Min Yoongi Angst - Tumblr Posts

frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

el dorado (엘도라도) — min yoongi (민윤기)

✧.* 18+

the sun had barely risen, casting its first golden rays upon daegu as you stood on the balcony of your lavish penthouse, overlooking the city. the view was both magnificent and disheartening. from the north, the cityscape gleamed with the brilliance of affluence. skyscrapers glittered like diamonds, their glass facades reflecting the morning light. luxury cars, sleek and polished, glided silently along the pristine roads, while high-end boutiques and gourmet cafés beckoned from below.

yet, beyond the northern skyline, the stark contrast of south daegu lay sprawled in muted colors. there, the city’s essence was raw and unrefined. the buildings were worn and aged, their facades bearing the marks of countless years. streets teemed with vendors selling their modest goods, and the air carried the hum of industrious activity mixed with a tinge of despair. the people moved with a sense of quiet resignation, their eyes reflecting a daily struggle for survival.

in the comfort of your penthouse, surrounded by opulent decor and the finest amenities, the divide between north and south daegu felt as though it was etched into the very fabric of the city. it was not merely a physical separation but an emotional and social chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. you sipped your coffee, the rich aroma filling the air, and contemplated the weight of your father’s legacy and the monumental task ahead.

the less fortunate lived on the other side of this divide. min yoongi's world was a reflection of the south—a realm defined by resilience and resourcefulness amidst hardship. it was in these gritty streets that he had forged his path. his life, a stark juxtaposition to yours, was marked by constant striving for a break from the shackles of poverty. his family’s modest home, with its peeling paint and cramped quarters, bore witness to years of struggle. yet, amidst the scarcity, there was a certain warmth, a community spirit that thrived even in the face of adversity.

el dorado—the very name conjured images of opulence and mystery, a shimmering city of gold nestled somewhere beyond the known maps of the world. in the realm of myth and legend, el dorado was not merely a place but a symbol of ultimate wealth and grandeur. it represented the unattainable dream of countless adventurers, a beacon of hope and avarice that has captivated imaginations across centuries and continents.

visions of el dorado were as varied as they were vivid. imagine a city where the streets were paved with gold and the walls of grand palaces were adorned with intricate mosaics of precious metals. rivers of liquid gold flowed through lush, verdant landscapes, and the very air sparkled with the dust of untold riches. in that imagined paradise, luxury was not an aspiration but a reality woven into the fabric of daily life. the legend assured that only the worthy could come across the city of gold, and you were sure it was your destiny.

the rain fell steadily, its rhythmic patter blending with the mournful strains of a distant funeral dirge. the sky, a dismal gray, wept alongside the mourners who had gathered to pay their respects. the gravesite, a somber and serene expanse, was blanketed by a fine mist, rendering the scene both melancholic and ethereal.

you stood alone beside your father’s freshly turned grave, the elaborate marble headstone gleaming under the droplets of rain. the memorial photograph of your father, framed in an ornate silver plaque, looked back at you with a serene yet distant gaze. his eyes, forever captured in a moment of composure and strength, seemed to echo the weight of the legacy he had left behind.

tears traced paths down your cheeks, mingling with the raindrops as you stared at the photograph. the sight of his image brought a piercing ache to your heart, an overwhelming flood of grief that threatened to consume you. the grandeur of his achievements, the opulence of his life, and the unfulfilled promise of his dreams all seemed to converge upon this solitary moment.

in the midst of your sorrow, you sensed a presence—a subtle shift in the atmosphere. turning slightly, you caught sight of min yoongi standing nearby. he was positioned just a few feet away, his figure slightly obscured by the veil of rain. unlike you, who was consumed by the weight of personal loss and duty, yoongi’s attention was fixed intently on the grave.

he was soaked through, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes clinging to him in a manner that mirrored your own state of disarray. yet, his focus was unwavering, a silent vigil in the midst of your personal anguish. his posture was rigid, his gaze unblinking as he regarded the headstone, the significance of the scene seemingly etched deeply into his expression. you could not quite discern the thoughts behind his solemn demeanor. his presence, though unexpected, seemed to be an unspoken tribute to your father, perhaps a testament to the respect he had for the man who had employed him. there was no hint of intrusion or disrespect; instead, there was a quiet solidarity in his silence. you couldn't place the look on his face. then again, you didn't know him all that well, having had only one encounter. you removed your gaze from him, your thoughts drifting back to a memory that seemed both distant and vivid.

it was a hazy afternoon, the sun casting dappled shadows on the gentle waves as you slept on the deck of your family's yacht. the tranquility of the boat had lulled you into a peaceful slumber, the soft rocking of the vessel a gentle cradle. the serenity of the moment was abruptly disrupted by a muffled sound, a soft rustling that stirred you from your nap. blinking groggily, you opened your eyes to find the boat's interior bathed in a soft, golden hue from the afternoon light. it was then that you noticed a figure moving stealthily near the scuba gear locker. you immediately recognized him.

he was hunched over, his movements deliberate but not quite smooth, as if he were trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. your curiosity piqued, you sat up, the slight creak of the boat’s deck betraying your awakening. as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, yoongi glanced up and froze, his expression one of startled surprise.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and mild amusement. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, yoongi seemed at a loss for words. he fumbled with the equipment, a sheen of nervous sweat glistening on his forehead. “i’m just topping off the tanks,” he stammered, his voice wavering. his eyes darted to the empty, wet scuba gear spread across the deck, and a flash of panic crossed his features.

you raised an eyebrow, noting the strange sight of the wet, empty gear. “topping off the tanks?” you repeated, your tone laced with skepticism. “why is everything soaked and empty then?” his panic was palpable now, his usually composed demeanor shattered by your direct questioning. “please, don’t tell your father,” he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. there was an earnest desperation in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

you studied him for a moment, the gravity of the situation mingling with a growing sense of mischief. “caught his employee red-handed,” you said with a teasing smile. the amusement in your voice was barely concealed, and you watched as yoongi’s face turned an even deeper shade of worry. his eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step toward you, his hands wringing together nervously. “i’m really sorry,” he said, his voice strained. “i didn’t mean to—”

seeing the sheer anxiety in his eyes, you decided to ease the tension. “relax,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “i won’t say a word. consider it a secret between us.” a look of immense relief washed over his face, and he let out a soft sigh of gratitude. “thank you,” he said earnestly, his gaze meeting yours with genuine appreciation. “i promise it won’t happen again.”

in that fleeting moment, the air between you shifted. the playful teasing had given way to a quiet, unspoken bond—a shared understanding that transcended the usual dynamics of employer and employee. yoongi’s smile, though nervous, was heartfelt, and it lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to his task, working diligently to restore the equipment to its proper place.

the penthouse, usually a haven of opulence and comfort, felt uncharacteristically hollow as you walked through its vast, echoing spaces. the grandeur of the high ceilings and the sweeping views of the city did little to ease the emptiness that weighed heavily upon you. your father’s presence, once a commanding and reassuring force, was now conspicuously absent, leaving behind a palpable silence.

you wandered aimlessly, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpets that stretched beneath you. each room you entered seemed to whisper reminders of him—the elegant furnishings, the carefully curated artworks, the personal touches that spoke of his life and personality. yet, despite the luxury and the meticulous design, the place felt colder, more distant, without him.

as you moved through the penthouse, you found yourself drawn to his study—a room that had always been shrouded in an aura of secrecy and reverence. it was a place you had rarely entered during his lifetime, a domain reserved for his most private thoughts and intricate dealings. you hesitated before the door, a feeling of intrusion gnawing at you. but curiosity, combined with the pressing need to understand the extent of his plans, urged you forward.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door, and the scene before you struck you with a jolt. the study was in disarray, a stark contrast to the usually immaculate order that characterized your father's workspaces. the once pristine desk was now cluttered with scattered papers, some strewn haphazardly across the floor. the large window on one side of the room had been shattered, the jagged edges glistening ominously. rain had begun to seep in through the broken glass, pooling on the hardwood floor and mingling with the debris.

you stepped further inside, your heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and determination. the chaos was overwhelming, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that had consumed your father in his final days. you moved cautiously, your eyes scanning the room for any clue that might shed light on his final projects.

approaching the desk, you began sifting through the papers. most were invoices, financial reports, and documents related to his various investments. yet, amidst the mundane clutter, one document caught your eye. it was partially crumpled and stained, its edges rough and disheveled. bold, black letters emblazoned across the top read, “el dorado.”

your pulse quickened as you carefully unfolded the paper. the document revealed an intricately detailed map, its aged surface marked with symbols and annotations that hinted at a journey. the map depicted a labyrinth of rivers, mountains, and dense forests, converging on a central location that was highlighted in a golden hue—a conspicuous nod to the legendary city of gold. as you studied it, the countless stories your father had told you about el dorado surged back into your memory. you had always dismissed them as fanciful tales, embellishments of adventure and myth. the allure of the lost city seemed trivial compared to the realities of his empire.

but now, seeing the map and the evident planning that had gone into it, the fascination with el dorado took on a new, unsettling significance. it was not merely a whimsical obsession; it was a meticulously orchestrated pursuit, a strategic endeavor to uncover something of immense value. the realization dawned on you that your father’s fascination was, in fact, a grand plan—a plan that had been in motion for years, driven by a desire to find the lost city and secure its treasures.

the weight of this discovery pressed heavily upon you. the idea that your father had been so consumed by this quest, to the point of neglecting other aspects of his life, was both astonishing and disconcerting. yet, it also clarified your path forward. the map was more than just a relic of his dreams; it was a tangible link to his legacy, a call to action.

yoongi sat on the edge of the docks, the cool evening air ruffling his hair as he took a slow drag from his joint. the sky was a muted canvas of twilight hues, the fading light casting long shadows over the wooden planks beneath him. beside him, his friend leaned back against a crate, his own joint smoldering between his fingers. the gentle lapping of the water against the pilings below created a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to their conversation.

hoseok broke the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity. “so, now that your employer’s gone—how do you feel about it?” yoongi exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression guarded. he scoffed lightly, not entirely surprised by the question. “don’t joke about it,” he said, his tone more serious than hoseok’s casual demeanor suggested. “the man was alright for a chaebol.”

hoseok chuckled, his eyes narrowing with a hint of cynicism. “they’re all the same, are they not? it makes no difference whether they’re alive or dead. they’ve got their own world, and it’s nothing like ours.” yoongi’s gaze shifted to the water, his attention wavering as he became lost in thought. hoseok, noticing his friend's distracted demeanor, raised an eyebrow. “what’s on your mind, yoongi? you seem a bit off.”

yoongi took another drag from his joint, the embers glowing softly in the gathering darkness. he let the smoke curl around him, his eyes distant. “gold,” he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. hoseok laughed, a hearty sound that seemed to echo off the water. “isn’t that what we’re all thinking about? gold’s always on our minds.”

yoongi shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, enigmatic smile. “gold, the city of gold.” hoseok’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of puzzled interest. “the city of gold? you mean that old myth?”

yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he met his gaze. “it’s not just a myth. i overheard him talking about it before he passed. he was obsessed with it, claimed he was close to finding it.” hoseok’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “you’re not serious, are you? that’s just another tall tale.”

yoongi’s expression was resolute. “no, i’m serious. there’s something to it. i’m going to be the one to find it.” hoseok’s skepticism remained evident, but curiosity was clearly piqued. “and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

a smirk played on yoongi’s lips as he took a final puff from his joint, the smoke drifting lazily into the twilight. “the way to a father’s heart,” he said, his tone almost conspiratorial, “is through his daughter.” as the sun dipped below the horizon, the night deepened around them, casting the docks in shadows. the promise of adventure and discovery hung in the air, mingling with the scent of the sea and the lingering smoke. yoongi’s resolve was palpable, his plans set into motion by a mix of ambition and strategic maneuvering. the city of gold was no longer a distant dream, but a tangible goal.

you lay on the couch in your father’s study, the room dimly lit by the desk lamp that cast a soft, golden glow across the walls. the study, once a place of bustling activity and intense focus, now felt oddly still and desolate. the silence seemed to amplify your thoughts, turning them into an echoing din that made it impossible for you to drift into sleep.

staring up at the ceiling, you found yourself lost in the labyrinth of your mind, the weight of your father’s death and the revelation of his secret quest pressing heavily on your shoulders. the map of el dorado, now carefully hidden away, was a constant reminder of the journey that lay ahead—a journey you felt compelled to undertake in his memory.

just as the darkness of the room began to weigh on your eyelids, a sudden crash shattered the stillness. your heart leapt into your throat, and adrenaline surged through you, jolting you into action. you threw off the blanket and forced yourself out of the couch, your footsteps quick and quiet as you approached the source of the noise. the study door creaked as you pushed it open, and you peered into the hallway. the light from the study illuminated only part of the corridor, leaving the rest shrouded in shadow. the crash had come from further down the hall, and you moved cautiously, every sound magnified in your heightened state of alert.

as you rounded the corner, you saw a figure bending over a cluttered pile of papers. without a second thought, you sprang forward and tackled the intruder to the ground, your instincts driving you to protect your father's possessions. the person let out a startled yelp, and in a swift, unexpected move, they flipped you onto your back.

you found yourself staring up at a familiar face, eyes wide with equal parts surprise and disbelief. it was yoongi, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. he was sprawled on top of you, his body tense, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“this is the second time you're breaking in,” you murmured, struggling to regain your footing as you pushed against his chest. he blinked, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find an explanation that would make sense. he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the scattered papers on the floor. “i’m looking for clues,” he finally admitted, his voice a blend of awkwardness and sincerity. “about the city of gold.”

you wriggled out from beneath him, sitting up as you processed his words. “the city of gold?” you echoed, the phrase taking on new significance. “you mean el dorado?” he nodded, his expression earnest. “yes, el dorado. are you familiar with it?”

you met his gaze, your mind racing as you considered the implications. “i am. i found a map in my father’s study. i plan on finding it to honor his memory.” there was a brief pause as the weight of your statement settled between you. yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing his next words. “i wanted to find it too,” he said slowly, his voice revealing an undertone of determination. you studied him, trying to discern his true motives. there was a hunger in his eyes, a drive that went beyond mere curiosity. yet, you were willing to overlook his hidden agenda if it meant achieving your own goal.

taking a deep breath, you considered what your father would have wanted. the thought of working with yoongi, despite the tension and underlying motives, seemed like a practical step forward. he had valuable knowledge and skills that could aid in the search, and his involvement could provide insights that you might otherwise miss. “i think,” you said finally, your voice steady, “that we should find it together.”

he looked taken aback by your suggestion, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. “are you serious?” you nodded firmly, your gaze unwavering. “yes, i am. if we work together, we might stand a better chance of finding it.”

he studied you for a moment longer, his expression a mix of skepticism and intrigue. slowly, a small, hesitant smile began to form on his lips. “alright,” he said, his tone softening. “let’s find it together.” the agreement, though tentative, marked the beginning of an unexpected partnership. as you both stood up and began to gather the scattered papers, the realization of the task ahead settled over you. the search for el dorado would be fraught with challenges, but with yoongi’s help, you felt a renewed sense of purpose.

yoongi’s gaze swept across the study, taking in the chaos that had taken over the room. the once meticulously organized space was now a disheveled mess, with papers strewn haphazardly across the floor and a window shattered, letting in a cold draft. he arched an eyebrow as he observed the scene, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“what happened here?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. you shrugged nonchalantly, brushing a stray piece of paper from the edge of the desk. “i assumed someone broke in. the place was like this when i arrived.”

his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the room, his gaze lingering on the scattered documents. his attention shifted as you approached the desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a rolled-up piece of paper with a careful touch. the map was worn but unmistakable, its edges frayed from years of handling. as you spread the map out on the table, his eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “is that really it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

you smiled, nodding as you smoothed out the creases. “this is the map. the one my father was obsessed with. it’s supposed to lead to el dorado.” yoongi joined you at the table, leaning in to examine the map closely. his fingers traced the intricate lines and markings, his expression one of awe and admiration. “south america,” he murmured, glancing up at you with a look of impressed disbelief.

your satisfaction was evident as you watched him study the map. however, your attention was soon drawn to a piece of paper lying beneath it, partially obscured by the map’s bulk. the paper was covered in scribbles and notes, and yoongi’s eyes fell on it, scrutinizing the words written in a frantic scrawl. “tocord ele boosin,” he read aloud, his brows furrowing in confusion as he deciphered the jumbled letters.

you scanned the same paper, noting the erratic handwriting and the repeated name. “it seems like a display of a meltdown,” you said, your tone nonchalant. “my father must have been trying to piece something together, but it looks like he lost control.” yoongi shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the paper. “no, this address looks familiar. i’ve seen it before.”

you turned to him, intrigued by his sudden revelation. “really? where?” his gaze sharpened as he tried to recall the information. his eyes widened as he connected the dots, the seemingly random scramble of words taking shape in his mind.

“doctor lee soobin,” he said aloud, the name forming clearly on his lips. a jolt of recognition struck you, and your eyes widened in surprise. “how do you know that name?”

he shook his head, his expression a mix of skepticism and irritation. “doctor lee soobin is infamous in the south. he’s considered a madman by many, but he calls himself a scientist. his research is unconventional, and he’s been the subject of numerous rumors and gossip.” you considered his words, the implications settling heavily in your mind. “so you’re saying my father was involved with this doctor soobin?”

yoongi nodded, his gaze serious. “it’s possible. if this address is linked to him, then it could be a significant clue. he might know something about el dorado or at least be connected to the search in some way.” with the map and the mysterious paper in hand, you and yoongi began to organize the information, your minds focused on the path ahead. the study, once a place of solitude and grief, had transformed into a hub of discovery and anticipation.

as yoongi began to gather his things, preparing to leave the study, you hesitated. the urgency of the moment had given way to a more practical concern. you cleared your throat, trying to mask the unease you felt. “wait.” he paused, looking back at you with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “what’s up?”

“it’s late,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual. “it’s not safe for you to walk back to the south at this hour. you should stay the night.” his eyebrows lifted in surprise, his expression shifting from confusion to something akin to amusement. “are you serious? you’re offering me a place to stay?”

you nodded, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “yes. it would be safer. i don’t want you risking your safety just to chase after a lead.” his gaze softened, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets with a thoughtful smile. “seems like you just want an excuse to sleep with me,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you scoffed, a reflexive smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “as if,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. but as you caught sight of his playful grin, you hesitated. “or maybe you’re just looking for a chance to get out of walking back.” he chuckled, the sound a warm contrast to the chill in the air. “well, when you put it that way, who am I to argue?”

he seemed genuinely appreciative, and you could tell he was touched by the gesture. you took a deep breath, holding his gaze. “you can either thank me or leave. your choice.” yoongi’s grin widened, and he gave you a nod of gratitude. “thank you. i’ll stay the night.”

as you prepared the guest room for him, your thoughts were occupied by the unexpected turn of events. the night, once marked by sadness and solitude, now held the promise of collaboration and discovery. you couldn’t deny the strange comfort in having yoongi nearby, and the prospect of working together on this quest gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t anticipated.

the first rays of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and turned to see yoongi still sprawled across the guest room bed, his breathing slow and even. you scoffed quietly, a mix of amusement and exasperation tugging at your lips. as much as he claimed he didn’t need it, it seemed he did appreciate the comfort of a bed after all.

slipping out of bed, you padded softly down the hall to the kitchen. the house was still, the quiet punctuated only by the soft sounds of your movements. you set to work, the familiar ritual of brewing coffee providing a comforting rhythm. the rich aroma filled the air as you prepared two cups, your hands moving deftly as you thought about the day ahead.

you were just reaching for the ice cream when you felt a presence behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling before you heard the quiet, raspy voice. “do you really plan on having ice cream for breakfast?” yoongi’s voice held a note of bemusement, startling you slightly.

you turned, a small smile playing on your lips as you saw him leaning against the doorway, hair tousled and eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “it’s not ice cream for breakfast,” you corrected, holding up the carton. “it’s called an affogato.” he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a skeptical smile. “i’ve never heard of it.”

“then you’re in for a treat,” you replied, turning back to the counter. you scooped chocolate ice cream into two glasses and poured the hot espresso over them, watching as the ice cream began to melt and swirl with the coffee. he watched you, curiosity piqued as you handed him one of the glasses. he took it hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment before he lifted it to his lips. his eyes widened slightly as he took a sip, the unexpected blend of hot and cold, bitter and sweet, surprising him.

“do they really not sell these in the south?” you asked, taking a sip of your own affogato and savoring the way the flavors danced on your tongue. yoongi shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no, the best we get is a black coffee. this is different. good different.”

“i’m glad you like it,” you said, warmth spreading through you at his approval. you both sipped in silence for a few moments, the quiet companionship settling comfortably between you. once you had finished, you set the glasses aside and began discussing the day’s plans. the journey south loomed ahead, the thought of it filling you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

“we need to figure out the best way to get there,” you said, pulling out the paper with the address. “do you know the area well?” his eyes flicked to the paper, and he nodded, a confident gleam in his gaze. “i know it by heart. just follow my lead.”

you handed him the paper, trusting his assurance, and began gathering your things. as you moved around the kitchen, preparing for the journey ahead, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. yoongi’s presence, once so enigmatic and distant, now felt like a steady anchor. with your bags packed and the house secured, you both stepped out into the crisp morning air. the world outside was waking up, the city stretching and yawning as it greeted the new day. yoongi glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he motioned for you to follow him.

the morning air was cool and crisp as you walked side by side with yoongi, the city slowly waking up around you. the streets were beginning to fill with people, the sounds of daily life rising to a gentle hum. you followed him to the train station, the two of you moving in comfortable silence. when you arrived, he fumbled with his pockets, searching for his wallet.

“damn it,” he muttered, pulling out his wallet only to find it empty. he looked at you with a sheepish grin, “looks like i’m broke.” you couldn’t help but smile at his predicament. “don’t worry about it. i’ll cover the fare,” you assured him, stepping up to the ticket counter and purchasing the tickets.

the train ride south was a journey into another world. as the landscape outside the window changed, you were struck by the stark difference between the two sides. the bustling, affluent north gave way to a more rugged, hardscrabble environment. the buildings were older, many in disrepair, and the people looked worn and weary. it was a side of the world you rarely saw, and it filled you with a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

yoongi broke the silence, his voice low and serious. “you should really talk to the police while you’re here, about your father’s office.”

you scoffed, not bothering to hide your disdain. “i’m well aware someone broke in.” he looked at you, a frown creasing his brow. “you should find out who the asshole is.”

“i’ll think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive. you could feel his eyes on you, trying to understand your reluctance. he couldn’t quite grasp why you wouldn’t use your influence to get the police to do your bidding, but he didn’t press further.

as the train approached the station, you felt a sense of apprehension settle over you. exiting the train, you stepped into the southern town, the stark reality of it hitting you hard. the streets were rough, lined with potholes and crumbling sidewalks. the people moved with a wary kind of urgency, eyes always on the lookout.

passing by the police station sent chills down your spine. the building was imposing, a reminder of authority and power, but also of the corruption and fear that often came with it. you met yoongi’s gaze, seeking reassurance. “do you know where to find the doctor’s house?” he nodded, his expression serious. “yeah, follow me. watch your step.”

you took in the south, grimacing at just how rough people seemed to have it. the poverty and struggle were palpable, a sharp contrast to the world you knew. the journey to the doctor’s house was a winding path through narrow, crowded streets. the further you went, the more apparent it became just how different life was here. when you finally reached the doctor’s house, you were taken aback. the building was old and beat-up, its once-white paint now peeling and faded. the windows were cracked, and the front steps sagged with age and neglect. it was a far cry from the pristine, well-maintained homes you were used to.

“is it safe to enter?” you asked, eyeing the dilapidated house with suspicion. it looked as though it had been abandoned for years, the once-white paint peeling and the windows dusty and cracked. yoongi chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “when we were kids, we used to dare each other to knock on this door. no one ever had the guts to actually do it.” he saw the grimace on your face, the look of horror that flickered across your features, and laughed. “don’t worry. it’s not as bad as it looks.”

you hesitated, watching as he approached the door and knocked. the door swung open with a creak, revealing the shadowy interior. “see? open already,” he said, glancing back at you with a reassuring smile. you trailed behind him, the wooden floorboards creaking under your feet as you called out, “doctor lee?” your voice echoed in the empty space, but there was no answer. the house was a mess, furniture overturned and papers strewn everywhere. it was clear someone had broken in.

“this is a bad idea,” you started to say, turning to him. but before you could finish, a man tumbled out of a closet, wild-eyed and desperate. he tackled yoongi to the ground, hands tightening around his throat with a feral intensity.

you locked eyes with yoongi, his expression shifting from surprise to helplessness under the man’s strangling grip. your heart raced, and you frantically looked around for something to help. spotting a crowbar on the floor, you grabbed it and swung at the man’s head. the blow wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to loosen his grip.

yoongi pulled himself free and pinned the man down as he thrashed. you approached cautiously, meeting the man’s fearful gaze as you crouched beside him. “i’m (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your voice steady as you showed him the letter you had found in your father’s study. the man stopped thrashing, his eyes widening. “are you—his daughter?”

you nodded, and yoongi loosened his grip as the man calmed down. “my father recently passed away,” you said, pausing to steady your voice. “i’m here on his behalf, for the city of gold.”

the man sighed, gesturing to the trashed room. “as you can see, i’ve had a few uninvited visitors.” you nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. “my father’s study was broken into as well.”

he gestured for you both to take a seat, offering you cups of water. “were you friends with my father?” you asked, curiosity tinged with sadness. he scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. “we were, until money got the better of one of us.” he paused, noticing your discomfort. “though i regret not attending his funeral.”

yoongi cut through the tension. “so, where do we go from here?” the doctor analyzed the letter, his eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. “you have the map, so you’re more than close to the gold. all you need now is the gnomon.”

you frowned, puzzled. “what are you talking about?” he leaned forward, his expression serious. “the map is nothing but a guide to the temalacatl. the gnomon, if found, comes with a translation. once placed on the temalacatl, if the timing is right and the moon hits it, the final clue to el dorado is revealed.”

you and yoongi exchanged stunned glances. “how do we get the gnomon?” he asked. the doctor leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “in the south’s museum. the gnomon is one of the artifacts. no one has suspected it to be a clue, but rather a display of el dorado’s existence.”

you turned to yoongi, your mind racing. “how do we get it?” he shrugged, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “you have money, just buy your way in.”

you sneered at his teasing, but before you could retort, the doctor cut in. “no amount of money could match its value. your best bet is to break in,” he paused to adjust his glasses. “i have a friend who monitors the cameras, someone who owes me a favor. he’ll turn a blind eye.”

you smiled, feeling a step closer to your goal. “thank you,” you said, gratitude coloring your voice. “be careful,” the doctor warned, his eyes serious. “this journey is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

with renewed determination, you and yoongi left the doctor’s house, your minds set on the path ahead. the stakes were higher than ever, but you felt a sense of purpose guiding you. the city of gold was within reach. you trailed after yoongi, watching him closely as he navigated the streets with ease. he suddenly changed direction, and you couldn’t help but ask, “aren’t we going to the museum?”

he shook his head, his expression serious. “we need to go to the police now.” you rolled your eyes. “it’s no big deal, yoongi.”

he stopped, turning to face you with a look of determination. “after seeing the pattern in the doctor’s house, it’s too dangerous not to. we can’t take any chances.” you sighed, accepting defeat. there was no arguing with him when he had that look in his eyes. “fine.”

you followed him back to the border, the path to the police station feeling longer and more daunting with each step. as you approached the building, a sense of dread settled in your stomach. yoongi noticed your hesitation and opened the door for you, his presence a small comfort. the room fell silent as you entered, all eyes turning towards you. the heavy atmosphere was suffocating. then, you locked eyes with him. his gaze was icy as it settled on yoongi, a cold glare that sent shivers down your spine.

“what are you doing here?” jungkook’s voice was laced with hostility. yoongi turned to you, confusion evident on his face. you took a deep breath, deciding to break the tension. “this is yoongi, my friend. and yoongi, this is jungkook, my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s displeasure was palpable, but so was yoongi’s. the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. you cleared your throat, trying to diffuse the situation. “we’re here to report a break-in.” jungkook looked shocked, his cold demeanor softening slightly. “why didn’t you come in sooner?”

you shrugged, attempting to downplay the situation. “i thought it was no big deal.” he sighed, frustration mingling with concern. “it’s always because of the gold, isn’t it?” he shook his head before saying, “i’ll report it further.”

you turned to leave, but jungkook grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. yoongi’s eyes narrowed, his stance becoming protective. “be careful,” he said, his voice softer, a hint of the old familiarity breaking through his stern facade. you met his gaze, your heart aching with the weight of the past. “you too, jungkook.”

you and yoongi left the police station, the tension from the encounter lingering in the air. he remained silent, his mind clearly preoccupied. you walked side by side, the city’s noise fading into the background as your thoughts consumed you. “ex-boyfriend?” he finally asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, though the encounter had left you rattled. “dad forced us to break up, long time ago,” you paused to smile, but there wasn't a trace of humor on your face. “didn't approve of him being from the south.”

your words seemed to be a reminder to him, one that made his gaze harden and his throat close up. one that told him—no matter how close you were, no matter how nice you were to him, you would still be different at the end of the day. you would be the one with money and food on a silver platter, while he would be absolutely no one.

the two of you headed back in the right direction, the urgency of your mission weighing heavily on your minds. you turned to him, breaking the silence. “it’s too early to break in,” you said thoughtfully. he nodded, considering your words. “do you have any suggestions?”

you paused, your eyes drifting over his attire. his clothes made it painfully obvious that he was from the south. a smile tugged at your lips as an idea formed. “there’s no way you’re gonna blend in dressed like that.” his eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “what are you on about?”

you took his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “point me to the nicest clothing store you know. i’ll be your sugar mommy for the week.” he looked defeated, a sigh escaping his lips. “i can’t believe you’re gonna customize me.”

feigning offense, you raised an eyebrow. “are you so against being my barbie doll?” he feigned sympathy, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i assure you, i’ll be the perfect lab rat.”

you pulled him into the most expensive store you could find, which was a challenge in itself given the area. the saleswoman looked stunned as you entered, her professional demeanor momentarily slipping. “what can i help you with?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. beaming, you placed your credit card on the table. “bring out your most expensive attire for my good friend here.” she looked delighted, probably not used to customers willing to spend so much money. “of course,” she agreed eagerly, glancing at yoongi with a gleam in her eye.

you sat on the plush couch in the waiting area, enjoying the luxurious surroundings. yoongi’s look of betrayal made you smile. the first outfit he tried on was a sleek black suit with a narrow tie. you shook your head, unable to suppress a chuckle. “too funeral director.” next, he stepped out in a flamboyant red ensemble, complete with a matching hat. you winced, struggling to keep a straight face. “too circus ringmaster.”

the third outfit was a gaudy, bedazzled jacket and pants combo that sparkled under the store’s lights. you laughed outright, shaking your head. “elvis, can i get an autograph?” his expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement, but he finally emerged in a classic, well-tailored navy suit that fit him perfectly. you stepped forward, adjusting his tie with a satisfied smile. “now, this is perfect.”

he smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “glad to hear it, because it’s my turn to customize you.”

your turn to look mortified, you opened your mouth to protest but he was already leading you to the women’s section. the first outfit he chose was a frilly pink dress that made you look like a cake topper. he grinned as he saw your expression. “my little pony, where've you been?” you nodded, rolling your eyes. the next outfit was a tight leather ensemble that made you feel like a character in a spy movie. “too dominatrix,” he remarked with a smirk.

the third was an extravagant, sequined gown that you could barely move in. “too disco ball,” he said, laughing at your discomfort. finally, you stepped out in a simple, elegant dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. his eyes widened, and he stared at you, stunned. “you look stunning.”

blushing under his intense gaze, you mumbled a thank you. you paid for the outfits, the saleswoman’s eyes gleaming with delight at the hefty commission she’d just earned. as you left the store, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound confidence in your new attire, matching yoongi’s sophisticated look.

he looked around, assessing the bustling streets, then turned to you. “it’s still too early for anything,” he said thoughtfully. you glanced at him, reminding him with a gentle smile, “you didn’t have anything for breakfast. how about lunch?”

he hesitated, a tinge of guilt in his eyes. “i feel bad for leeching off you.” taking his hand, you squeezed it reassuringly. “we’re working together, aren’t we?” his heart fluttered at your touch and words, an unwelcome reminder of the emotions he tried to suppress. he hated how he felt, knowing there was no logical reason for his heart to react this way. you were out of his league, a fact he couldn’t forget.

you both opted for a local restaurant, a cozy place with a warm ambiance. as you sat down and began perusing the menu, you couldn’t help but comment, “there really aren’t any affogatos here.” he chuckled, the memory of the sweet taste lingering. “welcome to my world,” he said with a grin. after a pause, he asked, “you promise to make me another one?”

“of course,” you replied, your eyes twinkling. “i’ll make as many as you want.” you both ordered your meals and settled into a discussion about the gnomon. the restaurant’s hum provided a comforting backdrop as you outlined your plans.

“it’s crucial to get the translation that comes with the gnomon,” you emphasized.

he nodded, confidence in his gaze. “that won’t be an issue.” he paused, then asked, “how will we get to south america?”

you smiled, enjoying the chance to surprise him. “i’ll take one of the company’s planes and call the pilot.” his reaction was priceless, a mixture of awe and disbelief. you leaned in, your smile widening. “welcome to my world.”

as the food arrived, you took a moment to appreciate the simplicity and warmth of the place. the dishes were hearty and comforting, a stark contrast to the opulence you were used to. the conversation flowed naturally, a balance of light-hearted banter and serious planning. his eyes sparkled as he spoke about the next steps. “we need to figure out the museum’s security layout. breaking in won’t be easy, but if we time it right, we’ll have a small window.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “we’ll need to be in and out quickly. any delay could be disastrous.” the weight of the task ahead pressed down on both of you, but there was a strange comfort in sharing this burden. the restaurant’s charm and the simplicity of the meal offered a brief respite, a moment of normalcy in the midst of chaos.

after lunch, you both felt more grounded, ready to tackle the challenges ahead. as you exited the restaurant, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm glow over the city. the streets seemed less daunting now, each step bringing you closer to the heart of your mission. he glanced at you, a determined look in his eyes. “ready?” you nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “ready.”

the two of you walked in silence, the setting sun casting long shadows across the city. the south seemed to blend seamlessly with the encroaching darkness, the streets and alleys taking on an almost sinister feel as twilight gave way to night. as you approached the museum, yoongi unexpectedly took your hand into his. startled, you turned to him.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a low whisper. he squeezed your hand gently. “act natural,” he replied, his eyes scanning the area. it was only then that you noticed how many people were around, their movements and chatter blending into the evening’s backdrop.

taking his lead, you relaxed, entwining your fingers with his as you began to circle the park in front of the museum. its grand structure, despite its worn exterior, loomed ahead of you. you locked eyes with the security camera in front and quickly looked away, trying not to appear suspicious.

as the crowd began to thin, you tugged yoongi’s hand and led him toward the museum’s entrance. the lady at the front desk looked up, informing you with a tired smile that they were about to close. you laughed lightly, flashing her a charming smile. “we’ll be out soon,” you promised, pausing to straighten yoongi’s hair. “i just have to show my boyfriend the dead sea scrolls.”

she smiled and nodded, her suspicions seemingly allayed. yoongi leaned in and whispered, “what are you doing?”

“act natural,” you murmured back, trying to suppress your own nerves. suddenly, you heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. before you knew it, he had pushed you into the nearby janitor’s closet. the space was small and cramped, your bodies pressed close together. you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as yoongi placed a finger on his lips, signaling for silence. his own breath was unsteady, and his face was inches away from yours.

he leaned in closer, his breath warm on your cheek. “are you okay?” he whispered. uou nodded, your eyes meeting his. he smiled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. the closeness was electrifying, your shared anxiety heightening every sensation.

when the lights finally dimmed and the building fell silent, you carefully opened the door and slipped out. the museum, now cloaked in darkness, seemed even more imposing. you began your search, moving stealthily through the exhibits. the shadows played tricks on your eyes, and the vast emptiness amplified every creak and whisper. as you moved through the museum, a sinking feeling of defeat began to settle in. you found nothing of use. but then, yoongi tugged your sleeve and pointed upward. you followed his gaze and saw a narrow staircase hidden in the shadows.

you ascended the stairs as quietly as possible, each step creaking beneath your weight. your hand found its way back into yoongi’s, a silent reassurance. as you reached the top, you both froze. there it was—the enclosure, and the sign reading “kalingo's gnomon.”

a smile of disbelief spread across your face. you couldn’t believe it. carefully, you began working on the enclosure. yoongi kept watch as you bypassed the security measures with trembling fingers. the thrill of the illicit act coursed through your veins, making each second feel like an eternity. finally, you managed to open the enclosure. the gnomon was a beautiful artifact, ancient and intricately designed. hidden inside it was the translation you needed. you held it up triumphantly, your eyes meeting yoongi’s in a shared moment of victory.

but the triumph was short-lived. the distant sound of police sirens shattered the moment as panic surged through you. “that asshole set us up,” he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief.

there was no time to waste. grabbing his hand, you pulled him away, clutching the gnomon tightly. you ran through the darkened halls, your footsteps echoing in the empty museum. the sirens grew louder, closer. desperation fueled your movements. you found an emergency exit and burst through it, emerging into a back alley. the cold night air hit you, but you didn’t stop. you ran, yoongi right beside you, the gnomon weighing heavily in your hands.

the sound of police sirens echoed through the streets, the lights flashing ominously in the distance. you navigated through the narrow alleys, your breath coming in ragged gasps. every corner turned, every shadow passed, you felt the urgency of your escape. yoongi pulled you toward a hidden passage, a narrow corridor between buildings. you squeezed through, the gnomon clutched tightly to your chest. the passage opened up to another alley, and you kept running, the adrenaline driving you forward.

finally, you reached a more secluded area, the sirens now distant. you stopped to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. yoongi was beside you, his own breath coming in heavy gasps. “we made it,” he panted, a triumphant yet exhausted smile on his face. you nodded, clutching the gnomon. “we made it.”

the museum was abuzz with activity, police officers scattered around like ants after a disturbed nest. flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating exhibits and casting long shadows on the walls. the chief stood in the center of the chaos, his voice a steady bark of commands.

“secure the perimeter!” he ordered, his eyes sharp and uncompromising. “i want every exit covered. jungkook, get up here and find out who’s behind this.” jungkook, who had been examining the front desk, straightened up at the sound of his name. he moved quickly, his steps purposeful as he approached the chief.

“the security cameras were disabled,” he reported, frustration edging his voice. he glanced at the monitors, now lifeless and dark. the chief's frown deepened, but he gave a curt nod. “find out how they did it and who was involved,” the chief instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

jungkook’s jaw tightened as he turned on his heel, a sense of urgency propelling him forward. he moved through the museum with swift efficiency, his eyes scanning for any clue, any sign of who might have been responsible. when he reached the staircase, he took them two at a time, his breath coming in controlled bursts.

reaching the top, he found the enclosure that housed kalingo's gnomon. or, rather, what had housed it. the case was empty, the artifact gone. jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his fists clenching at his sides. the dim light of his flashlight revealed the remnants of the security system, bypassed with a level of skill that spoke of careful planning. his frustration bubbled over, and he slammed his fist into the nearby table, the sound echoing through the empty halls. he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. his eyes fell on the empty case once more, and a bitter scoff escaped his lips. he knew who had done this, knew it with a certainty that gnawed at his insides.

“it was you, wasn’t it?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of anger and disbelief. the emptiness of the museum echoed back at him, the silence heavy with the weight of his realization. he stood there for a moment longer, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of how you had outmaneuvered them all. the artifact was gone, and with it, a part of the plan he had thought was secure.

you turned to yoongi, your voice firm yet laden with the urgency of the situation. “we need to go back to the north,” you told him. he arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” he asked.

“it’s too risky to stay in daegu,” you replied. “we need to leave for south america as soon as possible.” he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. the two of you made your way to the train station, blending into the evening crowd. as you waited for the next train, you pulled out your phone and called the pilot, an old friend of your father’s. you spoke in hushed tones, the urgency clear in your voice.

“can you get the plane ready for tonight?” you asked, the anxiety creeping into your tone. there was a brief pause before the pilot responded. “everything will be ready in an hour,” he assured you. you thanked him and ended the call, turning to yoongi with a relieved expression, repeating what the pilot had told you.

the train arrived, and you both boarded, finding seats near the back. exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, the adrenaline from the heist beginning to fade. you settled into your seat, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling you into a state of relaxation. before long, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, your head coming to rest on yoongi’s shoulder.

he stiffened at the unexpected contact, his heart fluttering as he glanced down at your sleeping form. the sight of you sleeping so soundly against him was disarming. he felt a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite name. he questioned his motives—was he really in this just for the money? he needed to be selfish, to think of his own survival, but the sight of you, so vulnerable and trusting, made him feel something far less selfish.

as the train neared its destination, he gently nudged you awake. “we’re here,” he murmured softly. you blinked, disoriented for a moment before reality set in. together, you made your way to the penthouse, your exhaustion evident in every step. he noticed and asked, “are you gonna be okay?”

“i’ll be fine,” you assured him, though your voice betrayed your weariness. as you walked, yoongi’s leg began to nag him, the feeling practically unbearable. he brushed it off, telling you it was nothing. you arrived at the penthouse and discovered that your father’s study remained untouched, the mess from the break-in still present. the police hadn’t been there.

“it’ll be okay,” yoongi said, his voice a soothing balm. you nodded and began packing the necessities. as you did, you took a moment to examine the gnomon. the translation depicted various symbols in an ancient, foreign language, their meanings written beside them: moon, wisdom, light, vision, and finally, gold. the gnomon itself was beautiful, meticulously crafted.

yoongi’s voice broke your train of thought. “pretty, isn’t it?” you met his gaze, his eyes soft and gentle. you smiled, your heart warming. “beautiful,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. with a final look around, you locked up and stuffed the gnomon into your backpack. together, you and yoongi made your way to the runway, the weight of the artifact and the journey ahead pressing on your shoulders. the night air was cool, filled with the promise of escape and the unknown.

as you and yoongi reached the runway, the scene before you was a mixture of mechanical roar and illuminated metal. the plane, sleek and powerful, rumbled softly as if it was eager for the night sky. yoongi's eyes widened in awe, his fascination with the aircraft evident in the way he stared, his expression a blend of wonder and disbelief. the pilot, a tall man with a warm smile and a firm handshake, stepped out from the cockpit. he greeted you with a friendly nod. “good to see you,” you said. “i’m sorry for the late call.”

“it’s no big deal,” the pilot replied, waving off your apology. he then turned his gaze to yoongi, his curiosity piqued. “and who’s this?”

he stepped forward, offering a polite bow. “i’m min yoongi, a friend of hers.” the word “friend” felt strangely hollow to him. he wasn’t merely content with being your friend. he wanted to be more, to be someone who mattered deeply in your life. the pilot didn’t seem to notice the subtext, merely acknowledging yoongi with a nod.

“so, where are you headed?” the pilot asked, checking his watch. you sighed, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. “we’re going to colombia.”

the pilot’s eyes widened slightly. “long flight,” he remarked. “but we’ll get you there. please, board when you’re ready.”

as you and yoongi began to make your way to the aircraft, a sudden, unmistakable wail of sirens pierced the night air. panic surged through you, your instincts kicking in. “hurry,” you urged him, your voice sharp with urgency. yoongi, wincing as his injured leg flared up, struggled to keep pace. you reached out, steadying him as you both hurried up the stairs to the plane. his face was a mask of determination and anxiety, the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten in the rush to escape.

as the sirens grew louder, the police cars drew nearer, their flashing lights painting the runway in ominous hues of red and blue. the pilot, already in the cockpit, began the pre-flight checklist with practiced efficiency. the engines roared to life, the sound growing louder as the plane began its ascent. with a final, frantic glance over your shoulder, you and yoongi took your seats. the plane began to move, its wheels vibrating with the power needed to lift off the ground. the rumble beneath you grew more intense as the aircraft picked up speed, racing against the encroaching sirens.

outside, the police cars skidded to a halt, their occupants scrambling to make sense of the situation. the sight of the plane accelerating down the runway, its engines a symphony of raw power, left them momentarily stunned. the aircraft surged forward, its nose lifting, and with a shuddering roar, it took off into the night sky. the plane ascended rapidly, the lights of the runway and the police cars below shrinking into the distance. the sirens grew faint, the chase turning into a distant echo. Inside the plane, you and yoongi exchanged glances, a mix of relief and exhilaration in your eyes. the weight of the gnomon in your backpack felt lighter somehow, the imminent danger replaced by the thrill of the escape.

as the plane settled into its cruising altitude, the rhythmic hum of the engines provided a steady backdrop to the tense quiet between you and yoongi. the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sharp wince escaping him each time he moved. you turned to him, concern etched into your expression. “what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

he waved it off with a weak smile. “it’s nothing,” he replied, though his strained tone betrayed the lie. skeptical, you pressed further, and to his surprise, you pushed him back down onto his seat with gentle insistence. “you’re not fooling me,” you said firmly. as you knelt by his side, you began to roll up the leg of his pants. the fabric pulled away to reveal deep, bleeding scratches on his calf. your breath hitched at the sight of the raw, inflamed wounds.

looking up at him, you asked softly, “why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he offered a sheepish smile. “i didn’t want to be a bother,” he said, his eyes softening with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.

you shook your head, a mix of frustration and tenderness in your gaze. “you’ve never been a bother,” you assured him. from your backpack, you retrieved a small medicinal kit and set to work. xarefully, you cleaned the wounds, your hands moving with practiced ease. the antiseptic stung, but yoongi gritted his teeth, his eyes locked on you as you worked.

the moment your eyes met his, a fleeting silence filled the space between you. the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you could see the same flutter of emotions reflected in his eyes. the simple act of caring for him felt charged with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.

when you pressed a fresh bandage onto the wound, your fingertips brushed his skin lightly. you hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the bandaged scratch. the touch was soft, and the warmth of your lips left he momentarily stunned. he stared at you, his heart racing, as you pulled away with a smile. “i’m gonna go change,” you said softly, standing up and heading toward the bathroom.

yoongi watched you leave, a wave of conflicting thoughts crashing over him. a part of him urged him to follow you, driven by a desire he couldn’t quite understand. another part cautioned him against it, whispering that he had no right to expect anything more. despite the hesitation, his longing prevailed, and he found himself following you down the narrow aisle.

to his surprise, the bathroom door was ajar. peering inside, he caught sight of you as you began to undress. his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he saw you peel the dress over your head, revealing your bra and panties. the sight of you, so vulnerable and unguarded, made his pulse quicken. for a brief, uncomfortable moment, he felt like an intruder. the guilt was almost overwhelming. but as soon as you turned around, meeting his gaze with a knowing smirk, all sense of propriety melted away.

“i knew you’d follow me,” you whispered, your voice teasing and confident. his gaze softened as he took in the sight of you. “smart girl,” he murmured under his breath, his voice thick with emotion.

without another word, he crossed the threshold into the bathroom, his intentions clear. his hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you with a desperate urgency. his lips were warm and insistent against yours, the kiss deepening with every passing second. he lifted you gently onto the sink, your body pressed against the cool surface. his arms wrapped around you, holding you securely as the kiss continued. the world outside the small bathroom faded away, leaving only the intimate connection between you two. the air was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the steady thrum of the plane’s engines, a rhythmic accompaniment to the closeness you shared.

his hands began to roam, tracing the curves of your body as he kissed your neck. you moaned softly, arching into his touch, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. he fumbled with the clasp of your bra, finally freeing your tits to his eager palms. they were soft and warm, and he took a moment to appreciate their perfection before taking one into his mouth, suckling gently. you threw your head back, the pleasure of his touch sending shockwaves through your body. your hands found their way to his belt, deftly unbuckling it as his own hands worked on your panties. the fabric slid down your legs, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

his cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his pants. with trembling hands, you reached down and freed him, stroking the length of him as he moaned against your skin. he was velvet over steel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the power he held in your grasp. the need to have him inside you grew stronger with every stroke, your pussy wet and ready. you spread your legs wider, inviting him closer. he stepped between them, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself.

his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your face to look at him. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and gruff. you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “yes, yoongi. i want you, all of you,” you whispered. with that, he plunged into you, filling you up in one quick motion. the suddenness of it made you gasp, your eyes widening with pleasure and a hint of pain. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move, his hips rocking into yours in a rhythm that was as old as time itself.

each thrust was punctuated by a string of dirty words that only served to heighten the intensity. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “you feel so good, baby. so fucking good.” you responded with your own vulgarities, urging him to go harder, faster. the pleasure built in you like a storm, threatening to break at any moment. your breath grew ragged as you clung to him, the muscles in your thighs tightening around his waist.

the bathroom was a cocoon of passion, the only reality that of your bodies joined together. outside, the plane continued its journey, but in that moment, you were both in a world of your own making. he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more forceful as he approached climax. you could feel him swelling inside you, and the thought of him cumming, filling you up, was almost too much to bear.

as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body spasmed around him, tightening like a vice. he growled low in his throat, his own orgasm crashing over him. he pumped into you once, twice, before stilling, his cock pulsing with release. your eyes met in the mirror, both of you panting and flushed. the aftermath of your encounter was a heady mix of satisfaction and awe.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him deep inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the feeling of his warmth. finally, he pulled out, a trail of cum connecting you both. you watched in the mirror as he tucked himself away, your eyes never leaving his. without a word, he helped you down from the sink, and you stepped into the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor. the moment was raw and unfiltered, and you both knew that what had just happened was more than just a casual hookup. it was a declaration of something deeper, something that could not be contained by the confines of any social class.

as yoongi pulled his shirt and shorts back on, you noticed the shift in his demeanor, a soft, contemplative smile on his face. he crouched down before you, his gaze steady and reassuring. his eyes searched yours with a warmth that made your heart skip. “this was meant to happen,” he said gently, the sincerity in his voice undeniable.

you tugged on a shirt and shorts, trying to compose yourself, but his words lingered in your mind. “what do you mean?” you asked, your voice slightly uncertain as you tried to make sense of the sudden shift in his tone.

with a tender smile, he reached out, taking your wrist gently and pulling you closer to him. you were startled by the sudden contact, but his touch was soft, almost comforting. “you feel it too, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. a shiver ran down your spine, the gravity of his words sinking in. you understood perfectly what he meant, and the truth was unmistakable. You nodded slowly, your gaze never leaving his.

you then asked, “did you agree to help me because of the gold?” your tone was casual, but there was a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability that you rarely showed. he thought for a moment before responding. “yes, i did,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but it’s more complicated now.”

his eyes softened, and he took a deep breath. “if you wanted me to leave without a single piece of gold, just to keep you, i’d agree,” he said, his voice steady and resolute. the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest. the sincerity of his offer was palpable, and it touched a chord within you. without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. this time, the kiss was tender and filled with a sweetness that spoke of unspoken promises and deeper emotions.

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm, reassuring embrace. his touch was gentle yet firm, as if he was afraid to let go. “i promise,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soothing balm, “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

as he settled into a comfortable position beside you, his exhaustion finally overtaking him, you couldn't help but be captivated by the serene expression on his face. his fingers, though initially restless, gradually stilled and began to curl around the string of your shorts, his touch soft and almost tentative. it was a small, intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes about his trust and the vulnerability he felt in this moment.

you watched him with a tender smile, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn't expected to feel. the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply was soothing, and the occasional twitch of his fingers only added to the sense of closeness between you. you reached out with a gentle hand and began to stroke his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers like water.

the rhythmic motion of your hand on his head seemed to calm him even more, and you could see the tension in his shoulders gradually easing. his face, now relaxed and peaceful, was a stark contrast to the strained expression he'd worn earlier. as you continued to stroke his hair, a sense of contentment washed over you. you could feel the weight of the day’s events lifting, replaced by the simple joy of having him close.

the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features in a soft glow, casting gentle shadows that accentuated his relaxed expression. each breath he took was steady and rhythmic, and you found yourself enveloped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. there was something profoundly comforting about watching him fall asleep, the trust and connection between you palpable.

your own eyelids began to droop as the soothing motion of your hand on his hair combined with the rhythmic hum of the plane. the exhaustion of the day’s events, coupled with the calm of the cabin, lulled you into a state of tranquility. with one last, affectionate brush of your fingers through his hair, you allowed yourself to lean back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand. soon, sleep claimed you as well, your body relaxing into the cushioned seat. the warmth of his presence and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing created a cocoon of comfort around you.

the jarring sound of the cockpit door sliding open snapped you from your slumber. startled, you glanced around, your heart racing as the plane lurched violently beneath you. yoongi, still groggy, looked up with wide, alarmed eyes as the pilot’s voice cut through the chaos.

“we’re being shot at,” the pilot’s voice was strained but controlled, “we’re heading towards the sea. brace yourselves!”

the words barely had time to sink in before the plane shuddered again, the turbulence throwing you against yoongi. the once smooth hum of the engines was now a discordant roar, the plane tilting violently to one side. the cabin lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the aircraft struggled to maintain altitude.

his hand gripped yours tightly, his face pale but determined. “do you remember what i told you earlier?” he shouted over the cacophony. his voice, though steady, betrayed his underlying fear. you nodded vigorously, your own heart pounding in your chest. fear clawed at your insides, but you managed to force a shaky smile. his reassuring gaze was your anchor amidst the turmoil. without a word, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his warm lips a stark contrast to the cold sweat that coated your skin. “nothing will happen to you,” he promised, his voice low and fierce. “i promised.”

the plane shuddered again, and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, “prepare for impact!” the words barely registered before the plane began its final, harrowing descent. the cabin filled with a cacophony of alarm bells and frantic shouts. you clung to yoongi as the plane lurched and pitched, the sensation of weightlessness making your stomach churn. he pulled you close, his arms a steadfast shield against the chaos.

with a heart-stopping jolt, the plane hit the water. the impact was brutal, the fuselage groaning and buckling as it collided with the ocean’s surface. water sprayed violently through the shattered windows, the once sleek interior now a scene of disaster. yoongi’s grip tightened around you as you were both thrown against the seatbacks, the force of the crash sending waves of cold seawater surging through the cabin. the cabin lights went out, leaving you in near-total darkness save for the sporadic flashes of lightning outside. yoongi pulled you from your seat, his movements urgent but controlled. “we need to get out!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the ocean and the crackling wreckage.

you both stumbled toward the emergency exits, the plane listing heavily to one side. with adrenaline coursing through your veins, you forced open the nearest emergency exit, the rush of cold seawater flooding in as you leaped out into the chaotic surf. he followed closely behind, his strong arms encircling you as you were both engulfed by the freezing sea. the water was a violent, tumultuous mess, the waves crashing over you with relentless force. you fought to keep your head above the surface, clinging to the debris and floating wreckage that bobbed around you. yoongi’s grip never wavered, his hand firmly clasped around yours as you struggled to stay afloat amidst the disorienting swirl of water.

in the distance, you could hear distant cries and the sharp crack of gunfire, the sounds merging with the roar of the ocean and the wreckage. the fear was palpable, but yoongi’s steady presence kept you focused. you both swam with powerful, determined strokes, using any piece of floating debris as leverage to propel yourselves toward the distant shore. the journey was grueling, each stroke through the water a battle against exhaustion and the pounding waves. every moment felt like an eternity, but his reassuring presence and the glimmer of hope that came with nearing the shore kept you going. the distant lights of the coastline finally came into view, a beacon of salvation amidst the chaos.

when you finally reached the shore, your legs nearly gave out as you collapsed onto the wet sand. yoongi, equally exhausted, pulled himself beside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. his eyes were full of concern as he reached out to brush the wet hair from your forehead. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained but sincere. you nodded, the weight of the situation hitting you as you took stock of your belongings. the gnomon, the translation, and the map were still secure, clutched tightly in your backpack. you knew you had to run, that the danger wasn’t over, but for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to rest, the cool sand beneath you a small comfort after the nightmarish ordeal.

the oppressive heat of the jungle enveloped you both as you sprinted through the thick, tangled foliage, the weight of the humid air pressing down on you. the map you clutched in one hand was a precious guide through the dense undergrowth, each step a challenge as you navigated the uneven terrain. the trees loomed like sentinels, their thick branches entwining above you, casting fleeting shadows that danced in the flickering light of the dense canopy. the cries of unseen creatures echoed through the thick air, mingling with the rapid pounding of your heart.

yoongi ran beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven, the adrenaline driving him forward despite the exhaustion. his eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. the map led you through a labyrinth of green, the path seemingly endless as you pressed on, guided by the urgent need to escape and survive.

as the dense forest began to thin, you emerged into a small clearing that revealed a scene both unexpected and alarming. before you lay a group of makeshift cabins, their structures rudimentary but functional, scattered across the clearing. the people gathered there, clad in worn clothing and armed with an assortment of weapons, looked up in confusion as you and yoongi stumbled into their view.

the first shot rang out, slamming into the ground just inches from where you stood. the deafening crack shattered the moment of stunned silence, and yoongi's instincts kicked in. “we need to move!” he shouted, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards a nearby hill.

the shouts and cries in rapid spanish grew louder, and the threat of a fight was imminent. despite yoongi’s desperate pleas to keep running, you stopped abruptly. he turned to you, his eyes wide with concern. “what are you doing?” you reached into your backpack and, to his astonishment, pulled out a sleek pistol. the weight of the weapon was reassuring in your hand, the cold metal a stark contrast to the sweltering heat. as the cries grew nearer, you positioned yourself behind a nearby tree, your focus sharp as you aimed. the first shot echoed through the clearing, and the sound of a body hitting the ground followed soon after.

a tense silence fell, broken only by the distant rustling of the jungle and the pounding of your own heartbeat. the sight of the armed group retreating was a small victory, and you took it as your cue to keep moving. you turned to yoongi, who watched in disbelief as you wrestled with your backpack, pulling out a second pistol and handing it to him. “here,” you said, your voice steady despite the situation. “you’re gonna need this.”

he took the weapon with a mixture of awe and amusement, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were from the south.” you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “that’s funny,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “my boyfriend’s actually from the south.”

the comment left yoongi momentarily flustered, his cheeks flushing a shade darker as he tried to regain his composure. you watched with amusement as he stumbled over his words, clearly thrown by your unexpected jest. his flustered reaction was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere, adding a moment of lightness to the chaos. “let’s go,” you urged him, still smiling as you began to lead the way up the hill. the weight of the pistols and the urgency of the situation kept you moving, despite the lingering laughter and the adrenaline that surged through your veins.

the climb up the hill was strenuous, the incline steep and the jungle’s undergrowth relentless. every step was a struggle, but the sight of the jungle stretching out below you and the promise of safety spurred you onward. yoongi, now more focused, followed closely behind, his earlier embarrassment replaced by a determined resolve. as you reached the top of the hill, the dense forest stretched out before you, a sprawling sea of green that offered both cover and a potential escape route. the distant shouts of the armed group faded, replaced by the relentless buzz of insects and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

the jungle seemed endless, its thick, humid air wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating cloak. the undergrowth scratched at your legs, and the sweat trickling down your face made each step feel like a monumental effort. the map clutched tightly in your hand felt like it was growing heavier with each mile, and despite the fleeting moments of adrenaline, fatigue began to seep into your bones.

after what felt like an eternity of walking, you finally had to stop. you slumped down onto a large, flat rock, your breathing ragged as you tried to catch your breath. yoongi, equally exhausted, immediately knelt beside you, his eyes filled with concern. without a word, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water. the cool liquid felt like a balm to your parched throat as he pressed the bottle to your lips, tilting it gently so you could drink.

as you took the water, yoongi’s gaze was unwavering, his worry etched into the lines of his face. once you’d finished drinking, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm, reassuring hug. the embrace was warm despite the humid air, a small but meaningful comfort amidst the chaos. “don’t give up,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “remember why we’re here. we’re so close.”

his words, combined with his steady presence, gave you a renewed sense of determination. you nodded against his shoulder, drawing strength from his embrace. with a deep breath, you stood up, feeling the weight of exhaustion but also a spark of renewed resolve. he helped you up, and you both continued on, the map guiding you through the darkening forest.

the path became more challenging as night fell, but the promise of reaching your destination kept you moving. the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting an ethereal glow on the trail as you pressed on. eventually, the sound of rushing water grew louder, a welcome symphony amidst the quiet of the jungle.

you emerged into a small clearing, and the sight that greeted you took your breath away. before you stood a magnificent waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering in the moonlight. the scene was nothing short of magical. the waterfall tumbled down from a high cliff, creating a misty veil that danced in the cool night air. the pool at its base was clear and serene, reflecting the moon’s pale light.

a smile spread across yoongi’s face as he watched your reaction. “do you like it?” he asked, his voice filled with gentle amusement. you nodded, awestruck. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. “i remember my father telling stories about a waterfall just like this one. it was part of his tales about el dorado.”

yoongi’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a shared understanding passing between you. the waterfall’s beauty, combined with the shared memory of your father’s stories, made the moment deeply emotional. it was as if the waterfall itself was a bridge between your past and the present, connecting you to the stories and dreams that had driven you this far.

you both set up camp for the night near the base of the waterfall. the sound of the water was soothing, a constant, rhythmic lullaby that provided a comforting backdrop to your efforts. yoongi worked alongside you, his movements methodical and efficient as he helped you arrange the sleeping bags and set up a small, portable cooking area. the familiar routine of setting up camp offered a small measure of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

as the camp was finally set up, you both sat down on the grass, the waterfall’s mist gently cooling your skin. you looked over at him, who was gazing at the waterfall with a thoughtful expression. there was something profoundly peaceful about the scene, a serene contrast to the turmoil and danger that had marked your journey so far.

you joined yoongi in watching the waterfall, the soothing sound of the cascading water providing a sense of calm. the moonlight cast a soft glow over the scene, illuminating the mist that rose from the pool below. you felt a deep, soothing connection to the moment, a rare opportunity to reflect and find solace in the midst of the ongoing struggle.

as you sat together in the stillness of the night, you could feel the exhaustion slowly melting away, replaced by a profound sense of tranquility. the world felt smaller and more manageable, with the waterfall standing as a reminder of the beauty that still existed amidst the chaos. eventually, the fatigue of the day caught up with both of you. you lay down on your sleeping bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you settled into a comfortable position. yoongi lay down beside you, and for a while, you both simply stared at the waterfall, the sound of the water creating a rhythmic lullaby that seemed to echo the beat of your hearts.

the moon’s silvery light filtered through the canopy, casting ethereal shadows across the forest floor. you stirred awake, the intense brightness of the moon penetrating even the depth of your sleep. the waterfall’s gentle murmur was a soothing backdrop as you pushed yourself up, blinking against the stark contrast of moonlight and shadow. beside you, yoongi shifted and slowly roused from his sleep. his eyes, still heavy with fatigue, met yours with a mix of curiosity and concern. you motioned for him to follow as you began gathering your things, the urgency of the quest fueling your movements. the map, now slightly crumpled from its journey, was securely tucked into your backpack, and with a quick glance at him, you headed back towards the trail.

the jungle was even more enigmatic under the moon’s pale glow. the sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air, their calls mingling with the rustle of the leaves. your steps were careful, the ground slick from the earlier rain, but determination guided you as you followed the map’s instructions.

after what seemed like an eternity of navigating through the dense foliage, the trees finally began to thin out. the faintest hint of a clearing emerged, and you and yoongi came to a sudden halt as your eyes adjusted to the sight before you. there, partially obscured by undergrowth and moss, lay an array of stone blocks arranged in a circular formation. the structure had an ancient, solemn feel to it, with stones arranged in a pattern that suggested a deep significance.

both of you stood in awe. the arrangement resembled a grave—an ancient tomb perhaps—yet something about it seemed to pulse with an undeniable energy. you approached the structure with a cautious reverence, your eyes scanning the weathered stones for any inscriptions or clues.

as you examined the array more closely, your heart skipped a beat. there, in the center of the stone formation, was a circular depression, perfectly sized for the gnomon you had carried from the museum. the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity. this was no mere grave; it was the temalacatl, the ancient aztec stone disk that had been lost to legend. yoongi’s face lit up with a triumphant smile as he moved closer. he pressed a soft, celebratory kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. his eyes were alight with the thrill of discovery, and for a moment, the exhaustion and danger of your journey were forgotten in the joy of this breakthrough.

carefully, he retrieved the gnomon from your backpack. with a precise and practiced hand, he placed it into the center of the temalacatl. it fit perfectly, the gnomon slotting into place with a satisfying click. as the moonlight streamed through the canopy, it illuminated the gnomon and the stone disk below, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow. the symbols on the gnomon began to glow with an otherworldly brilliance, casting their reflections onto the surrounding stones. your breath caught in your throat as the illumination revealed ancient glyphs on the temalacatl. the sight was nothing short of breathtaking; the symbols seemed to come alive in the moonlight, their meanings unfolding before your eyes.

“write everything down,” you instructed urgently, your voice barely above a whisper. yoongi, still in awe, nodded and quickly pulled out a notebook and pencil, capturing every detail of the illuminated symbols. as you both studied the glowing symbols, you read aloud the translations of the ones you recognized: “man,” “moon,” “light,” “vision,” “gold.” each word felt like a piece of a larger puzzle falling into place. the symbols began to fade, the light dimming until only the moonlight remained to highlight the ancient carvings.

you and yoongi huddled together, scrutinizing the symbols and comparing them to the translations you had written down. the process was meticulous, each detail requiring careful consideration. the illuminated symbols had revealed a pattern, a message encoded in the ancient language. after a series of detailed cross-references and careful matching, you both reached a conclusion.

he looked up from his notes, his expression reflecting the gravity of your findings. you took a deep breath and read aloud, your voice steady despite the enormity of the revelation: “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold.” the words hung in the air, their significance slowly sinking in. the message was clear; it was not the physical light that revealed the treasure, but rather a deeper understanding, guided by the celestial influence of the moon. it was a profound realization, a testament to the wisdom of the ancients and the power of the celestial realm in guiding you to your goal.

“what does it mean?” your question hung in the air, reverberating with a weight you could scarcely comprehend. your heart pounded with the intensity of the revelation, but before yoongi could respond with any further insight, another voice sliced through the silence.

“indeed, tell us,” the voice demanded, its tone cold and authoritative. “what does it mean?”

both you and yoongi turned towards the shadow that had emerged from the dense foliage. the moonlight, once a gentle guide, now cast a harsh light on the intruder. your breath caught in your throat as the figure stepped into the clearing. a tear-streaked smile graced his face, one that spoke of a complex web of emotions—pride, relief, and something else, something darker. he moved toward you with a deliberate calm, his eyes reflecting both sorrow and triumph.

“you did it,” your father said softly, his voice filled with an almost paternal affection. “i knew you would.”

the words, spoken with such a mix of warmth and finality, shattered something deep within you. the emotional dam you had been holding back broke free, and you began to sob uncontrollably. the sight of your father, after all you had been through, overwhelmed you. you stumbled back, instinctively clinging to yoongi, seeking comfort in his presence as the reality of the situation sank in.

your father’s eyes shifted to yoongi, his expression turning to one of cold calculation. “your silence will be well rewarded,” he said, his voice carrying a note of sinister finality.

panic surged through you. “what does he mean?” you asked yoongi, your voice trembling as you turned to him. the realization of betrayal was sharp, the knife of distrust cutting deeper with every passing second. you watched as his face fell, his expression crumpling into one of despair. your father’s gaze remained fixed on you, unyielding. “don’t you know? it took a lot of money to convince him not to tell you about me.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. betrayal surged through you, mingling with your grief. anger and hurt bubbled to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you slapped yoongi across the face. the sting of your hand on his cheek seemed to punctuate the pain of the moment. his eyes were wide with tears as he blinked them away, the hurt evident in every feature. “i’m sorry,” he managed to say, his voice choked. “i needed you to be safe.” the raw emotion in his voice made you cry harder, unable to calm down. you had trusted him implicitly, and now that trust lay in tatters. the anger slowly ebbed away, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion and a profound sense of betrayal.

your father’s approach was gentle as he reached out to stroke your hair. “i had to leave,” he explained softly, his voice soothing despite the turmoil. “you saw what they did to my study. i knew you would find the trail. i knew you would find me.” tears streamed down your face as his words washed over you, but you didn’t have the energy to resist. the emotional drain of the journey, combined with the shock of his unexpected reappearance and yoongi’s betrayal, left you numb.

“don’t be mad at yoongi,” your father continued, his hand still comforting. “he needed to be someone you could trust to make sure you were safe. it was the only way.”

you watched as yoongi knelt beside you, his face etched with regret and pain. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “i needed you to be safe. that’s all that mattered to me.” the sincerity in his apology, coupled with the exhaustion that had begun to overpower your emotions, made you too tired to respond. the weight of everything that had happened, from the dangerous chase through the jungle to the heart-wrenching betrayal, had left you drained.

as you followed the map in silence, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. you refused to look at either your father or yoongi, the emotional chasm between you all too wide to bridge in that moment. the forest seemed to close in around you as you walked, each step heavy with the burden of recent revelations.

as you walked through the dense foliage, the tension between you, your father, and yoongi was palpable. the weight of your father's unexpected reappearance, coupled with the sense of betrayal, made each step heavy with unresolved emotions. the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the path, illuminating the scene in an eerie, almost ethereal light. breaking the silence, you finally asked, “how did you know i’d find you?”

your father’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression filled with a mixture of pride and affection. “you're my daughter,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “the only one i have. i never doubted you. i always knew you’d find your way.” his words were a balm to your wounded heart, but they also served to deepen the confusion and sorrow swirling within you. you turned your gaze to yoongi, whose face was illuminated by the moonlight, the tear streaks on his cheeks glistening like silver trails in the dim light. his eyes met yours with a mixture of regret and longing, and the intensity of his emotions was almost palpable.

your father’s voice cut through the silence once more. “are you dating him?” he asked, his tone casual yet probing. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. you didn’t respond, the silence stretching into an uncomfortable pause. with a light-hearted chuckle, your father continued, “well, if you are, you have my approval.”

the words, though intended to be reassuring, did little to ease the tension. you remained focused on yoongi, whose silence spoke volumes. the complexity of your relationship with him, mixed with the recent revelations, made any further conversation feel almost impossible.

as you pressed on, you suddenly stumbled across a cave partially submerged in the water. the sight halted you in your tracks, the dim light of the moon reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, casting a shimmering glow on the entrance of the cave. you paused, your heart pounding with anticipation and trepidation. yoongi’s voice broke the silence, filled with apprehension. “is this a dead end?”

you turned to him, a determined glint in your eye. “only if you want it to be,” you replied, your voice steady and resolute. without further hesitation, you stepped into the water, the coldness biting at your skin as you waded deeper.

your father shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of resignation and concern. “i won’t make it down there,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. he turned to yoongi, his eyes serious. “take care of her.” the weight of his words settled heavily on yoongi’s shoulders. he nodded, his gaze never leaving you as you continued into the water. the cave entrance loomed ahead, its dark mouth beckoning with a promise of what lay beyond.

you glanced back at him, who gave you a reassuring nod before following you into the water. the chill of the water contrasted sharply with the heat of the jungle, and each step forward felt like a step closer to both resolution and revelation. as you entered the cave, the water rose to your chest, then your neck, and you finally took a deep breath as you submerged, guiding yourself into the unknown depths. the cave, shrouded in darkness, seemed to swallow you up as you swam forward, the sound of your movements echoing off the stone walls. the air was thick with the dampness of the underground world, and the only light came from the faint glow of the moon that seeped in through the entrance.

yoongi’s eyes darted to a narrow, submerged entrance in the cave, partially obscured by the swirling water. he pointed it out to you, his voice strained but determined. “there,” he said, the water dripping from his face and mixing with the sweat of exertion. “that’s our way through.” with a nod, you both dove into the water, the cold embrace momentarily startling you but quickly overshadowed by the urgency of the moment. the underwater passage was cramped, the water pressing against you as you swam with quick, determined strokes. your breaths were short and hurried, the cave’s darkness enveloping you completely.

the tunnel seemed endless, but eventually, you felt your feet touch solid ground. you surfaced, gasping for air, and took in the dimly lit cave around you. the cave's ceiling arched high above, its jagged edges silhouetted against the faint light that filtered through the entrance behind you. the air was cooler there, and the sound of dripping water echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to the anxious beats of your heart.

in front of you was a sheer drop, with a gap leading to another patch of land on the other side. the jump required looked daunting, and the void between you and safety seemed to stretch endlessly. the sight made your heart race with a mix of fear and doubt.

yoongi squeezed your hand, his gaze steady and unwavering. “i know you hate me right now,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “but i need you to know that i love you.” the intensity of his words took you aback. despite the betrayal that still stung, you could feel the sincerity in his voice, and the confession seemed to bridge a chasm of its own. “i love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

with a sudden, determined grin, yoongi stepped back, bracing himself. without further hesitation, he took a running leap and soared over the gap. the space seemed to hold its breath as he landed on the other side with a solid thud, his form illuminated briefly by the moonlight. your fear spiked, but his encouraging smile reassured you. “i’ll help you up,” he called, his voice echoing back to you.

you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the jump. with a final glance at yoongi’s outstretched hand, you leaped across the void, your heart pounding in your chest. his hands caught yours with a firm grip, and he helped you scramble up to his side. relief flooded through you as you stood on solid ground once more.

as you both entered the water again, the cold of the underground lake was a sharp contrast to the warmth of your fear-induced sweat. you swam through the dark water, the only sound being the echo of your strokes and the distant, intermittent drip of water. reaching the opposite shore, you were greeted by an oppressive darkness. the cave was pitch black, and the vast emptiness before you seemed to absorb any hint of light. you turned to him, voicing your concern. “it might actually be a dead end,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration.

he shook his head, refusing to give in to despair. “i don’t believe it,” he said firmly. he paused, the realization dawning on him. “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold,” he recalled, his face lighting up with sudden comprehension. “needs not light to see.”

your heart skipped a beat as you reached for your backpack, pulling out the waterproof flares you had packed. “three flares,” you said, glancing at him. “twenty minutes each. one hour.” yoongi nodded, his expression determined. “we’ll use them to explore.”

you struck the first flare, the brilliant orange light cutting through the impenetrable darkness. the cavern in front of you came alive with a sudden, warm glow, revealing intricate patterns etched into the stone. the illuminated symbols seemed to beckon you forward, their shapes dancing in the flare’s light as if guiding you deeper into the cave’s heart. the sight was both mesmerizing and exhilarating. the path ahead was illuminated, leading you further into the cave. you and yoongi exchanged a look of resolute determination before plunging into the illuminated darkness, the flares lighting the way to whatever lay hidden in the depths.

the flare’s light carved a path through the dense darkness, guiding you and yoongi deeper into the cave. with each step, the cavern walls seemed to pulse with a golden glow, hinting at the marvel that lay beyond. as you rounded a final bend, the flare’s illumination suddenly gave way to an awe-inspiring spectacle.

you both froze, your breath catching in your throats as the room came into full view. the cavern stretched out before you, a vast, breathtaking expanse of shimmering gold. the walls, ceiling, and floor were encrusted with gold, every crack and crevice glistening with a rich, golden hue. the light from the flare reflected off the gold, casting dazzling patterns across the cavern's surface and creating an ethereal glow that made the entire room seem to pulse with life.

the sight was nothing short of magnificent. you felt as though you had stumbled upon a forgotten world, a treasure trove of immense beauty and unimaginable wealth. gold hung from every corner, cascading in delicate strands, and the floor was scattered with golden relics and artifacts, each one telling a story of a bygone era. yoongi's hand tightened around yours as he pulled you gently into the heart of the cavern.

his eyes, wide with disbelief and wonder, met yours. with a joyous smile, he leaned in and planted a tender, congratulatory kiss on your cheek. “we did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride and relief. the words hung in the air between you as you both took in the sheer splendor of the room. it was as if you were standing in the very heart of a legend come to life, the stories and myths you had heard becoming tangible reality. the gold seemed to sing with a history long forgotten, and the room itself felt like a living testament to an age of grandeur.

you moved towards the piles of gold scattered around, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the cavern. yoongi helped you fill your bags with chunks of raw gold, the weight of the precious metal a satisfying burden. each piece you picked up seemed to hold a piece of the cavern’s magic, and the act of collecting it felt like a ritual of its own. as you both worked, you took moments to pause and admire the room once more. the golden light played on your faces, highlighting the awe and wonder in your eyes. It was a place where history and legend had merged into something tangible and breathtaking, a reality that far surpassed any story ever told.

once your bags were filled to the brim with gold, you paused to take one final look at the cavern. the scene before you was so stunningly beautiful that it was almost surreal. you knew you would carry this image with you forever—the shimmering gold, the sense of triumph, and the shared wonder of discovering something so extraordinary. with a final, lingering glance at the cavern, you and yoongi began your journey back. the return trip was a mix of careful navigation and unspoken understanding, both of you focused on retracing your steps through the dark, illuminated only by the faint, dwindling glow of the flares.

emerging from the cave, you were greeted by the cool, crisp air of dawn. the first light of morning kissed the horizon with a soft, golden glow, a stark contrast to the dark, glittering realm you had just left behind. you and yoongi stood at the cave’s entrance, the early light painting a serene picture after the chaos you had endured. overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment and the relief of having succeeded, you turned to yoongi and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. it was a moment of pure, unguarded emotion—a celebration of your shared victory and the bond you had forged.

but the peace was shattered abruptly. a gunshot rang out, echoing through the tranquil morning. the bullet struck the tree above you, the sharp crack splitting the air and causing you both to jerk in surprise. you spun around, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you.

standing there, calm and menacing, was your father. his eyes, once filled with warmth and encouragement, were now shadowed with a mixture of resignation and fear. the most chilling aspect, however, was the gun pressed firmly against his temple. your breath caught in your throat, your relief swiftly morphing into dread.

“i knew you would find it.” the words hung in the air, each one a knife twisting into your heart.

yoongi’s arms instinctively moved to shield you, his protective presence a stark contrast to the danger that now surrounded you. the world seemed to shrink to just the three of them—yoongi, your father, and jungkook, who had guided you there, now at gunpoint.

your father shook his head sadly, the gun still pressed to his head. he spoke softly, trying to convey his message despite the dire circumstances. “it isn’t worth it,” he said, his voice trembling. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. jungkook was not just any adversary; he was the one behind the failed museum heist, the reason why the break-in was discarded, the one who had been after the same treasure you sought. everything fell into place—the clues, the tension, and now, this horrifying confrontation.

desperation surged through you. “drop the gun,” you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. “leave my father be.”

to your astonishment, jungkook momentarily lowered the gun, a fleeting hope flickering in your chest. but it was quickly extinguished when he aimed the gun back at you. “you’re right,” he said with a chilling calmness, “you’re the one i should be shooting.”

yoongi’s grip on you tightened, his body a shield against the threat. jungkook’s gun shifted to target him instead. “don’t be a hero,” he ordered, his voice icy and unyielding.

tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart breaking at the sight of the man you loved being placed in such danger. you leaned into yoongi’s embrace, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m so sorry,” you choked out, the weight of your apology heavy with the knowledge of the peril you had brought upon him.

yoongi’s eyes were filled with an intense, unwavering love. “i love you,” he said fiercely, “and no amount of gold could ever compare to you.” his words were both a comfort and a heart-wrenching reminder of what was at stake. he held you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. the love in his eyes was unwavering even in the face of imminent danger. you turned to your father, whose eyes were full of regret and sorrow. he met your gaze with an apologetic smile, and you saw him mouth an “i love you.” the sight made your heart ache, the final, heart-wrenching goodbye unspoken but deeply felt.

a scream rose in your throat, but before you could utter it, the scene unfolded in a blur. your father lunged at jungkook, his actions fueled by a mix of desperation and bravery. the two of them collided, struggling fiercely. the struggle was chaotic, and in the turmoil, they both tumbled over the edge of the cliff.

you watched in horror as they fell, your father’s figure disappearing from view. the sound of their impact was muffled by the distance, but the sight of their lifeless forms on the ground below was clear. the sight of their bodies, unmoving and broken, left a raw, aching void in your chest.

yoongi wrapped his arms around you, his own tears mingling with yours as you both stood there, grief-stricken and devastated. his embrace was the only thing grounding you as you both wept. the cavern, the treasure, and the journey seemed insignificant compared to the unbearable weight of loss that now pressed upon you. in the cold light of the morning, the world felt empty, hollow. the triumph of your discovery was overshadowed by the profound sorrow of your father’s death and the jungkook's betrayal. yoongi’s presence was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming grief, his strength and support a beacon in the darkness of your loss.

the journey back was a somber one. as you and yoongi made your way through the tangled undergrowth, the golden dawn now a distant memory, you both climbed into the small boat you had left tethered by the shore. the morning’s light was gentle, casting a muted glow over the rippling water. the boat’s wooden frame creaked under the weight of your sadness and the burden of the gold you had decided to leave behind.

yoongi’s touch was gentle, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder as you sat side by side. the silence between you was profound, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the distant sounds of nature—the lapping of the water against the boat, the chirping of birds—seemed almost foreign against the backdrop of your grief.

as the boat glided over the shimmering surface, yoongi reached into his bag and pulled out a small, glistening piece of gold. His fingers were deft as he used a small tool to carefully engrave your father’s name into the metal. the delicate scratch of the tool against the gold was the only sound that marked this poignant moment. his movements were meticulous, his concentration evident as he worked with steady hands.

when he was finished, he held up the gold piece for you to see. “this is for him,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. with a heavy heart, you watched as yoongi released the engraved gold into the water. it sank slowly, disappearing beneath the surface, leaving ripples in its wake. you clung to him, the weight of your loss pressing heavily on your chest.

the boat journey seemed endless, each wave a reminder of the pain you carried. the hours passed in silence, the water reflecting the sky’s changing colors as the day progressed. when you finally reached the shore, the sight of the city brought a mix of relief and apprehension.

the moment you set foot on solid ground, the press was there, waiting for you. the bright flashes of cameras and the clamor of questions assaulted you. “why did you disappear?” one journalist asked. “did you have anything to do with the museum break-in?” another queried.

yoongi stood protectively beside you, his presence a steadying force as you fielded the questions. “we were on an expedition,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “we discovered something significant, but the details are still being finalized.” the press thronged around you, but yoongi guided you through the crowd and into the waiting car. the drive back to the penthouse was a blur, the cityscape slipping past the window in muted colors. when you arrived, the penthouse was an unexpected haven of calm.

inside, the weight of the world seemed to lift slightly. you sank into bed, yoongi’s arms wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. the events of the past days felt like a distant dream, and the victory you had once celebrated now seemed bittersweet. he held you close, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m so proud of you,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. “you did it.”

in the quiet of the night, as you lay beside him, you whispered, “i did it.” the victory felt hollow against the backdrop of loss, but yoongi’s presence was a balm to your wounded heart. you felt a flicker of hope amid the sadness.

the next day was a whirlwind of ceremony and celebration. the city honored your discovery with a grand ceremony held in your names. the venue was adorned with gold accents, a tribute to the treasure you had uncovered. as you and yoongi stood on the stage, the applause and cheers from the crowd felt distant and surreal. the ceremony was a testament to your achievement, but the joy was tempered by the sorrow of your recent loss.

later, in the quiet of your kitchen, you found a moment of peace. yoongi leaned against the counter, watching you with a curious smile. “what are you making?” he asked, his tone light. you looked up from your work, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “you fulfilled your promise,” you said, placing a cup of affogato in front of him. “now it’s my turn to fulfill mine.”

hia eyes softened as he took in the gesture, the warmth of the moment soothing the lingering ache in your heart. he took a sip, his expression one of contentment. as you joined him, the kitchen became a sanctuary—a place where the echoes of the past week could be put aside, if only for a moment, to savor the present and the future you were beginning to build together.

✧.*

a/n: ok outer banks crossover!!! i was gonna kill yoongi off ngl

a little older (더 나이든) — min yoongi (민 윤기)

✧.* 18+

building a life of your own was supposed to be the most important thing, a sacred endeavor carved out of dreams and determination. it was meant to be a testament to resilience, a collection of moments carefully stacked like cards, each one representing a triumph, a choice, a whispered hope. every decision, every relationship, every step forward was like placing a new card on the fragile structure—delicate, yet full of potential. there was an elegance in the construction, a beauty in the precariousness, as each layer rose higher, promising a future that was uniquely yours.

the foundation was always more fragile than it seemed. life, with all its unpredictable twists, was like a breath of wind, capable of unsettling even the sturdiest of foundations. the careful balance, once so meticulously maintained, could be disrupted by a single misstep, a fleeting moment of imbalance. and when it happened—when that one card faltered—it was as if time slowed, the world held its breath, and the house of cards began to tremble. in an instant, everything you had built with such care, such hope, began to collapse. the cards fell, one by one, in a cascading rush of loss. it wasn’t just the physical manifestations of your efforts that crumbled; it was the dreams, the aspirations, the very essence of what you had imagined your life could be. the crash was both silent and deafening, a paradox of destruction that left you standing in the aftermath, surrounded by the scattered remnants of what once was.

in those moments, it became clear that the life you had built, so painstakingly and with such love, was never as invincible as you had believed. it was delicate, ephemeral, a structure of possibilities rather than certainties. and now, with the cards lying in disarray around you, the realization settled in—building a life of your own was not just about the construction, but about the constant balance, the vigilance, the understanding that everything could be lost in a heartbeat. the house of cards was beautiful while it stood, but it was a fragile beauty, one that required more than just ambition to sustain—it demanded a deep awareness of its own impermanence.

the gentle hum of rome surrounded you like a comforting embrace, the city's timeless charm intertwining with the luxurious life you had carefully crafted for yourself. the cobblestone streets underfoot, the scent of freshly brewed espresso wafting through the air, and the vibrant murmur of voices from nearby tables—all were part of the life you had come to know and love. it was a life of indulgence, of quiet moments in quaint coffee shops between photoshoots, where you could savor the richness of your success, the delicate balance of beauty and fame that you had so skillfully maintained.

your phone vibrated softly on the marble tabletop, interrupting your thoughts. the screen flashed with the name of your manager, a reminder of the world that existed just beyond this fleeting moment of peace. you took a slow sip of your coffee before answering, already knowing the conversation that was about to unfold. “why won't you be able to make the shoot in milan?” her voice, usually calm and composed, carried a note of urgency, of disappointment that you could almost feel through the line.

you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the decision you had already made. “i gotta go back to daegu,” you began, choosing your words carefully as you gazed out at the bustling street, the vibrant life that you had temporarily claimed as your own. “i was enjoying some time off between shoots, but i have to go back. my mother called. she wants to get the family together.”

there was a brief pause on the other end of the line, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you. then, your manager exhaled, the disappointment in her voice palpable as she responded. “i'm disappointed. you know how important this shoot is, how much it could mean for your career. but i understand—family comes first.” you ended the call with a simple, “i'll be in touch,” the finality of the words echoing in your mind long after the call had disconnected. the weight of her disappointment hung over you like a shadow, mingling with your own. you were disappointed, too—disappointed that your carefully constructed life, the life you had fought so hard to create, was once again being pulled away by forces you couldn’t control.

the last thing you wanted was to spend a month in daegu, surrounded by your family and whoever else your mother decided to invite into your life. you had built something here, something that was yours alone. the glitz and glamour of the modeling world were more than just a career—they were your escape, your sanctuary from the past you had left behind. the riches, the fame, the adoration of the media—they were all a part of the life you had chosen, a life that felt worlds apart from the one that awaited you back home.

your father had always been supportive, his pride in your achievements a quiet but constant presence in your life. but your mother, your mother was another story. she had never truly understood the life you had built, never missed an opportunity to remind you of the family you had left behind, the obligations she believed you were neglecting. she was too emotional, too needy, always quick to turn to you with her problems, her fears, using you as her therapist when all you wanted was to be her daughter. it was a role you had never wanted, a burden you had never asked for, and one that had driven a deep wedge between the two of you.

as you sat in the coffee shop, the realization settled in with a dull ache—you didn’t want to go back. not now, not ever. the life you had built was there, in those moments of quiet luxury, in the thrill of the spotlight, in the knowledge that you were beautiful and that the world loved you for it. the idea of returning to daegu, to the suffocating expectations of family, was almost unbearable.

and yet, there you were, about to board a plane back to the place you had spent so many years trying to escape. you knew that once you were there, the walls you had so carefully constructed around yourself would start to crumble, brick by brick, as your mother’s words chipped away at the confidence you had so painstakingly built. but for now, you let yourself savor the last of your trip. you let the warmth of the roman sun wash over you, let the taste of rich coffee linger on your tongue, let the sound of the city’s heartbeat fill your ears. you allowed yourself this final moment of peace, a small luxury before the storm that awaited you back home.

the airport was a sea of hurried footsteps and murmured conversations, a place of constant motion and transient connections. the lights overhead were bright, almost glaring, casting a harsh glow on the polished floors and sleek, modern architecture. you walked through the bustling terminal with your head down, the brim of your hat casting a shadow over your face. the hat was slightly too big, the edges brushing against your sunglasses, but it was a necessary discomfort. you knew the hat and shades might draw attention, might make people look twice, but it was a risk you were willing to take. you couldn’t afford to be recognized tonight—not when the weight of the decision to return to daegu was already pressing down on you.

the noise of the terminal was a constant hum in your ears, a backdrop of lives intersecting and parting ways. you moved with purpose, but each step felt heavy, as if the gravity of what awaited you back home was pulling you down. the bustling crowd gave you a sense of anonymity, a comfort in the chaos, but there was always the underlying fear—what if someone recognized you? what if a single glance, a moment of misplaced attention, shattered the fragile anonymity you clung to?

you reached the gate, the final checkpoint before you could slip into the relative safety of the plane. the lady at the gate, dressed in a crisp uniform, greeted you with a professional smile, her eyes scanning you briefly before she spoke. “ticket, please.” you handed it over, your fingers brushing against the smooth paper, and you watched as she glanced at it, her expression unchanged until her eyes fell on your name. the realization dawned in her eyes, a flicker of recognition that quickly blossomed into a wide smile.

her voice dropped to a near whisper, a mix of awe and excitement as she spoke again, her tone more personal now. “are you in first class?” you nodded, a small, polite gesture, before affirming softly, “yes, i am.” her fingers trembled slightly as she checked the ticket, the formalities of her job momentarily forgotten as she glanced back up at you. the admiration in her eyes was unmistakable, a look you had seen a thousand times before, but one that still made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“i’m such a big fan,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “would you mind—?” she trailed off, pulling out a poster she had tucked away—a poster of you, one from a recent campaign, your face smiling back at you with a confidence you didn’t quite feel in this moment. you forced a smile, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you replied, “of course.” you took the pen she offered, your hand moving almost automatically as you signed your name, the signature that had become so familiar to you, yet felt so alien in moments like this. the pen scratched lightly against the glossy paper, the sound almost lost in the noise of the terminal, but to you, it felt deafening. when you finished, you handed the poster back to her, your smile still in place despite the churning in your stomach.

“thank you so much,” she gushed, her voice barely above a whisper now, as if she were afraid to break the spell. “i hope you have a safe flight.” you nodded again, murmuring your thanks as you took your ticket back, slipping it into your bag with hands that felt too heavy, too cumbersome. the brief encounter had left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that only the public eye could make you feel. as you walked away, towards the plane that would take you back to a life you weren’t ready to face, you kept your head low, your hat pulled down just a little further, your sunglasses pressed tightly to your face.

the publicity was suffocating, a constant reminder of the life you had chosen, a life that came with its own set of rules and expectations. there were moments, fleeting but persistent, when all you wanted was a normal life—one where you could walk through an airport without being recognized, where you could board a plane without the weight of fame pressing down on your shoulders. but that life wasn’t yours to live, not anymore. so you kept your shades on, the brim of your hat shielding you from the world as you made your way to the gate, your steps quickening as you neared the entrance to the plane. you handed your ticket to the flight attendant, her smile professional and warm, and without a word, you slipped past her and into the sanctuary of first class. you found your seat and settled in, sinking into the plush leather with a sigh that was more of resignation than relief.

daegu’s air felt different the moment you stepped off the plane. the warm breeze carried with it the scent of familiarity—of home, of memories both cherished and forgotten. you moved through the terminal with a practiced ease, gathering your luggage as if in a trance. the sleek, designer suitcases were a stark contrast to the airport’s simple decor, a reminder of the life you had built away from here.

once you had everything in hand, you made your way out of the airport, your hat still pulled low over your face, your sunglasses firmly in place. the crowds here were less intense, less likely to recognize you, but you weren’t taking any chances. it was better to remain hidden until you were safely out of public view. you stepped out into the open air, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement, and you quickly hailed a cab.

the driver—a man in his mid-fifties with a kind, weathered face—didn’t say much as you slid into the back seat. you gave him the address, and he nodded, pulling away from the curb without a word. the silence was a gift, and you found yourself grateful for it. the drive through daegu’s familiar streets was oddly comforting, the buildings and landscapes bringing back a flood of memories, some pleasant, others less so.

as the car approached your childhood home, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. you tipped the driver a bit extra as a silent thank you for the uninterrupted journey, and he accepted it with a small, appreciative nod. only when you were certain you were out of sight did you finally remove your sunglasses and hat, letting the cool air of the evening touch your face. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping out of the cab.

the sight that greeted you was unexpected—your parents stood in front of the house, their faces alight with joy, and a small group of people you didn’t recognize clustered around them. there was a makeshift cookout in the yard, the smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filling the air. it was a welcome-home celebration, one that should have made you feel warm inside, but instead, it only heightened your unease.

your father was the first to approach, his arms open wide. he was a strong, silent man, not one for overt displays of affection, but in this moment, he wrapped you in a hug that spoke volumes. you allowed yourself to sink into the embrace, feeling a flicker of genuine warmth. when he released you, you noticed your mother standing off to the side, her expression slightly pinched, as if disappointed that she hadn’t been the first to greet you. still, you turned to her with a smile, pulling her into a hug. her embrace was firmer, more scrutinizing, as if she were searching for something. “you’ve gotten thinner,” she remarked, pulling back to look at you, her tone half-critical, half-concerned.

you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, brushing off her comment. “that’s part of my job, mom.”  your father’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he added, “and you’ve gotten prettier, too.” he smiled as he stroked your hair, a gesture that felt both tender and grounding.

“i’ve missed you both,” you said, the words slipping out before you could fully process them. they felt genuine, though, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the comfort of this reunion. but the moment was fleeting, your eyes drifting to the unfamiliar faces in the yard. “who are all these people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and slight irritation—from your voice.

your father gestured towards the group, his tone casual as he began introducing you to each of them. “these are some family friends. they’re only here for the day, but one of them will be staying for the month.” you smiled and nodded politely as each person was introduced, some of them expressing admiration for your work. you’d gotten used to it—meeting people who knew you before you knew them—but it didn’t make the encounters any less awkward.

“who’s the one staying?” you asked your father, trying to mask the apprehension in your voice. he chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “you know him very well.”

you frowned, confusion knitting your brow. “what do you mean by that?” your father didn’t answer directly. instead, he simply gestured to a man walking toward you from the other side of the yard. you turned to look, your breath catching slightly as you took in his appearance. he was handsome, undeniably so, with a soft smile on his lips and a calm, confident way of moving. there was something familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place it.

as he approached, his smile widened. “no, this can’t be (y/n),” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. for a moment, all you could think was how striking he was, and how frustrating it was that you couldn’t remember who he was. your father beamed with pride, his gaze flickering between you and the man. “she’s pretty, isn’t she?” he asked, his voice full of paternal affection.

the man nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “gorgeous,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. there was a pause before he added, “do you remember me?” you searched his face, trying to dig through the layers of your memory, but nothing came to mind. with a reluctant shake of your head, you admitted, “i’m sorry, but no.”

your father laughed, a deep, hearty sound that rumbled through the air. “this is yoongi. he used to come over all the time to take care of you when you were younger and home alone.” your eyes widened in recognition, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. “yoongi?” you echoed, incredulity coloring your voice.

he nodded, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i’ve changed a bit, haven’t i?” you laughed nervously, still processing the transformation before you. “only in the best way,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

yoongi shrugged, the smile on his face turning a bit wry. “that’s what divorce does.” you blinked in surprise, the revelation catching you off guard. “you, you divorced miss jeon?”

he nodded, his expression calm, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “yeah. it was for the best, though.” you shook your head slightly, still reeling from the news. miss jeon had been such a constant presence in your life, always there to help out, to cook meals when your parents were busy. the idea of her and yoongi no longer being together felt strange, almost surreal. sensing your shock, yoongi gave you a reassuring look. “don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “it was the best outcome for both of us.”

you nodded slowly, still absorbing the information. “it’s just hard to believe.” he smiled again, this time a bit more softly. “i know. but it’s good to see you again.” he paused, stepping forward to envelop you in a warm hug, his arms strong and comforting. as he pulled back, he added with a teasing glint in his eye, “and don’t worry—you’ll be seeing a lot more of me for the next month.” you managed a smile in return, though your mind was still spinning with the unexpected turn of events.

yoongi had changed significantly, to your shock. it seemed to make your father chuckle, his amusement evident at your reaction, but it wasn't temporary shock. you found yourself staring at him for a second too long, trying to process how much he had changed. he was handsome, he seemed less stoic than you remembered. he had been taking care of himself, it was evident in the way his skin shined under the sunlight and how his muscles flexed in his shirt that was just, maybe, a little too tight. you had remembered him as skinny, borderline bland, but he took good care of you while he had to. he looked amazing for his age, even though he wasn't too older than you.

his mine had chosen to run wild, too. he was aware that you were no longer the little girl he watched over with his ex-wife. you had changed, blossomed into a woman. he knew it beforehand, when you had started working. as much as you were a global hit, you were a national star just as much, if not more. he had seen the photos, the interviews, the shoots. the first time he saw them, your father had showed them to him with a proud smile on his face that seemed to clash with yoongi's shock. it wasn't negative in the slightest, he simply couldn't believe how bold and beautiful you had gotten. seeing you in person made all the difference, you were even prettier in person.

the hot water cascaded over your skin, the steady stream washing away the lingering tension of the day. you stood under the showerhead, eyes closed, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, relaxing the knots that had formed from the journey and the unexpected reunion. the steam filled the small bathroom, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of heat and humidity. the scent of the lavender-scented body wash mingled with the steam, creating an almost meditative atmosphere. there, in the quiet, steamy space, the world outside felt distant, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be fully present, savoring the solitude.

but as you turned off the water and reached for a towel, your hand met only empty space. panic sparked in your chest as you realized you had forgotten to bring one with you. the heat from the shower quickly dissipated, leaving your skin to prickle with the chill of the air. you glanced around the bathroom, hoping to find a spare towel or anything to cover yourself with, but there was nothing.

resigned, you wrapped your arms around yourself as best as you could, trying to cover your body as you opened the bathroom door just a crack. the house was quiet, the murmur of conversation from the yard barely audible through the walls. it was late, and most of the guests had left. you took a deep breath, assuring yourself that everyone else was either outside or already settled in for the night. the coast was clear. you stepped out into the hallway, your bare feet making no sound on the cool wooden floor. with your hands still clutched to your chest, you hurried towards your room, your steps quick and silent. the soft hum of the house was the only sound accompanying you, and you felt a small sense of relief as you neared the safety of your door.

but as you rounded the corner, your breath caught in your throat. standing in the hallway, just a few feet away, was yoongi. He froze, his eyes wide with surprise as they locked onto yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, the shock of the situation rooting you both in place. yoongi’s gaze traveled down, his eyes widening further as he took in the sight of you—damp, vulnerable, and very much exposed. you saw the moment he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping back up to your face, filled with a mix of apology and something you couldn’t quite place. his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. he seemed to be struggling with himself, as if trying to force his eyes away, but they lingered just a second too long before he finally managed to turn his head, averting his gaze.

your heart pounded in your chest, embarrassment flooding your system as you clutched the clothes in your hands to your body, trying to cover as much of yourself as possible. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “i forgot to bring a towel.” he shook his head quickly, his back still turned to you, his voice strained as he replied, “no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have looked. i didn’t mean to—i wasn’t trying to—” his words trailed off awkwardly, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he gestured vaguely for you to return to the bathroom. “just go back. i won’t look.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. with your heart still racing, you turned on your heel and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. leaning against the cool tile, you let out a shaky breath, your skin tingling from both the chill and the residual heat of the shower. the image of his face, the way he had looked at you, flashed through your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat up in a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

meanwhile, yoongi stood in the hallway, cursing himself silently. he had seen you grow up, watched you transform from the little girl he used to babysit into the stunning woman you were now. but that didn’t give him the right to look at you like that, to let his gaze linger when he knew he should have looked away. you were his friend’s daughter, and he was supposed to be here to support you, not ogle you like some kind of creep. he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel the image of you that was now seared into his mind—the way your wet hair clung to your neck, the water droplets that had trailed down your skin, the way you had looked at him with those wide, startled eyes. he had to have some restraint. he couldn’t afford to lose control, not there, not now.

on the other side of the door, you were having similar thoughts. you couldn’t believe you had been so careless, so oblivious to the possibility that someone might see you. the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, or worse, to leave him with a bad impression of you. you had always respected him, admired him even, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had ruined everything with one careless mistake. as you slowly dressed, your hands still trembling slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect the next few weeks. you would be seeing a lot more of him, and the thought of facing him after what had just happened filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

dinner that evening was quiet, the usual hum of the house interrupted only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain and the soft murmurs of conversation. the long wooden table, covered with a simple white cloth, held the comforting spread of homemade dishes—steamed vegetables, grilled meats, and a bowl of steaming rice, all of which your mother had prepared with care. you had slipped into the kitchen earlier, wordlessly assisting her in setting the table and serving the food. she had smiled at you, her face softening with an expression you hadn’t seen in years. “thank you for helping,” she had said, her voice tinged with a quiet appreciation that made you pause. you had simply nodded in return, trying to ignore the strange twist in your chest.

as you walked into the dining room, you couldn’t help but notice yoongi seated at the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, as if he were silently observing everything around him. you caught his gaze for the briefest moment, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were dark, reflecting the soft light of the room, and when he looked at you, it felt as though he could see right through you. flustered, you quickly looked away, busying yourself with placing the last of the dishes on the table. your mother noticed the faint pink on your cheeks but said nothing, though a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“you look beautiful in that dress,” yoongi said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the comfortable silence. You froze for a moment, the compliment catching you off guard. the white dress was simple, something you had thrown on without much thought, but the way he said it made it feel like a grand gesture.

“yes, it really suits you,” your mother added, her tone bright. she was beaming at you, clearly pleased that someone had noticed. you forced a smile, your hands twisting the fabric of your dress nervously. you could feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and when you finally looked up, he was smiling at you—not just a polite smile, but something warmer, softer, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you tried to smile back, but your lips wobbled with the effort.

you took your seat, feeling his presence beside you like a tangible force, even though he was seated across the table. your father, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, began to ask you about your recent time in italy. “how was it?” he inquired, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

you paused, gathering your thoughts, and then answered, “i indulged in three things in italy—writing, wine, and men.” the words slipped out with a playful lilt, intended to tease, and the room erupted in laughter. your father chuckled, your mother giggled, and even some of the guests offered polite laughs. but yoongi’s reaction was different. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and there was something stiff about the way he forced it onto his face. you caught the change in his expression and quickly looked away, but the image of his tight-lipped smile lingered in your mind. the thought of you—his little princess, as he had once affectionately called you—indulging in men made his stomach churn. he couldn’t reconcile the image of the young girl he had known with the woman sitting before him now.

“did you find a boyfriend?” your mother asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes. the question was laced with expectation, but you shook your head, dismissing the idea. “no, i don’t have time for that,” you replied, waving off the notion with a flick of your hand. the truth was, the thought of settling down, of committing to someone, felt suffocating, especially when your life was a whirlwind of photoshoots and travel. you enjoyed the company, the fleeting connections, but nothing more.

your father nodded thoughtfully and asked about your writing, his voice full of encouragement. “and your writing? how’s that going?” you hesitated for a moment, thinking about the journals and notes you had scribbled away during your time abroad. “i’ve done some dabbling here and there,” you admitted, keeping your tone light. you knew your father was proud of your creativity, always encouraging you to express yourself. but the truth was that the words you had written were a reflection of your darkest thoughts, the sides of yourself you kept hidden from the world. they were pieces of you that you had no intention of sharing.

“you should show us sometime,” he suggested, smiling warmly at you. you nodded, knowing full well that you never would. those words were yours alone, a private sanctuary in a life that was otherwise so public. as dinner wound down, the conversation grew quieter, the energy of the evening mellowing out. the food was nearly finished, and you pushed your plate aside, offering to help your mother clear the table. “i’ll do it,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather the empty plates.

“i’ll help,” yoongi offered, standing up almost immediately, his hands reaching for the dishes as well. you glanced at him, surprised by his sudden eagerness, but you didn’t refuse. together, the two of you worked in silence, clearing the table and bringing the dishes into the kitchen. the room was warm, filled with the lingering smells of the meal, and the only sound was the soft clinking of dishes being stacked.

as you reached for the same plate, your fingers brushed against his. the touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through your system, your breath catching in your throat. you looked up, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. his expression softened, something unreadable in his gaze, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks. you both pulled your hands away quickly, embarrassed by the unintended contact. “sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you focused on the dishes. “no, it’s fine,” yoongi replied, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there. he paused, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply turned away, continuing to clear the table.

the house had quieted down after dinner, the lingering smells of the meal now replaced with the comforting scent of night. you had helped your mother finish up in the kitchen, and after a few more polite exchanges with the guests, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from the long journey. your mother had given you a gentle, knowing smile, and your father had patted your shoulder, telling you to rest well. but even as you ascended the stairs, the house settling into a comfortable stillness, your thoughts were far from calm.

in your room, you began your nightly routine, each action methodical and deliberate, as if going through the motions might settle the unease in your chest. you pulled on a shirt—a soft, oversized one that hung loosely on your frame, the hem brushing against the tops of your thighs. it was one of those shirts that felt like a second skin, comforting in its familiarity. you paired it with a simple set of panties, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. the choice was practical, a blend of comfort and modesty, yet there was something almost intimate about it, a reminder of the solitude of the night.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror, the reflection showing a woman who should have been ready for sleep. but instead, your thoughts were restless, wandering to places you couldn’t quite control. you climbed into bed, the cool sheets welcoming against your warm skin, but the moment your head hit the pillow, you knew sleep would not come easily. there was something tugging at you, an inexplicable pull that you couldn’t ignore. it started as a whisper at the back of your mind, an insistent urge that grew louder with each passing moment. you told yourself it was foolish, that you should simply close your eyes and rest, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became.

before you knew it, you were slipping out of bed, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as you made your way out of your room. the house was dark, save for the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, casting long, pale shadows along the hallway. you moved quietly, the soft rustling of your shirt the only sound as you padded down the corridor, your heart beating steadily in your chest. you paused outside yoongi’s room, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the hall. you could hear him inside, the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet sound of his movements. you knew you shouldn’t be here, that you should turn around and go back to bed, but something kept you rooted to the spot.

you peered through the gap in the door, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you. yoongi was standing by the bed, his back to you, shirtless. his skin was pale, almost glowing in the soft light, his muscles defined yet subtle, the kind of physique that spoke of quiet strength. his shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist, and as he reached for a shirt, you couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps flexed, the smooth lines of his back. you knew it was wrong to look, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drawn to the way the muscles in his back moved as he pulled the shirt over his head.

it was only when he turned around, his eyes locking with yours, that you realized you had been caught. your breath hitched, a wave of heat flooding your face as you stumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, “i didn’t mean to—” but he just smiled, that familiar, soft smile that you had seen countless times before. it was a smile that was both understanding and amused, as if he found your embarrassment endearing rather than intrusive. “it’s alright,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “you don’t have to apologize.”

you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the awkwardness of the situation, but then you found your voice again. “i just wanted to wish you a good night,” you said, your tone earnest, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. his smile widened, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he replied, “good night to you too.” there was a moment of silence, the air between you thick with something unspoken, and then you nodded, offering him a small, shy smile before turning to leave. as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of it sending a shiver down your spine.

when you returned to your room, the sense of restlessness had faded, replaced by a strange, warm feeling that you couldn’t quite explain. you slipped back into bed, pulling the sheets up around you, but this time, your thoughts were quieter, your mind slowly drifting towards sleep. in the room down the hall, yoongi stood for a moment, his mind replaying the brief exchange. he chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you had grown and changed, to him, you were still that sweet, flustered angel—the same girl he had known all those years ago.

yoongi lay in the oppressive stillness of his room, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions. the darkness enveloped him, offering no comfort, only amplifying the storm within. every attempt to find solace was met with the image of you in that absurdly tight white dress, an image that had seared itself into his consciousness with unforgiving clarity.

the sight of you—no longer the innocent child he once knew but a vision of such tantalizing allure—it was no shock when his hand found its way to his clothed dick, a silent admission of the battle he was losing. he began to stroke himself tentatively, the fabric of his boxers a barrier that only served to heighten the anticipation. his mind was a minefield of guilt and desire, each step he took towards release laden with the weight of his transgressions. he knew he should stop, that he should find some semblance of dignity and self-control, but his body was a traitor, demanding release from the prison of his own making.

his strokes grew more deliberate with his boxers gone, the friction increasing as he thought of what it would be like to touch you, to explore the softness of your skin and the heat that he was sure lay beneath. he bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pleasure, his eyes fixed on the door that separated you from his indecent thoughts. the knowledge that you were so close only served to exacerbate his arousal, making his hand move faster and with more urgency.

his breath hitched as he imagined the moment of penetration, his cock pushing into you, feeling the warmth and wetness that was so alien to his usual solitary rituals. his hand was a poor substitute, but in the quiet of the night, it was all he had. the tension grew, a coil tightening in his balls, and he knew he was close. his thoughts grew more fervent, his strokes more frantic, until finally, with a silent groan, he reached climax.

his hand was sticky with his own release, a reminder of his failure to resist temptation. the guilt washed over him like a cold shower, leaving him trembling and ashamed. he knew he should clean up, should move on from this moment of weakness, but instead he lay there, panting and disgraced, the image of you still etched into his mind's eye. the quiet of the night was now a taunting silence, a reminder that he was alone in his depravity.

you awoke to the soft murmur of the morning light filtering through the curtains, its gentle embrace coaxing you from the depths of sleep. as you stretched languidly, you felt a sense of calm that made you smile. rising from your bed, you ribbed your eyes and padded softly down the stairs. the house was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic ticking of a distant clock. it was a serene morning, perfect for easing into the day.

when you reached the kitchen, yoongi was already there, sitting at the table with a distracted air. his posture was rigid, and there was a certain tension in his demeanor that you couldn’t quite place. the moment you entered the room, his eyes flickered up toward you briefly before darting away. despite his efforts to look elsewhere, his gaze betrayed him, lingering far too long on your bare legs, which were still exposed, to his dismay. “good morning,” you said cheerfully, trying to set a light tone for the day. your voice was like a splash of warmth in the chilly air of the kitchen.

yoongi’s response was almost a whisper, a bare acknowledgment of your greeting. “morning.” you moved toward the coffee maker, the comforting routine of preparing breakfast a welcome distraction. “you want some coffee?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “yeah, that’d be great,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude, though it was laced with an awkwardness that made you wonder about his mood.

as you busied yourself with the coffee, you noticed the kitchen was unusually empty. your parents were absent, a fact that piqued your curiosity. “where are my parents?” you inquired, your voice carrying a note of concern. yoongi shifted slightly, as if the question had pulled him from his own thoughts. “they’re out for the day,” he said, his gaze now firmly fixed on the table, avoiding meeting your eyes.

you nodded, accepting his answer without further question. the rhythmic sound of the coffee machine filled the silence as you went about your task. when you reached for the sugar, you bent over to retrieve it from the cabinet. the movement was casual, a natural part of your routine, but you were acutely aware of yoongi’s intense gaze. the breath caught in his throat was audible, a sharp intake of air that seemed to punctuate the otherwise silent kitchen. he watched the way your shirt rose, faltering just above your hips, giving him a view of your thighs pressed together, ass hanging in the air with nothing but a pair of stupidly red panties adorning your skin.

it struck you then that yoongi’s reaction was more than mere surprise. it was as if he was struggling to maintain composure, as though he thought you were doing this deliberately to tease him. but you weren’t aware of any such intent; it was simply the way you moved. you straightened up with the sugar and continued preparing the coffee. when you finally handed him his cup, his eyes met yours for a fleeting moment. despite the lack of makeup, you felt a surge of confidence in his presence. his eyes softened, and there was a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at his lips as he took the cup from you.

he cleared his throat, his voice tentative as he ventured into a new topic. “so, i’ve been meaning to ask about your writing. you seemed hesitant to talk about it last night.” you chuckled softly, the sound light and airy. “my writing is a product of all my worst parts,” you said with a shrug, attempting to downplay its significance.

yoongi’s eyebrows knitted together, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i don’t believe you have any bad parts,” he said earnestly, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the truth. you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “you’d be surprised,” you replied. “there are things that even the closest people don’t see.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease. you felt a familiar sense of safety in his presence, as if no time had passed since the days when you had felt so secure in his company. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the casual conversation, made you feel as though the world outside had paused just for the two of you.

you prepared for a day by the pool with a casual elegance, slipping into a bikini that showcased your figure with a subtle confidence. over it, you draped a sheer cover—a delicate, airy jacket that fluttered with every movement, its only purpose to add a touch of grace rather than offer any real coverage. the fabric was almost ethereal, catching the sunlight with each step you took, giving you an otherworldly aura.

descending the stairs, you made your way back to the living room, where you spotted yoongi. the moment you entered his line of sight, he looked up, and the breath caught in his throat. his eyes widened, a visible shift in his demeanor as he took in the sight of you. his heart seemed to drop, overwhelmed by the sight of you in your swimwear, the sheer cover highlighting your figure in a way that was both mesmerizing and painfully distracting.

with a cheerful smile, you called out to him, “hey, i’m gonna be by the pool. if you need anything, i’ll be around.” he nodded, his response barely audible, as if his mind was struggling to catch up with the reality of the moment. there was a heavy silence between you, filled with unspoken tension, as you turned and made your way outside.

once by the pool, you settled into a lounge chair, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun envelop you. the heat should have been palpable, but your thoughts were consumed by yoongi. the sun’s rays might have been intense, but they barely registered in your consciousness compared to the whirlwind of thoughts about him. your mind drifted, replaying moments with him, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you.

the quiet of the morning was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. you turned your head, squinting against the sunlight to see yoongi emerging from the house. he was shirtless, the warmth of the sun glistening off his skin. in each hand, he carried a glass—one for him and one for you. you couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of him, the way his physique was revealed in the sunlight adding a new layer of intensity to your already tangled feelings.

he reached you and offered one of the glasses with a slight, nervous smile. “i brought you something to drink. vodka lemonade.” you accepted the glass with a grateful smile, the cool drink a welcome relief from the heat. “thank you,” you said, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste.

he sat down beside you, his own drink in hand. there was a hesitant chuckle in his voice as he remarked, “i can’t believe i’m watching you drink. it’s kind of surreal.” you laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “i’m not a little girl anymore,” you said, glancing at him with a playful glint in your eye. “can you believe it?”

yoongi’s laughter was nervous, a strained attempt at casualness. “yeah, i can,” he replied, though the lie was almost tangible in the way he avoided your gaze. oh, if only you had known just how deeply his words conflicted with his inner reality. the poolside atmosphere was serene, the gentle ripples of the water reflecting the sunlight and adding a soothing background to your conversation. you sipped your drink, feeling the cool liquid contrast pleasantly with the warmth of the sun on your skin. yoongi sat close beside you, the space between you charged with an undercurrent of unresolved tension.

the heat of the sun was almost unbearable, and you found yourself shifting restlessly on the lounge chair. the coolness of the vodka lemonade was not enough to quell the growing discomfort you felt. it wasn’t merely the oppressive heat that was troubling you; there was an unsettling awareness that you had developed feelings for yoongi, and it was all too complicated. you knew it was wrong, knew you shouldn’t feel this way, but the truth was undeniable.

rising from the lounge chair, you decided to seek refuge in the kitchen. the cool interior of the house was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. you carried both glasses with you, their contents now barely touching the bottom of the tumblers. as you walked through the house, you could feel the tension in your steps, an eagerness to escape your own thoughts and the weight of your emotions.

once in the kitchen, you set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle of vodka and the jug of lemonade. the motion of pouring the vodka into the lemonade, the swirl of the liquid mixing together, was almost meditative. yet, the comfort of the routine did little to ease the restlessness simmering within you. in an effort to cool off, you discarded your sheer cover, letting it fall onto a nearby chair. the fabric slid off your shoulders and pooled on the seat, leaving you in your bikini once more.

the heat of the kitchen seemed to intensify as you stirred the drink, but it wasn't just the temperature that was making you sweat. you were grappling with the undeniable reality that you had feelings for yoongi—feelings that were supposed to be off-limits. the conflict inside you was almost as unbearable as the heat itself. he was quite literally your father's best friend, you had to keep repeating that to yourself, praying for some sort of voice of reason.

just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps alerted you to yoongi’s presence. you turned to find him standing at the kitchen entrance, his eyes fixed on you. for a moment, time seemed to freeze. your heart leaped in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that had been swirling within you. you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “are you okay?” you asked, the words slipping out with a hint of vulnerability.

his gaze was intense, almost pained as he took a step closer. he shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “how can i be okay?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “with you like this around me, for the next month?” the words hung between you, charged with a tension that neither of you seemed able to escape. Your heart pounded as you processed the implication of his statement. it was clear now—he was feeling the same struggle, the same undeniable pull that you were.

you pressed your lips together, trying to find the right words. “i can’t handle it either,” you admitted quietly, the weight of your own confession settling over you. “but it feels so wrong.” to your surprise, yoongi closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. his hands reached out, gripping your waist with a firmness that was both reassuring and electrifying. his gaze was locked onto yours, filled with a blend of longing and resolve.

without another word, he pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was sudden, a powerful surge of emotion that seemed to silence every other thought in your mind. his touch was both demanding and tender, his lips moving with a desperate intensity that spoke volumes. when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours with an almost anxious urgency. “does it still feel wrong?” he asked, his voice a low, husky murmur.

the question hung in the air, and without thinking, you responded by closing the space between you again. you pressed your lips against his, this time with a fierceness that matched the tumult of your feelings. the kiss was fervent, each movement a declaration of the emotions that had been kept in check for far too long.

his hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body, lingering on your breasts. the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin made you gasp into his mouth. yoongi took advantage of the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. you could feel the hunger in his touch, the need that mirrored your own.

his thumbs grazed your nipples, eliciting a moan from your throat. the sound seemed to drive him wild, and his touch grew more insistent. he pinched and rolled your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. your pussy grew wetter with each touch, and you found yourself grinding against his thigh, seeking relief from the growing ache.

his hands slid down to your waist, then under the fabric of your bikini bottom. with a swift motion, he pulled it aside, exposing your wet, eager pussy to the cool kitchen air. the contrast made you shiver, and you felt his cock harden against your stomach. the reality of what was happening was overwhelming, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the feel of his hands on you, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

you broke the kiss, panting. “right here?” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. yoongi nodded, his eyes dark with lust. “right here, right now,” he confirmed, his voice a gruff whisper. he stepped back, guiding you towards the kitchen counter. “i need to taste you,” he said, his gaze dropping to your pussy.

his words sent a thrill through you, and you eagerly climbed onto the counter. your legs parted, and he stepped between them, his eyes feasting on the sight before him. you watched as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. then, his tongue touched you. the sensation was exquisite, sending shockwaves through your body. you grabbed onto the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you held on for dear life.

his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and probing, as his fingers delved deeper into your pussy. you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening in anticipation. the air was thick with the scent of your arousal, and your moans filled the kitchen. it was all so wrong, but it felt so incredibly right.

his eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire to claim you in every way possible. without a second thought, you leaned back, exposing your throat. “choke me,” you begged, the words slipping out on a breathless whisper. yoongi’s eyes flared with surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. his hand wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel both safe and utterly vulnerable.

his mouth returned to your pussy, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. the feeling of his hand on your throat, the way he controlled your breathing, was intoxicating. your orgasm built, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over you. and when it finally hit, it was like nothing you had ever felt before—intense, all-consuming, and absolutely filthy.

his mouth remained on you, even as you gasped for air, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. “you gonna help me out, too?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “gonna suck my cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do?”

you slid off the counter, your legs wobbly from the intensity of your climax. dropping to your knees, you looked up at him, his cock standing proud and hard before you. without hesitation, you took him in your mouth, the taste of your juices mingling with the salty tang of his skin. his hand found its way to the back of your head, guiding you deeper. “fuck, princess, just like that,” he hissed, his grip tightening. you could feel his cock thicken in your mouth, and the power of the moment was exhilarating. you sucked and licked, eager to please him, to show him how much you wanted this.

his hips began to rock, fucking your mouth with an increasing urgency, his head embracing the back of your throat. you didn't care, you had all the reasons in the world to stop and set boundaries, but even more not too. he pulled at your hair, grunting with his heavy cock splitting your throat open. he looked down at you, your teary eyes and puffy lips, and it only made it worse for him, his cock throbbing in your mouth, but he couldn't cum like that. he needed to feel you, to tear you apart, to ensure that you'd never look for that kind of control from any other boy. nobody but him, he was the perfect pick. you needed somebody just a little bit older.

his cock slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop, and before you could even gasp for air, he turned you around, pressing you against the counter. his hand found its way into your bikini again, two thick fingers plunging into your pussy. you felt yourself stretch around him, your body begging for more. “you're soaked,” he murmured, his voice filled with a dark kind of glee. “you're gonna be the death of me.” you pushed back against his hand, wanting him to go deeper, to fill the ache that had only been heightened by his touch. “please,” you moaned, the word barely coherent as it slipped from your lips. “i need you.”

yoongi stepped closer, his body pressing against your back. “you're gonna get me,” he promised, his voice gruff with desire. he removed his fingers and lined up his cock, pressing the head against your entrance. he hadn't even pushed past your sopping folds yet, and you were already a mess. you felt him enter you, inch by inch, stretching you out. it was painful and perfect all at once, his girth splitting you open, filling you up in a way that made you feel so full, so alive. you bit your lip to stifle a scream as he pushed deeper, until he was fully seated inside you. your pussy clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to never let him go.

his hand returned to your throat, squeezing gently as he began to move. the counter was cold against your stomach, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was the way he filled you, the way his cock slammed into you with each powerful thrust. his other hand snaked around your body, playing with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

his grip tightened on your throat, cutting off your air. you felt the panic rise, but it only made you wetter. “you like that, don't you?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you like being choked while i fuck you?” your eyes rolled back in your head, and you nodded frantically. it was sick, it was twisted, but you didn't care. it felt too good to think about stopping.

his strokes grew faster, more erratic, his breathing ragged in your ear. “i'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. “where do you want it?” you choked out the words, “inside me,” and he growled his approval. with one final, powerful thrust, he released his grip on your throat, and you felt his warmth flood into you. your body convulsed around him, your own orgasm ripping through you with a ferocity that left you trembling.

his cock remained buried inside you as he leaned over, pressing his sweat-slicked chest against your back. “all mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “mine to fuck, to fill up with my cum.” your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop he had to give. the thought of his cum inside you, claiming you, made your core throb with a deep, primal need.

his cock slid out of you, and you felt the emptiness acutely. but before you could protest, he was pushing his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth. “have a taste,” he demanded, and you eagerly complied. the taste was salty and bitter, but it only served to drive you wild. your eyes watered as you sucked on his digits, cleaning them thoroughly.

he pulled away, his fingers tugging your bikini bottom up, the fabric pushing his sticky cum further into your sore cunt. “keep it in,” he ordered, his eyes dark and possessive. “i don't want my cum to spill out of that tight little cunt.” you nodded, standing on shaky legs. he reached out, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to his. “good girl,” he praised, his eyes searching yours.

you stepped away from the counter, the stickiness between your legs a constant reminder of what had just happened. your bikini was askew, and your body was still flushed with arousal. yoongi reached out, gently adjusting your bottoms to cover your swollen pussy. “don't tell anyone,” he whispered, his eyes serious. “this is our little secret.” you nodded, your throat tight with the promise of more to come. the air was thick with the scent of sex, and the kitchen felt different now—like a sacred space where you had both lost and found something in the heat of passion. “i won't,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “but what happens now?”

yoongi leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “now,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “we do this again, and again. until we can't get enough of each other.” his hand slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it possessively. “you're mine, and i have no intention of letting you go.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and fear. you knew this was wrong, knew that it could ruin everything, but the feeling of his cum inside you, his claim on your body, was too tempting to resist. you were in too deep, and you had no intention of climbing out

the hours stretched interminably, the passage of time marked only by the shifting light that filtered through the windows. you found yourself drifting between contemplation and restlessness, your thoughts endlessly circling the intimacy you had shared with yoongi. the weight of the moment, the raw intensity of the sex, seemed to press down on you with an almost unbearable gravity.

you had retreated to your room, seeking solace in its familiar confines. the bed, once a place of comfort, now felt like a vessel of confusion and regret. you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the room around you bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. your mind was a turbulent sea, tossing around memories of the kiss, the touch of his hands on your waist, and the conflicted look in his eyes. the sex, though fleeting, had been a revelation, an unspoken admission of what lay between you, and the enormity of it was daunting.

every time you closed your eyes, his face would appear, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing and anguish. the guilt that gnawed at you was mirrored by his own struggle. you had noticed it earlier when he had walked away from the kitchen, his shoulders slumped and his expression a portrait of internal conflict. it was clear that he was grappling with the same turmoil that had taken root within you.

the silence of the room was occasionally broken by the vibrations of your phone. the pings were a jarring intrusion into your contemplation, each one a reminder of the world outside your cocoon of worry. finally, when you reached for your phone, you found a message from taehyung, a friend whose exuberance was a contrast to the somber mood you were engulfed in. it read, “hey! i heard you’re back in daegu. i’m at the club tonight, and it’s been a while. you should come out and join me.”

the simplicity of taehyung’s invitation, the promise of an evening away from your internal strife, was like a breath of fresh air. it was exactly what you needed to escape the relentless spiral of guilt and self-reproach that had been consuming you. the thought of a night at the club, surrounded by friends and lost in the rhythm of music, was a welcome distraction, a way to momentarily forget the weight of your decisions and the confusion surrounding your feelings for yoongi.

without hesitation, you texted him back, accepting his invitation with a mix of relief and eagerness. the prospect of spending a night out, dancing and socializing, offered a tangible remedy to the unease that had settled so heavily upon you. in the privacy of your room, you stood in front of the mirror, preparing for a night out at the club. you had carefully chosen an outfit that was both stylish and expressive of your current mood—a sleek, black dress with a daring neckline that accentuated your figure, paired with heels that added just the right amount of allure. the dress clung to your curves in a way that felt both confident and liberating, each movement highlighting the grace you carried with you.

you applied your makeup with a meticulous touch, opting for a smoky eye that added a touch of glamour, and a bold lip color that completed the look. each brushstroke was a deliberate effort to transform yourself into someone who could temporarily escape the heaviness of recent days. the final touch was a pair of sparkling earrings that caught the light as you moved, completing your ensemble with a flourish.

as you finished getting ready, you heard the faint sounds of yoongi moving about in his room across the hall. you knew he was there, but the emotional weight of your recent interactions had kept you from directly addressing him. yonight was about reclaiming a sense of normalcy and fun, and the club seemed like the perfect escape. as you prepared to leave, you crossed the hall to grab a quick look at your reflection in the full-length mirror one last time. just as you turned, yoongi’s door opened slightly. he stepped into the hallway, his eyes widening in surprise as they took in the sight of you.

“where are you off to?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity mingled with an undertone of something else—something darker. you flashed him a bright, carefree smile, trying to inject a sense of lightness into the conversation. “taehyung is taking me to a club tonight,” you said, your voice cheerful despite the undercurrent of unease you felt.

his reaction was immediate. a flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a strained smile. “okay,” he replied, his voice barely concealing the tension that simmered beneath his words. “have a good time.” you nodded, feeling a pang of guilt at his subdued reaction, but the promise of a night out with friends was too alluring to ignore. you offered a final smile before turning and walking down the stairs, the click of your heels echoing in the quiet house.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a refreshing contrast to the warm interior. taehyung was waiting by his car, his face lighting up with a friendly grin as he saw you approach. he stepped out of the vehicle, and the two of you exchanged a warm hug. his arms encircled you in a friendly embrace, his laughter ringing out as he playfully commented on how good you looked.

from the window, yoongi watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. he saw the way taehyung looked at you, the way his eyes lingered on you with an admiration that seemed to cut through the night’s darkness. the casual familiarity of your hug, the easy way taehyung interacted with you, ignited a smoldering frustration within yoongi. he clenched his fists, trying to suppress the bubbling anger that rose within him. it wasn’t just the sight of you with someone else—it was the way taehyung’s gaze seemed to hold a mixture of affection and possessiveness that yoongi found almost unbearable. every movement, every gesture, seemed to etch itself into his memory with a burning intensity.

as you and taehyung got into the car and drove away, yoongi’s eyes remained fixed on the scene. the darkness of the night and the dim streetlights cast long shadows, but his thoughts were sharp and clear. the image of taehyung’s hug, the warmth and ease between the two of you, was seared into his mind, adding fuel to the smoldering frustration that had taken root within him.

the club was a pulsating whirl of neon lights and thumping bass, the energy of the crowd vibrating through the floor and into your very bones. the air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume and sweat, and the faint haze of smoke from the fog machines created an almost dreamlike atmosphere. music reverberated through every corner, a relentless beat that drove the rhythm of the night.

you and taehyung arrived to a warm welcome from the crowd, who greeted you with a mix of admiration and excitement. the club’s patrons had clearly heard of your return to daegu, and you were immediately swept up in the buzz of their enthusiasm. as you made your way through the throng of bodies, taehyung by your side, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of flashing lights and lively chatter.

at the bar, you signed another autograph, your signature fluid and practiced as you scrawled your name on a series of glossy photos and memorabilia. taehyung stood beside you, his laughter a comforting sound amid the chaos. “i’ll never get used to this,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. his eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. you chuckled softly, the sound almost lost amidst the cacophony of the club. “neither will i,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. the constant attention, the flashes of cameras, it all felt a bit surreal, a reminder of the world you had momentarily stepped away from.

his expression softened as he glanced at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. “why so down?” he asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive. you hesitated for a moment, the weight of your recent experiences heavy on your shoulders. “it’s a long story,” you replied, not willing to delve into the complexities of your emotions right now.

his eyes showed a glimmer of understanding, and he didn’t press further. instead, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “well, don’t let it ruin tonight. you’re here to have fun, remember? just let go and enjoy yourself for once.” his encouragement was a lifeline, and you took it to heart. you smiled at him, gratitude mingling with the resolve to let the night’s energy lift you from your thoughts. “okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “let’s do this.”

the two of you moved towards the dance floor, the pulsating rhythm of the music beckoning you closer. as you stepped onto the floor, the crowd seemed to part and then close around you, a living sea of people moving in sync with the beat. he slipped into the rhythm effortlessly, his movements fluid and confident. you followed his lead, allowing the music to wash over you and carry away the remnants of your lingering worries.

the lights above shifted in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting dynamic patterns across the dance floor. you lost yourself in the beat, your body swaying and twisting in time with the music. the beats were relentless, and as you danced, you felt the strain of the day’s emotions slowly dissolve, replaced by the exhilaration of the moment. the music seemed to resonate with something deep inside you, a reminder of the joy and freedom that had once been so familiar.

you occasionally glanced at taehyung, who was clearly having a blast. his infectious energy was a bright spot in the evening, and his carefree dancing seemed to pull you further into the night’s festivities. every now and then, he would catch your eye and flash a grin, as if to say, “see? isn’t this fun?”

as the night wore on, you took a break from dancing to grab a drink. the bar was bustling with activity, and the bartender quickly mixed a vibrant cocktail that was both refreshing and potent. you sipped the drink, feeling its coolness slide down your throat, and let the alcohol take the edge off your remaining anxieties. the conversation around you was a pleasant hum, and you found yourself engaging in light, cheerful banter with a few fellow partygoers.

every once in a while, you would catch sight of taehyung making his way through the crowd, often surrounded by a small group of admirers. his laughter and charisma were magnetic, drawing people in and creating an atmosphere of shared joy. you were grateful for his presence, his ability to make the night feel lighter and more enjoyable.

the night continued in a blur of music, dancing, and shared moments of joy. you felt a renewed sense of connection with taehyung and the people around you, a reminder that even amidst personal turmoil, there was still space for fun and camaraderie. as the hours passed and the club’s lights began to dim, signaling the approach of closing time, you felt a sense of contentment.

stepping outside into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, savoring the contrast between the heated club and the refreshing outside air. he stood beside you, his expression one of satisfaction and camaraderie. “see? that wasn’t so bad,” he said, nudging you playfully. you smiled, feeling a genuine sense of relief. “thanks for getting me out tonight,” you said. “i needed this.”

his grin widened. “anytime. let’s just make sure you don’t stay cooped up forever. there’s a lot more fun to be had.” as you both made your way to the car, the night felt lighter, and the burdens of the past few days seemed a little more manageable. the club had provided the distraction you needed, and as you drove away with taehyung, you allowed yourself to savor the fleeting moments of carefree joy that the night had offered.

in the stillness of the living room, the ticking of the clock seemed to echo louder with each passing second. yoongi sat slouched on the sofa, the dim light from the table lamp casting shadows across his face. his fingers fumbled with a can of beer, the metallic crumple of the empty container a testament to his mounting frustration. it was two in the morning, and you still hadn't come home. the silence of the house was oppressive, amplifying his anxiety and gnawing at his thoughts.

had something happened to you? had a stranger taken you for the night? the possibilities raced through his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. the quietness of the house was occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of the refrigerator or the soft rustle of the curtains, but these sounds did little to soothe his growing unease.

he watched the second hand of the clock tick away, each movement a reminder of the time slipping by. his fingers drummed impatiently against his knee, and the empty beer cans scattered on the table beside him were a reminder of how long he’d been waiting. the weight of his concern grew heavier with each passing minute, turning into an almost unbearable pressure.

finally, a sound broke through the silence—the unmistakable click of the front door opening. yoongi’s head snapped up, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and frustration. he watched as you stumbled into the living room, your movements unsteady and your eyes slightly glazed. the sight of you brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger.

you wobbled slightly as you approached him, your gaze softening as you took in his presence. with a tired but genuine smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. “i missed you,” you murmured, your voice thick with the effects of too many martinis. he let out a low chuckle, his amusement tinged with exasperation. “you smell like alcohol,” he observed, his tone more resigned than accusatory.

you frowned slightly and gestured towards the table where the empty beer cans lay. “and you’re no better,” you retorted, a playful edge to your words despite your unsteady stance. he raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “what were you doing at the club for so long?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

you shrugged, your arms still draped around his neck. “having fun,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your voice. he scoffed, a small smile playing on his lips. “with who?” he demanded, his tone edged with a hint of jealousy.

you grinned, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “with taehyung,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue with an affectionate lilt. his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. to your surprise, he reached out and gently lifted you up, placing you onto his lap. the movement was deliberate, his hold firm but gentle as he settled you comfortably. “with taehyung, huh?” he said, his voice low and contemplative as he looked at you.

you nodded shyly, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. “yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his gaze lingered on you, a conflicted mix of emotions evident in his eyes. “you two must be pretty close, huh?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of possessiveness.

you nodded again, feeling the intensity of his stare. “we’re friends,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering effects of the alcohol. his eyes darkened slightly, his frustration evident. “i don’t like that,” he said, his tone firm and resolute.

you tilted your head slightly, leaning into his touch as you pressed closer to him. “why not?” you asked, your voice soft and inquisitive. his hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing gently against your skin. “friends who look at you the way he does,” he said, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. he paused, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued, “make my blood boil.”

your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with the softness of his lips. the sensation was intoxicating, drawing you closer to him. without further hesitation, yoongi closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. the kiss was both urgent and tender, a mixture of the longing and frustration that had been building between you. his arms encircled you, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away.

the kiss deepened, his fingers tangling in your hair as he explored the softness of your lips. it was a moment of pure connection, a release of the emotions that had been pent up for too long. the intensity of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, made you feel as though nothing else mattered in that moment.

his hand slid down to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you onto his lap. the fabric of your black dress was thin, offering little resistance to his touch. you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, a silent declaration of his desire. your breath hitched in your throat as his hand moved higher, cupping your breast through the material. your nipples were already hard, begging for his attention.

without breaking the kiss, yoongi reached down and began to tug at the hem of your dress. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he pulled it up over your head, leaving you in just your lacy black lingerie. the sight of you half-dressed was almost too much for him to handle. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the lace of your panties. as he pulled them down, he caught a glimpse of the cum stain from earlier, a pleasant reminder of what he had done. his eyes flashed with possessive lust as he took in the sight of his dry cum on the fabric. “took it like such a good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

his hands found your hips, guiding you onto his waiting erection. the sensation of skin on skin was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. he was rougher this time, his movements urgent and demanding. with each thrust, he slapped your pussy, the sound echoing in the quiet room. the stinging sensation only served to heighten your arousal, making you moan louder with each hit.

his hands gripped your waist, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you riding him like a wave. the feeling of his cock filling you up was almost too much to bear, but you craved more. your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons in his skin as you leaned back, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

his dirty talk grew more intense, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. “don’t wanna see you with anymore boys,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “they won’t ever get to have you like this.” the words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, your walls tightening around him as you neared climax. his strokes grew more erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he approached his own release. you could feel him swelling inside you, his muscles tensing as he fought to hold back. but you were beyond caring about his control, your own need overwhelming any thought of restraint.

he took sight of the way his cock buried itself in your stomach, the outline evident. it was enoufh to make his dick twitch, he could practically see it happening. finally, with a guttural groan, he let go, filling you with his hot cum. the sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. tears streamed down your face, not from pain, but from the intensity of the pleasure that consumed you. as you collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air, you realized that this was the most alive you had ever felt.

“we need to stop doing this,” you exhaled softly, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. “stop?” he echoed, his voice gruff and surprised.

“it’s complicated enough already,” you murmured, your heart racing from the aftershocks of your climax. his grip on your waist tightened, his cock still pulsing inside you. “i don’t want us to stop,” he said, his voice unyielding. “is it such a crime to want you all to myself?”

his words sent a thrill through you, but also a pang of fear. you knew the consequences of your actions, the web of lies and deceit that would unravel if anyone found out. yet, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the way he made you feel alive and desired in a way no one else ever had. you pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the present, the warmth of his embrace, the scent of your mingled arousal, and the sticky mess between your legs. it was a mess you didn’t want to clean up, a mess that was a testament to your shared passion.

his hands began to move again, stroking your body with a gentle fierceness that made your skin tingle. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you ache for more. his fingers traced the path of his earlier possession, the cum stain on your panties now a wet smear as he slid his digits through it.

you gasped as he brought his hand up to your face, your own cum glistening on his fingers. before you could protest, he brought them to your mouth and slid them in, urging you to taste. the sweet and salty flavor filled your mouth, and you felt a wave of submission wash over you. his other hand found your clit, his thumb flicking and circling the sensitive nub as he began to thrust into you once more. his cock was still hard, the friction of his earlier release only adding to the intensity of the moment.

you couldn’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave in to the sensations. the room spun around you, your body no longer your own as he claimed you over and over again. it was a rough, animalistic fucking that made you feel more alive than you ever had. his slaps grew more forceful, his words more demanding. “say it,” he ordered, his voice harsh in your ear. “say you’re mine, only mine.”

“yoongi,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m yours, only yours.” his pace quickened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his second climax. you could feel his balls tightening, his body coiling like a spring ready to release. with a final, desperate groan, he emptied himself inside you, his cum mixing with your juices.

you collapsed onto him a second time, your body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. the room was still, the only sound the harshness of your breathing and the thundering of your hearts. for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in a sea of passion and desire. but reality would come crashing back soon enough, with the light of day and the harsh truth of your actions. for now, though, you were his, and he was yours, bound by a secret that neither of you could escape.

you sat at your desk, the dim light of your lamp casting a soft glow over the pages of your journal. the room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the pages as you turned them, the only sound breaking the silence of your introspective evening. the journal was your refuge, the place where you poured out your grief and unspoken pain, each word a release of the emotions that had been bottled up for too long.

your pen moved across the page in a hurried scrawl, the ink reflecting the depth of your sorrow. you wrote about the ache of missing your old self, the pressure of expectations unmet, and the weight of a future that seemed increasingly uncertain. tears blurred your vision, making the words on the page dance and waver. each tear that fell onto the paper seemed to absorb the rawness of your emotions, the ink smudging as your sorrow seeped into the pages.

you had shared so much with those sheets of paper, details of your grief that had remained unspoken. it was as if the journal was an extension of your heart, a place where your deepest fears and frustrations could find solace. but tonight, the act of writing felt especially cathartic and painful, the tears falling freely as you bared your soul to the empty pages.

the sound of footsteps from downstairs interrupted your solitude. you closed the journal and wiped your eyes hastily, trying to regain composure as you headed towards the staircase. the air downstairs was cooler, and the distant clinking of dishes and murmurs of conversation signaled that your mother was awake.

as you descended the stairs, you saw her seated at the kitchen table, her gaze directed towards the window. yoongi was in the living room, his presence a silent comfort in the midst of the familial tension. you greeted them quietly, your heart heavy with the emotions that you had tried so hard to contain. your mother looked up as you entered the kitchen, her expression unreadable. “how’s work?” she asked, her tone neutral but carrying a hint of concern. “when do you have to go back?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “i’ll be going back after the month passes,” you replied, forcing a calmness that didn’t match the turmoil inside you. she nodded, but there was a shadow of disapproval in her eyes. “i prayed for your success, you know,” she said. “but i wish you had chosen a different path—one that’s more respectable. you could have been a doctor, a lawyer, someone who makes a real difference. instead, you’re just posing for a camera.”

the words struck you like a physical blow, each syllable a reminder of the gap between your aspirations and her expectations. your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, your heart aching with the weight of her judgment. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the apology feeling inadequate in the face of her disapproval. her gaze softened slightly, but the damage was done. the conversation had laid bare the fact that no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you achieved, your mother’s acceptance was always just out of reach. the realization was a sharp, stinging reminder of the ongoing struggle to reconcile your dreams with her expectations.

without a word, you excused yourself from the room, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on your shoulders. you moved with a sense of urgency towards the bathroom, needing a moment away from the prying eyes and the crushing disappointment. in the bathroom, the cool, sterile light offered little comfort as you shut the door behind you. you leaned against the sink, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the tap, letting the water run until it became a soothing backdrop to your tears. the tears came freely now, each drop a release of the pain you had been holding inside. the harsh brightness of the bathroom seemed to amplify your emotions, every sob echoing in the stillness of the room.

you closed your eyes tightly, letting the tears flow unabated. the mirror reflected your tear-streaked face, the red-rimmed eyes a testament to the depth of your grief. you took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had been stirred up by your mother’s words. the tears were a release, a way of letting go of the pent-up frustration and sadness. as the sobs began to subside, you found solace in the simple act of crying, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your mother’s disapproval and the grief of your own unmet expectations. you knew that the moment of vulnerability was a necessary part of your healing process, a way to confront and process the emotions that had been building up inside you.

yoongi's heart felt heavy with the weight of the earlier conversation. his concern for you had deepened, and he felt an overwhelming urge to understand more about what you were going through. his feet, driven by a mix of worry and compassion, carried him towards your room. the door creaked open slowly, and yoongi stepped into the space that was so intimately yours. the room was bathed in a soft glow from a lamp on your nightstand, its light gently illuminating the walls adorned with photographs. his eyes were immediately drawn to the collection of images, a testament to the life you had lived.

photos of you as a little girl lined one wall, capturing moments of innocence and joy. in some, you were caught in candid laughter, a radiant smile lighting up your face. others showed you at milestones, each image a snapshot of a time before the complexities of adulthood began to weigh heavily on you. yoongi’s chest tightened at the sight, a pang of sorrow stirring in his stomach. it was impossible not to feel the ache of how much you had grown, how far you had come from that wide-eyed child full of dreams.

next to those nostalgic images were more recent photos—of you as you were now, your beauty more striking than ever, yet layered with an undeniable sadness. each photograph seemed to tell a story of its own, a reflection of the woman you had become. his heart ached at the contrast between the vibrant child in the old pictures and the poignant figure in the more recent ones. it was clear that beneath the surface of your radiant exterior lay a deep, unresolved pain.

his gaze was drawn to the desk, where he saw your journal resting atop a pile of neatly stacked papers. he hesitated for a moment, knowing it was a violation of your privacy, but the pull of his concern was stronger. with trembling hands, he opened the journal, its pages warm from the gentle light of the lamp.

the first entry his eyes fell upon was a stark revelation of your inner turmoil, “i want to die, doesn’t everyone?” the words were raw and haunting, a glimpse into the depths of your suffering. yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he read on, his heart breaking with each line. you had written about sleepless nights, about the emptiness that came with a lack of meals, and the guilt you felt for your suffering despite having what many would envy. the words were a vivid portrait of your struggle, painting a picture of the pain you had carried alone.

further along, you wrote about your mother, your conflicted feelings towards her. despite her love, you had felt her disapproval, her preference for a different path for you. the way you described your feelings of inadequacy, the yearning for acceptance, cut deep into yoongi’s heart. each entry was a window into a world of quiet desperation, a reflection of your most private fears and regrets.

as his eyes scanned the entries, he felt a profound sadness. the weight of your words, the anguish you had poured onto the pages, seemed to press down on him with a crushing force. he was lost in the depth of your pain when he heard the softest of voices behind him. “it’s stupid, isn’t it?” he turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, a sad smile on your face, the remnants of tears still visible on your cheeks. his heart ached even more seeing you like that, so vulnerable and exposed. he took a step towards you, his face reflecting a mix of anguish and determination.

“nothing you feel could ever be stupid,” he said gently, his voice laden with sincerity. his hand reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “why didn’t you tell me about this? why didn’t you share any of this with me?” you shrugged, your gaze falling to the floor as if it held the answers you couldn’t articulate. “i always had a feeling i’d never live long,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

yoongi’s breath caught at your words. the notion that you felt such a finality in your existence was more than he could bear. without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug was a physical manifestation of his anguish and his need to offer you comfort. he stiffened as he held you, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. “never say that again,” he whispered fiercely into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “is that really what you want? to leave me alone, to fight it all in silence?”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “i’d give anything to be the little girl you remember,” you admitted between sobs. “i miss her more than anyone.”

his heart broke at your admission. he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own filled with an earnest intensity. “you should be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him. “that little girl would be so proud of you. and no one could be more proud than i am.”

you looked at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity, but all you found was a deep, unwavering conviction. “you really think so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “yes,” he affirmed, his eyes locked onto yours with a warmth that seemed to dispel the shadows of doubt. “she would be proud, but nobody could be as proud as me. you’ve grown into someone incredible, someone who has faced so much and still stands strong.”

in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a sense of comfort and acceptance that had been elusive for so long. his words, filled with genuine admiration and affection, offered a glimmer of hope amid the lingering darkness. you clung to the promise in his voice, the promise that despite everything, you were valued, you were loved, and you were worthy of pride.

✧.*

a/n: a shorter one lol a dabble if u will

BONES & ALL (본즈 앤 올) (DRABBLE)

✧.* 16+

it was raw. not in the way you snacked on maraschino cherries under the sunlight in rome, not in the way the sweetness lingered on your tongue, dripping with a saccharine aftertaste that reminded you of summer. no, this was different—primal, almost. it was a love that bared its teeth, stripped of pretense, of pleasantries, and of the gentle touches that polite society deemed proper. it demanded everything and gave in return, not in delicate whispers or soft kisses, but in the pounding of your heart that seemed to echo in your very bones.

it wasn’t just the physical that made this love different. it was the connection that ran deeper than words, deeper than thought. in the silence, when the world around you fell away, you could feel—every hope, every fear, every dark corner of his soul he had kept hidden from the rest of the world. and you knew, in that silence, that you were the only one who could ever truly understand him. it was a love that was terrifying in its intensity, but you welcomed it. you welcomed the way it tore through you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, because it also made you feel more alive than you had ever been. you wanted to bask in it, to let it consume you until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled together in a world of your own making. this love was not pretty; it was not sweet or delicate. it was raw.

“i can’t do it,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. the tears had come without warning, slipping down your cheeks as if they’d been waiting for this very moment, mingling with the metallic scent of blood that hung in the air, thick and intoxicating. it wasn’t a stench—not to you, not now. it was a need, a desperate, consuming need that gnawed at the edges of your sanity, twisting your insides with a sickening blend of hunger and revulsion.

you hated yourself for it. hated the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips, seeking out that taste you shouldn’t crave, that bitter tang that made your head swim and your heart race. but it was there, undeniable, just as yoongi was there, his presence overwhelming, consuming. he was smiling, though it was a fragile thing, a ghost of the smirks you’d come to know so well. his eyes, however, betrayed him—heavy with sorrow, thick with tears that he refused to let fall, not now, not when he knew the end was upon him.

the angel of death had come for him, ready to collect the debt yoongi had long known he owed. and yet, as his hands—cold as death itself, as if they’d been left in the freezer to chill—came up to cradle your face, he looked at you with such tenderness, such raw, unfiltered love, that you almost believed he could still be saved. his fingers trembled slightly, brushing over your skin with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his final moments, smearing his blood across your cheeks in a macabre caress. it was a final gesture, one that held a dark, twisted irony, a taunt almost. he wanted to feel you, to mark you, to leave a piece of himself on you even as his life slipped away. more so, he wanted you to give in.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and it struck you just how beautiful he was in this moment. he had never looked better, never seemed more alive, more vulnerable. more raw. his blood, his very essence, painted across your skin—he was both the artist and the masterpiece, and you were the canvas upon which he’d chosen to leave his final mark. the thought made your heart clench, your stomach twist in knots of guilt and desire.

“you have to,” he whispered, his voice a strained rasp, the words heavy with an unspoken plea. his breath was ragged, his strength waning, yet he used the last of it to press his forehead against yours. his eyes searched yours, seeking something—maybe reassurance, maybe a promise, maybe just the comfort of knowing that you were still there, with him, even as everything else slipped away. his scent, that familiar, intoxicating scent, filled your senses, clouding your mind until all you could focus on was him—his blood, his skin, his very presence that clung to you like a second skin.

you gritted your teeth, sobbing uncontrollably, the sound raw and guttural, torn from the depths of your soul. you wanted to focus on his touch, the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his breath ghosted over your lips, but all you could think about was his scent—how it enveloped you, how it lingered in the air like a dark, forbidden perfume.

“you have to do it,” he said again, his voice cracking, betraying the emotion he’d tried so hard to keep at bay. his eyes bore into yours, pleading, desperate. “bones and all.”

it wasn’t a command—it was a wish, a dying wish that hung in the air between you like a weight too heavy to bear. he wanted you to take him, to consume him in every way possible, to make him a part of you even in death. he could go, he could let himself slip away into the darkness, knowing that the last thing he’d given you was all of him—every broken, bleeding piece.

you had him—had him this whole time, but it wasn’t enough. he wanted you to go all the way, to take him in, bones and all, until there was nothing left but the memory of him that would haunt you forever. even in death, he wanted to be yours, to be the reason your stomach churned, the reason your tears fell, the reason you felt sick to your stomach with the taste of him on your tongue, the reason you cried out in agony as you tasted the last remnants of him on your lips. being in your heart wasn’t enough, loving you wasn’t enough. you would become one.

he wouldn't fight it, no matter how much it had hurt. he wouldn't fight the way his skin tore, his wound already ran deep enough. it could run even deeper if it was for you, he knew you too well. he knew you would give in, especially for him. he would tell you tear him apart, he would let you do anything. he made you hungry. if you took his finger, he would give you his arm. to love is to consume, every bit of it. his bones would crunch under the weight of your love. it was raw. it was love. how he loved it when you held his hands with your teeth, stripping every layer of the body that was now yours. how he loved it when you kissed his teeth, instead of his lips. there would be no leftovers, nothing to be thrown out. he was yours, in every sense. his lips had always been sweet, you thought. even as they bled crimson, every drop tasted like honey on your tongue.

no matter how gently you opened him, the blood would still taint your flesh, your heart, your soul. his heart had stopped beating long ago, but it didn't matter. it didn’t need to beat to love you, to belong to you. it needed to be consumed. he was tough—tougher than you’d ever imagined, tougher than you’d ever wanted to know. the feeling of him in your mouth only confirmed the thought—he was tough. he was tougher on the outside than the inside. and yet, even now, you didn’t want to hurt him. you never had. but how could he hurt? how could he feel anything but peace, knowing that he was yours, that you had him, bones and all?

✧.*

Disguise

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I buttoned up my shirt slowly. I could see Yoongi putting on his clothes through the corner of my eyes while I picked up my pants from the floor. As I struggled to get into them, Yoongi waited patiently, not saying anything to break the awkward silence.

There was nothing left to be said. I was already someone else's. I knew it and so did he. Whatever happened tonight was all a stupid mistake. That's all.

But my heart said otherwise. It had recognized it's true owner and wanted to belong to him without terms and conditions. But being with Yoongi meant terms and conditions. A loads of it. And I wasn't ready to accept them yet.

Hence, this stupid mistake was the only way to quench the thirst of our burning souls.

I hurriedly picked up my bag from the table of the hotel room and took out my phone to call an uber to drive me back to my apartment. As one of my hands reached the doorknob, Yoongi grabbed me by the wrist of the other one.

I turned back slowly without lifting my gaze towards his face. He placed another hand on my waist and pulled me closer. I rested my head on his chest. Yoongi gently caressed my back while a tear rolled down my cheek.

Yoongi left a soft kiss on my forehead before heading back towards the bathroom. My heart felt heavy with the feeling of love and guilt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Masterlist

My Soldier - Min Yoongi (M)

— pairing | Min Yoongi /Reader — word c | 4,183 — genre | Soldier/Army au!, Non idol au! Smut, lightly angst. — summary | The boy you’ve always loved goes into the army to fulfill his mandatory years. You have little contact and you feel destroyed whenever you see something about the soldiers’ fight. One day, after school, someone knocks on your door and you take a surprise. — warnings/tags | Some bad words, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe!). 

Day one thousand and three. There are 1003 days that Yoongi joined the army and left me here without a course. I do not even know how I'm enduring how much I miss him. Maybe the nights I'm crying over are helping me with this, but it's already becoming unbearable to live without him by my side. Yoongi and I met when we were kids, our parents were friends and he's three years older than me, so he was my guardian at school until he graduated and started college.

But then he made the choice to stop his studies at the college in order to enlist in the army. Which was a bomb to all those who were close to him. But it was a bomb mainly for me, because I learned to be dependent on Yoongi for everything. He would take me to school, pick me up after gymnastics practice, we would go out together, he would take me everywhere and always scare the boys who wanted a chance with me saying that I was his and that none of them would ever touch me. We were both very intimate, so it was with him that I lost my virginity, it was not something planned, it was at random, in the same year he left.

As we were both very close, I never knew if what I felt for him was the love of a friend, or if it was really love between two people. But that changed when he told me he would join the Marines. It was on this day that I knew that I really loved him as a man and not as a friend. In the thrill of the moment, to know that he was leaving soon, I ended up confessing to him. And I cried like a child who had lost his parents.

Yoongi pulled me into a hug as I teared up in tears. He stroked my hair, pressing me against his body, trying to comfort me.

“Please darling, don’t cry. I don’t want you to cry, you know how I hate when you cry.” He said softly, pulling my hair away from my face, holding my chin and directing my gaze at him. “Everything will be fine, I promise.”

"Why are you doing this?" My voice broke in the middle of the sentence, and he frowned, looking away from me, to look at my hair between his fingers. "You had already been dismissed because of college, why did you decided to enlist?"

“I just don’t think it's right, (Y/N). So many guys are out there helping to save lives, protecting people and I'm here, studying music.”

"Music can also save lives."

"Yes, but not the way a soldier can."

"Please, don’t go." I burst into tears again, stuffing my face into his chest, making him hold me tight and put his face in my hair, kissing the top of my head several times, stroking my arms.

"It's okay, baby. Look, when I get back, we'll be able to talk about it and laugh at the whole situation, I promise. I promise to come back to you.”

He said that when he returned, we would talk about what we felt for each other. He also said that he would call me whenever he could, and he would send news. Which obviously did not happen often. We talked more by letters, every week he sent me one and the next day that I had received, I ran to the post office and sent another to him.

We talked twice over the phone, he asked me how things were going here, I cried a little more and we hung up. A month later we also talked about videoconferencing, where he asked the same questions, I gave the same answers and then cried again. Seven months ago I received a letter. In it he told how things were in Afghanistan. Not good. He said he lost comrades and that many others were injured. He apologized for not communicating so often because he was in the midst of critical situations. He said he missed me and that he would talk to me again soon. And I'm waiting until today.

From time to time, Yara, Seokjin's girlfriend, one of Yoongi's friends who is also in the army, calls me to meet and talk about the old days. She says it helps in waiting for Seokjin's return, but I do not think so. The more I talk about Yoongi, the stronger is the desire to see him and stronger is my desire to return to cry, but the fact is I don’t want to cry. I can’t cry anymore, I can’t stand to cry any more. I swear if I don’t get new news from Yoongi, proving that he’s okay, I'll go crazy. This is the part that disturbs me and does not let me sleep at night. The fear I have of him getting hurt badly or even dying is something that haunts me every night. So I always pray before bed and after waking up. I always ask God to protect him and I really hope he hears my prayers.

Today is my birthday. And I'm not happy about it. I'm not happy at all, because it just shows me that it's been two years and many days since I last saw him. I do not want to celebrate. My mother begged me to throw a party, even if it was just a meeting for friends, but I denied it. I'm not in the mood for parties. At least not anymore.

When I got to school, at the gate I met Suran, my best friend. As always, she smiled at me and we walked together to the lockers. She doesn’t even ask if I'm okay anymore, because she already knows the answer I’ll give.

"So, are you really not going to have a party?" She asked as I pulled out my philosophy book from the cupboard. I shook my head in denial.

“I’m not in the mood for parties or any kind of socialization with people who flatter me in front of me and stab me in the back, like half of this school does.”

“Oh, come on (Y/N), so let's go out, have fun. It is not every day that someone celebrates their birthday.” She said in a steady voice. She was always trying to get me into the party, but I do not think I can leave the house after school. "You didn’t party last year, either.”

“That's why I remember well the disaster at the party the year before. I remember that I had a hard time all night and still cried for a few more hours because of Yoongi.” I closed the locker and turned to the hallway while she did the same.

“You have to live your life, Yoongi would not like to know that you're depressed like that.”

"I don’t care, Suran." I grunted as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. "I have nothing to celebrate, so please, enough of that. My parents have pissed me off for the whole month."

"Okay." She said with a sigh of defeat and so we continued until the first class of the day that was history. Our subject? Second World War. Sometimes I wanted to be able to forget Yoongi, so that all the pain and fear would go away, but the things around me did not help me much.

When we got to class, we sat down, just after the other students entered, Mr. Padd entered the room and put his briefcase on his desk as he did every day. Mr. Padd was 45 and married. He had black hair and eyes of the same color and was a very handsome guy for someone of that age. He was one of the best teachers the school had. He taught Yoongi while he was studying here and had already sent him several times out of the room since Yoongi always liked to be the joker. From the table in the back of the room, where I sat, I could see him perfectly as he write the date on the blackboard.

"Good morning students!" He said receiving a reply from everyone in the room. "Well, I want to remind you today that next week we will have a test only on the Holocaust. Then I suggest you study hard."

"That's not even that difficult, Professor." Caleb, one of the nerd students in the room said. "Anyone can get a good grade."

"Anyone who studies, Caleb, don’t forget ... Well, before we talk about the matter of class, how about we take a commentary on world news that are circulating out there. Somebody saw something interesting that wanted to share?"

"Besides the fact that they're trying to create a robot with a human mind, no."

“Has anyone heard of the success of the peacekeeping missions in Afghanistan?” I immediately lifted my head at the words. I usually did not watch television so I never really knew much about this news. "Despite the losses of soldiers, everything is going well ..."

Oh no! Loss of Soldiers. Yoongi is a soldier. I may have lost Yoongi and I do not even know.

Suddenly, my heart sank into my chest and my breathing became hard to control. Suran who was next to me looked at me startled but not surprised. I've had panic attacks other times, so she always knew what to do. She took my hand and gave me a comforting smile, then turned to the teacher who was talking about something, but I couldn’t understand the words and did not even connect them to make his sentence make sense.

"Mr. Padd, (Y/N) is not feeling well, can we go to the infirmary?" She stood up and stood beside me, running her hand through my hair.

"What are you feeling, (Y/N)?" He approached worriedly as I felt the eyes of everyone in the room on me, the weird girl with a panic attack.

"You touched on a sensitive subject." He seemed to understand, then indicated the door, giving us permission to withdraw. Minutes later we were in the ladies' room. She leaned against the wall and I with my hands soaked with water on my face.

“(Y/N), this is not right! You are not well. You need to go to a psychiatrist”

“I don’t need appointments with psychiatrists. I'm not going crazy. I just need Yoongi! Is it so hard to understand, Suran?” I raised my voice more than I should, but I could not control myself. “I don’t want a fucking birthday party, I don’t want to go out and enjoy my fucking life. I want Yoongi. Alive. With me!

“(Y/N), I know it's hard ...”

“No! You don’t” I yelled, slamming my hand on the sink counter. "The man you love is here with you! Yoongi is in the middle of a war where he can be killed at any moment.” And my tears of pain and despair began to fall. "And I can’t stop thinking about it.I can’t stop thinking that I can’t protect him. I just want him back. I just want him to come back home, Suran.” And seconds later she was hugging me, comforting me once again while I cried and called desperately for him. I lost count of how many times she did it for me. I remember several times when she and her boyfriend stopped going out to stay with me while I had my anger attacks and started screaming and breaking everything. I do not even remember how many times I felt like I was going to explode in tiny pieces if Yoongi did not come back soon.

So, this is love? It is like this? Does it make you corrode inside, then make you explode and lose your head as if nothing else matters? So that's what I feel. That's what I feel for Yoongi.

As soon as I got home, I went straight up to my room, threw my backpack on the floor, and started taking off my clothes. I went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower to take my shower. I would be home alone today, at least until nine or ten at night. It was Friday, and my parents would be arriving later. I would have the rest of the day to stay home and do whatever I wanted, but the only thing I would do was lie in bed and think.

Just past five-thirty in the afternoon, I got up and went down to the kitchen, making a quick sandwich for me. And before I take the first bite, I hear the bell ring. I found it strange because I was not expecting any visitors, and no one would come to my house unannounced. I got up from the counter, clapping my palms and removing the crumbs.

I went to the front door and without even peering to know who it was, I opened the door, I was startled to see who it was and froze in place. My heart stopped for a few seconds and it hit me again quickly, making the blood flow increase, irrigating my muscles, causing me to finally have a reaction and run towards the one who was standing at my door, hopping desperately in his lap.

It was Yoongi. The black-haired man with small eyes that I loved so much was right there in front of me, smiling with that sincere and seductive smile he always had. His arms moved around me, lifting me from the floor and shoving his face into my neck as I tear myself apart for the thousandth time in a week, but this time the tears were for joy. Thank God! He is alive! He is fine! He is with me again. Thank, God!

"I missed you so much, my princess." It was only by listening to his voice that I really knew it was real. We stayed for long minutes like that. I sobbing softly and he stroking my hair. Until I sniffed and lifted my face, staring into his gleaming black eyes, almost seeing my reflection through them. Before I could think of something to say, Yoongi put me down and took his two bags, putting them in and closing the door behind him.

We stare at each other for long seconds. He wore brown boots, a camouflaged trousers, a white shirt, and a camouflage jacket over it. His black hair was short, but it made him extremely sexy, with the look of a serious man. Soon I was on top of him again, hugging him tight, but this time without crying. I knew I would not cry any more.

"When did you get here?" I asked in a voice muffled by his coat.

"Are you sure you want to talk about it now?" He asked raising my head and making me stare at him for long, long seconds. I recognized that look. It was that look he threw at me the first time he saw me naked. It was a look full of lust and malice. Born of desire to have something he needs. “I swear I'll tell you anything you want, (Y/N)! But I need to do something that I have been eager to do for a very, very long time.”

"And what is it?" My voice came out in a whisper. I closed my eyes as I felt his hand slide from my face to my neck, shuddering all that remained of base inside me, destroying everything at once.

"Make you mine again." I felt the hot breath touch my cheek and when I opened my eyes, there he was. Close to me. So close it made it easier when I stepped forward and kissed him with desire. The desire that was kept in me all this time he'd been away. His hands came down to my hips, giving me the impulse to intertwine my legs around his waist, lifting me off the floor. I brushed my nails through the back of his neck and bit his lip, hearing a moan coming from his mouth. Right after we were moving. I'm not sure how, but soon he was jamming me against the newly closed door of my room.

One of his hands held me underneath and the other grabbed the back of my neck, deepening the kiss. A few seconds later, his kisses down from my lips to my neck, causing me delicious chills to feel his wet lips touching me.

“I need to feel you.” He whispered and so took me to the bed, laying me on it and taking the jacket, and throwing it in a corner of the room. He opened my legs and slid into them, kissing me over the top of my shirt, and then he was biting my nipples. “Thank God you're not wearing a bra.” If I was not so excited, I would have laughed at the despair in his voice. “I remember well the first time we did this ... Are you still the way I remember?” I think his intention was that the phrase came out sweet but ended up showing more malice than innocence and chivalry.

"Take off my clothes and tell me you!" I whispered as I watched him look up from my breasts to my eyes. The Black burning with desire. The malicious grin appeared at the corner of his lips, making him extremely sexy and making me extremely aroused. His hands gripped my arms and lifted me, pulling my blouse up, leaving me with my naked chest. Soon his hands were wrapping my breasts gently as his used his thumbs to play with my nipples. I threw my head back as I remembered that Yoongi was simply boss in driving me crazy in every way. I let out a moan accompanied by a sigh as I felt his tongue caressing my left nipple. Fucking hell! I had forgotten how good it was.

“Lie on your stomach, Princess”. And once again, a phrase that should be sweet, came out of his mouth full of malice. I obeyed, turning and bending my hands on the bed as I felt his fingers caressing my back, making me shiver again, making me arch my back. His hands went down to my hip and stood for seconds on my butt before he squeezed and let out a moan. A few moments later, he pulled on my shorts, leaving me only in panties. "My impression, or are you wet down here?" He whispered on my ear as he stroked my clit over my panties. I groaned and turned my face. His lips touched mine and my desire was to turn around and grab him.

“It's not fair. You're still in your clothes.” I grunted and he quickly backed away, laughing, lifting and throwing his clothes away, impressing me with his speed. Soon he was kneeling on the mattress beside me, his hand caressing me over my panties. I bit my lip moaning again and with one hand I held his rigid limb, watching him sigh, pressing his fingers on me harder and moaning. I let my hand go up and down its length before I put it in my mouth, sucking it.

“God! (Y/N)! I almost forgot how good you are at this.” He spoke by increasing the speed of the circular motions in my clitoris. His free hand went up to my hair, pulling them off my face so he could see me better as I sucked him. “You look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth ... Yeah baby. Suck your dick. Show me how much you missed me.” While I sucked him, Yoongi pushed my panties off, touching the skin with his fingers, making my pussy throb, looking for more touch. “You fucked someone after me?"

"No!" I answered before putting his dick back in my mouth. I did not understand why that question, but it did not matter too much. When I sank his cock a little further into my throat, Yoongi fingered me, making me choke.

"So tight." He moaned with pleasure in his voice, moving his fingers in and out of me. “So hot. I can not wait to get in there again and kill my longing for you, my doll. Feel you again ...”

“So don’t wait anymore.” I whispered without restraining the pleasure of feeling he wanted to be with me. Inside me. "I'm ready for you, Yoongi. I have always been.”

I think this was what he needed to do what he had to do.

He knelt over me, leaving my legs together and so he passed the head of his cock through my pussy. I felt him penetrating me and I grabbed the sheets releasing a continuous moan until he filled me. Going deep. At the right point. It hurt, but it was so good. I missed so much to feel it inside me. My cunt throbbed around his cock. It took me a few seconds to get used to it inside, but I can’t say I did not like what I felt.

I could hear his sighs and low moans as he moved slowly back and forth. I interpreted this as if he was afraid to hurt me, but soon after the speed increased, which meant he was preparing me. Loud groans escaped my mouth before I could handle. Yoongi was big and went deep inside me, making every time he thrusted inside me, my cunt tightened around him.

“So fucking tight.” He whispered between his teeth, letting out a moan just after and pulling my butt back, prancing me. He grabbed the sides of my body, using it to pull me back as he went deeper and deeper into me, getting harder with each thrust, making my screams even louder. His hands began to caress my back and soon, his hands were on mine, holding them. Yoongi was leaning over me, giving me kisses by the back of his neck, and bites on his back as he began to thrust deep and hard, causing our moans to rise even higher. “God, (Y/N)! “ A hoarse groan left his throat making me smile.

A short time later, I was facing up, with him between my legs, clinging to me, continuing to fuck me. One of his hands was now between us and he was masturbating me, and the orgasm would not be long in coming.

“Let's do this together, baby” He gasped. "And that will prove we have a very strong connection, little one.” He whispered breathlessly. Oh damn! I was coming. I moaned loudly and began to feel the trembling in my legs starting, feeling a hot little pain focus on my belly as he fucked me deep. “Come on, baby. Come with me, come around that dick.”

And the moment he said that, I could not stand it and I let out a cry, uttering his name, with pleasure running through my body while my pussy throbbed, and he was still deep in me, as he cum inside me, moaning loudly.

Seconds later, his lips hit mine, kissing me gently as he slid to my side on the bed, pulling me to his chest that still rose and fell quickly. We stayed like that a long time, as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“I do not think we need to talk about what we feel about each other, right?” He asked after a few minutes. "What happened here already proves that I love you so much, (Y/N)!" He whispered caressing my hair. I smiled and squeezed him between my arms. “And I promise I will not leave you alone anymore.”

“But what about the army?”

"I've already fulfilled the obligatory years. If they call me again, I can choose to decline. And if you stay with me, I will refuse anything that wanted to keep me from you ”

He is here. He is here with me. We are together again.

"I love you, Yoongi." I whispered, giving him a light kiss on the lips. He smiled and ran his fingers over my cheek before pulling me back to his chest.

"I love you too, Baby. Oh, and happy birthday. Sorry, I did not bring any gifts.”

“You are my gift, Yoongi.”

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

Masterlist

|S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff | 

Jealousy | m, f | knj / reader

↳ Best friends to lovers au! One Shot

[ You are in love with your best friend and one day decides it’s time to forget the passion and invest in a new relationship, what you did not expect was that your best friend showed up at the party you’re at, to surprise you.]

Series: The Bet - Between books | m | knj / reader

↳ Boyfriend au!, College au!  Smut. One Shot

[ ‘The ideas we get when we're drunk are best,’ Kim Seokjin said it before challenging you and Namjoon to have sex in the university library. ]

| S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

Lucky In Love | m, f, a | ksj / reader

↳ Best friends to lovers au! One Shot

[ You had a difficult childhood. As a teenager you meet a cool guy on the internet who turns out to be your best friend,  years later you’re living in the same city as him, hiding your passion. A night at a local nightclub can change  everything ]

| S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

My Soldier | m, f, a | myg / reader

↳  Soldier/Army au! One Shot

[ The boy you’ve always loved goes into the army to fulfill his mandatory years. You have little contact and you feel destroyed whenever you see something about the soldiers’ fight. One day, after school, someone knocks on your door and you take a surprise. ]

Too Late To Apologize | a | myg / reader

↳ Idol au! One Shot

[ You were dating for three years and what you wanted most was being able to take care of him. But Yoongi was too busy with his job to realized that he was losing you. ]

Love me, Hate me | a, m, f | myg / reader

↳ Fuckboy au!, College au! One Shot

[ You hated him, hated how handsome he was, hated how all the girls wanted him, you hated hating him, but you couldn’t contain yourself. At least not anymore. You’ll find out in the worst way, or the best, that Min Yoongi is an addictive drug.]

Ddaeng | m | myg / reader

↳  Idol au!, boyfriend au! 

[ Yoongi just performed and goes straight to the dressing room to meet you and continue the show, but a more private one.]

| S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

Hazard | m | jhs / reader

↳  Badboy au! First part of the serie Hazard.

[ You are suspicious that your boyfriend is cheating on you. You decide to follow him one day, after work, and find him at a bar, kissing his secretary.  You two start fighting on the street, outside the pub, and that’s where you meet him. A man you’ve never seen before offers you a ride on his motocycle and you accept. And this ride ends with you in his bath, fucking him. ]

Series The Bet: Haunted House | m | jhs / reader - NEW

↳  Enemys to lovers au!

[ Because of your friends, Hoseok thought you hated him, and you thought the same. But after they bet on spending Halloween Eve night in an abandoned house, everything changes. ]

| S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

Don’t Call Her Anymore | f | pjm / reader

↳  Best friends to lovers au! One Shot

[ You were dating a boy for many months, you fell in love but discovered he had another girlfriend and that broke you. He always called you when he were drunk and you answered, listening to him say the same things. Until Jimin put a stop to it. ]

Our First Time | m | pjm / reader

↳  Non idol au! One Shot

[  Jimin always wanted to be closer to you, and one day he finally succeeded. ]

Series: The bet - Vlive Blowjob | m | pjm / reader

↳  Idol au! One Shot. 

[ You and Jimin make a bet: If he loses, he has to buy a purse of the new Gucci collection for you, but if you lose, you have to make him a blowjob... while he makes a Live. None of this makes sense, but he was drunk when he proposed and you were drunk when you accepted. That explains everything. ]

Thank you, next | f, m, a | pjm / reader

↳  Best friends to lovers au! One Shot

[ In high school you weren’t very popular, ten years later you travel to a class reunion of your old class. What could go wrong? ]

Kiss It Off Me | m | jjk/reader | pjm/reader

↳Non idol au! Series? ↳high school au! bad boy au! baseball player au!

[Jimin is a player on the school baseball team, you are his girl. Jungkook wants you to be his.]

| S/ M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

A Night With a Vampire | m, a | kth / reader

↳  Vampire au! Serie.

[ The end of the relationship leaves you lost and totally sad. Your friend is having a party and you promised you would. You just didn’t know that your life would change from there. ]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 : Coming Soon.

Swim | m | kth / reader

↳  Part of Swim series

[ He knew you, but he had never spoken to you. You were Hoseok’s best friend, and he was really jealous of you, he never opened a way for Taehyung to approach. Until one night at a party, where Hoseok wasn’t around you. The way was free for Taehyung do what he always wanted.  ]

Swim PART 2 | m | kth / reader

↳  Part of Swim series

[ A week has passed since Hoseok caught you and Taehyung in his bed. Hoseok has being away from all his friends, including you, his best friend. Taehyung is in a bar with some friends and he hasn’t seen you since that night, and he can’t get you out of his head, so when he sees you entering the club, he can’t hold himself. ]

|  S/M - Smut/Mature | A - Angst | F - Fluff |

Ride Or Die | m, a | jjk / reader

Trailer FMV: Trailer One | Trailer Two.

↳  Mafia Au!  / Badboy au! Serie.

[ He seemed to have come out of a museum for being so handsome, it seemed to be that badboy coming straight from the teen movies, but as  you go deep into his life, you realize he was not a badguy just to annoy  his parentes. He was not a Badboy, but a BadMan. He sold drugs and his friends too. He commanded a dangerous, feared gang. The Century. And you fell madly in love with him, almost leaving your life and everyone you knew behind, to be with him. ]

↳  ON GOING

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 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 Season Finale | Season 2 : Coming soon

The Ghost Of You | a, m, f | jjk / reader

↳ Ghost au! Series

[ You started studying at a new university after an event that forced you to move to another city. In a city even smaller than you used to live, it was Vegas University, where you would spend the next two years of your life until the end of your course. Strange things begin to happen when you get there, and someone’s life - or death - depends on your choices.  ]

↳  ON GOING

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 : SEMI HIATUS

Daddy Issues | a, m | Jjk / reader

↳ Stalker au! Killer au! psycho au!, horror, thriller, Serie

[ When you started dating Jungkook, he was your gateway to all the pain but when you finally find out who he really is, you realize it’s too late to go back. You are in danger, and you know it, but worst of all is that you don’t want to escape.]

Part 1 | Part 2 : SEMI HIATUS

Under The Mat | a, m, | jjk / reader

↳ Ceo!Jungkook Series

[ He was your boss and you hated him, but he knew that wasn’t exactly what you felt.  ]

↳  ON GOING

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3: Coming Soon

Kiss It Off Me | m | jjk/reader | pjm/reader

↳Non idol au! Series? ↳high school au! bad boy au! baseball player au!

[Jimin is a player on the school baseball team, you are his girl. Jungkook wants you to be his.]

All Mine | m | jjk/reader |

↳Non idol au! Series? ↳CEO!Jungkook

[CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country, Jungkook didn’t have much time for love. You were in love with him, but he didn’t feel the same way about you, at least that’s what you thought.]

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

Too Late To Apologize - Min Yoongi (A)

— pairing | Min Yoongi /Reader — word c | 2,393 — genre | Angst. Break up. — summary | You were dating for three years and what you wanted most was being able to take care of him. But Yoongi was too busy with his job to realized that he was losing you. — warnings/tags | Some bad words. This fanfiction was inspired by Apologize, a One Republic’s song. 

"Can’t you do this just this once, baby? We haven’t had a real date for months, you only stay in this studio and-"

“I already said no, (Y / N). I am working. I'm doing something in my life. I need to write for the new album. I need at least four melodies until the end of the month. We can do it another day.” He said rubbing his eyes while you were still trying to convince him to leave work early for you have a dinner together. But it was always like this, he always put off for another day. It's been three months since you had your last romantic date. He would always uncheck the last minute, or leave you waiting for hours then send a message saying he couldn’t go. Life was being a boring routine. "Just go home, we'll talk later."

"But you promised me, Yoongi." You whimpered. Yoongi snorted irritably, throwing his head back.

"It's 'Yoongi Oppa', (Y / N), I already told you about it."

"You need to leave this room, stop for a while, you will end up getting sick. If you don’t want to hang out, we'll just go home so you can sleep a little, on a real bed and not on that uncomfortable sofa-”

“For God's sake, (Y / N), I said no. You aren’t my mother, so stop acting like you are, and stop “babying’ me. I'm 25, I don’t need you to tell me when to sleep or eat. I'm busy, unlike you who spends most of your day with your ass nailed to the couch in your living room. Why do you have to be so insistent and can’t understand when I say something just once? I don’t understand why you like so much about meddling in the lives of others, just go live yours and let me take care of myself. Go find someone else to annoy. Stop giving opinions and wasting my time and just go away. I'm already stressed enough to have to put up with you now.” He screamed, making you take a step back, amazed. He never yelled at you. You blinked a few times as he turned, put on his headphones, and turned his attention back to the computer.

His words hit the bottom of your chest, hurting you. You shrugged, sniffling, feeling like you could start crying at any moment. You didn’t mean to upset him, you were just worried about him, because you loved him. But a bad feeling came over your chest, making several questions hovering around your head. What was I doing there? Did he really want to be in a relationship with me? He was happy with that? No, he wasn’t. Because if he was happy, he wouldn’t say those things to you. You thought. He didn’t need a relationship with someone in need like you, he did not want you to worry about him, and apparently you were just making him waste his precious time. You got the message.

You took some deep breaths. You bit your lip a few times and opened your mouth about five times to say something, but no word left. You had nothing to say, you just wanted to cry at that moment. You turned your back and left the room, closing the door carefully to not bother even more.

Two weeks had passed since your discussion with Yoongi. You missed him so much, but you were not sure he felt the same. You didn’t see him, you didn’t speak to him either by call or message, he kept living his life at Bighit and in his studio, and you just worked and got some extra work to not think too much. While in the morning you worked as a receptionist in a hotel, in the afternoon you worked in a fried chicken shop.

You had just come home from work, and was exhausted. Luckily the next day you were off duty. Your weeks were like this, you were destroyed, but you preferred it than just shrinking in bed for the rest of the day, looking at the empty space beside you and crying over the things that Min Yoongi had said to you.

You dropped your house keys on the coffee table of the living room and walked toward the kitchen. Your head was starting to ache from exhaustion. You took a glass of juice and stood propped up on the kitchen counter for a few more minutes, wondering if you'd go to your bathroom to take a bath, if you ate something, if you went to the room to watch TV, or if you sat on the balcony of the apartment to think. It was when you heard footsteps coming from the living room, making your eyes widen in alarm, not knowing who was there. You put the glass on the table and walked toward the living room, bumping into Yoongi. The moment your eyes met, you knew he wasn’t there to make up.

"But where the hell have you been?" He asked in a harsh voice. You sighed and walked away from him, walking toward the bedroom.

"I was at work."

"You work from eight to noon, (Y / N)." He said out loud.

"I'm working two jobs now." You replied.

“Why? Do you need money? If you are, you can tell me that I give you some, you do not have to work two jobs.” He said, making you turn to him, you arched one eyebrow. Was he worried?

“No, I don’t need money. I just don’t want to spend my day with my ass on the couch.” You spoke remembering his words and felt that painful pang in the chest once more, but you gave a weak smile to disguise.

“Bullshit, I know you, you’re too lazy to work in two jobs just because there was nothing else to do. Do you owe money to anyone?”  You stepped back while listening to those words. Was that what he thought of you? Did he think you were lazy? You weren’t yet healed of the last fight you both had, so the urge to cry, attacked you again.

“You came here to insult me?” You asked, feeling offended.

“No, I came here because you didn’t talked to me for days, and I thought something was wrong, you can’t go a day without pissing me off, so I figured something should have happened.”

Ouch.

“You told me to go away and take care of my own life, leaving to understand that you didn’t want me to interfere in your or worry about you, that's what I tried to do.” You grunted, even more offended by his words. How had your relationship reached that point? Where he stepped on you and you didn’t even defend yourself.

“When did I say that?” He asked frowning, confused, searching in memory when he had said those things.

“Two weeks ago when you yelled at me because I wanted to get you out of the studio and take you out for a little bit of space.”

"I can’t believe you took that seriously." He said dropping an ironic laugh, looking at a corner of the room, before returning to look serious to me. "You're so dramatic."

“It's not drama, unlike you I have a heart. I was just trying to take care of you, like I've been doing since we started dating. But it's always like this, I try to make you care, then you fight me and I leave crying. If you don’t want a girlfriend, or if you don’t want me as your girlfriend, just say it at once and stop mistreating me." You spoke sadly, holding your hand to your chest. Your heart ached and your tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“But of course I want you as my girlfriend. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be bearing you bothering me for so long.” He said raising his voice. Once again you were taken by surprise with his words. Was that so? You only bothered him? “And I'm so tired of all this work, it's such a big pressure for this new album that I just can’t stop working, and you are always asking me for things I cannot do the time, you know (Y / N), I have priorities!”

"Of course, why would I think I'm one of your priorities, right, Yoongi?" You asked sarcastically.

“What did I tell you, (Y / N)? It's Yoongi Oppa. Where is your respect? I'm still older than you.” He said, taking a step toward you. That made you reach your limit. All that situation and he was more concerned with formalities than with your relationship.

"And where is your respect, Min Yoongi?" You screamed, unable to contain yourself, walking from one side to the other. catching him by surprise, making him widen his eyes. You had never yelled at him. “We've been dating for three years and most of the time you've been treating me like I'm fucking a bitch, a sperm deposit where you come to my house at three in the morning, wake me up and get me down on my knees to suck your dick, to ease your fucking stress. And then the next day you ignore me and remind me of my true place in your life. I'm last on your list of important things, that's if I have a place in this shit.” You took a deep breath and stopped walking, looking at him before continuing. “You know what? Fuck you, Yoongi, I'm tired of doing everything you want. I'm tired of trying to make you take care of yourself, to take care of you. I'm tired of always trying, and always getting bad words in return. I'm at my limit. If you can not treat me like a fucking human, like the fucking girl who loves you and who would do everything for you, It is better it to end here and now.”

Yoongi was silent, he had never witnessed anything like this, he had never seen you angry and frustrated as you were at that moment.With all the work he and the boys were doing to promote the group, with all the pressure he was having on his head, he didn’t have time for anything else, not even to take care of your relationship. But he did not know it was being so bad for you, he didn’t know that he was being such a bad person to you and that he was hurting you that way, because he didn’t pay attention to you. He loved you, that was a fact, but with all that was happening, he couldn’t assimilate everything.

He looked at you who was standing in front of him, hands on your waist and head thrown back, taking a deep breath, sniffing, holding as much as possible your tears. You no longer knew what to do, you were tired of all the times you cried for him. You was tired of excuses, tired of giving other chances, thinking that he would change someday, tired of always falling and rising alone, tired of loving him with all your heart, body and soul, but receiving nothing in return. You knew you would suffer with all that, but it was time to put a stop to all that suffering. You sighed heavily and turned to him, who regarded you without knowing what to do.

“Leave, Yoongi. Ask for one of the boys to come get your stuff, it ends here. I will not suffer for you anymore.” And you walked toward the bathroom, entering and slamming the door behind you. You leaned against it, feeling like if your heart would come out of your mouth. You could hear his steps out of the room and then the door of the living room being slammed. That's when you allowed yourself to slide to the floor and cry compulsively.

Six months later.

Yoongi was walking down the sidewalk, heading for his favorite coffee shop in the city that was also close to the company. He had not spoken to you or seen you for six months. He missed you a lot, and often found himself staring at his cell phone, thinking of calling you to listen to your voice. He knew you were okay, because you kept in touch with Namjoon and he always heard from you. He was glad you were okay, but he just wanted a new chance to show that he could be a better boyfriend.

He was about to enter the cafe when he turned his face to the side and saw you coming out of a clothing store. You had a smile on your face and carried a bag in one hand. You still as beautiful as ever. Always so smiling and radiant, infecting everyone around you with your happiness, charisma and optimism. Yoongi's heart throbbed and he couldn’t contain the gigantic smile that came from his lips, with the euphoria spreading through his body, finally seeing you after all this time.

That was his chance. The chance to talk to you, to apologize and if necessary, beg for a new chance. He would do anything for you, change whatever it takes to get you back into his arms. He would be a better boyfriend, a better man, he would be what you deserved. Yoongi turned towards you, walking towards you, but stopped short in the middle of the way to see a man coming out of the store you had just left and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into a warm kiss that you accepted smiling.

Yoongi's world collapsed at that moment. Any fantasy he had created in his mind in which he got his forgiveness and you came back to him,  broke into bits like his heart. Anguish and pain took control of his body, making him paralyzed, seeing you give affection to another man. He didn’t know you were dating, you had never said anything to Namjoon, and if you had, he hadn’t said anything.

Yoongi stayed in the same place, watching you and that man walk away laughing and playing with each other, while his heart was scattered on the sidewalk, so that anyone could step on it.

Just then, Yoongi came to realize, that it was too late to apologize.

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

Ride or Die - Chapter 11 (m)

— pairing | Jeon Jungkook /Reader — word c | 5,606 — genre | Mafia au!, Angst , smut. — summary |  He seemed to have come out of a museum for being so handsome, it seemed to be that badboy coming straight from the teen movies, but as you go deep into his life, you realize he was not a badguy just to annoy his parentes. He was not a Badboy, but a BadMan. He sold drugs and his friends too. He commanded a dangerous, feared gang.And you fell madly in love with him, almost leaving your life and everyone you knew behind, to be with him.. — warnings/tags | Adult content, Violence, drugs, alcoholic beverages, explicit sex, low slang words. — disclaimer | myself and this fic DOES NOT condone violence, abuse, use of drugs, alcohol or any kind of crimes. This is a fanfic, an alternative reality, I have no intention of offending anyone. If that makes you feel bad, please do not read. In this fanfic the character is not abusive to the reader, and remember, what Jungkook does in this fanfic is not what he does in real life. Myself or this fanfic does not have any type of connection with BTS, Jungkook or Bighit. Hope you like it.

— Ride Or Die - Character Biography.

O1  | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | ‘11′ | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Jungkook was sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared at your photo as wallpaper on his cell phone screen and sighed every time he thought how much he missed you. Of all the decisions he had to make in his life, leaving you was by far the most painful and difficult. He didn’t mind killing people, torturing them, making them suffer, let alone the consequences his actions would do to their lives. But when it came to you, it all got complicated.

During the months that you were separated, he tried his best to stay away from you, the first month was easy, until the day Hoseok came saying that he hadn’t found you and that the neighbors hadn’t seen in weeks. Jungkook panicked, sending as many men as he could to search for you around the city. When Hoseok called him again saying that everything was fine and that you had appeared safe and sound, he had to hear your voice to prove it, he could barely hold himself as he heard your tearful voice calling his name on the other end of the line, and when he hung up the phone, he tossed the phone into the wall and destroyed everything that could be destroyed in that room. He hated to be the reason for your pain.

The second month became difficult, Jungkook had to fill himself with jobs to not go after you and to take you in his arms, beg for you to forgive him and accept him back. That month was simply the worst month for anyone who decided to annoy the infamous Jeon Jungkook. The fury, the anger, the lack he felt from you was consuming him and he managed to become even more dangerous and deadly than before. Anyone who crossed his path, anyone who dared go wrong with him, annoy him or who simply touched on the subject ‘you’ Jungkook had no mercy.

The third month became impossible for Jungkook to overcome the lack of you. He started to get out of control, with the feelings on his skin, taking control of his mind and body, making him unstable and a million times more dangerous, so he turned away from the leadership of the Century, leaving it in Hoseok's hands. Jungkook barely left the room during the day, and if he hadn’t eaten before, now he simply didn’t even come close to meals. When he realized, he was going out at night to chase after you. Often he just stopped across the street from your house and watch you through the living room windows. Sometimes he would go to college and watch you from afar, how happy you looked with your friends. But he knew you well enough to know that the smiles you gave them was fake, because he knew you were suffering too. Other times he would follow you through the streets at night, hidden in the shadows, while you were doing night walks. He loved the way you shook your head, moved your feet and arms, totally relaxed, dancing to the music that came from your headphones. He hated dancing, but he loved watching you dance.

Sitting in that bed, looking at your photo, he remembered one night as he was following you, he was across the street, hidden in the shadows of the alleys. You were dancing again, as you did every time you went out to walk the night. He then spotted a man a few meters behind you. From the way he walked and looked at you, Jungkook knew that this man would try something and he wouldn’t let anything happen. No one would harm you, his angel, his light.

With quick, silent steps, he crossed the street and approached the man who was already approaching you from behind. The music on the headphones was so loud that you didn’t even hear that approach. Jungkook crept behind the man and grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth and pulling him to an alleyway few yards behind you. Jeon threw the man on the floor of the alley and peered into the street, seeing that you kept walking and dancing quietly, a sign that you hadn’t noticed anything.

“Are you crazy ...” The man started talking, rising from the ground and heading toward Jeon who opened his pocket knife and let the blade slip out, striking the man with the knife, piercing his lungs, letting him fall to the ground and agonize.

"Yeah, I got crazy when I saw what you were about to do with my girl." He said quietly lowering himself to the side of the man who groaned in pain and began to choke on his own blood. He smiled, satisfied with what was happening, the blood being pumped out of the man's body through the hole Jeon's knife made, soiling his black shirt with blood. “I'll have mercy on you and I will not stab you again. I hope you suffer a lot on the road to hell. One day, I'll be there to stab you again, and again and again.” He growled and got up, putting his penknife in his pocket and walking with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, as if nothing had happened.

Returning to the present, Hoseok's voice caught his eye, making him look at the door and see his friend leaning against the portal. He did not have a good expression on his face.

"Yoongi and Namjoon are in Velvet and apparently have members of the East gang there. The two are thinking that maybe the guys want to pull a fight with them. I tried to call Taehyung to send him there, but his phone It's off. "

"Alright." Jungkook said getting up from the bed and walking out of the room. The two of them left the house and entered the Dodge, heading towards the nightclub.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the pub, the first thing they did upon entering the establishment was to look for Yoongi and Namjoon, who were leaning against a wall, in a dimly lit corner of the place. Both of them had crossed arms and stared a specific location, four guys sitting in the bar, talking to each other and looking disguisedly in the direction of the two.

"Did they say anything to you?" Jungkook asked as he approached his friends.

"No, but they've been staring at us since they arrived. The first one, wearing that red T-shirt, I've seen him walking with the lider of the East gang. He's a guard or something.” Namjoon said.

"And the four of them are armed." Yoongi said. "They'll do something, and if it's not with us, it's with the place. If they're not going to attack us four, that means they intend to attack the place."

“They're in Century territory, if they do anything, they will provoke war with us and the Jeon's mafia.” Jungkook said turning around and watching the men. "They cannot be stupid enough to get into enemy territory in just four. There must be more of them around here."

"And if there are more of them, we're at a disadvantage. Where is Taehyung anyway?" Namjoon asked.

"I don’t know, his cell phone is off." Hoseok said. Jungkook snorted and pulled out his cell phone, trying to call Kim again. That's when Hoseok saw Taehyung coming through the door of the nightclub. Yoongi and Namjoon were relieved to know that nothing had happened to the boy, but Hoseok frowned when he realized that there was a hand holding Taehyung's arm. It was a small, delicate hand, it was a girl's hand. “Holy shit.” Jung exclaimed loudly and nudged Jungkook's shoulder, drawing his attention as he turned in the direction the others looked at with wide eyes. Jeon almost had a heart attack when he saw you standing next to him, holding his arm as he made his way through the crowd.

You wore a white dress, and high heels. So innocent and helpless hiding behind Taehyung. Jungkook did not know what to think at the time. He followed you both with his eyes and as you walked towards the drinks counter, where those men were, the fury invaded the veins of Jungkook. He didn’t think twice before taking the gun he kept at his waist and walking toward the drinks counter. The other three did the same, following the leader. He was not going to allow anyone to touch you. They wouldn’t allow it.

Meanwhile, you and Taehyung ordered your drinks from the bartender and talked about something random when one of the men who was sitting next to you, wearing a red shirt, said something catching your attention.

"Wow, Jeon's famous girl is even prettier up close.”

Taehyung raised one eyebrow, looking directly at that man.

"Yes, but it's not for your beak, you scumbag."

"Now that you're done, you decided to get another member of Century, sweetheart?" The guy in the red shirt asked, raising his hand toward you, but before he could touch your skin, Taehyung pulled you back and Jungkook quickly approached, holding the man's head and slamming it against the counter, pushing it against the furniture, and placed the gun on his head. The other three boys made a point of doing something, but Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok placed them on the sight of their pistols. The bartender simply ignored that gesture as half the people there as well.

“If you touch her, I'll spread your brain across the floor.” Jungkook growled, putting pressure on the hand that shoved the man's head against the counter. You stared wide-eyed at the scene above Taehyung's shoulders that held you protectively behind him. You couldn’t describe the feeling of seeing Jungkook again after so long. He was still the same, handsome, charming, intimidating, passionate, and dangerous. He was still the same man you fell in love with. “I want you and your fucking friends out of my area in 30 seconds, or I'll hunt you down, kill you and send your bodies to your families, you got me, you shit?” The man just nodded frantically before Jeon grabbed his hair and tossed him to the floor. Half a minute later, those four men rushed out of the nightclub, which made Hoseok slightly confused. It seemed to be being too easy.

As soon as Jeon saw that these men had left the pub, he turned toward Taehyung, advancing furiously against him, hitting him with a punch in the jaw, making you hop back and cover your mouth, smothering a cry of surprise .

“But what the hell are you doing with her? What the fuck do you have in mind? What did I tell you to do, you idiot?” He screamed and hit him with a knee in the stomach, making you hold your breath, startled by Jungkook's reaction to Taehyung. “I told you and the others to stay away from her precisely because of that. The danger.”

And when you saw that Jeon would strike another blow toward Taehyung, you jumped in front of him, intending to protect him. You closed your eyes tightly, waiting for the impact Jungkook's punch would have on you, but nothing happened. When you opened your eyes, Jeon stood with his fist raised, standing in the air, his eyes wide and his face pale. Namjoon and Yoongi looked at each other in astonishment as Hoseok went on the defensive position, ready to fight Jungkook if he had really hit you, even though he knew Jungkook would never do it. Seconds later, Jungkook's face turned red and he lowered his fist, exploding shortly afterwards

“What the hell, (Y/N), I could have hit you, are you crazy?"

Three months away from you and that's what he had to say? You sighed, feeling the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, the sadness and happiness of seeing him again personally, but the sadness you felt through his words was triggering an avalanche of emotions that you just couldn’t handle and pretend to be okay.

"Is that all you have to tell me?" You whimpered, a tear trickling down your cheek, making Jungkook's expression soften instantly. He lowered his shoulders, finally realizing you were there in front of him, but he was acting like a jerk again.

You snorted and turned, running toward the pub's exit, head down and after passing through the sea of people, you finally left the nightclub hugging your body feeling the chill of the night. That was not how you planned your re-encounter with Jungkook, that was not how it was supposed to be. In your head that scene would have happened completely different. After he had expelled those men from there, he should have held you tightly, let you cry on his chest, he should comfort you, he should apologize for the days you missed crying for him, he should say that he loved you, and missed you. He should have been sweet to you and not rude. You sniffed once more, holding as much of your tears as you could, you didn’t want to cry.

And at that moment, you could only think of Jimin's words. It was always him who dried your tears, it was Jimin who was always with you when you cried because of Jungkook and in that moment, once again you cried because of him. That wasn’t right, why were you in love with Jungkook? Why couldn’t you be in love with Jimin? He sure wouldn’t make you cry like now. However, your body, soul and heart belonged to Jungkook. And forever would be his, even if it hurts, even if you were not together, you would never find someone like him, you would never love someone like him, not even Jimin.

Jungkook didn’t waste a second and went after you, past people and following you out. He saw you walking briskly down the sidewalk, arms wrapped around your body, trying to shield you from the cold. For three months he had the urge to talk to you, to touch you, but he held on because he knew it was right for you, but at that moment he was fucking himself for what was right. He wouldn’t let the woman of his life walk alone on the street, in that cold. He walked over to the Dodge, he sped the car and approached you. He did not have to honk, because you knew the engine sound of the Dodge 78 well. You thought to ignore and keep walking, but the truth was, you needed to be close to him. You stopped walking as the car parked beside you on the sidewalk.

Jungkook reached for the backseat and took out a jacket. He got out of the vehicle and turned around, approaching you. As much as he wanted to pick you up and kiss you, he just helped you put on his jacket. You still sniffed and refused to lift your head, but didn’t think twice before stepping into the car in silence as he opened the passenger door for you.

He wasn’t running this time, he was in no hurry to get anywhere.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked after twenty minutes that Jungkook was just roaming the city. He drew his attention from the street to look at you who had eyes and a red nose before turning his attention back to the road with a shrug.

"I couldn’t leave you alone on the street at this time and in the cold."

“Why do you care?”

“Because I love you.”

"Then why did you break up with me?" Your voice cracked as you said that, shrinking again and crying. He drove for another few minutes to park his car in front of a park and turn off the engine. He remained silent, listening to the sniffles echoing through the car. He then finally took a deep breath and began to speak.

"The day you left that house, my life was over, (Y/N)!" He started, staring out of the car through the front window. "I didn’t ... I didn’t want to break up with you, you know what you are for me. You know how important you’re to me.”

“If I were really important, you wouldn’t have left me." You said interrupting him. Jungkook immediately turned to you, his eyebrows drooping and his jaw clenched, not believing what he was hearing. You shrugged into the seat, not looking at him. "You just had to talk to me, if you really cared, you wouldn’t have left me."

"I know you're hurt, I know a part of you must hate me, but never say that I don’t care about you." He said putting his hand on your chin, turning your face toward him, forcing you to look at him. As he looks into your eyes, he can see various feelings passing through them, anger, pain, fear, sadness. But he could also see that affection you had whenever you looked at him. “I did what I did to protect you. Your parents are dead because of me, but they wouldn’t be if I hadn’t come into your life.”

"Stop it, Jungkook.” You growled, growing angry. You left the car, slamming the door behind you, leaning against the hood. Jungkook frowned and left, going after you. “Can you stop acting like you regret meeting me?” You asked turning to him with your arms crossed. “I know the fact that someone murdered them was because of my connection to your family. And I honestly blamed you in the beginning, then I started to blame myself, because if it was really someone else's fault, it would be mine because I took the ride.” You said walking up to him, it was your turn to hold his chin and direct his gaze to yours. “I agreed to date you, I chose to continue with you after finding out what you and your friends were doing.”

“(Y/N) ...” He tried to argue and pull away, but you pushed him and held him against the car door. You were the only person in the world who could intimidate him.

“Do you regret loving me, Jeon Jungkook?

“Of course not.” He answered without hesitation.

“Good, because I don’t regret accepting you, I don’t regret having left my parents' house to be with you, I don’t regret anything that I did with you and for you. But the most important thing is that I don’t regret loving you.” And at that moment his eyes seemed to shine, with the glow it always had when he heard you say that loved him, and a smile threatened to leave his lips. “I love you, I cannot stand being without you anymore, I cannot bear to pretend I forgot you. I know what are the risks of being with you, but I don’t really care.”

“It's risky, baby ...”

"Life is risky, Jungkook, there's no point in always running the risk, one day we have to face them all. If we don’t take risks, we will not live." You said putting both hands on the back of the boy's neck, pulling him closer. "You always let me make my choices, so let me choose that too, let me choose to be with you."

And so he grabbed your face, sealing your lips in a passionate and loving kiss, a kiss that made your bodies wake up from all that sadness, making you both realize that that moment was real and not a hallucination of your minds.

"I need you." You whispered between his lips. "I love you. I need you now, Jungkook. I need to feel you inside me."

He moaned in response, moving away. He opened the car door and pulled the seat forward, throwing himself into the back seat, sitting up in the middle of it, with his legs spread wide. He flashed a wink and a smile at you before hitting his palms on his thighs, beckoning you to sit there. You went in and closed the door, just threw his jacket on the floor of the car. You ended up banging your head on the roof of the car and laughed as you lifted your dress up to your waist and placed one leg on either side of Jungkook's waist, sitting on his lap, putting pressure on his cock.

Your hands thrust into his hair as your lips were together again in a fierce kiss. Jungkook's hands came up to your waist, causing you to move and rub between your pussy and his hard jeans-covered cock, making you both groan with the sensation of pleasure. He broke the kiss, lowering his lips down your neck and shoulders, nibbling, sucking, licking and kissing your exposed skin as you moaned his name, lower than he would like.

“You look beautiful in this dress, but if you don’t get it off in the next two seconds, I'll tear it up.” He said with his hands on the hem of your dress, ready to take it off. You laughed, raised your arms a little, and let him take it out. “No bra? So naughty baby.” He whispered, grabbing your breasts and gently squeezing them into his hands. "You have no idea how much I missed it, my love.” Jungkook began to run his tongue between your breasts making your whole body shiver and a moan come from your lips.

“Ah Jungkookie.” You moaned grabbing his hair as you felt his tongue around one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.  “Please."

“Are you begging already, baby? I have not even started.”

“I need you, I missed you.”

“Me too, princess.” He whispered back to kiss you. You lifted your hip slightly, so he was able to open the zipper of his pants and push it down with his underwear. He gripped your waist while you used your hand to position him at your entrance. “So wet, baby. Oh fuck.” He groaned loudly as you sat down on his lap all the way in. It was so good that he held you still for a few seconds, not wanting to cum so fast. "So tight baby, damn it! So wet.” He moaned still holding you. “My dick missed that pussy.”

“Can I move? I need more, love."

“You want to ride on that dick, baby?" You groaned in response and he let go of your waist, giving you permission to do what you wanted. So you started to move on his lap, rolling, bouncing and rubbing as he clung to your neck and squeezed your breasts. “Yeah baby, use this dick to fuck that tight pussy, like the greedy little bitch you are.”

“I love it.” You groaned smiling and squinting, while increasing the speed of movement.

"Do you love that dick, baby?"

"I love this dick, baby. I love it when it fills me, oh shit." You moaned as Jungkook moved his hips toward yours, taking a deep thrust. "Fuck me, Jungkook, fast and hard."

"As you wish." He whispered, grabbed your waist and began to move against you, using his strength to get in and out of you. You moaned loudly, grabbing his shoulders and closing your eyes, just feeling the pleasurable friction between you.

"Baby ..." You groaned tightly around his cock. “Oh God."

“I'm almost there too, Princess ... Cum for me, my love.”

And without him having to say another word, you tossed your head back, digging your nails into the back of his neck as you felt the surge of ecstasy running through your body, making you shout his name and your legs tremble. Jungkook tightened his hands around your hips and groaned as you let his liquid inside you, slowing his movements until it stopped, both of you without air. He hugged your body, placing his face between your breasts as you thrust your face into his hair.

"Can I still be your bride?" You whispered through his hair. Jeon pulled back a little, pulling the hair from your sweaty face, before stroking your cheek and smiling.

"You never ceased to be."

He is here. That was the first thought you had when you woke up the next morning. You turned to the side and saw Jungkook sleeping soundly. The night before was tiring for both of you. You smiled and kissed him on the cheek before rising slowly so as not to wake the boy by your side. You looked at his watch and it was still eight o'clock in the morning.

You went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. You couldn’t take your smile off your face, being with him again was as if the light had entered your life again, even if it came in the form of a fallen angel.

As soon as you stepped on the floor of the living room, the doorbell rang and you frowned, staring at the door. You were not expecting anyone, and it was Saturday morning, who would be there that hour?

Forgetting that you were wearing only panties and bra, you opened the door, facing Jimin. You stared at him and he didn’t look happy at all, he had his eyebrows down and his jaw clenched. When he got there and saw Jungkook's car parked, he knew something was happening, but seeing you in your panties and bra confirmed his theory.

“Are you together again?” He asked dryly and directly. You sighed, you had no reason to deny it, so you just shook your head. Jimin glanced at the street, before turning red toward her. "I thought we were making some progress, (Y/N). I thought ... I thought you liked me.”

"And I like you, Jimin. But I love him. And you knew that from the beginning ...”

"He hurt you, (Y/N), for god sake.” Jimin screamed, throwing his hands up, his eyes wide, unable to believe that this was happening. "Don’t you remember how you cried every night because of him? Because I remember it very well. You cannot want this for your life, he will only hurt you even more ...”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook's voice behind you caught the attention of the two of you. You turned back, watching him coming down the stairs, a furious look on his face. His gaze did not leave Jimin as he walked toward him. Standing next to you, he held out the shirt he was about to wear for you and you picked it up, confused as to why he was giving you that, that's when you looked at your own body and saw that you were all in your underwear. You hurried to get dressed while Jungkook stopped in front of the door, blocking Jimin's sight.

“You know you'll only hurt her.” Jimin said, not intimidated by the psychopathic look Jungkook carried on his face.

"I don’t care what you think. Go away while you still can.” Jungkook growled, pointing to the street.

"And if I do not want …"

"Jimin." You pushed Jungkook gently to the side, and looked at the blonde. "Please do not make it any harder. You know what will happen if you try to make me choose between you and him.”

Jimin seemed to be taken aback by your response. He then sighed and shook his head. He turned his back and walked down the porch stairs to his car and out of there. Jungkook grabbed your arm and pulled you inside, closing the door and pushing you against it. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the wood, making you breath out of breath.

Jungkook sighed heavily and studied your face for a few seconds. It was visible that he was annoyed at something, you just couldn’t tell if it was because you were in your panties and bra when you opened the door, or because the person who saw you half naked, was another man.

"You fucked him?" He asked, making you eyes widen. You did not have to answer, because your facial expression said it all. Jungkook narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, releasing the air heavily.

"You told me to stay with someone else."

"So now you decide to do what I say?" He asked in a low, almost menacing voice, making your whole body shiver. Oh he was angry.

"That depends, if I like your order, yes, I will obey." You said petulant. Jungkook's face darkened and you lost your breath as you faced those big black eyes staring at you like a hunter looks at his prey. At that moment Jeon thought of a thousand and one ways to deal with that situation, but only one of these solutions would please you both, so he took a step back and pointed to the couch.

“Put your hands on the arm of the sofa and bend over, now!” He commanded his voice low, his eyes clouded by something you knew well, desire. You just blinked a few times and obeyed. So your ass stayed up, and you waited anxiously to know what he would do to you.

"You know how much annoys me know that another man touched you as I do?" He asked stopping behind you, holding your hips and pushing him against you. You sighed and nodded, confirming that you did. "And yet you did?" He asked and you nodded again. Jungkook let out a cold chuckle and stroked your shriveled skin. "Did you enjoy fucking Jimin?" He asked and you nodded again, letting out a loud moan as Jeon hit you with a strong slap in the ass, which made your pussy clench instantly. "I'm going to ask you again, baby, did you enjoy fucking Jimin, hm?" He asked in a low voice, now caressing and admiring the mark his hand formed on your skin. “Did you like his cock fucking that tight pussy?" You nodded again and yelled as his hand hit you once more in the ass. You started to gasp. It was impressive as with him, your horny never had limits. "Are you sure about that, baby?" He growled and you shook your head. "No?"

"No."

"Then why did you let him touch what is mine?"

“Because you asked me to forget you. And I was trying." You answered by moving your head a little to the side, looking at him over your shoulder, staring into dark eyes, full of jealousy and lust. "But nothing and no one could make me forget you."

"That doesn’t get you out of punishment, baby. You want to know what I'm going to do with you?" You nodded frantically. "I'll show you who owns this pussy. I'll fuck you until the neighbors have decorated my name. I'm going to fuck you until you forget that shit and remember that I'm the only one who can make you cum. And at the end of it, baby, you will not even remember the name of that little bastard. "

Oh boy.

The noise of your panties being ripped made you whole body tremble with desire. Jungkook wouldn’t even need to touch you to get you wet because you were already soaked.

"Look at that pussy, all wet, and I didn’t even touch you baby. My slaps left you like this, love? Or it was the fact that you saw me drowning in jealousy? "

"Both," you whispered, feeling his index finger caress your entrance.

"I'm about to fuck you in a way I've never done before. Can you handle it?”  He asked and you looked over your shoulder again, nodding. It was when you felt him penetrating hard, causing you to open and tighten around him at the same time.

"Shit," you murmured, rolling your eyes and squeezing your fingers on the arm of the sofa, moving your hips to get used to it inside you. Your cunt pulsing and threatening to give you an orgasm faster than expected.

"Give me your hair," he ordered, and you obeyed, lifting your head and tossing your hair back. Jungkook gathered each of your strands of hair in his hand and then wrapped it in his fist, pulling them lightly. "Are you ready?"

"Yes" You answered.

Jungkook laughed before using his wandering hand to grasp your waist. When he began to fuck you, you tried to hold back your groans, but the first few seconds he was in you, you were filled with pleasure and did not hold back, groaning loudly as Jungkook bit his lip and concentrated on digging deeply and with strength in you.

With every thrust, you went up to heaven and came back.

He pulled your hair hard and growled, making you bend your back and stand as he fucked you from behind.

"Say my name," he growled in your ear.

"Jungkook."

"Scream my name, now," he ordered, thrusting harder.

"Jungkook ... fuck." You screamed as your legs began to shake, bringing your hands back and holding onto Jungkook's hips, wanting even more movement, even stronger.

"Who you belong to?" He asked in your ear.

"To you."

"Who this fucking pussy belong to, (Y/N)?"

"You, Jungkook."

"That's it baby, now I want you to be a good girl and cum over my dick." And so he pushed your shoulder, causing you to bend again, loosening your hair and grabbing your waist, popping it in, making your moans grow even louder until you finally jumped in a burst of pleasure, screaming his name, not being able to remember anything else, as he'd said would happen.

Things were starting to get back to normal again.

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

Ride Or Die - Chapter 15 (m)

— pairing |Jeon Jungkook/Reader x Jung Hoseok/Reader — word c |13,399 — genre |Mafia au!, Angst, smut — summary | As always, nothing in your life after meeting Jungkook could be easy, once again you are forced to endure a loss. — warnings/tags |Adult content, Violence, alcoholic beverages, low slang words, blood, death.

— A/N | Sorry for taking so long to update. I hope you like it, if possible comment, leave your like and reblog. Thank you very much to all my readers. Little fox is a fictional city.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | ‘15′ | 16 | 17 Season Finale | 

When you woke up, Jungkook was not at your side. The room was still dark and looking at the clock on the nightstand, you realized it was still four in the morning. It was still raining outside, because you still heard the sound of rain falling. You got up, you were dressed in the shirt he had loaned you after taking a shower. You walked to the bathroom and didn't find him there. When you came out in the hall, the lights were off, and you didn't mind turning on, just walked by and went down the stairs. The door to the room was wide open. You frowned and walked over to it, just poking your head out, confused as to why the door was like that, and ended up finding Jungkook propped up on the porch railing. He was barefoot and shirtless.

He was staring at the empty street, raindrops hitting the ground like puddles, the noise was relaxing, but he was tense. You were not the only one going through a maddening moment, you had to remember that he was also involved in all that mess. You walked towards him, hugging him from behind and for a moment he tensed his muscles, but as soon as he looked over his shoulder and saw you, he relaxed a little.

"What are you doing out here?" You asked with a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "It is cold, you will end up getting sick."

"I'm just thinking, I guess." He said calmly, before looking back at the rain. You leaned next to him, watching his features. He was worried and thoughtful at the same time. You don't remember having seen him like this before. "She was so close to you ... If she had ... If she hurt you ..." Then he stopped, closing his eyes tightly and clenching his jaw at the same time he closed his hands in fists and swallowed in dry. So that was the problem. Shadow. "And that asshole, instead of putting a knife in her brain, just had sex with her. I’m so fucking angry, right now.”

"Hey." You held his face, making him look at you, those black eyes full of fury, the red ears, he was starting to have a fit of hate. “It’s okay now.” You tried to comfort him.

"But what if ..." He started again, but you moved towards him, putting your lips together, keeping him silent. Your hands went down to his shoulders and you felt the tension lessen until you felt zero when his hands went to your waist. It was the first time in days that it was just the two of you, without Century, without fear, without threats, just you. "I love you more than anything in this life." He whispered through your lips and you just moaned something, making him feel chills through his body.

"Pick me up." You asked by dropping the kisses onto his neck and scratching the back of his neck with the tips of your nails. He groaned and grabbed your thighs, pulling you up as if you weighed nothing. You tightened your thighs around his waist and dropped a hand between the two of you, scratching his abdomen and touching him over his pants.

He smirked. "Let’s go to the bedroom."

"No." He frowned, pulling his face back and looking confused. "I want it here."

He laughed and spun around, placing you sitting on the porch railing, staying between your legs, while your hands went inside his pants and massaged his cock. He kissed your cheek, suppressing the moans that insisted on leaving his throat as you moved your hand up and down, no longer needing to stimulate him since with you, he was always hard as a stone.

"Someone will end up seeing us." He whispered in your ear, looking at the other houses on the street. You didn't answer him, just pulled his pants down a little, letting out his cock, and lifted up the shirt you were wearing, letting him see your pussy still hidden by your black panties. Then you took one of his hands and put it over your panties, making him gasp and bite his lips.

"Does it look like I care?" You asked looking at him innocently, making him feel as if all his muscles were turning and his cock was throbbing in your hand. He pulled the panties aside, and you groaned as you felt his icy fingers reach your clit.

"I really love it when you get wet without me even touching you."

"Just fuck me, for God's sake." You begged and he laughed.

"Hasty little girl." He whispered before he positioned himself and entered you, eliciting a long moan from you, making you lay your face against his chest to muffle the sound. Jeon held your hip as he moved his towards yours, gradually increasing the speed until he was thrusting hard, and you kissed him in order to not scream and wake up the whole neighborhood. He continued to kiss you, leaving one hand on your hip, while the other alternated between squeezing your breasts and holding your neck. And every second you got even more wet, and you knew it wasn’t a thing of the moment but a thing of Jungkook, only he was able to leave you at that level of excitement. Lust was taking over you. You held his hair, pulling it, making him grunt between your lips and bite it, while the hand on your hip tightened even more.

"I want more." You whispered and he understood well. Jeon picked you up and carried you inside. With his foot, he kicked the door shut and put you on the floor, with your chest against the door. He finished taking off his clothes and stopped behind you, he pulled your shirt up, throwing it on the floor, kissing your shoulder and running the kisses down your back, making you squirm against the cold wood that made your nipples hard and a little uncomfortable. He grabbed the lace and pulled it down slowly, nibbling your skin, and tossing your panties over his shoulder before standing up again.

He pulled your hips back, entering you again, moving slowly, until he was pumping into you, making you do little whimpers, that drove him crazy, and he tried to concentrate to not  lose control, but the lust he felt was stronger than his self-control. He then used one hand to hold your neck while the other was on your shoulder, increasing the strength of his thrusts, going deeper and deeper, making you scream.

When you felt your core tightened, you lost control of your breath, gasping and punching the door, whimpering as your body threatened to squirm. Jungkook felt you were close to the edge and pushed his body against yours, pinning you to the door, leaving room just so that his hand could stay between your body and the wood, placing his fingers over your soaked clit and pressing it while making circular movements.

"Oh my god" You squeaked, his lips going to your ear, nibbling it while his other hand tightened on your neck. "Fuck" You screamed when you felt your muscles contracting and your legs trembling, letting the weight of his body on yours hold you upright as your legs started to go soft as gelatin after reaching your orgasm. And he lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and marking it while pumping without hesitation in your pussy that now more than ever dripped and tightened around his cock.

"You feel so good, babe." He rasped. "Shit." He growled when he spurts of cum inside you, and stopped moving when he buried himself completely in the tight hole between your legs. His hand coming to rest on your belly and the hand that held your neck, he leaned against the door beside your head. Your hearts were racing just like your breaths, it was as if you had stopped breathing for a moment and only now remembered that needed air to survive.

You turned your face, looking at him over your shoulder, seeing his face covered in sweat, his bangs pinned to his forehead, practically covering his black eyes, and amid the expression of post-orgasm tiredness, the smile came. His white, straight teeth forming that bunny smile, now full of innocence and joy, making your heart melt and once again realize that you were completely in love with that man and no one would ever be able to change your mind.

When Jeon moved out of you, you could feel the hot liquid running down your legs, and he had seen it too, and for a moment he just stopped and stared at the scene intensively, his brain sending spasms to his dick, wanting to let it hard again. He laughed to shake away the chills in his spine, he knew you needed to rest. He then helped you up the stairs and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. Shortly afterwards he had put you to bed and you fell asleep again. He looked at the clock that said almost six in the morning, it would be dawn soon, but with the rain, it would still be very dark.

Knowing that he couldn't sleep with all the thoughts and concerns in his head, he went downstairs taking the clothes you had left in the living room and put them in the laundry. Then he used a cloth to clean up the mess you had made near the door. He returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed beside you, propping his back on the headboard. Jungkook couldn't express how happy he was to have you in his life, and he couldn't wait until all that mess was over for him to be able to marry you, and make everything official, he couldn't wait to be officially yours.

He then lay down under the blanket and gently pulled you onto his chest, listening to you sigh softly and squirm, snuggling into his chest and continuing to sleep.

When you woke up Jungkook was sleeping next to you. It was just after nine in the morning and your cell phone kept buzzing because of the messages. Becca was talking about the trip you mentioned days ago.

"My god, the world is falling outside." Becca said as she looked out of the university cafeteria window. It had not stopped raining yet and it was expected to rain until the end of the week. “This is really a good week to go to another city.” At the end of classes, the three of you sat down at the college cafeteria to talk about the destination of your trip the next day. They decided to go to the beach and surprisingly Becca had already planned and had even spoken to one of the owners of a beach house during the break between classes.

"So, you and Hoseok kissed." Suhee brought up the question that had been hammering in her head since Yoongi had come to the college days ago. You took your eyes off the rain and frowned at the two girls sitting opposite you who were looking curiously.

"We didn't kiss. He stuck his tongue in my mouth, without my permission, while he held me pinned against a wall."

"That sounds sexy." The girl laughed mischievously, making you and Becca roll yours eyes.

"This is not sexy, it is harassment."

"Come on, are you saying you didn't like it? I remember when Hoseok and I used to go out, he has an extraordinary kiss. I get wet just thinking about it."

Becca snorted.

"You went out once, you only kissed once. And now I understand why. He should have been in love with (Y/N) at that time and he only kissed you to try to make her jealous."

"Look girls, I don't want to talk about this." You said going back to your coffee. "You have no idea of the headache that is causing me."

"Yeah, it must be a headache to have two bad boys literally fighting with fists and teeth for you." Suhee teased her, causing you to give her a deadly look.

"Don't forget about Jimin." Becca whispered, holding back her laughter when she saw you snort and lean against the chair, crossing your arms.

"Jimin is not a bad boy, he is a playboy. He is not on that list. He shouldn't even know what it's like to punch with those cute little hands."

If only they knew that they don't really know anything about Jimin. You thought.

And while they were making fun of something else that would obviously make you angry, you looked back at the street in the campus and at the same moment Jungkook's car stopped in front of the buildings. You had talked and he agreed to let you go if he went with you. Before, you would argue that he was being very possessive but knowing the circumstances that Shadow could try something against you and end up hurting your friends in the process, you ended up giving in.

He got out of the car, he was wearing his casual outfit, black clothes, leather jacket and boots. The hair was tossed forward, the bangs covering part of his eyes, you knew it was time to have it cut, but he was so sexy with long hair, that you would wait a little longer to speak about it. He was carrying a black umbrella in his hand, and he didn't seem to mind getting wet in that rain. When he left your sight, you knew he had entered the building, so you just stared at a spot behind the girls, waiting for him to pass through the cafeteria door. And when he did, as expected, all the girls who were there, even those who worked in the cafeteria, stopped what they were doing to admire his beauty.

Jungkook stopped for a moment, looking around the place, and as soon as his eyes fell on you, he smiled, showing everyone that happy smile he only had when he was in your presence. And that only made the other girls melt and wished to pass out in his arms, so he could carry them with those strong arms. You smirked. It was like high school again. And he was so sexy that you almost couldn't control yourself, just wanted to jump on that lap, and let him destroy you again.

"I need to go, see you tomorrow?" You asked getting up and picking up your backpack. You didn't wait for them to answer, you just walked away leaving the two confused, but as soon as they turned and saw Jungkook, they understood your hurry. When you approached, he held your face with one hand and the other went up to your waist, pulling you to a kiss that caused envy and whispers among the other girls.

Then he put his arm around your shoulders, obliviously to people's eyes, and guided you out of the canteen, opening the umbrella so you wouldn't get wet on the way to the car. After entering, he slapped you on the butt and then closed the door, throwing the umbrella in the back seat and entering the driver's side.

"What?" He asked after starting the car and seeing that you were looking at him with a playful smile.

“You’re all wet.”

“Well babe, it’s raining.” He laugh.

"I am wet and it is not because of the rain." You said sitting on your side on the bench, biting your fingertip as you spread your legs for him, showing off the red panties you were wearing under your skirt.

“Oh baby girl, I guess we’ll have a long ride back home.”

After talking to the gang members, after reconciling with Jungkook saying he would only stay there until they killed Shadow, Hoseok got in his car and drove away, going around the city aimlessly. Once again, he didn't know what to do, and it was all Jungkook's fault, for having met you first. His instincts told him to kill the Century leader, but something else, maybe his conscience, or maybe his heart, told him to let it go, to not cause any more damage to you. He didn't want you to hate him, he never wanted to do anything to make you cry, and after last night's scene, with you lying on the floor, having a panic attack between your crying sobs, he knew he needed to get rid of that feeling  to not hurt you again. He just didn't know how. He hadn't slept with anyone in months because he just couldn't get you out of his head.

The songs that played on his radio were melancholy and dramatic. And to his surprise, he liked it. It was the kind of music he would like to hear if he were alone with you in a room. The melodies were calm and relaxing, but he didn't feel at all relaxed because he soon realized where he was really heading. To your house. He knew that Jungkook would be there, but he needed to talk to you, he had to clear things up.

When he turned the corner, to his surprise, Jeon's car wasn’t there.

Could you not be there too?

He parked in front of his house and got out of the car. As soon as he approached the porch, he heard loud music coming from inside the house. He rang the bell once, twice, three times but received no answer. You were probably not listening because of the volume of the music. Moving away from the entrance and looking up, he saw that your bedroom window was open. Hoseok did not think much, he climbed and moved up on the porch roof. Reaching your window, he took a boost and used the strength of his arms, lifting, moving one leg into the window and sitting on the ledge.

As soon as he passed his chest inside, and was about to enter the room completely, he stopped with one leg hanging outside the window when he saw one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his life. You stepping out of the bedroom bathroom in a bikini and stopping in front of the mirror.

Hoseok didn't expect that one day he would see you wearing only underwear, so at that moment his body paralyzed and he could only stare. His cheeks went red as well as his ears. His eyes darkened and he felt his cock twist inside his pants. Again, his imagination came to torture him. He could imagine you coming out of the sea wearing that, your body wet, your hair soaked, walking sensuously on the sand while all the guys drooled over your beauty, but then you would approach him and kiss him, showing everyone else that you were his. And imagining this, Hoseok lost his balance and fell backwards into the room, his back bones booming against the wooden floor, making you jump and scream looking back, seeing the boy grunting, lying on the floor near your bed. Your first instinct was to run to him and help him get up.

"Hoseok, are you okay?" You asked holding his hand and helping him to his feet, who now had red cheeks, ashamed.

"Yeah yeah." He said scratching the back of his neck and taking a step away from you. "I was just ...I mean..." Spying on you like a complete pervert? He thought about saying it, but you probably should have noticed that already.

"Why were you in my window?" You asked with a frown.

"I knocked on the door but you didn't answer, so I went in." He said pointing to the window with his thumb.

"So, you decided to break into my house instead of calling me and asking me to open the door." You said crossing your arms, making your breasts even more attractive to him who failed to disguise the desire to squeeze them and stared at them for long seconds. When you realized that he was not looking at your eyes but at your breasts, you squeaked and tried to use your arms to cover yourself. "Your pervert." You ran towards the bathroom and slammed the door while he started laughing, thinking you were cute all embarrassed.

“Not now, boner.” He whispered looking at his own pants, seeing that his dick was hard and it was very visible.

"So, are you going to tell me what you came here to do or what?" He heard your voice ask and shortly after you left the bathroom dressed in shorts, a long T-shirt and carrying your bikini, placing it in the suitcase with the others clothes. "Shouldn't you be with your new girlfriend?" You teased him and he gave you a mischievous look, wanting to put you against the wall and use that smart mouth of yours. He would go crazy, and it would be your fault.

"Are you jealous?"

“As if.”

"I came to talk, but I wasn't expecting to be received that well. If I had known you used to walk in bathing suits at home, I would have invaded your room more often.” He said with a wink. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the cell phone on top of the dresser, turning the music down.

"Look, I'm busy. I have to finish packing my bags, and I have to wait for Jungkook to return to go to Century home. So, if you stop wasting my time with your sexual comments, I would appreciate it."

"Oh, poisonous. I like it." He hissed. "And just for your information, I didn't have sex with her." He said bluntly and you looked up at him at once, surprised at what you heard. Hoseok threw himself on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and looking in your direction, very pleased with the look of relief with which you were looking at him.

“Okay, that’s… unexpected.” You said in amazement, no longer caring about the suitcase, becoming more interested in what he was saying, sitting on the bed next to him who was happy to have your full attention.

"Yeah, she really wanted to, but even if I like a lot of pussy, I didn’t want to fuck hers."

“And why not? Come on, she looks like a fucking angel, even I would want to fuck her if I were a guy.”

He laughed. Sometimes he forgot that you were innocent in some ways.

“She’s not you, (Y/N).” He said and looked at you so intently that you had to look away, uncomfortable. “You don’t need to say anything. I know you don’t feel for me what I feel for you, and I understand it. I'm sorry for what I did, I should never have touched you without your permission and I'm not going to do that again. I don’t want to lose you." You smiled in response, looking at him again, and it totally warmed Hoseok's heart that thought you would never smile at him like that again. But he should know that you wouldn't hate him forever, you were too good for that, you were too good for him and you were certainly too good for Jungkook. Lucky son of a bitch. He thought before smiled at you. “Jungkook must have already told you that she found out that I had declared myself to you because there was an informant of hers infiltrating the security team that Dean loaned us to do the rounds at Century home that night.” And you looked confused, once again totally surprised by what you had heard. Hoseok gasped. It was obvious that Jungkook was not going to tell you that, after all, it would take some of Hoseok's guilt and you wouldn’t be more upset thinking that he had betrayed your trust. Clever. He thought. "Anyway, she went to me to propose that I help her make you and Jungkook break up, so she would have him back and I would be with you."

"And what did you say?"

He scoffed. "I said no, of course.”

“But...You had lipstick on your lips that day. And she was wearing your shirt."

“After I said no, she started to undress, saying she would convince me anyway, she kissed me, but I pushed her away, that's when you rang the doorbell.” He said staring at the ceiling. Hoseok was silent for a few seconds, wondering whether to tell what she had said to him or not. "She said that you will never want to have anything with me while Jungkook is on the way." And he laughed. "As if I didn't already know that."

"Hobi ..." You tried to speak, but he interrupted you.

"I think she knows something that we don't. She is overconfident that her plans will work." And he looked at you again. "There is something wrong in the middle of this."

"And what could it be?"

"I don't know. But I will find out." And he smiled again. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

And you were silent again, only the music from your cell phone was heard above your breath. You were upset about all that, he knew that. He just wanted to find a way to make you feel better, but at the moment, the only thing he could offer was a hug and a few words to make you less worried. But after what had happened, after what he had done, would you accept his embrace? Would you think he was going too far? If he asked you for a hug, would you feel pressured? He didn't know and he didn't have the courage to ask, so he just stood there, while you went back to organizing your suitcase.

Later, you called Jungkook, saying that you were going to the Century house, and he asked you to wait for him, because he didn't want you to go around town alone. When you said Hoseok was with you, you managed to hear him growl on the other end of the line, saying that he would be waiting for you at the entrance to the house. It was no different. He was propped up in his car outside the garage waiting for you.

When you got out of the car, you walked towards him while Hoseok took your suitcase out of the trunk and carried it inside, without even exchanging a look with Jeon.

"Did he touch you?" Jeon asked when you approached, entering his arms.

"No. He just wanted to talk. Apologize for what happened. He told me that he didn't do anything with Shadow and that he regretted kissing me without my permission." He just mumbled something and gave you a calm kiss on the lips. "Did you pack your bags?"

"About that, I talked to the guys, I better not go with you."

“What? Why?”

“If I go with you, Shadow can do something dangerous and stupid against you. If you go with the guys and I stay, the chances of her trying to hurt you are reduced by 50%.”

You snorted. "I was so excited to go on this trip with you."

"Me too, babe. I'm dying to see you in a bikini, but it's safer that way." He said taking his hands to your arms, stroking them. "Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung are going with you. And your friends don't like me, you'll have more fun if you don't have me around to piss them off.”

When you entered the house, you were both going to the room when you passed a room where Yoongi and Namjoon were. He folded some clothes and put them in a medium suitcase that was on the bed, while Min Yoongi was lying on the armchair complaining. You stopped and looked, finding Yoongi's grimace cute as he stamped his feet on the floor like a spoiled child.

"I don't like the sun, why the hell do I have to go to the beach?" He whimpered like a child and Namjoon rolled his eyes, angry and sick his friend's whining. "I went to the beach 5 years ago and I can still find sand in some hole in my body."

"Aish, Yoongi, get yourself together." Namjoon said turning to him. "Go to your room to pack your bags or tomorrow we will take you only with your clothes on and you will be forced to go shopping with Taehyung."

Yoongi gasped, looking offended by his friend's threat and put his hand on his chest dramatically. And that just made him look even cuter and you put your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing and getting their attention. But apparently, he had already seen you and when his eyes went to you, it doubled in size.

"Yah, this is all your fault." And he pointed in your direction accusingly. Only then did Namjoon turn to you and smile.

"Hi (Y/N), don't mind him, he's just being dramatic. We are very happy to go to the beach with you, we haven't been to one in years."

"Exactly and I would love to not mess up my historic about not going to the beach, but apparently I am being forced." The platinum boy raised his hand, sliding further into the chair, as if he were sinking into a great depression. And that just made you laugh even more. Taehyung then passed by you, giving you a kiss on the cheek and then throwing himself on the bed, hindering Namjoon to pick up the clothes, making the older man roll his eyes again.

"Why are you taking coats? We are going to the beach, not Alaska."

"I swear to god that one day I will roll my eyes so hard that I will go blind, get out of here, asshole." Namjoon said pushing Tae who rolled off the bed and dropped on the floor with an ouch, while Yoongi stopped making faces just to laugh at the boy who got up all sly saying that he would tell Jin what he had done and ran out the door, hiding behind you when the elder threatened to throw a shoe at him. "And I am forewarned. It is not because we are going to the beach that it cannot rain there."

"Oh, hey (Y/N)." Seokjin appeared behind you smiling and carrying some kits with sunscreen and creams in his hands. He entered the room and placed them on the bed. "Are you excited for the trip tomorrow?" And before you could answer, Yoongi grunted from where he was, making Seokjin look at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before turning to you. "I have some sedatives in stock. I'll give you some. Use two on the way and two on the way back and you won't have to worry about the child there.” He said pointing his thumb at Yoongi who snorted while the rest of you laughed.

"Oh, c’mon, it will be fun, Yoongi." You said entering the room and approaching him. You knelt in front of him who had his legs spread and put your hands on his thighs. He dropped his eyes to you and stared, waiting for you to explain to him why it would be so much fun. “There will be many tight bikinis, drinks, parties, dancing. You will be able to enjoy some time with your friends; we will both be able to get to know each other better and will also spend time with Becca.” And his red cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the other guys, who started making fun of Yoongi for being embarrassed when you said your friend's name.

“Yah, yah, fuck you.” He said showing the middle finger to everyone. And he looked at you again, but this time he smiled. "Well, I think I better go pack my bags."

It was late and you couldn't sleep. You had rolled over in bed many times trying to get a comfortable position, but you just couldn't. Not wanting to wake up Jungkook, you got up and left the room. After going to the kitchen and having a glass of water, you went up again, this time going to the games room, and sitting on the couch, crossing your legs. You had so much to think about. The end of the year was near, you did well in the exams, but even so you didn't think you were giving enough of yourself in your studies.

So many things had happened in that short period of time, and thinking that this time you and Jungkook would probably be one step closer to getting rid of that psycho, made you anxious. You just wanted to take the time to think about your wedding, which was supposed to be at the end of the year, but due to everything that was happening, they would probably postpone it.

You sighed, almost defeated. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was so much easier when you just had to worry about your parents not liking Jungkook.

In the bedroom, Jungkook turned on the bed, looking for you to hug, but when he felt your side of the bed empty, he opened his eyes, having no sign of you around. He sat on the bed, yawning and seeing under the doorway that the hall light was on. He stood up, scratching the back of his neck and leaving the room. He thought about going downstairs and looking for you in the kitchen, but he stopped walking when he noticed that the door to the game room was open and the light was on, but he didn't hear any of the guys' voices coming from there. He narrowed his eyes and walked over there, seeing you sitting on the couch, staring at nothing.

"Babe?" Your boyfriend's deep, sleepy voice caught your eye, making you look at the door where he was standing in, scratching an eye, with messy hair and bare chest. "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep so I came here. I didn’t want to wake you up, "

"Love, if something's upsetting you, you have to tell me." He came over, sitting next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "You don't have to be afraid to wake me up in the middle of the night if you're not feeling well, I'm here just to make you feel good."

"It's just the usual thoughts. Nothing too new." You shrugged again, sighing tiredly. "Sometimes I think things are never really going to be okay."

"Yes, it will, princess." Jungkook pulled you into a hug, letting you bury your face in his neck as he kissed your hair and caressed your back. "Please try not to think about it, okay? Let me deal with the more complicated questions. I just want you to have fun on the beach, I want you to continue to live happy, okay? Everything will be fine, me and the guys, we are working on it. "

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt. You, the girls and the boys are very important to me, I don't want to lose you like my parents." you whispered

"No one will get hurt, I promise. Don't you trust me?"

"With my life."

The next day, the boys were putting their bags inside Taehyung's car while you were propped up in Jungkook's car kissing him. His hands went up and down your body, but always stopped on your face or neck, and every time his tongue touched yours, you pulled him closer and closer to you, your body asking, begging him to touch you with those efficient fingers.

"You sure you can't go?" You asked between his lips and he just shook his head, he running the kisses down your neck, the volume in his pants visibly saying that he was as excited as you were at that moment. “Gosh, I love you so much. I'm already missing you.”

"I hate to disturb the lovebirds, but it's time." Namjoon shouted tapping his fingers on his wristwatch while Taehyung and Yoongi were already in the car.

"You have stay close to them all the time, okay? Don't leave their sight." He asked and you nodded. "See you in a week, babe."

"Please be careful. Don't kill yourself and don't try to kill Hoseok either."

"I can’t promise that." He said laughing, giving you a peck before letting you go and accompany you to Taehyung's car. After you got into the passenger seat, he closed the door and leaned against the window looking into the car, receiving a okay from everyone inside, as they already knew what he was going to say. "Have a nice trip. And rest a lot, because when you get back, I'm going to tie you to that bed and fuck you hard for a straight month." That sentence made you shiver, but it made the other guys cringe.

"That was completely unnecessary." Namjoon said perplexed.

"I am going to puke." Yoongi said with disgust, grimacing and putting his hand on the belly.

"I need to get laid." Taehyung said last, making the rest of you laugh.

Jungkook then walked away from the car and let Taehyung drive. He watched the car go away and as soon as it turned the corner, disappearing from his sight, he turned towards the house, it was time to start working.

You had called Becca earlier, telling her that the boys had decided to go with you. She was happy to know that Jeon was not going, but she was even happier to know that Yoongi would. So instead of meeting them at Suhee's house, you found yourself on the main highway of the city where you went on to the city that was just over three hours away.

The way in Taehyung's car was full of laughter, Namjoon trying to explain to the boys why they shouldn't drink salt water and Yoongi complaining and whining at the same time. It was a mess. When you finally arrived at the beach house, it was past noon and Yoongi complained that he was hungry.

"Dude, we were at a restaurant thirty minutes ago, you didn't eat more because you didn't want to, so stop fucking complaining." Namjoon said widening his eyes at Yoongi who just rolled his eyes and snorted out of the car.

"Fuck, what a view." Taehyung said looking around, stopping in front of the sea, seeing both the beauty of that place and the beautiful women walking in bikini on the sand.

"So? What do you guys think?" Becca and Suhee approached you who were now looking out to sea.

"It is wonderful." You said, admired.

"I've never seen so much beautiful women together like this." Taehyung laughed.

"Aish, there is too much sand." Yoongi complained and Namjoon looked at him with a threatening look. "Can we get in? This sun is hot and I can feel this sand entering between my fingers.”

"You are wearing sneakers, you asshole."

Yoongi looked at him with animosity, clearly not giving a damn what his friend was saying.

"And?"

Namjoon took a deep breath for a couple of seconds before turning to you and smiling. And soon after he scowl, and hup on Yoongi who realized what his friend would do and got away from the car, going into defensive position, raising his arms in front of his body with his fists clenched.

"Don't even think about it. I make you pass out in two seconds."

"Then do it right away, because at least I don't have to hear you complain any longer." Namjoon growled and advanced against his friend, you just laughed and motioned for your friends to enter the house, that would take time to end.

"It only has three bedrooms?" Suhee asked as soon as they entered the bedroom corridor, on the second floor.

"Yes, but they are all suites at least." Becca said. "I hope you know that I will share a room with …"

"Yoongi" You and Suhee said together, making the other girl startle.

"Yeah, we already know. Guess we’re going to be roommates, (Y/N)." Said the girl, entering one of the rooms while the other two followed.

"Come on, Suhee, you could sleep with one of Yoongi's friends. They seem to be nice."

She gasped with irony. "No thanks. They must be in love with (Y/N) too." You narrowed your eyes at her, making her laugh. "But seriously, the tallest one is handsome, but he looks like a nerd. And the other looks like a child. Two asses. I like bad boys, you know.”

Oh, if she knew what I know, she would never call them asses. You thought.

"Well, I'm going to talk to the guys. Do you know if there's anything in the kitchen? Yoongi said he was hungry."

"The pantry is full; I'll see if I can make him a sandwich."

"They're not even dating and she's already cooking for him." Suhee scoffed, making you laugh as you left the room.

The first day at the beach was quiet. Except for the part where Namjoon and Taehyung waited for Yoongi to be distracted, and carried him screaming into the sea, throwing him inside with clothes and everything, leaving him soaked and furious. And while you and your friends chatted sitting in one of the kiosks, having cold drinks, Yoongi chased the other two boys through the sand, swearing that he would kill them as soon as he put his hands on them.

You had entered the sea once, you weren’t a good swimmer and even with your friends at your side, you decided to not abuse your luck. You were wearing the same bikini that Hoseok had seen you in, and that was getting a lot of attention. While your friends were bathing in the salt water, and Yoongi was still chasing the other two guys, you were alone at the kiosk, having the best Margarita of your life, when a man wearing only shorts stopped beside you, asking for a drink. You were too busy getting drunk and laughing at the hysterical screams of the platinum boy, that didn’t realize that the man was looking at you from head to toe.

“Hi” A voice said at your side. When looking, the man with golden hair and green eyes smiled at you. You were taken by surprise by the sudden interaction and analyzed it for a few seconds.

“Hey.” You nodded and went back to looking at your friends, laughing instantly when Yoongi reached Taehyung and kicked one of his legs, knocking him down, with his back on the sand. The three boys laughed. Yoongi wasn’t angry anymore, he was just having fun now.

"So ... are you here alone?" The man next to you asked and you just glanced at him, still focusing your attention on your friends, not at all interested in that man.

"No, I'm with some friends."

"Cool. Me too. I haven't been here for a long time. I have a beach house that I got from my parents and I thought it would be nice to relax a little. I think it was a good idea, because I ended up meeting you." And he laughed, which made you look at him with a frown for a few seconds, like he was a retarded or something, wondering what he was still doing there. You didn't answer, just took another sip of your drink, expecting him to realize that you had no desire to flirt with him or to get to know him. Turning your eyes to the beach, you met the three boys looking at you and talking while Taehyung pointed at the man next to you. And so, the three started walking towards you. "So, can I buy you a drink?"

"Dude, I'm not interested." You said looking at him. The expression on his face was one of pure surprise. It looked like you were the first girl to dump him. Yes, he was a handsome man, but he was not your type. Jungkook was your type.

"But you didn't even give me a chance to impress you." He said, looking offended. You sighed, turning to the bartender and waving, asking for another drink before turning to the surfer project.

“Look pal, you have no idea of the crazy and stupid things that I have seen, believe me, nothing you do will impress me. And I have a boyfriend, and he's the only one who can impress me every time I breathe. So, don't even try.”

"Ah, but I bet I can impress you, if you give me a chance." He said leaning forward a little and touching his hand that was resting on the counter. You were furious at the audacity of that man who thought he could touch you, and you pulled your hand away from his at the same moment you heard Yoongi's voice scream.

"Yah" The three boys stopped beside you, all looking with furious expressions and burning eyes that would intimidate anyone. "Back off.” He snarled. Even though he didn't understand exactly what was going on, but sensing the threat in Min Yoongi's words, the surfer project straightened his posture and took his hand away from the counter, keeping it away from you.

"What's going on? Who are you?"

"Her men." Taehyung said in a low, thick voice, and if he hadn't been like an older brother to you, you would have found him extremely sexy at that moment. You cocked your head, finding that conversation interesting, while Taehyung took a step forward, getting closer to the blonde one. “Don’t you fucking dare touch her again, or we're going to rip your fingers off."

"Sorry man, I didn't want to cause any inconvenience." The boy said standing up, tripping over his own feet, clearly believing Taehyung's threats.

"And always remember that when you think about touching a woman without her permission, she can have very dangerous boyfriends.” Namjoon shouted sitting on the bench beside you, while the man hurried away. You started to laugh while Taehyung and Yoongi hit a high five.

"So, are you my men?" You asked mockingly, Taehyung shot you a sassy look.

"You really didn't think you were just Jungkook’s, did you? You belong to all of us." he said, arching an eyebrow and shooting you a seductive look that you actually found adorable in his attempt to embarrass you or make you blush. Yoongi rolled his eyes, unwilling to soberly face the younger man's stupid attempts to be sexy and ordered a drink while Namjoon was already taking his. You were willing to embarrass him and knew how. You took your drink that the bartender had put up for you a few seconds before the boys approached to scare off the surfer project, and handed it to Taehyung to have a drink.

He took it and thanked you, taking a sip, without taking his eyes off you. Oh, silly boy.

"Do you remember the party we went to after you were shot last year?" You asked by leaning your back on the counter, putting your arm back and propping your elbows on top of it.

“How could I forget? I was shot!” He emphasized the end of the sentence and took another sip. This was the right time.

"After Jungkook dragged me out of the house, I yelled at him, saying that I should go back to the party and ride on your cock."

And the next scene made you laugh instantly. Taehyung's eyes widened and he spat out all the drink he had put in his mouth, right on top of Namjoon. Yoongi, who also had a drink in his mouth, swallowed at the same moment, but started to laugh madly at the situation of Namjoon's face and clothes and the killer face he looked at Taehyung, so he choked and started coughing like crazy. That caught the attention of several people around you, who looked confused and others looked with disgust at the scene.

Taehyung's face was red as a tomato just like his ears, and he seemed to be in shock, as you crouched and hugged your own belly while laughing, leaning forward and backwards, in a crisis of laughter that didn't seem to end.

“W-what did you just said?”

"Exactly what you heard, Tae." You wiped the tears from your eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths to stop laughing like crazy. As soon as you managed to calm down a little while Namjoon used napkins to clean his face and Yoongi covered his face with his hands, feeling ashamed of his friends, you got up and took a few steps towards Tae, stopping in front of him who still looked puzzled. "Think twice before trying to make me embarrassed, dear." And you patted him lightly on the face, passing him and going to meet your friends who were at sea, totally oblivious of what had happened.

It was almost three days since you were on the beach, you didn't talk to Jeon, he hadn't called since you left town. You missed him, but your friends were able to make you feel less lonely, dragging you to the kiosks and swimming in the sea.

It was already night, you and the others were gathered on the beach where a party was taking place. There were several people, some were jumping in the sea, others were just drinking.There was a lot of music and you were having a great time. Unlike most people there, were not wearing a bikini, but were wearing shorts, a top and sneakers. No one was really dressed up for that party.

It was close to midnight when fireworks started to explode across the sky, lighting it up. It only reminded you of New Year's Eve, when Jungkook proposed to you and you said Yes. You would like everything to go back to how it was before, just you and him, without the intervention of any homicidal psychopath.

You were so focused on seeing the lights of the fireworks flying over the sea that you didn't even notice when someone came up behind you and covered your eyes with their hands. You would have freaked out if that voice hadn't whispered in your ear.

“You look so fucking hot in this outfit, but would look too damn hotter without it.” And your whole body shivered, your knees went weak and you leaned back, leaning on his chest. Your heart beat faster when you saw that he was there with you.

“Who the hell gave your voice permission to sound so damn attractive?” You asked, turning your face and looking over your shoulder, seeing Jungkook smile, you could see by brightness of his eyes that he was happy to see you and you would never deny that your whole body was happy to see him too. "Shit, I missed you." You mumbled before attacking his lips with yours, throwing your body against his that instinctively grabbed your waist and lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. It didn't take long for him to feel your hard nipples against his chest and you his hard cock. And suddenly, all the loneliness you had felt, all the sadness, was gone. No one else existed. It was just you and him.

"Eww, get a room." Taehyung shouted from afar making you break the kiss to laugh and look at your friends who pretended to be disgusted but were actually happy that you guys were together.

Jungkook put you on the floor and you held his hand and pulled him through the sand to the house. You went up the stairs and as soon as you entered the bedroom, you slammed the door and kissed him on the lips, bringing your hands up to the shirt he was wearing and unbuttoning it. As soon as he threw it on the floor, you brought your hands up to his back, scratching him, making him moan, but as soon as your hands got close to his waist, you  reached for something and you opened your eyes at once and spun him around, seeing a pistol in his belt.

"A gun? Jungkook why did you brought a gun?" You asked taking a step back, totally angry, crossing your arms.

"It's just a precaution, babe." He said taking out the gun and placing it on the chair that was nearby before going to you and holding your face with both hands. “It's extra protection, that's all. You don't have to worry.”

"Are you sure?" You asked lowering your shield, unable to resist him. He nodded, spreading kisses across your face until his lips were on yours again and his hands on yourr hips, squeezing your buttocks as he walked, pushing you toward the bed. He pulled on your top, taking it off and making you fall sitting on the bed, kneeling in front of you and unbuttoning your shorts, also taking off your sneakers. After taking off your underwear, leaving you completely naked, he laid you on the bed and laid on you, kissing your neck, leaving red and wet marks everywhere his lips and teeth touched.

“Crawl a little further on the bed, babe.” He whispered and you crawled back a little, giving him space to put himself between your legs. Jungkook began to kiss your lips, then he lowered his kisses to your chin, attacking your neck again, then kissing the middle of you breasts, he continued to kiss, lick and nibble every bit of your belly, until his mouth came to rest on your thigh. At that moment, your body was shaking, he was so close but so far from where you wanted his mouth to be. He looked at you through his lashes, seeing that you were biting your lips and looking at him with the hope that he would soon do what you were expecting.

Jeon chuckled and made his way to your clit, He was kissing it with a hunger that makes you gasp in despair, desperate as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, controlling exactly how you want to feel his tongue pulling out your pleasure, you didn't need more intensity than that, in fact, if that feeling got more intense, you would explode. Things were always like this with him, he always left you breathless, whether in bed or in your daily life together. You had no doubt that he was the man you wanted to marry.

"Fuck." You hissed, throwing your head back when you felt your legs shake and your pussy contract. Jeon smiled as he stood up and took off his pants next to his underwear, kicking them away from his feet. His hands went to your waist and he turned you around, placed you on all fours on the bed.

He knelt behind you, and positioned himself at your entrance, sliding inside, making you feel him inch by inch and panting uncontrollably. He started to move slowly because he knew your pussy was tighter than usual because of the orgasm, and he didn't want to hurt you, but as soon as you looked over your shoulder, with a dirty look, he laughed and started to increase the speed of his thrusts. He brought his hand up to your hair, curling it in his fingers and pulling, making you moan and grab the sheets as he was pumping hard from behind, cursing every second he felt he was closer to coming.

"Your pussy is so perfect for me, love. Fuck, you are so tight." He groaned holding your shoulders and pushing you down, making you lie on your belly and he climbed on top of you, placing one hand on your neck, letting his bare, sweaty chest rub on your back, placing one hand at your side for support and not letting his full weight over you. He kissed your shoulders and brought the kisses up to your ear, nibbling it, while moving his hips towards yours. "Can I come inside you, love?"

"Yes please." You whispered, feeling the muscles in his body tighten over yours. Jungkook continued to kiss you as he moved his hips hard against yours, going a little faster until he cursed and lightly bit your shoulder when he felt the climax and released everything inside you.

Jungkook fell lying next to you, breathing quickly and heavily, letting out a laugh as he threw his arms over his head. You remained in the same position, breathing deeply, but you turned your face towards him, looking at him and smiling too. You were so happy.

"I missed you too, princess." He said before lying on his side and putting his arm around your waist, bringing his face close to your, giving you a light kiss on the lips.

"Are you going to stay here until the end of the trip?" You asked as you dressed. You had taken a quick shower and were no longer sweaty and sticky. Jungkook smirked.

“Why? Can’t you get enough of me, babe?”

"Why? Do you want me to get tired of you, bad boy?” You asked laughing, walking towards the door as he took the gun to put it on his waist. When you opened the door, your heart almost went out of your mouth, your eyes widened and you felt your body freeze when you saw her there. The woman with dark-colored hair and her lips as red as pure blood was right there, in front of you. Jungkook, as soon as he saw her, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back, stepping in front of you like a shield and aimed the gun at Shadow.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, honey." She said quietly, in a sweet voice, not looking the least bit shaken by having a Glock pointed at her forehead.

"Give me a reason, bitch." Jungkook snarled and the girl tilted her head to the side and smirked, raising a cell phone.

"You know exactly my reasons." She said darkly and for the first time you witnessed Jungkook hesitate in his actions. "You guys were pretty quick, don't you think?" She asked and so she moved a little to the side just to look at you huddled behind the ‘Jeon wall’. "With me he could last longer."

"It's because it was torture." Jeon replied, taking one hand behind him, to keep you there, safe, behind him. Shadow gave him a false look of offense.

"Don't talk like that, Jeon ..." And she approached him, using her index finger, dragging over his abdomen as he looked at her with disgust. "We used to have a lot of fun."

"What you want?" He spoke louder and the woman entered the room, making Jungkook go back and consequently, you too. Shadow sat in the armchair and crossed her legs, looking bored at you both.

"I wanted to know if you are having fun together, come on." And so she smirked. "And obviously I wanted to join the fun."

And you started to hear different sounds of fireworks and loud music coming from the beach. It was screaming, ambulance sirens, something was wrong. You dared to get out from behind Jungkook and walked to the bedroom window, which faced the beach, watching police cars and ambulances approaching, stopping on the sidewalk, while people screamed and ran. Your heart sank into your chest, feeling a bad feeling coming over it. You looked wide-eyed at Jungkook who glared at the woman sitting in the armchair who was full and comfortable with whatever the situation was going on at that moment outside.

She smiled. And you could feel the evil that came out of that smile that seemed sweet and innocent.

"What did you do?" Jungkook snarled harshly and she looked directly at you who was confused by the whole situation.

"You should check on your friends, dear." She said in an innocent voice and you understood what was going on. Your body was filled with panic and you ran out of the room, without even looking at Jungkook, who started to go after you, but Shadow called him. "Stay, or she dies too." She ordered and he obeyed.

You ran down the stairs and opened the living room door wide open, practically jumping up the porch stairs and running through the crowd of people, shouting your friends names, looking everywhere, but the crowd of people there did not allow her to see clearly. When you finally came out of the crowd, your chest almost exploded. When looking at the floor, two paramedics were putting Suhee on a stretcher, she had her chest all bloody and her eyes closed.

A little further ahead was Becca, next to Namjoon who was lying on the floor, paramedics were coming towards him while he was convulsing and Becca held the wound he had in the abdomen. You didn't know what to do.

You found yourself standing still, paralyzed while watching your friends being taken into the ambulances, Becca climbing into one of them and so they were sailing away while police tried to calm the crowd.

A hand touched your waist and you came out of the trance, screaming and turning at once, ready to hit the person if it was someone hostile, but calmed your heart when saw Taehyung and jumped into his arms hugging him, relieved that he was fine.

He then guided you through the crowd, to Yoongi. He was kneeling against the sand, he was staring at his hands with blood and as soon as you approached, he lifted his head looking at you.

"Namjoon took the stab for me." He said. You then walked over to him, kneeling and hugging him around the neck, starting to cry compulsively before holding his face and asking between sobs and tears if he was okay. He nodded and stood up, helping you up too. “We have to get out of here. You're in danger by staying here." He said, and only then you remembered.

"She is here." You said and both guys looked at you. "Shadow is here." And using all your fury, you ran towards the house, shouting Jungkook's name as you went through the living room, but there was no answer. When you entered the bedroom, right before the other two boys, there was no one there, Shadow and Jungkook were gone.

When they entered the hospital waiting room, which faced the emergency room, the three saw Becca arguing with one of the paramedics who wanted to force her to lie down on the stretcher, but she refused, saying she wasn’t injured and just wanted to know how Suhee was doing. As soon as you entered her field of vision, she started to point out, saying that you were her friends. You and Taehyung stood in front of the couch while Yoongi crossed the room to go to her and take her out of the paramedic's hands, leading her towards you who instantly hugged tightly, and both started to cry again. Taehyung walked away saying that he would seek information about Suhee and Namjoon, while Yoongi excused himself to make some calls. You and Becca sat together on the sofa, holding each other's hands.

"I don’t know what happened. Everything was going well, we were dancing and out of nowhere she was falling to the floor, screaming.” Becca started to tell between her sobs. “Yoongi appeared and started to fight a man who wasn’t concerned about hiding his face and another one appeared. It was all very fast. I remember Namjoon showing up and pushing me back, then he threw himself at Yoongi and one of the guys stabbed him. They ran away and I tried to help Namjoon while Yoongi took care of Suhee.” And so she lowered her head, placing it on your shoulder, crying desperately. You used one hand to wipe your tears, feeling mixed feelings at that moment. “I don't understand what happened, (Y/N). I don't understand why anyone would try to do that. Why are people so bad like that? "

"I do not know." You whispered, not trusting to speak louder knowing that your voice would break and show that you were obviously lying. You knew exactly why it happened. It was because of you. 

Outside the Hospital, Yoongi tried to call Jungkook's cell phone several times, but he just didn't answer. He was intrigued as to why he had left with her, with the woman who was trying to kill his friends, his loyal partners and the love of his life. There was something wrong. When he tried again and the leader didn't answer him, he dialed Hoseok's number and hoped that at least he would answer. He needed backup, he didn't know if Shadow would send others to finish the job and he wasn't sure that he and Taehyung would be able to protect the rest of you if there was another attack.

“What’ up?”

"Namjoon and Suhee were stabbed." He said being straightforward, not time to explain the situation. He needed to go back inside the hospital and see how the others were doing.“We are in the hospital. And I don't think we are safe here, I have the impression that they will attack again.”

"Fuck. We are going." Said the boy on the other end of the line and Yoongi managed to hear him shout Seokjin's name. "What about (Y/N)?"

“She is fine, she hasn't been hurt. We need more people here.”

"Send the location."

And so he hung up. 

When Yoongi entered the waiting room, he sat next to Becca and hugged her by the shoulders, while keeping his eyes on you and around you too. They were there because they had both let their guard down, it was his fault as well. Shortly afterwards, Taehyung returned with news.

Suhee and Namjoon were both in surgery and that was just what he managed to get out of the doctors there. They would have to wait to know more details when the surgery ended or when one of the nurses decided to say something. In the meantime, you and he had to fill in two forms, with the personal information of Suhee and Namjoon, since they had no identity, you were signing as his responsible until they recovered the conscience.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered while your head was lying on Taehyung's shoulder. He frowned and turned his face slightly, taking his eyes off the white wall in front of him to look at you. You glanced sideways, seeing that Becca was calm, resting against Yoongi's chest who was on alert, looking everywhere. Then you looked back at the boy who was still curious to know what you meant by that. “Namjoon is here because of me. I never wanted ... "

"Hey." He whispered, making you shut up, pressing your lips, wanting to cry again. "It's not your fault, you know? Shadow is a psychopath. Psychopaths harm others because they like to see pain in humans, because they think they’re superior to the rest of the world. You are not to blame for any of this. You haven't done anything wrong. And if you don't believe me, just wait for Namjoon to leave that room and he will give you the biggest speech so that you understand that one of the best things that happened in our life was you.” He then smiled, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that had accidentally escaped your eyes. "It's gonna be okay." And you nodded, smiling at him and laying your head back on his shoulder, trying not to martyr yourself about all tha

Time passed, you were no longer putting up with your anxiety, you needed news about your friends, anything that would help to lessen your worry, but nobody said anything, nobody knew anything and that was eating you inside. You started pacing while the others sat quietly in their thoughts. Sometimes you looked at Becca, she had nothing to do with it but there she was, Suhee also had nothing to do with the madness of your life and she was there too. It was you who should be in that operating room, not her. You sighed, deep in thought. They had a right to know what was going on and why they were attacked. When you left the hospital, you were determined to tell them the whole truth, even if it meant they never looked at you again.

You didn't know how long you were there, you didn't want to look at the clock and be even more distressed, you just realized that it had been just over two hours when a doctor finally approached you saying he had news from your friends. The other three got up and stopped beside you. You instantly grabbed Taehyung's and Becca's hand, biting your lips with all the strength you had, you could even taste the blood on your tongue when your teeth cut the skin inside your mouth. He didn't look good, and that wasn't a good sign.

"Mr. Kim is still in surgery, the stab was very deep, it hit several vessels and our surgeons are doing what they can to cauterize and stop the bleeding." He started talking and you felt your chest tighten and at the same time Taehyung squeezed your hand. “As for the girl, I'm sorry to say that she couldn't take the injuries, and even though our doctors did everything they could, they couldn't save her. I'm really sorry." 

When you heard the doctor’s words, everything was in slow motion for you. The sounds distorted and so did your vision, becoming blurred by the tears that fell from your eyes. Becca fell to her knees on the floor, screaming and crying desperately, while you were so shocked that you had no reaction, just froze while Yoongi hugged your friend around the waist, trying to calm her down. What had you done so badly to deserve this? What had she done so badly to deserve to die like that?

You needed air. You let go of Taehyung's hand staggering toward the exit, your legs threatening to fail as you took deep steps.

As soon as you left the hospital, you used a hand to prop on one of the pillars, breathing deeply and hard in order to get your lungs back into air, but it was like someone were stuffing knives in your chest. Taehyung followed you out and stopped in front of you, trying to do that thing with breathing like Jin had done that day. And when you started to calm down, something seemed to snap inside you.

“She’s dead.” You squeaked at Taehyung who had his eyebrows together, extremely worried about everything that was happening. He enveloped you in a silent embrace where all you heard was your own cry. “Suhee is dead” You whimpered between loud sobs, grabbing his shirt and stuffing your face in his chest, while Tae tried to hold his own emotions. He was tremendously saddened by what had happened to your friend and even more distressed by not knowing what the situation of Namjoon’s surgery. He knew what it felt like to lose someone so close, and he didn’t want to go through that again.

“I know, little sister. I know.” He whispered, tightening his embrace and stroking your hair, while also looking around the parking lot, waiting for the others to arrive soon. And as soon as he focused on the entrance, he saw it, it was Hoseok’s SW4 and Jimin's Range Rover. Both parked irregularly, skidding the tires on the asphalt and the three guys got out of the cars, running towards you.

“Passion.” Jimin was the first to approach, raising a hand to touch you, but Taehyung snarled, in a warning for him to stay away. The last thing Kim wanted was Jimin to making you cry even more. Jimin looked at him with disdain before looking back at you. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Where are the others?” Jin asked. “How is Namjoon doing?”

“Namjoon is still in surgery. Yoongi is with Becca in the waiting room and …” Taehyung looked down at you who were still crying in his chest. “Suhee didn’t …” He didn’t have to finish the sentence to everyone understand what had happened.

Jimin put his hands on his head, and took a few steps away, unable to believe it. He knew that shit like that would happen someday. He knew he should have arrested those guys when he had the chance, when he already had all the evidence that they were a gang involved in selling drugs. If he had done this before, you would be safe and none of this would be happening. Jin cursed, realizing that the situation was far worse than he could have imagined.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Hoseok asked when he realized that he had not been mentioned. “Jungkook said he would come to the beach hours ago. Hasn't he arrived yet?”

Silence again. Jimin and Jin also looked towards you to know the answer to that question. Taehyung looked at you again who was now with eyes closed and your hands clenched into fists. He then replied:

“Apparently he left the beach house and went somewhere with Shadow.”

“What?” Jin and Jimin screamed at the same time, widening their eyes in total surprise. Meanwhile, Hoseok remained silent, thinking of a reason why Jungkook left you to go anywhere with Shadow. Then he looked down at you, all vulnerable again because of that bitch. He was so tired of watching you cry.

"What are we going to do now?" Taehyung asked, visibly lost. “We cannot go back to the beach house, someone can come back to try to finish the job and we cannot leave Namjoon alone here. And the girls are too shaken. Becca doesn't understand what's going on and I think we'll end up having to tell her.”

"Not yet." Hoseok said, still keeping his eyes on you that was totally oblivious to his eyes. “Dean sent some guys, they should be arriving at any moment, they are going to make the security of Namjoon and whoever decides to stay here with him as an escort. The rest of us must stay in one place until Jungkook appears or until Namjoon recovers to be able to fight again. She is no longer afraid, so she is attacking us directly. First at the bar, now this.” He snorted.. "There's something wrong about it. She is overconfident, as if she is no longer afraid of being shot by one of us, but she knows that we have courage and if she appears in front of one of us, she will die, so what’s making her so carefree?”

"He didn't shoot her." You said in a choked voice, making everyone's attention turn to you. After taking a deep breath, you took a step back, leaving Taehyung's embrace and turning to the others who stared at you. “Jungkook and I were leaving the room when she showed up. He aimed the gun at the middle of her forehead, but he didn't shoot.”

“Maybe he was worried about you. He never killed anyone in front of him, maybe he was afraid to scare you, you already made it very clear that you don't like him having the cold blood to kill.” Seokjin said, but you shook his head in denial.

"She said she had a reason why he couldn't shoot her, and also said that he knows what is the reason."

"She knows something." Hoseok said frowning. "That bitch knows something about him that we don't, so he knows that if he kills her, someone will tell everyone what she knew."

"Maybe she has evidence to incriminate you, maybe he is afraid she will report you to the police and you will all be arrested." Jimin said, but Taehyung rolled his eyes, huffing.

“Jungkook doesn’t feel fear, asshole. You have no idea of the things I’ve seen him do and in none of them I saw an ounce of fear in his eyes.” He explained. “He once thought (Y/N) had run away, and instead of being afraid that she would tell the police everything she knew about us…”

"He was afraid that she would leave him." Jin completed, remembering exactly the day that it happened, the day after that work in that pub where Taehyung was shot.

And as a general statement, everyone understood what was going on, and everyone looked at you, with exclamation marks hanging over their heads when they found out what Shadow probably knew to Jungkook hesitate in kill her.

"She knows something about you, (Y/N)."

When they returned to the hospital, Jin went to talk to the doctors while the rest sat in the waiting room. Yoongi said the nurses gave Becca a sedative and she would probably sleep for the rest of the night so he would stay with her in one of the rooms. So you, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin stayed there, waiting for more news from Namjoon, and preferably, good news.

At one point one of the doctors in charge was talking to you about releasing Suhee's body to IML and you held Hoseok's hand so tightly to not to cry that as soon as you said you would call her parents, and the doctor left, Jung hugged you so tightly that you could hardly breathe or cry.

"We'll get this bitch, (Y/N), I promise." He whispered against your hair as he stroked it. "I won't let her make you suffer anymore."

"What did I do wrong, Hobi?" You asked in a broken voice, hiding your face against his chest. Hoseok was so full of fury, choking on hate. He didn't know who to hate more, Jungkook or Shadow.

“Nothing, little one. You didn't do anything wrong.” And when looking at the entrance door, he saw some familiar faces, the men that Dean had sent to make Namjoon's security. “I need to do something. I won't be long and I won't be leaving the hospital, okay?” And so he kissed you on the forehead before turning to Jimin and waving for him to follow. Arching an eyebrow, the boy stood up and followed Hoseok while you sat next to Taehyung. "Did you bring your badge?" Jung asked and Jimin nodded, taking his badge out of his pocket. "Great. I need you to use this to convince the staff here that Namjoon needs protection, from leaving the operating room to out this hospital.”

"We don't even know if he will ..." And before he finished speaking, Hoseok turned to Jimin at once and pointed his finger right in the middle of his face.

"Do not say that." He said slowly and through his teeth. Jimin raised his hands as a sign of innocence and soon they were walking back towards the reception where Jimin called for the hospital's general director, while Hoseok went towards the men that Jeon's father had sent. Jimin was invited to go to the boardroom which was two floors above.

"Good evening, I'm Martin Fritz. How can I help?" The man said as soon as Jimin entered his office, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. Jimin accepted and sat down, taking his badge out of his pocket again and showing it to the Director.

“My name is Park Jimin, I work for Little Fox's 34th police department. I'll be straightforward, I don't have much time for idleness, and I will need your complete secrecy about what I will say. Do you agree to maintain confidentiality?” He remained serious as he spoke. Jimin was very good at interrogation, one of the best in the state and that is why he was so acclaimed at the police station where he used to work before taking the drug investigation in Little Fox.

"Yes of course." Martin replied, understanding that the situation was really serious.

"Great. Two people were brought here after they suffered an assassination attempt on the beach a few kilometers from here, these two people are part of a witness protection program. One died on the operating room and the other continues to be operated. I believe it was a planned move by someone who wanted to get rid of them, so I need to keep them safe. I want your permission to put some of my undercover cops to make rounds in the corridors next to the room he will be staying in and also to secure his room.”

“You have my full support, Mr. Park. If you need help from hospital security, just tell me.”

And Jimin nodded, satisfied. He got up and left the room, already taking out his cell phone and calling Hoseok, warning that everything was cleared and that he could put his men to work.

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018/2020 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

I truly enjoyed the witty banter of the characters and the writer's writing style. 👏🏻 Plus, Yoongi in glasses 👓🔥

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

Waited

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung

Length: ~4.2k

Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.

Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.

You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that. 

The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.

He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off. 

You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you. 

The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.

The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news. 

But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass. 

He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical. 

“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.

Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”

Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.

And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.

The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation. 

You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.

But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you. 

“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.

Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”

Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his. 

“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”

It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision. 

“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.

Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.

He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery. 

Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.

You missed him. 

He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.

“Stay?” 

Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”

The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place. 

Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).

The news comes from your mom. 

She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.

He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline. 

Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.

Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…

Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it

You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.

So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch. 

Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.

He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.

Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.

He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.

You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.

Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.

Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh. 

“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy. 

The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on. 

Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him. 

“Fuc–Yoongi!” 

Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.

“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.

He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits. 

You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.

It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.

Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?” 

His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.

A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.

Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.

You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.

“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.

Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”

“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.” 

“Finger it for me,” he drawls.

Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.

“Come here.” 

Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool.  “You come here.”

“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.” 

Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.

His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.

“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.

In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing. 

Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.” 

The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.

With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.

The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.

“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.

Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out. 

Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!” 

“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.

“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.

He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.

Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position. 

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 

You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.

Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.

Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.

He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.

Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.

“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”

Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.

The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.

Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.

The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—

 “I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”

Well that's new. “Oh.”

“It was an accident but—”

“What’d she say?” You cut him off. 

Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.

“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”

You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy. 

“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.

He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.

“Is that what you want?”

The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it. 

Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.

“That’s what I want.”

Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”

Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.

“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.

“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”

“Yeah?”

You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”

“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again.  “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”

“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?” 

You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off. 

“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.

“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

This was so well written!!

Now We Reign | myg

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering

☆word count: 34.9k

☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

Keep reading

Easily charmed

Yoongi x reader Summary: You knew he was bad news, but that didn't stop you from developing a small crush for the man. You don’t know whether you regret dating Yoongi or not. It was an experience. You had been taught many lessons. Warnings: swear words, illegal activities, drugs and drug dealing, motorcycle stunt (that is dangerous if there are two people on it but anyways) being escorted to the police station for possible drug possession. Genre: angst Word count: 2.4k (2480 words)

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"I already told you, I don't think it's a good idea to go see him while he's with his friends." You sighed but your friend Jiyoung insisted. She wanted to pass by where she knew her boyfriend and his friends were, but you really didn't want to go.

The reasons were obvious. She'd probably ditch you and you'd know no one else there. Also you didn't really trust her boyfriend. He wasn’t what you would call a good guy exactly. Actually, he wasn’t a good guy at all. You were pretty sure he was closely involved with drugs.

However you couldn't convince your friend not to go so you could only suffer. That day, in your mind, wasn't as bad as you thought it could go, but now as your future self you could only laugh at your past self.

Your friend spotted her boyfriend and his friends along with some girls she mentions from time to time when talking to you. They all already knew the two of you were on your way, so they purposely waited there for you. You approached the group of people and they seemed to have recognized Jiyoung because some of them immediately turned to greet her.

You didn't like how her boyfriend didn't walk up to her to greet but waited for her to go to him, but you didn't comment on it. Hoseok just sat there and smirked as she moved closer to him. She leaned up to peck his lips, whistles coming from his friends, along with some teasing words. When she moved to greet some others of his friends with a handshake, Hoseok glanced at you giving you a small nod and a smirk before turning back to the conversation he had with the shorter male next to him.

Jiyoung appeared next to you, listing the names of the people around you, but you forgot most of them as soon as she finished. The shorter male next to Hoseok was named Jimin and just like the rest of them he seemed like trouble. Some of the women around you were occasionally hooking up with some of Hoseok's friends and others were just hanging out with them for other, obvious reasons.

"Can we just go now?" A tall guy with a dimple said after a while and the rest let our choruses of 'yeah's and 'sure's

You turned to Jiyoung expecting her to greet everyone and leave with you, but she just walked along with Hoseok to his car. She seemed to suddenly remember your existence because she turned to see you standing there all confused about what was going on.

"We're just going to chill at some beach nearby, with beers. Nothing special." she said and your jaw almost dropped. What were you supposed to do? Leave? If yes then did you have to greet everyone or just leave? It's also night and you didn't wanna go home alone. She probably read your thoughts, because she said "you are supposed to come too." You assumed you'd get in the car with her and Hoseok, but at the same time you didn't wanna third wheel. What was more terrifying; third wheeling or going in some stranger’s car or motorcycle?

You saw Hoseok sighing and you read his lips that said "fuck, I forgot about her".  Yeah, Hoseok, you weren't too pleased to be there either.

Some short guy patted Hoseok's shoulder and said something you couldn't make out and you swore you saw Jiyoung's eyes widening. All of them turned to you at the same time making you raise an eyebrow at them. The short guy walked towards you and nodded towards his motorcycle. "You'll come with me," he said and suddenly you had an even worse feeling about all this. For Jiyoung's shake you didn't refuse, knowing how much Hoseok's friend's opinions mattered to her.

You simply nodded as the man got on his bike turning it on, seeing Jiyoung sigh in relief from the corner of your eye. When the man motioned, you got on the bike, your hands reluctantly wrapping around the man's waist.

"What was your name again?" He asked and you barely heard him over the loud engines turning on.  "(Y/n)," you replied seeing him nod.

He didn't speak again for a while, seeing the others start driving to get back on the street. Since he and 2 more men had motorcycles they quickly moved to the front leading the way, the cars following right behind them.

"Hold on tight now or else you'll fall" you heard the man say, before he went faster. Suddenly, he raised the front wheel to the air-what you later found out was named a “wheelie” stunt- as you let out a squeak, your fists tightly holding his jacket not planning to let go any time soon. You heard another guy that was on the motorcycle next to you laugh loudly and cheer, the woman behind him doing the same.

"You okay there?" The man in front of you asked after he stopped doing his stupid stunt. "Yeah, I'm good, I mean, I'm trying," you replied and he chuckled.

Suddenly everyone started moving slower and started acting as if they were all going to their own ways separately, driving away from each other, some stayed behind, others continued moving with the same speed to the front. Before you could even question the man about the odd behaviour of the group he spoke up. "There’s always police somewhere near here so we pretend we are going slow." He explained and you nodded even though the man couldn’t see you.

After a while they seemed to start going faster again and you eventually reached the place you were meant to go. It was a nice quiet beach. Secluded, with no one around except your group. Everyone slowly started getting off their bikes or out of their cars. The man turned the engine off and both of you got off.  You slowly moved away from the man and towards Jiyoung, who took your hand holding you away from the others so they wouldn’t hear. "Everything alright?" She asked and you nodded.

"I'm fine"

"I saw the stunt Yoongi did. Where you scared?" "A little, but I'm fine, so it's okay I guess." You replied and she nodded. She picked up her speed again, walking towards the others, plopping next to her boyfriend and you awkwardly sat next to her. On your right there was no one and you were thankful for that. You'd rather just sit there alone than have to talk with someone and probably embarrass yourself.

Sadly, you weren't lucky for long, because soon the man who you finally knew was named Yoongi sat near you. He didn't say anything to you, instead he continued talking with the guy on his right. You just sat there, enjoying the view of the sea, the small waves creating a nice ambience and the moonlight shining over your big group. There barely were any streetlights making it very dark, but at least that made it easier to look at the stars.

You recognised a few constellations you knew could be visible in that time of the year. You were probably staring for a long time because you felt a nudge from your left making you turn to look at Jiyoung, who nodded towards Hoseok.

"Do you not get bored of looking at the sky for so long?" He jokingly asked and you just chuckled. You turned to look at the sea this time. A few moments later you heard a soft voice in your ear. "You like stars, huh?" Yoongi asked. "Um yeah, I was looking at the constellations that are visible now, but I couldn’t recognize all of them" you said awkwardly.

"Which ones?" He asked and you raised an eyebrow. "Which ones?" You repeated. "Which ones do you recognize and which ones do you not?" He asked and you let out a small "oh" before pointing at the sky.

"I recognize that one, Cassiopeia. But those three stars in a row remind me or Ursa Minor but I can’t seem to find the rest of it."

"That's because that's not Ursa Minor. It's Orion. Those 3 stars are the belt. The two stars on the top and the two stars on the bottom form his body" he said and you looked at him dumbfounded. "Really?" You asked and he nodded with a chuckle.

"Wow, it's the first time I actually see Orion." You thought out loud.

Who could have thought that just a small conversation about stars would make you this charmed. The man had a soft smile on his face while speaking. You'd expect him to smirk and act all cocky, but he was very kind which of course made you feel some type of way. Seeing this side from a man like this.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to Jiyoung when you easily agreed to go hang out with their group again. The fact that you spent most of the time with Yoongi shouldn’t have been a surprise either.

He seemed to be able to hold a conversation with you, despite your not so similar ways of living. You knew he was bad news, but that didn't stop you from developing a small crush for the man.

He was just so charming and his chuckle when you attempted to make a joke gave you butterflies in your stomach.

Jiyoung never commented on how you and Yoongi seemed to often move a little farther from the rest of the group when talking.

Eventually, Yoongi made his move on you and you let him, which lead to the two of you dating. Still, you didn't know much about each other, but you wanted to and blinded by his charm, you saw potential in the man.

One night, again at that beach, the two of you decided to go on a walk along the beach, look at the stars, throw rocks at the sea and see who can throw it further. After you managed to throw one rock further than Yoongi, you cheered loudly and jumped up and down clapping your hands.

"I did it! I beat you! In your face loser!" you said and he laughed, enjoying seeing you act more freely around him. He continued looking at you even after you stopped laughing and you both made eye contact. You didn't speak, just admired each other's beautiful features.

Soon, he started leaning in and you did too. You glanced at his coral lips, not even slightly chapped and so inviting. You both closed the gap, your lips slowly moving against each other's. His hands slowly wrapped around your waist, your hands were resting on his chest and you continued to kiss for what felt like ages. When you finally stopped for air, you pressed your forehead against his and caught your breath.

One of his hands softly cradled your cheek making you look at him, before he leaned in giving you a small peck on the lips, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.

"God, I wanted to do that so bad," he spoke softly and you almost whined at the sound of his voice. It was probably one of your favorite things about him. His voice, his tone when talking. When the moment was more intimate he seemed to be talking very lazily which you found so hot. When he liked what he was talking about he spoke with more energy and a little faster. Every once in a while he trailed off by breathing in, making a small sound similar to hissing with his teeth. At first you thought it was because it was chilly, but turns out it's just a habit he has when talking.

However, just like all stories, it's not always all rainbows and unicorns. Yoongi was never one of those boyfriends that tried to spend as much time with you as possible. At first you were okay with it because you are a busy woman after all and needed some personal time too. But then Yoongi's behaviour made it seem as if he avoided spending time with you on purpose.

You tried not to get jealous when you knew he was meeting up with women because after all he was just their dealer, so you had no reason to, but you also knew how many of them tried to flirt to get the product on a lower price. You liked to think that they never succeeded in this.

All couples argue every once in a while, so you tried to not let it ruin your relationship, but soon something happened and you can’t lie and say that you didn’t expect it, but you were just hoping it wouldn’t happen.

You had made Yoongi promise not to have drugs on him when he was with you and he had replied that he wasn't planning on doing it anyways. When police asked you to pull over you didn't worry and you just showed the officers your IDs and the papers for the motorcycle and were free to go. But one time, they checked the cigarette pack Yoongi had on him and escorted you to the police station.

The officers thought they found traces of weed in Yoongi's cigarettes and had to check, so until the results came out the two of you had to stay there. Luckily there was nothing in his cigarettes. They were just of bad quality, but that scared you so much you decided to stop what you had with Yoongi.

"I'm sorry but I just can't take this. Feeling as if at any time of the day I could suddenly have trouble with the police. We were lucky you actually had nothing on you this time, but who knows what will happen in the future. You might forget it and I don't want any trouble because of this."

He understood you. He didn't try to change your mind. He just explained you that he couldn't change his lifestyle, at least for now, but he respected your decision to break up with him. To say you were shocked he was so calm about it was an understatement. But you were glad he was. It didn't make it hurt any less though.

Jiyoung told you from time to time about how Yoongi had been. Yoongi asked her about you too. She tried to get the two of you to just text each other every time you felt like hearing from the other, but you never did. You could only move on and by continuing to talk with him, you wouldn't be able to do it.

You don’t know whether you regret dating Yoongi or not. It was an experience. You had been taught many lessons. The most important of them was to not get his easily charmed.

daydream (myg) | masterlist

⇢ series playlist ☽ 

summary: after losing his wife, all yoongi had was his 5 year old daughter, suki, and his mother-in-law by his side. he was sure he didn’t need anyone else, especially after many people near & dear to him doubted in his ability to take care of his daughter on his own. that is, until he met you— someone who unexpectedly came and changed his world for the better, bringing in new highs and lows to experience on this journey with suki.

pairing: nurse!reader x single dad!myg

genre: single dad au, strangers to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, unprotected sex, insecurities, anxiety, trauma from past events, alcohol consumption, death/mentions of death, crying, etc. (individual warnings for each chapter will be included)

updates: every other week.

taglist: [closed]

RELEASE DATE: 09/19/2021

special thank you to @invisiblefortoday​, @jimidol​, @vantezza​ and @lovelytaes-blog​ for letting me ramble on about this series and cry over daydream!yoongi 😭♥️ you all gave me the push and support i needed to move on with this. i love you!

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

ten.

eleven.

twelve.

thirteen.

fourteen.

fifteen.

sixteen.

seventeen.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty. (final)

daydream (myg) | masterlist

⇢ series playlist ☽ 

summary: after losing his wife, all yoongi had was his 5 year old daughter, suki, and his mother-in-law by his side. he was sure he didn’t need anyone else, especially after many people near & dear to him doubted in his ability to take care of his daughter on his own. that is, until he met you— someone who unexpectedly came and changed his world for the better, bringing in new highs and lows to experience on this journey with suki.

pairing: nurse!reader x single dad!myg

genre: single dad au, strangers to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, unprotected sex, insecurities, anxiety, trauma from past events, alcohol consumption, death/mentions of death, crying, etc. (individual warnings for each chapter will be included)

updates: every other week.

taglist: [closed]

RELEASE DATE: 09/19/2021

special thank you to @invisiblefortoday​, @jimidol​, @vantezza​ and @lovelytaes-blog​ for letting me ramble on about this series and cry over daydream!yoongi 😭♥️ you all gave me the push and support i needed to move on with this. i love you!

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

ten.

eleven.

twelve.

thirteen.

fourteen.

fifteen.

sixteen.

seventeen.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty. (final)

daydream (myg) | masterlist

⇢ series playlist ☽ 

summary: after losing his wife, all yoongi had was his 5 year old daughter, suki, and his mother-in-law by his side. he was sure he didn’t need anyone else, especially after many people near & dear to him doubted in his ability to take care of his daughter on his own. that is, until he met you— someone who unexpectedly came and changed his world for the better, bringing in new highs and lows to experience on this journey with suki.

pairing: nurse!reader x single dad!myg

genre: single dad au, strangers to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, unprotected sex, insecurities, anxiety, trauma from past events, alcohol consumption, death/mentions of death, crying, etc. (individual warnings for each chapter will be included)

updates: every other week.

taglist: [closed]

RELEASE DATE: 09/19/2021

special thank you to @invisiblefortoday​, @jimidol​, @vantezza​ and @lovelytaes-blog​ for letting me ramble on about this series and cry over daydream!yoongi 😭♥️ you all gave me the push and support i needed to move on with this. i love you!

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

ten.

eleven.

twelve.

thirteen.

fourteen.

fifteen.

sixteen.

seventeen.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty. (final)

Series snippet!

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader

genre: mafia, e2l

summary: As the youngest daughter of the most powerful family in the country’s crime syndicate, you never thought you would be forced to takeover your father’s money-laundering casino. Due to unforeseen circumstances, you and your brother, Jungkook, are left in charge to carry on with business. But in the absence of your father and oldest brother, Seokjin, the two of you are targets of rival bloodthirsty mobs desperate for power and turf and you must be protected. But the man who’s assigned as your personal bodyguard is someone you never thought you would see again. This wasn’t in the cards.

warnings: violence and murder (not explicit), one incident of partner abuse, guns, drugs, alcohol, smoking, gambling, smut, ANGST!!! So much angst, trauma, PTSD

masterlist

"Are you dangerous, Min Yoongi?"

"It's a little late to ask that."

this is my first fic! I’ve been working on this for a long ass time but only recently got the guts to start posting! This is heavily inspired by the bodyguard from the K-drama The King: Eternal Monarch. IYKYK!

GIF by casdecns

SHEEEEEEESH

Anyway. This is a longwinded story but I’m super proud of it even though it’s not all written out yet lmao. I hope you like it and I will always accept feedback and constructive criticism!

Masterlist

Series snippet!

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader

genre: mafia, e2l

summary: As the youngest daughter of the most powerful family in the country’s crime syndicate, you never thought you would be forced to takeover your father’s money-laundering casino. Due to unforeseen circumstances, you and your brother, Jungkook, are left in charge to carry on with business. But in the absence of your father and oldest brother, Seokjin, the two of you are targets of rival bloodthirsty mobs desperate for power and turf. You must be protected but the man who’s assigned as your bodyguard is someone you never thought you would see again. This wasn’t in the cards.

warnings: violence and murder (not explicit), one incident of partner abuse, guns, drugs, alcohol, smoking, gambling, smut, ANGST!!! So much angst, trauma, PTSD

upload date: pending

"Are you dangerous, Min Yoongi?"

"It's a little late to ask that."

The Right Moment

Summary, Who would of thought that a stranger would make you feel safe and loved. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     You sat at your local cafe just thinking back on the past year that has been nothing but pain and suffering. You were so caught up in your own mind that you didn’t notice the young man sitting next to you. Looking up at you once he heard you sniffling. It wasn’t until you felt a touch on your shoulder that brought you back to reality, wiping away the tears that you didn’t know have fallen. 

     “Are you okay?” the kind stranger asked. You turn your head to look at him, only to be taken back by his beauty.

     He asked you again and you took a deep breath, “Um. Yes, I’m sorry!” You told him while looking away. He looked at you for a while make you feel subconscious about yourself. I mean a hot guy was staring at you when you probably looked like a crack head.

     “Are you sure? you look like you need a shoulder to cry on” He told you making you chuckle. “Well not every day is a good day,” you told him giving him a small smile.  

     “You know, I’ve been told that talk about it helps ease the pain,” he told you looking into your eyes. All you can do was melt into his eye, “I don’t know if you would want to hear my miserable life haha” You said chuckling at your statement. 

     “Try me,” he told you with a gummy smile.

     You didn’t know why you spilled everything to a complete stranger but something about him made you feel safe. For a year now you have been dealing with a rollercoaster of emotions regarding your ex-boyfriend. He was your best friend at first but later turned into something that you thought would be special for both of you.

     But it turns out to be the complete opposite, he made you hide your relationship, like if he was ashamed of you but he being your first love you didn’t think too much of it. Your friends would tell you he wasn’t the one for you that you needed to move on because he was only using you. But by the time you noticed it was too late. 

     You were so in love with him that every little wrong thing he did you just pushed it aside like it was not a big deal. It got to the point where people would tell you he was cheating on you and the girl he was with was pregnant with his kid but you told them that he would never to that to you.

     Last night, you guys got into a horrible fight causing him to break your heart more than it already was. 

     “You think I actually loved you? No, I fucking didn’t you were just someone I could come to when I needed a quick fuck. You were stupid enough to believe that you were actually worth my time. And yes she is pregnant with my kid, we are getting married soon” Your ex said to your face, to broken to tell him something. The last thing you heard was him walking out and leaving you there like you were worth nothing. 

     By the time you were done you were in tears again but this time the kind stranger was holding on to you let you cry your heart out. Once you were calmed you pulled away, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt or spilled everything on you” you gave a faint laughed as you wiped away your tears. 

     “You know, your ex is pretty stupid to let go of someone so beautiful, kind and strong girl like you. You don’t need a guy like that to make you feel special, you’re special in your own unique way. Oh, by the way, I’m Yoongi!” He told you while wiping the last tear from your cheek. 

     “(Y/N). I told you my story without even knowing who you were haha” You told him. After a while of getting to know each other, you couldn’t help how he made you feel. 

     Days passed and you were getting ready to go on a date with Yoongi. You were excited to see him again. Yoongi took you to a fancy restaurant for your date, every time he gave you a compliment or did a cute gestured you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat faster it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest.

     From the corner of your eye, you saw your ex and his girlfriend walking your way, you stiffened and Yoongi noticed 

     “Well look who we have here? (Y/N)! What are you doing here?” Your ex asked you while giving you a smirked. 

“As you can see, she is on a date!” Yoongi fired back at him. 

     “Wow (Y/N) I didn’t know you had it in you to get a rebound!” Your ex said laughing. “Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Plus, why do you care your nothing to her” Yoongi said while holding your hand.

     His girl turns to you, “Your boyfriend is Suga from BTS? You really expected us to believe that. You are just desperate for attention aren’t you. You paid him to be with you.” His girl laughed.

     You looked back at Yoongi shocked; you knew he looked familiar you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Not it all made sense, but it only pissed you off. 

     “What shocked that I can actually do better than your worthless baby daddy?” You fired back making them look back at you with wide eyes. 

     “Oh, come one (Y/N) you’ve been in love with me for the longest time, I doubt you will move on from me that quickly” Your ex said while reaching out for you.

     Yoongi got in front of you protecting you from his touch. “I was (Y/E/N) but looking back at the hell of a year you put me through made me realized that I hate you more than anything and you aren’t worth my time. I found someone that treats me with more love than you ever did. So, I wish you both the best but if you excuse us, we have a date to get back too” You told them taking a seat and Yoongi seating next you.

     Your ex and his girl left without another comment and you were glad because for once you felt like you were going to explode. 

     You turn to Yoongi and you saw him smiling back at you. “So, you are from BTS? I thought you looked familiar” You said while laughing. 

     “Yea I didn’t think you were a fan,” he told you. “Are you kidding Jungkook is my bias!” You told him laughing.

     He looked back at you and smirked, “I’ll make sure to tell him when I see him, but I will tell him that you’re mine.” The rest of the night felt amazing by the time it was time to say goodbye he gave you a long passionate kiss. After, that night you felt like you found your prince charming.

It was the beginning to your happily ever after. 

-The End🦋