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gimmethatagustd · 5 months

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the flower knight (1) | kth + myg

A disciple of the Mugunghwa Temple, Yoongi has lived a pious life free of the vices of the outside world. That is until the temple must become a safehouse for wounded soldiers when war breaks out, and Yoongi catches the eye of a certain military commander.

○ Pairing: Soldier!Taehyung x Healer!Yoongi

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Historical fantasy, magic, pistilverse, strangers to lovers, forbidden love, angst, eventual smut, eventual fluff

○ Word Count: 3,143

○ Warnings: A minor character experiences public humiliation and slut shaming due to religious beliefs (of a fake religion I made up). Additionally, Yoongi is forced to have his body examined for flower markings. This isn't sexual or violent, and Yoongi isn't upset about it, but it still gives me the ick lmfao so I figured I should put a warning just in case.

○ Notes: I added a glossary at the end of the fic for those of you who aren’t familiar with the Pistilverse AU. If you subscribe to me on AO3, this will probably look familiar to you~

○ Post Date: January 2, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Bad things always come in threes.

Yoongi isn’t sure if he believes in destiny, but he does believe in this rule of thirds. He doesn’t remember where he learned the saying; perhaps he learned it from one of the other temple pistils, the older ones who like to tease the younger ones who are gullible and impressionable. Yoongi doesn’t think he was ever one of those young students, but he believes in the saying, doesn’t he?

Life has allotted Yoongi very few tragedies, for which he is grateful. Despite being an orphan, abandoned at the Mugunghwa temple as an infant to be cared for by the monks, he enjoyed a fulfilling childhood. The monks loved Yoongi with unconditional kindness that can only come from someone touched by the grace of the gods. The other orphaned children, those who had yet to have their awakening, played in harmony and were raised to be future disciples – that is, until their subgenders were awakened.

The monks raise the orphans within the confines of the temple grounds, but Yoongi never yearned for what lies beyond the colorful stone walls separating the temple buildings from the outside world. Yoongi had heard enough about the evil of the secular world, where the villages at the bottom of the mountain succumb to greed, violence, and lust and where suffering runs rampant through the townspeople. To Yoongi, it seems that the gods have forsaken such places. He is more interested in maintaining his quiet temple life.

So one might wonder, how does Min Yoongi, a young temple disciple with no knowledge of the world, know that bad things always come in threes if he has yet to experience bad things?

Twenty-one years of peace is far too long of a streak to maintain. At some point, luck runs out. Although Yoongi is a devout disciple of the gods, he can’t help but wonder if sometimes even the gods do not have control over fate.

The morning of the First Bad Thing starts as every morning does: Yoongi wakes with the sun.

Light streams through the thin curtains drawn across his open windows, illuminating his quaint room with hues of orange and yellow. A breeze gently stirs the curtains, causing them to flutter with each new gust of wind.

Children’s laughter filters in from outside. Yoongi smiles when he hears one of the older pistils, Namjoon, scold the children for being loud so early in the morning. No one cares if the children make noise, and Namjoon knows that. That’s why his threats of putting the children to work are empty and half-hearted.

With a longing for simpler times pulling at his heartstrings, Yoongi forces himself out of bed. There is no time to miss the past when the present urges him to get started.

After washing his face in the washbasin in the small bath adjoining his bedroom, he slips into his white linen hanbok, the simple one that doesn’t weigh heavily on his shoulders. The weather has been unusually warm for the spring, and Yoongi isn’t interested in sweating through his clothes while he does his daily chores. Sometimes, he wishes he could wear less restrictive clothes, like the simple linen shirt and shorts he wears to sleep. Unfortunately, the monks have taught the student disciples that such clothing isn’t becoming of pistils. Less cloth means more exposed skin, and with exposed skin comes the risk of showing off one’s awakening mark.

Yoongi watches himself in the small mirror he keeps on top of his dresser, propped against the wall. In the oval glass, he twists to take a peek over his shoulder by turning his head to the side. He can barely see the tips of the barren tree branches that decorate his spine. As a sign that he was maturing from a teen into a young man, the mark of a barren tree sprouted from the base of his spine one morning. It crept up his back, its dark lines eventually breaking off into branches that spread between his shoulder blades.

When Yoongi fastens his hanbok, the black branches are hidden away, just as he was taught.

Having experienced the extremely uncomfortable awakening nearly ten years ago, Yoongi has reached the point where he rarely looks at his awakening mark. It is a reminder of his status in society, a lowly pistil whose primary purpose in life is to tend to the stamen who desire him.

While some orphaned teens he grew up with were disappointed to awaken as pistils, Yoongi was relieved. Becoming a pistil meant he could stay in the temple as a disciple of god. If he had awakened as a stamen by developing the mark of a flower somewhere on his body rather than branches or vines, the monks would have sent him away to the military – where the monks send all stamen orphans once they’ve reached their awakening. Stamen are naturally stronger and more equipped to handle the violence of war than pistils are.

Yoongi is sure the gods did not make him for military life. He feels sorrow merely from stepping on an ant; he could never handle war.

It is a blessing from the gods that Yoongi was left on the temple grounds by his parents. As a temple pistil, he is privileged to live within a community of only pistils, never once having met a stamen aside from his orphan friends once their status was awakened. And even then, those friends were always gone by the following day, whisked away at night to fulfill their duties as peacekeepers.

Warriors.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of war, Yoongi leaves his bedroom and follows the hall toward the front doors of the students’ quarters. All students reside in one dormitory on the west side of the temple grounds, just south of the Mugunghwa garden. Yoongi loves the dormitory. He likes the intricate designs that decorate the walls and the proximity to the garden. But most of all, he likes living with his friends.

Yoongi carries a small wicker basket filled with gardening tools in his arms. He is halfway along the meandering stepping stone path toward the Mugunghwa garden when he sees Namjoon rushing toward him.

“Yoongi hyung!”

Namjoon’s sandals slap against the ground, spraying dirt and gravel into the air as he hurries to reach a confused Yoongi. It’s odd; Namjoon is known for his quiet, studious personality. As one of the most promising students, Namjoon carries himself with poise and a gentle confidence Yoongi has admired ever since the two became friends after their awakenings. Yoongi has never seen Namjoon so animated.

“Be careful,” Yoongi warns, motioning toward the mulched flower beds lining the stepping stone path. A small lizard scurries from a patch of ferns across the stones.

Namjoon quickly sidesteps to avoid running too close to the pathway's edge.

Patches of colorful flowers have already poked out of the ground. These are primarily common flowers: roses, marigolds, and peonies – all with little value aside from being pretty and smelling good. It isn’t until one gets deep into the garden, where the well of golden water is, that the magic can be felt flowing through the plants’ roots.

“H-hyung, oh shit,” Namjoon trips forward and grabs Yoongi’s forearm to steady himself.

Yoongi clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. What has gotten into his friend?

“Don’t make me tell Myeong noona that you’re using such language, Joon-ah.” He speaks through a teasing smile that slowly dissolves into a frown when Namjoon doesn’t smile back. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Junseo,” Namjoon huffs through loud inhales as he tries to recover from the jog up the steep path.

The altitude in the mountains can easily affect one’s head. It’s one of the many reasons Yoongi avoids exercising unless he has to. He’s mostly a bit lazy, but he supposes that even the temple disciples can afford some vices. Laziness is the closest to rebelling he’ll ever get.

“What trouble has he gotten himself into now, hmm? Got bitten by one of the temple cats again?” Yoongi muses. With Junseo, anything is possible. Yoongi swears no one in the entire temple has needed to be rescued from silly mishaps as often as Junseo.

“No, hyung,” Namjoon rushes to speak. His cheeks are pink, and sweat glistens on his top lip. “Junseo got marked .”

The wicker basket of gardening tools barely misses smashing a bed of marigolds when the handle slips from Yoongi’s loose grasp.

Leaving the basket where it falls, Yoongi grabs Namjoon by the wrist. His expression is stony as he asks, “How do you know?”

“I heard Arem speaking with Misuk-ssi,” Namjoon whispers harshly. He’s breathing heavily as he practically drags Yoongi down the stone pathway toward the dormitory. “She asked her to find Junseo.”

There is nothing more that Namjoon needs to say; everyone knows what it means to be called upon by one of the temple leaders.

The two men are silent as they weave through the stone paths connecting the temple buildings in a winding journey meant to mimic the peacefulness of strolling through the woods. Yoongi has yet to explore the woods, but he supposes he understands the meaning behind the landscaping.

Their journey today is anything but peaceful.

At first, Yoongi is afraid that their frantic hurrying toward the grand temple courtyard will cause suspicion – and he’s sure he and Namjoon aren’t supposed to know about Junseo. But it becomes clear that it isn’t just Yoongi and Namjoon who are privy to the scandal. Despite the early hour, the entire student body is trying to meander toward the courtyard.

If gossip doesn’t bring the students out into the open, Junseo’s cries do.

Yoongi doesn’t hear the wailing until he and Namjoon near the grand temple, where prayers and other religious ceremonies are held. The grand temple is also where the temple leaders reside, though Yoongi has never been in the wing with their living quarters. Trespassing is forbidden, but Yoongi is not interested in their living quarters. He has never admitted it out loud, but some of the leaders scare him.

Misuk and Insu are the most intimidating of all the temple leaders and monks combined, so naturally, they are the leaders whose feet Junseo grovels at as he weeps. The young man’s face is wet with tears and lined with red marks on his cheeks as though he has been clawing at his face. Seeing him with clothes and other small trinkets scattered around his body, his white hanbok soiled by dirt, makes Yoongi’s blood run cold.

“Pick yourself up, Junseo,” Misuk commands. The refreshing breeze has died down, making Misuk's words cut through the spring air and echo between buildings.

“Please don’t make me leave, seonsaengnim!” Junseo presses his forehead to the stone path at the base of the temple stairs. “I am nothing without Mugunghwa!”

Misuk and Insu stand a few steps above him and watch him with eyes as dark as the center of the well of gold water in the garden. Yoongi has never seen such icy glares. Until now, nothing has disrupted the peacefulness of the temple. Sure, they all have occasional quarrels; it’s hard not to bicker when living in such a tight-knit community. Scandal, though, is unheard of. And this certainly is a scandal.

“You have defiled your body, Kang Junseo,” Insu finally speaks, his voice as tight as the grimace on his face. “You are no longer welcome on sacred grounds.”

When Junseo rises to his knees, the group of onlookers gasp. Even Namjoon inhales sharply, the sound quiet but loud enough for Yoongi to hear from where he stands beside him.

Yoongi is silent as he watches Junseo hurry to pull his clothes tighter to his body, but the damage has been done. A large rip in the back of his hanbok runs from just below the collar down to the base of his spine. When he twists his torso, slivers of skin peek out from the rips – skin decorated with the prettiest marks Yoongi has ever seen.

Dozens of flowers line the branches on Junseo’s back. Yoongi can’t make out the types of flowers from where he stands, the markings too small for him to see any details, but he’s close enough to be both amazed and horrified by the variation of colors on the young man’s skin.

Junseo has many flowers on his back, which only means one thing: Junseo is no longer a virgin. From the looks of it, he lost his virginity a long time ago, or he has taken on many lovers in a short period— many lovers.

Whispers erupt around them, but Yoongi can only hear his blood rushing in his ears. It isn’t until he feels lightheaded that he realizes he’s been holding his breath. He’s never seen the mark of a stamen on a pistil’s body before. Disciples are forbidden from having romantic relationships or engaging in sexual activity. One must be pure for the gods, dedicating their time to worship and the betterment of their community rather than to bodily pleasure.

Not to mention the fate of pistils who are outed for having a stamen mark – let alone multiple – out of wedlock.

“What will happen to him?” Yoongi asks Namjoon, never once taking his eyes off Junseo as he gathers his belongings into his arms.

Namjoon shrugs, his eyes, too, still on Junseo. “I don’t know, work at a brothel, most likely. No one will want to marry him, and no self-respecting business owner will hire him.”

Pressing his fingers to his lips, Yoongi tries to suppress a gasp without looking too obvious that he’s shocked by Namjoon’s prediction. “A brothel?” Yoongi knows what one is, but he cannot begin to imagine what it would be like to live and work in one.

“Mhm,” Namjoon hums. “It’s awful. Many brothel pistils run out of room on their branches, so they go through a second awakening. Or a third and fourth. I’ve heard rumors of some brothel pistils completely covered in flowers.”

One awakening was painful enough for Yoongi. To go through multiple… he doesn’t even want to consider it.

In front of him, Junseo stands with his belongings clutched to his chest. He has stopped crying and now stares ahead with a blank expression as though he doesn’t see anything at all. The look makes bile bubble up Yoongi’s throat. Silently, Junseo turns his back on the temple leaders and walks with squared shoulders across the courtyard toward the entrance of the temple grounds.

The students dissipate in waves as Junseo walks through the grounds. There is nothing else to see here; no more drama to ogle. Even Misuk and Insu leave, taking slow, purposeful steps to their wing of the grand temple. In a matter of minutes, the courtyard is empty, aside from Yoongi, Namjoon, and a handful of other students who have returned to talking amongst themselves or studying. Junseo is merely a speck in the distance, moving like an ant until he turns a corner and Yoongi can no longer see him.

Just like that, Junseo is gone, and the temple returns to how it was as if there had never been a Junseo at all.

The only change to temple life after Junseo’s dramatic departure is the immediate implementation of what the monks call a “purity sweep.” They insist to the students that this is a one-time occurrence, merely the opportunity for temple leaders to ensure that no one else has fallen prey to worldly temptations. If the rest of the students are well-behaved, purity sweeps won’t be needed.

Although Yoongi is a virgin, he trembles with nerves when he stands outside the infirmary a week later with Namjoon at his side.

“It’ll be alright,” Namjoon reassures Yoongi, gently squeezing the nape of his neck. “It’ll be over before you know it. I can even go first if you’d like.” Namjoon is too kind for his own good.

Yoongi shakes his head even though having Namjoon go first would be a source of comfort for him. His nerves are irrational. If he was a good student, he’d know how to meditate the fear away like Namjoon had. “No, no, I will be fine.”

Bracing himself for the unknown, Yoongi enters the infirmary. There is a monk there to guide him to the correct examination room. Their sandals click against the stone flooring and echo through the hall. Yoongi doesn’t need the monk to show him where to go, but he doesn’t say anything. Due to his affinity for plants, Yoongi has trained to become a temple healer. Thus, he knows his way around the infirmary due to his regular training hours.

Although magic does not run through the veins of pistils, the Mugunghwa carry magic in their petals from the gold water in the enchanted well at the center of the Mugunghwa garden. Monks like Yoongi, who is patient and kind, know how to nurture the magic within those plants, using their petals to create healing potions that the monks send throughout the kingdom.

Reaching the correct room, the monk allows Yoongi to enter first. He gives Yoongi a gentle smile and gestures to a wooden table against the wall.

“You may remove your hanbok and place it there,” the monk instructs. He’s an unfamiliar face to Yoongi, which isn’t surprising. The Mugunghwa temple is one of the largest in the Mountain region; it’s impossible to know everyone.

Silently, Yoongi follows the monk’s instructions. He shivers once he is standing in nothing but his underwear despite the room being almost uncomfortably warm. Unsure of what to do with himself, Yoongi stands stiffly with his arms at his sides. The stance seems good enough, for the monk doesn’t say anything as he walks a tight circle around Yoongi’s rigid body, looking for any splotches of color along the branches covering Yoongi’s back.

Sweat beads at Yoongi’s hairline, making his blonde bangs stick to his skin. What if the monk finds a blemish on Yoongi’s skin and thinks it’s a stamen’s flower? Will they immediately toss him out like Junseo? Would Yoongi have the chance to explain himself?

Questions swarm his mind, churning around until his brain is clouded with nonsense. He’s so stressed that he nearly misses the light touch on his shoulder.

“Yoongi?” The monk calls out softly, making Yoongi blink rapidly.

“Yes, seonsaengnim?”

“You may get dressed. The examination is over.”

With a sigh of relief, Yoongi scrambles to put his clothes on. As he hurries out of the infirmary to wait for Namjoon in the courtyard, he sends a silent prayer to the gods that the other students remain pure like they’re supposed to. Yoongi doesn’t want to go through another purity sweep ever again.

Series Masterlist

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

(Borrowed from here and revised to fit my fic)

Pistilverse AU - A South Korean fanfic trope wherein almost all humans experience an "awakening" during puberty that assigns them into one of two botanically-inspired groups: Pistils and Stamens. These groups are denoted by marks on the person's body, similar to tattoos.

Pistil and Stamens - Pistils develop a mark of a barren tree that appears along their spine after their awakening, while stamens develop a flower somewhere on their body after their awakening.

Awakening - The moment a flower or tree appears on a person’s body, signifying their status as a pistil or stamen. You could look at it as a coming-of-age moment in a person’s life. These are typically painful for pistils. A pistil might experience more than one awakening if their tree becomes too full of flowers.

Marks/Marking - When a pistil sleeps with a stamen, the stamen’s flower blooms on the pistil’s tree branches. The number of flowers a pistil has is proportional to that of the stamens they had sex with. In this fic, pistils with many flowers are considered promiscuous and experience slut shaming based on religion.

Marked - The term used to describe a pistil who has received a stamen’s flower on their body.

Mugunghwa - The national flower of South Korea.

Gukseon - A Chief officer of a Hwarang group. The Hwarang were an elite warrior group in Silla, an ancient kingdom of the Korean Peninsula until the 10th century.

Seonsaengnim - A respectful honorific for a teacher.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x yoongi #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #taegi fanfic #the flower knight

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namjoonaaah · 1 year

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cinematic parallels - haegeum vs the dark knight

#agust d #haegeum #yoongi #armysource #dailybts #dailybangtan #bangtanarmynet #cyphernet #networkbangtan #userbangtan #btsgif #btsedit #the dark knight #bts #mine:gifs #immediately thought of this #still processing

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bamshi · 1 year

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#lockscreen #backround #bts #bts layouts #wallpaper #min yoongi #min yoonki #bts army #btsedit #bts yoongi #d day #d day tour #d day album #d day is coming #d day knight #d day landings #agustd

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ravenswritingroom · 1 year

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Raven’s Writing Room Masterlist

BNHA

Bakugou Katsuki One shots series

Touya Todoroki One shots series

Keigo Takami One shots series

Shoto Todoroki One shots series

Kirashima Eijiro One shots Series

BTS

Kim Seokjin One shots Series

Min Yoongi One shots Series

Jung Hoseok One shots Series

Kim Namjoon One shots Series

Park Jimin One Shots Series

Kim Taehyung One shots Series

Jeon Jungkook One shots Series

Vampire Knight

Kaname Kuran One shots Series

Zero Kiryu One shots Series

Howl’s moving castle

Howl Pendragon One shots Series

Sophie hatter One shots

Morning Potions and Soft Touches X witch reader {fluff}

Series

Calsifer One shots series

The Arcana

Asra alnazar One shots Series

Voltron

Keith Kogane One shots Series

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rec-review8890 · 2 years

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Suga | Forbidden love!au RECs

(💦) ~ Smut , (🐑) ~ Fluff , (👊) ~ Angst ,

(📝) ~ Series , (🗒) ~ One-Shot/Dribble ,

(💜) ~ Personal Favorite

Request Guidelines | Fic Rec ML

NONE of these works are mine. Give all your love to the authors and their works. The links will either bring you to the Tumblr page or a Ao3 page of the work.

Title: Rose Garden Dreams 💦🐑👊🗒

Author: @glossgf

Summary: Knight!yoongi x princess!reader.

↳ “You, a princess not yet betrothed, and your knight, Yoongi, have fallen in love. But what happens when a prince asks for your hand in marriage? What will you and Yoongi do then…?”

Title: Forbi(t)en Love 💦🐑👊🗒💜

Author: @krreader

Summary: Also supernatural and college!au.

↳ “You were supposed to hate each other.. supposed, is the important word.”

Title: Captive Love 💦👊📝

Author: @poppywrites41

Summary: HIATUS series. Prince!Suga x maid!reader.

Title: Teacher’s Pet 💦🐑👊📝

Author: @ysljoon

Summary: Currently 2 part series. Teacher!Suga x student!reader.

↳ “Your economics professor with a failing marriage takes an interest in you and you want him just as badly as he does.”

Title: Piano Professor 🐑🗒

Author: @sweetwritertanya

Summary: Piano teacher!Suga x Student!reader.

↳ “You have a big crush on professor Yoongi, your piano teacher. On the last day of his class, there is a practical exam but it turns out it wasn’t the exam you weren’t ready for.”

#suga #yoongi #suga bts #Yoongi bts #fic recs #bts #forbidden!au #forbidden!au suga #forbidden!au yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #teacher!yoongi #professor!yoongi #prince!yoongi #vampire!yoongi #knight!yoongi

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bae-hupsax · 1 year

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Hectic

#⭒✶°• ✧° .⋆✸° ᝪ ✫ ˖ ⋆⭒✶°• ✧° .⋆✸° ᝪ ✫ ˖ ⋆#bts #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #rm #rkive #rap mon bts #namjoon #fy #grungy style #green #messy moodboard #moon knight

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creation-kpop · 1 year

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🙃Oi! para todos tudo bom com vocês?? Espero que sim porque comigo está tudo ótimo essa conta fiz novamente é um grupo aq do 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 se vocês quiserem entrar pode falar com 𝗔𝗗𝗠 @gg-soft-nati ou @jennizx-web criada para repostar fotos e novidades no mundo do 𝒌-𝒑𝒐𝒑!! todo tipo de 𝒌-𝑷𝑶𝑷 essa conta! tem os mais 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒛𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒔 são 💜𝐁𝐓𝐒💜

💓𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤💓!! 𝐌𝐚𝐬 qualquer um é 𝐛𝐞𝐦-𝐯𝐤𝐧𝐝𝐨!! vocês são 𝐛𝐞𝐦-𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬 𝐎𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐝𝐚 para ler até aqui tenha um 𝐛𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐢𝐚|❤️🫰🏼

#𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 #bts moodboard #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #btsedit #bts taehyung #bts icons #bts jungkook #bts v #bts jhope #bts jimin #black pink #moodboard #moon knight #moooi #moondrop #incorrect kpop quotes #kpop #kpop aesthetic

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lilprincegoo · 1 year

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little soldier boy by theimpossibleimpala

yoongi/jungkook

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragon Min Yoongi, Knight Jeon Jungkook, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fire Powers, Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Declarations Of Love, Blood and Violence

14.2k words

rating: M

“No, no. You’re still injured. You’re tired. And you’re human. You need proper rest.” “You’re a thousand-year-old dragon, you need rest. You’ve opened your home up to me, and I feel as though I've taken advantage. Please, I insist you take your bed back.” Yoongi shakes his head, stubborn, “No. You are my guest. You should sleep there.” Jungkook glowers, poking his tongue in his cheek and saying, “Make me.” “Fine, I will,” Yoongi’s eyes flash yellow, the pupils turning into dark slits.

#ship: yoonkook #au: fantasy #au: dragons #dragon yoongi #knight jungkook #hurt/comfort #injuries #light angst #getting together #jungkook ship #yoongi ship #ao3 #bts ficrec #bts fic rec

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adonis-koo · 2 years

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So yk how when you finish reading something you kinda forget the meaning of life is and don't know what to do with yourself? Yeah, wicked has broken me idk what life is anymore it's so good. ALSO I have theories, probably bad ones to be fair. The assassination is an inside job, right? And I'm pretty sure we know who the assassin is, or at least who hired them, and I've got my suspects. And when is this brother going to make an unwanted appearance and ruin thing's? WAIT IS HE GONNA BE YOONGI-

Hahaha I’m so flattered that wicked did that too you! As for who the assassin was, is a bit more irrelevant, who sent the assassin however 👀👀👀👀 VERY important. LOL and when the half brother makes an unwanted appearance, he will! But…hmmm…I think you guys might be surprised when he does show up 🤪

#missy answers #fic: wicked #anon #this ask was sent awhile ago! but Yoongi was revealed to be a knight so I figured I wouldn’t need to fully address that #haha unless-

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gimmethatagustd · 5 months

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the flower knight (2) | kth + myg

○ Pairing: Soldier!Taehyung x Healer!Yoongi

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Historical fantasy, magic, pistilverse, strangers to lovers, forbidden love, angst, eventual smut, eventual fluff

○ Word Count: 3,579

○ Warnings: Brief but perhaps a little unsettling depiction of injuries. Reference to minor character death (due to injury, but no actual violence occurs in this chapter).

○ Notes: Hi pls enjoy Chapter 2! I apologize for the angst 😶

○ Post Date: January 8, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Yoongi is one of the finest healers of all the temple pistils, though he would never admit this fact himself. Humble to a fault, Yoongi tends to his duties at the infirmary with humility and sound devotion – as every pistil healer should. The role suits him best. He lacks the creativity required to care for the children as Namjoon does, and he isn’t particularly social enough for duties around the temple grounds that require much human interaction, such as cooking in the dining hall or teaching religion. He can stay quiet and focused in the infirmary, with only the other healers around. Luckily, the other healers are just as soft-spoken and pleasant as Yoongi, so he rarely has any troubles with them.

Except for today.

Bad things always come in threes, and the Second Bad Thing rolls through the temple grounds like the thunderstorm approaching from the east, a wall of dark gray clouds barreling toward them like enemies at the front lines. As much as he tries to be optimistic, Yoongi felt something eerie ache in his bones as he hurried to the infirmary this morning, his woven basket carrying Mugunghwa petals and stems clutched to his chest.

Nature is sacred to the Mugunghwa monks, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t terrifying. Nature is the gods’ way of speaking, and sometimes, Yoongi would prefer not to know what they have to say.

“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Areum says absentmindedly as she uses a mortar and pestle to grind up Mugunghwa petals.

Yoongi sits on the floor on a small cushion with his legs crossed, his own mortar and pestle on a small table in front of him. He grinds the seeds, and Seungwoo, who sits beside him, grinds the stems. The three healers work efficiently, each with their own tasks to quicken the process. Making medicine isn’t difficult, but it can be time-consuming. Magic is a finicky thing, Yoongi has learned during his healer training. The Mugunghwa are sensitive; any wrong step in the process and the entire batch of medicine must be thrown out.

“I’m afraid it may,” Seungwoo says with a long sigh, “Which means the children will be stuck inside and restless. And annoying.”

“You’re so cranky, Seungwoo. Don’t you remember being a child?” Areum teases him.

Seungwoo points his pestle at Areum, who sits opposite them at the table. “I remember you being annoying as a child!”

The two pistils bicker as they have since they were children. Yoongi finds it distracting, but he can’t deny that it’s also rather endearing. Since Junseo’s banishment and the start of purity sweeps, the temple grounds haven’t felt the same. Yoongi wakes to less laughter coming from the courtyards, and fewer friends hang out in common areas like the dining hall and prayer rooms, instead choosing to socialize almost exclusively in the dormitories.

Yoongi can’t blame them. He, too, is still shaken from that fateful day and the subsequent purity sweeps – though they haven’t been frequent, they are still uncomfortable. Yoongi no longer worries that he will be mistakenly accused of being marked, but the sweeps make him sweat anyway.

“I heard Misuk-ssi talking about the war this morning,” Areum says lowly.

She quickly takes a peek at the door. It’s still shut, and the walls in the temple are thick, so it is unlikely that anyone will hear the three healers speaking. Areum is accustomed to sneaking around, though.

Yoongi hasn’t forgotten that she is the one Namjoon heard speaking with Misuk-ssi about Junseo.

“Oh?” Seungwoo asks with a raise of his eyebrows, though he doesn’t look up from his work grinding the Mugunghwa stems.

“Don’t you want to know what she said?”

Seungwoo rolls his eyes. “You will tell me regardless, will you not?”

“What about you?” Areum turns to Yoongi, clearly unsatisfied with Seungwoo’s response.

Yoongi isn’t fond of gossip, but he is curious about news of the war. He knows very little about it, preferring to live in bliss. Politics and religion are strictly separated in their kingdom. The only engagement monks have with politicians and soldiers is distributing medicine, and Yoongi is perfectly content with that.

“I’m a bit curious…” Yoongi says quietly, only meeting Areum’s gaze for a moment before he quickly looks back at his word. The seeds are a fine powder now.

“Ugh, fine,” Areum huffs. Yoongi doesn’t understand why; she’s getting what she wants, isn’t she? A captive audience?

“Misuk-ssi received a letter from someone, I don’t know who, about a battle near the temple! Only a three-day trip,” Areum talks excitedly, a gleam in her eyes. Some people thrive off of gossip, Yoongi thinks. He hopes he never becomes one of those people.

“That… is a very bad thing…” Seungwoo stares at her with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, yes,” Areum visibly deflates with sagged shoulders and a pouted mouth, “But how interesting, right? So many things are happening. Nothing ever happens here.”

“I would rather nothing happen than war,” Seungwoo mutters as he gets up. He holds his hand out for Yoongi to pass him the mortar of ground seeds. “Imagine the other kingdom learns of our golden water and sends their soldiers after us. What would become of us, then?”

The conversation ends there as Seungwoo and Areum work together to light the fire needed to heat the water they’ll use for the medicine, but Seungwoo’s question lingers in Yoongi’s mind for the rest of the morning.

What would become of them?

He has heard of horrible things happening to pistils who cross paths with the stamen soldiers from enemy kingdoms, things he would never repeat to anyone, things he can hardly visualize.

Yoongi wonders when Misuk received that letter and where it came from. Letters often take days to reach the temple due to its remote location. For all they know, the enemy soldiers could now be on their way to the temple.

Or, worse, already here and biding time until the opportune moment to attack.

Sufficiently disturbed, Yoongi finishes his duties at the infirmary in time for lunch with a heart more thunderous than the weather. He should have never given in to Areum’s need for gossip.

Yoongi and Namjoon are clearing their table in the dining hall when the gongs sound. They stare at each other for a split second before jumping into action, leaving their things behind as they rush to the exit. Namjoon sprints off toward the center of the temple grounds, where the children’s classrooms are, while Yoongi rushes toward the entrance where the infirmary is located.

In his twenty-one years at the temple, Yoongi has never heard the gongs, though he has been trained on what to do if he does hear them. Every monk is told to get to their home base – whichever part of the temple grounds they have a duty to. Namjoon cares for the children, so he is responsible for watching over them in an emergency, whereas Yoongi must care for the sick and injured, if there are any.

It is easier to know what to do when you are told by your elders in the off-chance that something might happen. It is more difficult when something is happening.

The monks push each other out of the way in the halls. Yoongi is nearly knocked over more than once by a panicking peer; not everyone is cut out for handling emergencies. Yoongi isn’t even sure if he is, but his body operates on its own, propelling him through the building’s front doors.

Outside, everything is gray. Sheets of water rain down hard enough to knock a few children over as they scramble through the courtyard to seek shelter. Mud cakes their white hanboks and slides down their limbs. Yoongi can’t tell who they are; the rain obscures everything, turning the world into a blurry mess he can’t blink away.

The gods have something to say, and Yoongi doesn’t think it’s anything good.

Panic finally sets into Yoongi’s chest when the cold water hits him in the face as he sprints across the courtyard. He can hardly breathe with the rain getting in his nose and mouth. Twice he slips and falls on his butt in puddles of mud. A sharp pain shoots through his pelvis, and he thinks he may have landed on a rock. He can’t tell if the back of his thigh is bleeding because the wetness he feels could be rain, mud, blood, or a mixture of all three.

A battle near the temple!

Areum’s voice chants to the beat of Yoongi’s sandals slapping against the soggy ground and the continuous ringing of the gong.

Only a three-day trip.

Yoongi doesn’t stop running until the infirmary is in view. Its green walls and intricate patterning stand out amongst the gray, as does the large group of men clad in military uniforms and body armor – blurry splotches of red in Yoongi’s vision, the color of their kingdom.

The scene before him shakes him to his core. He finds himself rooted to his spot as other healer pistils run back and forth between the infirmary and the group of stamens outside. There are dozens of them, more than there are beds in the infirmary, Yoongi is positive. They’re soaked through their uniforms, thick red fabrics, leather, and armor drenched. Yoongi can’t imagine how heavy it must be, especially considering how malnourished most of the men look. Very few of them stand on their own, most having to be propped up against the infirmary walls or leaned against each other for support.

As Yoongi walks through the group, he meets the eyes of men who look at him but don’t see him. They stare into the wall of rain unblinking; others don’t even open their eyes. Some of them cry – the ones Yoongi thinks are younger. Some of them scream.

Nearly every stamen Yoongi walks past is injured. The closer he gets, the more blood he sees. It flows in rivers from large gashes in the men’s arms and abdomens, mixing with rainwater and mud. There are men missing eyes and ears, fingers, and even an entire hand. One man has an arrow sticking out of his chest. It’s splinted at the end like someone tried ripping it out and broke it in half. Yoongi worries the man may not be with them because of how still his chest is.

“Yoongi-ya!”

Through the rain, Yoongi sees one of the lead healers, Hoseok, waving at him. He hurries to the pistil’s side with his hands above his eyes to shield himself from the rain.

“Come with me,” Hoseok shouts over his shoulder, already rushing into the infirmary.

Yoongi nearly slips on the wet floor when he steps inside but manages to keep up with Hoseok’s quick pace. The infirmary isn’t immune to chaos, either. Monks rush past each other, passing medicinal salves, bandages, and medical instruments. He peeks inside the rooms as he follows Hoseok down the hall. Tables are blanketed with sheets and pillows as makeshift beds, and even the tubs used to wash patients are being used as beds.

“This one,” Hoseok holds open the door to one of the patient rooms near the back of the infirmary, where it’s not as loud, away from the chaos at the front entrance.

Yoongi is surprised to find a crowd inside the room. Multiple men hover around a singular cot on the floor. They kneel shoulder to shoulder as though guarding the man lying on the cot, and Hoseok has to shout at them multiple times before they clear a path for him.

“He’s struggling to breathe,” one of the men calls out once the room has quieted. He kneels near the injured man’s head, one of his hands gripping the man’s shoulder possessively.

Hoseok beckons Yoongi closer before sinking to his knees beside the cot. “We need to remove his armor.”

After a few seconds, Hoseok stares up at Yoongi, his mouth set in a thin line.

“Yoongi, I need you to help me remove his armor and the rest of his uniform so we can see where he is injured.”

“I– Me?”

“Yoongi, now!”

Immediately falling to his knees, Yoongi scrambles to find the clasps and buckles that hold the man’s uniform together. He tries to ignore how hard his hands shake and worries he will ruin his reputation for being an excellent healer if he appears too nervous in front of Hoseok.

The thing is, Yoongi has never met a stamen before, let alone touched one.

He doesn’t think the stamen orphans who live at the temple until their awakening count since they immediately leave once awoken. Those stamens are just kids, not grown men. It’s different.

But it can’t be different, not right now when this man is dying.

It only takes a few minutes for Hoseok and Yoongi to remove the stamen’s armor and cut open his shirt, but minutes are a matter of life and death in a situation like this.

The severity of the situation is confirmed when Hoseok removes the final piece of fabric.

Someone in the room gasps. Yoongi worries it may have been himself, but he barely holds onto his mental state to know. All he can do is stare at the open wounds that litter the man’s torso. Gashes and holes reveal flayed flesh, most cut deep enough to expose bones. Yoongi wonders how the man’s internal organs have managed to stay inside him.

Yoongi looks up at the man at the head of the cot with confusion. “How did his armor not protect him?”

“Their swords were, were–” the man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “It was magic I have never seen before. Swords that cut through metal armor like a knife through sundubu.”

Hoseok grabs Yoongi’s shoulders and squeezes him so tightly that Yoongi lets out a pained whimper.

“Yoongi, I need you to go to the well and bring back as much water as you can carry as fast as you can. Do you understand me?” He shakes Yoongi’s shoulders, fire and fear in his eyes. “Gukseon Kim’s life depends on it.”

The gods must favor Yoongi because it stops raining once he reaches the well. He doesn’t have time but must rest for a few moments to catch his breath, leaning up against the old stone as he gasps. His calves burn, and blisters have formed from the slide of his feet in his wet sandals. His entire body feels pruned; he’s sure he looks like a wet cat.

Why had Hoseok chosen him for this task? Yoongi is young, and although he has a good reputation, he is merely a student. He has much more to accomplish before he can call himself a true healer, yet Hoseok chose him to aid in caring for a soldier.

Not just any soldier, Yoongi thinks as he draws the golden water from the well in as large of a bucket as he can safely carry. The patient dying on that cot is the leader of the military unit seeking shelter at the temple, one of the highest commanding soldiers in their entire kingdom.

And if he dies, it will be Yoongi’s fault.

Yoongi safely returns the bucket to the infirmary full of the sacred gold water that feeds the magic of the Mugunghwa. Ingesting the magic from the source is far more powerful than the medicine the monks make, but it’s a remedy that is saved for only the most terrible of injuries. This poor stamen fits the criteria.

“Give him the water using this,” Hoseok thrusts a small cup into Yoongi’s hands. “If he doesn’t swallow, just give him small droplets so he at least has something in his system.”

Taking the cup and a smaller bucket Hoseok has used to portion off some of the water, Yoongi kneels beside the man’s head. Hoseok uses the rest of the water to cleanse the stamen’s wounds and sew him back together. It’s a grisly affair that Yoongi can’t help but watch, even as sick as it makes him to see a human’s innards up close.

It’s just Yoongi, Hoseok, and one other soldier in the room now. Seokjin, Yoongi has learned, is the second-in-command. He sits across from Yoongi, never once taking his eyes off Hoseok as he works to put his leader back together. Yoongi doesn’t blame Seokjin for being cautious; he can’t imagine the horrors they’ve all gone through.

“Will he live?” Seokjin asks quietly. He intertwines their fingers as he looks down at the injured man.

“I hope so,” Hoseok replies with bloody arms and a thin mouth.

The soldier’s lips are chapped and caked with blood, but they’re parted just enough for Yoongi to slip the lip of the cup between them. Carefully, he lets a few droplets of water trickle into his mouth. Yoongi can see the stamen’s features better now that he is up close. His long, dark hair that was once tied up now cascades around his shoulders, made messy by Yoongi and Hoseok removing his upper garments. His tan skin looks pale from the loss of blood, but a regal air about him is undeniable – it’s in the sharpness of his nose and prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes and the heart-shaped bow of his upper lip make him look almost content as he lies there completely still.

He’s pretty, Yoongi thinks as he gives the stamen more water. Even covered in mud and blood, this man is pretty.

“What is his name?” Yoongi looks to Seokjin because Hoseok has already told him “Kim,” but Yoongi wants to know more than that.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin whispers, his gaze falling on the dying man instead of Yoongi. “His name is Taehyung, and he is my dearest friend.”

As if stirred by the sound of his name, Taehyung’s face twitches. The movement is subtle, but Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch it. He quickly lifts the cup to Taehyung’s lips again and watches with joy as the man swallows the small sips Yoongi gives him. He isn’t conscious, but he’s alive. As long as Yoongi can keep him drinking, he’ll survive.

Yoongi knows it.

Some of the soldiers die.

Since he is only a student, Yoongi isn’t required to assist the lead healers with the burials. His help is most valuable in the infirmary because there are more soldiers in critical care than there are lining up to return to the Earth. As important as the afterlife is, Yoongi cares far more about the living. He rushes between patients’ rooms carrying medicine and water, bringing clean rags, washing old ones, and repairing broken medical equipment. He hardly sees Namjoon in the days following the soldiers’ arrival, but there’s far too much on Yoongi’s plate to think about socialization.

On the fourth day, Yoongi finds that his responsibilities will increase exponentially when he runs into Hoseok in the courtyard. Yoongi carries a small bucket of gold water to the infirmary, as requested by Seungwoo, who is in charge of the students while the lead healers are busy.

“Hobi hyung,” Yoongi greets with a bow of his head. Very few older monks allow students to speak to them more casually, but Hoseok has always taken a liking to Yoongi, even when he’s tough on him.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Hoseok admits. His voice is hoarse from shouting orders, and dark bags circle his eyes. “I need you to care for Gukseon Kim, and before you say no–” Hoseok holds up his hand when Yoongi begins to protest, “I need you to understand that there is no other student at this temple who I trust more than you to care for this man.”

Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek and stares at the bucket he carries. His reflection sparkles up at him in the gold water, masking how tired he feels.

Is he skilled enough to care for the leader of a ferocious military group? What will happen to him if their gukseon dies under his care? How could Yoongi forgive himself, even if nothing happened to him?

“Okay,” Yoongi says quietly, returning Hoseok’s gaze.

“You’ll do well,” Hoseok claps Yoongi on the shoulder, firm and proud, “And if you need anything, you come to me.”

Yoongi nods, not needing to be told twice. He would have gone to Hoseok anyway.

“We will relocate him to the dormitories, the room adjacent to yours, for easier access. We will need the extra space in the infirmary anyway.”

Junseo’s room was the room adjacent to Yoongi’s.

“Do you need help moving him?” Yoongi asks, but Hoseok shakes his head.

“Seungwoo and some others are handling that. Gukseon Kim will be ready for you by this afternoon.”

Yoongi watches Hoseok cut through the courtyard toward the grand temple, likely for his midday prayer. Yoongi has spent all his prayers on the pretty gukseon in the past four days, though he’ll never admit it. He doesn’t necessarily feel shame, but it feels strange to think so much about another person – especially a stamen. Stamens are hardened, built for violence, yet the gukseon was soft.

With a sigh, Yoongi reminds himself that it’s likely Taehyung was only soft because he was unconscious and returns to the chaos of the infirmary. At least in a few hours, he’ll have a more peaceful location to care for Taehyung.

Series Masterlist

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

(Borrowed from here and revised to fit my fic)

Pistilverse AU - A South Korean fanfic trope wherein almost all humans experience an “awakening” during puberty that assigns them into one of two botanically-inspired groups: Pistils and Stamens. These groups are denoted by marks on the person’s body, similar to tattoos.

Pistil and Stamens - Pistils develop a mark of a barren tree that appears along their spine after their awakening, while stamens develop a flower somewhere on their body after their awakening.

Marked - The term used to describe a pistil who has received a stamen’s flower on their body.

Mugunghwa - The national flower of South Korea.

Gukseon - A Chief officer of a Hwarang group. The Hwarang were an elite warrior group in Silla, an ancient kingdom of the Korean Peninsula until the 10th century.

Seonsaengnim - A respectful honorific for a teacher.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

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moonchild1 · 10 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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bamshi · 1 year

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#backround #bts #bts layouts #lockscreen #wallpaper #bts yoongi #bts army #min yoongi #d day #d day is coming #d day tour #d day knight #dday concert #road to dday #agustd dday #d day landings #d day album

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captain-joongz · 5 months

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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

859 notes · View notes

casuallyimagining · 5 months

Text

Family. Duty. Self. || myg

Less of Them - One: Family. Duty. Self.

NSFW. minors dni Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, established relationship, star-crossed lovers, angst, smut, fluff Word Count: 9,968

Summary: As the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

Warnings: weaponry (swords), language; nsfw: awkward first-time, hand-job, fingering, unprotected sex

Notes: Thanks to @oddinary4bts for really coming in clutch and helping with the smut and to both her and @daechwitatamic for encouraging me to make it more sad.

The book mc is reading at the beginning is Wurthering Heights.

"I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them." - Lang Leav

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The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind.

The clank of metal against metal grates against your ears and jolts you out of your book. It’s a nice day, and you had some free time; you thought that maybe it would be nice to read outside for a change. But now, you aren’t sure that was the greatest idea you’d ever had.

…shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully-

The soft thump of a dulled blade hitting the softness of a body and an exasperated curse again draws you away.

“Again,” a gruff voice commands, and there’s the clink of metal clashing briefly.

Another voice groans. “This is pointless.”

“Your father told me to teach you how to fight,” the first voice says. “Again.”

You roll your eyes. They’d been at this for a week now. You were starting to believe that maybe it was pointless.

It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the “missis,” an individual whose existence I had never previously-

Metal against metal once again, and then the clatter of a sword falling into the dirt. A frustrated sigh.

I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me-

A soft thud, then, “Shit.”

I bowed and waited, thinking-

The shriek of metal on metal, then the clatter of a sword hitting the dirt. “Shit!”

I bowed and-

“Take a break,” the gruff voice says, and the second voice grumbles something in response. “Don’t go far. We have more work to do.”

You try to go back to your book, you really do. But then a body plops down under the tree beside you. Ever so gently, the book is taken from your hands. He keeps a finger in the pages to mark where you’d left off, but he turns the book to inspect the cover and the spine. He hums. It’s his book.

“You shouldn’t torture him like that,” you chide once he’s returned the book to your hands. “You know he isn’t suited for it.”

“Your father wants him trained.”

“You and I both know Namjoon has no business on a battlefield.”

At that, he laughs. “His form is really terrible.”

“Even I’m better than he is.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh come on, Yoon.” You roll your eyes and nudge him slightly. You both know you’re right. His father had trained you beside Yoongi, and while you hadn’t been as quick to the blade as the young knight, you could defend yourself well enough.

He stands, plucks the book from your hand once again, and leans in so that his face is mere centimeters from your own. “Come, then, my lady. Prove yourself.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

He closes the gap, lips connecting to yours ever so briefly. Even though the kiss is short, it sets your veins alight all the same.

“Fine,” you say when he pulls back. “To battle, then, Min Yoongi.”

He smirks, and you steal a kiss when he helps you stand. For a moment, he has the audacity to look offended, but you push him out of the way.

“Come on,” you say. “You wanted to spar. Let’s get it over with.”

“We’ll see how smug you are when you’ve been defeated.”

You shrug and follow him to the training yard. It’s only a few feet from the tree you had been reading under, but your back had been to it, and you’d been unable to see Namjoon before he left. Now, though, you can see that your younger brother had gone in a huff, his practice sword tossed carelessly to the side. You pick it up. It’s a bastard sword, longer than you’d like and a little on the heavy side, but it’ll do. You roll your wrist, testing the balance as you wait for Yoongi to ready himself.

As he turns to face you, you widen your stance. You know you look ridiculous, legs and arms wide, positioned better to climb a tree than for sword fighting. It has its intended effect, though, because Yoongi erupts into a fit of near-silent giggles, shoulders shaking and eyes crinkled at the corners.

“What are you doing?” he asks gleefully.

“Are we not fighting?” you question, deepening your voice to match Namjoon’s lower timbre. “Is this not how you do it?”

He almost drops his sword, he laughs so hard. “Okay, fine,” he says, body still shaking from giggles. “You can go back to your book.”

You smile. That hadn’t really been your goal, but you aren’t one to turn down an opportunity. You hand him the practice sword as you pass and open your mouth to leave him with one last quip about trying to be patient with Namjoon, but he catches your waist as soon as he can and pulls you flush against him. Immediately, your hands come up to rest on his chest, playing with the loose collar of his cream colored shirt.

“Can I help you, sir?” you ask coyly, tugging a little at the fabric over his collarbone.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, lips mere centimeters from your ear. “Can you?”

He kisses you then, properly this time, firm hands on the small of your back, holding you against his body. He’s warm and soft and solid, and you can smell a hint of the cologne you’d bought him for his last birthday. His kiss is slow, almost lazy, but there’s a greed in it, like he could keep at this forever if you’d let him.

You’re tempted to let him.

You slide your hand up his chest to tangle in the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You give a gentle tug, and he lets out a low whine.

“Don’t tease, my lady,” he mumbles darkly, pulling away just far enough to kiss up your jaw. “I’m afraid you’ll start something you aren’t prepared to finish.”

You never get the chance to respond. Namjoon calls your name, his voice floating down from the walkway that overlooks the courtyard. Immediately, Yoongi jumps away from you. Your relationship is no secret, but he’s always been shy, and you’ve long grown used to his fleeing any time anyone sneaks up on you.

Namjoon calls for you again, this time, his voice is closer, and when you turn, you can see he’s running down the stairs. He pauses momentarily, catching his breath for just a second before blurting out, “Father is looking for you. He’s received some official-looking letter and asked me to come fetch you.”

You hum and nod. “Alright. Tell him I’ll be along soon.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’d better come now.”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi, who stands now just off to the side. His cheeks and ears are tinged ever so slightly pink, and he busies himself with inspecting one of the practice blades. He must feel you looking at him, because his dark eyes connect with yours. You shoot him a look that you hope conveys an apology. He nods toward the keep silently before picking up the discarded sword and wandering off in the direction of the armory.

“Lead the way,” you tell your brother, gesturing in the direction he’d come from.

You follow him out of the yard, up the stairs onto the walkway and into the keep. Evening is starting to fall, and the attendants already have the sconces lit in the halls to stave off the darkness. You pass some of them as you go, and they nod respectfully–more to you than to Namjoon, but he’s younger and has never really cared about being deferred to in the way that you are.

He leads you to your father’s study, and when you enter, you’re shocked at how full it is. You’ve always loved this room, filled to the brim with the finely crafted furniture made by the people of the forest town. Blackwood trees are known to have a delicate, earthy aroma long after they’ve been felled, so the study has always smelled as warm and inviting as it felt. Now, though, with the number of eyes that dart in your direction when the door opens, you’re uncomfortable.

The five of them sit at the heavy, ebony round table in the center of the room. Your father sits with his back to the window, his fingers steepled and his brow furrowed, papers strewn about in front of him. To his left sits your step-mother, a rare good day for her. She looks grim, but you get the sense that the pain she’s feeling may not be just her own. Namjoon takes a seat to her right. To your father’s left sits Jaesung, your father’s advisor and head of the armory for as long as you can remember. The look on his face is neutral, but you can see an anger behind his eyes. In nearly 30 years, you’ve never seen Jaesung angry. Beside him sits Seokjin, your elder step-brother, a fidgeting ball of nerves.

“Come,” your father says gently, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

You can feel a chill as you pass them all. Your step-mother, paralyzed by an unknown pain. Jaesung, poised for a war you don’t yet understand. And Seokjin, who refuses to look at you, even as you sit down beside him.

It all makes you nervous.

Your father stands, the chair pushing out behind him as he leans forward, passing you the papers in front of him. It’s a letter, the wax seal on the envelope indicating it was sent from the Ironhold.

A letter from the king, you muse. What could he possibly want?

It’s no secret that there’s little love between your family–the Lins of Castle Blackwood–and the Chois in the Crownlands. The Chois have sat on the throne of Cotaria for hundreds of years, and the seat of the Crownlands for hundreds of years before that, and their customs have been around for just as long. They don’t like how your father rules the Westerlands, but there isn’t much they can do about it. The Lin family is far older and has had far longer to build ties, and you contribute more to the Crown’s stores than the Chois would care to admit.

Your gaze falls to the letter in your hands, reading but not comprehending what it says. You fixate on certain words. Duty. King. Auspicious. Marriage. But no matter how many times you read it, no matter how long you stare at the neatly printed words in front of you, they don’t make sense.

The room is quiet. Too quiet. You don’t like how long it’s been since someone’s said something, don’t like how they watch you. Your mouth is dry, and it feels like you’ve tried to swallow a rock.

“This is real?” you manage, swallowing hard. When did your hands start shaking?

“I’m afraid so,” your father responds. His voice is soft, measured.

“And?”

“We did not ask for this.”

“And yet here we are.”

He sighs. “And yet here we are.”

You close your fist around the paper, crumpling it. Beside you, Seokjin jumps, startled. For the briefest of moments, you close your eyes.

Marriage to the king. A man you’d met once three years ago at his father’s funeral. He’d been miserable then, a spoiled brat too accustomed to getting his own way. You’d dreaded the funeral, dreaded being forced to interact with the young king, dreaded having to be pleasant to him. But you’d plastered on a smile and endured the funeral and feast. And now he wanted to take you away from your home, your family.

Your Yoongi.

You shake your head, forcing your thoughts back to your father’s study. You can’t think of him right now. “This,” you lift your fist, the letter still clutched tightly within. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“There’s always a choice,” Namjoon blurts, immediately shrinking back into his chair.

Your father hums. “You can decline. Your brother is right.”

“Jaesung?” The man’s eyes snap to yours, and you’re struck by how similar they are to his son’s–dark, cat-like, ever-observant. “If I say no…?”

He takes a moment, his head bobbing back and forth as he weighs the options. “Chances of retaliation are high, yes.”

“We would weather it,” your father says. “Our family has endured far worse.”

“And if they strip us of our titles? Take away our home?” You toss the letter into the center of the table. “Either way, we lose.”

“So just tell him to fuck off,” Namjoon says. Your step-mother frowns, and immediately, he wilts under her gaze. “Sorry, mother. But you understand what I mean. If both options are bad, pick the best worst choice.”

You glance up, above your father, above the window behind him. The family crest hangs there, centered on the wall. A sea of blue with green chevron, golden thistle in the foreground. The Lin family words are engraved into the bottom: Loyalty does not yield.

Loyalty. It’s been ingrained in you since birth. To family, duty, self. All three in tandem. Now, though, they’re pitted against each other. Your family against your own desires. Your desires against your duty. An impossible choice.

You make eye contact with your father across the table. He nods almost imperceptibly and sighs.

“The steward arrives tomorrow?” you ask softly.

Jaesung nods. “Letter said they would arrive the day after it did.”

“Okay.”

There’s precious little to discuss after that. Jaesung is the first to go, the war in his eyes more fierce than when you’d entered. He doesn’t look at you as he goes. Your stepmother leaves shortly after, walking around the table to you. Her hands find your shoulders, skin cold against yours. She gives a gentle squeeze and kisses the top of your head.

When she’s gone and the door is closed behind her, Namjoon erupts. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right?” he asks. It’s directed toward your father. “They would never dream of doing this to any of the other old families.”

Seokjin sighs. “They couldn’t.” His voice is soft, but holds all the authority of older brother.

Ever insightful, your step-brother is right. The Lin family is the only one of the old families that allows for a female heir, and even then, your father had only married Seokjin and Namjoon’s mother after his first wife–your mother–had died. You’d been here first. In your father’s mind, you were the clear heir. It helps that Seokjin, older than you by one year, has never shown much interest in leading, and between you and Namjoon, you have always been more eager to learn everything. But because all of the other heirs of the old families are male, they will never be put in this position.

You stand. Your head hurts, and so does your heart. You don’t look at your father as you leave the study, too afraid of what you might see.

You’d intended to go to your chambers, but when you get to the staircase, instead of going up, you go down. Yoongi’s chamber is at the end of this wing of the castle, closest to the outer wall and the library tower. Over the years, you’ve probably spent just as much time there as you have in your own chambers. But this is the first time you’ve felt nervous standing at his door.

You knock. You almost never knock, but it feels weird barging in right now, when you’re standing on the precipice of a future so far in the opposite direction of what you’d been imagining. The door opens, and there he is, leaning casually against the heavy, blackwood door. You must be some sort of sight, because almost immediately, he frowns, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“Jagi?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

It’s all it takes. You surge forward, hands coming up to cup his face gently. It’s easy to fall into him, easy to lose yourself in his kiss. He lets you push him back into his room, shutting and locking the door behind you in one easy motion.

He laughs a little as you kiss up his jaw. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

You don’t answer. Right now, you just want to lose yourself in him. The room is not large, and you’re able to push him toward the bed in only a few steps. He pauses when his legs hit the edge of the goose feather mattress. Gently, you push and he falls backward, his hands on your waist pulling you down with him.

You hover over him for a moment, just holding his gaze, losing yourself in the dark eyes you’ve come to love so much. You wonder if he’s able to read the distress in your eyes–maybe he is, because he pulls you down in a kiss that leaves your mind spinning, as his hands tighten on your waist ever so slightly.

His tongue hesitantly darts out to meet your lips, and surprised, you pull away to meet his gaze again. His cheeks are slightly flushed pink, and his lips glisten prettily in the light of the sconce on the wall.

You survey his features carefully, feeling your own cheeks turning red as you realize that you don’t want to stop. Not tonight. You want to be able to feel him at least once before you have to go. You bend down again to capture his lips in a languid kiss, welcoming his tongue against your own the moment he does it again.

You gently move your hands up his frame, burying them in his soft hair as he wraps his arms around you to pull you flush against him. You have half a thought that you’ll crush him, but you can’t bring yourself to care as his tongue awkwardly swipes at yours again, earning a breathy sound from you that you’ve never made before.

It startles both you and him, and you pull away from the kiss once more, meeting his gaze.

“What was that?” he asks, the flush on his cheeks having deepened from the prolonged kiss.

You find you can’t look at his eyes anymore, your own gaze sliding away. You laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know.”

He kisses your jaw to gain your attention again, but your eyes stubbornly stay away. That is, until he says, “It was cute.”

Your gaze shoots back to his. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me again,” he asks, and there’s something new in his tone. A desire you’ve never really seen, or maybe it’s just manifesting differently this time around.

Maybe he can feel the sense of urgency in the moment. But he doesn’t question you, just welcomes your lips against his the moment you kiss him again, unable to resist the pull of his gravity.

His hands move down your back, and hesitantly, he grazes his fingers over the curve of your ass, barely even touching. You feel electrified, like lightning is coursing through your bloodstream, and you bite on his bottom lip.

He grunts. He grunts and you know that there is no way you’ll stop now. Not when you sit back on his lap, hands resting on his chest to hold you up. Even through his linen shirt, you feel his heart beating wildly, echoing your own.

And right where you’re perched, you feel the hint of his arousal, matching the arousal that’s slowly warming up your core.

You’ve touched each other before. It was awkward, neither of you really knew what you were doing, and you’d stopped, too afraid to get caught, too afraid of the consequences.

Tonight though? You want to feel his skin on yours, want his warm breath to mingle with your own while you lay with him. So you grab his tunic, pushing it up until it reveals a small sliver of pale skin on his lower stomach. You look at it, admire it as if it’s art, and then you meet Yoongi’s gaze again.

“Can you take this off?” you ask, fingers shaking even though your voice holds firm.

He nods, sitting up so that he can remove the shirt. It brings him close to your face, and you can’t resist but kiss him again, molding your lips to his like it was always meant to be.

But not anymore.

You push the thought away, wanting to focus on Yoongi, on this moment with him. You want to commit it to memory, to remember every plane of his body as he finally, slowly takes his shirt off, revealing more of his sculpted frame.

Being a knight has its advantages. And they show in the powerful build of Yoongi’s body, even though he’s a little more on the lean side. You gently rest on your hands on his chest, before gently caressing down, reveling in the feel of his warm skin under your fingers and palms.

He watches you, lips slightly parted, until your fingers graze the hem of his pants. But then he stops you, grabbing your hands in his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs when your eyes meet his. “You really want to do this?”

You nod, breathing out a soft, “Yes.” You nod again, though your cheeks burn. “Yes, I want it. All of it.”

He gulps, eyes darting to your lips before going back to your gaze. “Can I take your corset off?”

The question sends your heart into overdrive, yet you agree, guiding his hands to the knot at the top of the corset. You notice his fingers shaking as he slowly starts untying it, much like your own fingers are trembling, and you let out a small chuckle.

It’s unexpected, and a little awkward, yet it feels right in this moment with him. He laughs lightly as he struggles, a sound that makes you feel like you could soar in the sky beside the ravens and falcons of the Blackwood.

Maybe, if you could fly, you’d never have to go to the Ironhold.

Again, you push the thought away to focus on Yoongi’s fingers as they struggle with the laces. He curses under his breath, which makes you chuckle again.

“Let me help,” you tell him, and he begrudgingly lets you take the lead, the tip of his ears red.

You’re much more efficient, and soon enough, you’re able to undo the lacing and take off the stupid garmetn, leaving you in just your linen tunic. Yoongi runs his hands up your sides, dragging the fabric of your shirt up, and your breath hitches in your throat when he slides his hands under the fabric.

His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps on your skin, and he brings his hands up until he’s able to grab your breasts, squeezing lightly. He grunts softly again, and you feel something twitch under your lap.

“Yoongi,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t look at you, just keeps staring at the spot where his hands cover your breasts, hidden beneath your shirt. You take that as a cue to pull the fabric off, and you throw it to the side, to meet his own shirt where it fell to the floor.

Yoongi stares at your chest, eyes slightly widened, cheeks flushed, and his breathing is quicker than usual, as if he’s been sparring for a while. It makes you feel powerful to know that you’re the one with this effect on him, and you smile down at him when he finally meets your gaze again.

“You really are so beautiful,” he says again, as if in awe.

You blush at the compliment, leaning down so that you can kiss him again. To your surprise, his hands leave your breasts to rest flat on your back, and you almost screech when he spins you around, until he’s lying on top of you.

As he’s hovering over you, Yoongi stares down at you, chest moving fast from his quick inhales and exhales.

“Sorry, my lady,” he apologizes at the look on your face.

You chuckle shyly. “Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He pecks your cheek, smiling against your skin. “I like taking you by surprise. Doesn’t happen often.”

You melt for him. Like the last snow under the spring sun, you melt for him. Your hand grip his biceps as he looks down at your perked nipples, and you feel like molten ore as he then traces his lips along your neck, down down down until he reaches the top of your breast.

He kisses there, once, before going lower, flicking your nipple with his tongue. When your hands wrap around his shoulders, he does it again, a little harder.

“Yoongi…”

His lips close around your nipple, and he sucks hard. You squirm at the foreign sensation, and Yoongi quickly meets your gaze, apologies written in his gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you immediately reassure him. “It just feels… strange.”

He nods once, and then looks at your nipple, now shimmering with his saliva. “Do you want me to do it again?”

You grab his face, pulling him up to kiss you instead. He doesn’t resist, and he sighs against your mouth as you run your hands through his hair.

Yoongi is gentle. He always has been, but tonight he’s even more so, taking his time to take off your pants once you part from the kiss. He realizes that you’re still wearing your boots when your pants are around your calves, and he curses under his breath as he unties them and slides them off, while you laugh awkwardly, hiding your face behind your hands.

When he finally manages to take all of your clothes off, you look at him from behind your fingers, admiring how his eyes darken as he looks down at your pussy. You instinctively want to hide, to close your thighs together, and he quickly says, “Don’t… it’s…” he clears his throat. “You’re so pretty.”

Your hands fall away from your face, and you hold his gaze longingly, hoping that tonight will never end. That somewhere along the line, you’ll be able to stop time, so that you can dwell in an eternity of lying here with him.

But fantasies like that are works of fiction, and you can’t alter time. So when he stands to take off his own clothes, you quickly sit on the edge of the bed, helping him with his belt even though your hands feel clumsier than they usually are. Maybe because of the nerves wracking through you–it’s hard to tell, and you frankly don’t care.

Because this is Yoongi. Your Yoongi. You want this to be with him, a memory to treasure forever once you’re gone.

A few seconds later, Yoongi is out of his clothes too, and you think your heart stops in your chest at the sight of him.

You’ve never seen him fully naked like this. You’ve touched him, hands sliding in his pants to wrap around his length while you kissed. But you’ve never seen him, standing proud and tall and leaking precum just inches from your face.

It’s sinful, and you look up to meet his gaze as you hesitantly wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping quickly.

He winces, grabbing your wrist to stop you. “Not so fast,” he tells you gently.

You slow down, biting your lower lip, and then your eyes fall down the pretty expanse of his body until you’re watching what you’re doing so that you can do it properly.

Or at least, what you assume is proper.

Yoongi grunts softly as you jerk him off, hips thrusting forward instinctively once in a while. Something wet is pooling between your legs, and all you can do is look at him, at the tip leaking with precum. He’s rock hard under your fingers, rigid veins and velvety soft skin, and it makes your heart race in your chest with every swift motion of your wrist.

“Stop,” Yoongi lets out, sounding out of breath. “Or I… I won’t be able to do more.”

You let go of him, hand sheepishly falling in your lap. Yoongi sits next to you, and he gently pulls you closer. This kiss is softer, slowly, born of the love between you and him.

He pushes you down until you’re lying on the bed again and climbs on top of you. You spread your legs for him, wrapping them around his waist, which leads to the head of his cock rubbing against your entrance.

You let out a soft moan that has him pull away.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

You laugh. “No, you’ve barely touched me yet.”

He seems conflicted for a while, brows furrowing. “Should I touch you first?”

“I don’t… know,” you admit.

You both exchange a look, and Yoongi quirks an eyebrow before finally deciding for the two of you, kneeling between your legs. His eyes drop to your pussy once more, and he hesitantly brings a hand to the apex of your thighs. You stiffen, waiting for his touch, and the moment one of his fingers slides between your folds, a volcano erupts inside of you.

He slowly pushes in, stopping at the first knuckle to gauge your reaction. When you don’t give any sign of discomfort, he finishes pushing in, until most of his finger is swallowed by you.

“It’s so tight,” he says, but there’s barely any lust behind it. Just curiosity, which makes you laugh. He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you. And then he starts moving his finger again. “How does it feel?”

“Strange,” you admit. “Good?”

Though you say it like a question, he nods. And he keeps at it for a while, slowly fingering you. The sensation is new but not unpleasant, the slow drag of his finger against your walls, the slight arch of it as he pushes in and out. It makes you want more, and you blindly grope for his cock, though your hand falls short and lands on his thigh instead.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“I think I want you.”

He stops moving his finger, before pulling it out to return to his previous position. Suddenly bold, Yoongi holds the base of his cock so that he can rub it on your pussy, and his lips parted as he looks down at you.

You moan softly, and he watches you for a moment, never pushing in. Once again, he asks, “You’re sure?”

You nod. “Please.”

It doesn’t take him more to push in, slowly. It hurts, and your face contorts in pain, which makes him stop between your legs.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, about to pull out.

“No, it’s…” You wrap your legs so tight around him that he can’t move. “They say it’s supposed to hurt. At first.”

“Oh?”

You shrug. You’d heard the handmaids gossiping, and after a while, you’d just accepted it as fact.

He nods once, before gently caressing your thighs. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“I promise,” you whisper.

And though it really does hurt, you don’t stop him as he finishes pushing all the way in, stilling when he’s fully sheathed within you. There, he stops, leaning down so that he can kiss you again, his tongue dancing languidly with yours. You hold him close, bask in the feel of the weight of him on you as his hand finds your hip, his thumb caressing circles into your skin.

It takes a moment, but the pain slowly lessens until it turns into a numb sensation that you can almost entirely ignore. You nod. “I’m ready.”

He moves from your mouth to your neck, and he says against your skin, “I don’t know what to do.”

You hold him tighter. “Just move. I want to feel you.”

He nods, and then he pulls almost all the way out, before pushing in again. It still hurts, but when he does it again the pain is less, and by the tenth time you barely feel it anymore.

You kiss his shoulder, and Yoongi sighs, his lips ghosting on the side of your neck before he decides to suck on it, and the sensation makes you moan again, your arms tightening around you.

“Jagi…”

“Yoongi,” you breathe out like an echo.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to last long,” he admits. “You feel… like silk.”

You nod. “It’s okay.” You kiss his shoulder again, before adding, “Do you think you can go faster?”

He stops moving for a time, meeting your gaze. His dark eyes are filled with intensity, with lust, passion and love for you. He kisses you gently, thumb brushing against your cheek, and then he increases his rhythm.

Your words seem to unleash him, because the second you let out a small moan again, Yoongi starts going even faster, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room. Even though it feels strange, you let him do it, keep holding him close, and soon enough, pleasure starts to vibrate in you, ignited by every deep thrust.

It’s a little rough, a little clumsy, but Yoongi’s pace doesn’t falter. He grunts in your ear, and you instinctively dig your nails in the skin of his back.

That’s when he loses it. He stills deep inside of you, moaning softly, and you feel his cock twitch as he releases. You hold him through his high, gently caressing his back even though he’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat–you don’t care about it. It’s him, and you think you love all of him.

You breathe in and out, slowly, as he’s still deep inside of you. When he turns his head towards you, you kiss him deeply, trying to pour all the love in your heart into the act, trying to let him know that forever and always, he’s the one that you’ll love.

Eventually, the kiss ends, the need for breath overcomes it, and Yoongi lies next to you. When he pulls out of you, you feel his warm seed dripping out, and you blush at the feeling, at the dirtiness of it, though you don’t think there’s anything purer than what just happened between you and him. So you put your head on his chest, molding yourself into his side, content just to lay with him.

It’s quiet, your mingled breathing and the sound of his heart under your ear the only noises in the room. You try to concentrate on everything, to commit it to memory. The warmth of his body, the gentleness of his touch, the stillness of everything. It’s electric, the way his fingers slowly ghost up and down your bare arm. He presses the gentlest of kisses to the crown of your head, and you have to force yourself to stay here, in this moment.

You aren’t sure what prompts it, but his arm tightens around you. “What’s wrong?” he hums, tilting his head so that he can better see your face. “Are you okay?”

Until this moment, you’d been doing well, keeping yourself together as your world shatters around you. But the concern in Yoongi’s voice, it breaks you. You don’t respond to him, merely bury your face in the bare skin of his shoulder and try to stitch yourself back together somehow.

For the two years you’d been together, when you pictured your future, it was this–it was him. You’d loved Yoongi for as long as you’d known what love was. Probably longer. He’d been your best friend, your staunchest rival, your biggest supporter. You’d spent more nights than you’d care to admit sitting on one of the castle balconies and complaining to him about your brothers, and you’d listened as he’d lamented the rigidity of his father. Losing him, being forced to walk away, it feels a little like you’re losing a part of yourself. The part that feels safe, the part that feels loved, the part that could take on anything so long as he’s there with you.

He holds you close as you fall apart, the only thing keeping you from entirely shattering. He’s basically silent, and you can’t help but think that he must be so confused, which only serves to crush you more.

“I’m sorry,” you manage finally, wiping your tears.

“What’s wrong, jagi?” Yoongi asks softly. “You’re worrying me.”

You sigh. “I have been given an impossible choice.”

He hums sympathetically. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

His confidence almost spirals you back off the edge you’ve barely clawed yourself away from. But instead of breaking again, you reach up to cup his face. In the silence, you study him, trying to memorize all of him–soft, round cheeks; button nose; dark, feline eyes. He’s handsome in a gentle sort of way. Skilled in swordplay, with a mind to match.

“Not this time, I don’t think.” Where to start? Because you should start. You owe him that, at least, after appearing at his door, bedding him, and then dissolving into tears almost immediately after. “That letter father got earlier? It came from the Ironhold. As it happens, our darling king is looking to find himself a wife.”

He blanches, a frown immediately replacing the concern on his face. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

For the briefest of moments, he deflates, his head sinking deep into his silk and feather pillow. But then his arms snake firmly around you and he pulls you impossibly closer. He kisses the top of your head before nuzzling into your hair. You feel him breathe in deeply and hold it for a moment before he slowly exhales.

“I wish there was a way to get out of this,” you mumble into his chest. “But even your father said-”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I love you,” you say desperately. You know he knows, but you need to say it.

“We’ll get through it,” he says again. “Somehow.”

You don’t sleep. You’re pretty sure that Yoongi doesn’t either. You can’t bring yourself to miss a minute, so you lay there, skin on skin, listening to his breathing and watching the moon out the window. The night is slow, but not nearly slow enough, and eventually, the sky begins to lighten.

“I should go pack,” you mumble softly, snuggling into him more.

His arm tightens around you as he hums. “Want help?”

“You don’t have to.”

“No,” he agrees. “But I’m not ready to let you go just yet. And if that means I have to help you pack, then I help you pack.”

You sigh, resting your chin on his chest so that you can look at him. “I don’t even know how much I’m allowed to bring.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He sounds so confident, but looking at him, you can tell it’s a front. His eyes have lost the sparkle they normally have, and the smile he’s wearing doesn’t go beyond his lips.

You stall for a few more moments, but force yourself to get up. He helps you find your clothes and you dress quickly before sneaking out into the hall. It’s still early, almost no one should be up yet, but you have to pass both Seokjin and Namjoon’s rooms to get to your own, and Namjoon is known for keeping strange hours.

Thankfully, this is not the first time you’ve made this journey, and you know just how to move to avoid making noise. You manage to unlatch the door to your chambers with only the slightest of sounds, and you and Yoongi sneak in. He helps you light the wall sconces and a few candles, and as your room lights up, you sigh.

You suppose you should pack on the lighter side. The king’s letter hadn’t said… anything, really, about what awaits you in the Ironhold, but you suspect that whatever you bring won’t be good enough.

Yoongi helps you fill a trunk with clothes. Or rather, he handles everything, barely letting you do any of it. He folds each garment carefully, like it’s made of glass, choosing his favorite garments like a sommelier chooses wine. You can’t read his expression, can’t tell what he’s thinking, but there’s a cloud over his eyes, and you know he’s lost in thought.

You leave him to it, figure that maybe this is something he needs to do, and busy yourself with gathering other things you want to take. A few books. A figurine of a duck your father had bought for you for your birthday as a child. Your favorite blanket. A drawing that one of the artists in town had done of your family–your father, your step-mother, Seokjin, Namjoon, and you. There’s one of you and Yoongi, too, that you tuck into one of your more boring books.

You aren’t quite sure when it happens, but you look up, and suddenly, it’s light out. A knock at your door pulls you out of the trance of going through your belongings. Yoongi’s closer, and he reaches out to open it before you can even say anything.

It’s Seokjin.

He stands there, looking a little sheepish, clutching a burlap bag. You aren’t sure if he’s nervous because Yoongi opened the door, or if he’s nervous just being there in general.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Do you–am I interrupting something?”

You exchange a quick look with Yoongi, and he shakes his head. “I’ll be back soon, yeah?” he says to you. And when you nod, he leaves you and Seokjin alone.

For a few brief moments, it’s quiet. Seokjin wanders silently and mindlessly around your room, looking at your desk, a shelf, your bedside table. But then he sighs, and a pained look crosses his face.

“What have we done to get here?” His voice is quiet, tentative, like he doesn’t want to talk too loudly.

You shrug helplessly. “I wish I knew.”

“There’s one good thing to come of it, I suppose.” He sighs once again, and this time, it’s dramatic. “Now you’ll finally have a reason to be a royal pain in the ass.”

In any other situation, you may have laughed. The two of you aren’t strangers by any means, but you’ve always been closer with Namjoon. Seokjin has always been far more interested in the artisans in the forest town than what goes on in the castle. You wouldn’t begrudge him anything, but you also annoy the everloving hell out of each other.

True siblings, your father had once proudly declared. You hadn’t always been quite as confident as he was, but the fact that Seokjin is here now… well, maybe you’re closer than you’d thought.

“I uh…” he starts awkwardly, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes before rubbing his neck. “Got you something to take with you.” He lifts up the bag, gesturing with it slightly before handing it to you.

Confused, you take it. The handle of the bag is rough, the burlap tightly woven for strength even though the contents aren’t particularly heavy. Looking in the bag, you pull out a box that’s about the width and length of a book. It’s made of blackwood, the inky black surface polished into glass. There’s a seam that splits it in half, and two golden hinges on the left side. The front of the box is engraved, a gilded thistle stands resolute against the darkness. You slide open the latch on the side and open it. The box is empty, but there’s enough room to store things.

“It’s very pretty,” you tell him, closing the box gently and slipping the latch back into place.

Gently, Seokjin takes the box out of your hands, and with both thumbs, pushes the leaves on either side of the thistle stem. There’s a quiet sound of sliding wood, and when he opens the box again, a panel inside has been moved, and suddenly, there’s more room. He closes the lid, presses the flower of the thistle, and the sliding happens again.

He pushes the box back into your hands, his eyes not leaving yours. You have questions, but the intensity of his gaze says enough.

“How?” you ask finally. You doubt he just had this lying around.

He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I asked Haejeon to put a rush on it.”

You nod. Haejeon is one of the artisans in the forest town outside the castle walls. He makes games and trinkets. Your father has hired him many times to carve and build small ornaments out of blackwood, and he’s old enough to be your uncle, but when you were kids, he’d given Seokjin a puzzle box to play with, and ever since, your step-brother has been practically stuck to the man’s hip. Over the years, as Seokjin has gotten more and more interested in the creators and builders and artists, Haejeon has taken him under his wing in a way, offering guidance and friendship outside of the castle.

“Thank him for me. Tell him it’s beautiful.” You hope to God you won’t have reason to use the secret compartment.

A noise outside the door draws your attention, and for a brief moment, Seokjin stares at the dark wood. But then he nods. “Probably Yoongi,” he says lightly. But when he smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll let you kids get back to it.”

But when he opens the door, it’s Namjoon that’s standing there. He’s still in his nightshirt, and a pair of warm, woolen pants hang a little crooked on his muscular legs.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up,” he says from the doorway, looking completely past Seokjin. You motion for him to enter, but he shakes his head. “I don’t want to stay long, I’m sure you still have plenty to do.”

“Namjoon,” you scold, barely any bite in your tone. Easily, he gives in, taking a few tentative steps into the room.

“I brought you this.” He holds out a book in your direction.

It’s bound in plain leather, and is neither particularly large nor particularly small. The pages are old and yellowed. The front cover is entirely non-descript, the only real identifying feature to the outside simply the word ‘Lin’ stamped on the spine.

You open it, and immediately you recognize it as one of the handful of tomes from Castle Blackwood’s library that details your family history. Its handwritten pages go back thousands of years, back to when Seinal Lin first settled the Westerlands.

“I thought that maybe you’d want it. To tell them about us.”

He doesn’t have to say who he means. If this turns out the way most royal weddings do, you aren’t sure when you’ll see your family again. These people who have been your life and your heart for over two decades will more than likely be strangers to any children you may have. This history that Namjoon has given you is more than just a book. It’s a reminder of who you are. It’s a lifeline.

Suddenly, you feel like you’re breaking apart again, but you fight it off, pulling Namjoon into a tight hug. He makes a noise of surprise but after a second, his arms tighten around you. You stand there for a moment, unwilling to pull away, and soon, you feel another body press against your side. Seokjin’s arms wrap around you both, and now you couldn’t pull away, even if you wanted to.

As quick as it came, the moment passes.

“We should let you get back to it,” Namjoon says softly, a hand still on your arm.

They both nod solemnly, and then, just like that, you’re alone.

The silence is unbearable, the soft crackling of the wall sconces deafening as you’re left alone with your thoughts. Thanks to Yoongi’s earlier efforts, your things are packed, so there isn’t much left to do. You pull out your desk chair and sit, picking up your quill and twirling it between your thumb and forefinger. Thoughts swirl in your mind, and you pick up a piece of parchment.

Once you start writing, you can’t stop, and the words flow out of you as quick as you can write them down. You’re mid-word when there’s a knock at your door, and you hurry to finish and sand the ink.

“Come in,” you call, blowing across the page to get rid of the sand and excess ink.

You have the parchment folded by the time the door opens. Your suspicions are confirmed when a dark head of hair pokes in. Yoongi. He enters slowly, almost silently, and sits on the edge of your bed, watching curiously as you hold a dark green wax stick, melting it with the flame of a candle. You press your seal into the warm wax, removing it quickly before it can stick. The thistle stamp glistens in the candlelight, the wax still soft. You leave it to dry and turn your attention to Yoongi.

His gaze follows your every move, dark eyes soft with fondness. You pretend not to see the redness and puffiness that accompanies it. Silently, he reaches out, catching your hand in his own to tug you toward him. His arms hook around your legs, keeping you close.

“Father asked me to tell you they’re close,” he says softly, a pained look crossing his face briefly. “Word was sent from the first guard post.”

You hum and nod, running your hands through his hair. He’s changed his clothes, but his hair’s still a little tousled from your earlier romp. There’s still some time–the first guard post is at the bottom of the mountain, where the forest is still a thin stand of trees–but suddenly, your heart is in your throat. It hadn’t felt real, not really, but now… You push his hair back off his forehead once again and swallow thickly in an attempt to hold yourself together.

“I love you.” It just kind of bubbles to the surface, quiet but necessary.

He squeezes the back of your thigh, a soft, “I love you more,” on his lips. After another moment, he releases you. “You should change,” he says quietly, standing.

He’s almost to the door when you stop him. “Stay.” You aren’t sure why you say it, but he freezes in place. “Please,” you add. And, after a brief moment of consideration, he nods.

You dress quickly, pulling on a pair of trousers and a new tunic, barely checking to make sure they match. Yoongi helps you with your corset, his deft fingers having no trouble with the laces this time round. When he’s done, you pull him close, wrap your arms around him tightly.

You are determined to not let go of him until you have to.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning back away from you ever so slightly. Your hands stay around his waist, but he brings his hands between you to tug at the ring on his littlest finger. Carefully, he pulls your hand away and places the ring in your palm, closing your fingers around it.

“What-?”

“Take this,” he says, squeezing your fist.

You inspect the ring. It’s funny, you’ve seen it before–you’ve played with his hands countless times, looked at it while it was on his finger–but it’s like this is the first time you’re actually seeing it. It’s silver, the flat face of it etched with a shield, a sword standing at attention in its center. On either side of the ring’s face, thistle flowers bloom along the band.

“Yoongi,” you protest. You don’t want to take his signet ring. It’s the crest of the Min family, the ring serves as a seal to press into wax. He needs it.

He insists. “Keep it. Don’t wear it if you don’t want to, but I want you to have it. To remember.”

“As if I could forget.”

Yoongi smiles at that, a soft, somber smile that curves his lips but doesn’t meet his eyes.

The quiet that settles is interrupted rather rudely by the door opening. A head of dark hair and Yoongi’s sharp eyes peer in at you. It’s Jaesung.

“Lord John asked me to fetch you both,” he says, and you can sense the anger barely concealed in his voice. “They’ll be here soon.”

Yoongi nods, but you can feel him let out a sigh.

“Shall I grab your trunk?” Jaesung asks, gesturing to the now full case behind you. It’s probably heavy, but you nod anyway. You’ve seen him lift heavier before, and you trust him to know his limits. You pick up Seokjin’s box and press the leaves, slipping Yoongi’s ring into the compartment before shutting it back up and stashing the whole thing in your trunk.

Yoongi trails behind you, his fingers grasped loosely in your own as you slowly and begrudgingly make your way through the castle. The wall sconces have been extinguished and the shutters have been thrown open, bathing the stone hallways in morning light. Instead of taking the back stairs you did last night–the ones which go past Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s chambers down to Yoongi’s–you follow the plush carpet down the hall to the grand stairs. They curve around the main hall, criss-crossing from front to back.

You pause at the first landing, just above the grand entrance. Yoongi stops almost immediately, his head falling to one side in confusion.

“Take this,” you say softly, handing him the letter from earlier.

“But-”

“Take it,” you insist, pressing it into his chest. “Don’t read it now. Give it a day or two. Please.”

Your eyes meet his, and silently, you plead with him. For a moment, he stands firm, his grip on your wrist tight. But then he relents, shoulders sagging, and nods. “Fine,” he says, taking the letter from your grasp and stuffing it into his pocket.

The heavy blackwood main doors of the castle are at least double your height, and they stand wide-open now. Your father and step-mother are in the courtyard, you can see them out by the centuries-old blackwood tree that stands sentinel in front of the castle. You’d spent many days of your childhood climbing its thick boughs, throwing seeds down to pelt Namjoon as he sat in the shade and read. Usually, the courtyard is bustling with people–from the castle, from the forest town, visitors–but now, aside from your father and step-mother, it’s completely empty.

“Stop pacing, love,” your step-mother says. She sits in a chair just to the left of the sentinel tree. She must not be feeling as well today. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I fear it’s too late for that, Sara, my dear” your father mumbles. And when he looks up, he sees you and Yoongi approaching. “Ah.” He outstretches an arm, beckoning you forward.

When you’re close enough, your step-mother grabs your free hand, enveloping it in her own. Her hands are cold, and there’s no real strength to her grip. Yoongi stands close behind you, his chest practically touching your back as you hold the gaze of your step-mother.

“Brave girl,” she says softly.

“The towers sent word ahead of time. The envoy is in a hurry to get back to the Ironhold,” your father tells you. He’s stopped his pacing and now stands beside your step-mother’s chair. “We wanted to have time to say goodbye.”

You frown. Already, the king is not making a good impression on you. Between the sudden letter and the incoming envoy that feels more like an abduction than a transport, you’re certain that this is the worst decision you’ve ever made in your life. And yet, as you look back and forth between your father and step-mother, as you hold Yoongi’s hand, you know it’s probably also–unfortunately–the right one.

Your father comes forward, his big hands cupping your cheeks. “You are smart,” he tells you, voice low. “You are strong. You are kind. Give ‘em hell.” He kisses your forehead and lets you go, turning almost immediately and walking toward the castle entrance to watch the road. You don’t miss the glisten in his eyes.

Your step-mother pats your hand. “I don’t think he will ever let this go. The Ironhold may say they’re doing this for the good of our two families, but…” She sighs. “I fear they’ve made an enemy out of the west.” She meets your gaze again, honeyed dark eyes big and sad. “Don’t let them dull you.”

Carefully, she reaches up and unpins a brooch from the front of her dress. It’s beautiful–you’ve admired it since you were a kid. A mother-of-pearl thistle blossom inset into an oval of ebony blackwood. She stands, a little unsteadily at first, and you reach out to help her gain her balance. Without looking up, she pins the brooch to your tunic, right over your heart.

You hear the hoofbeats before you see the envoy, the clattering of a carriage and several horses enough to draw anyone’s attention. Jaesung arrives just in time; he and Namjoon place your trunk just under the tree beside your step-mother’s chair. Like a spectre, Seokjin appears to your left. They all huddle closer when the first horse appears at the gates.

It’s not really that large of a traveling party–two men on horseback, a carriage with its driver, and a supply wagon–but the sight of it has your stomach churning all the same. You’re glad you didn’t take time for breakfast, or you might actually be sick. Yoongi presses closer, your entwined hands hidden behind your back.

One of the riders dismounts–you assume the steward–and approaches your father. They shake hands, and you can see the man’s gaze flick to you as they talk. Yoongi squeezes your hand. After a moment, they come closer. Your father’s face is grave, almost ashen, as he gestures for you.

The whole exchange is silent. You dare not look at Yoongi, too afraid that if you do, you’ll falter or worse. But as you step forward, he refuses to let go of your hand. Only until you’re physically too far away does he loosen his grip, and as soon as his fingers are out of your grasp, you miss him.

Your trunk gets moved to the carriage. The steward shakes your father’s hand again. Namjoon hugs you. Seokjin kisses your forehead. You’re passed around your father and step-mother and Jaesung. You refuse to look at Yoongi. And then it’s over. And you have nothing left to do but get in the carriage.

The inside of the carriage looks lavish, with soft velvet covering the bench and luxurious curtains covering the windows. But when you actually get in, the bench is hard, and the fabric over the windows leaves the carriage dark and confining. It’s impossible to see out, but you do your best, pulling the fabric away from the window and shoving your face against the wood of the wall.

They stand there, everyone you hold close, clumped together. The carriage jolts forward, and even though they can’t see you, you wave. Yoongi is the only one that lifts his hand, and you hold his gaze until the carriage enters the forest town and you can no longer see him.

Your heart hurts, and somewhere, deep inside your soul, you feel something breaking.

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your support means a whole lot, especially now when I'm low on energy and time. grad school is hell, but I wanted to post this to give us both some joy. please let me know your thoughts. I hope to finish this sometime this century, so please look forward to the next two parts!

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader

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