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darling, your eyes tell.

[zephyoongist]

hey hi!

i’m cara.

this url and kthartics are mine, i used to write under them a couple years ago

i have a main blog where i post longer fics on iykyk

asks are open if anyone has any question pertaining zephyoongist and kthartics

this blog is for short writings and for me to experiment on styles

my old writings will not be reuploaded on here because it’s not the style i want to represent me anymore

tags: shortings for short writings

[zephyoongist]

“i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.” 

jeon jeongguk’s words send shivers down your spine - not the good kind. though you should’ve known there was something lethal about him when he strutted into the room with a smirk that tells you he knows something you don’t. the gun resting in the holster in front of his chest aside.

the flute of the champagne glass in your hand suddenly feels too thin - like it’ll break into half if you so much as add pressure to your grip.

“it’s an honor. to think the one and only detective jeon would even spare a glance at little old me, let alone notice me.” a suave smile blooms on your lips as you tip the fragile glass to him.

the sultry sound of chuckles drums on your ears as jeongguk shakes his head, an amused smile dancing on his lips. then his deep brown gaze meets your unfaltering cold ones and you know he knows.

“how can someone shoot daggers at another’s head when they think they’re not looking and plaster a million dollar smile the moment that person turns to them? as if you’re not dying to kill me?”

[zephyoongist]

[drabble]

x

To say you’re in love with your husband, Jeon Jeongguk, would be an utter lie.

It’s less about being faithful and more about avoiding unnecessary headlines splattered across news articles about one of you being spotted halfway across the country with an up and rising model or a business mogul, clearly enjoying the time of your life while your spouse is somewhere in Seoul, walking out of the headquarters, clearly alone (minus the addition of one or two bodyguards), clearly furrowing their brows and clearly plagued with tension over the meeting with the board.

“I heard Uncle Sanwoo is giving you a hard time.” Jeongguk’s voice rings into the quiet night whilst his chest rises and falls in a steadying pace, painted with a tinge of orange from the dimmed night lights that’s set to the lowest possible brightness.

“Not to be a bitch, but let’s not do this. You’re more desirable shutting the fuck up.” The words come out sharper than you intend them to be.

Though you know that won’t deter the trickles of laughter slipping past Jeongguk’s pretty pink lips.

“Oh, thank god.” He sighs, the muscles of his bicep relaxing underneath your head. “Thought I should at least ask because sex was pretty… intense tonight.”

You might or might not need to blow off some steam.

There’s a little smirk tugging on one corner of his lips.

As though he can’t give two fucks about how bad your day was at work.

It’s times like these that you wonder if you should’ve scratched off that bullet in the prenup about neither of you getting to see anyone else outside of the marriage. The rationale was that even a blind person could see the sexual tension between the two of you - that part was taken care of by the many rounds of fucking you did almost every night.

But it sure is damn lonely once you’re finally staring at the darkened ceiling, wondering if you’ll ever find someone who’d draw you a warm bath and give you a foot massage just because they know you had a day at work.

[zephyoongist]

pairings: jungkook x (f)reader

words: 244

this is the final installment to my jungkook drabble which you can find on my page. it can also be read as a stand alone.

x

“If I’m the bad guy, then why are you drunk at 11 in the morning at some pub?” Jeon Jeongguk’s tattooed forearm is the first thing you see when you blink away the blur in your vision, hand slamming the shot glass against the smooth surface of the counter.

Maybe it’s the few drinks too many that made you think it’s okay to let out that sniffle before you speak.

“I can’t give you my heart. It’s broken.”

Hell, if you were sober you wouldn’t be saying these things. This isn’t you. This is the past you. A girl who dreamed of happily ever after. She learned soon enough that there’s always a continuation to those; one, no story teller dares to tell.

Silence lapses between you.

Good.

It must’ve hit him how much of a train wreck you are. One second you’re the blazing sun that lights up even the cloudiest days. The next, you’re the moon that glazes silver rays. Too cold to the touch.

“You can’t fix what you don’t feel.” Jeongguk’s voice brushes your ears like velvet.

Maybe you’ve gone insane, because to you, it felt like he’s saying I’m not giving up on you.

And you make the fatal mistake of searching for his eyes, wishing, wondering what kind of expression he’s making.

Those galaxy eyes stare back at you with so much certainty, you almost forgot to breathe.

A sob escapes your lips.

“I don’t want to feel and you’re making it so hard.”

[zephyoongist]

pairings: jungkook x (f)reader

words: 297

first installment.

x

The puff of cigarette smoke that passed through Jeon Jeongguk’s lips dispersed into thin air, his deep brown bangs brushing his forehead as he drops his head as though he couldn’t bear to look at you.

As though he’d cry if he didn’t tear his eyes away from your emotionless face.

“I don’t want to live in a world where feeling feelings makes you… weak.” His voice cracks at the end but you pretend not to notice.

There’s an urge to scuff the sole of your left boot against the pavement but you remain still as a statue.

The intricate bled ink on his forearm looks blacker tonight than any other.

You used to trace each line with your index finger as you lay your head on arm, naked and bare and safe under his sheets.

To say you’d never graced Jeon Jeongguk with a curve of your lips and stars in your eyes would be a lie.

But that was before he ruined it all.

Before told you he loved you.

No, he still loves you.

If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be standing here sober whilst the friends he pulled you away from cheered and laughed as downed glass after glass of beer somewhere in the bbq restaurant, completely oblivious to what was going down in this barren street at 11:38 in the evening.

God, it’s too fucking early for this.

“Say something.” Jeongguk whispered, slowly sinking to the ground, the hand joint to that inked arm ruffling his hair violently, the lit cigarette burning too close to his index and middle fingers of his other hand.

“Say something, god damn it!” His voice hits the air with so much desperation… so much sadness… and so much hope.

You think you heard your heart breaking.

[zephyoongist]

pairings: jungkook x (f)reader

words: 369

x

Jeon Jeongguk scares you. Not because he’s almost 6 feet tall, did soccer in high school and joins the university team’s baseball practice for fun, but because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I like…” The soft velvet voice drums your ears as a hand brushes against your bare back whilst fingers twirl the ends of your hair around them.

“The scent of your shampoo.” He finally finishes his sentence.

But that did nothing to end your misery.

The screen of your phone is the only source of light in this darkened room. He’s laying next to you, the light of your phone screen stretching over the ridges of his abs down to the v shaped line that disappears underneath the very same sheet you have draped over your chest as you remain sitting up.

“What is it? Apricot?” Jeongguk asks again when he didn’t receive a response from you on his fondness for the mild sweet and fruity fragrance coming from your hair.

That’s because it’s not the shampoo.

Well, you did wash the hair.

But rather than that particular scent catching his attention… it’s Jeongguk liking anything and everything about you.

And you’re not even trying to be presumptuous.

Six months ago, a good one and a half year into the agreement of your being friends with benefits, some time in the early AM, Jeon Jeongguk had stirred awake, reached around your waist and nuzzled his nose into your hair like a lover would.

“I love you.” His words were muffled but with his lips so close to your ear, it was impossible to mistake them.

Then slumber rocked him back to sleep like nothing happened; like he had always woken up in ass crack o’clock after a passionate yet emotionless night in fright that you’d be gone like the wind.

You woke up because of a vibration of a text just a second before him.

But you stayed awake until morning, still as a rock as Jeongguk’s soft snores brushed your ears. Partly because you knew it was coming (call it a woman’s intuition).

And another part of you was confused as fuck.

Because it felt like your heart was breaking.

[zephyoongist]

Jeon Jeongguk was just an acquaintance. The child of a family friend.

That is, until our parents decide to get us engaged.

One night, and a few glasses of champagne too many, Mr. Jeon made a slip of tongue. Something about “telling you two when you’re older” and “but they’ve been getting along so well, haven’t they?” and finally, “we didn’t need to worry about the breaking the news of the engagement.”

Powerless as we were, only at the age of barely 18, we decided we’d go along with it.

If only to part ways somewhere along the line after we’ve got enough recognition. Enough power to go on without the other’s support and without clinging onto our parents’ influence.

Now, at the age of 25, one succeeded the family business and the other flying from one country to another in chase of strengthening her connections.

Yet at the age of 25, we still couldn’t shake off our family’s influence.

“Should we just get married?” Jeongguk suggests, twirling the glass of deep red wine in his hand - he looks absolutely handsome with the first two buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and disheveled hair that telltales a run of fingers over them one too many times before he arrived here.

At our supposed matrimonial home.

Our parents gifted us a penthouse when they found out we were dating. It was for show but this house has become our safe haven. A place for only him and I. A space where we can just be.

“At this point, it doesn’t sound half bad - getting married to you,” I pull on the shawl wrapped around my nightgown adorned body, lifting the glass of whiskey and clinking it with his when he raised it to me, “I’ve given up on the notion of love after my parents screamed divorce for like, the hundredth time.”

“We won’t be like them,” it’s so easy for Jeongguk to proclaim those words.

A surety that we wouldn’t turn out like our progenitors.

“At least, we’re friends,” which is to say we never had such strong feelings for each other in the first place.

Passion breeds love and love leads to hate once all the excitement and fire shimmers down. Our parents’ only known the high life - we’re different, Jeongguk and I, we’ve adamant about hiding our family backgrounds. Choosing to go to public schools and university - of course at the expanse of promising to go together.

“Alright then, let’s get married,” he sets the glass down, its contents barely touched before he pushes himself up, hand outstretched to me.

“Wha-” I’m sure I look like a fool, staring at him with round eyes and slacked jaw but it’s not a face Jeongguk’s never seen. If I were in love with him, I’d be a little more concerned about my appearance.

But I’m not.

And once I recover from that shocking proposal, I take his hand.

By the age of 26, we’re pressured for a child. An heir to the family that will carry on the legacy on his back like we did our whole lives.

To say Jeongguk and I have never consummated our marriage would be a lie. Attraction shouldn’t be equated to romantic feelings. We know that and we fucked knowing that this means nothing more than a way to relief our stresses.

But lately, Jeongguk’s been rather... odd.

I find his hand on my waist or grasping mine even when we’ve stepped out of the crowded hall where the main event was held. Those forehead kisses whenever he comes home and I’m around - aren’t so bad. If at all. He tells me to stay in bed while he makes us breakfast but we end up going out for brunch with empty stomachs and suit cases in the car - the renovation to fix the burned walls will take about 3 months.

We use that as an excuse to drop off the face of the earth and spend it in a private island gifted to us by our parents upon the news of our elopement. 

So to say we didn’t love each other would be a lie. But to say we have romantic feelings for each other would be as ambiguous.

It’s too easy.

Far too effortless to be together compared to the relationships I’ve seen lifted up and burned to ashes.

Our friends and family asks how we keep from ripping our hair out for whatever reason at certain points of our relationship.

We say it’s because we adore each other so much.

Truth is, we’re just not as romantically involved to feel such frustrations.

“Do you want to have sex on the beach?” Jeongguk suggests one fine evening as we’re having steak on the balcony with the curtains swaying with the coming wind.

It’s so sudden - just like our impromptus marriage, I almost choked.

“Wh-what-” and just like that night, I must have looked like a bigger fool to be flustered and embarrassed at his uncannily direct proposition.

I don’t know what’s going on - these days, I get flustered too easily.

Jeongguk shoulder line shifts as he shrugs, my embarrassment causing his cheeks to redden too, “just thought we should try it. It’s okay if you’re not com-”

“I- I wouldn’t mind that,” I say, eyes casted down, cheeks growing hotter when I hear the silence and the ‘o-oh’ a second later, as if he didn’t expect me to agree.

As if he knew me like the back of his hand.

I thought I knew him too.

The next day, accompanied with the breeze of the ocean and feeling of sand on my skin as Jeongguk groans into my shoulder - I thought I’d go insane.

And insane I went, for ever since then, I couldn’t even look at him in the eye without having my heart race and the cheeks heat up. And yet, he keeps coming home with flowers every two weeks until my room smells like spring. He keeps kissing me on the forehead when he hands me the bouquet.

At the age of 27, I throw the bouquet he brought back. It hits his chest and crashes against the ground in between his feet.

“How long has it been going on?!” I don’t know why my heart feels like it’s being crushed into a million pieces.

It’s not as if Jeongguk’s line of work saves him from all the stunningly beautiful women - it’s just that I didn’t care back then.

So why - why did it break me so when I see him with his hand around another woman’s waist as they walk to his car in broad daylight. 

“What do you mean-” his rich brown eyes are clouded with confusion, those pink lips parted without a sound, hands freeze in the air as if he’s trying to reach for me but stops halfway.

Perhaps because he knows his faults.

That night, I climb into bed with tear stained face after crying my eyes out in the bathtub.

But that night, Jeongguk came to me, a knock on the door and a “can I come in?” I didn’t answer but I feel the dip of the bed a second later before familiar, strong arms wrap around me from behind. A warm breath on my shoulder as he mumbles into my skin, “she’s the wife of the CEO whose company we’re negotiating with. She was feeling sick so I helped her to the car. Doesn’t excuse what I did but I called and broke off the deal.”

We fall asleep in each other’s for the first time since that night at the private island.

And at the age of 28, as I watch him play with my cousin’s toddler, I realize that I want a family with him. Not because we’re obligated to continue the bloodline at some point.

But because, perhaps, all this time -

“I may have loved you all along,” I murmur as I share my feelings with him that night, cuddled up in my bed - he’s been coming to sleep with me, his own room now feeling scarce of life as his belongings begin to fill up the spots in my space.

And for the first time since I’ve known Jeon Jeongguk, he hiccups - pressing his hand to his lips as his eyes brim with tears.

“Fuck,” he laughs, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, “this is so uncool - come on, close your eyes - I’ll tell you when I stop bawling like an idiot.”

“I don’t want to - I’m done running away from the things that I fear would happen if I fall in love,” my hands frame around his face, “I want to face you with my whole heart - I... I want to be your wife, your lover, your support... your everything, Jeongguk as you are mine.”

The waterworks comes in full force, Jeongguk’s hiccupping and sniffling as his eyes bore into mine, my hands are damp from wiping his tears so he wouldn’t rub his eyes red in his fervor.

That night, we fall asleep in each other’s arms, knowing tomorrow will be a different, much brighter day.

x

note. ok so ionno what i did lol but hope it’s enjoyable.

[zephyoongist]

“have you seen my hoodie?”

“no...”

“you’re wearing it aren’t you?

warning: implied smut

x

are all humans this odd?

min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

note. a repost from my other blog.

[zephyoongist]

jung hoseok found you when you were about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

which was jumping through the low window of the church without anything to cushion you at the bottom while your fiancé, soon-to-be husband, was waiting at the aisle.

“you sure you want to do that?” a voice asks ever so casually, as if seeing a bride clad in white hugging the skirt of her dress as she hunches over edge of the window, is just another occurrence out of the many he’s seen in his lifetime.

“t-that’s my choice,” you stammer out defensively, not expecting for anyone to be having a smoke at the back of a church.

as if you have any viable options.

go back in there and you’ll marry the man of your parents’ dreams.

sneak out from the window and you’ll end up living in some basement on a month-to-month rent, cut off from your parents’ funds and disowned from the choi family name.

“i’m hoseok, by the way,” he introduces himself a heartbeat later.

and because your brain is functioning on a hundred million thoughts per second, you end up blurting “the blacksheep?!”

“well,” hoseok takes a moment to ponder on that name, “that works too.”

“sorry,” your head hangs low.

“don’t worry about it,” he says, dropping the bud of the cigarette and stomping on it before walking over to the window and standing directly below it, arms open wide.

“jump.”

one word. and that’s all it takes for the alarms in your head to go off. for a moment, you even debating setting your feet back down to the floor of the room but you keep yourself rooted on the ledge, “what?”

“make no mistake, i’m not doing this for you. i just like the thought of my asshole brother’s face going red with embarrassment when he finds out he got left at the altar,” so he beckons you again, “jump.”

you remember agreeing that jeon jeongguk needs to have his ego taken down a few notches. then, before you know it, your heart is leaping inside your throat and you’re squealing without restraint as the air caresses your skin.

it takes a moment before you gather the guts to pry your eyes open - you don’t know when you have them closed. and when you do, hoseok is gone. you’d say it’s magic and that you’ve been talking to an imaginary entity.

but then there’s groaning coming from under the layers of ruffles of your skirt and you quickly gather them in your arms before a flock of black hair appears, lying down on the ground.

“oh my god, i’m sorry!” you gasp, but then you’re releasing the layers of ruffles which come flowing down in place before you place your hands on your hips, “see! you shouldn’t have told me to jump. i had it under control.”

“pray tell, in what way can you control one of your ankles to not twist jumping all the way from there?” hoseok winces as he pushes himself up, hand going to his lower back.

you open your mouth, only to let invisible air out and then close it again like fish above water.

“never mind that, we have to leave. now,” then his hand is twined with yours and he’s dragging you behind him as you barely manage to keep up with his physique but the sight of his suited back and bright sky will forever be engraved in your head as you grip his hand and make up your mind.

mistakes will be made and consequences will follow. but today, your only mistake is leaving your pair of white heels in the room. because these blisters will heal.

x

your parents are furious.

rightfully so when they find you in their home, changed out of the hideously large white dress - it’s your mother-in-law that wanted you to wear such an ugly thing anyway.

“the shame you cast on this family!” your mother dramatically laments as she walks back and forth in the common room, still clad in light violet dress. lipstick as red as her vision.

you get an earful of something along the lines of disgrace and family name and whatnot.

but never do you hear the question why. 

why did you do what you did?

why didn’t you tell them anything throughout the preparations of the marriage?

this. this is why.

because they never bother to listen and they never will, even if you did something so out of character. something choi ____ would never have done with her grace and primness.

so that night, when you hear the sound of pebbles on your window and notice a jung hoseok looking up at you, this time, clad in normal clothes. you don’t even bat an eye when he says run away with me.

“...to a place where nobody could find us. somewhere far away.” he tells you as you cuddle with him on the deck, facing the rising sun with no one - no eyes judging you. no fear of your deviousness going around from mouth to mouth.

well, it may - once anna, your maid finds you nowhere in bed. once she rushes to your parents to tell them the grave news.

but you’ll be halfway to new york by then.

x

years pass and you and hoseok make a home out of the second story apartment. you like plants and he likes vinyls. somehow, it works out. his vinyl player now stands in the corner with your life sized plant which you water everyday and assure him that it’s not going to grow all the way to the rooftop.

the topic of children doesn’t come until much much later.

on a happy accident where you find out and keep it from him for at least a week, gathering up the nerve to sit him down in the kitchen where you watch as his eyes go round and then get filled with fear before the chair screeches as he pushes himself up.

before you know it, you’re being twirled in the air, palms on his shoulders and eyes gazing down at him as he holds you up by your ass.

your marriage is attended by your closest friends at the embassy. your dress isn’t as grandiose but it’s pretty in your eyes. and in hoseok’s eyes too - otherwise, why would he be weeping and wiping the tears from his face.

“hey, don’t cry,” you chuckle softly as you cup his cheek with your hand, your other hand holding the almost wilted bouquet your friend manages to buy off a vendor on the way here.

“you- you shouldn’t be real,” it’s out of character for the ever free jung hoseok but at the same time so - him.

and in your shared lifetimes, hoseok’s only ever cried when you got married, when your first born arrived.

he’s the kind of husband that’ll act tough in front of you and the kind of father to slip a cookie to your kid when you turn your back on them. until you call him out.

“you know, the cookie jar is running low on cookies and you don’t like sweet things,” you say, arms crossed over you chest when he steps into the kitchen with bed hair and an empty bowl of your kid’s breakfast in one hand.

“well, shouldn’t you ask the little one?” he jests, bowl placed in the sink before he starts to tickle your stomach lightly.

“hoseok,” there’s pressure in the way his name rolls off your tongue.

“i swear,” he stands back up, hands raised in a surrendering manner, “i don’t know.”

“mama!” your toddler comes waddling in, hugging your leg with a hand full of cookie.

she gazes up at you with pretty brown eyes that resemble her father’s and the prettiest smile that’s a mix of yours and hoseok.

“my baby! are you done with breakfast?” you take her in your arms, index booping her little nose before trickles of giggles fall out of her mouth.

“and what’s this?” you ask the source of the crumbs that got on her clothes, “did papa give this to you?”

then you turn to him, catching him in the middle of making faces to your toddler to deny your allegations.

“yes! papa! cookies!” your toddler giggles some more.

and you shoot him arched brows and a ‘well?’ kind of look.

“now, which papa is she talking about because it sure isn’t me who gave that to her.” hoseok places his hands on his waist.

“we’ll, talk about this,” you say, and that’s final.

“honey...” he calls after you as you pad towards the bathroom where your child’s bath is long overdue because it’s already 2 in the afternoon and she’s still in last night’s clothes.

“papa! bath!” your child jumps in her spot as you begin to unbutton her shirt.

you shake your head.

kids are so simple minded. you only hope she’ll use hoseok’s wits and your skills to sniff out lies on the boys and girls that’ll be lining up to get even a smidge of attention.

[zephyoongist]

jeon jeongguk thought you were wonderful. like daisies in a open meadow, autumn leaves and pumpkin chai latte. 

you liked listening to meditation podcasts whilst you sit on your yoga mat at veranda, basking in the morning sun that gives a sort of glow to your skin. 

poetry and art are two of the things he associates you with even though he often sees you in a pencil skirts and deep garnet lipstick when you jokingly tell him he has to get his ass out because you can’t trust him to not steal one of your plants if you leave for work and let him stick around until he’s awake enough to leave himself.

you don’t mind that he does gigs instead of a 9 to 5′s. 

and despite your glaring ideas about art, he still sees you in the crowd, smiling and bobbing your head to the beat that he produced.

if jeongguk didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re in love with him.

except when asked “what are we?” (of course, it’s him who asks), you would always giggle and look at him with eyes that can break him apart over and over again - yet he’d still keep coming back to you.

“us?” he wonders what the word tastes like on your tongue - is it as sweet yet heart wrenching like it tastes for him?

“we’re people who appreciate art.” you say.

jeongguk’s 99.9% sure that means ‘we’re fuck buddies’ in the common speaking term.

but he doesn’t mind, because that means you think of him as an art worth holding and beholding.

and that’s enough.

for now.

[zephyoongist]

you and yoongi had an unusual friendship.

if you could even call those polite smiles and awkward silences when you’re left together to wait for the rest of your friends to arrive at the restaurant or wherever place you decided to meet up - a friendship.

but you definitely didn’t dislike him.

far from it, actually-

“since we’re at the end of the road, i wanna close this chapter of my life by saying i like you, yoongi and i think you’re attractive as fuck,” you’d plainly said after another episode of having been stuck together to wait for your friends to gather at the spot you’d promised.

deep blue, almost black robes waving around everywhere as people laughed and posed and took pictures but you’d stood five feet apart from each other as if you didn’t know each other for the rest of your college years.

hell, you were in the same batch. took the same classes.

but someway, somehow, in the absence of your friend group who each comprised of different majors and therefore scattered all over campus in different departments, you two never really crossed paths.

you had different sets of friends beside those mismatched bunch. ones that were set to be your partner, group mate, lunch mate and everything you weren’t to each other.

“what?” the aforementioned man whose eyes are usually seen half-closed and bored, turned even smaller as he squinted at you - as if he could see a caption somewhere on your face if he did that.

“i like you - i don’t know when it started but before i know it, i just kind of have a big ass crush on you,” you shrugged, perhaps it’s the chaotic but also detaching setting around you that wrapped you in a blanket of comfort - the knowledge that nobody was listening or even paying attention to you as they laughed and hugged and made today their day and no one else’s.

maybe it’s the fact that after this, you’d probably have a few good months to beat yourself up over the embarrassment of confessing your feelings like you were doing now.

either way, you felt the least bit nervous about being rejected - it was your graduation day and not even this could dampen the mood.

“good talk,” you’d lightly smacked his arm with the scroll after you’d spotted your friends waving and approaching you - their excitement over the rooftop for you two who were the firsts to graduate among them.

then you made your way to them, intending to meet them half way as you’d raised that same hand that was holding the scroll as if to wave and also say ‘well, here’s the piece of paper i sold my soul for.’ but then something caught your other wrist and the world spun - you braced yourself for the ground you were about to crash into but you didn’t think to prepare yourself for what a pair of the softest lips would do to your heart.

skin fair as snow and beautiful black eyelashes fluttering shut were the last thing you saw before you heard a squeal and then came the whistling - probably from you group of friends who must’ve seen it all. and finally, yoongi’s lips left yours.

“that’s my answer,” a heartwarming smile graced his features as tints of pink spread across his face.

“i- i wasn’t expecting any,” you’d dumbly said.

“you can’t expect to tell me the girl i’ve had the biggest crush on has the biggest crush on me too and just walk away either,” he looked at you like he’d always looked at you - with that same polite smile and eyes that only saw you.

you concurred, you might have been late to realize that yoongi never really smiled to anyone when talking and he’d usually look at something as close to a person’s eyes like their hair or their temple instead.

what an unusual way to realize something.

[zephyoongist]

warnings: depiction of toxic relationship and pregnancy.

kim taehyung had only met you a few times.

once and twice for the date. thrice for the pregnancy test which he had only a day to prepare for. and the fourth time, he’d just came over to check up on you and ended up staying over when your ex came knocking on your door at ass crack o’clock.

you’d slipped out of bed and him being him, he’d trailed after you like a groggy puppy barely able to open his eyes when he’d first heard his voice. a sort of low timbre that seems to echo off the walls.

“three months down and you get with another man? really, ___?” 

taehyung isn’t much of a fighter - nor is he a peace keeper but at times like these, his instincts tend to make the calls for him. and before he knew it, his feet are padding over to you but he couldn’t go anywhere past that because you have the chain lock on and he’s forced to stand behind you where he can directly catch the unfamiliar face of a man, flushed and contorted with a sort of ugliness from within.

“we got a divorce, daniel,” you hiss out, “you took away my house, my car and even the dog - what the hell are you doing here?!”

“mark saw you with -” it’s only then that daniel seems to notice the man standing behind you with a hand on your waist and a feral calmness to his stare, “-with him.”

he’d said it as if taehyung is a few levels too low for you - when it’s the opposite. it’s him that’s out of your league. cute and funny and everything your ex-husband wasn’t.

“and?” you huff, exasperated.

then daniel’s eyes shift to you. first, confusion flashes across his face like a firework, then dejection and finally rage. the same old face he’d make when he’s upset over you pointing out his wrongs before he’d turn the table back to you and called you names you’d never call him.

“i thought we were making this work,” he lets out a sound between a scoff and a laugh - nothing that you’ve never seen him do when he tries to make it seem like everything’s going fine until ‘you’ dropped the bomb.

“just because i treated you like a decent human being doesn’t mean i want you to be a constant part of my life again - seriously, go home,” and with that, you slam the door in your ex-husband’s face.

twirling around, taehyung catches the mixture of emotions flooding in your eyes behind a steel wall, “sorry you had to see that.”

“it’s okay,” is his instinctive response, but then he realizes, “actually, it’s not okay - you said he lives two hours from you,” then he remembers that night when you’d cried in his arms right outside of the clinic where you’d just had your doctor’s appointment - the result came a few days after but you already knew, and by god you were terrified, “does he do this all the time?”

“no - this is the first,” you’re holding back tears, “but we have mutual friends and we text sometimes - just to ask how the other is doing because we decided to stay friends - i don’t know where he got the idea that we’re working it out-”

taehyung gathers you in his arms and kisses the top of your head as you try and fail and try again to hold the tears back. 

it’s only when morning comes, when he finds you in the kitchen cooking with a smile as bright as the sun and eyes a tad bit swollen but looking as beautiful as ever, that he carefully tip toes around you.

“i think you should move in with me,” he tries to sound casual as he guides the lukewarm pancake into his mouth.

“taehyung i can’t impose on you like that,” is what you say - and that’s when he looks up, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a sign of sincerity, “i know you’re worried about me but i’m fine.”

so he puts down the fork to reach for your hand across the counter, thumb caressing your knuckles, “i know but it’s okay not to be fine because i’m here now and i wanna take care of you - i wanna take care of our kid. will you let me do that?”

and he’s not sure if it’s love or if it’s a sense of responsibility in him. but when he sees you with your pregnant belly and lame but lovable sense of humor - nine months down the line, as he whispers ‘you can do this’ and ‘push, baby’ into your ears and when he sees your smile as you hold you and his child, he realizes that his love for you has grown as vast as the ocean and as infinite as the galaxy.

five years down the road, and you’re sporting the diamond ring he proposed to you with, he kisses the top of your head and wishes you a good morning whilst you grace him with the most ethereal smile before your eyebrows knit themselves together, turning to your kids.

“jimin, jeongguk! stop running in the house!” taehyung would say you’re a pretty strict mother - but it balances out because he can never say no to his boys.

the two groan, one five and the other three.

“but mom! we’re going on a pirate ship adventure!” the eldest laments and only then does taehyung see the black cap mirroring a pirate’s hat and the banana possibly a sword.

it’s only then do you turn on the stove, turning your full attention to your two rascals, “okay, but where’s the ship?”

the two turn to each other, before the youngest asks “what’s a chip?”

“a ship! like a big tree and it floats on water!” jimin shouts, hands flailing around to emphasize on the floating tree’s size as his brother’s mouth falls to the ground.

“woah,” jeongguk gasps.

“why don’t you go show jeongguk a ship, jimin?” taehyung suggests, picking up on your hint, “you know, that peter pan book i brought home for you guys yesterday - captain hook’s a pirate and he’s got a ship.”

“a ship! a ship!” jeongguk claps at the mere mention of it.

“come on!” jimin beckons before the two of them start zooming to their room and you yelling after them to “slow down, you two!”

“you’ve got some tension built up right here, darling,” he starts massaging your shoulders, sneaking in a kiss which you gladly accept before announcing.

“two,” you hold up two digits in his face, “two kids and i’m done - i told you.”

“yeah,” taehyung agrees.

it’s probably the lack of protest or the way he’s kissing your temple gently - but either way, it’s you that’s murmuring the opposite proposition, “would be nice if we had a girl though.”

“you want me to call my parents?” he beams, “ask if it’s okay send the kids there for the weekend.”

“yes!” you clap once and he’s reminded of his youngest and his habit of clapping at everything that excites him.

“okay,” he manages to slip a kiss on your forehead before two pairs of footsteps comes thundering into the kitchen, screaming “mommy! daddy! can you read us the story?”

you shake your head at the two’s antics, smile curling on your lips, “come on then.”

you make yourself to the room, jimin holding your hand while jeongguk goes on about captain ‘ook’ as taehyung carries him behind you.

meeting you was possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

[zephyoongist]

there wasn’t any particular reason as to why min yoongi chose you to be his mate - his luna.

except for that one fact that you were yourself, mateless. 

you and him are the cursed ones. tainted by a sin of a past life that you couldn’t even remember, you’re cursed to face the wrath of the goddess and the scorn of your people.

but there’d never been such a half-souled alpha. not since a few thousand years ago.

kim taehyung, a man turned beast after spending a whole century searching for his mate, he’d lost his mind and killed every single wolf in his pack before the alpha of the north put an end to his misery.

min yoongi was supposed to put yours to end too.

your conscience had retreated so far back that you were nothing but a feral beast passing through villages like a hurricane, leaving only destruction and death in your wake.

there’s still a deep slanted scar across yoongi’s chest where you’d marred his beautiful skin with your claws.

“warrior,” his voice had been unnervingly calm for someone with a bleeding heart, “come back to your senses. i won’t kill you - death is too kind for the crimes you committed.”

all you heard were your howls, pleading, begging until you’d heart the cry of a human - yoongi’s eyes were still dry and trained on you. it took a several heaves of breath and a few more attempts to claw at his heart to realize your body fingers would do nothing to push off the hand that pinned you down by your throat.

“end me,” your voice was coarse from disuse but hearing it for the first time in a hundred years had flooded your chest with a sort of joy but also pain - you didn’t deserve to become human. not anymore. so you begged again, “please, alpha! end me!”

yoongi never did.

he’d kept his hand on your throat where it was easiest to crush and send you back to the goddess where she’d mend your soul and send you back to earth to live another mateless life for the sin of losing your mind - and it would have been a recurring cycle over and over again if yoongi hadn’t wrapped your shivering body in his button down and carried you in his arm like he was carrying a wounded animal.

the people didn’t understand his choice - some left for a new territory. a new rule but some stayed. if only to ignore your existence altogether.

but yoongi had made it clear upon the red moon that if they rejected you, then they’d be rejecting him - and they should leave for there was no place for a wolf without its alpha.

“i was part of the wars,” it was more than just humans fighting humans. they’d signed a treaty to keep off the wolves’ lands in exchange for their warrior’s strengths during the many wars with many different countries, “i’d started turning back less and stayed in my wolf form for weeks on ends - because humans die so easy, if i’d stayed human even just for a minute, i’d die getting hit by a bullet or die from airborne attacks.”

“when the war ended, i roamed the continent in my wolf form,” because you’d felt more liberation with the winds in your fur than the restrictions of clothes around your body, “before i knew it, it was like i was looking at a film - completely detached from my own doings.”

“movies,” was what he said, “they call films movies now - and they have colors too. would you like to watch one with me?”

it seemed entirely out of character yet wholly yoongi of him. at first, you’d sat on the other end of the couch. your only interactions were the passing of popcorns and looking at each other for the briefest moment when a humorous scene came up before you’d turned away awkwardly.

but then a year turned to two and two turned to a decade. you’d started living as mates. cared for each other like mates would. but you’d never gone beyond light touches and hugs.

and that was why the people never considered you their luna. you didn’t have yoongi’s scent and yoongi didn’t have your scent the way mates would.

so twenty years down the road, with features no older than the day you both met, you’d  finally took the first step.

you kiss him. on an ordinary night, watching movies in your shared living room and he looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. then he hesitantly places his hand on your cheek, as if trying to feel if you were real.

“are you sure?” three words but the weight of them felt like a thousand tons heavier.

so you nod, a smile tucking in the corners of your lips - it’s the first smile that stays longer than a second.

and it’ll be the first in many to come.