summary: Loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, Min Yoongi, came into your life. You both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. But with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true.
pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut
word count: 13.6K it only gets longer from here
warnings/notes: this is based off the song matilda because i couldn’t help myself so beware of the hurt in this fic, first two chapters follow reader and yoongi throughout their lives, explicit language, unrequited love, a whole lot of pining, alcohol usage (mentions of throwing up), unsupportive/neglectful parents, mentions of loss of virginity (but nothing described/not between main pairing), yoongi and reader just want the best for each other, angst angst ANGST, this was originally posted on ao3 and i’m just now uploading it to tumblr, so bear with me i’m a mess, filter is called ethereal, but i can’t rmr the creator, so if it’s yours, pls contact me so i can give credit, i think that’s it but if i missed anything pls let me know (i wrote this a while ago and have no long term memory), ok ok hope you enjoy <3
“when you decided to meet up with taehyung for dinner to reconnect, you didn’t expect to see jungkook, your ex, on a date with his current girlfriend and not to mention, end up fake dating taehyung.”
warnings: cursing, reader feels very guilty in this one, alcohol consumption (nothing major/bad though)
playlist: happier - ed sheeran, just asking - aquilo, my tears ricochet - taylor swift, one last time please - dodie
a/n: uh, super nervous to post this because ive never written so much before, but i had a ton of fun and i hope you guys enjoy it! if you guys have any problems reading, liking or reblogging it, please let me know! im not sure if tumblr can handle such a word count, so id appreciate it if you guys would tell me if something doesnt work and ill figure it out! anyway, hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this!
aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart: an arranged marriage AU
You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.
Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Arranged marriage, e2l, smut, angst
Word count: 12k
Warnings: Sex, swearing
Ah shit.
You lift the arm curled around your waist off you and commando roll out of the luxurious california king you’ve woken up in.
The beautiful man you woke up with shifts and his face presses into the pillow.
You tear your admiring eyes away from him guiltily and grab his shirt from the floor, slipping it on, buttoning quickly.
You’re tiptoeing to the door when a grumpy deep voice makes you freeze.
‘That’s my favourite shirt,’ your husband says.
You reach for your patience and don’t find it.
Min Yoongi has exhausted all your reserves of goodwill towards him.
‘I was trying to be considerate and not wake you up,’ you say through gritted teeth.
He snorts.
Your blood pressure spikes.
You unbutton the shirt and seriously consider throwing it at his beautiful head.
You’re so annoyed it takes you longer than it should to register the way his gaze is roaming your naked body.
‘Min Yoongi,’ you say, injecting as much ice into your tone as you can, ‘you know we can only tolerate each other when we’re drunk.’
‘My morning wood’s not picky,’ he drawls, like it’s a compliment.
You roll your eyes. You know Yoongi’s always been attracted to you physically.
It’s your personality he can’t stand.
‘I’m sore,’ you tell him briskly, putting your dress back on.
You’re not lying. You think Yoongi sometimes takes his anger with you out on your cunt.
You love it, really, but he’s got a generous dick and impressive stamina and you really are sore.
Yoongi, unusually, looks concerned. ‘Was it too much?’
You ignore the flutter in your chest as he picks your panties off the floor and passes them to you, smoothing a soothing hand over your lower back.
You step away from his touch as though his hand is burning.
His sigh of irritation gives you life.
‘You’re deeply annoying,’ he tells you.
You smile, brilliantly, at him.
‘Oh Yoongi, are you this sweet to all the women you sleep with?’
‘Are you this annoying to all the men you fuck?’ he snaps.
Your smile falters for a second before you pull your mask firmly back in place.
You turn away from him and leave his bedroom without a goodbye.
***
Yoongi stares at the mark on his neck, just above the collar of his shirt, and thinks of you as he gets dressed for work.
Of course you’d had to mark him, even after he’d warned you not to.
Sometimes you’re so fucking exasperating he can’t stand you.
Now he has to meet his entire board, including his father and grandfather, looking like a horny teenager.
He has a flashback to your beautiful thighs wrapped around his hips, ankles crossed behind him, as you begged him not to stop.
Yoongi tries to shut that image out of his head before the erection he’s had all morning returns, but the image is burned into his retinas.
Shit, it’s in living technicolour with fucking surround sound.
Yoongi finishes getting dressed and stops by the kitchen for a coffee.
Mrs Gye, his housekeeper, smiles politely at him as she hands him his flask.
Yoongi thanks her, and is about to leave when he remembers.
‘Can you make some herbal tea for Mrs Min, please? She’s not feeling too well this morning.’
Mrs Gye nods, ‘of course, Mr Min.’
‘Don’t tell her I asked you to do it, just say you made some,’ Yoongi instructs.
Mrs Gye looks like she’s about to protest, but Yoongi’s already out the door into his waiting car.
***
You sigh with pleasure as you sip your herbal tea on your way into work.
Mrs Gye, your housekeeper, is truly a treasure.
She’d assured you that Yoongi hadn’t noticed anything different about his morning flask of coffee.
Yoongi’s a man of habit, so much so that he’s predictable in every way.
One of the cleaners had dropped his favourite flask and cracked it yesterday.
She’d been apologetic, but you’d been worried.
You know he’s got a big meeting with the board of his company today and you’d been determined not to let anything detract from his focus.
You’d driven to three places after work before you’d been able to find a replacement. You’d bought five, just to futureproof against any other flask mishaps.
Of course, all that driving around had made you late for dinner and Yoongi had been sure you’d been late on purpose.
You can’t blame him, it’s the sort of stunt you’d have pulled five years ago when you first got married.
You’ve changed but you’re pretty sure Yoongi sees you as still the same spoiled, immature heiress he’d been forced to marry, as the oldest son and heir to his family’s vast business empire.
Anyway, Yoongi’d been seething throughout dinner.
He’d spanked you until your ass was red raw.
You’d begged for more.
You stifle the delicious shiver that runs through you at the memory.
Your mood drops as you remember him accusing you of fucking other men.
Sure, you’d accused him of the same, but you’ve always been faithful to him.
You just don’t know if he’s been as faithful to you.
You’d heard the rumours about him and his breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly talented media director.
Park Gyuri was a model and actress before she went to grad school and earned an MBA. She waltzed into Yoongi’s family company, and she’s been doing a bang up job of everything since then.
She’s also the woman Yoongi was dating before he was forced to marry you.
You stopped seeking out the rumours because it became upsetting.
In your heart of hearts, you don’t think Yoongi’s any more in love with you than he was when you got married.
In truth, you wouldn’t blame him.
You’d spent years being the exact cold hearted bitch he’d eventually accused you of being.
You’re surprised it took him that long to finally snap.
***
Yoongi smiles at Gyuri as she walks into his office.
She’s beautifully put together as always, and she’s wearing green silk today, a shade that complements her colouring well.
‘Free for dinner tonight?’ she asks.
‘What’s the occasion?’ Yoongi asks.
‘Nothing, I just want to have dinner with my friend,’ Gyuri says, smiling affectionately at him.
There’s a pause before ‘friend’, so brief Yoongi knows anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but he did.
Yoongi would be lying if he said he’d never considered what his life would be like now if he hadn’t married you.
He’d probably be less annoyed on a day to day basis.
He’d probably still be a member of the country club you’d got him kicked out of.
He might be married to Gyuri instead.
He’s about to say yes when your face floats into his head. The look in your eyes when he’d accused you of being annoying, which is definitely true, and of fucking other men, which he doesn’t think is true.
Yoongi says, politely, ‘Rain check? I’d like to have dinner at home today.’
He’s been thinking about how you said you were sore, and he wants to check on you.
You’ll probably ignore him like you always do but he wants to see you’re all right for himself.
Also, he’s aware there’s an underlying frisson between him and Gyuri, and he doesn’t want to explore that just yet.
For once, Yoongi doesn’t linger in his office after everyone leaves. He picks up his bag and calls for his car and heads home.
When he reaches home, he walks into the kitchen. Mrs Gye is at the sink whilst something’s simmering on the stovetop. She startles when he sees him.
‘Ah, Mr Min, you’re back early.’
Yoongi murmurs something about working at home and hands her his flask. Then he stops, looking at another identical four flasks sitting to dry on the draining board by the sink.
Mrs Gye sees his line of vision.
‘Mrs Min bought them yesterday.’
Yoongi’s first thought is that you’re plotting something devious.
‘Where is Mrs Min?’ he asks.
‘She went up to her room.’
Yoongi doesn’t often go to your rooms, in fact he doesn’t think he’s visited you there this year at all.
He knocks on the door and there’s a muffled response.
‘I’m in bed, is it important, Mrs Gye?’
Yoongi says, ‘it’s me.’
He senses rather than hears your response. In moments you’re opening the door, pulling a robe tight around your waist.
Your hair is messy, your face devoid of makeup.
You look up at him self consciously.
Yoongi puts a hand on your arm. ‘Are you ok?’
You frown at him. ‘You didn’t kill me with your dick. I’m on my period.’
Yoongi bites back the laugh that threatens to erupt.
You ask, ‘would you like to come in?’
Yoongi follows you through your bedroom to your living area.
You pour both of you water and sit in your favourite chair, legs curling underneath you.
‘How are you doing, Yoongi?’ you ask, yawning.
‘Do you want to sleep with me?’ Yoongi asks, suddenly.
You choke on your water.
Yoongi waits until you’ve recovered enough to speak.
‘Right now? Jesus Yoongi I said I was on my period.’
Yoongi looks unperturbed. ‘I didn’t mean fuck, although if you’re down, I am. I meant sleep with me. Do you want to sleep in the same room?’
You stare at him.
‘Are we in danger?’
Yoongi stares at you.‘What? No, don’t be ridiculous.’
‘You can tell me, Yoongi, my family have security contacts everywhere.’
Yoongi massages his forehead. ‘No. Forget it. Just forget it.’
You get up hurriedly as he looks like he’s about to ditch you. ‘Yoongi!’
He stops.
‘You want to spend more time together?’ You ask, doubtful as to what he really meant.
‘We’re married,’ Yoongi points out, patient. ‘We’ll probably have kids eventually. Shouldn’t we try to get to know each other?’
You have a flashback, vivid, of Yoongi calling you a spoiled, stuck up bitch.
‘Yes. Let’s sleep together.’
Yoongi looks at you for a moment.
He holds out his hand.
With a sense of trepidation, you take it.
***
‘It’s weird not to be fucking,’ you say to Yoongi, pulling the covers up to your neck, looking around his room curiously.
‘It’s also 9pm. Why are you already in bed?’
You hop out and trip over a pair of Yoongi’s slippers, sprawling on the floor.
Yoongi looks at you, shirt half unbuttoned.
‘I’m tired,’ you say, crawling back into bed.
You pull the covers over your head.
A moment later you feel him sitting on the bed.
He pats over where your head is.
‘Come have dinner with me.’
‘Is that an euphemism for a blow job?’ you ask from under the covers.
You sit up suddenly and realise Yoongi’s sitting on the bed in his briefs.
You can feel heat rush to your face.
It’s not like you haven’t seen your husband naked before, hell, it’s not even been 24 hours since you last fucked.
But this is different.
This is intimacy when you’re more comfortable with fucking.
Yoongi’s watching the way your eyes rove over his thighs.
‘See something you like?’ he asks, coolly.
You scoff. ‘Of course I like the way you look, Min Yoongi.’
You get up. ‘Let’s eat.’
****
Yoongi eyes you over the soup you’re stirring.
‘Why did you buy so many flasks?’ he asks.
Your eyes snap to his. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I saw them.’
You shrug. ‘You like them. I want you to have replacements if one breaks.’
‘That’s thoughtful.’
‘Just being a dutiful wife,’ you chirrup cheerfully.
Yoongi stares at you like you’ve grown another head. ‘You are definitely not that.’
You nod in agreement. ‘You’re right.’
‘Are you feeling ok? You’ve barely touched your soup and you already tried to get into bed.’
‘I’m on my period,’ you tell him, again. You get up. ‘I’m going to go get some of my things and bring them to your room.’
‘It’s our room,’ Yoongi corrects, gently.
‘Our room,’ you repeat.
By the time you’ve finished gathering your things, Yoongi’s just got to his door.
‘After you,’ he says, strangely formal.
You shoot him a look and head to his huge dressing room.
‘You can use that side,’ he says, pointing.
The entire wall he’s pointing at is made up of bare clothes rails at varying heights.
You pull open a drawer, intending to deposit your toiletries and underwear in it, and stop when you see the packages inside it.
‘What’s this?’ you ask.
Yoongi walks over from his side of the dressing room.
Together you look at the boxes from a well-known underwear brand. It’s the same brand you tend to wear.
You look up at Yoongi, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears are red.
Your impatient, unsentimental husband actually looks… embarrassed.
You wait him out.
Finally, he mutters, ‘sometimes if I see something I like, I buy it for you.’
You can’t believe your ears.
‘Did you buy this for — someone else?’ you ask quietly.
Another thought occurs to you.
‘Did you buy this for yourself?’ you ask.
Yoongi groans, irritably.
‘I bought all this shit for you. My wife.’
He opens the top box and rifles through what looks like a beautiful red silk and lace teddy. You glimpse the tags. It’s your size.
‘I got this after that night when you wore that red dress to meet the Hans because you look fucking breathtaking in red.’
‘How do you know my size?’ you ask weakly, stalling to give your brain time to catch up.
‘Your size is the only fucking thing I do know about you,’ Yoongi says, still irritable. ‘How many times have I taken your lingerie off?’
You stare each other into an uneasy stalemate.
‘You really didn’t buy this for anyone else?’ you ask.
‘Believe me or don’t believe me,’ Yoongi says, at the end of his tether.
He stalks out of his dressing room, and you blink blindly at the stack of boxes in the drawer.
By the time you re-enter Yoongi’s bedroom, the lights are off and he’s a lump under the covers.
You climb in the other side and after a moment, scoot over to be closer to him.
He’s got his back to you, rigid, cold.
You put your hand on his shoulder to warn him, then kiss the back of his neck.
‘Thank you,’ you tell him.
You’re half- asleep by the time he turns onto his back. His hand brushes yours under the covers, not holding it but touching you.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says.
You curl your pinky finger around his, like a promise, and go to sleep.
***
When you wake up the next morning, Yoongi’s already gone.
His side of the bed is rumpled, and when you run your hand over the sheet it’s cold.
You need to think.
Even better, you need a third party to do your thinking for you.
You send your best friend Nara a text, then notice the time.
Shit. You need to get to work.
You hop out of bed, trip over Yoongi’s slippers again and scurry to your own room to get dressed.
Your morning is pretty dull, a bunch of meetings with clients, a team brief before your new product launch tonight.
Nara meets you for lunch.
Kim Nara has been your closest friend since junior tennis club. She has an impressively strong backhand, a competitive streak a mile wide and is the most loyal person you’ve ever met.
She pours you some wine from the bottle she started whilst waiting for you, then sits back in her seat.
‘What was so urgent you had to meet today?’ she asks.
Her eyes narrow. ‘Did Min Yoongi knock you up?’
‘What? No. I’m on my period right now,’ you protest.
You take a gulp of wine to fortify yourself.
‘But it does involve him.’
Nara takes a matching big sip. ‘Hit me.’
‘I think I should try to get him to forgive me.’
‘For what?’ Nara asks. There’s a mischievous light in her eyes now.
‘For buying Kim Seokjin instead of him at that bullshit charity auction? For sending that chain email to all his employees with his STI testing results? For getting him blacklisted from every golf course in the country?’
You cringe.
You’d been young when you married Yoongi, spoiled and impulsive and naive and terribly, terribly selfish.
Nara sucks in a breath to power what you know is going to be a litany of crimes. You’d write it all down if it wouldn’t kill you to read what an asshole you were to him.
You have no idea why he hasn’t divorced you.
You guess this is why he tries to break you every time you have sex.
Nara’s talking about the time you ran off to Switzerland for three months, but you tune her out.
You need to make all this up to Yoongi, a man who buys you gifts even when you’re barely talking, and who wants to be closer to you despite everything you’ve done to him.
You figure ten is a nice round number.
You’re going to do it.
You’re going to find the ten worst things you’ve done to Min Yoongi and make up for every single one of them.
***
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Min, Mr Kim says he can’t see you until his bodyguard gets here.’
You gape at the expressionless secretary who’s been dispatched to give you the news. He nods apologetically, then withdraws.
The nerve of Kim Seokjin.
Kim Seokjin is Yoongi’s best friend, and instrumental in your plan to make things right with Yoongi.
It looks like he’s going to make you work for it every step of the way. You’ve been waiting outside his office for ten minutes already, and there’s no end in sight.
The first attack you’d launched on Min Yoongi after you got married was at a charity fundraiser where there had been, to your devious delight, an auction.
Not just any auction. Seokjin and Yoongi had been part of it, and you’d very intentionally bid on Seokjin despite wearing the Min heirloom pendant around your neck.
You’d bid a ridiculous amount and won him, a record that was shattered not long after by the ‘purchase’ of a man with a rakish glint in his eye, Jungkook, you think his name was.
Even worse, you’d paid a horny elderly society lady, Mrs Kang, known for her constant innuendoes and wandering hands, to purchase your then new husband.
He’s never told you what happened on their date.
On your date with Seokjin you’d dressed so provocatively you were a quick move away from being arrested for public indecency.
To his credit, you hadn’t once caught Seokjin’s eyes wandering below your neck.
He’d spent the whole date scolding you on Yoongi’s behalf.
You’ve had other shenanigans with Seokjin, but the auction is the most scandalous one by far. You’re not surprised he doesn’t want to see you.
You glance at your watch and realise you’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes.
You get up to leave and you hear your name called in a deep voice that’s definitely not Seokjin’s.
It’s a man, around six feet tall, who looks the size of a refrigerator. He looks like he could break you in half and not break a sweat.
You’re escorted into Seokjin’s office.
‘Y/N,’ Seokjin says, formally, from behind his desk. ‘Have a seat.’
You aren’t sure if Seokjin realises that you practically grew up in boardrooms much more intimidating than this.
You sit behind his desk obediently.
‘I wanted to talk to you about Yoongi,’ you say, rushed, because you don’t know how much time you have.
Seokjin looks at you evenly. ‘I have no interest in discussing my best friend with you.’
‘We don’t have to discuss him. I just want to make up for all of the things I’ve done to him over the years.’
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. You’ve always found him intimidating, if you’re honest.
‘Anyway, can you convince him to put himself up for auction at the Rose Ball next month?’
‘Why?’ Seokjin snaps. ‘So you can humiliate him again?’
Your hackles rise at his tone, but you remind yourself of your end goal. You’re not sure you can make Yoongi cuddly but you think you might be able to make him like you.
‘I won’t humiliate him,’ you say, humbly.
Seokjin glares at you. ‘I need more assurance than your word, funnily enough.’
You like how loyal Seokjin is to Yoongi, but he’s sure being an ass right now.
‘I’ll pay you.’
Seokjin frowns. ‘Do I look like I need the money?’
‘I’ll cook dinner for Yoongi and you,’ you offer.
He snorts.
‘Can you even cook?’
‘Jesus what do you want Seokjin?’
You stand, and immediately his bodyguard takes a protective step forward.
You throw your hands up in exasperation.
‘Yoongi really wants to go to watch the Portland Trail Blazers when they’re in town next month. It’s right before the Rose Ball. Take him and I’ll get him to auction himself off at the Rose Ball.’
You put out a hand, forgetting about the bodyguard for a moment.
You pull it back quickly when he steps in front of Seokjin.
‘Deal,’ you call happily over the bodyguard’s shoulder.
‘Wait.’
Seokjin steps out from behind the human wall and holds out his hand.
You shake it.
‘Don’t fuck me or Yoongi over,’ Seokjin warns.
‘I won’t,’ you promise.
***
Yoongi’s already home when you get back after work.
He’s dressed in basketball shorts, a sweatband around his forehead.
‘You look hot,’ you say, absently, as you search through your drawer in his dressing room for a loose tee.
‘Here,’ Yoongi says. He tosses you a plain tee, one of his own.
You put it to your face and inhale.
‘It’s fresh,’ Yoongi says, dryly.
‘It smells like you,’ you say. ‘I like it.’
You step out of your work clothes and pull it over your head.
‘I’m going to bed.’
You pause before you leave the dressing room. ‘Hey, Yoongi. I got tickets to the Portland trail blazers game next month. Wanna go together?’
Yoongi gapes at you.
‘You didn’t seriously just ask me out to a basketball game with my favourite team whilst wearing my t-shirt and nothing else.’
You hadn’t been thinking about anything naughty but you snap to attention at his words.
‘Are you still on your period?’ Yoongi asks.
He’s already rounding the central island in the middle of his dressing room, where he keeps his watches and jewellery.
He’s heading straight for you.
You squeak and retreat to the bed.
He’s a second behind you, landing right on you before you can even yank up the covers.
‘Let’s make out,’ he says, voice husky.
‘Yeah,’ you agree.
His lips are almost on yours when you stop him.
‘Do you still want to make out even if we don’t—‘ you trail off, and Yoongi looks at you oddly.
‘Fuck?’ he supplies, helpfully.
You nod.
‘Are you serious? What do you think I am? Some sort of brute?’
‘We usually just skip to the fucking,’ you point out.
Yoongi stares at you for so long you think he’s had a stroke.
Then he leans over and kisses your forehead.
Your eyes closed automatically when his lips touched you, so it takes you a moment to realise he’s pulling away.
‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he says.
He’s out the door before you get a chance to say goodbye.
***
You’re trying to pick something to wear to the game with Yoongi. You’re not really a fan of basketball, not like he is. Your only knowledge of basketball consists of what you’ve gleaned from pictures of celebrities courtside and what you’ve seen in movies.
Once you’re dressed, you run downstairs to where Yoongi’s waiting.
‘They’re not courtside,’ you say, apologetic, as Yoongi drives.
‘You’ve said that a few times,’ Yoongi says mildly, signalling to turn.
‘I just don’t want you to be disappointed,’ you say.
‘I won’t be,’ Yoongi says.
‘I don’t know anything about basketball,’ you tell him.
Yoongi looks at you with such disappointment it feels like you need to seek his forgiveness for yet another thing.
‘I’m calling the best divorce lawyer in town right after this,’ Yoongi says. ‘But first, let’s watch the game.’
‘What? You’re divorcing me over a —- sport?’
‘Not helping the cause,’ Yoongi retorts.
You want to pout but you’re pretty sure he’ll just get annoyed with you.
Yoongi drives into a multi-storey car park and backs into a space so sexily you get a little wet just watching him.
He even does that thing where he rests his arm against your seat, as though it’s a habit he can’t break even though his car has a rear camera.
You want to hold hands with him as you walk to the arena, but you rarely ever touch when you’re not fucking.
Yoongi says, without looking at you, ‘what is it now?’
‘This is kind of like a date,’ you observe.
Yoongi sighs.
He’s never really indulged your fondness for romantic gestures, you guess he’s always seen them as childish.
‘It’s a date,’ he confirms. He leads you to your seats as though he knows the arena well.
You look around curiously. The seats aren’t courtside, but you’re only a couple of rows back, and the view seems fine to you.
‘Is this ok?’ you ask.
‘They’re perfect seats. Stop asking me or I’ll kiss you and ruin your lip gloss.’
‘This is kiss proof, actually,’ you say, seriously.
Yoongi turns fully to look at you. ‘Is that an invitation for me to test it out?’
‘Let’s just see how the date goes,’ you say, leaning back in your seat.
You can feel his eyes on you. He scoffs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed.
The game is an exciting one, but you spend it mainly watching Yoongi. He’s pretty even-tempered most of the time, but watching basketball really seems to get his blood going.
He cheers so loudly and enthusiastically you’re almost deafened. Once the game gets going he barely even seems to notice you.
You’re glad he’s enjoying himself.
At half time, you get him to take a selfie with you to send to Seokjin as proof.
You’ve just sent it when he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, quickly.
You turn to him, but he’s already turned away.
You think about the feel of his lips on your cheek for the rest of the game, and somehow the second half flies by.
Yoongi’s so hyped by the time the game ends that you keep smiling at how endearing he is.
‘I feel like you need to talk about this to someone who knows about basketball,’ you remark as you walk back to your car.
He grins at you. ‘I might stop by Seokjin’s place.’
‘Ah sure,’ you say, a little crestfallen that he doesn’t want to go home with you.
You fiddle with your phone, realising you don’t even know where Seokjin lives. ‘Is home on your way?’
‘I’ll drop you off,’ he says.
You’re quiet on the drive home. Yoongi pulls into your driveway and shuts the engine off.
‘Hey,’ he says.
You turn to him.
‘Thanks for getting us tickets. And thanks for coming with me.’
You smile. ‘It was Seokjin’s idea,’ you demur. ‘See you later, Yoongi.’
You get out of the car and are walking to the front entrance of your home when you hear the car door close behind you.
There’s footsteps, and by the time you turn, Yoongi’s standing in front of you, barely two feet away.
‘Hey,’ he says again. ‘Can I get a kiss goodnight?’
You reach into your brain for a snappy remark but come up with nothing.
All you can do is look up at him as he leans over you and kisses you. His tongue flicks at the seam of your lips, once, and then he’s pulling away.
He smooths your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear.
The action makes your heart flutter helplessly in your chest. He rarely ever touches you like this.
Yoongi rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently.
‘I’ll see you later. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get in.’
He waits, engine idling, until you’re safely indoors before he drives off.
***
You’re nervous. It’s the night of the Rose Ball, and the charity auction where you’re going to orchestrate the first stage of making up with Yoongi.
You’ve picked a red dress because of what he said about you looking pretty in red.
Yoongi knocks on your bedroom door, because you’d wanted to get ready alone.
You open the door and take in the vision of your husband in a white dinner jacket, hair pushed back from his forehead and styled beautifully.
There are silver earrings glinting in his ears, and his hair is currently silver to match.
‘You look very handsome,’ you tell him, honest.
He holds out his arm. ‘I think you’re wearing red on purpose to fuck with me, aren’t you? Quick, say something annoying so the universe can tilt back to its normal axis.’
Gamely, you pout at him and whine, ‘why didn’t you get me any new jewellery to wear, Yoongi?’
‘I’ve got some pearls I can put around your neck,’ Yoongi suggests.
‘I’d rather you put them down my throat,’ you say, suggestively.
‘There’s my spoiled little horny heiress,’ Yoongi says, approvingly.
You roll your eyes. ‘I’m not spoiled.’
‘Try saying that in a less whiny tone,’ Yoongi tells you unsympathetically.
‘I’m not whiny.’
‘I hope you saved up some money to buy Kim Seokjin again tonight,’ Yoongi says.
You frown.
‘I’m gonna buy you, not Seokjin.’
He snorts. ‘I hope you’re not expecting me to buy you.’
You pause. This is an angle you hadn’t even considered.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.
At the ball, you read through the list of names up for auction. To your annoyance, Seokjin, Yoongi and you are all one after another, clustered together.
You think it’s an attempt to capitalise on the scandal of the previous time Seokjin and Yoongi were up for auction.
You’re nervous all throughout dinner, and by the time the auction starts you’re vibrating with nerves.
Seokjin stands when his name is announced, nodding at the emcee. Across the table from you, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes burning into your head.
The bidding starts at a cool 5 million won, and rapidly escalates.
Seokjin, devastatingly handsome in a beautiful tux that emphasizes the broadness of his chest and shoulders, doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be surprised.
You look at Yoongi and keep your hands perfectly still in your lap.
‘50 million won, do I hear 55?’
It’s a relief when the bidding closes at 75 million won. You don’t even see who the highest bidder is, concentrating on your husband sitting across from you.
When Yoongi’s name is announced, he stands and nods.
You think to yourself again how beautiful your husband looks.
You keep up with the bids easily. To your annoyance, the bidding is fast and furious, and it’s only moments before you’re holding at 90 million won.
‘Do I hear 95?’
‘100 million won.’
You turn, aghast, and look into the diabolical and devious eyes of Kim Seokjin.
Why the hell is Kim Seokjin driving up the bidding war on your husband?
Yoongi just looks amused when you stare at him, accusing.
‘110 million,’ you snap.
You try to stare the evil bastard down between bids.
By the time you get to 150 million won, you’re glaring daggers at Seokjin and Yoongi.
‘Sold to Mrs Min.’
There’s barely time to breathe a sigh of relief before you realise Yoongi and Seokjin are now patting each other on the back.
To your chagrin, they leave the room as your name is announced.
As the bids escalate on you, you pull your phone out and send Yoongi a rapid fire text.
Y/N: Buy me or I won’t fuck you tonight.
Yoongi, the bastard, makes you wait on read.
You’re dialling his number when you realise two things.
One, that the bidding’s somehow reached a hundred million won.
And two, that the main bidder is a very beautiful man whom you’ve never met.
‘Going once….’
You squirm in your seat as Yoongi and Seokjin walk back into the room.
If there’s any urgency in Yoongi at all that his wife is about to be sold to a random stranger, his face doesn’t show it.
You suppose this is exactly how he felt when you let Mrs Kang buy him.
‘Going twice to Mr Park Jimin.’
Yoongi lifts a brow, and his eyes snap to the beautiful man.
He nods to the auctioneer, and bidding resumes.
Park Jimin seems pretty determined, but he’s no match for your husband.
Yoongi buys you for a shade under two hundred million won.
***
You’re trying to unfasten your necklace whilst Yoongi gets changed after the ball.
‘Two hundred million won,’ you say, teasingly. ‘Guess I’ll need to put out.’
Yoongi grunts, and a moment later he says, ‘lift your hair.’
You pull your hair away from the back of your neck and he unfastens your necklace for you.
‘You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to,’ he says.
Later, in bed, you’re lying awake next to Yoongi, thinking about the night.
‘Yoongi,’ you whisper.
He sounds like he’s stifling a groan. ‘What?’
‘Thanks for buying me.’
It’s so dark you can’t see any of his features.
Eventually, he says, ‘there was never a possibility that I wouldn’t.’
‘What?’ you ask, surprised. ‘Say that again.’
‘Good night, Y/N.’
***
You think that one of the things that irritated Yoongi the most about you when you first got married was your total lack of interest in getting to know his friends.
And so part two of making up with Yoongi involves Kim Namjoon.
He’s an interesting man, from what you know of him.
Like Yoongi and Seokjin, he comes from a privileged background. Unlike Yoongi and Seokjin, though, he’s not in the family business. He runs an art gallery in the city with his partner, Nayeon.
You’re apprehensive about approaching Namjoon at the gallery but you can’t think of any other way to meet him.
Seokjin’s less icy to you since you took Yoongi to watch basketball and since the successful completion of step 1, but there’s no way he’d voluntarily help you.
You push open the glass door and decide to just walk around.
Unlike Seokjin, Namjoon doesn’t make you wait.
You’re barely in the cool comfort of the gallery before he’s standing next to you.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asks, politely.
You search his expression for hints of sarcasm, but he seems perfectly sincere.
To be fair, you’ve never tried to provoke him like you did Seokjin.
You decide to be as direct as he is.
‘I was hoping to invite you and Nayeon for dinner at ours,’ you say.
He doesn’t answer straight away.
‘I haven’t really tried to get to know Yoongi’s friends, since we’ve been married,’ you say, pointing out the obvious. ‘I’m trying to remedy that.’
Namjoon gives you a long look.
You wonder what Yoongi’s been saying about you to his friends.
Judging by how wary all his friends are around you, you don’t think he’s been singing your praises.
You’re just about to speak again, when Namjoon says, ‘Yoongi often comes to ours on a Sunday night for dinner. I’m sure Nayeon would be really pleased if you could make it with him this Sunday.’
You smile, grateful. ‘I’d love that.’
Namjoon gives you another long look, then a dimple flashes in his cheek.
It transforms his face, which up until now had been rather stern and intimidating.
‘I’ll see you Sunday.’
***
Yoongi’s watching you polish off the last of the bread at dinner, bemused.
You figure now’s as good a time as any to tell him about how you’ve invited yourself to dinner on Sunday.
He takes it in his stride.
‘I’ll try not to embarrass you,’ you say, jokingly.
‘Like when you sent my sexual health test results to my entire company?’ asks Yoongi.
You look down at your plate.
Shit, another thing you need to atone for.
‘Sorry about that,’ you tell him, contrite.
‘It’s fine,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. ‘I became a meme for a few months, I can cope with that.’
You put your hand on his arm. ‘I really am sorry. Want a blow job?’
Yoongi rolls his eyes again. ‘Are we so emotionally stunted we can only communicate through sex?’
His tone is cutting.
You’ve been so soft for him lately that there’s a pang of hurt in your chest.
‘You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re fucking me,’ you say, coldly.
‘Likewise, princess,’ Yoongi snaps.
You get up from the table and go to watch TV alone in your rooms.
By the time you go in to Yoongi’s bedroom, it’s dark.
You slide in next to him and turn away, back facing him.
You hear a sigh, then his hand pats the sheets, looking for yours.
You tuck your hands between your legs.
Yoongi’s hand travels down your arm, seeking your hand.
His thumb brushes over your clit, and you let out a surprised ‘oh’.
Yoongi shifts over, spooning you, chest pressing against your back.
‘Can I touch you, princess?’ he asks, voice low. ‘I’ve been thinking about how you pouted at dinner and I’m so fucking hard.’
‘I don’t want to cum for you,’ you tell him, petulant.
Yoongi nibbles at your neck, sharp teeth sending shocks of pain and pleasure through you.
‘I’ll make you cum anyway, princess. Get you grinding against my hand and crying my name. You always sound so pretty for me.’
‘Yoongi,’ you murmur, but your legs are already spreading to make room for him.
‘That’s my girl,’ he says, fingers slipping through your slick heat like he hadn’t expected anything less. ‘Let me fuck the spoilt brat out of you until only my baby’s left, hmm?’
Yoongi talks dirty to you until you’re creaming around his fingers, then his cock.
***
Yoongi looks up from his phone and gives you a quelling look.
‘Stop fidgeting.’
You hug the bottle of wine you’re bringing to Nayeon and Namjoon’s place to your chest.
‘Who else is going to be there?’ you ask.
‘Usually it’s Seokjin and me. Sometimes Gyuri comes.’
You think about that and wish, childishly, that you’d chosen a nicer outfit.
You realise Yoongi’s watching your face.
‘I appreciate you wanting to meet my friends,’ he says, carefully.
‘Oh it’s about time I made an effort, don’t you think?’
Yoongi gives you a long look and rings the doorbell.
You’re greeted by a relaxed-looking Nayeon.
You don’t know her well, but she’s always struck you as nice. You feel an odd pang as you see the affectionate way Yoongi greets her.
Here’s a whole other aspect of his life you’ve never been involved in.
You volunteer to help Namjoon cook the rice. To your bemusement, he’s frighteningly accident-prone.
Within five minutes, you’ve saved him from putting his hand on a hot pan twice. You shudder when you see him pick up a knife to chop vegetables.
Nayeon nudges you. ‘Don’t worry. He’s not too bad. Someone always keeps an eye on him.’
‘Like a toddler,’ you mutter, then you remember where you are.
Nayeon just laughs. ‘I think of it as he’s still getting used to his size.’
You laugh. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t get any bigger then.’
You look up as Seokjin enters the kitchen with Yoongi.
Your eyes meet Seokjin’s. He nods coolly at you.
You smile back.
To your surprise, Yoongi claps a hand on Seokjin’s back.
‘Yah, Jin, greet my wife properly.’
Seokjin pulls Nayeon into a hug, then stops just in front of you.
You put out a hand for him to shake, and instead, he pulls you into a hug too.
You look up at him, a little wary.
‘Don’t you need your bodyguard?’ you ask, unable to resist.
Seokjin narrows his eyes at you. ‘I’m watching you, brat,’ he replies, so softly only you can hear.
‘And Yoongi’s watching you,’ you return, snarky.
Seokjin’s eyes darken. ‘Clearly Yoongi’s too soft on you, given your attitude.’
‘Break it up,’ Yoongi’s voice says from behind Seokjin.
You slide around Seokjin and stand next to Yoongi. When Yoongi turns to talk to Nayeon, you flip Seokjin the bird.
He glares daggers at you but has to quickly rearrange his expression when Yoongi and Nayeon ask him a question.
You’re so busy fielding all the interactions that it’s a relief to sit down to dinner.
Ah shit.
There are prawns in the broth, the one thing in the world you’re allergic to.
It’s your own fault. Early on in your marriage, for reasons known only to you, you’d decided to let Yoongi think you were a snob about seafood rather than just telling him you were allergic. Cue a very uncomfortable dinner when you’d refused to eat anything one of his chef friends had cooked.
Seokjin, next to you, looks at your untouched bowl pointedly. ‘Don’t you like it?’ he asks, voice so velvety it’s not immediately obvious he’s jeering at you.
You grit your teeth and pray the epi-pen in your bag is in date.
It’ll probably be fine, unless you have a whole prawn….
As if on cue, Yoongi hands you a prawn he’s just peeled.
You’d always thought Yoongi would be the death of you, but you’d thought the mechanism would be from hate fucking you into oblivion, or irritating you into apoplexy.
Not a fucking prawn that he’s peeled for you because he’s decided to be a solicitous husband for once in his life.
You can feel a few eyes on you.
‘Oh that looks delicious,’ you chirrup brightly. You accept the prawn, swallow it quickly, wait a beat, then excuse yourself.
You grab your bag on the way to the bathroom, fumbling for your epi-pen.
You jab it into your thigh just as the familiar tingling starts in your throat.
The door opens, and you’re faced with Yoongi, staring at you.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he hisses.
He grabs the epi-pen you’ve just dropped on the floor.
‘Are you shooting up in my friends’ house?’ he snaps.
You shake your head, voice raspy.
‘I’m allergic to prawns.’
Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe his ears.
‘What?’
You want to repeat yourself but your voice is getting hoarser.
Yoongi seems to click into action then. ‘Fuck. Do you need the hospital?’
You nod.
Moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, Yoongi grabs your arm and hustles you out of the bathroom.
He scolds you all the way to the hospital.
‘You’re an idiot, you know that? Why would you eat something you know you’re this allergic to?’
Two blocks away.
‘Why couldn’t you just tell me? Of all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled—‘
At the entrance of the emergency room.
‘If you die from this I’m going to follow you into the afterlife and kill you again.’
You’d snap back if he didn’t sound more worried than angry.
Yoongi sits beside your bed, filling in a form on a tablet with your details. You can see him typing in your name.
You grab his arm. ‘Not my name,’ you rasp.
Yoongi frowns at you. You fumble in your bag and pass him your driver’s license.
He looks at it for a long moment.
‘You changed your name? You said —-‘
He cuts himself off with visible effort. You can see a vein throbbing in his forehead.
He fills in the rest of the form, swearing softly under his breath.
You close your eyes and lose yourself to nightmares about prawns.
When you wake up, Yoongi’s sitting by your bed.
You say his name.
He runs a hand over his face. ‘How are you feeling, princess?’
‘I’m fine. Can we go home?’
‘They want to keep you in a little longer.’
You sigh.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to prawns?’ Yoongi asks.
He sighs. ‘That time, with Mingyu, when he made us all that food. I thought you were being such a bitch.’
‘I am a bitch,’ you say. ‘I hated you back then. I hated our marriage and I hated that it felt like I didn’t have any choice in anything.’
‘And so you decide to die because I fucking peeled you a prawn?’
‘Why did you do that? You always say if you can’t peel a prawn you don’t deserve to eat it.’
‘Jesus fucking christ. I just wanted to.’
‘What a time to choose to be the doting husband,’ you say, regretfully.
Yoongi snorts with laughter. ‘Are you allergic to anything else I need to know about?’
‘Assholes,’ you mutter. ‘That’s why Seokjin and I don’t get along.’
Yoongi laughs again. ‘You’re such a rude brat. He won’t stop calling me. He wants to apologise for putting pressure on you to have the broth.’
‘Nayeon and Namjoon want to know if you’re ok, too.’
‘Tell them I’m fine.’
‘Here,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’ll add you to the group chat and you can tell them yourself.’
You send off a few texts and put your phone down.
‘I need to call my lawyer,’ Yoongi says, running a hand through his hair.
‘You’re divorcing me over a prawn allergy?’
‘No,’ says Yoongi, patient. ‘Now that I know your real name, I need to get it changed in my will and also on all the properties I’ve invested in for you.’
‘Ooh, I’m in your will?’ you ask, intrigued. ‘What do I get?’
‘None of your business,’ Yoongi says.
You wave a hand threateningly. ‘I could kill you right now and find out.’
Yoongi fends you off easily. ‘You should be resting.’
‘We could be arguing about this at home,’ you point out.
By the time you’re discharged from the hospital, it’s the early hours of the morning.
When you get home, you’re greeted by Mrs Gye.
‘I took care of it,’ she tells Yoongi.
Yoongi nods and thanks her.
‘Took care of what?’
‘Mr Min rang earlier and told us to get rid of all the prawns in the kitchen and pantry,’ Mrs Gye says. She’s apologetic. ‘We didn’t know you were allergic, Mrs Min.’
You glance at Yoongi, who’s slipping off his shoes.
‘You didn’t have to —‘
He cuts you off. ‘It’s a risk I’d prefer not to take again.’
He starts up the stairs, heading for his bedroom. ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep.’
You hurry after him, because he’s not waiting for you.
***
You’re coming out of your meeting with the manager of the third country club you got Yoongi blacklisted from when you spot a familiar face.
A familiar, beautiful but unwanted face.
‘Seokjin,’ you say, nodding politely.
He leans down, and automatically you present your cheek to him for a kiss.
‘How are you doing?’ he asks, courteously.
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘I’m fine. And yourself?’
To your astonishment, he actually seems to be a little shamefaced as he says, ‘I’m sorry I urged you to have the broth at Namjoon and Nayeon’s the other day.’
‘It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,’ you say, neutrally.
‘What are you doing here?’
It’s your turn to look repentant.
‘I got Yoongi blacklisted from all the country clubs. I’m getting him re-invited to all of them.’
Seokjin’s gaze is penetrating.
‘You seem like you’re really trying to make amends,’ he observes.
‘Yeah well, I was, like you keep pointing out to me, a brat.’
He’s been walking with you to the lobby.
‘Can I offer you a lift anywhere?’ he asks.
‘Ah, I’ll just wait for a cab.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t Yoongi have a driver?’
‘He does. I don’t.’
Seokjin nods to the car waiting for him. ‘Do you have other country clubs to go to?’
‘I have four left,’ you say.
Seokjin looks at you in firm way he does. ‘Come on. I’ll take you.’
You climb into the back seat with Seokjin.
‘You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me and dispose of my body, are you?’ you ask, only half-joking.
Seokjin settles back in his seat and loosens his tie.
‘I’ve got the afternoon off, and I’d prefer not to commit murder during it,’ he says, not reassuringly.
With Seokjin by your side, the next meeting is almost enjoyable. You even get offered champagne, which you gulp down.
Seokjin looks at you, amused. ‘Stressful day for you?’
‘You make me nervous,’ you admit.
‘I just don’t want Yoongi to be hurt anymore.’
You digest the idea that Yoongi wasn’t just inconvenienced and embarrassed, but actually hurt by your actions of the last few years.
That would imply he cared.
You’re staring out the window, thinking, when Seokjin says. ‘Of course, he didn’t want to marry you either, at the beginning.’
You chew on your lip.
‘But he was willing to make his best effort to be a good husband to you. He’s decent like that.’
You turn your head so Seokjin can’t see your face.
He’s not wrong. Yoongi’s never once retaliated for anything you’ve done to him.
Instead he’d grown progressively more cold and impatient and distant.
The wave of guilt surprises you with its depth.
‘I’ll make it up to him,’ you say, quietly.
Seokjin puts his hand on your arm so you’ll look at him.
‘He has a real soft spot for you,’ he tells you. ‘God knows why, I would have punished you long ago.’
You flick your eyes up at him. ‘Luckily I married a more forgiving man than you,’ you say, summoning your haughtiest tone.
Seokjin just laughs. ‘We both want the best for him,’ he says. ‘Maybe you’re not such a cold hearted bitch after all.’
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. We aren’t friends,’ you sneer, out of habit.
Seokjin turns away and laughs quietly to himself.
At your next meeting, Seokjin gets whiskey served to you.
You’re a total lightweight, and with your empty stomach, you know you’re heading to a danger zone.
But damn, it’s also intoxicating having polished, suave Seokjin by your side at these meetings with older men.
It’s after your final meeting, three drinks later, that Seokjin says, ‘dinner?’
You hold on to his arm to steady yourself.
‘Maybe we can have dinner at mine,’ you suggest.
‘Great idea,’ Seokjin beams. ‘I love Mrs Gye’s cooking.’
You never actually make it inside the house.
Yoongi finds you and Seokjin sprawled on the front steps, arguing about which country club offered the best membership package.
You slap a brochure onto the steps between you.
‘This was clearly the best deal,’ you announce. You squint but it doesn’t make the words any clearer.
Seokjin sweeps the brochure away dramatically.
‘Wasn’t.’
‘Wassss.’
Yoongi says, dryly, ‘why do people who can’t handle their alcohol go drinking?’
Both you and Seokjin glare at each other, then at him.
Yoongi sighs. ‘I can’t carry both of you at once.’
‘Take the asshole first,’ you snap.
Seokjin leans towards you menacingly. ‘What did you call me?’
Yoongi hurriedly lifts you up under the arms, and you curl into his chest.
‘Take me to bed, Yoongi,’ you say, looking up at him.
‘You’re heavier than you look,’ Yoongi grunts.
‘It’s my brain,’ you say, trying be helpful.
Seokjin snorts rudely behind you.
Yoongi says, voice low, rumbling in his chest, ‘ignore him.’
You press a kiss to Yoongi’s chest. ‘Sorry I’m so heavy.’
He smiles at you with that looks like affection.
‘It’s fine. I’ll just drop you if it’s too much for me.’
Yoongi helps you into bed and unzips your dress.
‘Can you do the rest so I can get Seokjin?’ he asks.
You nod, convincingly. You’re still trying to tug your arm out of the sleeve when you give up and pass out.
Yoongi helps Seokjin into your bed and returns to his room to find you sprawled exactly where he left you, half undressed.
He slips your dress off you. You crack an eye open.
‘Yoongi,’ you say, whiny.
Yoongi replies, ‘yes?’
‘I just want you to like me,’ you say. For a moment you look completely lucid, and sad.
His heart gives a dangerous jolt then, like somehow, you’ve worked your way into it. Like a household pest.
Yoongi can’t bear the thought of exterminating you.
‘Stop being so annoying then,’ Yoongi says, trying to be stern but it comes out weak. He’s not even convincing himself at this point.
You put your hand over your heart. ‘I’ll try my best,’ you promise.
***
At breakfast, Yoongi frowns at his phone.
‘Why am I getting invited to become a member of every country club in the vicinity?’
Seokjin, dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, mumbles something unintelligible into his cereal.
You look up from your pancakes and through your sunglasses at your husband.
‘I got you blacklisted from every single country club in the area when we first got married, so I spent yesterday getting you reinvited.’
You point your fork at Seokjin and say, grudgingly, ‘Seokjin helped.’
Seokjin sips his juice.
‘Why did we drink so much?’ he asks.
‘You’re the one that kept asking for drinks,’ you point out.
Yoongi holds up a hand between you to break you up.
‘Why?’ he asks.
‘I’m making up for being awful to you,’ you tell him.
Yoongi frowns. ‘Is that why you’ve been so erratic lately?’
You’re offended. ‘I’m not erratic.’
‘Taking me to that basketball game? Buying me at the auction? Dinner at Namjoon and Nayeon’s?’ Yoongi asks.
‘Riding you in the shower yesterday,’ you add.
Seokjin covers his ears.
‘I’m being nice,’ you say.
Yoongi says, ‘I appreciate your efforts, but you don’t have to make anything up to me.’
‘She does,’ Seokjin interjects.
You toss a pancake at him.
Yoongi rolls his eyes.
‘We’ll talk later,’ he says to you.
‘I don’t know why he’s still here,’ you say to Yoongi, like Seokjin’s not in the room.
Yoongi pushes your coffee towards you. ‘Drink. Finish your breakfast. Seokjin and I have a meeting to get to. Let’s talk later.’
‘I have a surprise for you tonight,’ you say, remembering.
Yoongi leans down to kiss your cheek.
‘I don’t like surprises.’
‘You’ll like this one,’ you promise.
***
You once sent a troupe of strippers to put on a show at an important business meeting Yoongi had organised with a notoriously conservative client.
The deal had fallen through despite months of preparation and expense.
It was then that Yoongi had finally snapped and called you a cold hearted bitch for the first time.
You’d thought long and hard about how to make this up to him, and you don’t know enough about his company to source an equivalent deal.
You’re hoping dancing for him in the red teddy he got you will help.
You’re not a bad dancer, and you’ve been taking lessons for weeks, enough that you’re pretty confident you can pull it off.
You’ve hired a room in an underground sex club, hoping the gritty feel will add to the thrill of it.
Yoongi raises his eyebrows when you lead him through the private entrance off the street, down a flight of stairs, to a darkened corridor.
You lift the keycard out of your thigh-high stockings and unlock the door.
You’d shared a bottle of wine at dinner, and you’re feeling good.
There’s a chair in the middle of the room, like you’d specified. The lights are off apart from a blue glow. It’s dark enough to lend a sense of intimacy, but light enough that you can see Yoongi’s gorgeous face clearly.
God, your husband looks beautiful tonight, all in black, his lips stained from the wine.
He leans back on the chair, legs spread, watching you.
The one thing you’ve always liked about Yoongi that he knows when to keep his mouth shut.
His lips part as you turn in front of him and unzip your dress. It puddles on the floor in a shimmering heap.
You hit play on the music and start dancing.
Yoongi’s gaze focuses intensely on you as you dance for him. You put your legs on his thighs, pushing them apart to make space for yourself as you shimmy between them.
Your ass brushes his crotch, deliberately, lingering longer and longer with each pass until you’re grinding against him.
Yoongi, like a seasoned strip club connoisseur, keeps his hands to himself, braced on his thighs.
You turn so you’re facing him, leaning forward to encourage him to look down the top of your silky teddy. Your nipples are stiff, pushing against the silk, and you put two fingers in his mouth.
He needs no prompting, sucking on your fingers, tongue delving between them suggestively.
You put a hand on his shoulder and run your wet fingers over your nipples.
Yoongi grunts, eyes fixed on your tits.
You slide your hand down between your legs and lean over him to whisper in his ear.
‘I’m imagining your fingers here, Yoongi,’ you purr, gratified by how you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps.
Yoongi licks his lips. His voice, when it comes out, is so deep you’re wet just listening to him.
‘You know you really fuck me off sometimes,’ he says.
For the first time since you started dancing for him, you falter.
You look at him uncertainly.
His hand comes out, landing on your silk-covered hip, long fingers splaying over your ass.
‘I think it’s your face,’ he muses, almost like he’s talking to himself. ‘Your face is so fucking bratty I want to shove my dick in your mouth just to shut you up.’
He pulls you down so you’re sitting in his lap, straddling him.
He cups your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. His thumb traces over your bottom lip, teasing at the seam of your lips until your lips part enough for him to slip his thumb in.
Automatically, you suck.
‘There,’ Yoongi says. ‘You always look so pretty with me in your mouth.’
You can’t help yourself. You whimper around his thumb.
‘I like this even more though,’ he says.
Eyes on you, he moves his hand down your hip, cupping you between your legs, parted on his lap.
Like this, you’re spread out on top of him.
Yoongi hisses as he feels how slick you are. He teases at your clit, one finger slipping into you.
You say his name. God, he feels good.
He curls his finger, and you whimper again.
‘Your little pussy knows it belongs to me,’ he says, almost conversational, as he strokes your clit.
He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your breast as he fingers you, tongue laving the red silk.
You slip a strap down your shoulder so your breast is exposed, nipple taut for him.
‘Do it properly, Yoongi,’ you whine.
Yoongi laughs darkly. ‘Where’s your manners, baby?’
Your mouth snaps closed, lips thinning into a straight line. Your eyes flash at him.
Yoongi’s looking at you.
‘There you are,’ he says, but oddly, there’s affection in his voice.
He tilts his head to slant his mouth over yours in a slow kiss at the same time his fingers start scissoring inside you.
He smells so good. He pulls away and leans his forehead against yours.
‘I kiss you all the time, brat, how could you say we skip straight to the fucking?’
You’re hazy with pleasure, his fingers haven’t stopped moving inside you, and he always seems to go unerringly to the spot that makes you cry out his name and beg for more.
You’re begging now.
‘Yoongi,’ you moan.
‘Who fucks you like this, brat?’ he hisses.
‘You,’ you answer, ‘please, Yoongi.’
‘That’s right,’ he says. ‘That’s fucking right.’
You’re grinding against his hand now, each movement making you flutter around his fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, chasing your high.
Yoongi pulls his fingers out, and you cry out.
‘Yoongi!’
‘Cum on my cock, let me feel you.’
You fumble with the zipper on his pants, and he hisses as you draw him out.
He grabs your hips and sinks you down onto his cock.
Fuck, he’s so thick and hot you could cum even if he stayed perfectly still.
Yoongi shudders. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Feel me, baby? You get me so hard for you it hurts.’
Your eyes are squeezed shut, concentrating on the feel of him.
‘So fucking tight for me, shit.’
You’re already starting to tighten around his cock when he slaps your thigh. ‘Go on, this is what you wanted isn’t it? Fucking take it, baby.’
His voice is low, slurred, pupils blown all the way.
He’s rude as fuck, and you’re about to cum your brains out thinking about it.
Only Min Yoongi could do this to you.
He knows it. His breathing is ragged, but he somehow has the presence of mind to say, ‘fuck. Does my baby want tenderness too?’
His lips press against yours, he slides his tongue into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.
‘Fucking cum for me,’ he murmurs.
You slam your hips against his again, and finally, finally, you cum.
You curl into his chest, and he’s there, mouth on your hair.
‘You did so well,’ he tells you. ‘Waving that ass in the air for me, shit. Wearing this. You’re gonna need to do this again.’
‘I want to be good for you,’ you say.
Yoongi tilts your face so you’ll look at him.
‘Why? I’m a cold bastard most of the time.’
‘You have a nice cock,’ you offer.
Yoongi laughs. ‘You can have my cock anytime. It’s all yours.’
‘Oh are we exclusive now?’ you tease.
‘I’m wearing your ring around my finger,’ Yoongi reminds you, showing you his hand.
You tilt your head, pretending to think about it.
‘I’ll get you another ring to put around your cock.’
Yoongi grins and slaps your ass, gently. ‘Come on, get dressed. I want to get into bed with you. It’s my favourite part of the day.’
You want to ask if he really means that, but he’s already opening the door.
***
Yoongi looks pretty sexy when he’s concentrating, you decide.
You’ve graduated from sleeping together to also spending time together in his study sometimes in the evenings.
You’re trying to concentrate on reading a brief your social media manager prepared for you, but really your husband who isn’t doing anything other than frowning at his work, is distracting you.
Yoongi glances at you. ‘Need help with anything?’
You hum.
He walks around his desk to stand next to you.
‘What are you working on?’
You show him your brief. ‘Just prepping for a meeting tomorrow.’
Yoongi looks like he’s concentrating again, reading over your shoulder.
‘I’ve got it, Yoongi,’ you tell him.
He glances at you.
‘I didn’t say you didn’t.’
You try to ignore the flare of irritation as Yoongi walks back to his desk.
You know Yoongi has a sharp intellect and great business instincts. He’s earned every bit of his impressive reputation.
You’d be a fool to turn down his help.
Maybe you are a fool. But you don’t want him to see you as the impulsive devil-may-care hellion he married. You want to show him that you, too, have earned your right for respect in your role.
You chew on that for a bit, and finally, sighing, give up and go to bed.
You guess it’s going to take a bit longer to change Yoongi’s perception of you.
***
You got up to a lot of shenanigans on your honeymoon with Yoongi.
You were drunk for a lot of it, so you don’t remember much, but the bits you do remember are all bad.
You’d started drinking on the plane and spent the first night throwing up in the hotel bathroom.
And the second. Possibly the third.
You’d straight up disappeared after breakfast one day and had spent a day wandering the city on your own.
You’d also refused to sleep with him, claiming you were being treated for gonorrhoea. You’d accused him of giving it to you, which was how you’d ended up getting your hands on his test results to send to his company.
At least this is an easy thing to make up to Yoongi.
You couldn’t possibly make it a worse experience.
You’ve organised a weekend away with him, in a rustic little cabin by the lakes.
It works on many levels. The cabin’s a fair drive away, which means you get to watch your husband drive sexily. You think Yoongi likes nature, and you envisage doing a bit of paddling, maybe some fishing.
Also, the isolation of the cabin means you won’t get any noise complaints, important because you intend on fucking Yoongi constantly this weekend.
You’re still congratulating yourself on your genius when Yoongi wakes up the morning you’re due to leave.
You’ve been awake for hours.
The smile you turn on him is so bright he grimaces.
Ah. You keep forgetting he’s not a morning person. Also you have no idea what time he got in last night.
You scurry out of bed to grab him a coffee and promptly trip over his slippers.
Yoongi swears behind you. ‘Why do you keep falling over my slippers? They’re in the same place every time.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t leave them there,’ you retort, hurt.
Then you remember you’re on your best behaviour.
You bite your tongue and go to grab him a coffee.
When you get back, he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling.
‘Got you coffee,’ you say, holding out his mug.
He accepts with a gravelly ‘thanks.’
You’re brushing your teeth when he says, ‘there’s been a supply problem with the new line we’re launching. I may need to spend time this weekend on the phone.’
‘That’s fine,’ you say, brightly. You’re determined not to let anything mar your new honeymoon weekend.
Yoongi says, gently, ‘is there any way we could reschedule?’
You stare at him. ‘Do you not want to go?’
The words are out before you get a chance to think them over. You could kick yourself at the neediness in your tone.
Yoongi says, ‘of course I want to go, I just don’t want you to be disappointed.’
You’re starting to wonder if he’s trying to tell you he doesn’t want to go.
‘I won’t be disappointed,’ you say, watching his face carefully.
Yoongi smiles at you. ‘Then let’s set off after breakfast.’
Yoongi’s quiet as he’s driving, and you notice how tired he looks. You’re just about to suggest he pulls over to let you drive when he says, ‘something on my face?’
‘You look tired,’ you say.
‘I am tired,’ he tells you. He smiles at you, faintly. ‘This upcoming collaboration with Novatech will be the biggest, most high-stakes project I’ve started since I took over from my father. I can’t afford for it to fail.’
‘Why would it fail?’ you ask.
‘There are a lot of moving parts,’ Yoongi says, vaguely.
‘I’m sure it’ll be a roaring success,’ you say, faith firmly in your capable, successful husband.
Yoongi says, ‘just don’t try to sabotage me.’
You say, earnestly, ‘those days are behind me.’
‘It’s a shame,’ Yoongi says, ‘I’m going to miss spanking you for misbehaving.’
That reminds you.
‘You can spank me anytime,’ you tell Yoongi. ‘Also, check out these new panties I bought.’
Yoongi glances at you and nearly swerves off the road.
‘Are you wearing crotchless panties?’ he asks, and he looks intrigued and flustered all at once.
‘It’s called an ouvert,’ you explain. ‘That’s French for open.’
Yoongi mutters something to himself you don’t quite catch.
‘What did you say?’ you ask, sweet as pie.
‘I said, your fucking pussy is going to kill me,’ Yoongi says.
He gives you a half smile, lazy, devastating.
‘I can’t think of a better way to go.’
***
Yoongi’s phone rings the moment you step into the cabin.
You wonder if you should have plumped for somewhere more rustic with no cell reception.
You unpack half-heartedly, watching from the window as he paces around outside the cabin.
He rubs a hand over his forehead, looking more stressed and tired than you’ve ever seen him.
Maybe he’s been stressed like this before but you haven’t been paying attention.
You come out to bring him a glass of water.
He smiles at you, still on his phone.
You flash him your ass and glance back to see if he’s watching.
He isn’t.
When Yoongi’s done on the phone you grab him.
‘Want to go for a walk? I’ll protect you from the wolves.’
‘I am the wolf,’ Yoongi says, but it’s half hearted.
‘Hey, why don’t you take a break. I’ll rub your back.’
Yoongi perks up at your suggestion, and it’s the most animated you’ve seen him all day.
You get him to lay on the bed just in his briefs.
You wonder if you’ll ever get used to how beautiful his body is.
You put your hands on his shoulders and knead, and his deep groan makes you feel good in so many ways.
You can feel Yoongi’s muscles relax as you massage over his shoulders and down his back. When you get to his legs he twitches a little like he’s falling asleep.
By the time you get to his feet he’s dead asleep.
You cover him with a blanket and a kiss and head out for a walk.
When you get back he’s still asleep, so you make a space for yourself next to him and join him.
You’re awakened by Yoongi’s hand on your shoulder.
‘Hey, I made dinner for us.’
You blink, disoriented. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s late. Come on. We’ll sleep better when we’re full.’
Yoongi’s made ram-don. You sigh happily as you sit down in front of the steaming bowl. Instead of sitting across from you, Yoongi slides in next to you.
His thigh nudges yours. He puts his free hand on your thigh.
You look at him curiously.
Yoongi says, ‘eat.’
The noodles are delicious, but you find you’re enjoying Yoongi’s hand on your thigh just as much.
You put your hand on his, and smile at him as he knits your fingers together.
It’s sweet, and silly, and something you wouldn’t expect from your normally brisk, impatient husband.
Yoongi watches you finish your noodles, enjoying the warmth of your thigh and hand. He shifts a little, because he’s quite sure he shouldn’t have a raging hard-on from doing something as innocent as holding your hand.
You’re smiling at him so happily. If Yoongi’d known that holding your hand would be enough to make you smile like that he’d have tried to hold hands with you this whole time.
You’re finished with your late dinner. Yoongi stops you when you get up to start clearing up.
‘Let me do it. Why don’t we watch a movie? You set it up and I’ll clear up here.’
By the time Yoongi finishes clearing up, you’re ensconced on the couch, so covered in blankets he can barely see you. The lights are low, the TV on playing some movie Yoongi knows he’s not going to get into.
He’d rather watch you.
He slides in next to you and holds out his arm.
You look at him like you’ve never been invited to snuggle before.
To be fair, Yoongi doesn’t think you’ve ever done this together.
He lowers his arm like he’s changed his mind, and you’re next to him so quickly he has to bite back a smile.
You rest your head in the curve between his neck and shoulder, cheek on his chest.
Your hand flutters over his torso, finally landing on his stomach. You turn in, nose against his chest, breathing him in.
It’s adorable. You’re adorable.
Yoongi wants to fight dragons for you.
He leans down and sniffs your hair as quietly as he can.
Your breathing is easy, slow, and Yoongi realises you’ve fallen asleep when you go boneless in his arms.
He wonders if you know how much he’s prepared to do for you if you ever asked.
Summary: Dating the world’s fastest growing boxer meant several things – kissing his wounds at the end of every fight, watching countless boxing matches to study new techniques with him, and worrying like crazy as different men every night tried to bash his face in. But what happens when tensions run high after a match and Jungkook throws your support back in your face? Angst/fluff. Inspired by Jungkook’s Instagram post earlier today!
Cheers erupted from all around as the fan-favorite fighter landed a knock-out punch to the long-time reigning champion, effectively knocking him to the ground with no signs that he would be getting up any time soon. It seemed it was time to crown a new champion.
It always astounded you how die-hard these boxing fans were. You would think these matches were a life-or-death affair. Well, you backtracked in your own mind. In a way they were. The fights were always unpredictable. Injuries happened all of the time, some including career-ending injuries. Of course, safety regulations had been updated in recent years to minimize the chance of this happening, but still. It was a dangerous sport and things happened.
Looking around at the screaming crowd, you never in a million years would have thought you would be at an event like this. Of course, there were a lot of things that had changed in your life after a certain Jeon Jungkook entered it.
Growing up, you had always been a quiet, meek individual. Violence was not something you approved of or enjoyed. Movies that took the action a little too far were even too much for you, which was why everyone in your life was surprised when you began dating the rookie boxer who was quickly rising in popularity.
You hadn’t known who Jungkook was or what he did for a living when you had first met. It wasn’t until a few dates in that he finally opened up about what he actually did. He had been so endearing that night too, so afraid he would lose you once you found out how he really spent his weekends.
In all honesty, you had surprised yourself with how easily you took the news. Of course, it terrified you to think of someone trying to harm him for sport. You were an anxious mess during his matches, flinching every time a punch or kick was landed to his body. Fortunately, being ridiculously talented as he was at everything, those instances were rare. It was no surprise he was so popular. He was quick and he was good. He was able to see a fist flying his way, dodge it easily, and land a strike of his own before his opponent could even realize what had happened.
It took quite a while before you had finally mustered up the courage to come to one of his matches. Once everything was out in the open, Jungkook had been so excited for you to see him in action, to look out at the crowd and see you right there cheering him on. You had understandably been very hesitant, however, not wanting to see him hurting and also not wanting to see him hurting others. Jungkook became an entirely different person when he was in the ring. The first time you had seen it, your mind had trouble connecting the deadly warrior pummeling men to the ground with your soft bunny of a boyfriend who would hold you as if you would break and who would pout at you if you had forgotten to go the store and pick up the banana milk he so dearly loved.
✗ requested by anon for my 1.2k follower event, and based off prompt C45.
→ pairing: otter hybrid!yoongi x human f!reader
→ genre: fluff
→ word count: 3k
→ warnings: none.
→ summary: it was perhaps too easy to fall in love with your hybrid neighbour turned friend, especially when he seems to have a knack for fixing all the things other people can’t.
You wrinkle your nose as you stir the boiling porridge, the unmistakable scent of ocean filling your apartment. You’ve cracked open the window in the kitchen in a desperate attempt to air it out, but the musty summer heat only seems to make the smell worse. Soft murmurs and your air conditioner spluttering on and off is the only thing keeping you company as you try not to gag at the heavy smell, and you let out a relieved sigh when you can finally reduce the heat to a simmer.
You resist the urge to turn around as you hear Yoongi’s low swears, the AC rattling loudly as he attempts to wrestle it back into working. It’s the third time in the last week it’s been dying on you, and the maintenance staff in your dorm obviously doesn’t know how to fix it properly. So, you’ve enlisted Yoongi’s help instead. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last that you beg your neighbour turned friend for help – not when he’s so good at fixing whatever he gets his hands on. You don’t think you’ll ever quite get over the fact that he managed to fix your broken computer by simply turning it around, giving it a few harsh knocks at the back and then booting it up. The old thing was truly only a hair away from going in the trash by how it kept randomly turning off and freezing up, but after Yoongi touched it, it was like it was back to brand new. You’re still not entirely convinced that Yoongi isn’t some sort of wizard – his hybrid genes aside.
“There we go,” You can hear the pleased smile in his voice as the AC seems to finally give in to Yoongi’s tinkering, the sound of cold air rushing into your apartment making you all too aware of the hair plastered to your nape.
summary: after leaving you high and dry, you wondered just how far you could push your boyfriend until he snapped.
You were making coffee when you felt Taehyung wrap himself around you, mouthing sleepily at the spot where the nape of your neck bled into your shoulder.
“G’morning,” he mumbled, nose skimming underneath your ear.
Summary: They say if you fold a thousand paper cranes, the gods grant you one wish. The day you gave Kim Taehyung his first paper crane was the day you bound your fates together.
♦ Pairing: Taehyung x female reader
♦ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.
♦ Type: One shot
♦ Word Count: 20,712
♦ Genre: established relationship, angst, idol!au
♦ Warnings: Angst; anxiety, self-depreciating thoughts, relationship struggles, mild description of anxiety attack (in the form of crying), mild jealousy, growing pains in a relationship, explicit sexual content, oral (f. and m. receiving, and in 69 LOL) nipple play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't do this guys), spitting, face sitting, sub-space like headspace post orgasm, crying, did I mention angst, ANGST, poor communication (they're young at parts ok), mentions of a toxic relationship between reeder and Taehyung's work (we stan hybe in real life ok), biting. I think I got it all but PLEASE tell me if I miss something.
♦ Main Masterlist: here
A/N: This is an absolute labor of love. I wanted to post this when I got back from PTD LV, but the trip was very long and exhausting and I work a full-time job in sports so I'm kind of tapped out of energy. I edited this to the best of my ability, but I'm still adjusting to writing a y/n format instead of an original character. I am posting this way later than I meant to, but here she is, inspired by the Olivia Rodrigo Dilemma TM (not really, still love her ok) and fueled by brain rot from seeing this man live in Vegas on D3.
The first time you folded Kim Taehyung a paper crane was at ten years old. Standing in the classroom during free time, you watched the quiet boy sit in the corner of the reading nook, wide eyes watery as he nibbled his lip, a second away from crying. You knew it was because Jihoon made fun of Taehyung’s dialect again. It was distinctly different from everyone else’s- farm boy they called him.
So you wandered to your desk, carefully taking out coveted construction paper, setting to the task of folding him a paper crane. You remembered your mother handing you one when you were stick, telling you that if you folded one-thousand paper cranes, you would have a single wish.
In that moment, watching the new boy in your class flounder at making friends, you wished you could make him feel better.
Little fingers pressed the folds carefully. It had taken a long time to memorize the folds, how to press your fingers along each seam to perfect the bird. Within a few moments, you examined your work, a sideways grin flashing on your face as you delicately picked up the red bird, cradling it to your chest as you approached Taehyung.
His dark brown hair was unruly, hanging in his eyes as he regarded your approach warily, brown eyes flicking from head to toe in alarm. You gave him a disarming smile, stopping a few feet away. Suddenly nervous, you looked at your scuffed shoes as you held your hand out, “To make you feel better.”
Taehyung eyed the paper creation. “How will a swan make me feel better?”
“It’s not a swan, it’s a crane. My mom gives them to me when I’m sick.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Well, feeling sad is a lot like feeling sick.” You offered the crane again, holding it higher. Tentatively, the boy took the paper crane from your hands, handling it with care. He held it up at eye level, the side of his mouth kicking up slightly. You felt warmth in your cheeks as you murmured, “I’m y/n.”
“My name is Taehyung. You can call me Tae.”
“Do you want to be friends, Tae?”
He beams, a boxy grin flashing pearly teeth. “I would like that.”
-
The second and third cranes came when Taehyung got a cold around Christmas. A fast friendship formed between the two of you, keeping Taehyung at your side and threatening to punch Jihoon if he continues to make fun of Taehyung’s accent. Jihoon knew you were good on your word- everyone remembered how you socked Choi Jisung the year prior for pulling your hair at recess.
Taehyung, though much taller than you, had delicate feelings. He wasn’t overly sensitive, but you learned early on that he felt everything full force. He was as quick to anger as he was to grow sad, and the things that he loved, he loved entirely. Wholeheartedly. You loved the way he experienced the world through his emotion.
Though you had tried to teach Taehyung how to fold the cranes, he was helpless. He was better at other things: painting and taking photos. But above all else, even as a boy, Taehyung had a beautiful, dulcet voice.
Through the early years, it was always easy to be by his side. You shared classes together and you lived relatively close. There was nothing hidden between the two of you.
Sometimes you fought- Taehyung and you were polar opposites. Despite making a move that first day as a ten-year-old, Taehyung was more expressive and outgoing than you were. He exploded in middle school, personality lighting up the room while you hung back, nervously watching from the sides as he made more friends.
But the fighting was never bad. It was nothing a folded paper crane couldn’t solve.
Sitting on your couch with a book tucked into your lap, you heard the front door open and close. Glancing up, you watched as Taehyung crashed into the living room, nearly tripping over the beaten-up converse. His flannel was too large for him, his hair long enough to cover the tops of his ears.
It didn’t matter how Taehyung dressed, though. Even at fifteen, he was devastatingly cute. You tried to tuck away the fleeting thought as you sat up on the couch, half-startled as he began rambling faster than you could follow.
“Slow down!” You demanded, snapping the book shut. “Start over again, you maniac.”
“You know how I went to the audition with Minho today?” You nodded, aware that Taehyung’s friend- emphasis on Taehyung’s- Minho was auditioning for one of the multiple trainee programs in the music industry. You weren’t sold on Minho as a star, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. “They asked me to audition.”
“Seriously?” This captured your attention. Taehyung had been musically inclined for as long as you had known him. You were responsible for most of the jazz records in his collection, years’ worth of birthday and Christmas gifts. “How did that go?”
“They really liked me, I think. They said I would get a call back in a week to let me know if I made it to the next stage.”
You beamed. He was vibrating with energy. “How do you feel about it- like are you excited?”
“I think so?” Taehyung sat down on the couch next to you, folding limbs that were awkwardly long for a teenager’s body. His knee rested against yours as he leaned back on the couch, throwing an arm over the top, just above your shoulders. “I never really put much thought into these trainee programs. They’ll expect me to be able to dance, sing, be aesthetically pleasing and all kinds of other stuff.”
Perfect. They would expect Taehyung to be perfect. You could see the doubt hedging in his gaze as he chewed on his lip, eyes fixed to his lap. You reached out and grabbed his hands. They were warm, dwarfing yours as you folded your fingers around his, ignoring the giddy feeling shooting through your stomach.
“You’d be really good at it.”
A shy smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. Pink tinged the tops of his cheeks and he didn’t look at you as he muttered, “You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
“I don’t have to say anything,” you disagreed. “In fact, I consider myself quite honest. It was me who told you that your purple, over-sized blazer for the dance was ugly.”
“Our fashion tastes are different!”
“It was still an honest opinion.” You squeezed his hand and he looked up at you. Taehyung’s eyes were your favorite thing about him- his gaze was intense and dark, always burning. Being under the gaze of Kim Taehyung made you squirm, no matter how close you were as friends. “Everything happens for a reason. I think you should feel positive about it, and if it doesn’t work out? So what- you didn’t plan on that career path anyway.”
“That’s true.” Taehyung blew out a puff of air, slumping into your shoulder where he buried his face. It was harder to ignore the fluttering in your stomach, the nervousness slithering it’s way to your hands where they were still connected with Taehyung’s. “Whatever would I do without you, Swan?”
You hummed, blush creeping up your neck and cheeks at the childhood nickname. You had never let him forget he thought the first crane you ever gave him was a swan. Somehow after the endless teasing, the nickname found its way to you and stuck. “The feeling is mutual, Tae.”
-
Though each paper crane you folded for Taehyung was not entirely the same as the last, repeating paper was something inevitable. For special occasions or for big apologies, you always chose special paper. The fight with Taehyung after calling him shallow for liking the same, pretty girl everyone liked in grade seven had been made of shining, rose gold foil. To Taehyung, it was just a new paper, an out of the box design from the hundreds of cranes you had already given him.
For you, it was more. It was an apology for being jealous. A hope that he might thing the rose gold was romantic. It was a cry for him to notice how much you had started to see him as more than a friend. As more than the boy that you befriended at ten years old.
Every crane you ever folded for him meant different things. You liked to use them for apologies and for good luck. Sometimes just as little surprises with gifts for holidays. But each one meant something, even if Taehyung didn’t realize it. You weren’t sure when they started meaning more, but every fold of the paper felt like a secret. Every crease you bent into place felt like you were whispering your innermost thoughts.
You were pretty sure that to Taehyung, they were just a fun little joke between you. But to you, they were hundreds of pieces of paper holding everything you ever wanted to say to him. It was hard to tell which one of the cranes was the first one to say I’m in love with you, but most of them carried the same sentiment.
The newly folded crane sitting on your desk felt particularly special. It was made of the same red, craft paper that you used for the first crane you ever made him. It had been a lengthy process trying to pick out the same shade of red and the same rough texture, but it was similar enough, if not an exact replica.
There were hundreds of things that you wanted this crane in particular to say. I love you. I’m proud of you. I miss you already. Staring at the dainty bird, you felt your throat tighten. Taking a deep breath, you will the subtle burn in your eyes to fade, for the tightness constricting your throat to let go.
Taehyung was moving to Seoul full-time. He had been accepted as a trainee and for several months, he had been actively going back and forth from his home to Seoul, chasing a new dream with wild abandon. You were so happy for him, though you saw him less and had to opt for talking on the phone more. You could accept that- would accept that.
Anything for Taehyung.
Fairy lights twinkled in your bedroom. The bedroom theme was still Sailor Moon, posters of Sailor Scouts peeling from the walls, a one-eyed Luna stuffed pillow on the edge of your bed. It was your favorite pillow, despite the family dog having gotten ahold of one of its eyes. It still smelled like Taehyung, as it was his favorite to cuddle while watching scary movies.
Evidence of Taehyung was everywhere. Your eyes drifted around your room. Polaroids from the camera he got you for your fourteenth birthday were pinned to the cork board with colored tacs. Picture frames with ‘best friends’ ‘bffl’ and other just as vomit-inducing phrases crowded the corners of your dresser and desk.
The thick feeling in your throat returned. Taehyung moving three hours away meant that all the pieces on your walls and in frames was all you would have. A nasty feeling akin to resentment curled in your stomach for a moment. Resentment that he was going to make new friends. That he was leaving you behind.
The resentment was really just fear.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs to your room. You jumped from your bed, adjusting your shirt nervously, folding your hands behind your back as Taehyung opened the door, panting lightly from his run up the stairs. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a shirt that was entirely too large for him, hair shaggy and swept to the side as was the popular style.
“Why are you standing like that?” He asked, single brow raised as he dropped into your computer chair. You realized you were standing rigid in front of your bed and took a deep breath, trying to let yourself relax. Taehyung watched you curiously. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
“Liar. What’s wrong?”
You chewed the side of your lip, already red and chapped from the endless pull of your teeth. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered. The tears lined your eyes, shining and threatening to spill over. Taehyung was up out of the seat and in front of you in seconds as they spilled over. “Sorry, I’m being stupid.”
Taehyung bent so that he was eye-level with you, hands brushing up your arms to cradle your face, thumbs wiping the freshly spilled tears. “Hey,” he murmured. You stared at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze. His grip on you increased, forcing you to look up at him. His face was open and vulnerable, eyes rounded with worry. “You’re not being stupid. You’re allowed to be upset- I don’t want to leave you either.”
“Really?”
“Are you kidding? You’re… you’re my best friend in the entire world, Swan. I’m not even sure if this entire thing is going to work out. I am absolutely fucking terrified, honestly. I’ll get over that and I’ll make new friends but… they won’t be you. They never will be.”
More tears spilled out at his words. He hummed, standing up and pulling you in close, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The dam broke as you wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest to cry openly. Taehyung smelled like sandalwood soap, a scent that had become your favorite.
Closing your eyes, you let him hold you. He didn’t let go, intent on holding you for as long as you needed. Composing yourself, you pulled away from him gently, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. “Sorry,” you laughed sheepishly. “I’m so excited for you to go but I’m also terrified for you to leave.”
“Well you’ll get to visit. And we’ll talk every night.”
“I know,” you murmured. “I just miss you already.”
Taehyung grinned and wandered over to your desk. You watched as he lifted his hand, a nimble finger tracing the neck of the red paper crane. His smile widened as he looked at it fondly. “It’s red like the first one you ever gave me.”
“You remember?”
“Of course I do.” He gave you an affronted glance. “I remember every crane you’ve ever made me.”
“Oh. I mean, I’ve made a lot.”
Taehyung lifted the crane, holding it delicately in his palm. His intense gaze drifted beyond the scarlet bird, resting on you. His gaze was dark, something heated in it that you were unfamiliar with. Your heart kicked into high gear, staring at him wordlessly as he continued to hold your gaze, the bird in his hand.
I love you the bird seemed to scream at him. I love you I love you I love you.
If the bird could speak, it would confess right then. It would open its mouth and tell him that your palms were growing sweaty under his gaze because you wanted him to put the bird down and kiss you. It would squawk at him that you had loved him for years. It would beg him to remember you. Implore him to love you back.
But the bird did not speak, and the moment passed as he lowered his hand, giving you a smile that was less intense than the broken moment.
“You’ll have to bring me more when you visit,” Taehyung finally said, heaving a sigh. “I don’t remember how to make them.”
-
“Did you get the email I sent to you?” Taehyung asked through the phone. You could barely here him as you wedge the device between your face and shoulder, balancing the books and your bag in your hand as you attempted to let yourself into your house. “Did you drop your phone in the toilet again?”
“Ugh, no! My hands are full, thank you!”
Inside the front door, you dumped your belongings into the catchall tray, huffing. You felt sweaty and sticky from the oncoming heat of summer, hair clinging to your face as you shoved it from your sweaty forehead. “No, I haven’t checked my email. Who sends emails anymore?”
“Open the email, idiot.”
“How did you even get my email?”
“You’ve had the same email since we were in middle school, Swan. Come on, check it before I have to go back to practice, please.”
“Fine,” you growled. It had been a tough day at school. You had a week left before summer, but all of the final tests had run you dry of energy and the oncoming heat was not helping.
You could hear background noise as you put Taehyung on speaker, sifting through your email. It was mostly junk and spam from online shopping, but an email with Taehyung’s new label in the subject caught your attention as you tapped it, eyes scanning the screen.
A flight confirmation with details, a record locator and a bar code stared back at you. Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you stared at it. The flight was in a week- well after you were finished with your eleventh year and at the beginning of your summer break.
Licking your lips, you began to smile.
“Helllllooooo?” Taehyung asked loudly. “How long does it take to find an email, woman? You’re almost eighteen, you should know how to-“
“What is this for?”
“Oh! She does know how to read email. What do you think it’s for, dumbass?”
The return flight was two weeks after you arrived in Seoul. Your heart rate scattered, ramping up in speed as you turned off the speaker and pressed the phone close to your ear. “Taehyung, don’t mess around with me- seriously? What are these flights for?”
“You’re visiting me,” he stated, tone giddy. “I already talked to your parents. My mom and dad will be here for a few days at the same time, by the way.”
“I- ohmygosh I’m coming to see you!”
You couldn’t help but shriek. Though you talked to Taehyung on the phone almost every night, you had only seen him a few times in the last two years. His absence was a festering wound in your side, unable to mend it for long before it reopened again.
It was difficult to stay up late on the phone, trying to trade stories in the rushed amount of time that you shared. Your bed had become a safe haven, falling asleep cradling your phone, hot against your face, as you listened to Taehyung tell you about the new friends he was making, the upcoming reality he was facing of possibly not making it to debut.
You knew he would. You hoped he would. You refused to believe that spending this much time away from him was for nothing.
Taehyung was laughing on the other side of the phone as you screamed, jumping around in circles. You had only been to Seoul twice before, just for quick family vacations. You sort of remembered the sights and sounds, but now you’d be reminded. And Taehyung would be there. he wouldn’t be a phone call away anymore. You had him for two weeks.
It felt like a fever dream.
“Okay, I have to go,” Taehyung laughed. “But I’ll call you tonight so we can plan your trip, okay?”
“Yes! Thank you, Taehyung. Thank you thank you thank you thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better bring me a paper crane.” You agreed- of course you were bringing one. “One last thing,” he said before you hung up. “There’s an attachment to the email as well. It’s a new company thing. With us so close to debuting and me potentially being a part of the group, the company really wants you to sign an NDA.”
You frowned. “What for?”
“To protect me.”
“What am I, a vampire?”
“With the way you hide away in your room? You might be.” He laughed as you scoffed, excitement dialing down as reality settled in. if they were making you sign an NDA, it had to mean they were serious about Taehyung. You had no idea what signing one event meant. “So do I need a lawyer?”
“What? Of course you don’t. But you do have to sign it to visit.”
“Okay.” You nodded before you remembered he couldn’t see you. “I’ll sign it. Do you think they’d accept it in the form of a crane?”
-
Not in a million years would you have thought you’d be nervous to see Kim Taehyung. The same Kim Taehyung who threw up on your favorite blanket during a movie because he ate something bad. The same Kim Taehyung who cried on his thirteenth birthday because you bought him a vinyl record player with money you saved from chores. The same Kim Taehyung who definitely had his first wet dream while sleeping over at your house and refused to come out of the bathroom for almost an hour because he was embarrassed.
You’d seen Taehyung at his worst. Definitely had seen him through his awkward pre-teens where his voice kept wavering between a squeak and something lower, scratchier.
So why were your hands shaking as you rode down the escalator, clutching a carry-on bag? The reality of seeing him after so long apart was gnawing at the edges of your excitement and turning it into anxiety. You had only seen him in snatches since he had left for Seoul, and with their debut date up and coming, he had been unavailable more than ever.
LED screens advertising store fronts and food flashed everywhere. You shifted from foot to foot, chewing your bottom lip as your eyes read the directions to the baggage claim area. Taehyung had promised he would meet you there, and the thumbs up emoji had flashed on your screen immediately after you told him you landed.
Your heart and gut twisted as you reached the bottom of the escalator, launching into a skip, following the signs to your destination. You were careful to keep track of where you were going, eyes flickering from the boarding pass to digital screens directing you to your destination.
Glancing upwards as you neared the correct space, your heart nearly stopped. Taehyung wasn’t facing you, hands tucked in the pockets of his skinny jeans, hat twisted backwards as he stared up at the incoming flight numbers above the baggage claim. He looked beautiful, his tan skin glowing and eyes bright, despite not looking at you. A few girls glanced and giggle in his direction, but Taehyung was oblivious.
As if sensing you had stopped to stare at him, Taehyung turned, dark gaze searching until they found his prize, eyes zeroing in on you. His face lit up, smile radiant as the sun. He didn’t hesitate. He bolted in your direction, drawing you to run at him with equal energy, your shoes hitting the tile as you launched your arms around his neck, crashing into him hard enough that it was painful.
You squeezed your eyes shut. Taehyung was taller than you remembered, towering over you as he squeezed hard, the breath leaving your body. He smelled like sandal wood and lavender, your head swimming as he refused to let you go, swaying you from side-to-side gently.
“Hi, Swan,” Taehyung murmured, the words vibrating into your neck where he tucked his face. A shiver rattled your frame. You hoped he couldn’t feel it as you gave an extra squeeze before peeling yourself away from him. Taehyung made a sound of protest and yanked you back into his chest, squeezing again until you were breathless with laughter. “Just a little longer,” he promised. Your heart began to swell. “Just let me hold you.”
The white-hot knife of insecurity sliced careful at the soft edges of your heart. The things he said, the way he held you- it meant the world to you. A steady ache worked its way from your chest to your throat, and the sudden urge to cry gripped you tight. Fighting it, you laughed as you tried to peel yourself away from him again, suddenly needing distance.
Taehyung’s words and affection was everything you wanted from him, but you knew it had a different meaning when it came from him. The touch of his hand as he lead you to get your bags, the refusal to let you carry your bags to the car, the way he opened the door and introduced you to one of the managers working with his group- it was because Taehyung loved you.
But the way you looked up at him with glittering eyes, the way you listened with your lips partly opened in awe of him, and the way you pressed to his side in the car was because you were in love with Taehyung.
You shoved the thoughts away. Your feelings for him were difficult and confusing, and the next two weeks were about catching up during his well-earned break. After his two weeks, he could or could not be in a k-pop group. So you swallowed the insecurity of your feelings, you stopped entertaining fantasies of being with Taehyung when he put his hand on your knee, and you dedicated yourself to just enjoying the moment with him.
Pretending you’re not in love with him would be easier if everything Taehyung did didn’t send you further into murky waters. He introduced you to his potential bandmates, kissing the top of your head as he proudly announced, This is her. He looked at you then. They’ve all been dying to meet my girl properly. You should probably apologize to Jimin, though. I’ve kept him up late at night with our phone calls.
Being with Taehyung in the city is everything you wanted it to be and more. As the first few days bleed into one another, full of sight-seeing and cramped accommodations at the apartment where all seven of them live, the threat of your feeling lessons. Cramped on the couch between Jimin and Jungkook, you shove the youngest of the group and threaten him with the Wii control within an inch of his life before refocusing on the TV, earning a chuckle from Taehyung as he walks in the room, freshly showered.
“I told you she was a menace with Mario Kart,” he muttered. Jungkook’s round-eyes glanced nervously at you, but you were already focused on the screen again, trying to recover from the banana he had used to sabotage you. It had taken four days, but Jungkook finally could sit in the same room as you without fidgeting or nervously trying to avoid conversation. “You guys thought I was bad, it has nothing on her.”
“MOVE!” Jimin whined, swatting at Taehyung as his lanky figured blocked the vision from the TV. Taehyung swatted back as he momentarily sat on the ground, back facing the couch as he inched his way backwards to settle between your legs. You tried to ignore the way your heart seized, carefully squeezing his shoulders with your knees. “You did that on purpose, now she’s ahead of me!”
“Get over it,” Taehyung snickered. He settled further into the warmth of your thighs, making you hyperaware of him. Your hands were slightly sweaty and you fumbled, giving up your position to Jimin again. Taehyung patted your calf. “Come on, Swan. Kick his ass.”
Jungkook ultimately ended up winning, thrusting his fist in the air as he jumped up. You threw the controller, letting out a noise of frustration as you crossed your arms, leaning back into the couch with a huff as Jungkook declared himself the undisputed, undefeated Mario Kart Champion.
Jimin pat your leg comfortingly. “No one beats Jungkookie, don’t get too mad.”
Taehyung swatted at Jimin’s hands, making a noise that sounded like a very annoyed, very angry squawk. “Hands off, Jimin. Don’t flirt with my Swan.”
Your heart flipped. You gripped it tight and shoved it down deep inside of you, leaning to get the controller instead of contemplating Taehyung’s words. “Rematch, Jeon.”
-
Pomegranate skies made up the Seoul skyline as the sun faded behind the buildings. Taehyung bumped your shoulder with his, laughing as you looked at the rapidly melting bowl of ice cream. Mouth sticky, you grinned at Taehyung as the laughter faded to the background. Your week with him was almost up, but things were good. His parents had left earlier that day, and though having to leave him was looming in the back of your mind, you were happy.
Taehyung was happy.
He was going to debut. He made it. And that was everything to you- everything to him.
The world around the Han River buzzed with energy. Couples strolled along the side walk, fingers laced and pink skies lighting their golden skin. A group of teenager’s rode by on bikes, laughing and hollering as they peddled furiously. People walked their dogs and in general, enjoyed life.
Warmth radiated through your body. The happiness was a mixture of things. It felt nice to be enjoying ice cream sitting on the bench with Taehyung, especially after spending a few days with his parents where they insisted treating you like their own. Their love for him made you miss home a little, but you were with Taehyung, and that was a home like nothing else.
Stirring the slightly melted vanilla with your spoon, you stared down at your feet. The beat up converse you wore matched Taehyung’s, years of dirt and scuff marking them. He knocked his knee to yours, drawing your attention to him. You had to squint slightly, the dying embers of the day still bright behind him.
Your breath caught in your throat. Taehyung looked wreathed in fire, the orange and pink lighting up the edges of his hair. His eyes were bright, burning like embers in the heat of the summer. A few loose strands of hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead. Absently, you reached out and brushed the sticky strands behind his ear, faltering slightly when he leaned into your hand.
Immediately, you dropped your hand. It meant nothing. Taehyung was a naturally an affectionate person, chasing his new band mates and you for physical affection and attention. It was difficult to remind yourself not to read into little things like that- lingering touches, soft smiles when he thought you weren’t looking. You knew it was just Taehyung. It was something you loved about him. One of the reasons you were in love with him.
The thought turned the ice cream sour on your tongue and you dropped your gaze again. “What’s up?”
You picked absently at invisible dust on your shorts. “What?”
“You’ve been doing that since you got here.”
“Doing what?”
“You suddenly get this sad look on your face and look at your shoes.”
You frowned. Were you that transparent? Nervousness fluttered in your stomach as you shook your head and willed yourself to look in his eyes, smiling. “Just don’t want to leave is all.”
Taehyung’s gaze was dark on your face, searching. You held his stare this time, fighting the urge to look away. Sometimes when he looked at you, you swore he knew. It was like he could see down to your soul, peeling away all of the careful little lies you placed delicately to hide the truth from him.
There was no one who knew you better. Several times during the trip already, you swore Taehyung turned to face you and saw the look on your face and that he just knew. Looking at him in the eyes was difficult sometimes, terrified that the windows to your soul would sell you out.
Now, you willed him not to notice, not to see why you had trouble looking at him sometimes.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” Taehyung said eventually. He looked down, length fingers fiddling with the Styrofoam cup in his hand, stains of his chocolate ice cream still there. “It’s been really nice to have you here, Swan.”
“Have to get it in while it lasts, right?”
“What do you mean?”
You leaned back on the bench, hands propping you up as you looked at the rapidly darkening skyline. Neon lights were flickering on in diner windows. Streetlamps buzzed, attracting moths around them. Joggers with blinking safety lights rounded the bend of the Han. The world was so busy beyond the little bubble on the bench with Taehyung.
“Well you’re going to get busy,” you murmured. “I have a good feeling about this thing for you, Tae. You’re totally going to blow up.”
“What does that have to do with anything? There is still a high chance for failure, but even if we somehow managed to become the next thing as my mom keeps calling it, what does it have to do with ‘making things last’?”
“Well- you’ll be busy.”
Taehyung leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he turned and looked at you. His brows were pulled together and his lips were tilted downwards, a prominent pout. “Are you saying I won’t have time for you?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“I’m pretty busy and I make time for you now.”
“I know- I’m thankful for that.”
“But…” Taehyung prompted slowly.
“But,” you agreed. “I had to sign an NDA to come see you. I mean, you haven’t even officially debuted and already there are limits on our friendship. It’s just nice to enjoy this moment while we can still make them. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
You got up to throw out the melted cup of ice cream but Taehyung’s grip on your wrist was iron, weighing you down. “Yes you did. You know I will always make time for you, right?”
“Tae, I didn’t-"
“I need you to acknowledge what I’m telling you.” His fingers squeezed your wrist slightly. “Regardless of where this takes me, you have to know you’re the most important thing to me, right?” Your breath stuttered. You wished he wouldn’t say things like that. “Do you not know that? Have I not made that clear?”
“Jeez,” you hedged, opting for the joke as you pulled your hand from him. “I didn’t realize I was going to upset you. I was just saying there will be less time to see each other. I know we’re best friends, Taehyung.”
For a moment, Taehyung le you walk away. You tossed the cup into the trash, wiping your sticky fingers on your shorts. You were doing anything you could not to look at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket as an excuse to check the time. “It’s getting late, we should-“
“You’re doing it again.”
This time when you looked at him, you were annoyed. “Doing what, Taehyung?”
Taehyung untangled himself from the bench, tossing his empty cup into the trash. He was wearing basketball shorts and a black t-shirt, effortlessly handsome despite the heat and sweat lining his temple. He trailed to you, eyes round and vulnerable.
“You won’t look at me,” he murmured. “What am I doing that makes you do that?”
Taehyung reached towards you and you skittered slightly, wavering between fear of where the conversation was going, knowing that if Taehyung kept asking you would cave. You never lied to him about anything. There had never been a need to. But now he was crowding your space, and the look on his face was open and afraid.
“Swan.” You glanced up at him. You realized you were shifting on your feet, nervousness driving you to keep moving, to expel the energy. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”
“No! I told you, I’m just sad to-"
“Don’t lie to me.” You were stunned to silence at the vehemence in his voice. He wasn’t yelling- Taehyung never yelled. “Is it because you really think I’ll just forget about you? That would-“ he licked his lips slightly, swallowing. “-That would hurt my feelings if you thought that of me. I wouldn’t just push you to the side. I love you.”
“Please don’t say that,” you whispered.
Sweat slicked your palms. You rubbed your hands against your shorts, trying to dry them as your lips twitched slightly. Taehyung had told you he loved you over a hundred times. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand what it did every time he said he loved you. You’d been saying it for so long with such a different meaning that hearing it- especially in such a soft voice- was gutting you.
“What? Why would you say that?”
“Let’s go back to the dorm, it’s getting late.”
“Stop!” You flinched, eyes flying wide as he yelled at you. You opened and closed your mouth, unsure what to say. “Tell me.”
“I…”
Taehyung was in front of you. His hands were wringing, and his eyes wouldn’t stop searching your expression, brows pinched. He was upset. His teeth worried his bottom lip, a sure sign that he was getting emotional.
You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to make Taehyung cry by pushing him away again. But if you told him, you’d be pushing him away anyway. “What did I do to you?” Taehyung asked, his voice thick.
You broke. The crack in his voice, the honest belief that he had done something wrong to you.
“I’m in love with you,” You whispered, voice barely audible above the dull roar in your ears. “And I don’t know what to do about it, because I don’t think you feel that way about me. Being with you the last week or so has only solidified that. And I’m sorry if-"
“Fuck, Swan.”
“I know,” you rushed out, trying to beat him to it. You stared at your feet, fingers tangled in the hem of your shirt. You felt like you were shrinking, shoulders turn inwards as you tried to make yourself smaller in the light of the massive confession. “I’m sorry if this ruins things, I didn’t want to tell you and I understand you don’t-“
By refusing to meet Taehyung’s eyes, you missed the way he smiled at you. You missed how he stopped fidgeting, and the way he surged forward to grip your face clumsily and smash his lips against yours. You gasped, eyes snapping up as Taehyung pressed his lips firmly against yours. He pulled away briefly, eyes half-lidded as he looked down at you. “Was that all?”
“Yes? What-“
“Stop talking, fuck,” Taehyung muttered, brushing his lips against yours again.
This time, you let your eyes flutter closed, arms still hanging at your side as his mouth moved tentatively against yours, a little unpracticed and a little messy. Your face heated, warmth spreading through your neck to your chest. You pushed into him, smiling into the kiss as he gave a soft, unsure prod at the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You’d kissed boys, but nothing felt like this. This tasted like the chocolate still sweet on Taehyung’s tongue as he deepened the kiss into a messy exchange, inexperienced and a little too wet. It didn’t matter. You were buzzing, humming with delight as his fingers pressed your face softly, angling you so that your foreheads pressed firmly against one another.
With a sudden thought, you pulled away from him, gasping for air. “Wait,” you panted. “Do you even like me?”
His sweet, warm breath ghosted across your face as he laughed, hands dropping from your face to your waist, pulling you in. “I love you the moment you gave me that paper swan.”
“Paper crane.”
His smile was radiant. You swore the sun pulled back up from the horizon, shinning once more as Apollo pulled his chariot across the sky in honor of Taehyung’s smile. “Your right,” Taehyung amended. “You’re my only swan.”
-
“Am I supposed to have a lawyer look over this?” You whispered to Taehyung, flipping the pages of a newly drafted NDA.
Taehyung flopped on the couch next to you, casting an arm around you as he pressed against your side, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder. You shivered and your stomach flipped, face going red as you smirked at the various clauses, legal terms and language that went over your head. He stayed nestled to your side, dark eyes flicking over the printed pages
“What for?”
“What if your company sues me?”
That made him laugh. You shot him a look and he pressed his lips together in an effort to cease his laughter. You tried not to grin as your eyes slid back to the pages. “Why would they sue you? You’re my girlfriend.”
You couldn’t fight the grin that time, biting your lip as the term washed over you. Girlfriend. It was a new title, only two days old, but it didn’t fail to make you giddy all over again. “What?” Taehyung teased, leaning further into you to brush his lips across your jaw. You giggled and tried to push him away. “You like it when I call you that, Swan?”
“No.”
“Ugh, my girlfriend is a liar.”
“Shut up.”
He wrapped his arms around your waist, warmth spreading from his body to yours. Despite your words, you leaned into him, content. “I’m just saying,” you sighed. “I don’t know what any of this means.”
“It’ll be fine,” he promised. “My company would never hurt you. Plus, it’s just temporary. The no girlfriend thing is only for the first three years.”
“Three years, huh? You’re pretty serious about this relationship.”
“I’m serious about you.”
You turned to face him, pressing a quick, shy kiss to his cheek. His smile broadened. “I’m serious about us. About this,” Taehyung murmured, grip constricting. “Them hurting you would be hurting me. I would never let them do that.”
“Promise?”
He nodded, tucking his chin at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “Promise.”
-
An ache settled in your neck as you adjusted the purse strap on your shoulder, bag weighing you down. Several text books and a laptop were shoved inside, nearly toppling you over as the subway shifted. You clung to the pole for balance, looking at the handprints of others and making a face, reminding yourself to sanitize your hands as soon as you stepped off.
The buzz of your phone drew your free hand to your pocket, fishing the device out before smiling softly, seeing Taehyung’s name light up on the screen- at least, the name you kept in your phone for him. You weren’t allowed to put his full name on your phone or anything that suggested his identity.
Section A. Clause IV
Member may not have their name, aliases, images, likeness or any content whether digital or physical and/ or material as described in Exhibit E. used in any way to indicate that the Signer is associated with the Member professionally, personally or in any other capacity.
You swiped the message open, heart thrumming.
T: Out of class yet?
You: Yeah, I’m on my way back to my apartment.
T: Text me when you get there safely.
You: Always. Love you.
T: Love you, Swan.
A soft, melancholy note sang through your heart as you wedged the phone back in the pocket of your jeans. You missed Taehyung. You lived in the same city, but you lived vastly different lives. Though he was only fifteen minutes away from you- a massive upgrade from the original distance- you were finishing up school with a degree in marketing and media, struggling to get through your final semester while balancing an internship at a multi-media company and school.
And seeing Taehyung in very small bursts.
Things were good, though. The end of the dating ban was rapidly approaching a giant red circle on your calendar and your heart. You had done well for three years- really well, considering that Taehyung could barely move around the city without being recognized.
You had always known something big was going to happen to him. But big seemed an inferior word for the way that Taehyung’s life was changing and by default, yours.
Blisters hounded you all the way down the sidewalk and into the lobby of your apartment building. It wasn’t like the new apartment the boys had, with updated room accommodations and a higher level of security in the lobby, but it was clean, relatively new, and most importantly, it was affordable.
You bowed your head at the security guard working in his small office as you entered the stairway for residents, rushing up to the third floor. The bag weighed you down further, making you gasp for air as you fished out your keys, nearly tumbling through the door and into the messy hallway filled with shoes, a hook filled with hanging backs, and a broken umbrella.
You smiled slightly as you looked at the umbrella while kicking off your shoes. Taehyung had unceremoniously broken it when he fell on it drunkenly after celebrating your anniversary over a year ago.
Dropping your bags onto the floor with a loud thud, you made your way into the small apartment, vaguely realizing that it smelled like one of your candles was on. Entering the living room, you’re convinced you were going to discover you left a candle burning but instead, you found Taehyung sitting on the couch, the candles on your side table burning while he grinned at you, eyes like crescent moons.
There were to-go containers on the coffee table, which often doubled as your dinner table. He was in sweat pants and a t-shirt that was too large for him, but you didn’t care. You rushed him, jumping onto the couch to straddle him as you threw your arms around his neck, crushing him to you in a tight hug. His laugh was deep and soft as he hugged you back, leaning into the back of the couch with you.
“I know you’ve been tired,” he murmured pressing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “So I got your favorite.”
“I thought you had practice tonight?” You pulled away slightly, sitting in his lap happily. You threaded your fingers in his soft hair at the base of his neck, twisting the strands as you looked down at him. Overwhelmed by the petal-pink lips and soft gaze, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his once. Twice.
He became soft around the edges as he smiled at you, dulled by your warm love. “I did some begging.”
“For me?”
“Always for you, Swan.” He tapped your butt lightly. “Come on, it’s going to get cold.”
With another quick kiss, you rolled off of his lap, adjusting yourself on the couch as the two of you worked open the tops of the containers. The movements were methodical, passing chop sticks and emptying cartons of food onto paper plates. Taehyung grabbed a sauce packet, ripping it open with his teeth to squeeze it over his chicken while you gave him the larger portions of dumplings.
It was a routine that felt normal. Like it happened every night. You knew Taehyung inside and out. You knew the way he liked to lay in his bed and listen to jazz music, playing an invisible trumpet at his favorite parts. You knew that right before he cried, he pouted his bottom lip, eyes rounding before the tears formed. You knew that he had a large collection of stuffed animals that you studiously ignored the first time you had sex in his cramped dorm room- an awkward but sweet memory.
So it was easy to sit on the couch and move around one another, two moons orbiting the same planet. He told you about work. It didn’t matter how many times he complained about dance practice or how excited he got about a new music video. You absorbed every one of his experiences, a sponge with no capacity to get full.
Hearing the rise and fall of his voice as he recounted his day made you happy. Watching his hands as he explained animatedly was important to you. And you smiled when he complained about his bandmates before relenting and admitting he wasn’t really annoyed because they mean the world to him. They’re his best friends. His brothers.
All of his stories and experiences were everything to you. Because when it’s hard and there was space between you, you reminded yourself that Taehyung was living a rare, delicate dream. That at any moment, people could decide that the BTS fad was over.
Taehyung’s success was worth it. His happiness was worth it.
Shoving the empty takeout containers in the trash, you straightened to see Taehyung eyeing you. Even after almost three years- with a rapidly approaching anniversary- you got nervous when he looked at you like that. Dark eyes drifting up and down your frame, perfect mouth curved gently upwards.
No one had a gaze like Taehyung, and the full weight of it on you made you straighten, staring back at him with flushed cheeks and a thrumming heart. “What?” you demanded, feigning irritation to hide the nervousness. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No,” he murmured. He leaned against the counter, aloof as ever. You remembered thinking he was so cool in middle school, leaning on doorways and on desks. He always looked like he was on the verge of smirking, like he knew something you didn’t. “I’m just admiring my girlfriend.”
“She must look elegant in work clothes, day-long makeup and greasy hair.”
“She looks beautiful at every moment of the day.” His answer was immediate, rolling out before you could finish your sentence. His eyes shone in the dim kitchen lighting. “She doesn’t realize how absolutely stunning she is at every hour and every minute, and that I am hopelessly falling in love with her over and over again.”
You swallowed. Taehyung was like that. Boyish and goofy one moment, serious and breathtaking the next. Sometimes you wondered if he looked up how to compliment you online. It came so effortlessly to him like many other things. But you knew it wasn’t some attempt at flattery- it was honesty.
Taehyung was the most honest, loving person you knew. He didn’t hesitate to tell you he loved you after that first moment when you were seventeen and struggling to tell him your feelings. After realizing that you had been harboring feelings for him for years, Taehyung had made it a mission to ensure you that you knew were you stood. That you never doubted him.
For you, Taehyung wore his heart on his sleeve.
“Come here,” he ordered softly, not moving from the counter.
Automatically your feet carried you to him. Your hands acted out of instinct, reaching for Taehyung before you reached him. He laced his fingers with yours, artful fingers gripping your smaller hands tight as he tanked you to him faster. You stumbled into his chest, joined hands gripped tight at your sides as he dipped his head down to press his forehead against yours.
“I love you.”
“I know,” you whispered, looking up at him. He was so achingly beautiful.
“Is that a Star Wars reference?”
You smiled as you stood up on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. It was just a brush of lips, Taehyung giving chase the moment you pulled away to kiss you fully, lips lingering before you murmured against his mouth, “Perhaps.”
“Come to bed with me, Princess Leia.”
“Technically it’s Han who says-"
Taehyung made a sound of irritation that isn’t genuine. It was more a sound of humor as he let go of your hands to grab your hips, pulling you flush against his waist. He kissed you fully, lips parting yours gently, his tongue warm and seeking.
Fire licked through you as you kissed him fiercely back, exploring the taste of him. He still faintly tasted like the honey sauce from his chicken, but mostly he tasted like Taehyung. Like the love of your life.
With careful hands, Taehyung led you backwards toward your tiny bedroom. You were fortunate that your room was separate from the rest of your apartment at all. Your hands clung to his flexing biceps as he led you in a dance through the dark, kiss turning from firm to feral, licking and biting at your mouth in a way that ignited every nerve, sending sparking signals to your brain.
You fell more than laid on your bed, letting out a loud oof as Taehyung fell on top of you. His laugh was deep as it rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you. He placed sloppy kisses on your cheek, trailing to your jaw as he shifted his weight, lifting himself up with his forearms.
“Sorry,” he breathed, words warm against your ears. You shivered, arms snaking around his neck to bring him closer, knees squeezing his hips as he pressed down against you. He was already growing hard from a bit of kissing, always eager to have you, always hungry for you at any moment. “Didn’t mean to crush you.”
“Don’t care,” you gasped as his teeth nipped your earlobe. You felt like you were catching fire, glowing like the edges of a heated knife. “Crush me all you want.”
“That’s a new one.”
It was hard to listen to his banter while he shifted, coming to his knees between your legs. He broke away from you, hands roaming under the hem of your shirt, rough pads of his fingers drifting across the planes of your stomach and fleshy hips. You wiggled, whining under his reverent touch.
Taehyung smirked. He knew how just soft touches on your skin lit you up. You could already feel your panties dampening, growing slick with the desire pulled out of you with just his hands.
“What, baby?”
“Touch me,” you asked.
“I am touching you.”
“Don’t be a little shit.”
His laughter was full as he pulled at the hem of your shirt. You leaned forward, letting him take the silk blouse off. Your bra was boring and nondescript, but Taehyung didn’t care. He dove forward, sucking blooming purple and red splotches into your neck, drawing out a loud moan from you. His teeth plucked at every sensitive spot on the delicate skin of your throat, hot tongue laving over to sooth the bites.
With your eyes closed, you let yourself drift in the feeling of his hot mouth making its way to your collarbones. He was careful not to damage the skin on your throat- hickies were a strict no among the two of you. He didn’t want you to feel insecure at work and you… weren’t allowed to mark Taehyung in any way that suggested he was partaking in sexual activity.
Section B, Clause III.
Member shall not receive any marks such as but not limited to: hickies, scratches, bruises, bite marks, lipstick stains, and any other additional marking or scarring as descripted in Exhibit D that suggests sexual activity or any additional personal or physical relationships.
You shoved away the legal language that ran around your mind like a phantom, but you were careful to bring your nails back up to Taehyung’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp instead of his neck.
“Still have such trouble telling me what you want me to do with you,” Taehyung groaned, rolling his hips into yours. Even through dress pants, you could feel his hard dick. It made you breath out a soft moan, fixating on the way he licked the skin on the top of your breasts, nipping lightly above the cup of your bra. “Swan?”
“Taehyung, if you don’t take my bra off and worship my fucking tits, I swear-“
“Mmmm,” he hummed, delighted as he pulled the cup of your bra down, quick to wrap his smoldering mouth around a nipple. You keened, arching up into him as his long licked the pert bud. He continued to hum, satisfied as his tongue circled lazily, ending his ministration with a soft bite, making you squeal. “Was that so hard to ask for?”
“Apparently. My bra is still on.”
With a growl, Taehyung appeased you. His fingers expertly undid the bra, tossing it somewhere in the room as he pressed your boobs together, hungry mouth lavishing them. You moaned loudly, losing yourself in the way he licked and bit at your skin, as though he could devour you whole.
You’d let him. Taehyung could consume your soul and you’d thank him from your knees.
Your greedy hands pulled at his shirt, yanking it over his head. Careful not to use teeth or suck faint marks into his skin, you kissed the hard planes of his chest, more open mouth than anything. He shivered under your touch, casting his head back as you teased his nipple with your tongue, giggling as you dipped your hand below the waistband of his sweat pants, a south of surprise leaving you when your fingers danced delicately up his shaft.
“No panties?” You teased as he buried his face in your neck, peppering you with kisses once more.
“I don’t wear panties,” he panted. You wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock, giving him a few soft, slow strokes. His hips twitched, smacking into yours as he shuddered. “Unless you’re into that.”
“Could be hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmmm. They make lingerie for men, you know? Red, lacy ones.”
“Fuck,” Taehyung whispered as you picked up your pace a bit, squeezing his cock as you reached the head. Taehyung moved like lighting, sitting up, your hand falling from his pants. “Take these off of me and stroke me proper, baby.”
You worked quickly to get him out of his pants. Taehyung kicked them off somewhere, pausing only to rid you of your pants, nearly ripping your underwear off of your legs as he tore at them.
He was on his knees next to you, cock bobbing against his stomach. You moaned deep in your throat at the sight. Much like the rest of him, it was beautiful. Taehyung’s cock was long and thick, angry tip swollen from your teasing and begging for attention as your hand returned to stroking him lightly, gathering the precum leaking from the tip to spread it down the rest of him.
Taehyung sounded beautiful when he moaned. It was deep and throaty, like he couldn’t control the sound as he escaped him. You leaned upwards, dipping the tip of his cock down toward your mouth as you gave a kitten lick to the tip, making his hips buck again.
“Fucking tease,” he grunted. He leaned down, fingers running up your thigh before taking a chaste dip between your legs, earning a surprised sound from you as his fingers brushed up your slit, another groan leaving his mouth. “So fucking wet. Does teasing my cock make you drip, baby?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, head falling back on the bed as he applied the barest pressure to your clit. A teasing motion. Not enough friction to do much, but enough to make you squirm. “Taaaaae.”
Your moan was quiet, careful not to make too much noise. You had neighbors, and that mattered under Section A. Clause IV.
Taehyung took your hand from working his cock and he laid on the bed, patting his chest as he looked at you with blown out eyes. “Come here, wanna eat you out while you suck me off.”
“What are we, seventeen?”
He grinned. You moved toward him despite your protest. “We’re more skilled than we were when we were seventeen,” he promised, hands kneading the meat of your ass as you carefully placed your dripping heat near his face. You lowered yourself even more carefully, licking at his cockhead again. “Plus, I really want to make a mess of this pretty pussy but your mouth feels so fucking good.”
You had no more protests. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable position, but any doubt died in your throat as Taehyung ran the tip of his tongue teased your pussy, barely running up your slit and flicking over your clit. Your head collapsed on his leg for a minute, hand stilling on the base of his cock as you got distracted, his tongue giving you a firm, fat swipe up the center.
“Fuuuuck,” you whispered, clenching around nothing.
He smacked your ass lightly, startling you. “I’m not doing more until you return the favor, Swan.”
“Sorry.”
Taehyung startled you with another broad, but quick lick. “Mmm never sorry.”
With a deep moan, you carefully took the tip of Taehyung’s cock in your mouth, running your tongue around the swollen head. He hummed into your pussy, following on his promise as he licked slowly up and down, tongue dipping slightly into your entrance before flicking back up to circle your clit.
Taehyung’s tongue was lethal, making you dizzy as you spit on his cock, leisurely pumping him until he was slick enough to take into your mouth. He groaned into your pussy, vibrations making your hips twitch. You focused on sucking him at a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue so that it scraped underneath his cock with each delicious drag of your mouth.
The sound of Taehyung grunting spurred you further. He attached his sinful lips to your clit, sucking harshly. You gasped, dropping his cock from your mouth as you threw your head back, eyes fluttering. You felt him grin against your slick core, mouth devouring you with renewed heat.
“Fuck,” Taehyung mumbled between licks. “I love this fucking pussy.”
“Please don’t stop.”
“Hmm I don’t know. I seem to be distracting you.”
“I’ll show you distracted,” you muttered.
Without warning, you took Taehyung in your mouth, swallowing him down your throat. The cursing between your legs and the feeling of his fingers digging painfully into your thighs made you grin around a mouthful of his cock. You bobbed your head at a set pace, breathing carefully through your nose. Drool slipped from your mouth, making his dick shine in the dim light with spit and cum.
Though his hips were bucking up slightly into your mouth, cock kissing the back of your throat every time you slid down his length, Taehyung was only distracted for a moment before he went back to licking and sucking your pussy until you were whimpering and squirming above him.
A soft burn coiled in your stomach, mounting as he used his hands to roll your hips back and forth across his tongue. He gave you a particularly harsh suck, making you groan, dropping his cock from your mouth again, hand pumping up and down, twisting at the top.
Taehyung pat your ass, “Enough for me, ride my face.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m going to cum straight down your fucking throat if you don’t stop,” he mumbled. His tongue prodded your entrance again, making you shiver as you released your hold on his throbbing cock. You kneeled over him properly, thighs shaking on either side of his head. “That’s my girl. Want you to cum all over my tongue before you cum on my cock, Swan.”
You could barely breath, eyes squeezed shut as your hips bucked back and forth, Taehyung’s strong hands guiding you as his tongue continued to languidly lap at your folds. If there was one thing you knew about Taehyung for sure in the bedroom, it was that he got off on getting you off. His hips twitched as you began to pant, doubling over and burying your face in his thigh as the tightly wound feeling in your stomach shot like and arrow upward.
Glass shattered. You came with a scream, doing the best you could not to sink your teeth into the meat of his thigh as you ripped at the sheets with the force of your orgasm. Taehyung licked you gently through it, careful not to overstimulate you as his tongue danced along your pussy.
Gently, he separated his mouth from you, giving you a brief kiss on your clit. You laughed breathlessly, trying to regain a sense of self as you blinked the stars from your eyes. Taehyung was careful with you, untangling your limbs and settling you on the sheets until he was hovering over you, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and his lips guiding you in a slow, messy kiss.
Taehyung rolled his hips into yours, wetting his cock with your cum as he did.
“Please,” you murmured. “Please.”
“Yeah? Need to be fucked full, baby?”
“Yes.”
Taehyung hummed, pressing his nose against yours. One hand vanished from beside your head as he gripped his cock at it’s based, guiding himself to your core. Your moan was breathy as he pushed in, barely breaching your entrance, making you whine. You could feel more than see his grin as he laughed, hot breath fanning your face.
“So greedy.”
“Why are you making me beg? I asked so nicely.”
Taehyung licked your mouth. “Mmm. I guess you did.”
With a single movement, Taehyung pushed his cock all the way in, bottoming out and staying there. You both moaned in unison, breath mingling as he kissed you, all tongue and teeth. You squeezed his hips gently, careful not to use your nails per Section B. Claus III. He got the hint, slowly rolling his hips as easily as the waves on the beach during the summer.
You got lost in him immediately. His skin was hot, pressed against yours and burning burning burning. Everything felt heated, your muscles going lax as you rolled your hips upward, meeting him stroke for stroke. Taehyung murmured your name as his cock slid into the deepest parts of you, in no hurry to rush you to your next peak.
Taehyung’s lips were loving. They made a map of his heart on your face, your neck, your shoulders. Anywhere he could kiss, he attached his mouth, willing his love into you with his tongue and teeth, and the steady but firm thrust of his hips.
Fingers tangled in his hair, you scratched his scalp lightly. Breathless, moaning his name and begging him. For what, you weren’t sure. It felt like too much and not enough all at once, your nerves a livewire.
Everything was Taehyung. The feeling of his cock brushing against your g-spot and making you jerk forward, clenching viciously around him. Your name vibrated from his mouth, passing from him to you. Whispered. Moaned. Prayed. Every time your name dropped from his lips, you swear you feel divinity.
“Fuck,” Taehyung gasped, picking up speed. “I love you so fucking much. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Please,” You whispered. That word again. Begging him for what, you’re not entirely sure. “I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”
Taehyung lifts himself off you slightly, adjusting so that he can fuck into you faster. His stroke shifts from passionate to hungry, chasing after your orgasm, hand running down your side to stop at the top of your pussy, thumb brushing against your clit. You mewled under him, thrashing at the stimulation, earning dark laughter.
“Yeah, Swan? Gonna fuck you until you cream, baby.”
Dirty talk was a recent addition to the bedroom. Taehyung had tentatively tried it when you were still learning the language of one another’s bodies. You had to admit you liked it. Hearing the way he growled filthy words at you, living up to his promise to fuck into you until you were mounting toward your high again, screaming as he fucked you off the cliff and into a moment of white light.
You felt everything go tight. You squeezed your eyes shut, heels digging into the bed, hands gripping the bed. For a moment, it was like you couldn’t breath, soaring in bliss.
A gasp of air rushed into your lungs, bringing you back down as you sagged. Taehyung had slowed his pace, shaking above you, your orgasm threatening to kickstart his. You could feel the way he was trembling, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he struggled to ensure your orgasm lived a full life before giving into his.
“Cum for me,” you rasped, wincing as you moved your sore thighs. You thrusted into him, body tired and humming after your orgasm, but determined to reward. “Give it to me, Taehyung.”
A feral string of curses left his lips as he fastened his hands to your hips, picking his pace back up until he was slamming into you, fucking you into the mattress with wild abandoned. You squeezed him, pulled him closer, begged him to cum until he let out a loud moan, face collapsing into your neck as his hips stuttered. You brushed your fingers along his back as he came, pressed kisses against his ear as you whispered his name.
After a few moments of thundering hearts, stilted breaths and the smell of sweat, Taehyung pulled out of you, falling to the side. You brushed the hair sticking to his brow, revealing his flushed face. He looked at you and your heart stopped dead before beating wildly like the beat of a war drum.
Taehyung looked beautiful, even after sex when he was sweaty and red and flushed tip to nose. He smiled at you, pulling you close and pressing his face against your shoulder where he kissed you once.
“Love you, Swan.”
-
Taehyung was late. While it wasn’t unusual for him to fall behind on schedule because of practices and shoots that ran over the allotted time, it was unusual for him not to text you.
Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you flashed your phone toward you again. Nothing. It was already late evening and you were beginning to think the takeout you ordered was going to go cold. It was currently in the microwave for safe keeping, but it wouldn’t stay that way forever.
The fight between wanting to text him and ask him where he was and wanting to give him space while he worked was one you were familiar with. Straddling the line between being the annoying girlfriend who was constantly waiting for him to finish work and being the concerned girlfriend when he was overworked was difficult.
There was no one to help you. Taehyung was the only member with a girlfriend, from what you understood- though Section F. Claus X specifically prohibited you from speaking to anyone related to Taehyung about your relationship.
Section F. Claus X
Party shall not speak to, interact with or fraternize with Members friends, relatives, associates, coworkers, or staff members associated with Members corporation. Party acknowledges that any communication with other individuals associated with Member or other Members as outlined in Appendix J is a breach of the nondisclosure agreement.
It was difficult not having a resource for this kind of pressure. Taehyung wouldn’t understand what it was like to constantly doubt if it was okay to ask him how long he would be. He didn’t know how much you wanted to express that you cared about him overworking himself without sounding like you were chastising him.
Taehyung hated being chastised. You limited your reprimands to relationship-specific topics. Never about his relationships with his bandmates. Never about work. Never about the schedule. Or cancelling movie nights, or not seeing you for two weeks at time. Those were topics best left to heal with time and silence.
So you waited. Waited until it was definitely boarding on too late to comfortably eat takeout. Unfolding yourself from the couch, you walked toward the kitchen. The urge to cry was stuck in your throat. It wasn’t an anniversary dinner- that had been two days ago. It had been wonderful, and full of love, and Taehyung had been careful about selecting the gift he got you. Just as carefully as the necklace you got him: a gold chain with a single paper crane.
You didn’t make Taehyung cry often. But he did cry when you gifted him the crane.
The necklace was safe. Discreet. No one could look at it and think, I bet a woman gifted him that. I bet you anything he has a girlfriend that he just celebrated a three-year anniversary with.
Section. G. Claus I
Member shall not wear anything or visibly display materials or items associated with the Party at any time under any circumstance. Items such as gifts, belongings, or shared possessions must be unidentifiable and gender-neutral items. Materials and items that suggest a personal or sexual relationship are strictly prohibited.
The crane was a good, safe gift. And it had come accompanied with the rare, red cranes that were special for you two. Only five of them existed: the first one you gave Taehyung at school, the second when he left to become a trainee in Seoul, and the next three for each annual anniversary together.
Red paper cranes for your red paper heart, tearing at the seams as you put the food in the fridge. There was a red crane sitting on the counter, waiting for Taehyung to get him. It was number six-hundred and seventy-four. You knew every crane you folded him. You counted.
By the time Taehyung came to your apartment- you couldn’t say come home because this wasn’t home for him- it was three hours past your agreed time. You had shoved the boxes in the fridge and showered, giving up on the over-thought and over-done outfit you had worn for him.
It wasn’t an anniversary, but it was a sort of anniversary.
It was three years since you signed that infernal NDA. Three years of living by Sections and Clauses and Appendixes and Definitions. Three years of Member and Party relationships and legal definitions. His dating ban was over.
The sound of Taehyung shuffling into your apartment startled you. Lifting your head from the couch, you blinked up at him, the light of the tv casting a blue fade to the world around you. He kicked his shoes off and trudged over, pausing to put a leather folder on the table. You faintly recognized it as the fancy folders used at the label.
“Hi,” Taehyung murmured. He tossed his backpack by the island counter top. So he was staying the night. That made you smile, momentarily forgetting that he missed your little NDA-is-over party. “Sorry I’m so late.”
“S’okay. Did practice go late?”
Taehyung crawled onto the couch, careful not to knee you. You opened your arms and he slumped into your chest, arms flat by his side as he laid his cheek against the base of your throat. He hummed, non-comital. You could feel his lashes flutter shut.
Carefully, you carded your fingers through his hair. The silky strands were recently bleached, the newly blonde hair a stark contrast to his dark eyes. It looked good on him. Taehyung had one of those faces that made anything stand out. His hair had been a variety of colors so far, each one as beautiful as the last.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. You venture on the path of least resistance. If you asked him about what’s bothering him first, you can hedge the issue of being late and missing your plans. He misses plans a lot- and usually that’s okay. But today was supposed to be your last night in. The final time you had to hide. “Tae?”
He hummed. “Who said anything is wrong?”
You snorted, stopping the movement of your fingers through his hair. “I’ve known you since we were kids and I’ve loved you for nearly as long. I know when something is wrong.” He shrugs again. It pinches a nerve slightly and you tug on the strands, adding, “And you missed a really important date. We were supposed to be celebrating.”
A heavy sigh followed by silence. You waited, expecting an apology or something else. Anything else. Silence was worse, and anxiety started to eat away at you. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why didn’t he care that he missed this anniversary? You guys had been talking about it non-stop, talking about all of the things that you wanted to do when you could be in public. When he could take you to all the places he had been. When he could hold your hand.
“Taehyung.”
“I know today was important,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
“Is something going on at work? Are you fighting with Jimin again?”
“No.”
“Okay… are you homesick? We can maybe visit-“
“That’s not it,” Taehyung snapped, shifting slightly. You blinked in surprised. It was rare for him to sound terse. Taehyung was an emotional man, but he was rarely angry. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“Can you just tell me what’s wrong? I just… I want to help.”
For a few moments, Taehyung remained silent. Just when you thought that he wasn’t going to answer, that he was going to leave you hanging, he murmured, “You have to sign a new nondisclosure. It’s on the counter.”
It was like watching a car accident in slow motion. For a moment, the world was still and normal. You were moving through life, doing something simple, an every day action. Then the horror started to seep in, the panic that you were veering off track. Blind-sided, fumbling to keep up as reality shattered from what it was into a bunch of pieces of potentials. Of unknowns.
Your fingers were tight in his hair as your lip trembles. You didn’t know what to say. What was there to say. First there was desperation. Then a hot flash of anger, heart pounding so loud that you almost pushed him off of you to storm into your room. The anger was cooled in a flash, doused by acceptance. Irritated understanding.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
Hesitation. You licked your lips and your eyes drifted to the leather folder on the counter. It made sense, now. He had brought the papers with him. They didn’t expect you to need a lawyer- you were devoted to Taehyung. They knew it. You knew it. You’d sign the papers, just like you did the first time.
Further your eyes drifted, resting on the red paper crane. “Okay,” you whispered, a tear running hot town your cheek as you stared at the crane, its image becoming watery with want. “I’ll sign it.”
-
“Are you okay, Swan?” Jungkook’s voice sounds like it’s coming through a tin can on the phone as you smashed your cell between your shoulder and face. “We haven’t seen you in almost a month and hyung said he hasn’t gotten to see you in almost three weeks.”
“Section F. Claus X, Kookie.” You glanced around the train station, ensuring that no one heard you. No one seemed to care about the girl struggling with a huge box filled with video games that you were taking to donate on your job’s behalf. “No fraternizing-“
“Fuck your nondisclosure. I’m calling to see if my friend is okay because I miss her and her boyfriend has bags under his eyes.”
Your mouth tightened. Were you okay? You had your health and your family was doing well. You worked in the marketing department for a gaming company that you adored- and that your boyfriend and his friends adored your access to.
But BTS had done something new. They exploded on American charts. They were growing at a rate that was making you dizzy- unlike anything you could ever imagine. And Taehyung was preparing for a tour overseas that would take him further away from you. Even living almost down the street, he felt fucking further than ever.
“Yeah,” you croaked into the phone, mentally cursing at the way your voice cracked. You cried more these days, but never in front of Taehyung. Never where he could see that the implemented distance, the love only held behind doors and the crumbs he was forced to give you were tearing you apart. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You’re a shitty liar.”
“Look, sweetie,” you sighed, opting to not use his nickname in a public space again. “I’m fine. I’m stressed at work, and you guys are busy. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Okay.” Jungkook sounded unsure. “I’ll see you soon, hopefully?”
“Yeah, yeah. You will.”
Hanging up the phone, you felt guilty. Lying to Jungkook wasn’t something you did often. For the sake of Section F. Claus X, you did.
-
“You’d be okay with five kids, right?” Taehyung’s question drew your attention away from the television. He was half buried in the obnoxious amount of blankets on the bed. His hair was back to dark, the hair longer in the back. Your fingers paused their exploration of his almost mullet, twisting the strands. “I still want five.”
You angled your brows. “What about watching Attack on Titan in bed while you rot your teeth with candy sparked this conversation? Was it the giant monkey titan slaughtering the scouts?”
“Beast titan,” he corrected with a soft smile. He wasn’t looking at you, but his eyes were intense as the shadows of the tv danced across his face, ripping into another piece of candy. “I don’t know, laying here with you doing things that we like made me think about it. I know you agreed before, but I wondered if you changed your mind.”
“Not really. I don’t have siblings- I think I would like my kids to have some.”
He nodded, nuzzling your wrist. You rolled your eyes, stroking the hair at the base of his neck again, almost making him purr. “Good. I would compromise for you, but it’s good to know we still agree on our future.”
The words were on the tip of your tongue but you refused to let them loose. The future for you and Taehyung wasn’t very clear. You were nearing the end of the two-year nondisclosure, the memory still hot in your mind of the night you had to sign it.
A simmering anxiety settled over you as the termination date grew closer. You weren’t supposed to sign another one, but with how big the group had become, something deep inside your gut was warning you. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t let them full you.
The thoughts turned your mood sour. You pulled your hand from Taehyung, murmuring that you were tired. Rolling over on your side, you settled further into the blankets. You were safe there. No rules, no clauses, no sections. At least, not while you weren’t having sex. There were still technically plenty of ways you could breach contract next to Taehyung.
Moving the bowl of popcorn from in between you, Taehyung laid on his side, pulling your back to his chest. You didn’t have to ask- you can tell he knew something is wrong. Instead of pressing you on the matter, he kissed the back of your head, tightening his arms around you.
You sniffle. “You shouldn’t eat candy before bed.”
His laugh shakes through you. “I love you, Swan.”
“I love you too.”
-
Taehyung had been crying. You could tell the second you walk into your apartment. You had been dreading getting home all day. Taehyung’s silence throughout the day was an omen to the folder sitting on your counter when you walked in the door.
Quick to his feet, Taehyung began to walk to you, an apology on his lips and silver tears in his eyes. You brushed it off, pulling open the drawer in the kitchen to find a pen without a cap. You flipped to the last page- the packet was thicker than before, but it doesn’t matter. With a neat scribble, you signed your name on the line and dated it.
“I’m going to shower,” you murmured.
You began to walk toward your room before back tracking and fishing around your purse. Taehyung watched, wordless and haunted. You produced a crumpled, but intact paper crane. You didn’t bother with the red paper. This crane is your seven-hundred and twelfth. Wordlessly, you walked to Taehyung, pulling his hand to you and placing the bird in his large palm before walking into your room, shutting the bathroom door behind you.
-
Your mouth was hot against Taehyung’s as you pinned him to the couch, hips grinding down on his. He groaned, hands exploring underneath your dress, gripping the flesh of your ass. The kiss was all spit and teeth and tastes subtly of wine, the room spinning. You couldn’t get enough of him, pulling him closer and biting his lip playfully, earning a sharp smack on your ass.
“I love you,” he growled, fingers tracing on over your thigh between your legs. He pressed against your damp underwear, making you whine. “And this wet fucking pussy.”
“Yeah?” You kissed down his neck, mindful of your teeth. Always mindful, even drunk. “I’m gonna fuck you with this wet fucking pussy until you’re fucked stupid, birthday boy.”
“Fuck, take your clothes of, Swan.”
You obeyed him, leaning up and tossing your dress, careful not to disturb the eight-hundred and eighty-eighth crane on the coffee table.
-
The time difference between Seoul and Las Vegas was fucking brutal. You were trying not to fall asleep, smiling into the phone as Taehyung showed off his outfit, showing himself off in the mirror. You bit your lip, wishing you were there. He looked delicious, heart and a variety of other parts of you craving him.
Having him far was painful. Not being able to go with him was just an added sting.
I asked if you could go.
They said no.
Yeah. I’m sorry, Swan. They said no.
“You look fucking perfect,” you murmured, yawning. “Go win that Grammy, yeah? You deserve it. I’ll be watching, okay?”
“Go to bed, Swan.” He laughed, flipping the camera back to himself. He really did look beautiful, the violet suit making his tawny skin glow. You don’t mind that the contacts lightened his eyes, but you always preferred the dark, mysterious gaze of the man you loved.
“Not a chance,” you yawned. “I’m going to watch the love of my life win a Grammy.”
-
They didn’t win the Grammy. You struggled through the teary phone call. Hearing Taehyung disappointed and fractured was difficult. Hearing him upset when you were swallowing down a rage so hot it nearly burned you was harder.
The entire time you listened to his soft voice on the other line, you stared at the screen. The Korean media were going apeshit for Taehyung’s flirty performance with Olivia Rodrigo.
You didn’t care about that. You didn’t give a single fuck what the media thought. Taehyung had been dating you for eight years. He wasn’t going to randomly date someone else- someone far younger, at that.
It wasn’t jealousy you felt. It wasn’t the green-eyed monster poisoning every thought, digging up repressed anxiety, repressed feelings. It was the fucking audacity of the company. The fucking balls they must have had to decide that it was okay for dating rumors if it was Olivia Rodrigo.
The internet was a mess. Every fan account, every space was exploding with theories, with people wondering if Taehyung was dating the singer. Rumors. Assumptions. Theories. He was allowed to be sexual on camera. He was allowed to flirt in the public eye. He was allowed to be suggestive.
As long as it wasn’t with you.
Because Taehyung being rumored to date a Grammy-nominated- now Grammy-winning performer was more desirable than Taehyung being rumored to date his childhood friend. It was better than Taehyung possibly dating a no one. From nowhere.
From nothing.
-
Going to Taehyung’s apartment was a rare luxury for you. You knew it was because he heard it in your voice when he landed. He invited you over immediately. You had to follow specific instructions- had to obey certain laws mandated by your millionth NDA- or at least what felt like it.
Pouring rain made it easier to enter the apartment building through its private, back entrance. Though Taehyung lived alone now- a deep wound that you were still nursing after being denied the right to live with him for over two years- you were surprised to find him by himself in the apartment. Even after trips, Jungkook and Jimin liked to cling to Taehyung as though the trip wouldn’t end.
Candles were burning in the home. They smelled like smoked vanilla, a favorite. Kicking your shoes off at the front door, you wandered through the vaguely familiar home. It wasn’t your home. There was nothing inside it to suggest you existed. No pictures. Nothing tied to your name or likeness.
But there were at least the paper cranes. On the kitchen counter, in his room on his nightstand, in shoe boxes shoved in his closet. You knew they were there, but it was a small comfort. Hardly enough to douse the building inferno the last few weeks.
Taehyung got up from the couch, smiling brightly at you. He paused when you didn’t rush to him, his arms dropping along with his facial expression. The same, haunted look he had been wearing the past few weeks traveling back and forth from North America returned.
A small part of you hated yourself for this. You hated making him feel tired. You wanted to be better. You wished you were a better person. You hated that you nagged him, you hated everything about what you contributed: grief.
So why were you standing there angry and silent? Why did you come all the way to his apartment in the rain just to crank the Jack-in-the-box again.
“You’re upset.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. Fuck he sounded so tired. “What did I do?”
“You never do anything.”
“So… you’re upset because I didn’t do something? You’re going to have to explain that to me.”
“I have before, Tae.” You ran a hand through your damp hair. “I’m upset and- fuck it isn’t your fault, exactly. You- you didn’t do something but I’m still fucking angry.”
“You’re not making it any clearer.”
“Why do you get to have rumors about you dating some American popstar but you can’t date me?” Taehyung tilted his head, confusion written on his face. Of course he hadn’t thought about it that way. “Why- why do you get to flirt with her for a performance, but not me?”
“Are you seriously jealous? Baby, we’ve been dating for eight years, I have no interst in her.”
“No,” you waved your hand, blowing away the accusation easily. Because it wasn’t jealous of that nature. It wasn’t jealousy that you thought Taehyung had affection elsewhere. It’s jealousy that he’s not allowed to do that with you. “I know you’re not into her.”
“Then what is this about?”
“You’re not allowed to date me, so why are you allowed to fake date her?”
Taehyung took a few steps in your direction but you make a sound, taking a few steps back. If you let him tough you, you knew the argument would be over. But you needed to speak your peace. You had to get out the ugly, oozing thing that had settled in your chest like an infection.
“I’m not fake dating anyone.”
You shook your head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Taehyung still looked confused. Your hands worked together, fidgeting as you began to pace. “I mean- the entire point of the nondisclosure is that so people don’t think we’re dating. No one can know, no one can even guess. So why is it okay for people to think you’re dating her? Why can you be sexual with her? Why can you openly pretend with her and it’s okay, but you can’t be real with me?”
Taehyung opened and closed his mouth. You watched as several emotions flit across his face. You hated seeing the confusion and the slowly changing features as he grasped the root of your problem.
You felt like the nondisclosure wasn’t about Taehyung. It was about you.
Licking your lips, you continued, voice rising slightly. “The agreements I sign? They don’t limit you. You can be sexual online, you can be suggestive, you can go out with girls as long as they’re of social standing, or they’re pretty. You can- you can be rumored to date anyone and everyone, but I can’t do anything.”
“Swan…”
“No!” You said firmly. “Let me finish! I have been signing those fucking contracts for eight years. But it’s never been about what you’re represented by what you do. It’s about me- because anything I do can’t reflect on you. You can’t be seen with me. You can’t love me. You’ve had plenty of dating rumors- they helped you dispute them but they laughed them off. They weren’t worried about it.”
“I get it, Swan-"
“No! You don’t! Because I’m not allowed to love you, and they’re never going to let me. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
The rain outside was fit for the mood. You stood in the living room, the sound of the world muted beyond the trickle on the window. White light from the tv danced across Taehyung’s face, shifting his features from shadows to swaths of silver. His eyes were watery as the streets below the apartment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at you.
Your heart was a staccato as he murmured, “So what is the solution, then?”
“I don’t know, Taehyung.”
“Well you seem so adamant on insisting there is a problem, you must have thought about ways to solve it.”
His tone was accusatory. His voice wavered and his blush-pink lips trembled. You rarely ever made Taehyung cry, but he was on the verge. A knife twisted your windpipe and you curled your fingers in the hem of your shirt- his shirt.
“You seem to think about this night and fucking day,” he snapped. “So what would make you feel better? Or are you only good at thinking about everything wrong instead of everything we have that’s right?”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Then tell me how to fix it!” The volume of his voice startled you. In the years you had been together, you couldn’t recall Taehyung ever raising his voice at you. Not while fighting. Not while you were upset. “I don’t know how to fix it if you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t want to be a secret anymore.”
“Baby…”
“You asked me how to fix it. I’m telling you what I want. No more hiding. No more pretending I don’t exist. I have been doing this for almost eight years.”
“You know I don’t control that.”
You stared at Taehyung, the last eight years stretching between the two of you.
Not being allowed to take pictures. Not being allowed to visit him at work. Not being allowed to travel with him. Not being allowed to invite him to your family holidays.
Never being able to take pictures. Never being able to go on dates. Never being able to tell people you were in a committed relationship.
No freedom as a couple. No shared apartment. No end to the NDA in sight.
Never never never. The answer was always no.
Your eyes rested on the red paper crane on the coffee table. It was faded with time, the first paper crane you ever made him. The irony was not lost on you that the first time you gave him that crane, he was looking at you with tears in his eyes, the same way he was now.
You’d folded Taehyung hundreds of paper cranes full of hundreds of wishes. Hundreds of ways to say you loved him. Hundreds of ways to say sorry.
But the myth was that you only received a wish when you folded a thousand cranes. But you hadn’t folded a thousand paper cranes yet.
Maybe that’s why it wasn’t working out. Maybe that’s why your voice cracked when you said, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me.”
With a wild gaze, Taehyung stormed across the apartment toward you. You didn’t flinch- you knew he isn’t going to hurt you. He would never. But you were startled by the anger his face. Taehyung was emotional, but the heated gaze and the untethered rage there was new.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you came all this way in the rain, hours after I got home to break up with me.”
You wiped at the tears pouring from your eyes furiously. You didn’t know what you came here for. All you did was upset him. Again. You made him want to cry. Again. There was no paper crane to fix this fight, nothing to mend what you knew was out of control.
So why were you so fucking mad?
“I don’t know what I came here for.”
“That’s fucking bullshit.”
“It’s not! I don’t know! All I know is that this is unfair to me. Did you know there’s a section about unplanned pregnancy in the last NDA I signed?” The anger bleached from his face. It was the first sign you should have lowered your voice, but you didn’t. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Because you never read them- don’t have to read them. If I had an unplanned pregnancy, your company could fucking bury me.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Look, it’s for protection, but it isn’t like that-"
“It is like that. If we break up, I legally can’t go to an entire list of places that you frequent. If you ended things with me, I’m required to turn in any possession of yours that I have, anything that could tie us to you. There is an entire secondary document for a breakup.”
You licked your lips, tasting salt. You didn’t realize you were crying so freely. The rage had left Taehyung as swiftly as it came, and he was staring at you with something worse: heartbreak. Because even though you were a victim, he was too. It wasn’t his fault. But he was being punished by you for something out of your control. Out of his control.
“I love you, Taehyung,” you promised with a whisper. “Desperately. Hungrily. Achingly. I am greedy for your time and your affection at every moment. But this,” you gestured to the general area around you. “This isn’t… this is half of a love life. I’m not telling you that it isn’t enough- but it isn’t fair. And I just… I don’t know how to do this.”
Only a few feet stretched between you. The gap yawned forever. There was no way to close it, no way to reach him. You covered your hands with your face and you cried. Unapologetically, with abandon. You could taste the tears and tried to stop, but it was hard to breath.
You worked yourself into a frenzy, gasping with the sobs. Taehyung was there, despite the heated exchange, despite not knowing how to fix it. He held you as you sobbed, body tired and wracking. It felt like there was no end. Like you couldn’t catch a breath.
Taehyung sat you on the floor, trying to talk you through it, trying to help you breathe. But there was no comfort- not really. Not when you were this lost on what to do. Not when you were allowed to love him.
-
It felt as though your eyes had been on fire for a week. Things with you and Taehyung were strained at best. You weren’t broken up, but you were… distant. You asked for time and space to figure out what you wanted to do. Taehyung, unsure of how to answer you, had agreed.
That was the thing about Taehyung. He bent where he could. He bowed when he needed to. But the situation between the two of you was a legal issue. A professional issue. Taehyung couldn’t say no to one of the biggest parts of his life. And you didn’t want to ask him to.
So it left you at an impasse. It left you drifting, unsure what to do with yourself.
Routine kept you going. Work. Exercise. Read a little. Watch some TV. Game with Jungkook based on the rule that he wouldn’t tell Taehyung and you wouldn’t talk about what was going on. As soon as he broached the topic, you ended the discord call.
It wasn’t up for discussion.
A week went by like that, drifting through life. You spoke to Taehyung at least once a day. On the best days, it was a short exchange making sure you were home and you were okay. On the worst days, it was a simple I love you. I love you too.
It was starting to weigh on you that you didn’t have an answer. You felt like you were on the road to more tears shed as you walked into the apartment. You knew you needed to do something to distract yourself. Anything.
Pulling a drawer open in the kitchen you grabbed stacks of paper. Colored paper, patterned paper, foil paper. It didn’t matter. Your vision grew blurry as you pulled the sheet off the top of the stack, fingers moving out of habit. You knew every crease. You knew every line. You folded the first paper crane with near blind obedience.
Your fingers worked a second one. Fold the wing. Crease the neck. Your second paper crane was done with tears streaming down your face, unable to see the result of the tear-stained paper. It didn’t matter. You knew the folds the way you knew you loved Taehyung.
Fold after fold. Crane after crane. You folded and moved on. Folded and cried. Folded and screamed.
By the time it got dark in the apartment, you stood at the kitchen counter, blinking, staring at the work of years and years of practiced hands. Years of love, years of wanting.
You counted the cranes. Frowned. Counted again. And then laughed. Laughed until your palms were pressed against the cool counter, laughed until your stomach hurt and you were crying again.
It had taken a little over eight years, but you had folded one thousand paper cranes. A thousand paper fucking cranes for the most wonderful person you knew. For someone you wanted a single wish for.
It’s not a swan, it’s a crane. My mom gives them to me when I’m sick.
I’m not sick.
Well, feeling sad is a lot like feeling sick.
Feeling sad was a lot like feeling sick. And giving Taehyung that tiny, red bird had fixed something in him that day.
Without thinking, you grabbed an empty grocery bag, sweeping the cranes into them and shoving shoes on your feet.
-
Slamming your fist against the door was the first reckless thing you had done in eight years. It felt so fucking good, panting outside Taehyung’s apartment as you repeatedly hammered your fist against the door. You didn’t care if someone came out and saw you. The time for caring was over.
The grocery bag full of cranes swung wildly on your arm as you knocked. Taehyung ripped the door open, expression wild as you stormed in, pushing past him. He fumbled after you, questions bubbling to his lips as you marched into his living room. The little red crane was still on his coffee table.
You spun to face him as he caught up with you, brows pinched. He was in pajamas, obviously having been asleep. You vaguely realized it was after midnight.
“What are you-"
“I folded a thousand paper cranes for you,” you breathed, thrusting the bag in his direction. He tentatively took it, eyes flickering from the animals shoved in the grocery bag back to you. “A thousand of them over eight years. They say if you fold a thousand paper cranes in a lifetime, you get a wish or good fortune- I don’t fucking know. But I folded a thousand for you because I loved you- because I love you. And I’m sorry. If I can fold a thousand paper cranes, I can do this.”
Taehyung’s brows raised further as a mile began playing at the corner of his lips. You pushed on, words rushing out of you like a broken dam. “If I can fold those fucking birds while I’m crying my eyes out blind, I can do this for you. I- it isn’t easy for me. It hurts a lot, but… it isn’t about me. It’s about us, and it was unfair, and-“
“Swan,” Taehyung said gently, setting the bag on his kitchen counter.
You didn’t notice, staring at your feet as you continue rambling, “I don’t want them to hide me forever. But I get it, and I need to be strong for you. For us. So I folded these, because I’m sorry, and I was wrong-"
“Swan,” Taehyung announced loudly, drawing your attention to him, your mouth hanging open.
What you saw on his face surprised you. Warmth. Pure, unfiltered softness as he looked at you, radiant as ever. He crossed the space between the two of you and you reached out instinctually. “Are you done with your speech?”
“Um, I guess?”
“Good. I was going to call you tomorrow at normal hours, but I guess it’s a good of a time as any.”
Your brows pinched at the tilt to his mouth, the way he cradled your face. His eyes were bright, and he was humming with the heat and energy of a thousand suns. “Is everything okay? Wait, did they reverse the Grammy Award, because while unheard of, that would make sense and-"
“No more NDA.”
Silence. And then, “Huh?”
He folded his mouth slightly to hide his laughter. He pulls you in by your face, pressing your chest against his. His breath is warm and sweet, hinting that he was eating candy again before bed. “I had a very long talk with the company. They are dissolving your nondisclosure. I should have your new papers agreeing that it’s null and void tomorrow.”
“Null and void?”
“Yep.”
“Dissolved?”
His laughter is a spring morning. “Yes, baby.”
“The nondisclosure.”
“I love hearing you ramble but fuck please kiss me. I’ve missed you.”
You kissed him feverishly. Every reservation you had went out the window. The fabric of his shirt twisted in your hands as you moved your mouth slowly against his. His lips were perfectly shaped for yours, his fingers crushing your skin as he pulled you to him. Taehyung licked your bottom lip, opening the seam of your mouth, groaning into you as his tongue explored the new space.
The world was spinning. Taehyung’s mouth was warm and his tongue moved languidly. You didn’t know which way was up or down. There was just Taehyung and his tongue brushing the roof of your mouth, his heart pounding wildly against your chest.
You broke apart, chests heaving. Taehyung’s lips chased yours as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before peppering your jaw with delicate kisses, burning a path to your throat. You tilted your head back, baring the flesh of your throat to him as he nipped at the tender flesh, tongue soothing the sharp pain quickly. You let out a moan, making Taehyung groan.
Taehyung hoisted you into the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt like you were floating as he carried you to the bedroom. You hit the mattress and he was on top of you, leaning on his forearms which were placed on either side of your head, supporting his weight. Taehyung buried his face in your neck, teething and licking at any skin he could find.
Your hands explored Taehyung’s body. You pulled at his shirt, the material unmoving as you yanked at the hem, a wanton noise escaping you when you said, “Off. Take it off.”
Taehyung’s mouth left you next for a moment, shrugging out of the shirt. He was a work of art. He was beautiful under the delicate touch of your fingers, his skin hot to the touch and shivering where your fingers ghosted over his flesh. He shivered again and again as you touched him and let out a throaty moan into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’ve got hands made to touch me.”
“You’re beautiful,” You whispered, hands roaming his skin. He caught one of your hands in his, sitting on his knees and leaning back from you as he kissed the pads of your fingers, your palm, your wrist. Your fingers danced up the long stretch of his torso, marveling at him.
It was like Taehyung was cut from marble, artfully crafted by the hands of an artist. His abs flexed under your touch, muscles jumping.
“Beautiful,” You murmured again before he stole your lips in a bruising kiss.
Taehyung gripped the hem of your leggings and pulled, sliding them down your legs. He kissed the newly exposed flesh, drawing moans from your lips as you arched into the touch. His lips were dangerously hot on your thighs, your calves.
Kissing his way back up, he grabbed the shirt and pulled it off your, Taehyung gazed at your naked form writhing under him for a moment, teeth caught between his lips. He descended on you, taking a nipple into his mouth and lavishing it while his hand slipped to your underwear, fingers dancing along the waist of the thin material before hooking his fingers in them and pulling. You pulled your legs up, helping him discard the material.
You could not stop the moans leaving your mouth now. Taehyung’s teeth pulled at your skin and you arched your chest into his mouth, begging for more. Your thighs rubbed together for friction, entire body shaking with what his touch was doing to you. You were overwhelmed, the entire world on fire, lit by his hands, his teeth, his lips.
A blazing trail of fire followed Taehyung’s lips as he kissed and licked his way down your stomach. Your hands rubbed up and down his arms which held your hips in place. He settled himself between your legs, kissing and biting your inner thighs. You could feel your core dripping with heat. Your breath hitched as Taehyung placed kisses closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.
Taehyung looked up at you, hands smoothing down to push your legs down, exposing you to him entirely. His hands slowly made their way down your body before dropping to where you wanted him most. He licked his lips and groaned appreciatively.
“Soaked for me, baby?” His voice had dropped an octave. You shivered again, head swimming. Taehyung had you spinning in another world entirely. “What a sweet fucking pussy.” You moaned. He blew air lightly onto your clit and you yelped, hips bucking against his firm grip on you. “I wanna hear your voice, Swan.”
“Yes,” you groaned. “Fuck I want you so bad Taehyung. Put your tongue on me.”
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Say less.”
Your moan came out hoarse, stuck in your throat as Taehyung flattened his tongue and licked your pussy from top to bottom. You could not stop shaking, body reacting to Taehyung on an anatomical level. You were nearly crying as his tongue worked up and down, licking your folds and clit with a hot, eager tongue. Your hands found purchase in the sheets, twisting into them.
It was like his tongue had a mind of its own, circling around your aching clit in a tantalizing motion that left you desperate to keep his face close. His name was falling from your lips in a prayer as he took you entirely into his mouth, sucking hard. The noises he made were messy and lewd but it spurred you on, hips trying to grind up into his mouth.
“Fuck- oh my god-” you stuttered. “Please don’t stop.”
His chuckle vibrated through your bundle of nerves, sending you into a fit of moans and whines. “I couldn’t stop if I tried.”
Taehyung licked a fat stripe up the center of your pussy. “You taste like the nectar of the gods baby,” he hummed. His tongue worked your core and you bucked into his mouth again. “Fuck this pussy is perfect.”
You felt your orgasm curl in the deepest part of your stomach. You shook under Taehyung’s ministrations. You yelped when he spit on your clit, the sensation startling but making you moan louder as he dove back in. Taehyung ate you out like a man starved, messy and skillfully, drinking you in. You were near tears as the white hot lightning of your orgasm struck. Your muscles clenched and you seized into the mattress, thighs screaming in agony as you tried to close them. Taehyung didn’t stop. He licked you through your orgasm, alternating between licking, sucking and biting your pussy.
“Holy fuck,” You cursed. You were seeing stars behind your eyes, squeezed shut so hard that you could nearly see the entire cosmos laid out before her. You couldn’t stop trembling as your hands tore at Taehyung’s hair, trying to get him to ease up on the overstimulation threatening you. “Fuck me,” you begged. “I want you to fuck me.”
Taehyung’s mouth came off your clit with a lewd pop. He looked up at you, his eyes nearly black. His pupils were dilated, a predator zeroed in on its meal. “Yeah?” he asked. His tongue darted out for a single kitten lick against your clit, making you buck. “I can eat this pussy all fucking night but if you want me to fuck you, I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes,” you whispered. “I want to feel you inside of me.”
Taehyung obeyed without protest. He stood, never taking his eyes off of you as your fingers traced patterns on his skin. He removed his pajama bottoms, dick springing free. You made a sound at the sight of it, thick and long, head weeping with precum. Your mouth watered as your hand slipped between them, fingers dancing along his velvety shaft and gripped, pumping him a few times.
“God- fuck, Y/n.”
Your name sounded holy in his mouth. You squeezed lightly, your thumb running over the head of his cock and spreading his precum. “Say it again.”
“What, baby?”
“My name.”
“Y/n,” he moaned. Hips bucking lightly into your hand. His hands rested on your knees as you worked him with your small hand, face tilted to the sky. His hair fell back from his forehead. You watched him, open mouth and fascinated by the way your name fell from his lips. “Fuck-hmmm- I told you these hands were made for me. Fuck, Swan-”
Without warning he broke your contact with him. Taehyung lunged at you, catching your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you didn’t care, fingers tangling in his hair. One hand held his weight above you, the other skimming down to guide him to your dripping entrance. You moaned into his mouth and he stole it from you, swallowing the sound as he rubbed the head of his cock in your messy folds, making you whine.
Taehyung’s mouth left yours and he kissed down your chin, your jaw, your neck. He settled in your neck, fingers twinning in the hair at the back of the nap of your neck. He pulled slightly, an appreciative tone leaving your mouth as he breathed against your bruised neck.
“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore,” Taehyung growled.
You gasped as Taehyung thrusted into you without warning. You were thankful for the orgasm he’d given you with his mouth- he slid in easily. You felt your walls clenched around his thick girth, stretching you as he slid to the hilt, bottoming out. The sound that came out of your mouth was foreign and loud. You couldn’t breathe as Taehyung pulled back out and slammed in again, shifting you up the bed slightly. He held your body to his as he set a slow, hard-thrusted pace.
Every time Taehyung thrusted into you, he stole your breath away. You were gasping for air. His cock rubbed against every part of you, sparking pleasure so intense you weren’t sure you were even in the present anymore. You were somewhere else and it was just you and Taehyung and the feeling of him moving inside you. It was addicting. Your nails clawed at him as you screamed, legs wrapping around his hips as he pistoned into you, setting a faster pace.
Taehyung was shaking above you. His breath was hot in the shell of your ear, his shaky breath littered with curses, your name and other slurred words you couldn’t understand. He fucked you down into the mattress so hard your body was bouncing up to cut his thrusts short, making you scream in pleasure.
Lifting his face from your neck, Taehyung kissed you again. He didn’t give you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yous with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. He let go of your lips and leaned back, so that he was kneeling, your hips lifted from the bed as he fucked into you at a new angle. You heard a scream of pleasure, belatedly realizing it was yourself.
“Fuck- dammit Taehyung, don’t stop,” You begged.
His hands held your hips as you thrusted up to meet his pace, thighs burning with the effort. “Fuck baby,” he growled, eyes darting down to watch as his cock disappeared into your pussy. “I could fuck you all night. Your hands, this pussy- fuck- made for me. Fuck.”
Taehyung’s hair was wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, you wanted to bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” Your hands scrambled to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Taehyung! Fuck baby!”
You struggled as another orgasm crested, a wave roaring in the distance. You touched him anywhere you could; thighs, stomach, arms, chest. You couldn’t help but fall silent as you pushed yourself into the bed beneath him, not able to breath, the tension in your stomach building and building and building, so intense that words were beyond your ability.
Taehyung groaned. “Gonna cum again, Swan?” There were tears in your eyes as you nodded, breath stuck in your throat. “Squeeze my cock then. You’re so good for me, cum on my cock- fuck like that.”
The world beyond your orgasm vanished. You were sure you were in Heaven as Taehyung fucked you through your orgasm. Nothing came out of your mouth made sense as your body stuttered underneath him. Faintly beyond the roar of your orgasm, you could hear Taehyung cursing as he ruthlessly slammed into you. You felt spent and like your limbs were no longer able to move as the orgasm fell, a wash of trembling and tingling settling over you.
“Fucking hell,” Taehyung moaned, looking down at you. “I’m so in love with you. Nothing will ever make you doubt how meant you are for me again.”
You couldn’t answer him. He flipped your over and you felt like you were knocked into another plane of existence. His cock left you for a moment as you caught your breath, tears running into the mattress as you tried and failed to prop your ass in the air. Your thighs couldn’t bear your weight, orgasm turning your bones to jelly.
Taehyung kissed up your spine, stopping to nip the shell of your ear. “Don’t,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder. “I got you.”
Both of Taehyung’s arms snaked around your waist, hoisting you to your knees. Your chest was heaving. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and splayed a large hand on your collarbone, pushing your sweaty back firmly into his chest. His heart was beating so hard you vaguely wondered if he would go into cardiac arrest. The thought was fleeting, Taehyung sliding back into you from a new angle.
“Oh,” you breathed.
Taehyung was true to his word. He held you up firmly against him, holding your weight so that you wouldn’t fall back into the mattress in a puddle. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, one hand gripping his hand at your collarbone for purchase and the other at his forearm around your waist. His hips fucked you harder than before, slamming to the hilt each time. His breath fanned against your exposed neck.
“Feels so fucking good,” You moaned, eyes closed as you melted into him. “You feel so fucking good Taehyung.”
“Yeah?” he asked, licking her shoulder. “Fuck I can’t get enough of you. I love you.”
“I love you,” You gasped him, nails digging into his skin, leaving little crescent moves.
“I love you- you’re such a good girl, taking my cock like this.” Taehyung’s hands left you and you fell forward, unable to support yourself. His hands went to the dimples in your back, pushing you further into the mattress. You were pliant underneath his hands, though you thought he would break you in half. “Fuuuuuuuck.”
Slurs and incomprehensible language fell from your lips. You couldn’t move under the full weight of him. You thought he had fucked you roughly before but this was harder. His hips bruised your ass, slamming so hard that you were crying out in pain and pleasure. He was ruthless, the pressure of his hands on your spine pressing and demanding.
Filthy words left his mouth. You continued to spiral out of control. In a few moments another orgasm lingered on the horizon, pacing back and forth as it built. You were nearly crying, wiggling underneath him as you fought off the sensation building in you. You felt like you couldn’t orgasm again or you would cease to exist, the pleasure so threatening and hard you weren’t sure if you were speaking at all.
“Come on, baby,” Taehyung urged. “One more, can you do that for me?” You nodded, though you weren’t sure. “Fuck, this pretty pussy is mine.”
The next orgasm sent you somewhere faraway. You scream was in the distance. You knew you were shaking and you were clenching so hard you saw white behind your eyelids. Every muscle in your body spasmed and you stopped breathing.
Taehyung trembled above you. His fingers dug harder into your skin. It would leave bruises in the morning. His pace became sloppy and he grunted, curses twisted with your name as he came, his hips losing their rhythm as his body trembled. He slowed and stopped, collapsing on top of you, gasping for air. You didn’t mind his crushing weight, the way his sweaty skin stuck to yours. You were were still numb, trembling lightly. Darkness hovered on the edge of your vision, swelling and threatening to sweep you to sleep.
Rolling, Taehyung pulled you to him. His lips whispered against the crown of your head. I love you. You’re perfect for me. I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to them. I will spend forever making it up to you. Please never forget that I love you.
As you drifted in Taehyung’s arms, you smiled spotting a red paper crane on his nightstand.
“By the way,” you whispered, half asleep. “Stop eating candy before bed, Taehyung.”
He laughed and kissed your cheek.
Your wish had finally come true.
-
Famous K-Pop star from BTS was recently spotted and confirmed to be dating a childhood friend. Vocalist Kim Taehyung, known better by his stage name V, has broken hearts of millions across the globe. For more photos on the happy couple enjoying their date at a five-star restaurant….
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Hierarchy - Panther Hybrid!Yoongi X Bunny Hybrid!Reader
Requested by Anon: Saw you were looking for requests so I come nearing gifts!! I’d like to request an panther hybrid yoongi x bunny hybrid reader enemies to lovers college au!! yn goes to a uni where most of the students are preds, yoongi hates her for some reason despite her being really nice, ANGST PLEASE!!
Word count: 9k (this literally has no reason being as long as it is 😂😭)
Notes: Thank you anon for requesting! Sorry it took so long to get together! (I’m still dealing with a lot rn) This fic is literally my baby now, I worked so hard on it to stick to the request! Not sure if I made it as angsty as you wanted, though, I hope you like it anon baby! Also, this is like my first hybrid fic, so don’t come for me 😂😂
Enjoy! Also, thank you @xpeachesncream for listening to my rambles lol
- Masterlist
Thunder claps loudly, answering lightning’s call; the skies sending down rain in buckets. Grey clouds rolls against eachother, harsh wind sending leaves plucked off their homes and through the air. Your umbrella hardly stood a chance against the temperamental weather. You were forced to hold it tightly in your grip, and low over your head to avoid being soaked.
The forecast predicted no such thing, and it was only by chance, you packed your umbrella before catching the train. You suspect, that neither Hoseok or Namjoon shared your luck, as they were taking forever to meet at the entrance like they promised.
Everyone was trying to get inside before the rain got any worse, running through the downpour and splashing through puddles. Skirting by you to retreat into the warmth of the building that loomed behind. You should be doing the same. Your cousin had long abandoned you to face the storm, dripping wet, because he was too tall to seek shelter under your umbrella for one. Jungkook had slipped inside not two minutes after climbing the stairs, shivering harder than a leaf in autumn, telling you that he’d come back and wait with you through chattering teeth.
You doubted it, as you’re still left standing alone on the steps of the academy ten minutes after, and he was probably dry and warm in the safety of his dorm room. Burrowed under the thick blanket he’d packed as a last minute thought this morning, and most likely alseep, too. Jungkook found peace in rainy weather, preferring to sleep through it than sit and listen to the howling winds. You hoped it wouldn’t be trouble to wake him later for first term assembly, as he always slept deeper than he’d normally when rain fell. Waking him on a normal day was a task enough.
You hear Hoseok before you see him, his distinctive cackle reaching your ears above the howling winds, happy and loud as Hoseok was on his best days. You turn head just in time to see Namjoon picking himself off the ground, mud smeared all down his front, and Hoseok helping despite trying his best to stop laughing. Their trunks sat at their sides, though Namjoon’s was toppled over, no doubt, he tripped over it running through the rain.
You could only shake your head, abandoning your own trunk atop the stairs to walk down and towards the boys, who looked very much like wet puppies; hair and clothes stuck to their forms. Your attention mostly on the tear of fabric at Namjoon’s knee, and the terrible bruise that blossomed with rubies, already being washed away by the rain.
That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Enjoy! :D And Happy Halloween! This is my treat for you!
rock!Yoongi x reader :D fluff a bit of angst a lot of silliness
Word Count 1.3k
---
Yoongi is a rock, so he doesn’t have much thought. But perhaps, for a rock, his thoughts are a lot.
Yoongi is a rock, so doesn’t have ears, but he can hear, how the wind whips around his solid rock build. He doesn’t have eyes, but he can see, your smile as you climb the other rocks to be with him for a while. And he doesn’t have a mouth to protest the way you step on his surface, shoes full of dirt as you pull yourself up and lay your body down, but he doesn’t seem to mind, because you’re here with him now.
What Yoongi does have is memories, so many for a rock. He remembers the days it took for his rough edges to smooth, the water that slowly disappeared and left him all alone. Surrounded by fish and then surrounded by nothing.
He remembers the sunlight that filled the water’s absence, the heat he felt for the first time and the trees that grew around him. So many memories, he lived for days and days, not really living, but wearing away. The endlessness, the memories, alone he stayed. He didn’t mind, as a rock, the way time took parts of him away. He didn’t mind for days, until he met you.
When he first met you, you were young and free. Would tumble and play around him, all day in the breeze.
Never near him, always in the soft grassy plain or in the trees, of course you would choose to sit in the softness of the earth. It was not hard, like a rock, like Yoongi, would be.
Until one day you did choose Yoongi, climbing with your small limbs over the terrain until you reached the peak, atop the world, looking down at the sea of green, the same sights Yoongi would see.
You drew on him with chalk, a new look for the rock. He became so much more, a flower, a bee, a face, a home, a heart, your spot, it made him happy. When the rain showered down, and splattered away your heart, he went back to being a rock. But Yoongi was changed, more than he thought.
You came back and you played. And your laughter filled the wind’s silence, and your smile shone brighter than the sun, in Yoongi’s opinion, who lived much longer than you, and knew the sun’s rays much better than you.
Then when you grew a bit older, you found solace at the peak of your world, where Yoongi stayed grounded and reliable, and all yours.
At day time you’d let the sun warm your body, giving Yoongi some shade. And at night time you’d watch the stars, and tell Yoongi about your day. It was a routine, like most of Yoongi's rock life, but became something Yoongi began to look forward to, as a rock with nowhere to go. It was a routine Yoongi didn’t want to let go.
When school started, you talked about your school days, your loneliness, your bullies, and Yoongi longed to grow limbs and follow you back to teach those bullies a lesson, but Yoongi was a rock, and that just wasn’t going to happen.
You worked on your homework, pages and books splayed over and shifting in the wind, groaning over problems, sketching hearts into Yoongi instead, until dinner came and you left Yoongi again.
And Yoongi waited. Because well, as a rock, there was nothing else he could do but wait. And wait, he did. He waited for you.
He waited and watched and waited and heard, for any signs when you’d return.
And one day you brought a boy to your special place, laid down a blanket and talked to him instead of Yoongi. And that boy kissed you, and if Yoongi had a heart, it might have cracked, but his hearts were graphite and chalk, and already washed away, so Yoongi endured, listened to your laughter, happy you came back.
And one day you came running, stood high and screamed, and then cried and cried and cried, lying on your side, for you really had a heart, and in your first heartache all you wanted to do was be alone, on the top of the world, atop the place where it felt like home.
Yoongi felt your tears, it reminded him of the sea, and as you cried he thought, things are not lost forever, and one day you too will see.
And one day you came dancing, your dress blowing in the breeze, and sat again and told him about your life like the days when you were young and Yoongi thought, in all the years he lived as rock, and all the things he’d seen, you were by far the most beautiful creature in the world to him.
You were his rock. His connection to something more than wind and grass and trees, you were a piece of humanity that Yoongi yearned to see.
And one day, it was not you who came, but men in yellow hats and thick boots and metal in their hands. They came back again and again, with larger tools and metal machinery and more and more, and the grass and trees you loved so much were cut down and destroyed, but not Yoongi.
And when you finally came back to Yoongi, eyes filled with shock, you questioned and pleaded with the men to stop, but they had a job to do, and laughed at you, and Yoongi stayed, full of pain at your hurt, and wished he was a man too, so he could protect you.
When the men had gone, you snuck back in, and watched the stars, fearing it will be your last, and wished you were a rock, so you didn’t have to go back. And you told Yoongi about your life with tears in your eyes, and you told him how you missed this place, and wished for things to change. You wished you had come back sooner, protected this place instead.
You stayed all night, looking at the stars, you stayed until you fell asleep, and woke up to machinery and men telling you to leave. Yoongi heard the grinding gears and your cries telling them to stop, and he felt the ground beneath him shake, and everything lifting up.
He wished he could tell you not to cry, not to worry, that it will be alright. Yoongi lived as a rock for years and years, becoming less and less, until you came and made him whole and left him with no regret.
And when Yoongi cracked he thought of you, and when Yoongi broke he thought of you, and when he scattered and turned to sand what was left of him was you.
---
---
“Hey sleepy head. You sleep like a rock.”
Yoongi woke up to your lazy kisses against his cheek. He shuddered awake, eyes adjusting to the sunlight filling your bedroom.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” his voice gruff from sleep, “I just had a strange dream.”
“Hmm okay.” You yawn and hold him closer. “What did you want to do today?”
Yoongi grunts, his fingers finding yours, interlacing them together. “A picnic?”
“Really?” Yoongi smiles at the excitement in your voice, pulling you closer, laying kisses on your forehead, breathing in deep.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
---
[Now go listen to the Audio Ver. by @voice-over-ff ]
Ever read The Giving Tree? I haven’t read it in so long but it’s a story that I still think about decades later, this is somewhat inspired by it. I am very proud of this silly story, so I am going to log off and try not to take it personally if this doesn’t get a lot of notes lol, but know if you do choose to show your love, it touches me deeply.
So I originally intended this to be a drabble for my story HOAL, you may or may not choose to view it as part of HOAL universe, set in a future we have not gotten to yet in the story lol. <3
Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.
chapter: one
Word Count: 7.2k+
rating: T (mentions of death, depression/mental illness, past abuse and neglect, and reader’s height is briefly alluded to)
genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU
tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader
Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook
Ch.2
Author’s Note: New at this so go easy on me please. 🥺 Probably one of the few times I will ever use an unnamed Y/N. I’m not very used to writing in this format, but I am too lazy to think up a good name as I intended for this to be a one-shot. Though I am awful at one-shots …so this may end up in 2-3 parts. This came from a prompt I wish I could credit but can’t find now, about hybrid Bangtan “adopting” a human that Taehyung brings home. This was originally meant to be a funny and strictly fluffy take on the prompt, but evolved into this somewhat angsty mess. Apologies. Still fluffy though, I promise.
It had been one week. One week without Choi Han-Gyeol, and the boys were still very much in mourning. It hurt when so much of their lives had been intertwined with the man’s, and so much of him still lingered everywhere around the farm. They could no longer hear the sharp cackles over his own jokes, but the ugly painting of a morose clown he had bought on a whim from the bizarre still hung in the living room. Not even three weeks ago he had affixed it to the wall, near the mantel decorated in photos of the boys through the years. Jimin took one look at the clown’s sunken cheeks, droopy eyes and quivering lips, declared it a monstrosity, and then demanded it come down.
But Han-Gyeol or Gramps as he preferred they called him, made a remark about how he would leave it up, because with the portrait hanging there, he wouldn’t have to go down the hall to look in the mirror. Joking at his own expense was one of his specialities. Jin had picked up his sense of corny humor from years of close exposure, and the boys groaned over each of the duo’s lame puns or terrible one-liners.
Now it was different, though. Jin hadn’t even attempted a joke since the day before they lost their guardian—Gramps never cared for being referred to as their owner or master, a habit easier to break for some of them than others. The funeral was a pretty swift process, thanks to the meticulous instructions the old man had left behind. Apparently he had been planning for the inevitability for a while, likely since his health started to take a serious decline.
He brushed them off when they cast him worried gazes, practically growling like a hybrid himself when they hovered too much or tried to discreetly take on more of his house chores. He hated being coddled and said he would rather keep his dignity and some semblance of independence.
Han-Gyeol had no children, just some scattered great-nephews and a great-niece. None of them contested the will, leaving everything to his hybrids. Then again, the old guy was smart. On paper, it looked like all he’d really had left at the end was a farm in the middle of nowhere, one his family had never visited.
– summary: as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.
– warnings: some angst, some fluff, a lot of alcohol, jealousy, yoongi being a bit of a fuckboy, crying, reader being in an emotional rollercoaster during the whole fic. not proof-read because i am that lazy, i’m sorry.
How the hell did you always end up in the same situation?
It was a reoccurring event by now: You on the dancefloor of some stranger’s living room, a drink in your hand and your friends by your side. That itself didn’t sound too bad, if it wasn’t for the knot you felt in your stomach.
By now it was almost a familiar feeling; the pain and uncertainty have been ruining your last few Saturday nights out.
“What’s the problem?” you almost couldn’t hear Hoseok yell over the loud music but his facial expressions gave away that he seemed worried about you.
“I’m fine,” you promised and gave him a bright smile before raising your cup for him to toast with you – both of you knew you weren’t fine at all but after being your friend for years Hoseok knew better than to harass you into telling what was occupying your mind.
You appreciated your friend very much for that, happy that he would never pressure you into saying out loud what almost everyone assumed anyways.
Though no one knew for sure what the reason for your mood swings were – it was okay for them to assume it, but you would never admit it. If any of your friends found out you knew they’d try to get involved and only would make things more awkward than they already were for you.
genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mini angst? (idk they have an argument), brief mentions of sex, jk is mean
word count: 1.8k
note: this can be read as a standalone but i wrote this with the tongue tied couple in mind cuz i kinda wanna start a drabble series for them heheheh. anywayyyy i hope y'all enjoy this <3 i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like or a reblog if you like it ♡
series masterpost | main masterlist
“You’re just fucking chatty today, aren’t you?”
The harsh tone of his voice wipes any trace of a smile off your face and makes your lips part in shock as you gape at him. Irritation becomes contagious and confined to your shared apartment.
( because instagram user jungkook.97 is a menace to society and our lovestruck oc can't catch a break. but someone call a medic for this piece (and it isn't for her)! shoutout to the little love of an anon suggesting me to write content based on jk's latest ig flirtations -- we really synced up with this one, my love! )
you barely could contain your eyeroll when you entered the studio space, loud voices and ringing laughter echoing throughout the court-sized room. all the lights were blared on and you met sooah's bright gaze from the opposite side of the room. sharing a silent nod of acknowledgement with her, you shuffled to set your belongings down, saying quiet good morning's to the other members of the bts team that day. you wished you were a morning person, really you did.
truthfully, the caffeine you had nurtured in your hands in the form of your reusable tumbler hadn't settled into your system just yet.
you narrowly withheld your wince when you heard namjoon's bellowing voice ring out as you settled your purse into one of the protruding storage cubes at the back of the dance studio. "what is this now?! how could you say stuff like that and not expect armys to throw a hissy fit-- oh my god. jungkook-sshi!"
hoseok's bright cackle and repeated claps followed suit, and you turned on your heel to witness jungkook grin cheekily with a shrug of his shoulders. "hyung, it wasn't that bad! i was only answering their questions, it was all in good fun."
"good fun, he says." yoongi snorted from his seated position, back against the mirror wall. he raised a hand and pointed an accusatory finger towards the youngest, whose giggle shot straight through your heart when jungkook raised his hands in faux innocence. "you try saying that shit to anyone and get them to believe it was all in 'good fun'. you're inflicting damage on our fans. ay, this guy..."
"anyone here would know i'm joking!" jungkook stated defensively, eyes growing wide and lips turning pouty as he talked, gesturing promptly in the direction of the crew slowly forming in number for dance practice recording of the boys' grammy performance stage.
as if spurred to prove a point, you watched with the feeling akin to mortification as jungkook turned his head and his eyes locked onto yours with a single sweep. if the caffeine hadn't decided to spark energy through your veins in that very moment, that gaze alone would have done the job.
attuned to the way he carried himself in the space that he took up, you don't miss the way an expression flashed across his features; the actual meaning behind it you couldn't decipher as he was already making his way toward you.
"noona." he breathed out simply and it was enough to knock the air right out of your lungs in return. his hair wasn't even styled yet and he still looked impeccable; face completely bare since you weren't working on his complexion until later when the rest of the members arrived. something glinted in his eyes as he stood before you, but it was when he tilted his head a little and the corner of his lips quirked upward did you physically feel your brain crackle with white noise.
"do you want to eat ramen with me before you go home later?"
complete silence enveloped the dance studio but you wouldn't really know for certain since it felt like your heart was lurched against your throat and beating against your very eardrums. the only indication that you steeled yourself back to reality was when your fingers clutched around your tumbler for dear life, knuckles briefly turning white before your surroundings shifted to normal.
with the force of your entire resolve, you felt your shoulders lift in an easy shrug.
"deal. pick a place and i'll be there, hm?"
it was like his resolve demolished the moment you opened your mouth. both staff and his groupmates either gasped, exploded with exclamations ranging from ohhhhhh shit! to no way that just happened?! or stood up and did both. namjoon's body barreled into jungkook's from behind in astonished cackles, and hoseok was flat on his back laughing at the top of his lungs. yoongi was keeled over to the side, slapping the ground underneath, and you had half a mind to look away -- only to catch sooah's wide-eyed, stunned expression that only made the heat rising up from your neck ten times worse.
after high-fiving some of the crew members and guffawing at waggling eyebrows directed your way, things were forced to settle down after namjoon clapped and told everyone to focus up since the other three had just arrived at the parking lot. you took one strong gulp from your coffee and set your mug to the side, reaching over to fetch your bags and chanced a glance toward him.
it startled you slightly that jungkook's eyes were still staring, ears letting off steam at that point with how red they were, but he broke eye contact first to clear his throat before making his way over.
"you're really gonna get it now," sooah's voice chided lowly as she walked passed you from behind, a playfully light smack against your hip with her hand as she did so. you threw her an equally fun glare, to which she laughed brightly at, shaking her head as she went and beckoned toward hoseok; comb and hairspray in hand.
his shadow casted over you then, causing you to look up. with the lighting shielded away from this position, his eyes were looming in darkness. there was fascination across his features, as if he was seeing you for the first time in a new way. the briefest of blushes was creeping across his skin when you hummed out next, rather nonchalantly despite the beating of your heart against your chest.
"don't go torturing your fans like that," you started with a click of your tongue, looking down to locate his concealer shade. fetching a small complexion brush and a puff to slide against your pinky and ring finger, you resumed the position you held around him the last handful of years. it was comforting, being in this small space with jungkook, setting your silent feelings aside and simply being present.
instinctively, he leaned forward as he always does but the action that day somehow making him consciously aware of how close he was to you. "you know how they'll react no matter the true intention behind your answers. they love you and because you were never this active on social media before, they'll claw at everything you give."
"okay," he said rather easily, making you suspect he really wasn't listening to what you had to share. sighing quietly, jungkook caught that and made a reaffirming sound at the back of his throat. "no, noona, i mean it. i'll try not to..."
"good," you chuckled then, letting your eyes roam his features for any other blemishes or places you could hide away for him. it was your favourite past time, allowing yourself the privilege to be so close to him and admiring his features up front in this way. from the pretty slant of his nose to the arch of his eyebrows that really had no need to be filled in, he was a canvas to behold for all artists to witness.
when your eyes swept across his lips, you looked away so you could locate the tub of lip balm that he specifically asked you to carry around every day, without fail. when you held it up to him, he straightened his posture and took it from your hand, fingers brushing against yours softly enough to send tiny tingles across your skin.
"i'm kidding by the way, you're allowed to do what you want. i know you care about them and you were having fun with your fans last night." swiping back the lip balm rather dramatically after he was done, jungkook's breathy chuckle made you smile back as you gazed up at him. "just behave yourself, you flirting machine."
as if shaking off the previous shock that you plagued him with initially, the normal jungkook that you've grown to enjoy simply being around was back, bouncing on the heels of his sneakered feet. "i should make sure to save some of my best lines for you then, noona."
"you little--!" you mimicked the motion of throwing a punch at him, having him dodge and run away with ease, his heartwrenching giggle falling from his lips as he spotted a telltale blush blooming across your face. he will take that as his own victorious blow, settling the score to be even between the both of you.
he could get used to this game, if he had to be honest with himself.
ღ summary: Sometimes your emotions overwhelmed you, sometimes they made you cry, but your friends were there to comfort you all the time. Crybaby, a sweet nickname bestowed upon you by said friends, but when Kim Namjoon says it, it’s more of a tease.
ღ wc: 1.6k
ღ warnings: cursing, oc is a crybaby, oc gets (heavily) babied by all her friends, alcohol mention/consumption, some pining
ღ an: based off of this fic title game request (thank you to whoever sent it in) it’s been edited and a little has been added to it. This can be read as a standalone.
Warnings: You're might get really frustrated with Jungkook's behavior. You've been warned.
Summary: You ruin the surprise he has planned for you and it's entirely his fault. Alternatively, Jungkook's silent treatment backfires terribly.
Silent Treatment Series Masterlist.
“Jungkook,” you whined. “Please, don’t ignore me.”
Jungkook simply walked away from the couch, appearing to be too absorbed in his phone to listen to what you had to say. He entered the kitchen and walked around aimlessly for a few seconds, thinking of what to eat.
“Jungkook…”
He heard your voice float towards him but he paid no attention, settling for some instant noodles and putting up the water to boil in the kettle.
“You know I was only joking, right?”
He did, but he wanted you to suffer a little more. So he continued to ignore you.
“I didn’t mean it, Jungkook. I’m really sorry.”
Your voice was much closer now, and a subtle turn to pick up his phone from the tabletop indicated him that you were standing by the entrance. He slipped his phone into his pocket, tearing open the cover over the cup and pouring in boiling hot water. After mixing it slightly, he covered it and carried it with him, walking past you and turning away so that he doesn’t touch you on his way out.
“Jungkook…” he heard you whisper, your hand reaching out for his arm. He brushed it off easily, continuing to make his way to the bedroom. He knew you were at least four steps behind him, so as soon as he entered the room, he closed the door. He didn’t lock it, but somehow he knew that you wouldn’t cross that line.
On the other side of the door, you sighed in defeat, resting your hand against the wood and looking down at your feet. It was a foolish mistake, you admit it.
A few days ago, Jungkook and Taehyung had left the practice room to get some lunch and the rest of the boys were getting bored so you all had decided to place the game of numbers. The referee would randomly call out a number and people had to form teams of that many numbers while the only one alone would be the loser. It was all fun and games until Yoongi said ‘two’ just as Jungkook had entered, only to see you and Hoseok run to each other, his arms opening out to catch you before someone else did.
And that’s how Jungkook witnessed you jumping into Hoseok’s arms right in front of his eyes. It was a weird embrace too; considering the fact that you had leaped into Hoseok’s arms so naturally, your feet were off of the ground and around his waist, and the excitement of having found a partner while Namjoon was left out made the two of you cling to each other even more. Jungkook was low-key embarrassed, to say the least, especially since he couldn’t defend himself because it was his hyung that was involved.
He also felt a burst of insecurity burn through him each time an image of you in his hyung’s arms flashed across his mind yet he didn’t have the heart to face you; considering the fact that he was still upset with you.
You couldn’t do much except for apologizing and telling him you never really meant it and that it was simply a game, but Jungkook didn’t seem to be buying any of it. He’d carry on with his daily activities normally, eat dinner with you sitting next to him, fall asleep on the same bed as you, but he’d never pay attention to anything you’d have to say. He’s either be on his phone, or too absorbed in some TV show that would be playing, and to say that it made you feel bad would be an understatement.
Hoseok, too, knew that it was just for fun and neither of you thought of it any other way. He thought it was extremely petty for Jungkook to be ignoring you for that reason, but he respected his boundaries and didn’t feel the need to step in the middle and work things out between the two of you, especially since it was him that was involved. If there was a way you could go back in time to undo what had happened that day, you would do it in a heartbeat. But it didn’t seem like things would get any better anytime soon.
~
Jungkook finally walked into the bedroom half-past two in the morning, the fresh scent of his shampoo reaching you and making you sigh. The room was dark except for the little white glow from the streetlights outside the window, the air conditioner making the room cold and cozy. You were already lying in bed with the blanket pulled up to your chin, watching intently as Jungkook took off the towel from his shoulders and draped it over the chair for it to dry. He walked to his cupboard, pulling out a plain white t-shirt and pulling it over his body, stretching his muscles a little before walking towards the bed.
He sat down with a sigh, pulling his leg up and massaging it lightly to ease the tension in his ankle. He didn’t even spare you a glance, sliding further into the comfort of the duvet and lying flat on his back, one arm reaching up to cover his eyes with the curve of his elbow.
“Jungkook?”
He remained silent, soft breaths making his chest rise and fall visibly. Your hand slid across the bed, blindly making its way into Jungkook’s palm. He didn’t respond to your touch, neither did he take it away, making you close your eyes sadly. His palm laid limp within your grasp, fingers straight and careful not to touch your hand any more than he already was.
“Let me just hold your hand, okay?” you whispered into the air, feeling like your hopes were floating away with the silence that carried forward the one-sided conversation.
“I know you’re upset, I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I get you. Just… let me hold your hand for a bit. I miss you.”
His measured breaths were all you got in response. Your teeth caught your bottom lip in its grip, eyes burning with tears that you had held in for too long. You missed him terribly, there was no doubt in that. But if this was the most you could get from him, you wouldn’t complain.
“I know that you’re mad, but it won’t be for too long, right?”
Jungkook felt himself frown under his arm, focusing on every word of yours and noticing the crack in your voice.
“My birthday is in two days, we’d be fine by then, right?”
He wanted to respond to you and somehow ask you to simply rest peacefully because he did actually have something planned, but he stayed silent. He didn’t want to ruin his surprise for you, especially since he was still a little upset about everything. So he decided to play it cool and not respond to you.
He heard you sigh sorrowfully, his heart clenching at the sound.
“I love you.”
Jungkook felt his chest freeze, contemplating whether or not he should respond. He knew he was being petty and childish and he really did love you, but admitting that in the midst of his anger was not as easy as he thought it would be. He didn’t want to let go of everything just yet. He wanted to swirl around in his embarrassment and anger a little more. But still, that didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He loved you a lot and maybe just telling you that would not be that big of a deal.
So just as Jungkook took in a deep breath with a genuine ‘I love you too,’ at the tip of his tongue, he felt you slip your hand out of his, and with two quick movements, you had turned to sleep the other way, your back now facing him. Jungkook froze completely, suddenly overcome with guilt knowing that he was now intentionally hurting you.
His hands itched to just slip under the duvet and over your hips to pull you against him, but he was afraid he’d break completely and let you know about the surprise he had planned for you. So he stayed the way he was, one arm still over his eyes and the other lying flat where you had held it a few moments ago, willing himself to listen to the sounds of your breathing to lull him into a peaceful sleep.
~
Jungkook had almost walked over to you and asked you to follow him for lunch so that he could spend some time with you before your birthday night. He wanted to apologize for the way he had been behaving with a suggestion to just leave everything behind and move on so that you could wear the dress that he had bought for you.
Almost.
That was until he watched Hoseok smile brightly when you entered and enveloped you in a bear hug. He watched as your eyes crinkled happily at the touch of his hyung, a little laugh of glee escaping the two of you before he took you under his arm and guided you to the table where everyone was seated.
Jungkook felt his anger flare up in an instant, fingers clenching around the phone that he was holding and dark eyes following every move of yours. The boys greeted you and gestured for you to take a seat, but Hoseok made sure you sat in the chair right next to his. Jungkook had decided to simply walk out of the room, that was until Namjoon spotted him and called for Jungkook to join the rest of the team.
Whether it was fate or a mere coincidence, Jungkook couldn’t help but scowl at the only empty chair that was reserved for him. A chair right next to yours. You seemed to love the idea of Jungkook sitting beside you, so you happily patted the seat and gestured for him to come settle down. The members broke out into a loud and messy conversation about the menu almost instantly, the loud noise making Jungkook and you both feel as though you both were the only ones who had each other’s attention.
Jungkook didn’t find it in him to make someone stand up so that he could sit away from you, neither could he spot a spare chair somewhere around the room, so with a little pout that played at his lips, Jungkook walked over and sat beside you.
“Hi,” you grinned at him.
He nodded a little, looking to the side and trying to occupy himself with the conversation that the boys were engaged in.
“Jungkook,” he heard you call out to him with a poke to his arm. “Tomorrow’s my birthday!”
Jungkook blinked for a moment, deep in thought, before nodding slightly again. You felt your heart drop at his indifferent attitude, slumping a little in your seat and playing with your fingers. In your mind, you knew that Jungkook would soon be fine and he probably had something planned for tonight to bring in your birthday, so you decided to not get too worked up by his attitude.
When the food arrived, you happily took the biggest piece of meat from your bowl and placed it over Jungkook’s bowl of rice while he wasn’t looking. You knew how much he loved meat, especially when you give him a piece from your own plate.
Usually, Jungkook would respond by taking that same piece of meat and splitting it into two so that he would give you half of it, along with a generous amount of whatever side dish was closest to him, but this time, Jungkook simply looked at the piece of meat, caught it with his chopsticks and placed it to the side of his plate before proceeding to eat a spoonful of rice with the beef soup.
Your eyes began to sting with tears, looking down at your bowl of food and swallowing thickly. You really didn’t want to cry here, especially in front of the boys, so you began to eat slowly, spoon after spoon to push down the lump in your throat. The food was good but you were soon made aware of the appetite that you had lost, so you simply began to mix the contents in your bowl with a slight frown.
Jungkook noticed, of course. He felt really bad that he was making you feel horrible, but with a quick glance to his pocket, Jungkook remembered that tonight, everything would be alright. He would bring out the letters that he had made for you, not just his but also personalized handwritten letters by each of the boys and your parents who lived far away. He even bought something for you that he knew you longed for, a brilliant beige Yamaha guitar that you once had but it had broken at the neck a few years ago.
He had many more gifts if he was being honest, all hidden away in his studio. He was waiting for you to leave for work so that he could take them back to the apartment, but he didn’t consider the fact that you had taken the weekend off to spend time with everyone on your birthday. He knew he had to take back the gifts soon so that he would have some time to set up the apartment with the little fairy lights and balloons that he had in the trunk of his car, but now that you were here – along with the rest of the boys – he found it difficult to leave.
It was so obvious that Jungkook wanted to avoid you at all costs, so just when Jungkook’s manager walked in, he scrambled out of his chair and followed the man out without a single word. Your eyes trailed over his back when he was walking away, too upset to even call out for him. You get that he was mad, but it was going to be your birthday in less than twelve hours. You wanted to be on good terms with your boyfriend and have a peaceful evening with him. Was it too much to ask for?
~
Eight hours later, Jungkook plops down onto the couch, exhausted and in desperate need of a shower. He finished cleaning up the entire house, washing the dishes, drying them, and placing them back in their respective drawers and cupboards, wiping the counters twice with a wet sponge before doing it again with a dry cloth until every surface sparkled.
He cleared out the fridge, scrubbing the corners and dumping stale food into the bin – washing those dishes as well – arranging all the items in a way that was pleasing to the eye before filling the rest of the fridge with the groceries that he bought. It was mostly snacks and that disappointed him, but the sight of the fridge filled with a row of green beer cans and the massive cardboard box that sat proudly in the middle row – your cake – brought a smile to his face.
Jungkook had also changed all the bed sheets and pillow covers to every mattress and cushion in the house, vacuuming the floors and moping it down until they showed him his own reflection in them. He dusted the windows and wiped down the TV and speakers with a cloth, lighting several scented candles along the way that filled the house with a pleasant fragrance that could make anyone sigh in satisfaction.
After all of his work, something that he knew would make you very happy, Jungkook proceeded to place all of the gifts in the corner of the living room, the guitar standing against the wall in a massive black case that had your name engraved onto the front. Jungkook felt proud, to say the least, and a quick glance at the clock made him jump up and rush to the shower.
You’d be home in an hour.
~
Forty-five minutes later, Jungkook finally made it to the living room, dressed up in a pair of black trousers and a brown cardigan, his hair styled to the side and his face glistening with the serum that he had applied over his freshly shaved skin. He smelt good too, that much he would allow himself to praise, a mild scent that made him smile because he knew that you enjoyed burying your nose into the crook of his neck and simply staying there to comment how much he smelt like home to you.
With a sigh, Jungkook plopped onto the couch, groaning as he stretched his legs out for the first time since the morning. The house was too satisfying to look at so instead of occupying himself with the internet, Jungkook kept looking around at every little thing that he had done with a proud smile. The yellow fairy lights were all over the gifts corner, hanging beautifully over the guitar case and lighting up the rest of the boxes that were sitting next to similarly colored cushions.
Jungkook had asked Jimin and Taehyung to keep you busy while he set up the house, so he quickly pulled out his phone for the first time that evening to check if the boys had said anything that was out of the ordinary. And of course, that’s exactly what he found.
Jiminie Hyung
6:54 PM: (Y/n) just left, she said she was feeling unwell. Let me know if I can help.
7:03 PM: me and Tae followed her out to the main gate and she took a different route?? Is she headed home? Text me when she reaches.
7:46 PM: Taehyung just called her because we haven’t heard from either of you and she said she’s gonna stay out tonight? What’s going on?
8:14 PM: Jungkook where are you?! Have you heard from her? She’s not answering our calls now!
8:27 PM: Have you fallen into a ditch or something? I’m worried now, neither of you are answering. Call me back ASAP!
Taehyungie Hyung:
7:50 PM: Why is (Y/n) not bringing in her birthday at home? Is it because of the fight?
8:28 PM: Jungkook are you alright? Where are you?
9:12 PM: Hoseok hyung is here, he’s worried too. Should we go looking for her?
Hobi hyung:
9:10 PM: What’s going on?
9:25 PM: (Y/n) just texted me and asked me not to go looking for her. Have you gotten in touch with her?
Jungkook almost lost his breath after opening each chat and just as he was about to call Jimin up, a new text made him freeze.
Baby:
Just now: I’m going out. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your hair until tomorrow night. I don’t want to spend my birthday with my boyfriend ignoring me. I’m safe, so don’t come looking for me. Take Care.
Jungkook felt his blood run cold, frantic fingers about to type a message when the three dots on the bubble made him pause.
Baby:
I’m sorry for everything.
With a frustrated yell, Jungkook shot right off of the couch, one hand in his hair while the other held the phone close to his face. He re-read the message over six times, his eyes burning with tears and pulling at his styled hair until it was a mess.
“Ugh!” he grunted, pursing his lips and looking at the floor aimlessly. Your birthday was in less than three hours and Jungkook had no idea where you were. Jungkook knew that you couldn’t have known about the surprise that he had planned for you, neither did you have any way to know that Jungkook wouldn’t have ignored you on your birthday. His stomach clenched painfully at the thought that you felt the need to stay away from him on your birthday because you thought he wouldn’t talk to you.
He stood frozen for a moment, eyes brimming with tears and a trembling hand that held his phone. What was he supposed to do now?
~
Four hours in and Jungkook cannot hold back his tears anymore. He tries to wipe them away so that he can focus on the road and not meet with an accident but all he could think of was that he wasn’t the first person to wish you. He didn’t even know if anyone had wished you yet but he wanted to pull you into his arms the moment the digits on the clock changed to 12:00 AM and tenderly place the softest kiss on your forehead. He didn’t get to do that; neither did he get to simply wish you a happy birthday because you had turned your phone off.
Jungkook had also been driving around for the past four hours. He drove past most restaurants near the complex, stopped at every bus and train station to see if you were waiting there, asked the boys to ask all of your friends because he really didn’t want to meet with an accident on the day of your birthday, so he was almost constantly on a call with at least one of the members.
All of them were worried sick and Hoseok had already begun to scold Jungkook over the phone for treating you so badly and driving you away, and Jungkook knew that his hyung was not wrong. So instead of defending himself, he simply whimpered at every yell and wiped his tears repeatedly whenever he thought back to the saddened look on your face whenever he had ignored you.
Swiping his tongue over his wet lips, he sniffled and turned onto the highway, not knowing where to go from there. He was about to call Namjoon and ask him if he was able to get in touch with any of your friends when an incoming call made him freeze.
(Y/n)’s Dad
Jungkook swallowed thickly, wanting to stop at the side but not knowing how because he was on the expressway already, so with a shake of his head, he picked up the phone and put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Jungkook?”
“Yes sir, it’s me.”
“Where are you?”
“Uh…” Jungkook looked out the window briefly. “I uh… I was actually on my way to your place.”
“Good, she’s waiting for you. Come safe.”
Before Jungkook could even make sense of his words, the line got disconnected and a tense silence made his ears ring. You were safe. You were at your parent’s place. You were waiting for him.
He highly doubted if the last part was true but Jungkook couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that you were safe and that he knew where you were. He would reach you in half an hour and Jungkook was overcome with a fresh set of tears that made him want to curl up on his seat and simply sob into his knees.
He hated what he did to you. He hated how he made you feel. He hated himself for that. And he knew that he had to make it up to you, no matter what.
~
The second Jungkook’s eyes land on you, he rushes through the front door without a second glace to your mother who had opened the door for him, falling onto his knees and holding onto your waist. You sat frozen on the couch, wide eyes looking down at him as his shoulders shook with each cry, his fingers tightening around the material of your dress and pulling you closer.
“Jungkook?”
“How could you leave?” He sat up in a flash, staring up at you with bloodshot eyes. “How could you leave hours before your birthday? You know I wanted to be the first one to wish you.”
You sighed, not wanting to respond to him. A sorrowful tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and you reached out to wipe it away.
“Did you really think I would ignore you on your birthday? Am I that heartless?”
In the corner, your parents slowly closed the door to their room to give you both some privacy.
Your lips rolled into a straight line before you finally nodded.
“I did.”
His face scrunched up at your answer, dropping his head onto your thighs and crying softly into his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I would’ve never ignored you, (Y/n), especially on your birthday. Please, I hope you know that.”
“You ignoring me even when it’s not my birthday hurts me as well, Jungkook,” you whispered.
Jungkook cursed at himself, gripping the sides of your knees and sliding further onto the floor until he was seated flat on his butt.
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
He looked up at you with hopeful eyes that were tired and exhausted, slowly pulling your hands into his own and bringing them up to his lips.
“Happy birthday.”
A dry chuckle made its way through your chest. “Thanks.”
“I wasn’t the first one to wish you, right?” He gulped. You nodded.
“My parents wished me, of course. That’s why I came here. I knew they would wish me.”
Because I didn’t know if you would.
You didn’t say it but you didn’t really have to because Jungkook knew what you were hinting at. So with a sad sigh, Jungkook kissed your knuckles again. “Happy birthday, my love.”
You nodded again, “Thank you, Jungkook.”
“I had everything planned for you,” he murmured, resting his head against your knees. “I had so much to show you and I really wanted to apologize for how childish I was the past few days. I wanted to give you the best kiss of your life as soon as the clock struck twelve and feed you so much cake and food until your stomach would literally burst.”
“Oh, really?” You felt pleasantly relieved to know that.
“Yes. It made me feel like shit when you turned your phone off. I couldn’t even wish you properly.”
“That was the whole point, Jungkook,” you chuckled lightly. “I didn’t want you to come looking for me, but my dad went and called you without me knowing. It made me feel – I don’t know – betrayed.”
He swallowed thickly. “You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t,” you nodded. Jungkook frowned deeply, his eyes glazing over with tears.
“Oh.”
“But I don’t hate the idea as much, now that you’re here.”
It was surprising how quickly his expression changed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled for the first time that evening. “Really?”
You laughed a little. “Yeah.”
“Would you wanna come back home? I have so much planned.”
Your eyes sparkled with an unknown feeling. “You do?”
“I was planning it even before any of this happened,” Jungkook ran his thumb over your knuckles. “I really wanted your birthday to be the most amazing one you’ve ever had.”
“I guess I ruined your plan, huh.”
“No!” He shook his head. “No, don’t say that. None of this is your fault. It’s mine. I want to make all of this better, would you give me a chance to make you feel like this could still be the best birthday ever?”
You giggled at the desperation in his voice. “Hmm… I don’t know.”
“Please,” he pleaded, getting up onto his knees. “I want to make things better. I want to apologize properly and treat you right.”
“Oh my god Jungkook,” you gasped, slapping his shoulder lightly. “You don’t need to do all of that. We can just go home, don’t worr-”
“I do need to do it, (Y/n),” he frowned. “I really need to do it. You’re so precious to me and I made you feel otherwise.”
“Shh-”
“No. You have to let me. Please.”
“Jungkoo-”
“I love you.”
You smiled softly, settling back against the sofa and pulling his hands up to hold them in yours. “I know you do, you dork.”
“I love you so much.”
Your smile grew into a grin. “I know.”
“(Y/N)!” Jungkook gasped. “You’re supposed to say ‘I love you too’!”
“Am I now?” you smirked.
“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded cutely.
“Maybe I should get you back for the four days you never told me that you loved me.”
“Baby,” he whined softly. “I’m sorry, please don’t do this to me. It wasn’t easy for me to stay away from you either.”
“Looked like a cakewalk to me, to be honest.”
“It wasn’t,” he assured you. “It was really tough for me, trust me.”
“Right.”
“I love you.”
You nodded with a smile. “I know.”
“I love you,” he bent to kiss your hands again. “I love you.”
“Jungkook what-”
He shot up, placing a quick kiss to your jaw and coming up to your eye level, face to face with you. “I love you.”
“Jung-”
He kissed your lips before you could finish. “I love you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing against his shoulders playfully. “My parents are in the next room!”
“I love you.”
“Jungkook!”
He shook his head. “I love you.”
“Oh my goodness-”
“I love you.”
“Okay okay!” you giggled. “I love you too.”
“AH!” Jungkook squealed, pushing himself up and tugging at your arms until you were up and in his arms as well. He picked you up to twirl you around, both of your giggles mixing together and filling the room with a light cloud of happiness.
“She loves me too!”
“Get a room!” you heard your dad scream from the other side of their door, making the two of you collapse against the couch in a fit of laughter.
“Ah,” he sighed after a few moments, reaching for your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.
“Happy Birthday, baby.”
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smiled. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“Always, my love. Always.”
He stared at you lovingly before reaching across and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.
► Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah…once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.
► Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Workplace Romance!AU
