss in their direction. Jimin rolled his eyes while moving between them.

“I think we would be doing the world a disservice if we didn’t notice our adoring fans. Someone take a picture quick!.” Jimin did his best James Bond look while the girls posed on the side. “Ok, as we practiced.”

“Ah! This is more embarrassing than Jin-hyung and his jokes.” Hobi laughed - but snapped the photo anyway. “Yes, yes! More! More!” They made devious faces at each other, smoldering looks as Jimin wrapped his arm around each girl’s waist.

“Ok, ok. That’s enough. That’s enough.” Namjoon chuckled as Jimin frowned. “We’re holding up the line.” Tasha was tugged gently away from Jimin, causing her brows to arch upward. “You look really nice.” She smiled widely.

“Why, thank you, Namjoon-ah. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Jin, Hobi, and Jimin rolled their eyes with playful groans.

Taehyung, on the other hand, got a chance to approach her for the first time in what seemed like - months. Oh, because it had been. They’d been increasingly busy since their karaoke escapade. It worked out to her favor, of course.

But now?

“You look beautiful.” The depth of his tone littered goosebumps across her skin. A response she just couldn’t help as he stood just behind her. Their body heat clashed as she glanced over her shoulder.

“Wow, Noona.” Jeongguk approached with his hands in his pockets. And although the maknae was wearing that wide bunny smile? His eyes wore something else entirely. They all looked impeccable, their styling team truly outdid themselves.

Yoongi clicked his tongue against his teeth as he shuffled toward the door. “You all need to pick your lips up off the floor so we can get in the car.” The girls chuckled, making swift getaways from their captors as he held the door for them.

“Thanks, Yoongi.” The girls spoke in sing-song unison as they exited. He shook his head as he watched them get packed into an SUV.

He scratched at the back of his neck, a slight tilt of his head. “I think we have the most beautiful women in all the networks with us tonight.” Everybody turned to Min Yoongi with their mouths agape. He gave a careless shrug as he toed the door back open. “I’m human too, you know? Let’s go, yea?”

The wind tousled his hair a bit as he adjusted his cufflinks.

“Should we be worried?” Taehyung turned to Namjoon, who was still shocked.

“Uh. I…don’t …know?” Namjoon’s brow furrowed as Jimin squeezed by them.

“You should be worried.” Jimin teased with a brow waggle as he jogged to catch up with Yoongi.

Hoseok and Jin grinned, moving by after clapping a hand on the trio’s shoulder. “I wonder if he’s going to get to dance with them first?” Jin mused, loudly, to Hoseok. The Dance Captain tilted his head in deep concentration.

“Not before I get to ask first.”

Jeongguk balked, pushing the door open to speed up to protest. “H-hey, Hobi-hyung! W-wait just a minute!”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep groan. Namjoon sighed, “I know, Taehyung-ah. I know. Just remember to mind your manners, alright?”

Taehyung smirked while tucking his thumb in his lapel. His tone was deep and thickened by the weight of his satoori. “Hey, Hyung, don’t worry.” He moved forward, opening the door for Namjoon. “…I’m a great actor, remember?” Taehyung popped his tongue with a wink as the Leader shook his head with a dimpled smile.

“Let’s not give them too much of a show, yeah?” Namjoon arched a brow. The two shared a look before stepping into the waiting SUV

crying petals — pjm

This original story has been written for the @btswriterscorner​ - Amor Fabula Project in honour of Valentine’s Week! 

Plot: Story of cotton fields and vanilla kisses as a pair of friends living together for years are hit with a stunning revelation that could strengthen or destroy their relationship. 

Rating: G | PG | Mature | Explicit

Genre: roommates!au | angst, smut

Pairing: Model!Jimin x Artist!OC/Reader (Gaia) ft. Lawyer!Seokjin 

Warnings: unrequited love themes (but like not at the same time lol), lots of emotional tension, the relationships can sometimes be complicated to explain but that’s sort of the point, sexual content (unprotected sex—stay safe pleeease, fingering, kitchen sex). 

Links: Guidelines | Masterlist | Request List (reqs closed)

Word Count: 7.5k 

A/N: I’ve been so hyped to write this that I ended up drafting and editing within three days. I hope you enjoy! Also!! my story is literally such a simple, stupid idea but seriously check out the other stories in the Amor Fabula project, there’s some serious intense fics coming your way!! As always reblogging, commenting and replying give life to a writer! 

© by flowerwrites. All rights reserved. No reposting or translating allowed.

Letting herself drown into a pool, throat suffocating with flowers and her mind swirling with uncontrollable jolts of need was never healthy. Even his scent as it lingered in the air, a strange mixture of cotton and vanilla began to haunt her in dreams as well in real life. It wasn’t healthy in the slightest.

Gaia tried to focus on her paintings, long hours spent staining her fingers and filling up canvas. All of them sketches of stupid plump lips and striking eyes that sucked you in. Lured you like a sailor to a siren. So she stopped painting people but then she made cotton plants, vanilla flowers and warm rays of sunshine gleaming down on them. A defeated sigh passed her lips, a curly tress escaping from her loose ponytail and hanging over her head.

“Pretty.” The honey voice startled her for a moment but Gaia became far too good at hiding the way her heart jumped whenever he was near.

Jimin raked his fingers through his golden blond hair and relaxed onto the couch next to her. “I like cotton flowers.” He leaned forward to take a closer look at the work.

“I know.” Gaia smiled faintly. Even as a metaphor, the painting looked so damn obvious.

“Is this my secret gift?”

She scoffed in a mocking tone. “Excuse me, this is for sale.”

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