Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?
Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc
A/n: I'm sorry this update is a little shorter than the others! I think thematically it made sense to separate them this way. Also I swear I did not mean to post this on beastie-writes 😪 so I'm sorry if that threw anybody off! I made the update and saw my draft was saved under the wrong name and didn't want to start over. The other chapters will continue on sopebubbles!
A/n 2: I am re-posting this chapter because t*mblr did a t*mblr thing and deleted @/beastie-writes, where this chapter was originally posted. It's not new. Now back to our regular programing.
Warnings: angst and lots of feeling (hopefully good ones too!!)
Word count: 3.8K
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It was easy to fall into a routine at the Bangtan house. You’d wake up in the morning, grab something to eat and chat with Jungkook by the poolside before he left with Namjoon to fulfill their duties. Then you’d “go for a walk” around the house. You told yourself that this was to wear off some of your excess energy and become familiar with the grounds in case you needed to escape, but the fact that your walk ended every day with you finding Yoongi was not lost on either of you.
Yoongi was endeared to see the way you would shuffle and stare at your feet, asking him what he was up to when what you really wanted was to sit on the couch and watch dramas together. You may not have wanted to take him away from his work or maybe you just weren’t in the habit of asking for what you wanted, but regardless of you never expressing your wish, Yoongi was always happy to be the first one to offer.
“Do you want to finish watching that drama from yesterday?” he’d ask, watching your face brighten as you’d nod eagerly. “Lemme finish up here and you can go grab Jimin.”
And you would. Because their roles rarely required them to leave the grounds, Jimin and Yoongi became your natural drama buddies. Every afternoon you’d pile on the couch together while Yoongi gathered snacks. They always seemed to be able to spare a couple of hours for you. Even Jimin, who at first seemed apprehensive around you, was showing signs of enjoying your company.
Jimin started sitting closer to you on the couch and offering you some of his snacks. He liked to look up fan theories on his phone while you guys watched and would often share them with you and ask your opinion about them after each episode.
But Jimin noticed the way you never closed the distance when you sat near him on the couch, how you kept your muscles tense even as Yoongi catered to you. There was a calculation in your movements so that even as you were at-ease in your body language, you were never quite relaxed. Jimin wondered if he was contributing to your tension. He thought he was demonstrating his acceptance of you, but maybe he needed to do more.
“Val, do you want to cuddle?” Jimin asked one afternoon while you were both waiting for Yoongi to bring snacks.
The question caught you completely by surprise, your face heating with embarrassment, “I…um…”
“You don’t have to,” Jimin added nonchalantly. “I just thought it would help.”
“What would help?” Yoongi asked, setting the popcorn down in front of you.
“Us cuddling with Val.”
“And that would help with what exactly?” You kept your face to the paused screen in front of you, not trusting yourself to look at either of the men giving you their full attention.
Jimin shrugged, “You just hold yourself like someone who’s been rejected, but we’re not rejecting you. So I thought maybe us holding you would make you realize we’re not rejecting you.”
Yoongi chuckled awkwardly. Jimin’s brand of matter-of-fact honesty always toed the line of refreshing and uncomfortable. Jimin was sharply attuned to people’s body language, but not in predicting how his words could make other people feel. “There’s no pressure. You don’t have to,” Yoongi offered kindly, giving you an out.
“It…it might be nice,” you whispered shyly. You thought back to the tender touches and closeness you shared with Taehyung and how nice it used to feel. But back then, it always led to something more. “Only cuddling, right?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jimin shrugged again, leaving the implication that you could want more hanging in the air.
“Only cuddling. And if you want to stop, just tell us you want to stop,” Yoongi assured.
“Okay,” you agreed, feeling awkward about what to do next.
Jimin scooted closer to you, tapping on his chest, “Go ahead, snuggle up. I’m softer than Yoongi-hyung.”
Yoongi scoffed and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you curled up against Jimin’s chest. He was comfy and warm, smelling of clean laundry as he let his arm hang lazily around you.
“You can lay out your legs across mine,” Yoongi suggested, scooting closer to you and Jimin. You were still a little worried as you stretched yourself across Yoongi, but he gave you a reassuring pat. “It’s like I have a Val blanket,” he giggled.
You could have laughed at that too, lost in the giddiness of how cozy you felt. But instead, you hummed in acknowledgement, already being lulled by Jimin’s heartbeat and the warmth of his chest.
Jimin glanced down to see you completely slack against him, eyes heavy as your breath evened. He smirked, satisfied that he had finally gotten you to relax as he started to play with your hair, earning a happy sigh from you.
>>>>
“You look rested,” Jin mentioned, as he finished chopping up some green onion. His usual “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied around him while he reached for mushrooms to chop.
Your stomach swirled with uneasiness as you thought back to how you fell asleep on Jimin’s chest during your afternoon cuddle session. You’d woken up to a gentle nudge from Yoongi, your fists clenched tightly in Jimin’s shirt and a small drool stain where you had rested your head on Jimin’s chest. Jimin was unbothered, and rather amused to see how relaxed you had been, but the thought of you letting go of your well-practiced control, even for a moment, unsettled you. You made a quick apology and excused yourself to help Seokjin, who had started the habit of coming over to make dinner in the evenings.
“What’re you making?” You asked, pointedly ignoring his comment and hopping up on the stool across from him.
“Doenjang-jjigae,” Jin answered with a happy hum, expertly cutting up the vegetables in front of him. Having watched him for several days now, this was not the first time you wondered what other skills Jin wielded with a knife.
“Jjigae? Is that stew?” You guessed.
Jin nodded, “It’s made with a soy-bean paste. It’s a pretty common dish.”
You gave a thoughtful hum, but said nothing more.
“Is something bothering you?” Jin asked, combining the vegetables together. “Normally by this point you’re asking how you can help and taking it upon yourself to add seasoning to everything. Yesterday I nearly had to wrestle you to the ground to prevent you from dumping a whole tub of gochujang into the japchae.”
“Gochujang is good though,” you grumbled, poking at a bit of mushroom that rolled across the counter.
“Yaeya, dong-uihae! But the secret to good japchae is the right balance of soy sauce and brown sugar and I have been perfecting that balance for decades.”
“You’re not that old.”
“I started young. Do you think I let my mother eat bad japchae after I was conceived? No! She had terrible morning sickness because of me and lots of bad japchae,” Seokjin was basically shouting as he dumped the vegetables into the bubbling broth.
You laughed heartily, hands covering your face at Jin’s overzealousness. With a spirit like his, you imagine his mother probably did get indigestion.
“Why’re you always coming over here to cook dinner if you have your own place?” You asked once your laughter subsided.
“I asked you a question first.”
“I’m ignoring it.”
Seokjin shrugged as if to say “suit yourself” before responding, “Namjoon asked me to. He wants to make sure you stay well-nourished and I’m the best cook in the bunch, so…” he gestured openly with his arms, “here I am.”
“No offense, but you don’t really seem like the type to follow orders,” you mused.
“None taken,” he replied, focusing now on on the slow-cooked beef from the oven. The smells in the kitchen were starting to blend together and permeate the air, making your stomach rumble inaudibly. “There’s no shame in following orders. Plus, I get to enjoy your company.”
You pouted, unsatisfied and hungry, “I don’t believe you.”
“That there’s no shame in following orders or that I enjoy your company?”
“Both.”
“Well, the most powerful thing you can do is believe you have power in the first place; regardless of if you’re on the giving or receiving end of orders,” Seokjin explained, putting the beef into the stew and lowering the temperature on the stove to a simmer. You grunted, still not impressed. Power was power in your mind. You either took what was yours or you didn’t. “And as far as your company,” Seokjin continued. “It’s a tragedy you’re the last to know, but you’re kinda cool to hang out with.”
“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “All I do is sit around all day.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened dramatically and, putting a hand to his mouth, he gasped in mock-horror, “I hadn’t considered that. I guess I am having a terrible time.”
“Cállate, pendejo,” you laughed.
“Once I figure out what that means, I’ll have a very witty comeback,” Seokjin grinned, wagging a finger at you. “Go get the others, dinners ready.”
>>>>>>>
You wouldn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed the cacophony of the Bangtan dinner table. So often you were left to eat dinner either by yourself or, on rare occasions, with Joaquin, that you weren’t sure how everyone could be so noisy and chew their food at the same time. Even just the hums and moans they made as they ate and complimented the food made the meals loud even without active conversation. It seemed like every meal was the best meal they ever ate. And to be fair, every meal was delicious. Perhaps Seokjin really was the best cook in the bunch, though you hadn’t tried everyone else’s cooking to compare it.
You liked to sit next to Yoongi during dinner. Partly because Yoongi was good at loading your plate while explaining what you were eating and how to eat it. But mostly because, even if you were still embarrassed from earlier, Yoongi always had a way of making you feel safe and unjudged.
“Keep your thumb steady and only move your pointer finger. And remember, we have forks,” Yoongi advised as he watched your kimchi sliding off your chopsticks again and again.
“She’s got it, she’s got it,” Hoseok chanted in Korean. You were sticking your tongue out a bit in concentration, studying carefully with furrowed brows as the red piece of cabbage made it to your lips. The entire table erupted in applause and you scooted your chair back to stand up and take a bow.
“To Val!” Namjoon cheered, raising a shot glass of soju, the other men echoing “To Val!” as they downed their shot.
When you plopped back into your chair, you reached for Yoongi’s hand on the table and while everyone was laughing and carrying on you whispered, “Thank you for always looking out for me, Oppa.”
Your heart swelled while you watched his ears turn red, “Always,” he whispered back, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
The dinner continued on in a light-hearted, joyous mood with little talk of Bangtan’s work life or your dire predicament. You tried to let yourself be lulled by the conversation, but the unease you were familiar with was back, bubbling up through your stomach and clawing its way to your throat. You kept quiet though, looking out over the table, listening to the blend of Korean and English around you, wondering when they might confront you about earning your keep or when they might get sick of taking care of you and ask you to leave. No one could really be that impressed with your ability to use chopsticks. It was silly and stupid and everyone else could do it anyway, so why did they need to pretend on your behalf? Were they setting you up for something? Trying to gain your trust? You became acutely aware of how you had slumped in your chair and were no longer contributing to the conversation. Were you killing the mood? Were the boys aware of how untrusting you were? Would they care? Your eyes settled on the empty spot where Taehyung still failed to show up for dinner. He wasn’t there because you didn’t want to see him. You knew that. You had asked for this space and he was giving it to you. It was kind, more kind than you were used to or expected. Everything here was. But why did it feel ominous now? Where was the catch?
“Excuse me,” you said, standing up with a polite smile before you finished your plate. “Everything was delicious, Seokjin, thank you.”
If anyone noticed the way your mood was faltering, no one said anything. Seokjin had been laughing at something Hoseok was telling him when he passively said, “My pleasure! It’s nice to have your moral support in the kitchen.”
“Do you need me to get you anything?” Yoongi asked, searching your face for an explanation as to why you were leaving early.
“I’m good, Oppa,” You lied. “Just a little tired.”
Yoongi nodded, “I’ll clean up your plate. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you.”
It felt like miles before you got to your bed, but when you finally reached it, you buried your face into a pillow and let yourself cry.
>>>
The light from outside your bedroom shone underneath the door creating dramatic shadows from the furniture in the room. Sitting up slowly, you blinked and rubbed your puffy eyes. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but you were grateful that it was dreamless. Unfortunately, it meant that you would have an even harder time falling back to sleep. You sighed, the heaviness of your emotions had subsided but the echo of them was still there. You let yourself be ebbed by the flow of your aimless thoughts until your mind found itself back to when you had napped earlier that day. Between Yoongi and Jimin. Against Jimin’s chest. There was no pressure or expectation in listening to Jimin breathe and the way he and Yoongi avoided clinging to you made you feel secure in the fact that you could leave whenever you wanted. It was nice and you missed it. It was warm and you wanted more.
Before you could chastise yourself for being greedy, you left the room quickly to find Jimin. You told yourself, at the very least, you could apologize for drooling on his shirt earlier. Lucky for you, no one was around as you made your way to the basement, so you could avoid explaining your true motives.
When you approached the door, you heard gunfire and shouting. Jimin was clearly yelling at his TV. You knocked on Jimin’s door tentatively.
“Fuck this, man.” Jimin grumbled from the other side of the door. The noises from the action sequence stopped suddenly as he called, “Come in!”
“I think you’re loosing your touch–” another voice teased as you opened the door to see Jimin leaning back on his couch, game controller to his left as he idly played with Taehyung’s hair and watched you come in. It took you a second to register what you were seeing. Taehyung was stretched out on the couch, head in Jimin’s lap, game controller in hand. Neither of them were wearing shirts and their sweatpants hung low around their hips. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before, but you still looked away. “Sorry, if I’m interrupting something…” you trailed off, rubbing your arm to get rid of the goosebumps.
“No, no,” Taehyung shot off of Jimin’s lap and to his feet. “I’m sorry. I can leave, it’s getting late anyway–”
“It’s okay,” you said, finding his eyes to show him you meant it. “You can stay. It’s, um…Nice to see you.” Even this small confession left your heart aching in your chest. After everything that happened, you hoped Taehyung didn’t hate you, but you also hoped you wouldn’t have to explain yourself tonight. “Please stay.”
Jimin watched the two of you, not sure of what to make of the exchange. He ultimately decided it wasn’t his responsibility to figure out why the two of you looked so uncomfortable, so instead he said, “Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you answered, sheepishly. Now that you were actually in Jimin’s space, your plan felt very silly.
“What happened earlier?” Jimin said, confused. He was genuinely unaware of something you had done wrong and you had never visited him before, so all of this seemed highly uncalled for.
“When I drooled on you…” You replied, feeling more and more embarrassed by the moment.
“Oooh,” Jimin realized. “Oh that? It’s fine. Sometimes people drool when they’re relaxed. I think it’s kind of nice.”
“Did you guys play together?” Taehyung asked, trying to hide his shock.
“Play together?” You echoed, having no idea what Taehyung meant.
“Nah, she fell asleep on my chest and drooled on my shirt,” Jimin said easily. “I have an extra controller. Do you want to play with us?”
You looked at the screen with the words Call of Duty across the top, “I’ve never played video games before.”
“This wouldn’t be a good one to start with then,” Jimin thought out loud. “You guys should sit down. I’m gonna get the Switch so we can play Mario Kart. I’ll be right back.”
Jimin stretched as he stood up, cracking his neck as he did so, and briskly walked out of the room, leaving you and a shirtless Taehyung standing in the middle of the room, dim lighting letting the weight of each other’s presence be known.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay?” Taehyung asked hesitantly.
“Yes, but could you put on a shirt please?”
“Right,” Taehyung said, suddenly embarrassed. You turned your eyes to him, watching as his white tshirt fell loosely over his tanned shoulders, hiding away the muscles in his back that you once knew so well. That ache you had returned again and you were suddenly desperate for being held. Your emotions bubbled up to your throat as you struggled to swallow them back, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to be soothed.
Taehyung’s heart broke as he turned back to look at you. You were only a few feet in front of him and closer than you had been in weeks, but standing there, looking so small as you held yourself away from him, he thought you were farther than ever. He wanted to kiss you again and keep you safe in his arms. He wanted to explain that when he called you his before it was only because his heart knew it found its missing piece when he met you and that he was wrong to think of himself as entitled to you and he was sorry he ever did. He was a monster in your life while you were the light in his and he was so, so sorry.
When Jimin walked into the room, he noticed that you were both on the brink of tears. He knew that you both had history with one another, but he wasn’t quite sure what could cause such a reaction when neither of you had even been talking to each other.
“Do you guys need to hug?” Jimin suggested.
“Um..” You knew your answer before Jimin had even asked the question, every nerve in your body was begging for it.
Jimin narrowed his eyes like he had formed some conclusion while observing you, “I think you guys need to hug.”
“Please,” you had barely gotten the word out when Taehyung closed the distance and wrapped his arms around you. Breathing in the familiar scent broke the last defense you had in protecting yourself from your emotions. You nuzzled into his chest and let the tears fall from your face, feeling a wetness against your shoulder as Taehyung buried his face in your neck.
Taehyung tried not to squeeze you too tight despite the overwhelming sense of relief he felt with having you in his arms. He told himself that even if this was all you were willing to give him for the rest of your life, he would accept it. He would never again ask for more than what you were willing to give. His shoulders shook as he wept against you and eventually he felt you rubbing his back, still not moving away or asking him to let go.
Jimin was content to let the moment continue for as long as you both needed, seeing that there was a lot that you guys needed to process even if neither of you had words for it yet.
Eventually, your tears had stopped and you whispered gentle shushing against Taehyung, feeling warmth spread throughout your body at feeling the weight of him in your arms. Slowly, he pulled himself away from you, looking down at you with a sense of wonder that you hoped you returned in kind. Whatever the embrace had done for you, it appeared Taehyung had needed it just as desperately.
“Do you guys still want to play Mario Kart?” Jimin asked, already moving to set up the switch as if you had said yes.
You giggled wetly, still high from your relief, “Sure.”
Taehyung also laughed, a little awkwardly as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
Jimin turned back to the two of you, noticing something he had missed before, “Do I need to put on a shirt too?”
“If you don’t mind,” You said.
“I’ll wear a fuzzy shirt so you can lay against me again,” Jimin announced. “I think you like cuddling.”
You had experienced too many emotions today to be embarrassed anymore or try to deny it, so instead you nodded, “I think you’re right.” You turned to Taehyung. “You’ll stay and cuddle too, right?”
Taehyung could have cried again if he hadn’t already drained himself of all of it. He sniffled, happily, “If you want me to.”
“I want you to,” You assured, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. Jimin plopped on the other side of you, wearing a fuzzy black sweater. You were all snuggled up together, you leaning into Jimin and Taehyung leaning into you. Your leg was trapped between Taehyung’s body and the couch but you wouldn’t complain. You didn’t want anything to change.
Chipper music began as the start menu loaded, looking at the tiny controller in your hand, you couldn’t help your fit of laughter.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you said, not sure if you meant the game or in general.
“Don’t worry,” Jimin said, quickly making selections on the screen before you were able to choose your own character. “We’ll help you.”
a/n: this is the start of everything and i really cannot stand how sweet they are. please listen to the song to get a better feel for the emotions running through yn’s head. I know this isn’t a very long written part, but I think the scene fits perfectly. lemme know what you guys think after you read!!
song: Gorgeous by Taylor Swift
Masterlist
The two of you had always been this way. Always wanting to spend time together regardless of whether you’d already seen each other 5 times that week. It was movie nights and sleepovers in Jeongguk’s room, late night pizza parties in yours, and everything in between.
Originally there had been nothing there, just a pure, loving friendship of the best kind. However, as you’d grown into your teen years you started to realize that some of the feelings you had toward him may not be of the friend variety. Jeongguk started to change too. Although you weren’t sure if his feelings changed, the physical change he underwent was very apparent. No longer this scrawny and gangly boy, but someone with a strong jawline, defined abs, and thick thighs. Of course you knew this because in all the years you’d been friends you’d changed in front of each other at least a million times. Only turning away when when the more intimate parts of your bodies were being exposed.
Needless-to-say, it was hard not to notice the rapid change in his body.
His personality had changed a little bit too, but only in a way that made your crush for him grow even more. He used to be so shy and quiet. Always kind of keeping to himself. And while he still preferred you to other people even now, he was more outgoing and goofy than he was when he was younger.
All of that to say, it was hard to ignore the feelings of jealousy when girls at school talked to him. The pang of disappointment when he’d turn down a hang out session with you to do something else. The turmoil you went through when he’d talk to you about his crush of the year and dates he went on here and there. Although none of them ever turned into something serious, you still always felt regretful anytime he was spending a romantic evening with someone other than you.
That said, you’d invited Guk over to play minecraft with you and just chill, no school work, no talk of school at all. Just you and him playing minecraft and spending quality time together. However, he got bored about halfway through you building a new base and decided to take his laptop out to play his own games. Normally you wouldn’t care, but when he was playing with you he was sat in the same chair, cheeks almost touching, and warmth from being so close to you. Now he’s sitting on your bed cross-legged and the coolness of his body no longer next to yours is settling uncomfortably into your bones.
The idea was popping into your mind the instant you noticed he wasn’t even responding to you anymore, too focused on his game to carry on the conversation. You were going to bother him. Would it cause him to lose his game? Maybe. Would he be mad at you for it? Only for a minute or two. Would it be worth it? 100%. You couldn’t go without his attention for one more second.
Without thinking twice, you quickly get out of your chair and leap onto the bed, effectively tackling him in the process. He quickly moves his laptop out of the way so as not to let you break it and braces himself for the impact. You’re immediately going for his sides, knowing he’s most ticklish there. He lets out a yelp and tries to tickle you back so as to distract you from your attack. “You little brat!” he gasps out. “What?? You weren’t even t-talking to me, Guk!” the stutter falling out of your lips when he gets you where you’re most ticklish.
You started out hovering over him, but he’s shifted the position and now he’s on top of you. Desperately trying to tickle you so that you’ll stop in your tracks.
It worked.
The position he put the both of you in, having moved you with ease, has caused a shift in the air. You thought it was just you. Being this close allowing you to notice just how gorgeous he is. His brown hair flopping in front of his face, the cute bunny teeth that poke out when he’s trying to conceal his laughter, and the way his nose scrunches right before he laughs. You can’t help but be mesmerized by him. Completely lost in his chocolate brown eyes, almost twinkling when he’s looking at you. He was so cute you couldn’t stand it. All of those years of teasing him and play fighting with him leading up to this moment. You not only had a big fat crush on him, but you might also be in love.
You thought it was just you, but it wasn’t.
He felt the shift too, your faces so close to each other now, and the warmth from your bodies spreading between the two of you. Your lips just a hairs breadth away from each other. But just as quickly as you had attacked him, he’s moving off of you. “Ah, sorry yn,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck, something you know he does as a nervous habit. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, you know how I get with these games sometimes,” a light chuckle coming out of him as he avoids your gaze. You’re still lying down on the bed, your breathing still struggling to return back to normal after such close proximity to him. “Uh, it’s okay, Guk. It doesn’t matter, just wanted to spend some time with you and we are, so that’s all that really matters,” you finally move to sit up, trying to bring some normalcy back to the room.
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, which normally wouldn’t matter, silence being comfortable from years of friendship, but this time the awkwardness is palpable. Jeongguk is the first one to break the silence, “why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on while I was sucked into my round?” You’re quick to get up from the bed and bound over to your gaming chair. You always loved showing him your intricate builds or mineshafts that you’re able to clear out, skillfully evading the mobs that would spawn erratically.
With that, the energy between you guys starts to go back to normal. You two spend the rest of the evening just like that, chatting lightly and advancing in the game together. Eventually, 10pm rolls around and the two of you start to feel tired, needing to get ready to go to bed so you both can feel rested for school tomorrow morning. You walk Jeongguk to the door, “bye Gukkie. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” you say with a soft smile. “Of course, yn. I’m always down to hang out with you.” With a smile and wave, he walks across the street to his own house, and you’re left to sit in your messy feelings.
You flop back down onto your bed with a huff. What was going on with you? This crush has been going on for a while now and you’re usually able to repress your feelings enough for everything to continue as normal. This time was way different, you felt like your feelings for him were practically oozing out of you. He could probably smell the desperation on you. God, you hated how much he made you want him. Sure he was your best friend, but he wasn’t really yours to have just by default. You wished he’d be yours though, it’d make this whole ordeal a lot less painful.
Your roll over onto your stomach and groan into your pillow. Wallowing, that’s what you were going to do for the rest of the night. Felt like the right next move to you considering your predicament.
Just as you’re making a plan of turning on netflix and drowning yourself in ice cream in the dark, you hear your phone go off with a *ping.*
From gukkie:
[10:17pm] thanks for having me over. really hope you’re not mad at me for ignoring you for my game. you still seemed kind of weird when I left :/
Damn, he could read you like a book. Although, while you were feeling weird when he left, his reason for that is wrong, so you’re still able to skillfully evade confessing to him.
To gukkie:
[10:20pm] no, of course i’m not mad at you. i’m just tired is all and i hate my classes tomorrow so dread is setting in. don’t worry guk, i had a good time :)
Leaving it at that, you turn your phone on do not disturb for the rest of the night, as you usually do so you can actually make sure to get some sleep, select the kdrama you’ve been watching lately, and dig into a tub of ice cream until you’re so tired you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. You go to sleep feeling a sort of emptiness, but also not because even though you were sure Jeongguk would never like you back in that way, at least you got to keep him as your best friend. There was always comfort in that and that could keep you going, at least for a little while.
Take One | Yoongi is the greatest in his industry. Sky rocketing to fame he found himself swallowed whole by the glamour and glitz of the porn star industry. But, in the end it came with a heavy price. Now only being able to find pleasure through written word. He finds himself in a predicament he never could have expected
Pornstar!Yoongi x Fan Fiction Writer!Reader
Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Smut, Fluff
Warnings (In The Works): Masturbation, Fingering, Big Dick!Yoongi, Slight Dom!Yoongi, Degradation, Spanking, Sex Against A Wall--
Word Count (As Of Right Now): 8.2k
A/N: Again the biggest shout outs to my crew @ppersonna, @ladyartemesia, @xjoonchildx who are constantly rooting for this fic to come out. Enjoy the preview!
There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word.
He has seen so many bodies in his career. So many different women and men that he cared very little for the human form. Now, written word where he could just simply envision a woman of his choosing doing what is described in twelve font Ariel Black ink. That is where he finds his pleasure.
He found himself after a long day on set, looking for mental relief. People make fun of his job, but it's incredibly taxing on one's spirit. He tried for years and years to be not only the best porn star in his field, but the most talked about. He succeeded after not too long, one utterly embarrassing title called 'Little Cat, Bowl of Milk' skyrocketed his success and had people coming back time and time again to his profile on all the major porn sites. He began to realize that success was eating at his bones. He so often found himself not being able to cum as he fucked his co-star half way to Sunday.
It wasn't about being the greatest anymore, or having the biggest cock in the industry. It was about actually being able to cum without the prop team having to strap a tube on the underside of his cock and pump out this incredibly realistic looking paste that actually looks like jizz. It was practically degrading. And yet, Yoongi only found himself orgasming through reading.
It was a random happenstance as he was scrolling online. Just looking at a few different blogs on Tumblr before finding a link in their biography stating 'Masterlist'. Finding himself intrigued he clicked on the link, the girl with the pen name Nevermore had countless series of books. She was great at writing, truly understanding her character's complexity and portraying it in such a way that had Yoongi constantly on the edge of his seat. But above all, the sex scenes she wrote were so erotic; so completely entrancing that he began to lose himself in her stories. He had never cum harder than before he read the words she so ardently wrote.
Jumping onto his couch, his feet find their place on the arm as his hand rests beneath his head. "I wonder what's up with Kyla and Bjorn today." He whispers to himself before sipping his beer. Every day of the week waits with bated breath to be Sunday. Nevermore publishes every Sunday at 8 o'clock and Yoongi never misses it. He will even stop a late filming just to read her new chapter.
Stopping by her blog fills him with a sense of renewal. He first checks her updated page before anything else. She seemed to have an almost poetic soul within her, as if her fingers poured out earnest sentences with cryptic and riddled meaning. It's her latest post that catches his attention, first and foremost, before he can even click on the book's masterlist. He sips his beer as he peruses the post.
Coming Tuesday - Take One.
Pornstar!Min Yoongi x Reader
Author's Note: I usually research heavily for smut to make it seem the most realistic as possible. I looked into porn to get a sense of what pornstars go through day to day and came across Min Yoongi. Eajsidicjeisoc HE'S UNBELIEVABLE! So the next book will be a fan fiction based on him. And believe me when I say I'M A FAN.
Beer goes flying out of his mouth. Sitting up quickly, his eyes widened at the text. "EXCUSE ME?!" He yells loudly before putting his hand over his mouth.
Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?
Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc
A/n: heyooooo!! I am very happy to be posting this in full. I almost broke the chapter up because I didn't think that all the parts would be ready. As we move forward, please let me know if you prefer long chapters less frequently or short chapters more frequently. Maybe it won't be a problem at all, but I'm starting school again so I'm worried about managing my free time. We're not caught up to what's written yet but we might be soon *cue JAWS theme*
*cue record scratch*
*cue Looney Tunes theme* Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks. Thank you for reading and enjoy the update! ^_^
Warnings: language, gun violence/blood...I think that's the only real warning but uhhhh......buckle up....
Word count: 8K
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Yoongi woke up extra early the following morning. Ever since he had felt you so close to him, he felt like every nerve in his body was a livewire. Seeing the life within you and witnessing the depth of your strength in such small and intimate ways was one thing. Maybe, at first, he could have blamed his protective energy on his profession. You needed his tenderness and care and he was more than willing to give it. But this–this was something different. These weren’t just tender, warm, melt-inside-you kind of emotions. These were burning and aching, wanting to taste the salt of your skin emotions that Yoongi had never known before. If he had convinced himself before that his feelings for you amounted to fondness only, he was now acutely aware of what a shallow attempt it was to placate the ferocity of his desire. How was he going to contain himself in your presence knowing now what it feels like to have the curve of your ass press against him as you wiggle against Jimin unconsciously? How had he survived dinner last night, with you so close to him, knowing how much of you he wanted? And knowing that he would give even more of himself, give himself a hundred times over, to have you in his arms?
Yoongi wondered if you were still sleeping. His thoughts carelessly wandered away from him and into your bed where you’d let him press against you once again, moving hair away from your ear so he could whisper all the secrets of his heart to you and press his lips against your neck. He knew you needed your space. He knew you needed to invite him in. He knew he would never push you past what you were comfortable with, but if you would, if you could let him in, he knew what he’d find in your arms, what you were both looking for and what he hoped you might feel with him…home.
“Thinking about Val?” Jungkook called out.
Yoongi didn’t even realize he had made it to the kitchen, didn’t even see Namjoon and Jungkook at the breakfast table, sitting close with legs intertwined, clearly sharing an intimate moment that Yoongi had interrupted.
“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbled, reaching for the coffee. Namjoon scooted closer to Jungkook, pulling him on the side so that he could rest his head on his shoulder. Jungkook smiled and kissed the top of his head. They weren’t a couple that often displayed their affection. Not like Hoseok and Seokjin who were nearly inseparable. Namjoon valued personal space and privacy too much. Jungkook and Namjoon had separate rooms, though they were next to each other, but even still Jungkook occasionally would skip the comfort of his bed to sleep outside by the pool on cool nights. Jungkook liked his freedom and Namjoon respected that. Having an open relationship worked well for both of them.
Yoongi was one of the rare people, even within Bangtan’s inner circle, who Namjoon felt comfortable showing his attachment to Jungkook. They had grown up together as kids, Yoongi suffering the same control issues from his father that Namjoon did his. They had also lost both of their fathers the same night several years ago; an event that left Namjoon in charge and many people within the organization feeling bewildered but relieved. Neither of them talked about their past much. There wasn’t a need to. They understood each other, they trusted each other, and that was enough.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Namjoon said, letting Jungkook wrap his arm around him and trace designs into his shoulder. “We were thinking about her too.”
“Everyone’s thinking about her,” Yoongi acknowledged, swirling his coffee idly even though there was no cream in it.
“That’s probably true,” Namjoon agreed.
“She’s sexy,” Jungkook admitted, no hint of shame in his face.
Namjoon hummed, “That’s definitely true.”
Yoongi wondered if he should feel jealous of these men who could easily talk about how sexy you were. But the truth was, he understood it. He couldn’t blame them for wanting you in the exact way he did. Though he wondered, maybe selfishly, if anyone else experienced the same degree of torrid longing he did.
“I don’t want to scare her,” Yoongi sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m afraid of how much I want her.”
Namjoon leaned away from Jungkook, considering his friend carefully, “Have you ever had sexual feelings before, hyung?”
“I thought so,” Yoongi shook his head. “It wasn’t like this. It was never like this.”
There was a girl in college that he enjoyed. But that was it. He enjoyed her. He was happy with her, but he was happy without her. When they had slept together, it was nice, but Yoongi didn’t feel any great desire for it. He didn’t mind meeting her needs, but sex and attraction just weren’t that interesting to him.
Yoongi took another long sip of his coffee, contemplating how overwhelming it might be for you not only to receive his affection, but the affections of every man in Bangtan. What would it take for you to accept that seven different men would do anything for you? How could he or anyone convince you that every part of you was worth being accepted and cherished and praised and adored and loved?
But with you, just holding your hand was enough to keep Yoongi awake for hours at night, “It’s hard to hold myself back.”
Jungkook puffed out a laugh, “If by ‘hold yourself back’ you mean you want to stare at her like a lost puppy dog and not like some kind of wild animal that is going to mount her and breed her for your own pleasure, then I think you’re fine.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, “Not everyone is as kinky as we are, Jungkook.”
Yoongi hoped his friends didn’t catch the shiver that ran down his spine at the suggestion.
“I’m just saying you come across as kind and patient and maybe a little mopey and everyone knows you’re in love with her, but you don’t come across as intense as you make yourself sound,” Jungkook explained.
“Val will make her own decisions,” Namjoon advised. “The members will support what she wants.”
“We lost him again,” Jungkook mumbled with a nudge to Namjoon, who smiled light-heartedly at his lover.
“Sorry,” Yoongi repeated. “I was just thinking about how hard it will be for her to accept that we genuinely care about her.”
“I know,” Namjoon nodded. “But she’ll make that discovery in her own time. We know how special she is, so she’ll see it too. Even if she’ll need our help pointing it out to her.”
“She doesn’t even have to be with me, I just want her to be happy,” Yoongi’s vision blurred with his admission, but no tears fell. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t have to be with anyone from Bangtan as long as you learned to love yourself the way you deserved to be loved.
What she wants.
“Her wound is looking good and she’s getting stronger every day. I think some light exercise will be good for her.”
Yoongi realized there was something you wanted desperately and while he couldn’t offer it to you, he knew someone who could, “Jungkook, do you think you could teach Val some low-impact exercises?”
“She’s cleared for training?” Jungkook asked, surprised.
Yoongi thought back to how your shirt lifted as you snuggled against Jimin, your caramel skin exposed and allowing him to catch a glimpse of the way his stitches were nearly healed. He had gently adjusted your shirt, knowing how you were modest about exposing yourself, making you moan against Jimin in your sleep. Yoongi and Jimin had shared a pained look, but kept completely still, not wanting to risk waking you up further. Yoongi cleared his throat.
“Anything for my lovesick hyung.”
“Pilates might be good,” Jungkook wondered out loud. He looked to his partner who nodded in agreement. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”
“Thanks, Jungkook.”
You had slept in that morning, making it into your bed late after countless rounds of Mario Kart. It was hard to leave the warmth of Jimin and Taehyung, but you weren’t going to ask them to cuddle you all night long. Eventually they’d get tired of you, so you politely took your leave once your eyes started to get heavy. But, despite your drowsiness, you tossed and turned all night, leaving you cranky.
Jungkook found you in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, “Hey, Val! Do you–”
“Would it kill you guys to have some chorizo around here?” you asked, slamming the fridge shut with a heavy sigh after settling for a yellow yogurt drink you had grown to like since living here.
Jungkook considered a moment. “I can have Jin-hyung make some Korean Army Stew.”
“Does it have chorizo?” you asked skeptically.
“No,” Jungkook conceded. “But it does have some spicy sausage.”
“Hmm,” you pouted as you downed your yogurt, not seeming to notice the way some spilled out the corner of your mouth. Jungkook did his best to keep from laughing. Clearly, not being able to work out was souring your mood, but he couldn’t deny that he found your morning grumpiness endearing. You probably had a lot of excess energy you needed to release. He imagined a morning when he might be able to help you with that. A morning when maybe you wouldn’t mind if he snuck up beside you to lick away the extra yogurt as an excuse to kiss you. A morning when he could sit you up on the counter or hold you against a wall while he rutted against you and hear you beg for more, a morning he could–
“You guys eat a lot of stew,” you said absently as you tossed away the yogurt and wiped the side of your mouth. “Do you have a reason for bothering me?”
“Do you feel like working out?” Jungkook accepted being pulled away from his fantasies if it meant he could give you some good news.
“No me engañas,” You scoffed, but you were unable to hide the excitement in your voice. “You know that Yoongi won’t let me train.”
“Not train, per say. But we can definitely work to keep you strong. That is if you don’t mind learning some new–”
“I’m in. What do I need?” Your administrative tone caught Jungkook by surprise.
“Just your body. And some clothes you can stretch in.”
You wrinkled your nose. “Stretch?”
“Trust me, you’ll be convinced that it’s enough.”
At first you weren’t. The movements Jungkook showed you were regular stretches and exercises you’d use to get warmed up for boxing and your body was itching for something more. Jungkook sensed your restlessness and started suggesting more advanced poses and techniques, using your body weight to both keep yourself centered and lift yourself off the ground. Soon enough, you were working up a sweat and feeling giddy at the ache in your muscles as your body strained against itself.
“Slowly,” Jungkook stressed as he watched you do lunge squats. “You think that by doing it faster, it means you’re stronger, but your body has to work harder when your movements are controlled. Make your body work.”
“Make you work,” You grumbled, incoherently.
“What was that?” Jungkook asked, raising his pierced eyebrow at you amusingly.
“You could work out too, you know,” you suggested, trying hard to keep your movements slow and deliberate despite your back-talking.
“Do you want me to work up a sweat too?” Jungkook smiled playfully.
“Solidarity is important in an institution like this,” you asserted.
“Joon,” Jungkook greeted the leader with a smile, staying on his back as he wiped sweat from his brow, you rising and falling on his chest with heavy breaths.
Jungkook threw his head back in a gleeful chuckle before kneeling down on the ground in front of you, “I’m more than happy to work with you. Grab your left elbow with your right hand, and my right elbow with your left hand,” he instructed. Your arms made a square between you as he matched your movements of rising and falling with your squats. “Breathe. We’re not in competition with one another, the goal is to make fluid movements.”
He knew as soon as he said competition, it was a mistake, as you immediately started pushing toward him. He pushed back, struggling to keep his balance, “Wait, Val…Wait…”
It was too late, you had already tumbled on top of him, laughing wildly at your success of making him lose his balance. You didn’t even mind how his arms wrapped around you to prevent you from hitting the ground, in your eyes you had won and that was all that mattered.
Jungkook couldn’t help but also fall into a fit of laughter, half from the ridiculousness of the situation and half at how happy he was to have you so close and carefree.
There was a creak on the other side of the room.
“We have to go,” Namjoon announced, trying to keep his focus sharp despite how beautiful you and Jungkook looked, sweaty and tangled up with each other. If circumstances weren’t so dire, he would– “Some jjapsae have been sniffing around some of our warehouses. I think they’ve been tipped off.”
Your stomach dropped, you knew this was La Familia’s doing. You shuffled to your feet, trying to fight off the guilt gnawing away at you. “I can help,” you said, looking Namjoon in the eye.
The leader looked you over seriously, more for his own benefit than for yours, his eyes lingering on the way your shorts hugged your hips. But the fact of the matter was, he couldn’t let you walk into danger like that, with or without your injuries still healing. “You know I can’t do that,” he reasoned. “Even if I didn’t think this was a set up, Yoongi would have my head for putting you in action before you're cleared.”
“If you know it’s a set up, then why do you have to go?” You hated the ache in your voice. It betrayed everything you had built in your life about who you were. You had no one in your life to love and rely on other than yourself. So what if the men who opened their home to you and treated you like one of their own were in trouble because of you? Your goal was survival. Your goal was freedom. Following Bangtan into a potential turf fight gave you neither of those things. If they wanted to act out foolishly on your behalf that was their concern, not yours. Right?
“I’m not leaving my men and women out there to get arrested or killed,” Namjoon explained. “I would never put someone else in danger I’m not willing to put myself in.”
Your mind flitted over to Joaquin and all his talks of power and loyalty you had heard over the years. He had never once put action behind his words. He always made sure that someone else got their hands dirty so that he could walk away clean and unscathed. He would have jumped at the offer to use you for his business purposes. That is, if he didn’t have other ideas on how to use you…
You shook the thought out of your head, not wanting to get lost in your emotions while you needed to stay present for the night’s events. “What kind of weapons will we need?” Jungkook’s question brought you back to the moment at hand. Namjoon considered a moment before saying, “The usual stuff, maybe some explosives. I don’t want to lose any product, but if things escalate we might need to get rid of some evidence.”
You weren’t expecting to run into Hoseok on your way to reach Yoongi. Hoseok had been turning the corner too quickly for you to prevent your collision. His eyes were hard as he steadied you. “Oh,” was all you could manage. You had learned that Hoseok had two modes: playful and deadly. And he was currently operating out of the latter. The look in his eyes made you take a step back subconsciously.
Jungkook nodded, “I’ll have Taehyung pack some flame retardant suits.” He looked to you meaningfully, knowing you well enough now to know that you wouldn’t sit idly by when something like this was occurring. “You can let Yoongi know what’s happening and help him prepare medical supplies. If this goes as south as we think it might, he’ll have some burn injuries to tend to before the end of the night.” The warning didn’t make you feel better about the circumstances, but you were grateful to have a task.
“Entiendo,” You said, moving quickly to find Yoongi and leave Namjoon and Jungkook behind, not trusting the way your stomach was bubbling with concern for them.
He blinked at you, not saying anything but seeming to register your thoughts. He relaxed his expression, tension leaving his shoulders as he looked to you with sincerity, “You’ll be staying here tonight?”
You sighed, unease leaving you for frustration instead, “Boss’ orders.”
“I’m glad,” Hoseok said with an easy smile on his face.
“I’m not,” you grumbled, the anxiety making you edgy. There was nothing you could say or do to make them stay, but there was also no reason that you should want them to stay. This was their way of life. One you were familiar with. You told yourself that your stomach being in knots was because you were being excluded from the action.
“Is it so hard to believe that Bangtan wants to keep you safe?”
“Is it so hard to believe I'm not una niña patética e indefensa?” You spat, feeling sorry and hurt as you heard your harsh tone but not being able to stop yourself.
Hoseok turned a bright crimson, not knowing what you said but understanding the force behind your words. He didn’t want to make you angry. If things were his way, he would have the time to make you see how your worth did not depend on being useful to others. But he didn’t have time, and truth be told, he knew from his own experience that being useful was the best protection against feeling useless. He wished he could tell you what it was like on the other side of that, but even circumstances weren’t dire, he wasn’t sure if he could say it in English the way he truly meant it.
You didn’t want to be here anymore, so you turned your heel and headed toward the supply room. Hoseok sighed, wishing he had more time with you, but knowing he needed to return to the task at hand. His priority was getting to the docks before the others to survey the situation. He left quickly and silently, the severity returning to his face.
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok said, looking you in the eye. He hoped that on some level you would understand the depth of what he was apologizing for.
“Whatever,” you scoffed, internally cringing at your callousness. Would Hoseok be okay? Would you get to kiss him again? “At least tell me where Yoongi is.”
“He’s in the supply room,” Hoseok responded.
Yoongi was already aware of the situation when you reached him in the supply room, loading a cart with blood bags, saline solution, and humidifiers.
“What are those for?” You asked, pointing to the humidifiers. You could guess the rest.
“If they have to use explosives, there’s a good chance people will end up with burns,” Yoongi explained. “Even third degree burns heal best in a humid environment.”
You shivered at the thought, “What can I do?”
“Sure,” you said, kneeling to rummage through a series of bottles. The gibberish on the bottles didn’t make any sense to you. “What color are they?”
“There are some water soluble antibiotics on the bottom shelf over there behind the morphine, can you grab some?”
His phone rang, “Yeoboseyo.”
“They’re the orange bottles, kind of see-through. They’re behind those white containers,” Yoongi paused. “Actually, take those white containers too, I don’t know if I have enough morphine in the clinic.”
“Where do you get all this from?”
“I have a friend at a hospital in the area,” Yoongi disclosed, loading on the final humidifier before adding, “Well, several. I have several friends at several hospitals in several areas.”
“Ne, ne,” Yoongi tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder, gesturing with his head for you to follow him as he made his way to the clinic. He was silent for a long time and you didn’t bother trying to understand the Korean on the other end of the phone, but when you reached the clinic Yoongi looked at you seriously, “Ne. Josimhae.”
“Oh, fuck,” You gasped.
“What’s going on?” You asked as you helped Yoongi unpack his cart. You had become pretty familiar with the layout of his office. You weren’t really sure what everything was, but you could easily match up the bottles with those that looked similar and the gauze and bandages were simple enough to distinguish. Yoongi was working quickly, clearly used to the rhythm of events that were unfolding, “That was Jin-hyung. He and Hoseok just arrived at the docks to survey the situation. The cops somehow made their way inside the warehouse and are taking pictures for evidence.”
“Hoseok will take them out.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but smile at your knee-jerk reaction, “There’s only two cops. As long as we get rid of the evidence on their phone, it’ll be fine. And worst case scenario, Jin is good at making things look like an accident.”
“What about the cops?”
“What if they call for backup?”
“They’ll only do that if they see us coming.”
“Won’t they?” You stopped unloading the supplies so you could study Yoongi’s face. You couldn’t explain the reason why you needed reassurance for everyone’s safety in this moment. You had never needed it before. Not for yourself or anyone else. You trusted Yoongi; trusted him in the way that he touched you gently during examinations and never more than he needed to; trusted the way he gave careful consideration to what you like and don’t like; trusted him in the tenderness he shared whenever he looked at you. But right now you needed to know if you could trust him with something else entirely–honesty when you felt insecure and out of control.
The smirk on Yoongi’s face was exactly what you needed to give you confidence when he replied, “Looks like you still have a lot to learn about Bangtan.”
“This is all we have to do?” The cop speaking had a wiry, gray mustache. His face looked too small for its features, mustache seeming to cover half of his face and wide, doe-like eyes with thick, wiry eyebrows to match. His tone was mocking, pleased even, as he took several photos of Bangtan’s contraband items. The warehouse was down by the docks near a garbage barge, an area that cops normally would have no reason to patrol. Most of the warehouses around here sat empty for long periods of time and without people or product; why would they waste their time?
Wiry sighed angrily, “What?”
Unless they get tipped off by a rival gang.
“It seems too easy,” his partner was nervous, pale and clean shaven. His eyes were sunken and sullen despite his youthful appearance.
Hoseok was watching them from the shadows of the catwalk overhead, keeping his footsteps silent as they traveled through the storage facility. He snuck in using the vents so that the cops wouldn’t be alerted to his arrival. If the cops had bothered to look up, they might have noticed the shine of his eyes like a jaguar on the hunt, movements just as fluid and deadly.
Truth be told, Hoseok did feel bad for the men. It was common practice to keep cops on your payroll. Usually, organizations did their research to see which cops might be the most susceptible to bribes. Did they have a history of being corrupt? Did they have secrets that could be used for blackmail? Did they have financial trouble? If the answer was yes to any of these questions, then they’d be approached by someone random, maybe at the grocery store, maybe at the DMV, with an envelope full of directions, cash and a meeting time. If they showed, then the organization would explain the terms of the agreement which would start simply as “Just take the money.”
That was the thing about bribes. Most of the time, there was nothing asked in return. Which made the deal too good to be true. Why not take a bunch of cash when the alternative is threat of exposure or financial ruin? The catch is…one day, we will need you. And on that day, you better do what we ask. Only rule? Don’t ask questions. The tasks were normally simple too. Maybe you’re asked to slow down a response to a distress call. Maybe you’re asked to shred an unknown document. Maybe you’re asked to take pictures at a random warehouse. Fulfill the assignment and you still get your payments.
It’s just business.
“How much more is there?” Sullen asked, looking around like he sensed Hoseok’s eyes on them.
“This is the last row,” Wiry growled, seemingly annoyed by his nervous companion. “You don’t have to be so worked up. This is a criminal organization, too, you know. We’ll be department heroes for turning in all this evidence. No need to have a guilty conscience.”
“It’s not my conscience I’m worried about,” Sullen mumbled, turning to look at something on his phone.
Hoseok smirked. If he was in one of those Marvel movies Jungkook likes to watch he’d jump down and say, “No, I’m the one you’re worried about.” But it would be better for everyone if he went undetected. He had been thinking about you and your aversion to killing. He could easily knock these guys out without being noticed, destroy their phones and dump them on the garbage barge. That would be enough to scare them away from coming back here and Joaquin would know that Bangtan was onto his tricks.
“Hey, look at this,” Sullen said, holding his phone up for Wiry to see.
“We have a profile on this guy for Bangtan.”
“So?” Wiry asked, eager to get to the point.
“He’s also in the system for La Familia and The Triads.” The hair on Hoseok’s neck stood up.
“Oh?” Wiry snatched the phone from Sullen. “Do you think Moreno knows about this?”
“Wouldn’t he have mentioned it if he did?” Sullen snapped, taking his phone back from Wiry’s grubby fingers.
The ends of Wiry’s mustache twisted upward in a devilish grin, “We’ll definitely get a bonus for this.”
Hoseok crouched to see the photo on the phone. His stomach dropped when his suspicions were confirmed. On Sullen’s phone was a photo of Kim Seokjin.
These men would have to die after all.
Once Yoongi’s office was stocked, there was nothing for you to do but wait. Something you hated.
“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asked, watching the way you organized and reorganized the bandages needlessly.
“No,” you lied, deciding that the antiseptic should go to the left of the bandages instead of the right as you began to take them out again.
“I did.”
Yoongi hummed in response, trying to suppress a chuckle. He knew you well enough to see through the way you tried to hide your needs. He stood up, deciding to try a different tactic, “Well, I am, so you should make me something.”
You stopped organizing to peer around the cabinet, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Yoongi, “Did you actually ask me to cook for you?”
You narrowed your eyes further, waiting for Yoongi to retract his request. Instead he smiled at you haphazardly, like a child who doesn’t know how to pose for photos yet, all gummy and exaggerated. If anyone asked, you would say something like “he’s such a dork,” but in reality, your heart ached for him just enough for you to give in. You sighed, hands on your hips when you asked, “Okay, what do you want?”
Yoongi considered, “What can you make?”
“Enchiladas.”
“Is that it?”
“No, but it’s what I’m in the mood for.”
"Let's check the kitchen. Anything you need, I'll get you." He was smiling again. This one was more natural and boyish than the one before, making your heart race when your eyes met his. You tried not to let your feelings show as Yoongi gestured for you to lead the way to the kitchen.
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Yoongi teased good-naturedly.
Your cheeks warmed and you decided to ignore his comment, “Do you guys even have tortillas?”
After digging through their refrigerator and pantry you gave Yoongi a list of ingredients you would need and he put in an order to a local store, promising an exorbitant tip for quick delivery, just so he wouldn't have to leave you.
"Could we fill them with kimchi?" Yoongi asked as you showed him how to roll the filling in the tortillas. You had just told him you liked chicken enchiladas best, but you didn't have time for that. You could fill them with anything though, and he was getting creative.
You wrinkled your nose. You had found out you really like kimchi, but it seemed like a strange combination. "I mean, I guess you could. The real question is if you should."
"Can we try?" He seemed excited, voice high and eyes wide and you didn't want to dampen his fun when he was being this cute. You nodded and he went grab a jar of kimchi from the refrigerator. He set the container beside you and waited expectantly.
"What are you staring at? You want kimchi enchiladas, you gotta get your hands dirty!"
Yoongi snickered but didn't argue as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. You walked him through the steps again, instructing him to add more sauce and not to overfill the tortilla, giving him a good natured "I told you so," when the wrap tore. You agreed to make a whole tray for the others to enjoy whenever they got home. The two of you got into a rhythm working side by side, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy every time your elbows bumped or your hands touched when you reached for the same spoon in the sauce pan.
As you slid the pan into the oven, the genuine smile on your face made his heart light. Yoongi liked your smile. In watching you, he noticed you somehow managed to get sauce under your eye.
“You have something on your face,” Yoongi said, pointing to the spot on his own. You used the back of your hand to wipe it off, which only ended up smearing it further. “Here,” Yoongi said, getting up to wet a rag in one swift motion and bringing a warm cloth to your face before you knew it. He was gentle in the way he touched you, getting close to your face to make sure it was gone. When he finished, he didn’t move away. Your eyes met and you watched how his eyes flicked down to your lips before he pulled away, clearing his throat.
“Thank you,” you whispered, heart racing again.
“Always,” Yoongi said, cheeks turning red as he put the rag away. He knew what he meant: “I will always try to do things you are grateful for.” But even the small, cowardly admission of that felt childish when said out loud. He hoped he hadn’t given too much away or made you uncomfortable.
If you were uncomfortable, you didn’t show it, moving on by telling Yoongi that the next time you cook together, he better not tear the tortillas. His whole body warmed with a promise of a “next time” and he happily offered to clean up the dishes while you sat and waited.
“You were right about the kimchi,” you conceded between bites when you finally sat down to eat.
“Everything's better with kimchi,” Yoongi said proudly.
“Kimchi ice cream?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It exists.”
“Yeah, but is it good?”
“Everything’s better with kimchi,” Yoongi looked at you seriously, “Everything.”
You rolled your eyes, but that smile was back on your lips.
“My mom used to make enchiladas,” you said once both yours and Yoongi’s plates were clear. There was an ache in your voice that made Yoongi want to reach out and grab your hand. Maybe he would have, but you moved your hands to your lap as you avoided his gaze. “Or at least I think she did. I have this memory of us going to the park, just me and her, and there was a boy there twice my age and he told me I couldn’t play with him because I was a girl, and I told him I came from a long line of luchador wrestlers and he’d be sorry if he didn’t let me play with him. He ignored me so I dove for his feet and made him fall on his face. I tried to run away before he could get up, but he caught me pretty quick and tackled me to the ground. I think I got several smacks to the face before my mom pulled him off of me.”
Yoongi suppressed a giggle, imagining you, exactly as you are now but miniature, chasing down men twice your size to prove a point.
“She wanted me to apologize to him and I told her I would’ve rather he kept hitting me.” At this, Yoongi did laugh, causing you to look up to find his shoulders shaking and head rolling back. You were so lost in your memories you hadn’t considered the ridiculousness of your story. You smiled warmly at Yoongi, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your head in your hands with a sigh, “I guess it was kind of a silly thing to say. I wonder if my mom laughed, too.”
“You don’t remember?” Yoongi asked, leaning forward as well.
You shook your head, “The next thing I remember is crying and going home and my mom made enchiladas. And at some point she said, ‘Mija, eres mi dulce pequeña luchadora. Pero sigue así y te llevarás a ti mismo a una hermosa prisión.’”
Yoongi would have sold his soul to hold you in that moment. There were no tears in your eyes, but he knew you were breaking your own heart. Was it really better to believe that your mother didn’t exist at all than grieve for someone you might have loved? How could Yoongi convince you that you deserved all the love you’ve been denied by the world? Denied by yourself? Watching you hurt yourself in this way, hurt him too. Shattered him. He needed to tell you you were worthy of love. His love. And of all of Bangtan. And of anyone else in the world. Everyone else. He needed desperately to tell you how he felt. You needed to know.
Chills ran up Yoongi’s spine when he heard you speak Spanish. He loved the tone of your voice in it. Warm and inviting. Like coming home. “What does that mean?”
“My child, you are my sweet, little fighter. But keep it up and you’ll carry yourself to a beautiful prison.”
“Sweet, little fighter. I like that,” Yoongi meant it as his eyes traced over the smoothness of your forearms, the richness of your skin, the way your hands cradled your face so delicately. He wished he could hold your face in his hands like that and whisper how you were his sweet fighter.
You hummed, absently pulling your hair out from your ponytail and letting your thick waves frame your face. You didn’t notice how Yoongi scooted ever so slightly toward you. “Sometimes I think it was a dream,” you admitted. “Or maybe a song.” You shook your head. “It’s the only memory I have of her. Or only full memory. Everything else is just imprints like worn out photographs. A smile here, a kiss there. Falling asleep in her arms. Nothing concrete like the playground.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to comb it out. Keeping your hands busy helped with the heaviness you were starting to feel in your chest. “Maybe she didn’t make enchiladas at all. Maybe it’s a cook or nanny I’m remembering, I don’t know.”
“How did she die?” Yoongi prodded gently.
You shrugged, “One day she just wasn’t there. My dad never mentioned anything about it. Maybe she never even existed.” You laughed bitterly, “You know, I always think my life sucked after my dad died, but maybe it wasn’t that great while he was living either.”
“Val, I–”
Yoongi’s phone was ringing, breaking the spell in Yoongi’s thoughts. Under any other circumstances, he would have ignored it to give his full attention to you. But tonight, his brothers were risking their lives and they needed him and by the way your eyes held his as he answered the phone, he knew you would do anything to help them too. He didn’t have time to even say hello before he heard Jimin on the other end of the line.
“Hyung, it’s Hoseok. He was shot in the chest. It might be his lung, hyung.”
“What? What is it?” You were already getting up from the table, putting the plates away quickly before following Yoongi back to his office.
“Anyone else?” Yoongi asked, motioning for you to grab the morphine in the cabinet behind him.
“No, he was the first to get there. We had just arrived on the scene when we heard the gunshot,” Jimin explained.
“Did he sustain any other injuries?”
“He has some blood on his head. He might have hit it pretty hard.”
“Shit,” Yoongi blanched. He wouldn’t be able to put Hoseok under for surgery if he had a concussion.
“Jin-hyung is driving him to you now,” Jimin continued. “The cops called for backup, but I was able to intercept and cancel the signal. Jungkook is finishing the job. We made it in time. We won’t have to burn any product.”
Made it in time, my ass. Yoongi thought. Making it in time would mean that he would not have to dig a bullet out of his friend’s chest tonight.
“He lost a lot of blood, hyung.”
“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi’s mind was already going through the procedure. Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook were all type A, which he had plenty of. And if need be, he and Jin could donate because they were both O. He tucked the phone against his shoulder as he set up the IV for transfusion. “When will they be here?”
“Less than 10 minutes.”
“Thanks.” Yoongi hung up without a goodbye, knowing that Jimin wasn’t the type to get offended, especially in a situation like this. “Hoseok was shot. We need to prepare for surgery,” he instructed.
Your stomach dropped as you nodded, not letting on to how scared shitless you were. You fought to keep your last exchange with Hoseok out of your mind, knowing that you needed to stay present. You had no skills to help in this kind of situation, but it didn’t change the fact that you could be useful. And for Hoseok, you could do it.
When Seokjin showed up, Hoseok looked small in his arms. There were no words exchanged between you as Seokjin placed Hoseok gingerly, like he was the most precious thing in the world, on the exam table. His breathing was labored and he was barely conscious. As Seokjin stepped away, he let his tears fall freely knowing there is nothing he could do for the love of his life now. He trusted Yoongi, but feeling how his bloodied shirt clung to his body, he wasn’t sure if that would be enough this time.
“I know a fighter when I see one,” You said, placing a hand on Seokjin’s arm as Yoongi took a quick survey to determine the damage. “He’ll be okay.” To be honest, you weren’t sure if you were trying to soothe Seokjin or yourself.
“The good news is that the bullet missed his lung by a good couple of inches, we’ll have to be careful in getting it out though in case the trauma causes a collapse,” Yoongi advised. “He has at least two broken ribs.”
Hoseok moaned and Yoongi tapped his face urgently, “Hoseok, this is very important. Stay with me.”
“Y-yoongi?” His voice was fried.
“Did you hit your head?”
“What?” Though it was more groan than question as Hoseok coughed, making him writhe on the table. “Hurts.”
“I know it hurts, but did you hit your head?”
“No, he-he cut me. The little one cut me,” Hoseok choked out, reaching for where the gash was on the side of his head.
Yoongi sighed in relief, “That’s good. Good job, Hobi. Val, can you fill a syringe with 20 ml of morphine for me please?” Yoongi called over his shoulder and then turning back to Hoseok, he smiled reassuringly, “You’re gonna be okay.”
You squeezed Seokjin’s hand, heart clenched in your chest, telling yourself over and over again the only thing that you’re sure of…You trust Yoongi.
All things considered, the surgery was routine, the transfusions were successful and everything went as well as it could have. Bullet injuries were relatively common amongst the greater Bangtan clan. Remove the bullet, pack the wound and use stitches if necessary. But Yoongi hadn’t performed something like that in such a critical area on someone he cared for so dearly. Under much duress, he had convinced Seokjin to sleep in one of the guest rooms in the house. Seokjin had insisted, nearly hysterically, that he keep watch over Hoseok all night, but Yoongi eventually convinced him that he would be a better help to Hoseok when he woke up if he was rested and alert.
Yoongi sat tiredly in the seat next to yours at Hoseok's bedside. Leaning heavily on elbows pressed into his knees, he applied pressure to his temples with his fingertips and groaned softly. The sound made you turn your head. The man had been so composed since you'd known him, you'd never heard him complain of anything before.
"Headache?" You asked softly, voice barely coming out at all.
Yoongi hummed and nodded.
The corners of your mouth curled in a grin, but you tried to hold them down as you sat up and turned your body more toward him, your knees knocking gently against each other, his stiff denim against your bare skin. "Let me."
Yoongi looked up curiously, watching you rub your hands together. You pressed your palms to the crown of his head. "Sana, sana, colita de rana," you sang softly and slowly before running your hands down the side of his head, your fingertips barely skimming his scalp.
"What does that mean?" He desperately hoped you couldn't see the blush rising on his cheeks because of your hands touching him as you raised them to repeat the motion.
"Heal, heal, little frog's tail," you murmured in response. It didn't sound so melodic in English.
Yoongi swallowed hard when your hands stopped, cupping his jaw as you examined his dark eyes that looked back at you, full of genuine curiosity. "What is that supposed to do?" He licked his lips.
"Make you smile."
That was enough to make his lips pull up to show you his perfect teeth and gums. His happiest smile. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip. You let your hands fall away when he leaned back a little.
"Sorry, I didn't go to medical school."
"It was the least I could do," you shrugged. "I asked Namjoon not to go, since he knew it was a trap, but he wouldn't listen. And it wouldn't even have happened if it wasn't–"
"It worked. Sometimes home remedies are best." His smile dimmed but lingered on the edges of his lips. He looked down and gently placed his hand over yours. "I don't know what I would have done without you tonight. It's been a long time since we had a night like this." His shoulders relaxed as he sighed out, but it had more to do with his fingertips touching the skin of your thigh over which your hands rested.
Yoongi cut you off with a squeeze of your hand. "It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault."
"I could've at least gone with them. Maybe Hobi wouldn't–"
"Hobi is going to be fine," he assured you with a shake of his head. His free hand lifted to push hair behind your ear. "I'm glad Namjoon didn't let you go. You have a tendency to get hurt and I can't stand it," he admitted softly.
You felt your skin burn where his hand rested against your neck. He was closer than you realized. Close like he'd been earlier. Your eyes traced his features, his small cat-like eyes, his soft round nose, until they landed inevitably at his pink lips just at the moment that the tip of his tongue darted out to wet them.
The mere thought of you laying here instead of Hoseok caused Yoongi unimaginable grief. How was it you had become so important to him in such a short period of time? Why did the possibility of your suffering frighten him more than his friend's, more than even his own? He didn't know but he wished he could keep you just as safe as you were now, in his small clinic, under his warm hands.
Was he leaning in or were you? It didn't seem to matter once your lips touched. His lips pushed softly against yours, molding to your mouth like they wanted to make a copy, so as never to forget what they felt like. He was warm and gentle, even as his hand shifted slightly to clutch tighter at the back of your neck.
Your shaking hand moved from your knee to his, fingers feeling his jeans, grounding you and letting you know this was real. This was happening, even if you couldn't understand why. You couldn't have imagined kissing Yoongi; wouldn't have dared. Among all the men you'd ever known, he was probably the only truly good one, clearly far too good to be here locking lips with the likes of you. As good as it felt, it seemed wrong, too. How had you managed to force him into this? You felt for a moment that you should push him away, but just as the thought crossed your mind his hold on you tightened, pulling you closer still. If this was a mistake, maybe you could enjoy it just a little longer.
Your thoughts couldn't have been further from Yoongi's mind.
He couldn't say just how long he'd dreamed of kissing you, but now that it was happening it couldn't feel more right. He turned his head to get a different angle, your lips smacking weakly before they reconnected and you shifted slightly closer to him, making the butterflies in his stomach flutter madly at the thought of you wanting to be closer to him. Every bit of exhaustion he felt from the long night eased out of his body the longer your lips stayed pressed to his, moving gently as your hand grabbed firmly to his thigh. A small sigh escaped him as you nipped at his bottom lip, teeth grazing the plump, pink flesh, a shade more red than they were a minute ago.
Your eyes fluttered open for a moment, allowing you to glimpse his serene expression while his eyes remained closed. But it was enough to knock your brain back into reality, where you certainly shouldn't be kissing Yoongi, no matter how good it felt, even though you really wanted to, even if you hadn't known you wanted to until just now. You leaned further away, straightening your posture. You looked down to see Hoseok sleeping peacefully and cleared your throat.
"We should probably get some sleep. It's been a long night," you mumbled.
Yoongi swallowed and nodded, wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his pants. "Yeah, you should get some sleep."
You stood up too quickly, making the chair you were in scrape loudly against the floor. You both turned to look at your patient, but he was undisturbed, face peaceful, unlike yours, which Yoongi didn't fail to notice. Worry and guilt began to churn his stomach like molten lava.
"Val, I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingertips brushing his lips, stinging slightly from your absence.
You stared into his eyes for a moment before you shook your head and ran out of the room.
