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ot7
kim namjoon
kim seokjin
min yoongi
jung hoseok
park jimin
kim taehyung
jeon jeongguk
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An abandoned apartment in your building caught your attention the day you moved in. With a mind full of conspiracy theories, you’ve spent many hours contemplating what might be behind the door of Room 17. Your neighbor, Yoongi, doesn’t seem as eager as you are to solve the mystery but he agrees to help you break in anyway to get you to finally shut up about it. Also, he may or may not think you’re kinda cute. However, the two of you get more than you bargain for when you discover something dangerous is living right next door; Little do you know that this something has quite a lot in common with your snarky neighbor…
or…
“Actually this is kind of cool, I’ve always wanted to star in a Twilight fanfic…”
“I can’t believe you genuinely just compared this situation to Twilight.”
“Yoongi- I hate to break it to you but, this literally happened in Twilight.”
Pairing: Vampire! Yoongi x Human! Reader, dom! Yoongi x sub! Reader (*cue the Twilight Zone theme song*)
Word Count: 42,653 ( I am a clown :D )
Genre: neighbor au, soulmate au, vampire au, supernatural, fluff, HUMOR, angst, smut (its not til the very end palz, im so sorry)
Warnings (PLEASE READ ME): angst, language, blood (like there is aloooooot of blood in this fic), depictions of violence, death of a major character is mentioned in detail but as always, we have a happy endings only policy so i promise it’s going to end well!! explicit smut (18+ only plz), bdsm themes,marking, mentions of a very real serial killer (the real story is tweaked to fit the fic’s plot), very brief mention of needles.
(TRIGGER WARNING: I am about to discuss the concept of self harm, please continue reading at your own discretion)
there is a scene where one of the characters intentionally cuts themselves but it is not within the context of self harm. They cut themselves for a specific purpose that will make sense if you choose to read but please only do so if you feel comfortable <333
A/N: heyyyyyy….how y’all doing???? Yes, this is a quote from a tik tok audio. Yes, I have completely lost my mind. Well here she is,,,in all her glory. I never had the anticipation of this fic becoming this long but here we are. I can’t wait for you to read this one, thank you so much for sticking with me and waiting for it. Your feedback means the world to me so I hope to hear from you! I love you.
“Every time I walk by that door, I swear I feel like someone is watching me.”
This statement is spoken through your doorframe at your very uninterested neighbor who made the unfortunate mistake of coming by to borrow your pepper.
“Yoongi, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know what’s going on in that place-”
His chuckle cuts you off, “Oh I already know what’s going on; it’s not the mystery you seem to think it is.” His eyes dart back and forth before he leans in and licks his lips.
Without your permission, your body seems to gravitate towards his, your lips parting with anticipation.
“You do?”
“Oh yeah…”
You swallow back the scratchiness in your throat, your hand pressing against the chipped paint of the doorframe.
“Tell me…”
A puff of air leaves his lips as he replies, “Asbestos.”
Yoongi cackles whilst you roll your eyes, your body recoiling into your apartment.
“I hate you.”
“Yah, you hate me because I don’t believe that Room 17 is haunted? This building is like 60 years old- management obviously doesn’t want to pay for an inspection so they started sealing off the rooms that haven’t been renovated yet. That’s it: mystery solved.”
“Then how do you explain the noises?” You whine, not missing the way his pointy teeth peek out from his lips as he smiles bemusedly.
—genre: angst, a sprinkle of fluff, inexplicit smut, romance, fae!taehyung, fantasy au, royalty au
—pairing: kim taehyung x reader
—rating: 18+
—warnings: this story contains dark themes (war, grief, loss of loved ones), kidnapping scene, mentions of blood, character deaths, implied depression & suicidal actions, brief violence and gore (decapitation), swearings
—summary: The Faeries of Ethelaven have always been known as the vicious ones. They revel in torturing humans that come within their grasps. Yet, you find yourself living amongst them for over a year now and they aren’t exactly like how the rumours portray them to be, especially the King. Not when he’s willing to stay by your side even when your past starts to haunt you.
Alternatively, V has always wanted to open himself up ever since he met you. You, on the other hand, are hesitant on how fast things are moving and at the self-doubt gnawing inside you.
“I saved a piece for you.” (009)
[req / @bangtansugakookie]
“I swear to God, you guys better not have ate it all,” Taehyung’s tone is venomous, if not, deadly as he stands by the kitchen door. Jungkook’s yelp is almost audible when Jimin gives the boy a harsh smack but Jungkook retaliates with a kick to his hyung’s shin. Taehyung stands there, glaring with folded arms, “What did I say about eating the cake?”
“W-Well, it depends on how you look at it and—“
“You’re not saving our asses here, hyung,” Jungkook grinds out quietly, only to close his eyes with a whimper when Taehyung strides forward, giving the both of them a hit on the shoulders. “Get out of here,”
They bolt and make a run for it immediately, the pair of them returning back to their bedroom. With a faint smile, you appear behind Taehyung, nudging him lightly by leaning forward to bump shoulders. He looks over with a frown, huffing, “I knew they’d eat it all, they’re always like this… I didn’t even get to try…”
He looks so sad, it’s like he’s replicating a puppy that couldn’t get his favorite snack. You try not to poke on it too much, revealing the surprise when you say, “Which is why I saved a piece for you,” Your hands behind your back now come to view in front of Taehyung. He blinks a few times, only to notice the slice of cake you had in the container he hadn’t taken the time to take note of. “H-How did you—“
“Just thought I should make sure you’d get a piece,” You slide it onto the counter, “And the biggest one, I might add,” then reaching to hold onto his hands with a grin that showers him with kisses all over his skin, “Still upset?”
With your eyes warming up his own, calming his nerves down, rooting him back safely, he shakes his head with a growing smile, “No.”
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader
⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+
⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin
⟶ WC: 16.2k+
⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc
⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk
⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for.
⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time!
⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi
Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.
“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”
“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements.
“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.
The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.
A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.
For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.
“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.
Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.
Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line.
For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.
Then it happened.
Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.
He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.
Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves.
With his head on a silver platter.
Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.
The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.
“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”
“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.
“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”
His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.
White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide.
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child.
One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.
But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.
You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.
Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.
The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.
Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.
You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.
“Princess Y/n.”
A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior.
“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”
“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”
“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.
“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”
“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”
You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual.
At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.
You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.
The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.
Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.
“Princess –”
“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.
You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.
“You’re upset,” he affirms.
“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”
You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?
Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind.
Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.
“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”
Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.
Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.
Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.
“That’s selfish of you.”
You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.
Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom.
You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.
Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?
Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura.
You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.
Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.
“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.
But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.
Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.
“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.
You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.
“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.
Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.
Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.
You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.
More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.
You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.
“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.
Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.
They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.
Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.
Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.
A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.
“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.
The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.
“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.
A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.
The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.
You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.
Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.
Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.
You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.
Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.
“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late.
It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle.
In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.
But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.
“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.
“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”
He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.
“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”
It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.
“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”
You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.
“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.
“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”
Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.
“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”
Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat.
He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.
“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”
You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.
“B-But –”
“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock.
He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.
Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.
“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.
Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.
“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.
“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her.
The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.
Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans.
They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.
“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.
“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”
Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.
You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.
“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.
Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.
The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.
She looks at you with panic, “Run!”
In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines.
A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.
One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.
It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.
The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.
He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call.
The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.
A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.
“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.
You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.
Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.
You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.
His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.
You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.
It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.
His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.
Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings.
Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.
You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.
“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.
He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.
You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.
A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.
“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”
The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.
His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.
“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.
From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.
“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.
“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.
She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.
You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.
Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.
“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”
You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.
The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.
“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.
“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”
“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.
“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”
All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more.
When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.
He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.
“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.
“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.
Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.
“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”
You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.
“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace.
You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.
“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.
“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”
“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.
His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.
Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.
“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”
The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.
It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.
“You’re freezing,” he states.
“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.
“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”
He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.
Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.
“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”
“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”
“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”
You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.
“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”
“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”
“I am the royal family!”
“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”
The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.
You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.
“Go.”
The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.
The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.
“Prin –”
“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.
“Just, go.” You command.
“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.
Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.
A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.
It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.
The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.
“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”
Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.
When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?
And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.
Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.
“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”
Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you.
He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.
As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.
He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.
His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.
Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.
He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.
“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.
He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.
Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.
A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.
You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.
Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.
It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.
His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.
Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.
“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”
He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back.
This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.
His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.
Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.
For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family.
You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.
Perhaps you slept awful, used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.
The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.
But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed?
Absolutely not.
Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.
You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.
Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.
“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.
Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.
He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.
This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.
You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.
The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.
“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.
“I am being honest with you,” you declare.
“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.
Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.
“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”
You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.
“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.
“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.
You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.
“Why are you here?” You dare to question.
A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.
“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”
“Why are you still here then…?”
Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.
“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” You blink.
“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.
“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”
“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.
“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”
“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.
“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”
Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.
“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.
“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”
He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.
“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”
In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.
“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”
You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.
His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.
“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”
Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you.
There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.
Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.
A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth.
When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.
You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.
“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.
“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”
Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.
“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.
“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t,” you sniffle.
Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.
You accept him and this moment of time.
The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.
The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.
“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”
Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.
He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.
You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.
After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.
Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.
Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.
“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.
He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.
You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.
Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.
“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.
He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.
Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.
His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.
“Quiet, Princess. Please.”
“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.
“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.
He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.
Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.
Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.
Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.
The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.
“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.
“Want and need are two different things.”
“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”
He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.
“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”
Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.
“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself.
He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.
You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.
“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.
Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips.
Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.
“Oh,” you whimper.
Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.
The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.
“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.
You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.
“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”
Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure.
You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.
There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.
“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.
“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.
Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.
Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.
With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.
Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.
It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.
“I love you.”
Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.
You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.
“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.
You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.
“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”
“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body.
Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.
“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”
The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.
Summary: Your village was surrounded by a never-ending forest. Every 20 years, for as long as the village people could remember, offerings were held for the beast who roamed the forest. It was the only way your village could remain safe. This times offering, you were one of the women being offered up to the beast. You only hoped that you could make it out alive.
Pairing: Werewolf Jungkook x Human Sacrifice reader
Genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, werewolf au, angst, bts au, medieval fantasy au,
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: not much, drug concoction, slight drugging, some minor violence, normal medieval female treatment, mentions of sacrifice, mentions of death, mentions of kidnapping, protective Jungkook, possessive Jungkook, shitty villagers, women trying to fight back, mc not being able to fight back, weird mate rituals,
Masterlist // Navigation
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The morning light had just began to creep over the tree line on the edge of your village. You lived in a quiet village, one where everyone knew everyone and the peace between families was always kept. Your own family resided close to the edge of the forest, surrounded by a small field your family used for farming. You produced most of the vegetables for the town.
Unfortunately, it was your job to take care of most of the crops, your elder brother out of town right now. He was out looking for an “appropriate wife”, not that you thought anyone fit that title.
As the second eldest, it was your responsibility to take on your brother, Jacob’s, jobs. You knew you would be next though, your father and mother already trying to make matches for you with men from your village.
⟶ Summary | A threat against your father’s empire has forced him to send you away from the only place you have known to be your home, from the heaven-like prison which you have always dreamed about escaping, only to find yourself in a new kind of confinement. Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away.
⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader
⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au, Faerie au, Angst, Mystery, Smut
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; this story contains classism, threats of assassination, curses, dark magic, rumours about serial killers, mentions of abductions, mentions of arranged marriages, betrayal, manipulation, depiction of war, fantasy typical violence, mentions of blood and wounds, minor descriptions/depictions of injuries, fantasy weapons (swords, etc), mentions/depictions of death, mentions/depictions of domestic abuse, alcohol use — also includes mature and explicit sexual scenes (…more details will be added as I continue writing this piece…)
⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: chapter i. when the stars are aligned (July 24th, 2023) - 15,1k words of n/a words
⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Music Playlist | Ko-fi
𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…
⏤ Written by @yoonia for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab; with @jamaisjoons, @yeoldontknow, @inkedtae, @opaljm, @kookdiaries, @kth1fics
Plot: You’re on the edge. Do the dishes, warm the milk, change diapers, cook lunch, try to get some sleep in between and start all over again; it’s taking you every part of yourself to try and be flawless in raising your daughter. Jungkook is here by your side though; why can’t you just lean on him?
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, Established Relationship, Parenthood
Wordcount: 3.7k
Content Warning: swearing
Author’s Note: Hello! They are back🥺 I loved writing To love and pamper so much that I had to write a part two. Take this as a gift for our Bangtan’s 10 years!💜 I hope everyone of you is staying healthy and happy these days.
The gif is not mine, it belongs to @jung-koook.
Let me know if you want to be part of my taglist so I can tag you when my new works come out!
Early mornings with Jungkook taste like strawberries, extremely sweet. Maybe it’s the way he holds you unconsciously in his sleep, or the way his hot breath delicately hits your face, but it makes you never want to leave. The soft glow coming from the dim light on your nightstand is long gone, the rays of the sun coming from the window slowly took up over the darkness during the night, they touch Jungkook’s features gently, careful as if not to wake him up.
His lips parted, eyes shut and cheeks full, soft snoring. You kicked him tonight, just enough to make him stop snoring too loudly for you to sleep, for at least a bit. It helped until he started again. You wonder why when you have to get up he suddenly starts to snore less, as if to play with you. It makes you want to dive right back between the sheets before you even got out.
You sigh, looking over at Baram. They say that things will be getting better in a bit, that it will be easier, you just have to get used to it. You love her, totally, wholeheartedly, with all of you. But sometimes it just gets unbearable. This is new to you, the both of you. Jungkook is doing better, even though there are still times when he breaks down. It happens to you too, but usually you don’t let yourself slip too much. It’s just that you’re scared; she’s so tiny, so fragile and vulnerable, so defenceless and you have to teach her how to face the world, you have to protect her and lead her through it all, when even you yourself still kind of don’t know how to.
Jungkook’s arms squeeze you tighter, as if he heard your thoughts. It makes you smile, your heart calming for a bit. He still has his eyes closed, his brows furrowed and lips pouting.
«Don’t go» he murmurs, voice low and sleepy. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, sending shivers to your spine as his hair tickle your skin. Your hand reaches them, playing with the strands, his lips leave pecks, soft ones that hold an incredible amount of love, too much even, for this early hours of the day.
It’s comforting, to feel his warmth around you and his hands on your body.
«I have to clean up» you’re not really prone to leave the bed either, but you still try to.
«I can do it later» he whines, holding you tighter. His fingers caress your back, kisses getting down on your shoulder. His hair are disheveled and you know that yours are too, all over the place.
«You have rehearsals,» you let out «and Baram is going to wake up in a bit and I won’t be ready»
«What time is it?» his grumpy voice sends a weird shiver down your spine. You glance at your phone on the nightstand, eyes narrowing to protect themselves from the light of the screen.
«Seven and ten» you let him know. Though it doesn’t look like the new information is going to change anything for Jungkook.
«Please, wanna cuddle» he pleads, eyes shut, his digits digging into your skin.
«Kook, I don’t have time for it. It’s the only time I can do things without having to check on Baram, when she’ll wake up I won’t be able to-»
«You’re so noisy» he complains. You let out a huff, trying to get out of his grasp.
«Kook, let go. You can sleep more, just let me go» If only his arms weren’t so strong you wouldn’t have any problems.
«Not gonna» he mumbles. You sigh annoyed.
«Then don’t, but let me go anyway!»
You didn’t mean to, but you raise your voice a little too much. It echoes in the room and you pray every single god that was ever worshipped tha-
Baram breaks out in a cry, loud and angry, incredibly so. For a moment, you still. Suddenly getting up doesn’t feel so electrifying anymore. You force yourself to do it, though. Leave the warm sheets and the soft mattress, sit up and-
«I’ll take her» Jungkook stops you with a hand on your back, a second later he’s already up and standing beside her cradle.
You watch him bend down and narrow his eyes at her, cheeks stained with the lines of the fabric of his pillow and face totally sleepy. He cooes at her, taking her in his arms as carefully as he possibly can. He lulls her a little as he makes his way back to your bed, Baram still crying desperately in his hold.
You sigh and lift the covers.
«Where are you going?» his big eyes skim over your body, upper half covered in one of his shirts, definitely too big for you, legs displayed only for him to see.
«Getting her paci and the diapers» you announce. Jungkook shakes his head.
«She just needs her pacifier, she didn’t poo»
«She will soon!» you tell back. Jungkook huffs, letting you do your thing. This is not the right moment to pick up a fight, even if it’s a little one. With Baram in his arms, his top priority has to be her. So he lulls her, sings a bit at her and wipes her unstopping tears with his thumb, only that finger taking up more than half of her face.
You come back in a minute, pacifier in your hands and a new pack of diapers in the other, wipes blocked between your chest and the inside of your arm. As soon as the pacifier goes into her mouth all of her worries fade away, too distracted with the new element in her mouth. You watch her features soften, face from angry red going back to a pure sweet pink; and so does your heart. With seeing her easing, seeing her stop her cries. It might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but god, do you love her. It’s in moments like this that you realise how lucky you are, when you see her calm down and realise that yes, you’ve got this, at least for now.
Jungkook let’s out a heavy breath, still lulling her from time to time. He gets up slowly and does the same as he walks, afraid that even the slightest hint of movement will disturb your 4 months old baby. He walks in circles, arms swinging from side to side gently and eyes never leaving her face. They look like out of a fairytale, out of a movie. It makes your stomach twist and turn with love, suddenly overwhelmed to the point that a smile graces your features. You watch from afar, his dark locks have become too long to not get in the way of his eyesight, hanging down as he looks at the same eyes as his, closed in a silent sleep. You can’t see his expression because of the strands of his hair, but his smile is contagious. Every time he looks at her, god, the world makes sense. Finally. And to believe that such a beautiful creature, a fragile little soul that still has to go a long way, was made by you and him; that thought renders him breathless all the time.
He walks back to her cradle, carefully laying her down and back under the covers. You let out a sigh of relief and head out of the bedroom, straight to your kitchen. There are so many things to do that you lost count. It’s not like your kitchen is one of those where there’s dirt on the floor and too many piles of dishes in the sink, but it’s not exactly clean either; with Baram waking up every two to three hours of the night your sleep schedule has become a nightmare, both yours and Jungkook. You start to do something, then feel the need to rest, take a nap and go back to do what you were doing, but things like making lunch and dinner or do the laundry, things you cannot actually postpone, take over most of the day. And then there’s work, Jungkook’s and yours. Your schedules have been remade and remade several times to help yourselves with your daughter, but even with all your efforts you always end up extremely tired. Jungkook has rehearsals on his own most of the time, the times he chooses usually don’t fit with the others because of their schedule, so they end up meeting once a week to rehears all together. He still has to go to the outside meetings, wether it is an interview, a new project or a shoot; not all the time, but a great number. It doesn’t happen every day, but three to four days of the week he’s working. You’re okay with it, after all he can’t just say no to his job, you wouldn’t want him to, you know he loves it.
It’s the same for you, after all. Its just that you’re not required to be in a studio to work, at least not one like his. You have one at home, your paintings and the smell of clay filling both the space and the air. So your days go by, busy and stressful but full with love and adoration for your little one.
«What are you doing?» Jungkook is standing at the kitchen door, hair disheveled and eyes still not used to the light of the morning. You didn’t hear him coming out.
«The dishes» you say. He gulps, lips pouty and hands aching to hold you.
«Please come back to bed» he pleads still from the doorway. With how you sigh though, his ministrations seem to change, steps shortening the distance between you and him. He stops behind you, arms on their way to your waist before you block him with your next words.
«I don’t have time to lose, Jungkook»
«You consider it a loss of time to spend some time with me?» He’s annoyed. You can hear it in his voice, how sharp it sounds.
«You know I don’t mean it that way» you shake your head, grabbing another dish from the sink.
«Do you?» his question makes you turn. Eyes gazing at him, his face scrunched up as he’s thinking hard on something. Brows furrowed and lips pouty again, eyes focused in yours.
«It’s been what, two weeks since we last cuddled? Or when we went out together? When I come to bed most of the nights you’re already asleep and-»
«Cause I’m tired?»
«Yes, I am too Y/N»
«Great, welcome to the team» your answer makes him grimace, but it gets worse when you add: «What do you want me to do, spend the only free time I have laying on the bed and doing nothing?»
Jungkook suddenly feels like a cold jet of water is getting sprayed on him. Cheeks burning and blood hot, both angry and hurt. Something deep inside him stings, burns and bends, twisting in all the ways as it tries to break and come out unfiltered.
«Are dishes more important than us? Really?» Your eyebrows raise up.
«When did I ever said that?»
«You’re doing it now» he scoffs.
«Is it so hard for you to relax, just a bit?»
«I’m not! I’m just saying that this is the only moment I have to just-»
«It’s the only moment we’re together too!» he raises his voice a bit, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glassy, lips pouty. He gulps harshly.
«We’re always busy, is it so hard to just spend some time together?» his voice is trembling, as if he’s on the verge of breaking. It stops your breath, a big tight knot fills up all the space in your throat, your hands drying themselves on your trousers.
«We do it, Jungkook» your voice softens as you let out your words. They make Jungkook’s head shake slowly, he lowers his gaze and fixes it on the ground.
«I just miss you» he whispers. The hurt is clear in his voice, shoulders dropping. You feel your heart tighten, fingertips aching to caress his soft cheeks just at looking at him like this.
«Kook, I’m sorry…» you breathe out, guilt taking over you.
Jungkook hates this. Hates that you don’t spend together as much time as you used to; he knew it was about to happen with the birth of Baram, but still he hates it anyway. He doesn’t blame it on her, because why would he, he could never even if he tried to. But still, he hates it. He misses it, craves for your touch, craves for your caresses, your warmth around him, the feeling of having you close not just in a sexual way but in whatever way possible. He misses spending evenings on the sofa under the covers, soft and sweet kisses layered on each other’s skin in silence and between low giggles, as if they were meant just for the two of you, a little secret fuelling love to your hearts.
«I… I miss you» Jungkook sighs, low and barely hearable, shoulders down and eyes on the ground. Your heart sinks deeper into your chest, heavy and sad at the look on his face. You feel your throat tightening, your eyes sting. You don’t want him to feel abandoned or not important enough, never. But there’s just- too much. Too much things to take care of, too many things to do and to look after, too much effort to try and anticipate the next move, to take care of everything, to be careful about being wrong, that you’re just-
«I know baby, and I’m sorry» you nod, «but I don’t know how to- I’m- I’m just-» your voice trembles and suddenly you’re crying. Crying in sobs, like a little baby, like Baram would.
Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, instantly and so tight it makes you tremble with vulnerability. It’s like a second instinct, to kiss your hair as his fingers dig into your back, careful and pampering.
«I’m sorry» you hiccup, your tears wetting his shirt. You feel so bad for making him feel like this. You spent your time trying to keep everything under control, everything in check and always ready, anticipating every move and every cry, trying to be ready in every condition and situation, you didn’t think-
«It’s okay» he whispers, another kiss lays on your head, «I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby» he snuffles, shaking his head. His eyes burn, his lips move desperately in pouts, trying to hold back the tears, eyes shut. God, he’s so inconsiderate. So fucking inconsiderate and selfish. You gave birth to another human. You are tired. You’re trying your best. You’re stressed. Trying to have everything under control. And he’s here, complaining about you not cuddling him.
«I’m so sorry, please don’t cry» he snuffles again, voice shaky.
«I’m- I care so much about- y-you» you sob, nuzzling into him. Jungkook wants to drown himself in your tears. His heart swells and shrinks at the same time.
«I know, I know» he shakes his head.
«I should’ve- been more considerate, you- you-» you hold him tighter.
«No, you’re right,» you mumble against his shirt «I was just- so- I feel like I have to be careful of everything and I’m- I’m burning out»
Jungkook knows. He can see it, every time that you anticipate your next moves or the ones of your baby, every time that you let go he can see it that you’re not fully relaxed, that you’re on the edge. But he is here too, he is part of this too. And it makes him feel bad that you don’t rely on him just as half as you rely on yourself. He is your man, your person, your lover and you shouldn’t be the only one burdened; even if he is too, he doesn’t want you to think that you have to hold it all together.
«Rely on me» he snuffles.
«I do it already»
«You don’t do it enough» he lays a kiss on your forehead, and you feel wetness on your skin. He must’ve lost his battle with the tears and gave up at some point. When you raise your glance his eyes are puffy, red with tears and oh, so incredibly deep. It’s like looking at two ponds, so clear and majestic that for a second you lose your focus. His dimples show up as he gulps, trying to gain back his sobriety, cheeks wet.
«Stop holding it all in» Jungkook sniffs and his lips twitch, his voice is shaking and you can feel your heart being wrapped tightly by a fist and being desperately squeezed.
«Let- let it out, you- let it out on m- me» he’s on the verge of breaking, holding back the new tears as they pool into his eyes.
«Ple- please» and so he does. He sobs, and you lose it too. Seeing him so fragile, broken, something snaps inside of you.
«I- I hate not being ab-able to take it away from yo-u» he sobs, lips trembling, fingers digging into your back.
«We chose this to- together» he hiccups, his nose digs into your neck, runny and wet.
«You are- you’re the most- important thing. You and Ba- Baram. I’m part of this too, just- why can’t you let go? I… I- give me some weight»
«I can do it- I know I can but- you won’t let me. Baby, I love you- I-»
You’ve never seen Jungkook so broken. You’ve seen him cry, many times actually, but like this, never. You hate it. All the pain, all the tears, you wish you could take them from him and make them yours, make it all go away. You squeeze him so tight you’re afraid you will leave him breathless, fingers digging into his skin and lips on his neck, kissing away the problems. Then, you realise. And god, it makes you want to slap yourself in the face.
He must be feeling like this. Just the same as you do. It’s unbearable to see him hurting and not being able to do anything about it, but that’s what you’ve been doing all this time too. You wanted to do your best and ended up trying but left him out, only focusing on Baram most of the times.
«I love you so much- that… I don’t know , sometimes when- I feel like I will explode when I look at you, I- I love you that much. Baram is our- our daughter and we’re a family and I’m- I just want to be a good dad-»
«You are, Jungkook» you whisper.
«You are, baby. I’m so sorry, I was-» you shiver and his hands dig deeper into your back.
«I was just on the edge cause I’m not used to this. It’s still all new and I- I just wanted it all to be perfect and I tried so hard that- I lost sight of us. I was so focused, I-»
«It’s not just us» he murmurs on your neck
«It’s you too. I hate seeing you like this, cause- I know you and when I tell you to- when I tell you to relax I don’t do it just for us, I know you need it too. Your brain has to stop working and- you have to know that there’s someone going through this with you»
«Like- earlier, why can’t you just lay down and relax? I know- know that Baram is a lot to handle and she need attention but- you need it too. You need to take care of yourself cause I- I would be…» his hiccups get muffled by your neck, and you feel his lips tremble on your skin. He lays a kiss on it, shaking and shivering.
«I would be lost without you. Totally- lost. Please. Just- I will wash the dishes, fuck the dishes. If they stay there, what? So what? I want us to be fine, I want you to feel supported and support me but if you don’t let me, I- I can’t»
«Please, just… let me help. It hurts, it hurts a lot not to be able to be of any help to my family. Love, I-»
«I’m sorry» you whisper again, tears wetting your cheeks. You cut him out, and you didn’t even realise it. You wanted to be the best for your daughter and ended up only counting on yourself and making him feel useless most of the times.
«I promise you, I promise I will try my best- to let go. I’m- I’m not doing the dishes, fuck the dishes» you hear him laugh lightly, a deep kiss layered down again on your skin.
«I didn’t realise what I was doing. I was just scared. She’s so fragile and little and I was so afraid of doing something wrong. I was selfish, I-»
«You weren’t. You were just scared» he kisses you again.
«We’re together» he whispers. You nod, face hiding in the crook of his neck.
«We’re together» you smile. You wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt, trying to hold back another hiccup.
«It’s alright now, ssh…» Jungkook holds you tighter, body against yours practically glued together. It doesn’t make you feel spaceless though, it makes you breathe. For the first time in months, you feel like you’re breathing again. Even with your runny nose and the tears on Jungkook’s cheeks, the both of you feel light now.
«I love you so much baby, you don’t even know» he whispers.
«I think I know» you kiss his shoulder. Jungkook smiles, his head leaving the the space of your neck and his starry eyes looking straight into yours. They’re still wet, but the tears have stopped coming out. A bit red, puffy from both the sleep and your cry.
«Come to bed? Until she wakes up. When she does-» he hiccups, «I’ll warm her milk and change her diaper. And the dishes, I’ll do the dishes and you can lay down a bit more? Do you want me to fill up the bathtub? We can take a bath when she falls asleep again»
«Love, breathe» you chuckle, looking at him and his endless rant. You look at him, and god, how lucky you are. That he loves you, and you love him. That he’s yours, you’re so happy he’s yours.
«Yes, that would be perfect» you smile.
Jungkook gulps, cheekbones raising and eyes filling with warmth and affection.
«Let’s go. I want to cuddle for at least two minutes. Do you think she will let us?»
I'm here for the drabble game lovely. Congrats on your milestone! Not surprised though.
Can I request...prompts 3 and 15 with Park Jimin. Can it have some angst and a fluffy ending please!? Thanks love 💜
~summary: when you hide yourself away, maybe the reaper can bring some light
Jimin x reader
Prompts: is death that bad when he’s the face of it & have you eaten? and had water? the normal human being things
~word count: 653
~fantasy, reaper!Jimin, established relationship, angst, fluff
Rating: pg15
Warnings: depressive behaviour, reader neglecting herself, mentions of death, dependency (but is actively discouraged)
~a/n: thank you so much Ley! you’re so sweet🥺💜as for your drabble, I really hope you enjoy it! You choices defo gave me a lot to think about, but when I got this idea I really enjoyed writing it x
Darkness was settled over the house as if it had always been there, light leaving the windows well alone as if the sun knew it hadn’t been invited. Only the faintest glow nuzzled through the curtains.
Even in the dim room, the outline of your form was visible. Well, the layers of duvets cocooning you were.
Staring uselessly into the gloom, you continued to let your body lie, utterly still.
Somewhere, you knew this wasn’t good. You shouldn’t continue this self-pity you had dug yourself into, but the weight in your heart refused to shift.
Another equally small, equally strong part as the angel on your shoulder, had some selfish hope of seeing Jimin again. The ache the reaper left whenever he couldn’t be with you was incomparable.
In such quiet, the merest sigh would interrupt your reverie.
But when one did fall in the air, drifting to you like fog, you were certain it was a mirage, something conjured from the longing you were steeped in. And so it wasn’t until a shadow passed in front of you that you blinked, looked twice.
On perfectly silent feet, Jimin stepped from the corner of your room. Having cast his piercing eyes over it already, they were now fixed solely on you.
Air streamed into your lungs as you finally pushed yourself from the pillow. You must have forgotten to breathe since you last saw him.
Without being touched, curtains fluttered aside to let the sunlight enter, pale and tentative.
Pushing your head up was already enough of a strain, dull claws dragging your balance away as your vision sparked. Flinching away from the light, you heard a light tsk.
“This looks an awful lot like a deathbed, darling.”
Soft hands, almost spectres, cupped your face. Vision returning as you looked into pale eyes, your lips fell open without words to offer him.
With a sigh, he pushed aside the blankets, mattress depressing as he sat with you, hands never leaving your face. Quirking a brow, he searched your face.
“Have you eaten? And had water? Hmm? The normal human being things.”
You could only chew on your lip, a breath of a laugh leaving you despite the guilt pooling in your stomach.
But Jimin didn’t let you escape him, gentle hands pulling you to him until your silhouettes left barely a sunbeam between you. Running his hands gently down your sides, Jimin’s breath fanned across your face as yours caught in your throat.
“I know a certain man who would be very upset if you were neglecting yourself.”
“Is death that bad when he’s the face of it?” you whispered, one finger tracing his jaw.
“It’s not your time, love,” his murmur came in response.
Your steady exhale filled the space between you, his words still sitting heavy in the air.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed eventually, “I’ve been trying…”
“I know, love. Now, about that food, hmm?”
At last, you were able to melt into him as he lifted you from your makeshift nest, light falling across both your forms as he moved to the kitchen. Setting you down, he pressed slow kisses to your forehead until you raised your face, lips finally meeting.
Your eyelids fluttered shut, indulging in taste of him against your mouth.
Reality unfurled around you once more as Jimin left one last kiss, lingering there before you found him replaced by the rim of a glass. Still, you discovered you had been craving water as much as him and gladly drank it down.
“Thank you.” You set the glass back at your side. “I missed you, Jimin.”
Another kiss, smiling into your forehead. Then he dragged his face down until you were eye to eye.
“And I missed you. But you already have me forever-“ light fingers pushed at a strand of hair before running down your face “-so make the most of this world for now, okay?”
Thank you for reading, and thanks again Ley for your wonderful request!!
Can you make a smut for myg? Like wake the reader up using his c_ck? It'd be fun if there's also a friend on the other bed sleeping, and the thrill is no one can make a noise 👌
→ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader
→ Summary: Yoongi wakes you up early in the morning in the best way possible. Only rule: don't wake up Namjoon who sleeps just a few feet away from you.
→ Word Count: 1,198
→ Type: One shot
→ Genre: established relationship, pwp
→ Main Masterlist: here
→ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.
→ Warnings: Explicit language, voyeurism (i mean namjoon is literally right there) unprotected vaginal sex (pls don't do this), clit play, light dirty talk, almost somnophilia but reader is awake and 100% consenting
Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios
Published: June 6, 2022
Warmth shuffles behind you. You’re pulled out of sleep a little, humming as you shift backwards into the furnace of a body behind you. It’s soft and comforting, earning a sigh as you drift back toward your sleep, body sinking into the feeling.
Soft breath fans your neck before your pulled back from sleep once more. A soft kiss to the flesh, luring you toward the surface. You make an annoyed sound, aware enough to know that the huff of soft laughter is coming from your boyfriend curled behind you.
Yoongi is persistent, kissing behind your ear, the nape of your neck, your shoulder. You wiggle under the covers and he makes a sound, hands shooting to your waist and drawing you back into him.
Your eyes flutter open now, half-awake as he presses his hardening cock to your thin pajamas. His hands are warm and firm squeezing your ass gently as he leans forward to nibble on your ear. It feels so good that you lean back into him, only mutely aware that Namjoon is dead asleep in the bed across the room for you.
It’s morning dark outside the hotel curtains. Your eyes are pulled open again when Yoongi sucks a mark into your neck.
“Quiet for me, yeah?” he murmurs. His hands skim the top of your pajama shorts, brushing to play with the hemline at your stomach. “Need you so bad.”
You turn your head. “Namjoon is –“
“Snoring.” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.” His voice is rasping, dark eyes looking at yours. You melt – Yoongi never begs. Ever. His hand dips under the hem, making you shiver as he slides his hand between your legs and buries his face in your neck. “Fucking wet. Please.”
Without words, you nod. You close your eyes and lean back into him, a hand drifting behind you as you palm his cock over his sweatpants. Yoongi is good at being silent – he is a master at it. He gives a shaky breath as you squeeze, but makes no other noise.
You, on the other hand, tremble under his touch. Yoongi’s fingers are slow and lazy as they circle your clit slowly, sending muted pleasure through you. You’re still exhausted – the three of you had a late night out on the town to celebrate Yoongi and Namjoon’s business meeting at a potential label for them, and you were weary to the bone.
Yoongi nips at your neck and you clap your hand over your mouth, sound almost escaping. “Shh,” he hums. “Be a good girl for me. Think you can take me?”
You nod, nearly panting. He licks a stripe up your neck, carefully removing his fingers from your pussy. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, hypnotized by the way he grins with tired eyes as he pops the slick covered fingers in his mouth.
You almost moan out loud. Quick hands pull your pajamas down to your knees. You’re burning hot under the covers but you don’t dare lower them any, eyes fixated on the sleeping lump in the bed across from you as Yoongi’s tip prods your hole.
A sound escapes you. Yoongi’s hand grips your face over the mouth, turning your head so that you’re angle toward the ceiling, fingers muting you. You’re panting under his touch, every curl of his hot breath against your neck fueling the arousal dripping between your legs.
Slowly, Yoongi slides into you. Your eyes shutter closed and you sigh, becoming pliant beneath his touch. He uses the hand not clamping your mouth to hold your leg up just enough for him to slowly thrust into you.
And fuck it feels so good. Every inch of his thick cock slowly slides into your heat, making you warm all over, flushed as the tip lazily strokes your g-spot. You hide your face in the pillow, teeth clenching around the fabric as Yoongi does the work, using the leg in his hand to help pull you back and forth onto his cock.
Your throat tightens, begging to let out a sound. Yoongi’s lips are all over your skin, spiking your pleasure further. Even at the slow, gentle pace he is hitting deep inside of you, making your stomach twist.
Another sound escapes you on accident, making Yoongi still. You hold your breath, peeking up at the sleeping lump of Namjoon. At any fucking moment he could roll over and look at you, thinking you were asleep. There is nothing to suggest that Yoongi’s cock is plunged at the hilt, that the fingers on your thighs are gripping you fiercely.
“Do you want him to wake up, hmm?” Yoongi’s voice is low, nearly inaudible. “Want Namjoon to know I have you split open with my cock a few feet away from him? That your greedy pussy is just fuckin’ taking me first thing in the morning?”
Your skin is hot all over, stinging where he’s sucked marks into your skin and where you’re flushed. You shake your need, burying you face into your pillow as Yoongi fucks slowly into you again, teeth pulling at your earlobe.
It is so mind numbing and perfect that you’re just panting, eyes closed, letting Yoongi fuck himself into you as you fist the sheets, not paying any attention until he stops suddenly and tucks his face in your neck.
You peek upward. Namjoon shuffles, getting up and stretching. Your heart begins pounding in your ears as he rubs his face and stumbles to his feet, careful not to make noise as he walks toward the bathroom, half-asleep. Yoongi doesn’t dare breathe behind you, cock throbbing in your heat.
The bathroom door clicks, but for a moment, neither of you move. It isn’t until the shower starts running that Yoongi launches into action, throwing the blanket off of you as he sinks his teeth in your shoulder, fucking into you with fervor.
You gasp, head thrown back as he slams his hips into you, the wet sounds of you dripping for him barely audible over the shower.
“Fuck,” you pant. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
Each curse is punctuated by the slap of his hips, his stilted breath. The hand holding your leg abandons you, leaving you to hold it up yourself as his fingers apply pressure to your clit, nearly making you scream.
“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Need you to cum all over my cock before Joonie finishes his shower.”
“Yoongi,” you whisper, one hand grabbing his forearm, holding the hand he uses so skillyfully against your clit. “Oh my god.”
“Fuck yeah. Gonna cream, baby? All hot and bothered from me fucking you while Joon is right there?”
“Yes yes yes.”
“Cum,” Yoongi growls.
Your orgasm snaps into place like a rubberband. Yoongi shoves his fingers into your mouth, muting the scream of his name as you squeeze his cock, legs trembling and eyes seeing stars with the force of it.
Yoongi cums immediately after, huffing as he slows his thrusts until he’s breathing heavily behind you, hand settled on your stomach.
Gently, Yoongi kisses the back of your neck. “Love you.”
Summary: It was close to winter, and your medicine was nearly complete for you to use. But when it came to, you helped another whose wounds were life threatening. Now, random items kept showing up on your porch, with each item bringing you closer to the creature you healed. And when he returned, he saved you. Now, with him, you felt like you were home.
Warnings: stupid village people, healer mc, injuries, mention of blood, angry villagers, protective yoongi, stealing, soulmate yoongi, yoongi being the biggest simp, violence, threats, drunk mr. lee, unwanted pursuing, fleeing your home, mainly just simp yoongi, sick mc, talk of illness,
(please let me know if I miss any tag/warning)
Masterlist // Navigation
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You were sick. That much you could tell.
You had been raised by your grandmother, the village healer, and had known the signs of sickness well. You helped your grandmother many times, healing various people within the community.
People had even come from lands over for the opportunity to be healed by your grandmother, her talent talked about my numerous travelers over the years. It was amazing, watching her heal the sick and wounded, and your attraction to healing helped you to grow as well. Soon enough, you had become a healer, taking over for the village after your grandmother passed on a couple of winters ago.
But now, it was you that was sick, and you were missing ingredients that you knew would help. Your breathing was beginning to be hoarse, the longer you tried to find the elderberries you grew up picking.
Warnings: mentions of a break-up, mentions of loneliness
Word Count: 1.9k
Disclaimers: None other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: You're all alone in your new city, save for the handsome man you keep seeing around your neighborhood, and the mysterious pianist who lives upstairs.
A/N: I wrote this back in November and then just let it sit for a while, thinking I might add more. But now I think I like it as a short one-shot, so here it is, in time for Yoongi's b-day! The inspiration came from this tweet:
Tell me hoooooooooooow I wrote a letter to the pianist upstairs and said how much I love hearing them play and they came downstairs to thank me ONLY TO FIND OUT IT WAS THE CUTE DUDE I KEEP BUMPING INTO?!?!
Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕
Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜
It's your third night in your new apartment when you hear it.
Hushed at first, then gradually growing louder as the song crescendos–someone is playing the piano. The music swirls around you, and you sit up in your bed, the book you were reading resting on your lap as you crane your neck to better hear the enchanting melody drifting down through the ceiling above.
It happens again the next evening. And the one after that. Almost nightly, you find yourself the unwitting audience for a performance from the pianist who lives upstairs. You can't help but wonder if that was the reason the previous tenant was so eager to break their lease, allowing you to move in sooner than you'd originally planned. Most people might not enjoy a near daily private concert.
You aren't most people.
It's never the same song twice. One night, it's a buoyant contemporary piece that you identify as the theme song to a prestigious arthouse film. The next, it's a mournful classical solo that has you nearly weeping into your dinner. Your mystery performer's talent and range astound you, and you feel fortunate to hear every note.
Maybe it's a good omen. A sign that you've made the right decision coming here to the big city, striking a tiny chord of hope within you that there may be more amazing discoveries just waiting to be found.
A month after you've moved in, you are still finding your way around. You've taken to wandering the streets on early morning walks, trying to orient yourself better. Earbuds replace the hustle and bustle of the city with the soothing sounds of classical music, a new interest that you directly link to your unseen neighbor's recitals. Each day, you watch the sun rise over your new hometown to the stirring strings of a symphony, letting the orchestra carry you away.
As much as you like your new place, you're rather lonely. Your coworkers at your new job are nice, but most live outside the city and don't stick around after hours, commuting home to their families as soon as the work day ends. The only person you know here is your boyfriend, but he's so busy that you've only seen him a handful of times. The two of you had been doing the long-distance thing for over a year, and while your job is what lured you here, he is the reason you ultimately decided to accept the position.
A new movement begins, a minuet that has you stepping quickly in time with the music. Humming along under your breath, you round a corner, heading back to your apartment, and promptly collide with something. No, someone. A minty-haired man, not much taller than you, slender, with the loveliest dark eyes you've ever seen.
And the most intimidating scowl that makes you immediately apologize.
"I'm so sorry!" you gasp, as the man releases his tight grip on your arms. One glance at your fretful expression and his face relaxes. He almost looks sleepy now as he peers at you, and you try not to stare, awestruck by how gorgeous he is.
"S'alright," he mumbles, "no worries. Wasn't watching where I was going, sorry." The corner of his mouth twitches as he gives you the tiniest of smiles, but it's enough to ease your mind. "Have a good day, ok?" he calls over his shoulder as he passes by, and you smile too late at his retreating figure before shaking yourself and heading on your way.
You see him again a few weeks later, queuing in line at this little coffee shop you'd discovered a few blocks from your place. It's sandwiched between a dry cleaner and a bank, easily overlooked in a city where the big chains are located on every other corner. He's ahead of you, and when he turns to leave, he spots you and inclines his head, lips curling slightly in recognition. You nod back.
He's at the diner where you eat your lunches on the weekend, sitting in the window, watching the crowds roll by. He's at the basement bookstore where you load your basket with more books than a person could possibly need. You notice him all over your neighborhood, that pretty hair catching your eye like a beacon, reminding you of spring and new beginnings, and every time there is a nod or little smile offered, you accept each one eagerly.
He's technically a stranger, but the gesture still makes you feel seen. A little less alone.
"You're breaking up with me?"
You don't mean to yell the words, but you're caught by surprise. When you'd answered the phone, you’d expected to hear a lame explanation from your boyfriend as to why he was over an hour late to pick you up - traffic was awful (it was always awful in this city), or he had to stay late to close that big sale (he was always working late), or any one of the other million flimsy excuses he seemed to rotate through lately.
But you hadn't expected him to break your heart.
You beg him to reconsider, but he ignores your pleas, telling you that it's been over between you for a long time, that it was so evident to him long before you'd moved here. But it wasn't evident to you. Lying on your bed as you bawl into your phone, you don't notice when the music above you stops, the peppy, upbeat composition breaking off mid-note.
"I just don't understand. I love you! I thought you loved me! But you couldn't even break up with me in person? After all we've been through?" you howl, nearly beside yourself with despair. More words flow from your boyfriend's mouth, but you don't hear any of them as you try and fail to understand. It's several minutes before you realize that he said goodbye one last time.
The room fills with the sound of you sobbing your heart out.
And then the piano begins again. It's not the same bubbly tune from earlier. Softly, tender notes fall like gentle rain, cascading down upon you. Your tears slowly subside, and you inhale a shuddery breath as you focus on the melody. Thanks to your morning walks, you recognize this one. Arabesque No. 1, by Debussy. It's your favorite of his works, even more cherished than the much-loved Clair de Lune.
The pianist upstairs has no way of knowing that it's your favorite, but you can't help but feel like they do. Like they're playing it just for you. Tonight, you're not the audience by default, but by choice. Their choice.
Your breathing begins to even as you lie on top of your blankets, listening intently. You are wrung out, exhausted, but cannot help but lose yourself in rhapsody. The pianist plays so delicately, almost lovingly, and you imagine their fingers dancing lithely over the keys as your eyes flutter shut, the peaceful sonata lulling you to sleep.
Weeks pass. The performances go on. And slowly but surely, you begin to heal.
Hindsight is perfectly clear, of course. Looking back, you see that the distance between you and your ex was more than just physical. And it really was obvious. Just as obvious as the fact that you are now completely alone.
Yet that tiny chord of hope still rings within you, sustained by the music floating from above. Day by day, week by week, you keep moving forward, putting your ex behind you as you truly start anew.
You make friends with another recent hire at work who lives just a subway stop away. A neighbor down the hall introduces herself in the elevator, and by the time you've reached the lobby, you've been invited to her weekly book club. The man with the light green hair is still hanging around your periphery, a few casually exchanged hellos encouraging you enough to ponder asking him to coffee someday-not today, but someday.
The chord swells. It's no longer just a few notes. It becomes a measure, a verse. A song.
And you realize it all started with the first strike of the piano above.
Though you have no idea who lives upstairs, you decide that they should know how much you appreciate them. You need them to know. So, you dig out some old stationery buried deep in your desk, and you write them a letter.
Unsure of what to say at first, you start by thanking them for their captivating performances, stating how lucky you are to have moved in so close to such a talented musician. Before you know it, you've told them how their music has given you hope when you needed it the most. Anonymity emboldens you, allowing you to spill your heart without fear of being too earnest, too vulnerable.
Once it's finished and you've signed it "your neighbor," you trek upstairs and slip it under their door before you can lose your nerve.
The next morning, there is a rap at your door.
You peek through the peephole and draw back in disbelief. It's the handsome minty-haired man from all your favorite neighborhood haunts. Why is he here?
"Can I help you?" you call out.
"Uh, yeah," he replies, his low, rich voice surprising you. "You wrote this letter, right?" He holds up a piece of paper, which you immediately identify as your stationery.
You open the door so quickly, he jumps in alarm.
"You," he breathes, as recognition sweeps over him. "I didn't know you lived here."
"You live upstairs?" you ask timidly. His dark eyes examine you from beneath his shaggy hair. Long fingers clutch your letter, and you can't help but stare at them, thinking about how they must look as they caress the keys of his piano.
"Yeah. Hi. I'm Yoongi," he introduces himself.
You give your name, then pause. "So... how did you know I wrote that?"
"Process of elimination. No one has moved in on my floor in over a year. And little old Ms. Choi above me has told me multiple times that she turns her hearing aids off at night, so she can enjoy some peace and quiet," he informs you, flashing a smile that is all gums and rather endearing. “She says she means that to be encouraging, that I can play as loud as I want.”
Not knowing how to respond, you remain silent.
"I just wanted to thank you," he declares, glancing at the letter. "The things you said about how I play... how it made you feel...." He turns his gaze on you, regarding you carefully before he finishes his thought. "I, uh, don't get a lot of opportunities to perform for any audiences. So to know there's someone listening, and actually enjoying my playing, is amazing." He laughs, a shy chuckle that pleases your ear as much as any sonata he's ever played. "It made me feel seen. Or I guess heard. Damn, I don't know if I'm making any sense. Do you know what I mean?" His expression is so earnest that you feel your heart seize up.
You nod. You absolutely understand.
That gummy smile returns.
"Anyway, I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated it." He rubs the back of his neck, looking down. "Maybe some time, I could play for you? In person, I mean. Not through the walls."
"Okay," you answer, not hesitating, making his head snap up. He grins, and you can't help but do the same. "But do you want to start with coffee first? I know a great little place."
ab·er·rant / adjective: departing from an accepted standard // diverging from the normal type.
⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq
⟶ Genre: Fluff | Smut | 21+ | Hybrid AU | One Shot
⟶ Warnings: strangers to lovers, explicit, yearning, flirtations, cute stuff, mentions of alcohol, minor violence, curse words are used, tae is a gentleman, fingering, blow job, choking kink, hair and tail pulling kink, nipple play, taehyung tummy mentioned a few times bc im a hooch for it, creaming of the pants, scents, playfulness, condomless sex, pull-out king, etc
⟶ WC: 23k+
⟶ Summary: Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.
⟶ Teaser: “How could I not?” Taehyung took you back into his arms and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck to hide his minor embarrassment, kissed at the small red imprints left behind. “That… that was so hot. And you taste so fuckin’ good, Y/n.”
⟶ Beta Reader: Thank you for helping me with editing; to @yeojaa, @out-of-jams, and @spicykoreantatertots. I deeply appreciate your hard work on correcting any of my grammar errors. This fic is very important to me and I cannot express how much it means to me that you guys helped me out.
⟶ Author’s note: 🍁 This fic is apart of The Hybrid Collab hosted by @jeonggukkiepabo! This is the longest one shot I have made, and the story kept going! I thoroughly enjoyed every moment I contributed towards writing this thick boy of a fic.
the god Apollo is dared to seduce the first mortal his eyes set upon without revealing his identity, so changing his appearance slightly and taking the name of Hoseok, he crosses paths with you. but as it happens, the only man you say you’d ever lie with is Apollo… also, you’re on a quest to steal his golden arrows.
♔ WARNINGS: religion themes, drinking, swearing, period-typical sexism, animal hunting&sacrifice, nudity, kissing, mentions of non-consensual sex and non-related incest, sex happens but no smut soz, murder
♔ BETA: @yoonoclock <3 thank you so much again !!
♔ AUTHOR’S NOTE: nvm the fic can we appreciate the banner bc i kinda served with it. no but this has been in my wips for almost as long as i’ve had this blog so i’m v excited for you guys to read it :D
Heroic Age
Sing to me, ‘o muse, the song of a priestess who was loved by a god willing to forgive her wicked crime.
It was a peaceful night on OLYMPUS, the home of the gods, where everyone had gone to sleep hours ago under a black sky dusted with stars.
Everyone save Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus, who refused to be parted with their jug of wine that refilled on its own so the party should never end. So much of it had they consumed, though, that even the god of the drink had come to neglect his cup, slumping over the table while his half-brothers slouched on their chairs.
But what they were yet to lose was their sense of humour, as they teased each other about their tragic love lives. Now, it was Apollo’s turn to be taken the piss out of.
genre: established relationship au, comfort, fluff, romance, oc has a cold and hobi takes care of them
warnings: well, oc is sick and dramatic
word count: 1.5k
a/n: ok so I’ve been very very sick these past few days and imagined the million ways Hobi would take care of his partner if they we’re sick, enjoy this fever induced drabble kekeke
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This fucking sucks.
You’re lying in bed in a fetal position, hair in a tousled bun that’s barely hanging on while you clutch the soft satin covers in your tiny feeble hands.
You’ve been here for two days, barely managing to get out of bed to shower and brush your teeth. They said the cold season was harsh this year, they were right. If you were a little skeptical before, well you’re not anymore.
You feel like the pressure in your sinuses is so intense your head might explode at any moment.
But that’s not the worst. No, oh no.
The worst is the fact that you cannot. Stop. Sniffling.
So you lay in bed, whining and moaning about life and the harsh reality you find yourself in, sniffling harshly as you let a few drops of salty water slip past your tear ducts.
You may be a tad bit dramatic. You’re allowed to, this fucking sucks.
You throw another tissue in the garbage bin and lament weakly as you do so, bringing the covers up to your ears in a barely logical attempt to hide from the world.
That’s when you hear the front door open, the familiar creaking sound bringing you instant comfort.
“Kitten?”
You can make out the sound of a bag hitting the hardwood floor and the shuffling of winter clothes.
You reply with a quite frankly pitiful moan, that’s really the best you can do considering your current state.
There’s footsteps coming closer to the bedroom and you curl onto yourself even more, peeking out of the warm covers to glance at your boyfriend.
“Oh baby,” He coos, dropping onto the bed and sliding under the covers. He brings you flush against his chest and drops a soft peck onto your head of messy hair.
“Hobi,” You whine feebly.
He squeezes your delicate frame. “You’re not feeling any better than this morning are you?”
You pleadingly look into his dark brown orbs.
“No-“ You break out into a tiny cough.
He shushes you. “My poor kitten,” Another kiss is laid upon your head. “Don’t try to talk ok?”
You nod, curling into his loving embrace. It’s warm and comforting, just like him.
“Did you eat today? Have you showered?”
You shake your head no, intent on following his advice. You don’t need another fit of cough, you’re not sure your poor head could handle it.
“Can you get up and shower for me baby? You’ll feel better. I’ll make soup for you, your favorite.”
You clutch the front of his shirt, you don’t want to get out of his strong embrace. It’s bearable like this, as long as you’re in the hold of the strongest arms in the whole world.
But reality kicks in and your nose starts dripping against Hoseok’s shirt, much to your horror.
You push against his chest to the best of your abilities which earns you a cock of his eyebrows.
“Tissues,”
Hoseok breaks out into a fit of laughter and gives you a tissue while you glare menacingly at him.
Well you try to, because damn if that laugh isn’t the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Even your favorite songs cannot begin to compare to the melodious yet unhinged sound.
You dump the used material in the bin and turn towards your lover again, making grabby hands as you look into his laugh-crinkled eyes.
Hoseok coos softly before enveloping you once again in his tender embrace and you settle there.
It feels like a warm summer day, when you’ve stayed in the sun for hours and your skin feels hot and pliant. You can almost smell the warm air and coconut sunscreen if you close your eyes and inhale deeply.
But you can’t inhale deeply because your nose is stuffed and you let out a plaintive whine.
“Kitten..” Hoseok presses his tender lips on your rosy cheek. “Can you get up?”
“Maybe,” You croak out.
He caresses your tousled hair with his long slender fingers. “I’ll help you.”
And that’s how you find yourself in the shower for at least half an hour if not more, sitting on a little built-in bench as warm water soothingly trickles down your body. Your nose even manages to clear for a few minutes, and god, you really took inhaling through both nostrils for granted.
Never again.
You leisurely get out and Hoseok enters the bathroom with a fond smile on his face as he hears the sound of water stop.
You make to grab a towel but a dainty hand stops you halfway there.
“Let me,”
Your boyfriend thoroughly but gently dries you off, and you can’t help but blush. Yes, he’s seen you naked more times than you can count, and yes he’s seen you worse off, even held your hair a few times as you threw up after nights out.
This feels different though.
You don’t mind one bit.
He dries the excess water from your hair with a towel and wraps a soft cotton robe around you, helping you with both sleeves and tying it around your waist.
Then, he delicately brushes your hair, making sure not to hurt you in the process, and proceeds to blow dry it carefully, tickling you here and there as he does so to distract you.
And it works, you try to wriggle out of his embrace but he continues his merciless attack, dropping kisses on each side of your neck as he tickles your weakest spots.
You know the perfect remedy to a cold now, it's Jung Hoseok.
“Thank you..” Your voice comes out as a hoarse squeak.
The smile you get is absolutely blinding, so much so that you fear losing balance and tumbling down on the floor considering your weakened state. But the strong arm around your waist steadies you and you take a few tentative steps all the way up to your bedroom, Hoseok not leaving your side, not even for a second.
You notice that the bed is clean and made when you throw the covers aside to slip in. And when you do, the fresh smell of clean sheets embraces you in a comforting wave of jasmine and lavender haze.
You cocoon yourself and inhale as much as you can, almost purring at the sensations enveloping your senses.
You try to protest when Hoseok leaves the room but are soon filled with love and tenderness when he comes back just as quickly with a hot bowl of soup that he drops on the nightstand closest to your still form.
He pats your now clean locks tenderly before sitting on the bed and bringing you up in a sitting position, your back against his firm chest. “Try to eat a little bit please,” He murmurs soothingly.
And how could you say no to that.
Also, since you’re out of your lethargic daze, you do feel quite a bit hungry.
So you slurp loudly on the homemade soup, basking in the feeling of warmth engulfing you as you do so. And Hoseok keeps caressing your hair in a soft manner, watching you eat without saying a word.
Even though you’re sick and very dramatic about it, you feel so fucking grateful. So grateful to have such a kind and caring soul with whom you share a life with. The most honest and beautiful man, who takes care of you when you’re sick or tired without complaining, not even once. Who changes the sheets and prepares you soup while you whine and moan about having to take a shower
Hoseok gently takes the bowl from your hand and places it nearby while you slump down against him, satiated and very sleepy.
Your next words are slurred and barely audible. “I don’t deserve you, thank you..”
Hoseoke chuckles fondly and shuffles the both of you so you lay down on the bed, his front still pressed against you in a perfect spoon-like embrace.
“I don’t deserve you, you little baby.”
You nuzzle his wrist and quietly purr. You haven’t felt this content since you woke up this morning.
“Nu-uh, I don’t.” You weakly protest.
You can almost feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes to the back of his head.
“Do you really wanna argue about this now?” He giggles quietly.
You ponder on it a bit, a pout slowly forming on your red slightly chapped lips. “No, I’m tired..”
You feel the soft press of lips against the back of your head and wiggle further into Hoseok’s warm embrace.
“Do you want to sleep?” He murmurs against you.
Your pout deepens.
“Do I really have to?”
Another fit of carillon-like chortles.
“You do baby.”
“Ok then.” You sigh dramatically. “But stay here, please?”
Hoseok nuzzles closer before whispering tenderly,
“Of course, big baby. I took tomorrow off too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You slap his arm. “Who ‘you calling a big baby?”
“You, big baby,” He teases before swinging his leg above you and hooking it around your own pair of legs.
You huff out in feigned annoyance but still lay a delicate kiss on his inner wrist. “Big baby wants to sleep now.”
genre: SMUT, pretty much PWP, supernatural creatures! au, wolf!seokjin
words: 4.1k (roughly)
desc.: hoseok, the asshole, wasn’t answering any of your calls or texts. as his best friend, it was your duty to go and check on him. little did you know, he had a VERY good reason for not answering.
warnings: dirty talk, heat/rut sex, unprotected sex, oral, breeding/impregnation kink (??), mating, dom!hoseok (??), knotting, yeah uhh lots of filth wow. also at the first, it might seem kind of like dub con, BUT the mc DOES consent when they actually start to get it on lmao.
notes: this isn’t my best work, but i hope the anon who requested this is satisfied!
“You’re not as innocent as you pretend to be, Y/N. I can tell what goes on in that head of yours.“ Hoseok’s low tone sent a shiver down your spine. You took a step back, breath hitching at the next words that fell from his lips.
“You make it so obvious, is that intentional? Do you not even attempt to hide your desire for me?”
warnings/tropes: pwp, fingering (f!receiving), one orgasm (wow!), secret lovers
a/n: hi i'm back (sort of)! more fics soon? idk how to write on tumblr anymore tbh lmfao
m.list | ao3
"We heard a disturbance."
You tighten your grip on your nightgown closer to your chest. You flash your bodyguard the most dazzling smile.
"Nonsense! I just… stubbed my foot on the edge of the bed. That's probably what you've heard." The lies come easily to you now. You don't have to think so hard.
"Are you sure?" The bodyguard asks as he tries to peer into the darkness of your chambers.
You squeeze him away from the doorframe. "Yep," you grunt, as you try to shove the six-foot tall man away from the door. "Nothing to see here. Just me. Alone in my room."
Suspicion crosses his eyebrows as he looks down and searches your face, but after a tense second, he sighs; defeated. You can't help but feel a pang of pity. This one is clearly new and just trying to do his job. You wonder when your father fired the other one, but you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when there's someone waiting for you, hidden in the shadows of your room.
"All right. I'll be standing outside if you need anything."
"Certainly," you say, trying not to sound too relieved. "Good night then."
As soon as the door closes, Jimin reappears on your bed, shirtless except for the handsome smirk that decorates his porcelain face. You wasted no time before diving back in to continue where you left off, and he wasted none either as he swallows your faint giggles in a heated kiss.
"That was close," your mystery companion whispered in between breaths, before diving back into your neck, leaving faint trails of his visits behind.
"Ooh," you moan. "Y-Yeah," is your faint reply to his keen observation.
Your paramour perks up just before reaching the tops of your breasts. He trails a slender finger between the mounds, a feline smirk dancing upon his lips. "My, how strange it was to hear my good girl lie."
You pout, resisting the trembling of your legs as he swipes a thumb over your clothed nipple. "Would you rather get kicked out?"
A soft laughter. "No," he whispers, followed by deft hands unfurling your nightgown to reveal your chest. "And I definitely don't want the princess of our college to have an increase in bodyguards. It's hard enough for me to climb into your room without being noticed."
You prop yourself up, suddenly curious. "You've never told me how it is you manage to get up here unnoticed."
His hand stops just above the waistband of your panties. Jimin's pointer finger draws circles on your skin; his telltale smirk reappearing, and this time accompanied by a quirk of his brow. "Do you want me to spend the rest of my night recounting my every dashing move or would you rather be satisfied?"
"Oh?" It's your turn with the smirk and quirk brow combo. "I thought the great Jimin is able to multitask?"
Jimin sighs, playfully rolling his eyes, before tugging your panties away, revealing the soft wetness underneath. His pointer and middle fingers draw circles around your folds, and as you begin to get lost in the sensation, he starts to speak: "Your father's guards are on rotation and there's always a minute or two gap where no one is watching the house."
"Hmmm…" you answer distractedly, falling back down on the pillows.
He continues despite your clearly ambivalent response.
"All I have to do is clear the gate and climb up onto the roof by the trellis from the gardens. From there it's a matter of lying low and making sure the guards don't see me as I walk on top of the roof." Jimin talks so methodically as though he didn't just sink his pointer finger into your heat, teasing the entrance with shallow thrusts.
Moans tumble out past your lips, which are quickly stuffed back into your throat as he presses his other hand over your mouth.
With half-lidded eyes, you watch his bemused expression. "Are you listening to me, baby?" he asks, a slight mock in his tone as he removes his hand.
You smile, eyes closing in ecstasy. "Uh-huh, guards, garden, roof… whatever." The last word comes out in a sigh, especially as Jimin joins his middle finger inside, this time moving deep and slow.
"Distracted baby," Jimin murmurs, shifting his stance so he sits on the bed. He pulls you in closer so that your ass lies on his lap.
You try to keep your moans in as he gradually moves faster, but it isn't long before the room is filled with your breathy "Jimin, Jimin, Jimin", accompanied by the sound of wetness as he begins to tug at the strings of your orgasm.
"Oh, baby," he mumbles, face straining slightly with effort, though his movements refuse to falter. "Gorgeous little thing."
"Haaa… please…" you cry as quietly as you could. "Need to cum…"
"Keep your eyes on me as you do."
You snap your eyes open as you feel the pull of your orgasm; that familiar tautness, like a coil about to break. "Gonna–"
Jimin adds a thumb to your pleasure, pushing tight circles on your clit.
"Jimin– I'm close… I'm– ah!" You struggle to keep your eyes open as your orgasm shakes your body; overwhelmed by the seemingly never-ending waves of bliss.
You may have caught a glimpse of his irritating victory smirk, but you can't really focus any longer. Did you call his name? You can't be sure.
When you come to, his plush lips are on yours, capturing whatever residual moans that try to escape before it alerts the bodyguard outside.
He kisses your forehead as you begin to relax, and Jimin shifts your bodies so you lie on top of his chest.
Jimin settles into your bed, eyes closed as he pulls you into his arms. "Good?"
"Very," you mumble, eyes drooping close. No. You can't sleep yet. You've been dying to ask. "Jimin?"
He opens an eye to look at you. "Hm?"
Nervousness overcomes you. You look away when you ask, "When are we going to… y'know…"
"Fuck?" he finishes your question after a few seconds of pause, with a smirk as you curl even deeper into his chest, avoiding his gaze altogether. "When you're ready," comes his soft voice and yet another kiss on the forehead.
"When will that be?" you mumble into his skin.
His reply comes swiftly. "When you can say the word 'fuck' without blushing."
"I can say it!" you grumble.
"Oh?" Jimin sits you up before he leans on his hand. He juts his chin towards you, as though giving you permission. "Okay then, Ms. Goody Two Shoes, let's hear it."
"F-" The word seems stuck in your throat. It's a simple word. Why do you find it so difficult to say? Jimin can say it just fine when he lets you please him. Oh god, he moans so nicely whenever you manage to take all of him into your mouth, and when he calls your name? Oh–
"There it is," Jimin sighs, breaking through your sinful thoughts. "You're not ready, darling." He scoops you back into his embrace. "I promise the wait will be worth it though. Now sleep. We have classes tomorrow, y'know."
Grumbling under your breath over the fact that you can't say that fu– darn word, you close your eyes. It turns out, sleep comes readily to you.
When you wake up the next morning, the only evidence that last night; and all the other nights that come before it, wasn't a dream lies in a note that rests where Jimin's warm body once laid. It's a normal occurrence; part of your deal, though you can't help but feel disappointed. It doesn't stop you from scouring the note, etching every swoop of cursive letter into your brain before you plop it into your nightstand drawer, where dozens of other identical looking notes lie.
When your maids come to help you get ready that morning, they're left wondering what's gotten you all giggly, but you keep the secret inside, not daring to breathe it to a single soul, just in case the illusion falls apart.
"One day I'll wake up next to you and I never have to leave in the dead at night. It's freezing. You're welcome.
P.S. You look beautiful when you sleep, even if you drool on my chest.
-J"
saturn notes: holy fuck. i haven't written anything since february? not apologising! life has been busy with me starting a new job, meeting my friends + partner over the summer, etc. etc. tbh, i was a bit burnt out on writing and just needed a break. this is the first time i finished something in forever, so i hope you enjoy the messy, messy drabble. i got one collab to do and i'll feel free when i finish that! thanks for your patience 💗
