#bts bookshop au

[jemshopes]

Would You Wait For Me?

-namseok drabble

-bookshop owner namjoon

-worn out university student hoseok who often falls asleep in the bookshop (namjoon doesn't have the heart to wake him up, so he often keeps the shop open much longer than necessary)

*** 

I picture the shop being like the height of comfy bookish aesthetic. It has a little cafe area where you can order coffee, other drinks, and little snacks. It has little reading nooks with pillows and blankets and old armchairs. The bookshelves are old and worn. It has a table where all the books are wrapped in brown paper, so you don't know what you're buying. All that cute bookish shit. All the comfort. Literally anything any reader could want in a bookshop.

There's a section in the back of the shop, hidden away from prying eyes, where Hoseok always goes. The bookshop has a couple of shelves there that are full of worn secondhand books--novels, textbooks, etc. You can sit and read any of them for as long as you want. It doesn't really matter if they get damaged--spines creased, pages folded--just use them. Have fun.

It's where the shop puts books they can't sell, as well as books that've been donated, but Hoseok always feels guilty for only using that section. Because, let's be real, he's broke, he's a student working two part time jobs and trying to make it through uni. He just doesn't have the money to buy new books. So he does his best to hurry through the shop each day and stay out of sight of the staff.

Sometimes he buys coffee and a snack to make himself feel a bit better (and to keep himself from passing out), but even then, he really tries his best not to spend money on things he doesn't need. He doesn't need coffee, he can get through the day without it. It's an unnecessary expense. So most days he doesn't buy it. He just holes up in the little reading nook and tries to get some studying done.

He falls asleep studying a lot because... well, he doesn't drink coffee and his sleep schedule is a mess from all the late nights he spends trying to study more.

At first this was okay, him falling asleep in the shop, because no one seemed to notice. But one Saturday afternoon he falls asleep and wakes to find it's dark outside and his phone is dead. When he makes his way out of the reading nook, the shop is bright, but empty. not a customer in sight. But then he sees Namjoon sweeping the floor by the cafe counter.

He knows Namjoon by sight (and only by name because of the tag he wears on his shirt). He's not much older than Hoseok and he's always working at the bookshop. Hoseok had noticed awhile ago that namjoon was the one most customers went to when they were looking for recommendations. Or the one they got sent to if they asked another member of staff for recommendations. He's tall and sweet-looking, with an approachable smile. but tonight, all Hoseok can think when namjoon smiles at him is about how embarrassed he is to have to stumble over and ask namjoon what the time is.

"It's almost eleven," Namjoon tells him.

"E-eleven? But... doesn't the shop close at nine?"

Namjoon tells him it does, but don't worry about it.

At the time, Hoseok is too sleepy and confused to really take in what "dont worry about it" even means. So he just says goodnight and goes home. It's only when it happens again, and again he finds himself asking Namjoon for the time, that he realises what's happening. And then he just feels bad because he's being such an inconvenience. But Namjoon tells him not to worry about it. he doesn't mind. And, anyway, Hoseok's been falling asleep back there for months now. His body must be screaming to sleep all the time. If keeping the shop open a few extra hours is helping out a student, it's okay.

Hoseok gets flustered when Namjoon tells him he's known about the naps Hoseok takes during the day. He'd really thought no one noticed. And he shouldn't be using a bookshop as his bedroom, so now it's all the more humiliating.

He leaves as fast as possible.

The third time it happens, he doesn't ask Namjoon for the time.

He walks past him, but then he stops. And he turns around and, well, it's supposed to come out as an apology for falling asleep, but what he says really turns into more of a distressed mental breakdown about how he feels like he should spend more money here and he's sorry he can't. And he feels bad for staying so long and not even buying coffee or whatever else they sell at the cafe. He would absolutely spend more money here, but he's got rent to pay and student loans. And he barely has money to spare for anything. And when he's not studying here, he's working. And his body really is just screaming to sleep all the time.

At the end of this, Namjoon tells him to sit down. He makes Hoseok a hot chocolate on the house and he tells Hoseok, once again, not to worry about it. "Everything I've put into this shop was supposed to make it a comfortable, accessible space for students. When I went to university, I didn't have money for textbooks. I was stressed to the point of not eating because I was studying so hard, and I ended up dropping out. So I made this place. and I got secondhand textbooks for people to use--there's never enough, really, but it's the least I can do. You can get discounts on books here as a student, and, within reason, obviously, there's free drinks and food. You can stay as long as you like."

All of this new information overwhelms Hoseok a little bit, so the only thing he can get out of his mouth is, "You own this place?"

Namjoon sheepishly explains how he called the bookshop Namu's because namu sounds a bit like namjoon. And also books are made out of trees and stuff. It's a dumb name, but he likes it.

They talk for a long time that night, about Namjoon's university experiences and Hoseok's. Namjoon has a whole plethora of advice for him, resources to help with rent and other money related issues. It's all been available in the shop the entire time, pamphlets by the till that Hoseok never got close enough to look at.

It's midnight by the time Hoseok leaves, thanking Namjoon profusely, a weight off his shoulders.

The next time he goes into the bookshop, Namjoon brings him a drink and some food. And it kind of becomes their thing. Hoseok arrives, makes himself comfortable, and Namjoon finds him. Sometimes they talk a little. Hoseok still falls asleep. and when he wakes up to find it's dark, Namjoon is always sweeping the floor and ready to offer him hot chocolate and an hour or so of conversation.

Hoseok begins looking forward to seeing Namjoon, not just being in the bookshop. And he thinks Namjoon looks forward to seeing him too. They drop the formal honourifics. And not long after that, Hoseok decides to drop the fact he's gay into one of their conversations.

Namjoon doesn't react at all. And it scares Hoseok a little at first—he spends a night tossing and turning in bed wondering if Namjoon might not treat him the same way tomorrow.

It's impossible not to notice Namjoon's stiffness the next day. He seems twitchy and uncomfortable, and he can't look Hoseok in the eye. They talk that night, but Hoseok leaves early, freaking out and most of all just sad. He'd thought Namjoon wouldn't be bothered. And he wonders why Namjoon is as he trudges down the road, snow swirling in the air around him.

It's almost Christmas, and now it feels like everything's ruined. His friends are going back to see their families. He wouldn't go and spend Christmas with his family if he did have the money to travel there. Seokjin had offered to let Hoseok spend Christmas with him and his boyfriend, but they were insufferable when you were the third wheel. A couple of weeks ago, Namjoon had told him the shop stayed open on Christmas day for the students who couldn't go home for Christmas. “There are way more than you'd think. It sort of becomes a party.” He even got out a little karaoke machine so people could sing carols. Hoseok had been planning on spending Christmas in the shop with Namjoon, but now he's not sure he can. Or that there's any point.

Still, he ends up going because he's pathetic and spending Christmas day in the most unfestive dingy little apartment--his apartment--in the world is just depressing. He hasn't gone to the bookshop since the night Namjoon acted so shifty. It was kind of his way of mentally preparing for the worst. Distance would make it easier if Namjoon turned out to be homophobic. supposedly, anyway.

He tries not to spend an hour in front of the mirror, fiddling with his collar and his hair and wondering if his jeans really go with his shirt. Because what's the point of looking nice for Namjoon if Namjoon might be an asshole? But he does spend an hour there anyway because, honestly, he refuses to believe this day could get any more depressing. If Namjoon acts weird around him, he can go sit in his reading nook. It's not like they have to be around each other tonight.

It's a shock when he steps into the shop. The little book tables have been pushed to the side. It all feels so much more spacious than before. There's a Christmas tree in the window, tinsel and fairy lights draped on the shelves. It's the crowd that really surprises him, and the singing. Someone is belting a Christmas carol atop a stage that looks like it's been made out of a few pieces of wood and a cloth. People are singing along with them. There's talk and laughter. Alcohol. It's quaint and lovely. And he finds himself liking Namjoon even more just knowing he'd set all this up. There are even a few people tucked into the armchairs reading.

He hears Namjoon before he sees him. He's weaving through the crowd, talking here, nodding his head there, interacting with everyone like he knows everyone.

When their eyes meet, Hoseok lifts a hand tentatively, waving and mouthing a "hey".

Namjoon holds up two fingers--i'll be right with you, just a sec. And before Hoseok can get close enough to talk, he's disappearing between two girls towards the counter.

Ten minutes pass with Hoseok standing awkwardly at the edge of the crowd. Ten minutes isn't that long, he tells himself. Namjoon would be busy because he'd be short on staff because it's Christmas, so it's not weird that he hasn't come back yet.

It gets weird when ten minutes turns to forty, though. At some point, he makes his way over to the counter and got himself a drink. A girl serves him. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. He thinks about going to his reading nook, but that suddenly seems even more pathetic than not going to the party at all. It’s all pretty pathetic, to be honest. Standing on the sidelines of a party with no friends, dressed nice and waiting for someone who may or may not be uncomfortable with you just existing. And maybe he’s being paranoid about it, but it pays to count it as a possibility.

After an hour and half, Hoseok shrugs into his coat and lets himself out into the cold. Snow is piled on the pavements, still fluttering in the air. It crunches under his boots. Cars drone past, headlights too bright.

The shop bell tinkles. Someone else leaving. At least he's not the only one.

"Wait, you're leaving already?"

He turns to see Namjoon standing in the middle of the pavement, awkward and out of place in his apron, hands clasped behind his back. Snowflakes are already catching in his hair. He swallows the lump in his throat. "Body's screaming for sleep."

"Oh," Namjoon says bluntly, brow furrowing. "Yeah, the shop’s not really... good for sleeping in right now, is it? Sorry tonight's so busy."

Hoseok lifts one shoulder in what he hopes is a nonchalant shrug. "No, it's nice in there. I'm just not really in the mood tonight. I'll see you next year, uh, I suppose?"

Namjoon nods, the movement oddly jerky. "Yeah. Next year."

"See you." Hoseok bobs his head, turning away.

"Wait," Namjoon calls, footsteps muffled by the snow.

He stops in front of Hoseok, breath pluming in the air. "I... I have something for you. Two things, actually. You don't have to open them now. Merry Christmas." From behind his back, he produces a letter and what is unmistakably a book wrapped in newspaper. He shoves them into Hoseok's hands.

"For me?" Hoseok says faintly, flipping open the little card stuck on top of the newspaper. Scrawled inside is his name and below it is a small heart.

"Yeah. You,” Namjoon breathes. "I thought you might like to read something that's not a textbook for once. It's one of my favourites, so if you hate it, don't tell me."

Hoseok turns the package over, eyes prickling. "Thank you. I-I'll open it when I get home. I don't want it getting snowed on. I..." His smile fades, the swell of happiness in his chest quelled. "I didn't get you anything."

"And there's no obligation to get me anything," Namjoon says, bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously. "I got it because I wanted to give you a present."

He tucks the package into his coat pocket, hoping the heat in his cheeks will be mistaken as a reaction to the cold. He tears open the letter eagerly.

Namjoon winces, hands coming up, "Be careful. Don't rip what's inside."

Out slides two cinema tickets and a folded piece of notepaper.

"If the date doesn't work for you, we can change it. Or if you don't want to go at all, it's fine,” Namjoon says quickly. "I won't be offended, but I thought it was worth asking to see if you'd be interested."

"Interested?" Hoseok mumbles, unfolding the paper.

Namjoon snatches it, paper crumpling in his fist. "Actually, uhm, I may as well say it instead of you reading it. I am right here."

"Okay," Hoseok smiles shyly, trying not to hold his breath. "Sure."

"Well, this part isn't in the note, but you look really nice tonight. you look nice every time I see you, but..." Namjoon laughs awkwardly, face flushing red. He drops his gaze to Hoseok's boots. "Anyway..." he clears his throat.

"Anyway?" Hoseok prompts softly.

His fingers are going numb now they aren't in his pockets. He puts the tickets back in the envelope and stows it away beside the book.

Then he waits, watching Namjoon fidget with the bracelet on his left wrist.

"I... am... bisexual," he says slowly, each word punctuated with a nod of the head. "I should have said that two weeks ago when you said you were gay, but I was nervous. Because even other queer people sometimes... don't want me because of that... and I didn't want you to not want me. I really enjoy our talks. You're so funny and intelligent--you're going to have no trouble getting your degree. this isn't in the note either, but i feel like you're smarter than me, so that also made me nervous. I'd imagine you'd want to date someone on your level, but I've spent a lot of time not asking people I like out. I would have asked you out sooner, but you haven't visited in two weeks. My initial plan was to ask you out, go on a date, then you'd come to the party and I'd do something corny with mistletoe and we'd kiss, but that didn't happen, so here we are. Uhm... hang on." He frowns, un-crumpling the note and scanning it in the dim light from the shop's window. "Uh... hang on... I lost my place... Hang on..."

Hoseok tries to speak and realises he's grinning like an idiot. And that his eyes are wet. And that if he does speak he's going to cry more and that'll be really embarrassing. So he stays quiet, taking the opportunity to run his knuckles under his eyes while Namjoon isn't looking at him.

He stifles a sniffle in the back of his hand. His fingers are fucking freezing, but he doesn't care.

"Oh," Namjoon says, "yeah, here. You're funny and intelligent. I kind of feel like those two words aren't enough to convey how... well," he stumbles, lips trembling, "funny and intelligent you are. Two words aren't enough. They fall flat. They sound hollow, like I'm not being genuine, but I am. And you're so beautiful and kind."

Hoseok presses his fingers to his lips, holding back whatever the noise is that his body is fighting to let free. It feels like something between a laugh and a sob, but all of it so full of joy it hurts to breathe. It's good to breathe, even when the ice cold air burns his throat and lungs and his tears scorch his cheeks. Crap, he's crying. He isn't supposed to be crying and he's just glad Namjoon is still reading from the letter so he can't see.

"You just make me really happy," Namjoon mumbles. "I know going to the cinema together isn't that great of a first date. Like... everyone does it and really I'd have liked to come up with something better, but I'm playing it safe because I didn't want to pick something you'd hate and look stupid. It's kind of hard not to like the cinema. I booked the tickets for the evening showing so we can have dinner, um..." He lowers the letter suddenly, gripping the paper so hard his knuckles lose their colour. "This is stupid. I'm sorry."

"What?" Hoseok blurts, still smiling, his half sob half laugh coming out not a second later.

Namjoon isn't looking at him. He's as tall as Hoseok, if not taller, but he suddenly looks so small and defeated and conscious of every bone in his body that it breaks Hoseok's heart.

"Wait here," he tells him, a lightbulb going off in his head.

Namjoon lifts his head, eyes widening in alarm when he sees hoseok's tear streaked face. "Wh--"

"Just wait. I'll be back. Close your eyes and don't look until I say so. Promise?"

Dazed, Namjoon nods. "O-okay. Um..." He puts his hands over his eyes. "Like this?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I won't be a minute."

He leaves Namjoon on the street, feet slipping and sliding on the snow in his hurry. The bell on the shop door tinkles, noise and warmth engulfing him. It takes him thirty seconds to convince someone to lend him their chair so he can reach the ceiling.

A breathless, most definitely embarrassed moment of fumbling, then he's on the floor again, out the door, out of breath and in front of Namjoon again, who hasn't moved at all.

"I'm back. Open your eyes."

He giggles, the bright sound piercing the calm night. His heart is thumping wildly. There's no one on the street but them.

Namjoon lowers his hands.

Hoseok holds the bundle of plastic mistletoe high above their heads, a shock of doubt striking him. Namjoon had said he'd only planned on doing this after they'd been on a date. Was it too forward to expect this so soon?

"I--only if you want to," he stammers, dropping down from his tiptoes with a jolt. He'd been buzzing with so much pride and excitement at his idea that he doesn't remember beginning to stand on them. "No pressure, i--"

In one swift movement, Namjoon takes him by the collar and pulls. They meet in the middle of the space between them. A peck that doesn't last long enough for Hoseok to fully register the soft sensation of Namjoon's mouth on his.

Namjoon steps back slightly, pressing his lips together. His dimples pop out, cheeks tinted pink. He drops his head as he laughs, looking at Hoseok from beneath long, soft lashes. There's a snowflake caught on them.

"I-it's not stupid," Hoseok says, lowering his arm slowly. He fiddles with the mistletoe, twirling it between his fingers. "Everything you said was... all I've wanted to say to you for the last few months."

Namjoon's hands are still on his collar and he can feel how cold they are through the thin material. Still, there's something comforting about the touch that spurs him to keep speaking instead of attempting another kiss.

"Sorry people haven't wanted you. That's so stupid and ignorant... They didn't deserve you... Um, I was worried you wouldn't want me too. Not romantically, just… in any way…"

"What? Why?" Namjoon asks, pain flashing in his eyes. "Did I do something?"

Hoseok shakes his head quickly. "No. You just didn't say anything when I told you I was gay. It's not like I expected a fanfair, but... a 'that's cool' or something... just so I know you're okay with it. But you seemed kind of shifty... It freaked me out..."

"You thought I wasn't okay with it?" Namjoon's eyes shimmer.

Hoseok flushes, huffing a shaky laugh. "Well, it sounds stupid now."

"No," Namjoon says earnestly, grip tightening, "that makes sense. I'd have done the same. I'm sorry," he continues, brow wrinkling in distress. "I can't believe I didn't think that you'd feel that way. Feels like I failed at being gay."

His entire body feels wobbly after his small confession. It's embarrassing how exposed it makes him feel. How fragile, but Namjoon's words make him smile softly. "I don't know how to break it to you, but... it's hard to fail at being gay when you're kissing guys under mistletoe and writing them love letters for christmas."

He holds the mistletoe up between them. "Do we need this this time?"

"This time?" Namjoon laughs.

This time, Hoseok drops the mistletoe in the snow so he can take Namjoon's face in both hands to kiss him. And he does kiss him, softly, slowly. He soaks up the feeling of Namjoon's lips turning up in a smile, preserving it in his mind, framing it. Namjoon's skin smells faintly of the fresh coffee served at the bookshop. his hands are now in hoseok's hair.

It's perfect.

He's freezing.

But despite the happiness bursting in his chest, he thinks about the last year of university ahead of him and what might happen when he leaves. Namjoon has a life here, a business, a purpose. So does Hoseok, but the life he's mapped out for himself after university is so detached from Namjoon's cosy little world. Namjoon is settled. Hoseok is not. His plans have never been to stay here. And he's not about to try to drag Namjoon around the world with him. He can't ask that of Namjoon when Namjoon has so clearly found a calling in life. He's content with little things. He doesn't need the world like Hoseok does. He just needs to know he's making people's lives that little bit more bearable.

They have an expiration date. Namjoon must know it too. It isn't like they haven't talked about Hoseok's plans to travel. Does he think they'll do long distance? Is the unread part of Namjoon's letter asking Hoseok to stay?

The kiss ends, leaving Hoseok disoriented and twisted up inside. He smiles when Namjoon asks if he wants to go back inside, and decides maybe tonight isn't the time to think about a year from now. It's Christmas and he needs a few drinks to wash away the jitters of their talk. He doesn't want to ruin it just yet. He can ask Namjoon tomorrow where he thinks this is supposed to go. But for now, all he does is let Namjoon take his hand and squeeze gently, before they both head towards the bookshop.

As they step back into the shop, the familiar sense of home wraps around him, and he thinks he could spend a happy life here someday. He can see himself helping Namjoon behind the counter, pouring drinks, helping people find books. He's not thought too deeply about children before, but maybe they could have one. Namjoon seems like the kind of person who would want kids.

It all feels a bit absurd to picture them staying together forever, but he wants it to last. At least, at this moment in time.

They spend the next few hours apart for the most part, Namjoon run off his feet. Hoseok offers to help, but Namjoon won't hear of it. And when things quieten down, they find a corner to tuck themselves into, away from prying eyes.

By the time Namjoon walks him home, Hoseok only has one question, and it's one he's not sure he can ask just yet.

If I went away for awhile, would you wait for me?

#namseok drabble #namseok fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au #namseok au #namseok #christmas confessions #bookshop owner namjoon #namjoon #hoseok #hoseok x namjoon

[raplinesmoon]

the way home

what happens on your way home from date night?

pairing: bts x reader genre(s): fluff au(s): established relationship au word count: 1.8k warnings: none, just softness rating: g

a/n: this was inspired by me, as a very single girl in a big city, having no one to get up to trouble with on my way home from going out. i passed by one of those flower stands and bought a boquet, and it made me think of these short drabbles.

namjoon

The autumn leaves crunched under your heels as you and Namjoon walk side by side, his arm wrapping tight around your waist to shield you from the crisp chill in the air. The gallery opening had you buzzing with excitement all evening, Namjoon and you slack-jawed over the various pieces, studying and marveling over them together. Eventually though, your eyelids had begun to droop, and Namjoon knew it was time to go home. And so, the two of you set off on the not-long, but not short either walk through the city streets, the promise of a warm bed fueling your desire to stay awake.

As you walk, Namjoon chatters along, doing his best to keep your fatigue at bay. He points to every house, waves at every dog, and stares into every storefront, until one of them makes him stop in his tracks. 

It was a bookshop, towers of books peeking at you from behind the window, the dim light indicating they were still open for business art this late hour. 

“Namjoon,” you yawn sleepily, hoping he’ll take the hint.

“___-ah, please,” Namjoon pouts, giving you a show of his dimples.

 The two of you stumble in, browsing through the impressive selection, sharing input on the latest picks you want to take home.

Eventually, the two of you bid goodbye to the kind owner, arms a little heavier, and pockets a little lighter, excited for the promise of some quality reading time before you fall asleep.

seokjin

“Arghhh,” Seokjin groans, rubbing a hand across his stomach. “I’m so full I don’t even want to think about food for another three days.”

You chuckle at his dramatic reactions, swatting him on the arm, and he yelps. The two of you had gone all out for some Korean barbeque, Seokjin insisting that you had to eat enough to “get your money’s worth”. You just hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite you later. 

“Liar, we both know you’re already thinking about breakfast tomorrow,” you tease him, loving the way his ears turn red.

His walk slows down all of a sudden, his eyes glinting with mischief as he catches sight of something. Following his gaze, your eyes widen and your stomach sinks when you see the sign in the ice cream shop window.

“Lovers’ Sundae for two,” it reads. “Any couple to finish in less than ten minutes wins a prize!”

“Jin, no,” you barely have enough time to protest before he’s dragging you inside.

. . . 

One gigantic sundae later, and the two of you are giggling, laughter bouncing off the walls, doomed to crash from the inevitable sugar high that’s befallen you. The restaurant staff had gathered around to cheer your efforts as you took the massive dessert down bite by bite, hollering with applause when the metal of your spoons met the bottom of the bowl.

“I hope we don’t regret doing this for the prize tomorrow morning,” you groan.

Jin takes your hand in his, smiling at you from across the table.

“I already won before we even started. I got you, didn’t I?”

yoongi

Yoongi yawns, his mouth stretching wide like a cat’s as he stretches, and you rub soothing circles across his back. The concert had gone on longer than you’d expected, and you internally curse yourself for keeping him up late when you knew he had upcoming deadlines. 

If he was mad at you, Yoongi didn’t show it, pulling you against his chest as the two of you walked through the subway station, hurrying along so you wouldn’t miss your ride home. His warm arms instantly made you feel safer among the hectic crowd, your heart finally at ease.

Suddenly, you come to a halt, Yoongi crashing into you as he stops, taking in the lilting tune of a song that has begun to echo across the tracks. You barely have time to say anything before Yoongi sets off, you in tow as the train that you were supposed to be on thundered into the station. Your mouth opens in surprise, but you follow him to the source of the music.

It’s a young violinist, caught in a passionate rendition of one of the very songs you’d heard tonight. Their fingers flit effortlessly across the strings, the notes melding into a seamless harmony, and you find yourself bopping along. Beside you, Yoongi goes completely still, his feline eyes surveying the musician curiously.

As the song comes to an end, you barely catch wind of Yoongi moving beside you, before he drops a hefty tip into their instrument case, the violinist’s eyes widening in shock at the generous gesture. 

Yoongi says nothing, giving them a smile and a wave, before grabbing your hand in his, leading you back towards the platform.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

hoseok

“God Hobi, my feet hurt,” you whine, your lower lip trembling as you limp down the sidewalk in your heels, Hoseok offering you a steady arm to lean against.

Your feet feel like they’ve been rubbed raw, blisters forming on your heels, and you resist the urge to let a few tears escape. You didn’t want him to feel bad. The dance lesson had been harder than you expected, but Hoseok’s smile had made it all worth it, shining brightly in the dimly lit room as he twirled you in his arms. 

Hoseok had wanted to hit the club after, his feet ready for more, but you’d begged against it. Except now the guilt was setting in as the two of you traversed the short distance home down a couple of streets.

Suddenly Hoseok comes to a stop.

“Give me your shoes,” he says, slipping out of his own dress shoes and picking them up, offering them to you.

“Hobi, I can’t,” you argue, but he listens to none of it, quietly bending down to slip the heels off and his own shoes on, triple knotting the laces so they won’t slide off your feet.

“What about you?” you ask curiously, guffawing when you see him slip the heels on, the sparkly straps a stark foil to his sophisticated suit.

“If you can handle dancing in these for me, I think I can handle the five-minute walk up to the apartment,” he laughs, his amusement echoing into the night air as he leads you home. When you reach upstairs, he slips the shoes off your feet.

“I know we said no more dancing for tonight, but how about we twirl into bed together?”

jimin

“Park Jimin, for the last time, I said no way!” your face turns red as you scream at your boyfriend, his pouty lips making you instantly feel guilty for raising your voice.

You didn’t even want to think about how much money he’d spent tonight, from the fancy restaurant to the expensive limo, and now he wanted to spoil you even more? Your conscience was unable to handle his kindness, always wishing you could do something in return.

“___, come on, please it’d look so good on you,” he whines, gesturing to the red dress in the store window. “We should just try it on.”

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, but he’s already walking inside. You trail along after him, the sales assistant flocking to you and squealing in excitement as Jimin points to the dress from the window. What happened to going home and watching cartoons?

Before you can even protest, you’re ushered into the changing room, the curtains swishing behind you as you come face to face with the dress. It really was beautiful. Trying it on wouldn’t hurt, right?

You step out shyly from behind the curtain, Jimin’s jaw dropping when he sees you in the red fabric. 

“We’ll take it,” he tells the cashier immediately, and you blush when he shoots you a wink.

You fiddle with your thumbs nervously, only for him to come up to you and press a kiss to your cheek.

“I know what you’re going to say, but just let me spoil you, okay? Date night is for you to feel special, and it’s not over just yet.”

taehyung

“Tae, it’s getting late,” you tap your foot impatiently, wondering why he’s deviated from your usual route to the bus stop. It was a busy night, the fireworks drawing an endless crowd, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up against him on the couch right now.

“I knew I saw it somewhere around here,” Taehyung mumbles, eyes focused on the road ahea, barely casting you a second glance. You frown. What could be so important that he’d forget Yeontan waiting for him at home?

You walk down a couple more shady streets, the darkness causing you to lean into Taehyung’s chest, before you hear an “aha!” and you gasp.

Flowers. Tons of them. The two of you have come to a stop outside one of the plentiful streetside flower stalls, the fresh scent of the blooms permeating your nostrils.

“Ahhh Taehyung-ssi,” the old woman running the stall beams at him. “So good to see you again. And I see you brought someone with you this time.”

The woman smiles at you, and Taehyung brings you towards the stall.

“Pick any of them,” he gestures to the spread, and you feel your heart blossom with love for him. 

You don’t know how long the two of you spend staring at the flowers, feeling each petal in between your fingertips, but by the end, you’re carrying a bouquet the size of your head, filled with an assortment of colors and fragrances.

“Aren’t you glad we stopped by now?” Taaehyung smirks, taking one of the flowers to tuck behind your ear.

All you can do is smile.

jungkook

You’re lost. The two of you are lost and Jungkook knows it. You know it too, but you hold it in. It hadn’t been his fault. The two of you had wandered in the wrong direction after catching the latest superhero flick at the theatre, and now you were paying the price.

While you’d been ready to chew Jungkook out, you knew it wasn’t his fault. In fact, as the streets got darker and more ominous, you were thankful for his presence beside you, making you feel protected. 

“My phone died,” Jungkook curses under his breath. “We’ll just have to retrace our steps.”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, and the two of you carefully make sure to walk back the exact path you came. Except halfway through, Jungkook gets distracted, leaving your side to run inside an empty park.

“Jungkook, are you for real,” you groan, but stop when you hear him howl with laughter, using his muscular arms to launch himself onto the monkey bars.

“C’mere!” he waves you over, and you break out into a grin, jogging towards him. The two of you take turns going down the slide, Jungkook daring you to go on your back, while you push him to go on his belly.

The two of you giggle in a race on the swings, pushing to see who’ll go the highest, and before you know it, the nighttime sky has made way to the dawn, hues of pink and purple breaking through the inky blue. 

Yawning, Jungkook reaches for your hand, and you give him a yawn back.

“Now we can find our way home.”

A/N pt. Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

#bts #bts au #bts fanfiction #bangtanbathhouse #btshoneyhive #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts headcanons #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #rm x reader #jin x reader #suga x reader #j hope x reader #v x reader

[holdinbacksecrets]

hii lovely, do you have any fic recs?

actually while we’re at it, your writings and the things you reblog are just beautiful, do you have any book recs too?

i have so many! and thank you for sharing kind words 🖤

my bts side blog is @sayeuphoria and my fic rec tags are ‘sticky feelings’ and ‘sweet like honey’

i’ll also make a little list of my favorite fics and ones i go back to regularly. the majority of these are 18+. mdni

also, please interact with fics you love. reblog them! reblog them with tags! reblog them with comments! send an ask or message to the author! but please reblog. you know how good it feels to take yourself out for a little treat? that’s how reblogs feel, and they make writers want to keep writing. it warms the hearts of writers to know someone was touched by our work, and a part of a piece that we’re really proud of ended up being someone’s favorite part of the fic. plus, don’t you want others to read your favorite pieces?? reblog to help people find them 🖤 it’s a potluck, and if you aren’t bringing a dish (which is totally fine), at least be willing to slice and serve some cake!

Rattled by @gukslut i first read this series over the summer of 2021, and i think about it on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. i reread it every six months. it’s an absolute gem, impeccably written. one of my favorite jungkook’s i’ve ever read

My feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic i read this series as it was being posted last year, and i used to wake up so excited on the morning of a new chapter. this namjoon unleashed something in me, and i’ve been left craving love more than i used to. i love the presence of poetry too.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx this series was the first mafia au story i read and fucking loved. i’ve gone back to it so many times. i love the way hoseok’s perception of oc changes as the story progresses. oh so good and satisfying.

these blurbs by @darlingjoon tore me in half and stitched me back together

i’m a sucker for angst, and i love all the angst my lovely friend @taetaespeaches writes, especially for yoongi. perfection, but i’m going to drop some of my favorite titles of her fantastic, beautifully written work:

“i thought you left.” yoongi

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” yoongi

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.” yoongi

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.” taehyung

“Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” taehyung

“I may or may not have met someone.” taehyung

“You think I’d leave you if you falter?” jungkook

my @here2bbtstrash favorites:

deep end namjoon. this fic changed my life.

the shape of your body jimin

the spins jungkook

Love cafe by @chocosvt this jeonghan piece!!!!! AHHHHHHHH! the whole piece is amazing, but there were some scenes that were especially sweet and endearing. i remember sending a friend screenshots of dialogue freaking out.

i was so excited to share @by-moonflower-deactivated202401 bc their writing is incredible, piercing, and feels so nostalgic, but oh shit 😭😭 just learned they deactivated ☹️

book recs:

i’ve read almost everything by taylor jenkins reid, and i’ll recommend her books forever.

last year i read the book of azrael by amber v nicole and loved it. it’s a dark fantasy romance. i haven’t read the sequel yet.

this year, so far, i’ve read days at the morisaki bookshop. it’s a quick read but very sweet and comforting, with life lessons just beneath the surface. i’ve also read heavenly bodies by imani erriu. it had me screaming and kicking my feet. i posted about it here a few days ago. i’m reading the sequel right now.

dub finding ceremony by alexis pauline gumbs is a book i read my senior year of college, and it inspired a lot of writing for my independent studies prose class. braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer is another beautiful read.

#s talks #lovely nonnie #fic recs #book recs

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Between the pages | 02

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, smut, Werewolf AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: alpha!Namjoon x human!Reader

Warning: Mention of blood & rape.

Summary: Sometimes we find by sheer luck what we lost between the pages. The retrieval, however, is not always as fortunate.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

The calming aroma of golden pancakes mixed with the tang of bright orange juice and sweetness of freshly cut fruit can even be smelled under the shower regardless of the kitchen being relatively removed from the bathroom. Judging by the scent combination, it is mostly strawberries from the farm just out of town, which always brings back memories of the missing cousin of whom there is still no news up until this very day.

Withal, it is another particular perfume that tries to hide in the background and has only been noticed after having become fully aware of reality once more which makes washing off the returning nightmare, every sliver of it carried off with a drop sliding over tanned skin to the drain, that much harder. Especially since the aftermath seems worse than it has been since a long time, due to a reason that cannot be fathomed yet keeps pressing on a mute part of memory without coming through.

Something happened, but it is not clear what or Instinct is simply confused as it always is after having spent terrible hours in the dark in a semi-aware manner, needing to be cleared up like the rest of the body and mind.

Henceforth, although the essences of dawn normally nullify the hold of the dreadful dream and the abhorrent payoff, around this time of the month it does all but that. Quite to the contrary, thanks to the intruder, it forms an unconscious reminder of the animal within.

The family curse.

Nevertheless, if eyes remain closed and fingers just occupy themselves with washing silver strands and styling them in the hopes of staying put, the day can be started as any other. Begin a new twenty-four hours as a human, as a simple bookseller who lives with his restaurant-owning brother whose girlfriend stays over for at least a week straight once a month for not completely normal reasons. Tess resides with us during that period - customarily pushed to find the solution on the Monday of the third week - to solve Seokjin’s continuous problem with the apparently necessary noise.

To be honest, the same issue is caused by the affected creature inside mostly two to three days after, the tempting natural perfume of a mate already belonging to the real alpha of the Kim brothers not particularly helping whatsoever. In fact, if the rut has not started, it is almost suffocating because it also cruelly reminds of the voluntarily taken on loneliness in favour of being an ordinary individual.

Devoid of the risk of hurting a loved one in a primal craze.

Without Y/N.

Ironically, it so happens to be today that Seokjin is loudly taken out of the game if the zesty yet not overly pungent summery smell drifting in from beneath the bathroom door and leading through the living room to the general hallway is any indication. Henceforth, before the earthly brown wolf can drop any hint of wanting to rush out of the kitchen to open the door and completely abandon the focus on cooking breakfast, a fire hazard nothing to be worried about because continuing the bloodline has priority, bare feet already tread over the mulga floor to the cool clay tiles leading to the front door.

While ignoring the heavy musk to the best ability allows without gagging, slender digits of a grey wolf wearing a disguise decorated with casual jeans and a plain white T-shirt mould around the bronze knob to grant entrance to the mate of the dedicated alpha. Likely it is for the better it is me answering the doorbell because the cook already seemed very eager to turn on his heel to take on the task instead.

Anything for a somewhat tranquil start of the day.

Just one meal without any otherworldly hustle.

‘Please do something about Jin.’ Light eyes stare up into pure chocolate ones in amused surprise, the finger still reached out for the doorbell lowering while a smug smirk forms. ‘By the way, good morning.’

‘I felt the mating mark heat up around five in the morning but figured it wouldn’t be a problem until at least seven. But, just in case, I also set a monthly reminder because getting up early in the morning remains an art I’ll never master.’ The enjoyment of the previously made comment fades from a round face as the lingering negativity not washed away by warm drops unfortunately not filled with oblivion is noticed. Of course, it does not pass under the radar since the she-wolf immediately knows it when something bothers a person or peer, mainly due to working in the medicinal branch related to animals and thus also having to interact with their owners. Not that it is hard to miss in general if one is to go by the melancholy air about a posture that tries to hide the nightmare.

Briefly, eyes show a pop of honey gold, the severe mood bringing out the motherly omega. ‘You had that dream again, didn’t you?’

A nod, confirming the answer without speaking. Although genuine concern clearly comes through in speech, there is nothing that can be done to make the mind stop replaying the corrupted memory.

Nothing ever will be able to do so until sight has been graced with Y/N, alive and well, away from the community hidden within society.

A strange pity comes through in the vet assistant’s attitude, quite unlike the sort normally shown at the mention of what punishment Imagination conjured up during the dusky hours. Somehow that unrecognizable emotion strengthens the sense of something bigger having happened but missing out on the event and being blind to the impact.

Nonetheless, before a word can be spoken about the lingering suspicion - the sole other person available for talking to about personal beast-related problems is the absent psychiatrist who is a barista in his spare time in the bookstore - Seokjin rounds the corner, clearly elated at the sight of the small figure in the entryway.

‘Tess! Talk about timing. We were just about to eat.’ Wiping digits stained with the  traces of the preparation of the meal which is now unmistakably beckoning - bitter coffee mixed with the comforting scent of eggs and pancakes alongside that from the seasonal fruits - from the cherrywood dining table, a vapor of musk almost directly nullifies the fresher albeit regardlessly sickeningly nectarous scent emitted by a mate craving their alpha upon coming closer.

Ruby colours for a split second normally identical eyes, indicating actually having an appetite for a whole other type of sustenance yet wanting to keep up airs of normalcy for a defect pack member. Though it is well-meant, it does nothing in the way of feeling any more human than when going straight to the point and leaving the waiting meal for what it is.

Again irises change to a shade of crimson out of warning when briefly locking gazes, the instinct to protect especially against the attempted claim - or so it might feel like despite the lack of desire to actually do so - of another on the beloved moving the transformation instead of something personal. Judgment or conflict is never in place when real nature shows itself because, either intentionally or not, during this period of fertile madness Jin is not the overly caring sibling who makes cringingly bad jokes.

He is the very personification of the curse, the powerful and proud alpha.

The accomplished one, worthy of the old pure blood flowing through the veins.

Albeit a portrayal tainted by the endeavour to control it in favour of the brother who cannot cope with what becomes the other so incredibly well. The outcast who has never gained any sort of mastery over the second savage persona even after five years of hard training, discipline and medicines to repress primal urges once a month and put the overall bloodthirsty demon to as deep a slumber as possible.

All to no avail.

Still a failure after all.

A disgrace to the ancient Kim pack.

A low growl unintentionally escaping when putting an arm around shoulders reaching the height of the middle of the broad chest, the chef at home leads Tess to the dining room. Making sure all the while to steer her just outside the reach of another child of the moon, as the poets would say.

But there is nothing poetic about this story.

In spite of the underlying sentiment of rivalry in the current behaviour, there is no competition in vying for attention since a mark formed by pale pink ragged flesh, the wound has never truly healed, on the shoulder blade is the foundation for an unbreakable bond. Furthermore, the sole thing which has ever been wanted from the sibling’s partner is a listening ear and advice shaped by the greater knowledge about humanity, which has been cultivated by daily contact on a personal level with those unlike us. The latter, in particular, offers the comfort Seokjin at times cannot give due to not really having a sense of what it is like hating the image reflected in the mirror, resulting in mostly sitting on a nearby surface and fulfil the role of an absent deaf man.

Fortunately, the small girl does understand, though acceptance of the condition came soon after being mated by the same wolf who caused the radical shift in persona. It was a reckless decision, made on no other grounds than finally having the individual who has been held dear all this time as a part of the pack as an equal in terms of nature, regardless of thus adding credibility to the rumours about the illegal activities that have supposedly kept the bloodline alive.

Perhaps part of the accusations are true since not every relative, still walking the earth or concealed beneath its surface in eternal rest, has had to endure the curse from the moment of birth. Nevertheless, all of them have forgotten at a certain point what living is like by simply going day by day without any supernatural powers or being similar to any other little piece of existence strolling the pavement.

What it is like to be normal.

This type of ignorance was the reason for moving in with the brown-haired chef alongside the man’s recognition the current environment was everything but healthy, pushing the choice a bit under the mirage of unconsciously doing so to keep up appearances for parents unapproving of any wolf unlike them. Certainly of dishonouring mongrels running amok, though they have not found out up until this very day the youngest son is one.

Breakfast passes in silence devoid of the comfortable atmosphere normally hanging in the air, even during the week wherein getting proper rest is pretty much impossible for each affected party because of various reasons. Eyes try to remain focused on the stack of golden pancakes dribbled over with honey which softens the bitter taste of the daily espresso, but thoughts keep drifting off to the images repeating themselves through the night and the nagging feeling of overlooking something significant. The latter especially applies this morning thanks to Tess’s weird expression earlier regardless of the fact it might not be related to the suspicion whatsoever.

‘Namjoon, are you- Babe, please, not yet.’ In place of opting for eating, the alpha across the table has begun softly nibbling on the mating mark on the side of a pale neck while purring, clearly wanting to retreat to the bedroom as fast as possible. However, the beloved obviously has another idea as a laborious push puts distance between a heated body aching with sensual craving and the one reacting to it but trying to hold off to make sure the third wheel is not dismissed without further notice. ‘Are you alright?’

Appetite entirely subsides as the gleaming polished metal fork is put down beside the half-filled plate, only one pancake having been touched at all. With an air of casualty to mask the growing sense of concern, the inquiry is answered. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like this is the first time it happened. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.’

‘He hasn’t told you, has he?’ The eyes of the smaller brown she-wolf soften before becoming fierce when turning to Jin, the stern sentiment flowing over in speech. ‘You said you’d talk to him.’

‘I forgot, dear.’ A shaking exhale betrays the inner fight for control, wanting to surrender to Primality already yet aware that the apparently important subject at hand needs to be discussed. ‘I didn’t want to trouble him and you know he can’t help it.’

‘Told me what? What’s going on?’ As has been the case from the moment of moving in with the older sibling, certain details have remained hidden out of the belief it would only benefit the care for a monster desperately and comically trying to play pretend at being human. Notwithstanding, the concealment has never continued over a longer period of time since aroused suspicions pushed the urge to gain answers despite their potential ugliness.

And it does so again right now, wanting to hear the true tale, aching to know about the damage.

Because, judging by the knot forming in the gut, the beast within has reigned supreme again in spite of the efforts to tame it.

I took the pills. But why can I remember a different taste of blood so vividly then? It was delicious. Human. I haven’t... I’m not a monster. The medication should have done its job and Jin would never take me to a place where people would be when I’m... not myself. I must be wrong. I have to be. But it was so so good.

‘Are you going to do it or shall I?’ The intonation of the vet assistant suggests a severe approach to the pressing topic is about to be taken and, apparently, by her since no reply comes from the barely sensible alpha. An almost inaudible resigning sigh escapes lips before softening the gaze turning towards the discombobulated and gradually getting more gravely agonized demonic bookseller. ‘Joon, do you remember where you were on the last full moon, two weeks ago?’

‘Why do you ask? I was in the woods, far away from the town.’ Nothing was different from the normal procedure on rough amnesiac nights, going to the remote forest in the distant valley about an hour and a half to two hours drive away from home after having made the necessary preparations.

Thus far there has been no obvious trigger for the discomfort making the body shift nervously from side to side on the chair, the ministrations ever so scarcely noticeable though the sharp animalistic senses belonging to the present company clearly pick up on the unrest. However, neither of the couple seems to have eased as well as the talk carries on. In fact, it can be said each party is only growing more restless in the face of reaching an outcome that cannot be evaded.

With a new question, though, it is nevertheless tried. ‘Did you take your medicines?’

At the discovery of the futility of the long hours of supervision and training, a final resort to medicinal treatment was taken after extensive research on effects and risks with Hoseok and Jin. The former dove deep into the archives and is the sole person with knowledge about how to make the non-lethal pills, which have been helpful in the attempts of becoming more like the man who is aspired to be like since they suppress the rutting symptoms to a bearable and manageable degree. Though still having to retreat from society for a hurtful long irregular week, the pain of being unmated alongside the haphazard transformations would have been grander were it not for the repressing concoction of wolfsbane and silver, just enough to keep the beast within sedated.

Such an untamable creature had not been dealt with since the last similarly powerful children of the moon had been eradicated by the end of the 17th century, all of them ticking time-bombs about to explode and betray the well-concealed kin and peers to the public. Henceforth, albeit bittersweet, multiple alphas, betas and omegas who were present during the executions were relieved that the secret remained in spite of not directly showing it in the direct light of the demise of faces both known and foreign.

Later on, as science developed and the belief in werewolves transformed into a mental disease called “lycanthropy”, renegade wolves were sent to asylums like Lambeth by family members in hopes of the doctors being able to help at least a bit in the transformation of an inherently savage nature. However, as with every form of progress, details were missing in the earliest versions of research, thus causing failures from which others might learn. Hence is why treatment regularly failed, ending in death either by an overdose on the mixture of poison taken today in a lesser amount as an anaesthetic or the syringe.

That was the fate for those who were given a chance at endeavouring, or were, rather, forced to change but still had help. Yet there were also the madhouses specifically designed for execution where most of the Oldbloods, ancient werewolf families like the Kims, sent their uncontrollable relatives for they were the true dangers to the civilization that were dealt with more cruelly in the past.

Far beyond redemption.

Like me.

Fortunately, with the extreme rareness of the condition nowadays and the mental institutions gradually closing, a sole one is left active to extract death punishment on order of The High Council, the organisation consisting of the heads of every Oldblood family and its branches which discusses issues like ongoing affairs and crimes against the race. Otherwise, they have become another fragment of the past obscured by human history while some remember the truth behind the story and fear the last living remnant.

A nod assures the reply to the pharmaceutical question, fairly certain if not entirely of having done nothing to stray from normal protocol. ‘Yes.’

But the short comment is taken with a grain of salt, motherly doubt coming through in the tone of the reaction. Although the alpha’s girlfriend means well - always taking care of not only the beloved boyfriend but also his brother in whom a sort of peer was found at the first meeting - the careful approach serves the irritation building up at being kept in the dark about something clearly gone wrong. ‘Are you sure?’

I did silence the voice of the wolf. But, the prey was delicious, the flesh was so tender despite the muscle. No, I took the pills. The hunt was certainly worth the trouble. No, there was nothing but sheep’s blood in the end.

But if that is the reality of the issue, then remembering should not end at the empty abyss forming part of the memory gap. ‘I think I did.’ Quick glances are shared between the omega and the mate on the adjacent seat, who manages to - albeit temporarily yet impressively - repress every primal desire to pick up on the mental war being waged across the table in the eyes of a haunted soul which has finally found the key to the reason for the nagging feeling of ignorance. Guilt mixes with fear and self-loathing into a dangerous concoction that mostly follows the image of having killed Y/N, unable to stop the creature from devouring her.

The sole grace which is sometimes granted is that the woman who was to become the wife of a bookseller is not raped before the crimson flows richly.

But this time around there is no redemption.

Only pure agony.

Gaze averts from the amiable company to the cherrywood surface of the table, trembling fists filled with inward hatred underneath. This should not be happening, been left behind long ago. This cannot end with death in a clinical environment if the building and reasoned assumption proves truthful. ‘What have I done?’

I should be better than this, be more in control of myself. This isn’t me, some murderous beast. I’ve never wanted to be like this. But... I am... and it has cost me my wife and now even myself. Why can’t I remember?

Seokjin proves to be the one to take the lead in breaking the news, pausing every so often to remain calm and composed, for as far as that is possible when the rut is tainting each aspect of common sense. ‘One of my employees, Jungkook, is hospitalized. He was camping with his girlfriend in the woods and was attacked by a rabid animal.’

Pause, taking a moment to clutch an arm around the stinging pain in the nether regions, the body sick of having to wait to procreate and wanting to start a family right this instance.

Continue, regret distorting a steady voice.

‘I went by during visiting hours last week for further investigation, ask a few questions, but he was barely conscious. Pumped full with morphine, fortunately, because a quick look under the sheets told me enough about the wound on his hip. Not a pretty sight and the pain can only be fathomed. However, he kept anxiously mumbling about a monster black as night with red eyes. I tried to make sense of it without thinking of you, Joon, I really did.’

Pause, trying to suppress a familiar potion of anger and inward hatred that has been drunk many times before by a bookseller.

Continue, a sliver of panic seeping in.

‘Later, as I was about to return home, I came across Hoseok in the hallway, worried just as much as I was. He, too, asked me the same questions we asked you because he said the woods where Jungkook was found were the place where we go on full moons.’ A hush befalls the room as the information is pieced together and sinks in. ‘I know I fucked up big time and for that, I am tremendously sorry. Jungkook just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but you also know what this means. It is merely a matter of time before they find out and can use this against you, against our family. I know I am guilty of the crime of turning as well, but the rabidness inside will deliver you to the end of the line. I don’t want to lose my baby brother.’

‘Serves me right because I should be punished for the mistake, not our family. This is not worth losing ground over.’ For with the loss of honour, comes the loss of power. And that is not a burden to be placed upon the people who unintentionally failed in raising a second heir.

‘Namjoon...’

I’m sorry I failed you, Y/N. I know I should be apologetic to Jin, but it’s you who has kept me going all this time, let me anticipate a reunion. I’m sorry, baby. For everything. For never having been nor have the potential to be the right man if human at all. For being me.

None of us says it, but right across from amber and ruby eyes sits a disgrace unfit to ever lead the pack nor rule the territory in its name.

A lunatic that not even an asylum can save.

A dead man whose hands should have tied the noose already a long time ago.

The beast incarnate.

#BTS #Bangtan #BTS x Reader #BTS smut #BTS Werewolf AU #Werewolf AU #BTS Bookshop AU #Bookshop AU #Namjoon #RM #Kim Namjoon #Joon #Jin #Seokjin #Kim Seokjin #Werewolf!Namjoon #Alpha!Jin #Alpha!Seokjin #Alpha!RM #Alpha!Namjoon #Between the pages

[mrsparknamjoon]

drabble #35

taehyung x reader || romance, fluff || 599 words prompt: are you warm enough? warnings: none rating: g tags: strangers to lovers, bookshop!au

It was an atypical late afternoon at the bookstore. The autumn sky outside was painted in a beautiful orange and pink gradient, as if a rain cloud had dissipated and wetted the sun, applying a natural filter to the entire scene.

Taehyung was organizing the poem's shelf when he heard the doorbell announce someone's presence. The boy leaned back, still holding his favorite Moon In Soo book, and saw a girl with wet hair and clothes approaching the counter.

“Hello” she said.

“Welcome.”

“May I use your phone?” she asked, hugging herself.

Taehyung paused for a moment, confused by the question, making her blush.

“If not that’s okay, I don't want to bother.”

“Sure, here it goes” he handed the device to the girl, taking a few steps back and returning to the shelf he was organizing minutes before.

“Hi, it's me. My car broke down, my phone died and I need a ride home. Can you come and get me?” Taehyung heard her say, "But why? You work nearby" she asked the person at the other end of the line, “I'm soaked and cold from the rain.”

After a long pause she finally replied, “I understand. What if I wait for you?” and it made Taehyung's heart drop because obviously she needed help and the person didn't seem to care.

“Right. See you later” she ended the call and turned back to the counter, reaching out and handing the phone back to Taehyung, “Here. Thank you so much.”

“Wait!” he shouted, watching the girl walk towards the door, “I just made myself a cup of tea. Would you like some?"

“It’s okay. I have to go”

“Are you sure? You can stay a little longer, call someone else...” he looked at his feet, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t wanna bother.”

"You are not bothering” Taehyung quickly looked up, meeting her eyes with an assuring expression, “I was about to close the bookstore.”

“So early?” she asked.

“It was a slow day, only two people came around noon. I think the rain scared everyone away.”

The way she laughed in response made Taehyung believe that he could help in some way. At least distract her a little from her own bad luck.

“I'm going to get more water. Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Taehyung came back minutes later with not only the teapot and a cup, but also a blanket over his forearm and a portable heater dangling in his right hand. He approached the mystery girl, now sitting on the leather sofa next to the door, and placed the items on the small table in front of her.

“What is it all this for?” her eyes widened, going from the table to Taehyung and from Taehyung to the table again.

“I thought you might be a little uncomfortable, so I brought some things to help” he smiled sheepishly, “Here is a blanket and there is chamomile tea over there. I'm going to turn on the heater too, just in case.”

An overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over the girl. She had no idea that there were still such nice people out there. The fact that not only he brought her tea but also other things to warm her, made her tear up.

Taehyung adjusted the heater next to her feet, opened the blanket, and placed it on top of her legs, respecting a safe distance between them. He then sat on his heels to calmly pour the tea.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked as he turned and handed her over the hot mug.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung drabble #taehyung scenario #bts drabble #bts scenario #drabble challenge #bts fanfic #bts au #kpop fanfic #m: kth #paring: taehyungxreader #genre: romance #genre: fluff #type: drabble #mrsparknamjoon #strangers to lovers #bookshop!au #bangtaninn #btsgoldnet #btshoneyhive

[minisugakoobies]

Baby  | KTH

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: romance, fluff, Neighbor!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: drinking, smooching (it's truly just pure fluff), mutual pining, reader is oblivious

Word Count: 5.3K

Disclaimers: None, other than I obviously don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me

Summary: It's just another Saturday night out, drinking with your favorite people, trying to pretend that you're not completely in love with your best friend.

A/N: 2018 Festa Taehyung has been haunting me for months. This is my attempt to exorcise the demon. This is my first BTS fanfic, unbeta'd. Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Prequel: Fireworks

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

It was another Saturday night, and you were hanging out at the local pub with your friends. It was a weekly tradition, drinking away the stress of the workweek with your favorite people.

But while your friends were cutting loose, eagerly downing bottles of beer and soju, several rounds deep, you were on edge, alert.

Because you were deeply in love with your best friend, Taehyung, and afraid of him finding out.

You’d known Taehyung for going on two years now, starting the day he and his roommates had moved into the house next to yours. A moving truck rolled up one morning and you’d watched as one good-looking man after another had emerged and begun unloading boxes. Around midday, you popped next door to offer some homemade lemonade to the very handsome (and very sweaty) men and introduced yourself.

You were surprised to learn that all seven of them were to be your new neighbors – but then, the only reason you could afford to live in your house on your own was because your great aunt had bequeathed it to you.

To your delight, the guys were excited to have someone from the area who could escort them around town and clue them in on all the hidden gems of your neighborhood. You’d taken Jin to the culinary hotspots, Yoongi to the underground concert venues, Jimin and Hoseok to the hottest dance clubs. Jungkook was thrilled when you’d hooked him up with a friend who was an in-demand personal trainer and Namjoon loved the hip little bookshop you’d shown him. And Taehyung had been over the moon when you’d guided him to a funky art gallery that was nestled away from the beaten path.

While you’d come to think of them all as friends, you were easily closest to Taehyung. The two of you had bonded immediately, connecting over your love of the local art scene. Taehyung was a talented photographer, and you’d quickly become his unofficial location scout, helping him find out-of-the-way locales just begging to be captured.

The hours you spent together flew by. Tae had the silliest sense of humor and could make you laugh harder than anyone else you knew. He was also so thoughtful and kind, and at some point, you realized you’d stopped looking at him as Taehyung, your friend, and started seeing him as Taehyung. As this incredible man whose smile could cause your breath to stutter and your heart to skip a beat.

Yeah, sure, obviously you’d always known he was handsome, but lately you could barely look at him without feeling like you were going to just completely melt.

You sat in your usual seat at your regular table at the pub, Taehyung on your right and Namjoon on your left. Jungkook and Jimin sat to Taehyung’s right, deep in discussion. On Namjoon’s other side, Jin, Yoongi, and Hoseok were arguing over who would get the next round of drinks. (Eventually Namjoon stepped in and volunteered, eyes rolling as he pointed out that there was no need to argue because everyone always bought one round in turn.)

Although you wanted to cut loose, you found yourself merely sipping your drink as the night wore on, afraid that too much beer would lower your guard. There was no telling what you’d say or do with too much booze in your system. What if you finally confessed your feelings to Taehyung?

No. Nope. Nuh-uh. That is NOT happening.

As the guys around you traded jokes and told stories about their exhausting weeks, your mind wandered, thinking as always about all the little things you loved about Tae.

There was his smile. When something made him truly happy, his lips would pull back to reveal a perfectly boxy grin. It was unique, and completely irresistible.

Or there was the way he would walk around randomly breaking into song. For example, you would be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to return from the kitchen with a snack, and you would suddenly hear his dulcet voice belting out a few lines of a random aria. He didn’t care where he was or who he was with – if Tae was moved to sing, then he’d sing. It made you smile every time.

And then there was the fact that he was a cuddler. All the guys were affectionate, with each other and with you, which you loved, but Taehyung, oh, Taehyung lived to hold and be held. This had you feeling like the cat that got the cream at first, luxuriating in the way he’d wrap an arm around you on the couch or pull you into his side while lying on the floor together for movie night. But now, when he reached for you, you hesitated to draw close, fearing that your face would give you away.

Because you were totally, completely in love with him, and you didn’t want him to know.

You’d been down that road before, falling for a friend. It had ended in heartbreak. The love wasn’t reciprocated, and your friendship had never recovered from your confession. The thought of losing Taehyung was too much to bear, so you did your best to keep your feelings to yourself, never letting anyone know.

As long as you could be his friend, that was enough, right?

You took another tiny sip of your beer, sighing quietly. Well, you thought you were quiet, anyway.

“Everything ok, Y/N?”

Ah, should’ve known he’d notice. Taehyung always noticed any shifts in your mood.

You shifted in your seat to look at your friend. Taehyung wore a black button down covered in a light red floral pattern and tight jeans that clung to his thighs in the most distracting way. His wavy dark hair hung in his eyes as he studied your face carefully.

He looked unbelievably handsome, as usual.

Quickly arranging your face into what you hoped was a casual expression, you shrugged. “I’m fine, Tae. Just tired after a stressful week.” You grabbed your bottle, taking another drink in the hopes of ending the conversation.

No such luck.

“So how did your presentation go yesterday?” He reached for his own bottle and tilted it back, taking a long dram. “I know you were worried about it all week.”

You’d only mentioned it to him once, this big presentation that your boss had asked you to pull together on Monday, but of course, he’d detected how stressed you’d been about it. He was so observant.

Which made you even more nervous about accidentally revealing how you felt about him.

“Well, once I remembered how to screenshare properly, it went great, thanks for asking. My boss was really impressed and said she’s going to pass along my ideas to her boss for consideration, with full credit.” You couldn’t help but grin, proud of yourself.

Taehyung’s face lit up, his boxy smile on full display. “Y/N! That’s fantastic! I told you you’d do great – you’re so amazing at your job.” He reached out and tugged you into his side for a hug. You bit back a gasp at the sudden movement, hoping that your expression hadn’t given away the sheer joy you felt at being wrapped up in his arms.

Maybe enjoying yourself for just a minute wouldn’t be so bad. You closed your eyes as Taehyung pulled you close, resting your head on his chest, basking in his warmth.

So cozy.

“Uh, did Y/N pass out already, or are you two just having a moment, Taehyung?”

Crap. Opening your eyes, you saw Jimin cocking his head at the two of you in curiosity.

“Ha, that’s rich coming from a lightweight like you, Jimin,” you shot back. You attempted to squirm out of Taehyung’s grip, but he simply tightened his grasp. God, has he always been this strong?

Images of his biceps bulging under rolled-up t-shirt sleeves suddenly came unbidden to your mind. You shook your head, as if you could clear the thirsty thoughts like wiping an Etch-a-Sketch.

Taehyung laughed cheerfully, and you could feel his voice rumbling through his chest. “We’re just celebrating! Y/N killed her work presentation, like I knew she would.” His smile was practically blinding as he grinned at Jimin.

“Did someone say they’re celebrating?” Jin’s voice cut in. “That calls for more drinks!” He waved his arms at your waiter, signaling another round.

“Don’t you want to know what we’re celebrating first?” you asked Jin, finally slithering out of Taehyung’s hug and settling back in your seat.

“Doesn’t matter! Whatever it is, it requires more alcohol. Everything is better with more alcohol!”

“What about sobriety?” Yoongi piped up, not looking up from the plate of wings that he and Namjoon were currently attacking.

Jin glared at Yoongi’s bowed head. “Why are you the way that you are?”

Yet another round of drinks soon followed. Your friends began showing their tells, tipping their hands to reveal how drunk they were becoming. Hoseok had fallen silent, his face turning a deeper shade of red with every drink. Jungkook had pulled out his phone and held it in his lap, no doubt texting “wyd” to one of his many admirers. Jimin kept tumbling out of his chair (although to be fair, he did that frequently while sober, too).

Jin was currently holding court, regaling the table with the story of how he’d found himself locked out of their house the other day wearing nothing but a bathrobe left behind by an ex... a much, much shorter ex.

Everyone at the table was laughing at Jin’s dramatic retelling. Everyone except for Taehyung, that is, who sat silently smiling to himself. He was slightly slumped over in his seat, arms folded across his chest, eyes half-shut. To the casual observer, he looked like he was enjoying Jin’s tale, but you could tell by the way he was humming to himself that he wasn’t paying any attention.

You could also tell that he was maybe one drink away from being totally and completely wasted.

Flagging down your waiter, you requested a glass of water. He returned with it quickly, and you plopped it down in front of Taehyung.

“Hey Tae?” You scooted your chair a little closer to his so he could hear you over Jin’s animated recounting.

He turned his face towards you, eyes still nearly closed. “Yeah, Y/N?” He grinned at you, and you told your treacherous heart to stop skipping beats.

“I’m gonna need you to drink this glass of water, ok? Let’s just stop with the beer for now and focus on water instead.” You slid the glass towards him.

Taehyung blinked at you, lashes dreamily fluttering closed, then slowly turned his head to look at the water before turning back to you. “Okay, baby,” he purred, his low voice vibrating through you. “I’ll drink some water.”

Baby?

You froze at the pet name. Uh. That’s new. You were close, you had your nicknames, but they’d never strayed into this territory before.

But the word sounded so nice, so natural rolling off his tongue. A warmth started to spread through your chest as his voice echoed in your head, repeating the word over and over.

Taehyung picked up the glass and took a swig as your shock wore off.

He’s obviously drunk. Drunk people say all sorts of wild things.

But wasn’t there some saying about “in vino veritas?”

I don’t know – who even speaks Latin anymore?

Cursing your general lack of Latin knowledge, you tried to focus on what was happening around you. Jin’s soliloquy finally ended, leaving everyone practically in tears from cracking up. Jimin was on the floor, having laughed so hard he had fallen out of his chair. Again.

Meanwhile, Taehyung had nearly finished his water. “Whoa, slow down there, Tae, I didn’t mean you had to chug it!” You gently pried the glass from his hand and set it on the table. “Sorry, baby,” he hummed, slumping back in his seat again. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and you resisted the urge to brush it away as the pet name slid from his lips for the second time. His hand, no longer clutching his glass, dropped below the table and came to rest on your thigh.

There went your traitorous heart again.

The sound of snickering caught your attention. You looked over the table to see Jimin, once again seated, watching you and Taehyung with a smirk on his face.

He’d definitely heard what Taehyung had called you.

All the while, Taehyung’s fingers were tracing feather-light circles on your leg.

It was very distracting.

“Tae!” You giggled, maybe a little too loudly. “You goof, why do you keep calling me that?” You nervously watched Jimin out of the corner of your eye, hoping he hadn’t seen anything on your face when the term of endearment had slipped from Taehyung’s lips.

Taehyung was the picture of confusion. “Calling you what?” He withdrew his hand from your leg.

“Uh, baby?” you replied, painfully aware that Jimin was observing you both like a hawk.

Taehyung stared at you, still perplexed. He tilted his head. “Are you not my baby?” His husky voice sounded utterly confounded, dark eyes peering at you from underneath his bangs.

Oh, please don’t look at me like that. You felt yourself melting under his gaze, and bit your lip, trying to figure out how to respond.

A loud guffaw rang out from your left, and you jumped, surprised by the sound. You spun in your seat, convinced that it was at your expense, but were relieved to see that it was just Namjoon entertaining the others. A quick sweep of the table to your left showed you that none of them were looking your way. And to your right, Jungkook still sat staring at his phone, his hoodie cloaking most of his face. But Jimin… his eyes were focused on you and Taehyung over his bottle as he sipped his beer.

Ignoring him, you swiveled back to face Taehyung. “Tae, I think you’ve had too much to drink,” you stated, trying to smile normally, like your heart wasn’t racing and your every action wasn’t currently being scrutinized by a certain infamous chair combatant. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying! Better drink some more water.” You grabbed the glass and offered it to him.

He didn’t take it, still gazing blankly at your face. The tiniest pout appeared on his perfectly shaped mouth, his bottom lip puffing out slightly.

How many times had you dreamt about nibbling on that lip?

Good lord, focus!

“So… you’re not?” he asked again quietly, his voice so hushed you could almost pretend you hadn’t heard him.

You didn’t reply, waving the water in front of him, urging him to take it. He finally lowered his gaze to the glass and reached for it languidly. Once his fingers curled around the glass, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You had just reached for your own drink and lifted it to your lips when you heard him murmur, “Do you wanna be?”

You wheezed, the beer in your mouth abruptly flooding into your lungs. A large hand suddenly whacked you on the back – gently but firmly, Namjoon trying his best to help you breathe.

You didn’t have to look at Jimin to know that the mad cackling you heard was coming from him.

“Are you ok, Y/N?” Hoseok called out, his bright red face concerned. You waved your hand, unable to speak as you coughed up the liquid.

“Fine, I’m fine,” you finally sputtered. Namjoon gave you one last comforting pat on the back as you attempted to smile reassuringly at all the alarmed faces.

“I think it’s probably time to go,” Yoongi spoke up, thankfully taking the spotlight off you. He pointed at Jungkook. “Jungkook’s already asleep.”

Leaning over the table, you closely examined Jungkook’s face, still shrouded in his hoodie, and realized that he wasn’t texting anyone but was instead sleeping peacefully, his hand somehow still clutching his phone.

Jimin sighed. “Yah, some people just can’t hold their booze.” He glanced at Taehyung, then locked eyes with you, giving you another smirk before you tore your gaze away. “I’ll take care of getting Jungkook back to the house.”

Everyone else began slowly getting up. You regarded Taehyung carefully, knowing that he was still drunk enough that he was going to need help getting home. But that was apparently clear to everyone else as well.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll help Taehyung get back,” Namjoon informed the group.

You turned to Taehyung and peeled the empty glass of water from his hand. “Hey Tae, I’m gonna go now. Joonie’s gonna help you walk home, ok?”

Taehyung tilted his head towards you and nodded. “Ok, ba- Y/N,” he stuttered, his wavy hair bouncing as his bobbed his head. “Good night.” He gave you a sweet smile, and you tried not to swoon in case other eyes were upon you. With a small smile, you murmured goodbye as you rose and headed for the door.

It was tradition after a Saturday night of drinking with the guys to spend Sunday morning eating a delicious, often greasy breakfast together in order to avoid the dreaded hangover. This week was your turn to provide breakfast, and that meant a trip to your favorite bagel shop for sandwiches. Around mid-morning, you awoke and stretched, thinking happily about the bacon and fried egg sandwich you would be devouring shortly… and then you heard Taehyung’s deep voice ringing in your ears.

“Baby.”

You sat up quickly as memories of the previous evening ran through your head. You could vividly recall the pout on Taehyung’s lips when he’d wondered if you were his… his what? What did he even mean, calling me that? Does he ever remember what he said?

Does he remember asking if I wanted to be his?

With a groan, you swung yourself out of bed. By the time you’d showered, dressed, and walked to the shop, you’d already decided that you weren’t going to drive yourself crazy with such questions. Taehyung had been drunk, and that was that. He probably didn’t remember anything. You guys would eat breakfast, play a round or two of Mario Kart like it was any other Sunday, and things would be completely normal. And you could go on nursing your crush with no one being any the wiser.

You were very good at convincing yourself, sometimes.

You knocked on the guys’ door not much later, hands full with several bags of breakfast. Jungkook answered, throwing the door open wide. “Food’s here!” he yelled, grabbing the bags from you. He started for the kitchen before you’d even closed the door.

“Good morning, Y/N! Oh, how nice to see you, Y/N! Hey, thanks for breakfast, Y/N!” you sighed dramatically as you followed him.

Jungkook set the bags on the kitchen island before whirling around and pulling you into a hug. Surprised, you laughed loudly as he lifted you into the air and spun you a few times before releasing you. “You’re the best, Y/N.” He flashed you a cute bunny smile before he turned his attention back to the food.

Still giggling, you wandered over to where Jungkook had already brewed a pot of coffee and poured yourself a cup. You took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island as the others began trickling into the kitchen, drawn by Jungkook’s shout. “Morning, Y/N,” Hoseok mumbled, his impressive bedhead making you giggle again. Yoongi shuffled by, his eyes only fully opening once he’d had a sip of coffee.

“Rough morning, guys?” you teased, propping your elbow on the island and resting your chin in your hand. Namjoon wandered into the kitchen and joined you on a stool, followed by Jin, who grunted what you assumed was meant to be a greeting. More mugs of coffee were distributed until everyone seemed awake, if not alert.

“Y/N, how are you so chipper this early?” Jin asked as he sorted through the sandwiches.

“First of all, it’s almost noon, Jin,” you retorted, laughing as he grunted again. “Secondly, unlike some people, I didn’t drink my body weight in booze last night, so I feel fine.” Namjoon, sipping his coffee next to you, snorted into his mug.

“Are those the only reasons you’re so happy this morning?” a voice inquired from behind you. Jimin.

Oh crap. You suddenly remembered the way Jimin had been watching you and Taehyung last night, scrutinizing your every move. You swiveled your stool to face him as he leaned in the doorway. One look at his face now and you knew.

He knows.

He wouldn’t say anything in front of the others… would he?

Time for evasive maneuvers.

“Of course not,” you drawled, looking at the blonde. He lifted an eyebrow in response. You flashed him a smile, hoping it looked more confident than you felt. “I’m also happy because… I get to see all your sweet faces again!” Reaching out, you pinched Namjoon’s cheeks, causing the tall man’s dimples to appear as he smiled bashfully. “How could I feel anything less than blessed about that, Jiminie?” You blew them all big, theatrical air kisses, chuckling as Jin pretended to catch his and blew you one back.

Jimin rolled his eyes at your goofy answer, but thankfully didn’t say anything else. You huffed out a sigh of relief.

Standing on the other side of the island, Yoongi squinted at you suspiciously. “You say you didn’t drink much last night, Y/N, but… are you sure you’re not drunk now?”

After much reassurance that you were, in fact, completely sober, the guys shambled into their living room to eat their breakfast. Needing a minute to collect yourself, you remained in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, so did Jimin.

“You know that’s not what I was referring to, right?” he asked from his spot in the entryway, arms crossed over his chest.

Well, at least he’s not going to drag this out.

You assessed the blonde man carefully. Of all the guys, Jimin was the closest to Taehyung. They were practically in their own world sometimes. As far as you knew, they didn’t have any secrets from each other.

Which meant that your secret was in danger.

You opened your mouth, intending to beg Jimin to keep quiet, but he cut you off. “Y/N,” he began, stepping closer until he stopped directly in front of you. “You know that I love Taehyung, and that I’d never do anything to hurt him, right?”

You nodded.

“Then you know that I’d never betray his confidence.” You nodded again. None of this was news to you.

Where are you going with this, Jimin?

Jimin inclined his head slightly, looking straight into your eyes. “But if it was for his good… if it would help him, then maybe it would be ok to let something slip. Or to hint at something. Especially if someone else figured it out first. You know?”

Oh no. You stared at Jimin, trying to comprehend. Did he mean that he was going to tell Taehyung that he knew you liked him? Hint at it or maybe even just spell it right out?

But what did he mean by someone else figuring it out?

Something was bubbling in your chest. You needed him to get to his point now or you were going to explode.

After a few minutes of silence between you, Jimin sighed. “I don’t think I’m explaining myself right… let me start over.” He ran his hands through his hair, then jumped up on the stool next to you. “Taehyung and I – “ “Please don’t tell him that I love him!” The words burst from your lips before you could stop them. You clapped your hands over your mouth, horrified.

Well, shit.

Jimin broke off, mouth hanging open mid-word, shocked by your outburst. He sat there gawking at you for what felt like hours to your panicked mind but was likely only mere seconds.

Then he started to laugh. Hard.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you yelped, anger overriding your embarrassment. You waved your hands at him. “I can’t help the way I feel! Just because it’s hopeless doesn’t give you the right to mock m– “

Jimin slid off his stool and grabbed your hands, stilling your movements. You blinked at him as he shook his head. “No, no, Y/N, I’m not mocking you!” He smiled, still chuckling. “Please believe me. I just didn’t realize… oh, this is ridiculously perfect!” He shook his head again.

“Jimin, look, I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” you began, “but - “

“He’s in love with you, Y/N.”

What?

“He’s – Taehyung – he’s – what?” you floundered as Jimin released your hands with a soft smile.

“That’s what I was trying to get at, without just straight up telling you his secret. I mean, last night at the bar, I kinda thought you’d figured it out?” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “He wasn’t being very stealthy about it.” He glanced at you and laughed. “But I guess you didn’t know, judging by your face right now.”

WHAT?

You were frozen in surprise, mouth hanging open as you tried to comprehend what Jimin was saying. Taehyung? Was in love? With you??

“I mean, he begged me not to tell you. Said he was afraid that you might not feel the same way.” Jimin continued. “But I guess that’s not really a problem, is it? Since you just declared you love him too.”

A roar sounded from the living room. From the sound of it, Mario Kart was already happening, and no one was happy that Jin was winning (except, of course, for Jin). Jimin grabbed one of the remaining sandwiches and headed toward the kitchen door. At the threshold, he stopped and looked back at you. “Someone should probably go wake up Taehyung before his breakfast gets cold.” He paused. “Not me. But someone.” With a smirk, he disappeared into the living room.

Someone should wake Tae. Right. You glanced around the empty kitchen and blinked rapidly.

Oh crap, I’m someone.

Jimin’s departure left you sitting alone, staring unseeing at the last sandwich on the countertop.

Your thoughts were once again a jumble, as countless emotions fought for dominance.

Had you been worried over nothing this whole time? You’d thought for sure that if you told Taehyung how you felt, he’d reject you, and you’d lose your friend. But Jimin had put an end to that fear with one simple sentence.

“He’s in love with you, Y/N.”

Suddenly, you needed to see Taehyung, right away. You sprang up from your seat, grabbing the sandwich. You snagged a bottle of water from the fridge, then bounded down the hall to one of the bathrooms, stopping to rifle through the medicine cabinet quick. Arms laden, you continued up the stairs and came to a stop outside Taehyung’s room.

His door was still closed. Leaning close, you pressed your ear to the door. Silence. Probably still sleeping. You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should let him sleep. Maybe. But if you waited, there was a good chance you’d lose your nerve, so you squared your shoulders and knocked gently.

“Mmmph,” came a grunted reply.

“Tae?” you called softly, opening the door a crack. The room was dark. “You awake?”

Rustling. “No.” The answer came from a lump of blankets on his bed.

“I brought you a sandwich,” you singsonged, waving the food in the air, trying to waft the scent his way.

More rustling. A hand extended from the pile, palm up.

Rolling your eyes, you crept closer to his bed and lightly placed the sandwich in his hand. The hand withdrew, and you heard the sandwich being unwrapped. After a minute, the blankets shifted and a head appeared, chewing.

Taehyung’s bedhead was an incredible sight. His curls looked like a dark, fluffy cloud bouncing above his head as he ate. His eyes were barely open, and you knew he was definitely feeling the previous night’s libations.

“I brought you this, too,” you said, setting the water and some aspirin on his nightstand. He grabbed both eagerly.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured, his deep voice thick with sleep. He fully emerged from his blanket cocoon, his tight white t-shirt rumpled as he slid over and patted the space next to him on the bed.

You sat and took a deep breath, trying to keep your heart from racing. “How’re you feeling?”

Taehyung groaned. “You remember that time we got drunk at your Fourth of July party and ended up sleeping under the picnic table?”

Do I remember? Of course, you remembered. That had been a particularly rowdy evening, hanging out in your backyard, involving several intense rounds of beer pong and a kicked keg. It had ended with you watching the fireworks from underneath your picnic table, wrapped in Taehyung’s arms. You’d both passed out under there, and while you’d been thrilled to wake up by his side, the stiffness from sleeping on the hard ground coupled with the hangover had left you feeling like death warmed over.

You winced. “Oof, that bad?”

He nodded. “That bad.” He balled up the empty sandwich wrapper and tossed it away, then drank the remainder of his water. “But I’m starting to feel better already, thanks to you.” He smiled, eyes scrunching shut happily.

Your heart did a flip.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you replied honestly. “So… about last night…” You fiddled with the end of his blanket, suddenly feeling nervous. “What do you remember, exactly?”

Taehyung cocked his head at you. “Uh, I remember drinking. Then there was more drinking. Oh, and I think there was also some drinking.” He frowned slightly. “Why, did something happen?”

“Oh, no, nothing happened, really.” You looked down at your hands as they twisted the blanket into knots. “But… do you remember saying anything? To me?”

When you looked up, Taehyung was staring at you. “No… did I… what did I say?” He looked worried. “I can’t recall anything I said.”

“Oh.” You took a deep breath. “So… you don’t remember calling me ‘baby’?” you asked, your tone light and innocent. “Or asking me if I was your baby? Or,” you leaned closer to him, dropping your voice a little, “asking me if I wanted to be your baby?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “I – what?!” One hand flew up to grab his hair, pulling at it as he gawked at you. “I said what?!”

You stifled a laugh at his expression. He seemed completely surprised to learn that he’d practically confessed his love to you last night.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, releasing his hair and holding his hands in front of him as if begging forgiveness. “I don’t… I don’t remember saying that. If I made you uncomfortable or upset you… fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t kn-“

“Ah, well, I’m sorry to hear that you don’t remember,” you interrupted his pleading. His eyes shot to yours in confusion.

“You’re… sorry?” he repeated, blinking slowly.

Nodding, you slid closer. You were sitting face-to-face, only a few inches between you. Looking up into his handsome face, you locked eyes. “Yeah. Because… I liked the thought of being your baby.” You bit your lip. “Was kinda hoping you’d call me that again.”

Something dark glimmered in Taehyung’s eyes as you stared into them. One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, as if asking a question, and you silently responded by tilting your head up.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him, and dropped his mouth to yours.

He kissed you softly, his lips moving gently. You looped your arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, pressing his perfect mouth more firmly against yours. Then he sat back, both of you breathing heavily, and gave you a wicked smile that made you shudder in his arms.

“Ok, baby,” he crooned, the word dripping from his lips thick and sweet as honey as he pulled you in for another kiss.

© 2021-22-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

#taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x you #bts x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #my writing #fic: baby #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung fluff #ficscafe

[flower-demise]

⋆⁺ 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯| 𝖐𝖙𝖍 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

They say that when you are looking at the stars, you’re actually looking into the past. Many of the stars we see at night have already faded away.

And yet I found you

A bts au inspired by hotarubi no Mori e, howl's moving castle and stories without a linear concept of time

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚⁺˚

✦𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 : 𝔗𝔞𝔢𝔥𝔶𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯, 𝔜𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

✦𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊 : 𝔉𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔲 ,𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱, 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱/𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

✦𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢, 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔲𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔡/𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰.

✦𝕬/𝖓: 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔞 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔶/𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 | 𝖈𝖍.1 | 𝖈𝖍.2 | 𝖈𝖍.3 | 𝖈𝖍.4 | 𝖈𝖍.5 | 𝖈𝖍.6| 𝖆𝖔3

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚⁺˚

Chapter 1: In the heart of the labyrinth, he waits..

‘I had the same dream last night’ you exclaimed with a pout on your face as your grandma prepared the tea to start of the day.

It was almost autumn now and the chill in the air sparked an excitement deep within you, soon you’d be able to see all the orange leaves decorating the trees. But even that didn’t lift your moods today. It didn’t help the fact that she took her time making it and that her only response was to smile kindly to you and simply say:

‘Again?’ ‘Oh dear please remind me’

‘Grandma!’ you exclaimed betrayed and she laughed at your overreaction. ‘You never listen to me when I tell you’ you fake cried but she simply hummed a quiet lullaby. She was too used to your morning temper, there was a reason she made the tea after all.

‘Here’ she said finally and filled the cup in front of you with a steaming light red liquid as she did with her own. Then she took the seat opposite to you and after taking a long inhale of the fragrance of the tea she said:

‘There now, I’m all ears’

‘Finally’ you mumbled and you mirrored her, taking a sip. Your eyes lit up immediately and she laughed at your reaction.

‘When did you gather the flowers?’ you asked, a new excitement settling in you.  

‘Oh, I went early in the morning, the summer is ending and I thought I’d pick my favorite grandchild’s flowers to make tea before she leaves’

‘I’m your only grandchild’ you mumbled again but felt grateful. This scent and this warmth between your hands was what autumn felt like to you. Another sip and the realization that you didn’t want to leave settled in.  

You were twelve now and you would have to go to a new school in a couple days, the thought only made you want to stay here with her more. Here, in the quietness of her cottage next to the sea and the meadows. Here, with the lullabies and the warm milk and the clear night skies. The world outside of this appeared as a scary place.  

‘Tell me about your dream dear’ she reminded you, maybe even to distract you.

‘Oh right’ another sip ‘I saw that boy again, the one with the mint hair’

‘Oh, your boyfriend’

The look you shot her made her laugh out loud once again.

‘Anyway’ you continued’ it was a sunny day and he was laying on the field. But he was frozen, I called his name a couple of times but he didn’t turn around’

Your grandma’s gaze shifted at that but you didn’t notice.

‘I was very worried only then I noticed how flowers were growing around him, almost covering him like a blanket. It felt..weird’

‘Weird how?’

You looked at her, sipping her tea untroubled.

‘Ah well..the worry left when I saw the flowers and I became sad but also hopeful. I don’t know how to explain it.’

‘It's not an easy thing to do, trying to explain feelings’  

‘But this isn't about that, it's about the boy.’ you emphasized and she watched amused ‘I knew the boy in my dream, I knew I knew him but now I can't remember how’.

She took another sip.

‘You said you called his name’

That surprised you, was she paying attention to you after all?

‘Did I? Ugh I can't even remember that. Why can't I remember?’

‘It's okay dear one.’ she said and you stopped your frantic motions to listen to her.

She smiled at you.

‘It was just a dream’

‘Yeah, I know’ you admitted halfheartedly.

‘But it was a beautiful dream’.

‘It was?’

‘Of course,’ she said.

‘Well, what does it mean?’

She looked at you for a few seconds and then after making up her mind and taking another sip, her eyes fell on the big clock on the wall behind you.

‘Look at that, it's almost noon. I’ll tell you another time, okay? When you are older.’  

‘Grandma’ you complained but the woman offered a pat in your head and started gathering your cups.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚⁺˚

(12 years later...)

‘I saw the weirdest dream last night’ you announced as you were preparing for the bookshop’s opening. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over you, like you had had a conversation like this before.  

There were some new arrivals you needed to stack in the shelves and clear the way of the little open space left. Your antique bookshop was exactly that, little. Taking the corner of a hidden street, it was a traveler's lucky discovery as some blogs have called it. And you would agree, you wouldn’t call this place mainstream at all, you knew well enough that it didn’t have the latest number one bestsellers although some second hand harry potter ones were laying on the fantasy section. It was basically a mixture of hidden gems of all genres, all of them second hand and some old tarot decks and postcards. That was one of the reasons you liked it this much, it felt like your own little magic shop. You cringed at the childish thought.  

And continued on your work.  

‘I was walking in a dark path.’ you explained as you opened the curtains and the morning sun slipped from the window throughout the wooden floor to the vintage paintings covering the walls.  

‘I knew someone was watching me, following me. I knew they were there but I couldn’t turn around, I just kept walking and walking’ you looked at the titles and hard covers of the new arrivals. Your hand instinctively travelled through them.  

'It felt as if I turned around to face whoever it was, I would be hypnotized, unable to leave’. Your gaze flickered on the title of the largest one with a dark red velvet cover and you knew it would be an instant tourist favorite. The title read: ‘The Story of Orpheus’ and you felt a strange tingle inside you. If you recalled correctly the tale spoke of his descend to the underworld to save his lover, you couldn’t pinpoint though how it ended.  

You ignored the feeling and uncovered more books.  

‘And then I heard my name’ the reminder alone made you shiver. 'But it was a beautiful voice that spoke it, I remember it being beautiful, because that’s why I turned around’.  

‘Very climatic I know, and do you know what happened then?’ you turned around to face your listener’s reaction, only to see your cat lick its paw completely ignoring your rumblings.

‘Please don’t be so invested’ you joked and the cat stopped when it realized you were staring at her.  

‘I woke up’ you signed and the ginger furball walked in front you like it was her runaway, her fluffy tail falling under your chin and tickling you. A small smile appeared on your face.  

‘What if they were my soulmate or something, calling out for me?’ you swear the look she just gave you along with her little growl was one of the ‘don't be such a pathetic bitch’ kind. You shallowed your pride.

‘Yeah, you are right’ you admitted defeated ‘Soulmates aren't real..what a childish notion’.  

A familiar sound pulled you out of your little conversation. You instinctively turned towards the door to greet the new costumer that the bell had announced. Only to find the door closed and the ringing still echoing in your ears.  

‘Am I hearing things?’ you questioned out loud and turned to face the cat, only to see her strangely alarmed, her tail straight up and her attention fixed towards the entrance.

‘The old thing must be broken’ you decided. ‘I don’t even know when grandma last replaced it’ you tried to calm your little friend and you went on to check it for yourself when she growled again, halting you.

‘What’s wrong?’ you questioned, slowly retracting and starting to get creeped out.  

That’s when the music faintly reached your ears, a familiar melody like an echo of a distant place, a forgotten dream.  A sad piano playing from deep in the underworld, you were consumed by its sweet sound. Most of all because you had heard it before. Like a plea to someone, an invitation, one you’ve been waiting for all your life, the sunlight blurred in your side vision and your eyelids became heavier and heavier, surrendering to the delicate notes. Now you could almost follow it, the music would lead you to him.  

Then a loud noise of something falling covered everything, the music vanished into whatever realm it came from and you stared in horror at all the books your cat had scattered all over the floor. You stood there for a couple of seconds trying to center yourself, knowing that the little devil had just gotten you out of whatever state you had slipped into.  

The rest of the day passed uneventful, only a couple of teenagers wearing their school uniforms came by to check the shelves and an old man who was particularly interested in an old edition of a book. Unfortunately, you had to inform him you didn’t possess the said edition and he only mumbled a ‘people these days chose eBooks over hard covers from the beginning of the 20th century ' and left without saying a simple thank you.  

Uneventful entirely.

Your mood was getting lower and lower, you knew it was a weekday so not many costumers would come but still, you were well aware that if you wanted to keep the place running you had to start marketing it somehow. Just because it was your grandma’s shop and it held sentimental value, it didn’t mean it could sustain you. It did what it was supposed to though, reminded you of her.

It didn’t lift your mood either as you were closing now, making sure you locked twice, that you were overly on edge the whole day, jumping from the slightest sound and shadow on the walls. You were a scared cat no surprise there, but even you knew that something odd had happened that morning. Something you were eager to wash away with a hot bath.  

You bid you little neighbor farewell for the night, making sure her bowl was full before you took your way home. But the night was beautiful and the air not overly chilly so you took your time exploring the rest of the antique shops that covered your street. You were in a very particular mood, under the full moon, walking the pattern lid streets and spotting all sort of odd objects in the shop windows, you felt like you had entered a fairytale.  

You stopped in front of the old bakery that you used to get those chocolate biscuits you loved when you were a kid and even though it had closed long now, you swore you could smell the fresh baked goods under this moon. You passed a few people covered with their scarves and bennies signaling that winter was almost here taking autumn’s place, and made-up stories about where they were going and who they were.  

Lost in your imagination you didn’t realize you had found yourself on a street you’d never been before. You saw the slate engraved with the words ‘Acheron'. You hadn't even heard of this street. But it was so beautifully lit under the dim lights you were eager to find where it led. You were so excited in fact that you didn’t notice when the music started, it had come naturally like the first snow, fully fitting the environment around you. And so, when you turned on the corner and started walking down a circular staircase you didn’t question it at all.  

Like an enchanted mouse you obeyed the hand who hovered melancholically over the keys of an old piano.  He played them so skillfully, like he had done a hundred times, not missing a single note and you couldn’t help but be moved by him, quite literally.  

The ground from below your feet changed from the stony road to a heavy carpet and when you looked up again you found a long corridor staring back at you. It extended as far as your eyes could sea and when you looked to the ground again you saw green smoke had covered your feet.  

shit

The music became deeper and richer as you kept walking, but the corridor kept extending like it had no end. No end and no beginning. The only thing that changed, was that the smoke had risen higher.  

where were you?

You sensed something behind you shift and you turned towards it. The same endless corridor extending in all its silent glory, only now you knew someone was there. Hidden in the dark.  

‘Who are you?’ you whispered, finally breaking the silence, only to realize the music had long stopped. The only sound now was your own heavy breathing and the beating of your heart, which got quicker and quicker by the second. Everything was beginning settling in and the all the question were bubbling from the back of your mind. Like..

how the hell did you get here? Wherever here even were...

It’s a dream. You decided. This couldn’t be real. You had gotten home long now and you were dreaming, carefully stuck under a million blankets.  

then why were you so aware of a dream?

A sound like wings unfolding had you turn around again. You were trapped like a mouse but between what you didn’t know. Only that it was everywhere, behind you and in front of you, in the walls around you, in every little corner where shadows could reach.  

if this was a dream, then why didn’t you wake up?

A scent of something sweet like night flowers reached your nose and you inhaled it like opium.  

if this were a dream, could you shape it to your will?  

You stopped. Took a deep breath and turn to face the wall. This is a dream you kept repeating as you concentrated on the hard solid material, you touched it gently and imagined a path, a way out. The material obeyed to your will and shifted to thin air, another corridor appearing in front you.  

A laugh echoed. A laugh that made every little hair on your neck stand up.  

‘Look at you, clever little mouse’ the voice was deep and ancient and run down your spine. Your feet shaked at the power it held, like it could move the very earth, or like it came from it.

You kept walking, you had to. You ignored the creature which you sensed to be closer than before, as if to limit its power, its spell on you.

And yet, dread washed over you as soon as you stared at the same path, it was as if you never had strayed from. He was playing with your mind. He must have. No matter where you went, which turn you took, which doorway you opened you ended up in the beginning, with the presence of someone following you closely, like a guardian.

shit, shit, shit

You stopped in your tracks, your breath frantic. No matter where you run, he had the upper hand. It was like he was one with this place. Your pride gave you a newfound strength though, as you didn’t want the creature to enjoy your desperation, your pointless tries. You were scared to the bone, petrified in fact but refused to die hunted. You tried calm yourself, wherever you were..

you found your way in, you’d find your way out  

‘Defeated?’ he purred close to your neck ‘already?’ you could feel a sharp smile at the words that cut your skin like knives.  

‘You mortals are so predictable’. Disappointment and arrogance coated his voice now. And now more than ever you wished to defy his predatory aura.

‘You aren’t real’ you spoke with a newfound strength, as to believe it yourself.

The laugh echoed in the corridor darker than before and you got a glimpse at the smoke that had rose almost to your waist.  

fuck

‘Isn't the anxiety running hot in your blood real little mouse? Or the way my voice brings forth a primordial fear in your belly?’ you felt his breath in the back of your neck. The scent from before filling your senses. His scent.  

‘I’m real. You are not’ you said again, decisive and turned around to see only darkness. A small victory.

‘Such scary words from someone who is afraid to face me’ you teased, pushing your luck, but you didn’t care. You knew you had won over something, over the fear of the unknown, over sharp claws and hearts made of stone. You had stopped running.  

The same sound of wings.

‘Oh’ he said with a chuckle. 'I will enjoy this. I'm here little girl’ his voice was almost lyrical ‘I’m here in the dark, can you see me?’

You stared at the abyss ahead of you and your human eyes could only register something twist in the dark. Your stomach followed shortly.

Through the darkness, surrounded by smoke you saw a beautiful man,  

no..  

A creature with the face of a man with eyes that could read your very soul. Dark wavy hair fell messily above his shoulders, he was so breathtaking that the sight of the black wings hovering behind him didn’t startle you as much.  

‘Now you see me’ he said lower. He rested his head on his palm and gazed at you.

‘Now I see you’ you spoke quieter but you knew he heard you.

‘Yet you aren’t the one who guided me here, the one who played the beautiful music’ your gut feeling could tell you this. The man who observed you had the face of an angel, of a forgotten god, but he hid emptiness behind it, like the abyss itself but the music ..the music didn’t remind you of the dark, it reminded you of sunny days and childhood loves.

‘Clever indeed’. He spoke as you figured it out. ‘I wonder that myself. Which of my dear guests called someone like you to this cold forgotten place?’ he had moved closer to you, eyes not ever leaving yours. And you felt exposed, the hidden darkest part inside you felt exposed to his lingering gaze. You’d never forget his eyes, like two dark oceans, they held the colors of dreams in their depths.  

Here, in a place like this, you met his gaze back and your eyes roamed from his dark attire covered with jewels to the rings of gems adorning his fingers and the silver necklace hanging from his neck. They stayed there and the man felt you had seen past his exterior as he had seen past yours. An equal match, one he never expected.

It wasn’t long before your eyes were closing though and you felt a hand delicately brushing your hair.

the smoke!  

You had forgotten about the smoke and it was too late to care now.

It was strange but your heart had slowed down and before you surrendered to sleep you didn’t feel fear but an odd wonder had begun to settle inside you, birthed out of all you had seen and out of the unworldly man with the black wings who caught you sweetly in his arms when you fell.

{To be continued...}

✦       ･ .           .                 ✦

.                 .            .           .       .             ✦

✦       ･           .                 •      .     •

•    .             .               ✦

✦                 ✦

This chapter’s moodboard.

Ps: I’d love to read your thoughts about the story

#bts x reader #bts #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts fairytale au #bts fantasy au #bts magical au #bts angst #yoongi #taehyung

[willwriteforhugs]

the boy in the bookstore (part one)

in which you meet a suspiciously handsome boy in your favorite bookstore- but are not cultured enough to know his true identity.

ateez scenario 

yeosang x (fem) reader

word count: 1.5k

g: fluff, angst if you’re a sensitive bitch

warnings: none really, light kissing and possible innuendo in later parts

notes:

there are a few things that may turn inconsistent for you personally (aka the POV being american, bilingual, etc. nothing major tho!)

also: if you enjoyed this, i am 100% looking for requests. can be aus, scenarios, or whatever! (atm i can write for atz, skz, bts, and itzy)

happy reading!! 

part one

the morning of november 12th is a dreary one. when you wake up, you have little to no motivation to go to work. it's a downcast, rainy day, and seoul looks as sad as it's probably capable of looking.

work is slow. you work on your current project, but writing today feels like this: you write out a sentence. then you delete it. and then you rewrite the exact same sentence. you do this for eight hours, and by the end of it, the air seems thick with your desire to leave. 

as you leave the building, a few coworkers try to spark conversation. 

“oh, y/n-ssi, you should come have soju with us later, we-”

“hey, y/n! do you want to-”

you don't let any of them finish. today had not been not your day. actually, when was the last time any day had been “your day?” you are exhausted, burnt out. you miss your family, who are busy living halfway across the world. you miss your father, long dead after a tragic accident when you were young. you miss the fleeting friendships of your childhood. you miss what it felt like to have someone greet you as you came home after a long day. you miss being loved.

as you begin your long walk home, a thought occurs to you. when had you last visited the bookshop? it had probably been a while since you’d seen mrs. seon… maybe you should stop by. after all, a trip to the 30 year old bookshop might brighten your mood.

twenty minutes later, you shuffle awkwardly through the front doors of “bookshop”, careful not to get your dripping shoes too close to the new releases. and yes, the store was called “bookshop”. in reality, the store had simply never been named, but everyone who visited it knew it as just the bookshop. you glance around, hoping to find mrs. seon, but she was nowhere in sight. that was alright though… more time to browse. you scrape the last bits of rain off your boots and wander towards the back of the store. this was your favorite part of the whole establishment, and that was saying something. the whole shop was filled to the brim with battered books- centuries old classics, modern literature, old journals of long dead men… and many of the books were not korean, but european or american. this was possibly the most diverse bookstore in seoul. you adore it. but the back of the store was especially amazing. this was where the seon family kept the american classics. authors like john steinbeck and f. scott fitzgerald lined the shelves, their colorful spines making a bold statement about the content within. most were old, beaten up copies, but many of them were in english- something you secretly love. 

letting loose a small smile, you run your fingertips along the book spines. suddenly, you see a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye. you whirl around, swiveling your body to your left. and in front of you, not even six feet away, is a boy. a...a beautiful boy. you feel your breath catch. holy shit, he was gorgeous. pale blond hair frames a sharp, tanned face- the boy has sleek, judging eyes, and higher-than-god-himself cheekbones. for a moment you just stare. you can’t help it. but the boy doesn't look up. you lower your eyes again, shifting your attention back to the books. honestly, you aren't sure why you’d reacted like that. he hadn’t said or done anything. and though he is attractive, you are relatively uninterested. this is a bookstore, after all. this is where people came when they didn’t want to talk to people.

a few minutes pass quietly, and you continue to browse the books. after finally deciding on a collector’s copy of steinbeck’s east of eden, you look up again. and there he is. looking right at you. as soon as your eyes connect with his, though, his shoot back down to the phone in his hand. you blink, wondering if he needs anything. 

another beat passes. he glances up again, and this time, you force him to hold your gaze, shooting him a small smile. you see his eyes widen slightly before you turn on your heel and head towards the front of the store.

by the time you reach the checkout counter, an employee is there to assist you. she smiles and makes small talk while bagging your new treasure, then sends you on your way. no longer thinking about the blond boy, you pull up your hood and leave to head home.

only a few minutes had passed since you’d left the store when it happens. you feel odd, like someone is watching you...at first you think you’re imagining things, but as you turn around, you are face to face with the boy from the bookstore. a small gasp escapes your lips. 

“oh,” is the first thing he says.

you take a step back. "oh-uh," you stumble to find the right words. "hello."

without a word, the boy straightens his stance and reaches towards you. instantly wary, you take another step back. but his arm stops short. resting in his slim hand is a small brown wallet. wait- your wallet. you hesitate, then begin to dig through your shoulder bag. sure enough, the wallet is absent. you look back up into his brown eyes, startled by the intensity of his gaze.

"you- you dropped this." he says quietly.

his voice also startles you. it has a low pitch, but is painfully soft. it reminds you of something, but you don't know what.

"oh, wow. thank you so much," you manage, reaching for the wallet. as you take it, his long fingers brush yours; the lightest touch. his hands are freezing.

"your hands are so cold!" you remark, surprising yourself. talking to strangers in the street. what have you become, y/n?

the young man's pride must have faltered, and his ears turn an endearing pink color.

"it's getting cold out, you really should wear some gloves or something."

he raises his eyebrows. "you aren't wearing any either."

 without missing a beat, you respond: "i run hot."

 a smile plays at his lips. "well then, i guess i'll wear gloves next time."

 up close, you notice he is even more beautiful than you had anticipated. he wears no visible makeup, and he has a big pink birthmark near one of his eyes. it's mesmerizing. by now, you've completely forgotten about your foul mood from earlier.

"by the way," he continues, still speaking quietly. "are you a regular at that shop?"

you pause. "i guess you could say so. i know the owners pretty well, too. mrs. seon is practically my mom here..." you chuckle.

he tilts his head. "what do you mean?"

"oh, it's just that my own family doesn't live here." you pause, and decide you need to elaborate. "i'm american."

his eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. "oh, are you? i wouldn't have known. your korean is amazing."

"well, it is my first language, so i'd hope so." you laugh a little. "but yeah, my family lives in america. i moved here when i was sixteen- i wanted to be an idol." you admit.

this seems to take him by surprise.

you continue without being prompted. "i was a trainee for a few years, but... it just.. it didn't work out. but when it was over, i realized i just couldn't force myself to leave korea. i love it too much."

he nods. "i think i know what you mean."

"so i'm just a student now. turns out i probably should have planned to go to school even if i had debuted... oops."

he nods again, his face remaining neutral and distant.

realizing how much you had just revealed, your body stiffens. "anyways. um, it was nice meeting you-" you pause. he hadn't told you his name.

"yeosang." he said, reading your mind. "my name is yeosang."

"oh. well, it was nice to meet you, yeosang, but i really should be going."

he hesitates, opening his mouth as if to say something. but he closes it and gives a small smile. "okay."

you give a small bow and turn to leave, but he catches you by the arm. "but wait, i want to know your name, too."

you glance back at him, into his eyes, which are shining with hardly hidden curiosity. "y/n." you say.

"y/n," he repeats, as if committing it to memory. "okay, now you can go."

and with that, the two of you parted, going back home to two very different lives.

edit: part two is up now. thank you for reading!!

#ateez imagines #yeosang x you #yeosang x reader #yeosang #ateez #ateez fics #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yeosang scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kang yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #self insert #fanfic #bts #ateez angst #willwriteforhugsfics

[askkook-blog]

Come and ask me stuff!!

#bts #bts ask blog #bts ask #ask #ask blog #au #bookshop au #bookshop #jungkook #ask jungkook #askkook #ask kook #ask bts #idk what to tag this as i am new help me out pls

[bangtan-dreamland]

A Fairy Tale’s End [Prolouge]

Pairing:‌ ‌‌(future) ot7‌ ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌

Word‌ ‌Count:‌‌ ‌4822

Rating:‌ ‌‌pg-13‌ ‌

Warning:‌ reader is mostly just sad, gets hunted by a creature bent on harming her, brief description about fighting

Genre:‌‌ ‌fluff,‌ ‌angst,‌ ‌e2l,‌ ‌fantasy!au,‌ ‌supernatural/fairytale!BTS‌ ‌

Summary: You wanted, for once, to be someone important, someone needed- to be wanted and appreciated, to love and be loved. Well, you should be careful what you wish for.

or

A careless wish made on what might be the worst day of your life sets into motion events that puts you on a journey in another world- literally. You wake up to find that you've become a chosen hero- and now you have to save the world!? Thrust into a dangerous quest with no one but seven princes (re:jerks) as team members, can you survive the quest and go home?

AN:‌ I wouldn’t have been able to post this if not for @shadowsremedy so thank you T^T I seriously kept asking him again and again for help aixnsoxnsoxa nOT TO MENTION @dee-ehn​ who made the banner I’m not over how pretty it is asuidhjasd

This is also a part of @bangtanscenery’s collab, ‘April Showers Bring May Flowers’! Quickly before posting period ends in a few hours, ahahah. I, the fool, am doing a series instead of a oneshot because I have no self-control. Nevertheless, I hope this makes whoever reading smile ^^

masterpost // next chapter

»»————-　♔　————-««

The streets in the city were always dreary at this time of the night, moreso with how the rain seemed to be specially intense tonight.

Splish, splash.

Your footsteps hardly made a sound in the deafening sound of the downpour. Instead, with every step you took, it was the sound of rain puddles splashing that you heard, and the faint squelch in your sneakers as they became even more soaked. The umbrella in your hands barely protected you from the rain, harsh as the winds were- and your clothes were already a lost cause. Only the tips of your hair were wet, yet the wind had caused your hair to be blown into messy knots, and your makeup- well. You had no doubt that were anyone to see you now, all they’d see was a ragged, downtrodden woman who seemed like she had been broken up with.

Not that you had much motivation to correct that, anyway, even if it was far from the truth.

Or that there was anyone to even see you in your current state. The time was well into the evening, most people having gone home already- and the fierce rain only drove the people left outside into either staying home, or going home. There would be no one sane walking around the streets tonight.

Well, except you.

And even then it was hard to mind. The rain was therapeutic in a way- and even when you arrived back at your apartment, what was there to welcome you but silence? What was there to surround yourself in but silence, echoes of birthday greetings faint and even then insincere, reduced to polite, half-hearted greetings that only reinforced the distance you felt. Between your parents, your family, and to the people who, if asked, would call themselves your friends- but were you, really?

Was it really too much to ask for more than a smile, more than a mention on the day you believed you had the right to feel important on?

At least in the rain it was hard to hear your own thoughts. When you stood under the rain, alone in the streets, it was easy to believe that you were alone in the world, that what you felt truly was reality. You were alone.

Still… as a shiver crept up on your body, the coldness of the rain seeping in, you were forced to relent, looking around for a nearby eave to wait out the rain in. That was all you were looking for to stop yourself from getting too sick. No rest for the wicked, after all.

But then your eyes met the sign of a bookstore near you, and you stopped in your tracks.

Magic Shop.

… What kind of name was that, for a bookstore? Curious eyes wandered along the outside display, the glass offering little view as to what was inside, what with the dim light from outside. Still, it was easy to see that the shop was open- and you hesitated to step in. Your dripping clothes would ruin the shop’s interior, you knew- you probably shouldn’t go inside.

Too bad, you faintly thought. It would be a nice break, small it was. The shop had to be new too- you’d never seen it before despite going through this road so many times now.

You wandered closer, feet dragging as quiet as they could be along the road. A meter away from the glass, in contrast to the bitter cold surrounding you before you could feel a soft kind of warmth coming from inside. Still the inside remained hard to see, as though there was a fog covering your eyes.

“A customer?”

You flinched at the sudden voice, turning to the side.

Mellow eyes that took in your current look without a hint of pity or disdain, accompanied by a warm smile that showed no malice, the woman that suddenly appeared by the door looked at you with curiosity.

“… Oh, um, no,” you mumbled, feeling yourself redden under her stare, even though she didn’t seem to be judging you. “Just keeping myself out of the rain, ma'am.”

She tilted her head at you, the picture of a curious cat, before raising an eyebrow. “Well then- you should come inside anyway.”

“I couldn’t,” you rejected her gently, fidgeting with your soaked clothes. “I’m- well, um, I might ruin your floors.”

“Nonsense,” she tutted at you, beckoning you to come over. You followed her order, a little intimidated by the firm look in her eyes. You raised an eyebrow in surprise as she reached behind her to hand over- a huge towel. Wrapping it around you- where did she get that, you wondered, it was too big not for you to have not seen it, so why? She gently but surely tugged you inside. For a moment you hesitated, foot raised mid-air, before you slowly followed her inside.

And while you didn’t want to impose… it was, admittedly, nice to be out of the rain and with a towel around you. It helped that stepping in, it was as if the rain was little more than background noise- the warmth you felt from before surrounding you oh so heavenly, the chill from the rain being banished instantly. So instead you put your mind to your current situation, instantly looking around the bookstore that originally intrigued you- only to stop. As the two of you stepped in, you couldn’t help but pause as you took the interior of the bookstore in. The air in the bookstore was… strange, to put it in simple words.

No, you mulled over the word in your head. Not quite strange.

Old.

Yes, that was the right word. Inside, it felt as if you had taken a step back in time. Dusty bookshelves filled the floor in neat rows, crammed neatly with books of different shapes and sizes. The bookshelves themselves seemed to be specially made as well- carved decorations standing out neatly, intricate and mesmerizing. The walls lined with bookshelves, the sole exception being the counter. Looking down, the floor was spotlessly clean, the shine of wax evident- and, looking up, there was nothing on the ceiling save for the sole, hanging light lamp.

That wasn’t even beginning to describe how the bookstore was to your other senses- the smell of old parchment mixing with what had to be an incense- nothing but the sound of rain outside and the quiet inside, broken occasionally by the drips of rain falling from your wet figure.

But for some reason, it was how the bookstore simply felt that had you enthralled.

It was hard to describe, but there was something in the air, something that you knew was something so rare- so wonderful, so… magical.

Magical. Yes, that was it. The bookstore seemed magical.

You took a step forward, curious to explore. Each bookshelf was filled with books, yes, but… as you examined them, you were surprised to find that not a single one had a title. All of them leather-bound books, yet not a single one with an engraved title, or an author, or anything to tell them apart from each other, save for the fancy decorations you could see on some. The hints of a ribbon here, and there, yet overall each book seemed to be about the same.

You walked around the bookshelves, curious. Did all the books in the bookshop have blank covers?

As your eyes fell upon the bookshelf nearest to the windows, you tilted your head. Familiar titles of the Grimm Brothers and many other classical authors were on each book- you let your fingers trail over them, a sense of wonder in you at how authentic each book seemed to be, as if they were collected at the time of original publication- the first edition, so to say.

Still, then, what about the other books? You walked back to the original bookshelf you had been looking in, more curious than ever now. Still blank.

Weird, you thought. What kind of bookstore did you step in? Fingers fell unto a single book, and you were just about to tug it off the bookshelf, when-

“You are, then, here for a book?”

You halted, eyes wide as you looked to the side- the woman from before smiling at you.

… When did she arrive? More than that, when had she left? Why didn’t you notice both occurrences? The floor was waxed- it should have been impossible to walk without making a sound. Yet both times she so easily did it that you were very much confused.

“That,” you paused, feeling your face redden slightly as you tried to come up with a response, aware of how long it was taking you to answer. You coughed. “Yes, I am. Um, I mean, I’m looking for something new to read.”

A thought appeared in your head. “That said, uh, what kind of books are these? If- if you don’t mind me asking,” you mumbled. “I mean- the other books were fairy tales, weren’t they? B-But, um, these don’t seem to have any indications of what books they are…“

“Why, they’re fairy tales too, of course,” she beamed at you, before sighing. “Although not many people read them anymore. It’s a shame… perhaps things like knights, magic, and fae aren’t that interesting anymore. Instead they have robots and disasters and whatever young people seem to be reading these days.”

“That’s not true!” You burst out, a part of you immediately upset, before your nerves kicked in and you amended your words. “I mean- I’m proof that that isn’t true, right? I… can’t deny that, um, robots, and uh disasters, all that- they’re appealing to a lot because it’s easier to relate with them. Considering our society now,” you relented.

“B-But,“ you hastily continued. "That doesn’t mean people have abandoned fairy tales. And, um, I think everyone could do with a reminder of old stories now and then, don’t you? Tales about simpler, purer things.”

“Like curses and magic?”

You flushed, pouting. “W-Well, at least they’re easier to understand than human feelings. I mean, I don’t think anyone can tell exactly what they’re feeling at any moment, even if they spend a lifetime studying themselves, right? So, I mean- in comparison, I’d prefer word games and riddles. At least they can be logical,” you fiddled with the hems of your shirt as your rant began to die down. “In a way.”

“… Yes, yes, that’s true.” You glanced at her, unsure if she was simply saying them or if she meant it- but the sudden glee in her voice was not hard to miss, and you rethought your words, unsure if her glee was good or bad for you.

While you fidgeted in place, she began to speak again. “You seem to be familiar with the books by the window?”

“Um- yes,“ you admitted. “I’ve read many of them, or, uh, at least a version of them.”

You shyly added. “Fairy tales are one of my favorites, though I guess that was, um, easy to see from earlier. Honestly… it’s up to the point that I often wish the world was a bit more like fairytale. Or that I lived in one. That would be much more preferable to my life right now.”

The last part of your words was said wryly.

She gave no outward reaction to your words- yet when you looked at her, you were surprised to see her look at you in awe, as if she’d found a rare treasure. Then there was the determined tone in her voice that made you nervous, for some reason. “Yes… this world just isn’t quite right, isn’t it? If you’re looking for a new fairytale to read… yes, if it’s you, I think you’ll appreciate this one just fine... if it’s you, you’ll succeed- you’ll finish the story properly.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as she suddenly left. “What do you-!”

And then came back seconds later, a book clutched in her hand. “For you,“ she told you with a satisfied look on her face- you warily accepted the book.

Looking down, it seemed to be the same as all the other books in the shelves- leather-bound with a glossy finish, the cover blank save for a light engraving on the side that resembled- flowers?

You barely resisted the urge to bring the book closer to your face, feeling the smooth texture and the smell of old parchment. Just what exactly had you been given? “It’s…”

“A book about a fairy tale,” she finished for you, the smile remaining on her face.

“There’s no- um, there’s no title on the cover,“ you pointed out, feeling a little bewildered at the sudden turn of events. Was this something that she did often? Did you even do something to warrant the book? If the cover was blank… “How old is this book?

It seemed, though, that you wouldn’t be getting any answer to your question- her vague answer only gave you more questions. "There’s no title on the cover because it’s the only one out there of its kind, of course,” she chided you as if you should have known better, but all you could do was look at her in apparent confusion. “And as for how old it is, just know that it’s older than you can imagine.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “W-Wait, just one? What does that mean?”

“It’s a special kind of fairy tale,” she said slowly, an impatient frown on her face- you bit back the frustration building inside you at her sudden switch of moods. “It’s one of a kind. Magical- you’ll be so immersed in the story, you might even forget about this world. Really, you won’t find any book like this out there!”

At her insistent stare, you reluctantly held the book under your jacket, careful not to let it get wet or damaged. “Okay…”

A glance at the windows revealed that the rain had stopped long ago- really, you should have been in bed by now. You had to admit you were nervous. For once since stepping in, you were all too aware again at the oddness of your situation. You clutched your clothes tighter- dry. A step back- you glanced at the woman who seemed content to see you go.

It was only when you were a step out of the door that she spoke to you again.

“Wait! Don’t open it until you’re about to sleep, or you won’t be able to experience the story properly,“ she firmly instructed you, her voice making you wince.

“O-Okay…” You paused, awaiting for any signal from her that she was going to continue talking, before you resumed. “Um, I should be going now.”

“Alright,” she beamed at you- the whiplash making you even more uneasy. “I hope you enjoy that book!”

It was only when you arrived back at your apartment that you realized the towel had disappeared, and your clothes were dry- your hair neat, make up removed- as if you had never even stepped out in the rain. All that remained that assured you the bookstore was real was the blank package you held in your arms.

»»————-　♔　————-««

“One of a kind, huh…”

That night, as you laid in bed you found yourself examining the book given to you by the bookshop owner- still mystified by the whole thing. You let your fingers trail along the sides of the book. A part of you was admittedly curious about the book, so held in high view by the shopkeeper.

But.

“Blank,” you murmured, looking down at the pages below when you opened it. Not a single drop of ink anywhere, nor the pressure of a pen or any machinery. The pages themselves were barely yellow, yet all the same there was the faint smell coming off from it that indicated it was antique. You flipped through the ages, confused. However the remaining pages proved to be like the first- and until the very end, the pages were all empty.

“Figures,” you exhaled, feeling oddly disappointed as you closed the book. “The one time I hope, and this happens.“

You stopped in surprise as you felt something on the back. What…

Looking down, you felt bemused. Engraved on the back cover were seven… men. No, not entirely human- you traced pointed ears on one of them, and the faint outline of a bow- another had scales and a tail, while the rest…

Well. You paused. Was there any point in figuring that out? It wouldn’t change that the book was blank. Tomorrow you’d return it, you told yourself. No need to keep what was basically a journal, no matter how pretty it was.

For a moment as you set the book down you remembered the shop keeper’s words, and you chuckled to yourself.

“Make a wish…?” You huffed, chuckling afterwards. “Make my own story, hm?”

“I wish…” You started, your voice a whisper as you stared at the book. “I wish, for once, that I’m able to be someone important… needed. To experience loving someone and being loved for real…”

“For once I want to feel what it’s like to be like a main character in a story…”

»»————-　♔　————-««

Loud.

When you woke up, it was to the sound of birds chirping ringing in your ear. Which, you faintly thought as you stirred into consciousness, was actually kind of ringing in your head. And annoying. Why would people think it nice to wake up to the sound of nature? Everything- everything was just so loud. Even the grass you were laying on wasn’t in any way comparable to your bed.

Wait.

Why were you laying on grass…?

You opened one eye and hissed. Too fucking bright. Bringing up a hand to intercept the light, you allowed yourself a few moments to adjust to your surroundings.

You fell asleep on your bed. You had, hadn’t you? But- your eyes were squinted even as you slowly opened them- you weren’t in your apartment anymore. Nor were you anywhere near your city- you would have remembered seeing these-

You paused, taking in the appearance of the strange trees. You’d never seen it before in your life, which, what the hell? Where the hell were you then?

You… should have been feeling panicked. You should have, shouldn’t you? Here you were in an absolutely unknown and strange place. Anyone would panic.

But your head felt stuffed instead, as though there was a fog inside and you were straining to see through it.

You shakily got up on your knees, noting distantly that you were still dressed in what you’d originally slept in- a a huge t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Your slippers were also on your feet- that was good, right? Not the fact that you weren’t dressed for the outdoors, but the fact that you hadn’t been changed out of your clothes by- whoever had brought you where the hell you were.

Your legs were unsteady as you walked over to a nearby pond. When you looked over- you felt a steady sort of relief as you realized it was still you in all your… glory-ish. Nothing had changed, or was changed about you. But that didn’t answer the question- where the hell were you, and how had you gotten here? Nothing was out of place with you, and you couldn’t remember anything…

You turned around and nearly fell back into the water as you met the eyes of- something.

Something, because your mind had to have been playing tricks on you. There was no way you were seeing a small- human. Ish? Human-ish? With a pair of- what kind of wings were those? They couldn’t have been butterfly wings, and they were too little for any other type. Actually, the initial thought probably should have been why there were little wings attached to tiny humans. Wait. But they had pointed ears. They couldn’t have been human, could they?

“Wha…”

You couldn’t help just staring at it, confused. Thankfully enough though, the small creature also seemed to be quite confused as well, looking back at you with a tilted gaze. You hesitated, then slowly stepped back- and then you let out a cry of pain.

What seemed to be adorable as much as confusing it was before turned to now be a fucking menace and a terror in one as, with a raise of its arms, the soft grass from before shot up and pulled you harshly to the ground. You let out a wheeze as one of the grass vines wrapped itself around your waist, another around your arms- its hold on you firm, then squeezing tighter and tighter.

No no no no no, you had to get up- you could feel the rocks digging into your back, a light, malicious giggling coming off from the creature from before, and, more than a feeling, knew that if you didn’t do anything then, you were dead. You weren’t- you weren’t dreaming, a part of you knew that from the start, but this only reinforced it- you would actually die.

Fuck this shit, you thought, and with a fierce, concentrated kick with your legs, you hastily pulled yourself from the grass ropes, your heart beating in your chest as you frantically began running away from whatever you encountered. You didn’t know which direction you were running off to, and you didn’t care- your main priority being to set distance between the two of you. It proved to be right, as you could hear the slither of grass as it furiously nipped at your heels, trying to cage you in- shrieks and maniacal giggles echoing behind you.

What the fuck, you chanted in your head. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

You almost screamed as you tripped, although you were able to recover your bearings just as quick. The world around you seemed to blur, the only action your body had to run, when you saw- him. A young man sitting on a horse, riding towards you. A part of you noticed his strange clothes- the way his hair framed his face in locks that made him more handsome than anyone you’d ever known, the plump lips and angled nose- but the main part of you was focused on having someone possible save you. You screamed.

“Help!”

“Grab my hand!” He yelled, the horse immediately stopping in its tracks with a cloud of dust rising behind it. You didn’t hesitate, taking his offered hand. It only took a second for you to be smoothly swung onto the horse’s back, and with a sharp move of his legs the horse turned around, galloping fast away.

But not fast enough. You stared in horror and fear as the grass seemed to move even faster, as though the creature was a snake instead of whatever it had been. Even the trees seemed to come alive, branches shaking slightly in a deliberate manner. You turned around to warn your companion, when he muttered something that barely registered in your ears.

“Of all the places to appear…”

“I think it’s still following us!” You cried out, letting out a sharp squeak as you ducked, one blade of grass almost wrapping itself around your neck.

Your companion let out a sharp scoff. “Well, what do you expect, you’re a practically a chasm of magic.”

Your eyes widened. “Magic? What do you- ah!” You screamed again as you faced another near miss. As the horse jumped over a tree root, you instinctively held on to him, your fingers finding purchase in his shirt before you turned to face him with a bewildered gaze. “What do you mean by that, magic isn’t- your ears!?”

You gaped at the pointed cartilages, unsure what to say. The disbelief in your companion’s voice however, was palpable. “Did you just realize you were talking to an elf?”

“You’re an elf!?”

“Of course I am!” He hissed out, before groaning. “I can’t believe it- the only hope we have, and she turns out to be useless.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m useless, as much as I don’t fucking know what’s going on,“ you shot back, annoyed and frustrated. “Well, not much other than that we’re getting chased by fucking murderous fairies.”

“Pixies.”

“What?”

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the irritation thick in his voice. “Look at their color and size- that’s a fae born from corrupted magic. Meaning, it’s a pixie, not a fairy.”

This time it was your turn to be in disbelief. “Oh god, you’re actually serious.”

“If anything, you’re the one being utterly ridiculous right now,” he muttered, before sharply yelling, “Duck!”

You reflexively obeyed, narrowly avoiding a- was that a tree branch!?

“Isn’t there anything you can do to stop them!?” You screamed, even more terrified now than before.

However this time it seemed that your companion was focused on your escape, or rather to ignore you- you weren’t sure. You shivered, your hold on his shirt tightening even more as a sharp wave of faint panic rose up in you.

“Oh god, I’m going to die and it’s going to be by pixies, of all things, in a dream I don’t even know about,“ you whimpered.

You squeaked as you felt a change in your surroundings- looking around in surprise as you realized the grassy plains were making way for dirt roads and stone pavements. When you looked to the side, you were no more terrified than to see people milling around, faces set into fear or confusion.

“We’re approaching the city!?”

The horse stopped quite smoothly, despite the tremble in its body- you almost fell off as your companion descended, though he pulled you off and behind him afterwards.

You trembled. What else were you supposed to do? You didn’t even- nothing had been making sense for you since you woke up. A part of you wanted to ask him what the hell he was thinking, stopping, when the- pixie arrived.

“There’s nowhere to run- oh god,” you choked out, freezing as you heard it’s giggling.

“I don’t think a god will help us now,“ he muttered, plump lips twisting into a scowl. “Stay there if you want to live.”

The giggling grew louder- you flinched as you felt something manifest in the air, before you noticed them- long, tendrils of vine from the forest, creeping up into shapes behind the pixie. You stared at it in horror- only to gape as your companion pulled out the bow he was carrying, drawing it back and shooting arrows- some at the vines, but mostly for the pixie it seemed.

A vine coming for you overhead quickly found itself pierced apart, and the others dealt with in a similar manner- even as you stood there, initially frozen in fear, you eventually began to look around, hoping for a solution to stop the- the pixie.

But, the thought trailed in your mind. What were you supposed to do? You didn’t even know a single thing waking up here- you still didn’t understand what was going on.

But then you heard the heavy thump of something getting hit- and the accompanying cry of pain from him, even if it was quickly muffled-

You looked back at him, noticing the vines slowly overpowering him as he became slower and more sluggish, one in particular aiming for his unprotected back-

You ran forward without thinking. He’s going to die, you thought- you had to do something.

“Stop!” You cried out, desperate- please, you thought. Anything, just to stop it. As your hand touched- something, something that you couldn’t figure out, just something, you felt it. Something hot and heavy, something tainted and dark flowing into your hands, before a fierce warmth came from you, overpowering it, and you opened your eyes-

A flash of light- an overwhelming, searing light- covered you, blocking all other senses and leaving you feeling as though you were floating on air- and then, silence.

When you opened your eyes, it was to the shocked expressions of not only the populace, but the minute widening of your companion’s eyes. You froze, confused and dazed.

What had just happened…?

“You…”

When you glanced down, you saw a crater leading away on the ground- and at the end of it, the faint shimmer of wings, though not badly mangled. The pixie. Too little to fully see, but a part of you just knew they would not be getting up again, for a long time at least.

… Had you… done that…?

When you slowly looked around once more, it was to the chatter, the excited voices, the rising fervent pitch of the crowd. Faintly you felt your hands touch your heart- beating loud and fast, almost too much- everything was too much-

“The Savior has arrived! Praise be the gods!”

The cheering broke out- and your consciousness fell away.

#bangtanscenery #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritersnet #bangtanscenerycollab #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fic

[koolibrary]

Chapters: 14/14 Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin Characters: Park Jimin (BTS), Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Protective Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jimin Is a Sweetheart, but he's also Struggling to find himself, Police Officer Jeon Jungkook, Police Officer Kim Seokjin | Jin, Dance Instructor Park Jimin, he also works in a bookshop, everybody has their own lives but they all end up connecting, Private Investigator Min Yoongi, Private Investigator Kim Taehyung, University Student Kim Namjoon | RM, Park Jimin Is Bad at Feelings, Jimin has a stalker, Violence, Romance, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Platonic Relationships, Mild Angst, Fluff, Dance Instructor Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, morally ambiguous min yoongi, morally ambiguous kim taehyung, Stalking, Murder, Red String of Fate, Character Development, aka jimin is a sad bean but learns how to love and be loved, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death Summary:

Jimin is a Satellite, a person born without any soulmates.

In a world that revolves around soulmates, romantic and platonic, a Satellite is the worst possible thing a person could be.

When Jimin moves to Seoul and gains himself a stalker, his life is suddenly full of murder and terror. As paths intertwine and fates tangle, six boys end up saving him -- in more ways than one.

Δ

Or, a soulmate!AU with a twist.

#yoonmin #yoonmin fic #yoonmin fic rec #soulmate au #taekook #side taekook #side namjin

[juleswolverton-hyde]

GOT7 Masterlist

BTS Masterlist

Stray Kids Masterlist

One-shots:

Lady Byron (Stepbrother!/Bunny Hybrid!Mark Tuan x stepsister!Reader | one-shot, Smut, Angst, PwP, Hybrid AU)

One-shots:

The Diary of a Modern Witch (Werewolf!JB x Witch!Reader x Werewolf!Jackson | PwP, Quarantine fiction, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU)

Drunk on You (Jaebeom x Reader | Smut, Romance, PwP, Angst, Tragedy, Drama)

Series:

Not by the Moon (Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader | series, Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU)

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08

One-shots:

The Diary of a Modern Witch (Werewolf!JB x Witch!Reader x Werewolf!Jackson | one-shot, PwP, Quarantine fiction, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU)

-

One-shots:

Lost Lives (Writer!Youngjae x Reader | Parent AU, Angst)

-

-

#GOT7 #GOT7 smut #GOT7 x Reader #GOT7 fanfiction #GOT7 Masterlist #Masterlist

[tales-of-bangtan-the-bard]

SKZ fic?

So I’ve been wanting to write a Stray Kids supernatural!au fic for a wee while and was wondering if anyone would actually read it? 

Chan, changbin and hyunjin would be vampires living in an old bookshop that have a deal with the butcher shop owner across the street that means they can get blood in an ethical way. One day the butcher shop and the restaurant next to it are bought by new owners who happen to be a pack of werewolves - Woojin, Jisung, Seungmin, and Minho. There is tension between the two families but they strike a truce and bond over the course of the story. Chapter one will introduce jeongin as a newly turned vamp who gets adopted by Chan’s clan, which will cause lots of drama and such, and Felix will be introduced as Minho’s half-wolf, half-fae cousin.

Endgame couples will be WooChan, ChangLix, Hyunmin, and Minsung (will potentially give Jeongin a love interest but I’m quite happy to keep him as an innocent baby). 

may also include fun cameo appearances from BTS as another vamp clan, Dreamcatcher as a neighbouring witch coven, plus more if you guys request it!

I know it’s a very overdone trope and it’ll probably not be great but I thought I might as well try y’know? Anyways, I have an AO3 account which I’ve not used yet so if I get enough positive responses (legit even one or two) from this then I’ll write it. 

much love, C xx

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #lee minho #minho #kim woojin #woojin #seo changbin #changbin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #han jisung #jisung #lee felix #felix #kim seungmin #seungmin #yang jeongin #jeongin #IN #lee know #han #woochan #changlix #hyunmin #minsung #bts #dreamcatcher #jyp

[go-gently-please]

cherry ~ vampire!au (part 3)

~ pairing: human!BTS x vampire!OC

~ genre: vampire!au, smut, angst, sprinkles of fluff

~ summary: life with the seven boys proves to be more complicated than you thought, and you struggle to combat your selfish desires along with their advances.

~ warnings for this chapter: profanity, blood, subby Jimin, fellatio, dirty talk, mentions of BDSM

~ a/n: i’m not super happy with this chapter, but i really hope you like it. please tell me what you think, i would love to see how i could improve :)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (coming soon)

links in masterlist!

You’d decided that it’d be best to take a break from Jimin. It wouldn’t be difficult, considering that there were six other perfectly good men to choose from, but it was clear early on that Jimin wasn’t about to make things easy for you.

You weren’t sure if it was on purpose, but he had started wearing more revealing clothes, ones that accented his collarbones and showed off his muscular arms. The elegant dips of his neck and chest were always fully on display for you.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew something was bothering you. Ever since you ran out of his room, leaving him sitting there looking like a kicked puppy, his mind had been plagued with dark thoughts of doubt and self-deprecation. These thoughts only multiplied when you continued to ignore him.

You’d gone three whole weeks without feeding on him, which was unusual since your sweet tooth made Jimin one of your most popular choices. Out of the seven of them, you fed on Jimin, Hoseok, and Jungkook the most.

Jimin immediately assumed that he was the problem. He must’ve done something wrong, must’ve upset you somehow. Was it his blood? Did it not taste good anymore?

The thought of his blood disgusting you made Jimin’s stomach lurch.

He tried confronting you, but every time he asked you simply brushed it off, claiming that you just “weren’t hungry anymore.”

He knew that was bullshit. Your pupils had been so dilated that your eyes were almost black. You’d looked like a panther ready to pounce.

You felt bad for ignoring him, especially because it was Jimin. He was the most needy for praise out of all of them. That was one of the reasons why you had a soft spot for him.

After feeding, you would always shower him with pets and compliments, telling him how good he tasted, how sweet he was. Jimin’s face would turn that pretty mochi pink, his head ducking away shyly like a turtle in its shell.

You loved the way you could make him crumble. Jimin’s flirtatious nature made him come across as confident, maybe even cocky, but once you praised him, he would melt into a gooey mess of blushing and giggling.

So, naturally, ignoring him was one of the worst things you could ever do. But it had to be done...right?

“Charlie?” A soft, tinkling voice made you look up from the cutting board.

Jimin stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, looking casual and slightly sleepy in a grey cap and sweater. He was barefaced, letting you see the faint spots and freckles on his glowing skin, his eyes free of any makeup.

You wanted to squish his cheeks and tell him to skip class that day to stay here and cuddle with you instead.

“What?” You forced your voice to come out harsh, slicing through the air and creating an immediate, palpable tension. Yoongi, who was sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee, looked between the two of you like he was about to witness a cat fight.

“I was just wondering if you were free later this afternoon?” He sounded so hopeful, speaking in a low tone as if he was afraid you’d snap at him.

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you and the boys to hang out one-on-one. You would often go out for coffee, peruse around a bookshop, or sometimes they would tag along while you ran errands. Nevertheless, the question made you snap your head up to stare at him.

“What?” You said sharply.

Jimin visibly gulped.

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to that new cafe during your lunch break. I know you wanted to check it out.” He said.

You were endearingly surprised that he remembered. Looking back down at your cutting board and continuing to chop spinach, you pretended to sound disinterested.

“I’m probably going to end up skipping lunch today. It’s been really busy at work lately. Maybe next time.” You mentally cringed at how blunt you sounded.

Jimin’s shoulders sagged.

God, I am being such a bitch.

“Okay…” He said sadly, turning to leave you alone.

Yoongi eyed you up and down as you started to arrange the spinach and eggs on a plate.

“Did Jimin do something to you?” He asked.

You glanced at him very briefly.

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because he’s sulking and you’re avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him! I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” You pushed the plate towards him and crossed your arms.

“Can you eat the whole thing for me?” You said, gaze softening with the question.

Yoongi raised an annoyed eyebrow.

“First of all, I hate spinach. Second of all, would you stop pestering me, please.”

“I’m sorry! It’s just...you’re so skinny.” You said as you squeezed one of his bony arms.

You felt like an old witch preparing a child for the boiling pot, fattening them up with sweets and sugary words. Here, little boy. Eat up so you can become nice and tender. Would you like to be served with butter or gravy?

You were just worried about his health! Every time you fed on him there was always the concern that he might faint in the middle of it.

“Trust me, Charlie, I eat plenty.” Yoongi insisted.

“Yeah, but how much of that is pure garbage?” You said. 

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“Why are you so hell-bent on this?” He whined.

“Because I don’t want to have to worry about you collapsing every time I suck you!”

He quirked an eyebrow.

That came out wrong.

“Every time I suck your blood.” You corrected.

The sound of the clock chime broke you out of your thoughts, which may or may not have turned inappropriate at the mention of sucking. You sighed in relief, glad to have an excuse out of this conversation.

“Gotta go.” You grabbed your bag and hurried to the door.

“Finish that!” You called back over your shoulder, pointing at his breakfast.

“I’ll think about it!”

~~~

You weren’t really busy at work. That was a lie. Actually, you kept the place running rather smoothly. You were good at your job, you had to be as the person in charge. As editor in chief of GENIUS magazine, you held the highest position in the editorial department.

Today was a particularly slow day. Your afternoon meeting had been canceled, which opened up the bulk of your schedule. You were absentmindedly wondering what you’d have for lunch when your phone buzzed.

12:54 — Hobi: hey :)

An instant smile crossed your face.

12:55 — You: hi sunshine

The three tiny dots appeared and disappeared several times. You smirked, picturing him blushing at your nickname and fumbling for the right words to say.

12:57 — Hobi: you free for lunch?

12:58 — You: you just read my mind. Where do you wanna go?

12:58 — Hobi: that new cafe that you were talking about?

Wow. How do they all remember these things about you?

12:59 — You: sounds good. Meet you there in fifteen minutes.

You killed time by scanning over some of the articles for the next issue. After glancing at the clock, you gathered up your coat and bag, walking through the glass doors of your office.

“I’m going out to lunch with a colleague. I’ll be back in an hour to talk with the associate publisher.” You announced as you passed Melody’s desk.

“Okay, boss.” She replied.

“You know, you don’t have to call me boss.” You said with a crooked grin.

“I know. I just do it to tease you.”

The corner of your mouth quirked as your eyes ran over her. She was wearing a cute little pencil skirt that accentuated her petite frame. Not that she was super skinny, her build was medium, but she was a tiny person. She had short legs and was barely five feet tall.

Melody was very sweet and gentle, always right by your side, ready to do anything in her power to help you. She had an innocence about her that was almost childlike.

You were very fond of her.

The walk to the cafe was short. It was only five minutes away, that was why you’d been so eager to check it out. Hoseok was already there waiting for you when you arrived. He was sitting at a table by the window, wearing an oversized sweatshirt with his black face mask pulled down to his chin.

At the sound of your heels, he looked up from his phone. His face broke out into that beaming heart-shaped smile, making your lips immediately curl up in return.

“Hi, Noona.” He said cheerfully.

“Hey, Hobi. How's your day going?”

“Good! Even better now that I get to have lunch with my favorite vampire.”

“I'm pretty sure I'm the only vampire you know.”

“Mmm irrelevant.”

The waiter came, and Hobi ordered a sandwich while you ordered a coffee and a slice of strawberry cake.

“Skipping right to dessert, I see.” He said as you picked up your fork, licking your lips.

“Of course. My main course is still eating his lunch.”

A blush flowered on the plump apples of his cheeks. Yet, he still managed to flash you a sly grin.

“I guess I better hurry up then. Wouldn't want to keep my favorite vampire waiting when she so clearly needs me.”

Hobi smirked.

Something about the way he said it, the way he claimed that you “so clearly needed him,” made something in your stomach jump. He was suggesting that you needed something from him? Cocky little bastard.

Hoseok was...interesting. He was a little bundle of energy, that was true, a total ball of sunshine, but he challenged you in a way that none of the other boys did. He wasn’t afraid to poke and prod and push your buttons. It was almost like he was trying to see how much he could get away with, how much authority he could get you to give up.

You saw the way he treated the other boys, too. He was one of the older ones, so he had a natural air of dominance, especially over the maknae line. It wasn’t uncommon to see him ordering them around, jokingly manhandling or threatening them to get them to submit to his little games.

He was definitely different, you thought as you sipped your coffee, leaving behind a stamp of red lipstick on the rim.

“Nom nom nom.” You said around a mouthful of food, closing your eyes in bliss.

Hoseok chuckled, making you divert your attention away from your plate.

“What?” You asked with your cheeks stuffed.

“I can’t get over how you put off a badass vibe when you’re actually goofy and adorable as fuck.” He said in amusement.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse you, I am a badass.” Your voice was sarcastic as you puffed your cheeks out even further, trying to give yourself a cute appearance.

Hobi laughed.

“You’re still a badass, of course. You’re just adorable as fuck while being one.”

Despite your efforts to suppress it, you blushed. When was the last time a boy made me blush?

Looking satisfied by your reaction, Hobi returned his attention to his food.

You bristled, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically small in his presence.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.” You said in a voice that would’ve made Jimin and Jungkook shiver and comply immediately, but only made Hobi smile wider.

“Oh, did I strike a nerve?” He teased you.

You pursed your lips together, trying to fight another rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Your face is heating up. Was it something I said?” Hobi quirked an eyebrow.

Leaning back in your chair, you exhaled as you stared him down.

“You better watch yourself, boy. Do I have to remind you who’s in charge?” You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion.

“Boy?” He said, challenging the title you’d just given him.

“I am hundreds of years older than you.”

“I don’t believe that, you don’t have the personality of a century-old great great great grandmother.” He said with a playful smile.

“Of course I don’t. We adapt to the times. It’s how we stay hidden. Don’t you think it’d be a dead giveaway if I still spoke like a character in a fucking Shakespeare play?”

He scoffed.

“Please, you weren’t alive at the same time as Shakespeare.”

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t.” You said as you nonchalantly sipped your coffee.

“How old are you anyway?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You gasped, putting your hand over your heart in exaggerated shock.

“Villain! I am sick when I do look on thee. Don’t you know to never ask a lady her age?”

Hobi rolled his eyes.

“Thou crusty batch of nature! The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes!”

“Alright, you’re being dramatic.”

“Zounds! You rogue! You rascal!”

“Now you’re just quoting Othello.”

“Away you three inch fool! More of your conversation would infect my brain.”

Hobi sighed deeply, giving up.

“Finish your cake.” He said.

You smiled in victory, popping a strawberry in your mouth.

~~~

You slid another square of chocolate past your lips as your eyes scanned over the outline board. This was your second bar; it sat there on your desk with the gold wrapper peeled back, curling around the edges. You just couldn’t seem to satisfy your craving for something sweet.

Sighing, you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself.

2:42 — You: hey yoongles.

2:44 — Yoongi: afternoon, charles.

2:45 — You: whatcha doin?

2:47 — Yoongi: editing. You? Working hard, I presume.  

2:48 — You: ugh. Trying to. This one copy editor is pissing me off.

2:49 — Yoongi: describe them, exactly.

2:50 — You: bitch. Grade A bitch. You’d hate her.

2:51 — Nice. I love hating people.

You chuckled to yourself. Yoongi always managed to make you feel at ease.

2:53 — You: I made you lunch and left it in the fridge. Did you eat it?

2:55 — Yoongi: it had spinach in it.

2:56 — You: Yoongi!

2:57 — Yoongi: yessss?

2:58 — You: EAT LUNCH.

2:59 — Yoongi: I DID.

3:01 — You: CRACKERS AND ALCOHOL DOESN’T COUNT.

The three dots appeared and disappeared.

3:05 — Yoongi: I don’t like spinach.

3:07 — You: you don’t like anything.

3:08 — Yoongi: I like sleep and you.

A big goofy smile crossed your face. Coming from him, it meant a lot. He even put you in the same category as sleep, which he valued almost more than air.

With a newfound fuzzy feeling in your tummy, you set your phone down and tried to get back to work.

Pacing back and forth in front of the editorial board, tapping a pen on your chin, your analytical mind churned and ticked like a whirring machine on full power.

A soft knock came at your office door.

“Yes?” You called.

Melody shyly stuck her head in.

“Darling, I’m in the middle of being fantastic, can it wait until later?” You said.

“A package came for you.” She said, blushing a bit at your nickname.

You averted your eyes back to the board, waving your hand dismissively.

“Just leave it on my desk.”

You didn’t see as Melody responded with a curt nod, disappearing back into the hall to return a few moments later with her arms full.

Instead of cardboard on wood, you heard the crinkling of wax paper. Puzzled, you turned your head. Instead of a box, a big, beautiful bouquet of bright red tulips sat on the tabletop.

You looked at Melody with confused eyes, but she only smiled knowingly and ducked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Approaching the vibrant bundle, you picked up the card tucked between two of the buds.

Have a nice day, Charlie. Hopefully I was able to make it a bit better.

— Jimin

You read it over three times. Staring unbelievably at the vibrance of the flowers, you stroked the petals, plush and soft against your fingertip. This must be what his lips feel like.

You immediately shook the thought from your head.

He is such a sweetheart! He went through all this trouble for me? And here I’ve been ignoring him for the past three weeks.

A surge of vicious guilt stabbed you in the gut. You cursed at yourself for believing that distancing yourself and turning into a frigid bitch would solve anything. The only thing it did was hurt Jimin and leave you hungry.

Suddenly rigid with determination, you hurried to gather your things.

“Should I block off the rest of your day, then?” Melody asked as you stormed out of your office, your face masked with the purposeful expression she knew so well.

“Yes, please.” You said as you adjusted your jacket. “I’ve gotta get some shit done.”

“Okay, I’ve penciled you in for one day of excess drinking and general ass kick-ery.”

You smiled at her.

“What would I do without you?”

~~~

The front door slammed. A dozen different shopping bags hung from your arms, most of them filled with groceries.

Jungkook was sitting on the couch, controller in his hand, eyes glued to the TV. When he heard you come in, he looked up and smiled, showing his adorable front teeth.

“Hey Charlie.” He greeted.

“Hey bunny.” You set the load on the kitchen counter.

“What's for dinner?” He asked, popping up from his seat to inspect the contents of the bags.

“Beef and veggie stir fry.”

It was Jimin's favorite.

“Jimin's not here, right?” You asked.

You wanted it to be a surprise. After being so mean, you were determined to make it up to him. You’d planned something special, and after he’d had his dinner, you would have yours.

Just the thought of it made you lick your lips.

“No, he's got a class tonight.”

You nodded, excitement bubbling as you set to work chopping vegetables.

Just as you were finishing up, you heard the front door. Jimin came into the apartment, hair damp with sweat, workout clothes rumpled. He dropped his dance bag by the door and inhaled deeply.

“Stir fry?” He called out after identifying the scent.

“Hi Chim!” You said cheerfully as he stepped into the kitchen.

He blinked. You'd barely even acknowledged him in the past few weeks, let alone called him by his nickname, and he was a bit taken aback.

“H-Hi Charlie.” He said as his cheeks flushed. You flashed him a pearly smile, outlined in freshly-applied red lipstick.

“Hungry?” You were in the dining room now, setting the table.

“Ye-Yeah, just let me shower first.”

Once he was gone, you grinned to yourself.

Perfect. You’d snuck up to his bedroom right before he got home and placed one of the shopping bags (a Chanel bag, to be precise) on his bed.

You were just about to set the last bowl on the table after tidying up when you heard footsteps pattering down the stairs.

Jimin was fresh out of the shower, fluffy hair hanging in front of his eyes. He was wearing a soft white sweater; the symbol on his right lapel was two overlapping, back-to-back red C’s. Even with the designer piece of clothing, Jimin’s smile was by far the prettiest thing he was wearing.

You remembered every word of the note you’d written him, you could picture it nestled in the folds of the tissue paper.

Jimin, I’m sorry for being so cold to you lately. It wasn’t your fault. Thank you for the flowers. You always make my day better.

— Charlie ♡

Heart fluttering at the memory, you busied yourself with distributing the silverware. After everyone was seated around the table, you started to pass around the rice.

“So, Charlie, tell us about the eighteenth century.” Hoseok said with a teasing look in your direction.

“Is this your attempt at making dinner-appropriate conversation?” You replied, swirling your tongue over a cherry-flavored lollipop.

Jimin was watching your every move with hawk-like intensity. You were perfectly aware of how he gulped and clenched his jaw every time your lips wrapped around the red orb, and you were deriving a great amount of pleasure from it.

“What were you doing in the eighteenth century?” Namjoon asked, genuinely curious.

“Hell if I know. I spent half of that century in an opium den. And the other half saying “what the fuck is happening?” When you've been alive for as long as I have, the years start to jumble together. Like, one time back in 1904...or was it 1914, wait what year is it now?”

Everyone rolled their eyes and gave up on trying to get any coherent information out of you.

Once everyone was finished eating, everyone but you, obviously, the table was cleared. You were about to load all the plates into the sink when Jin stopped you.

“Don't worry, we got it.” He said with a wide smile.

You glanced into the kitchen to see Namjoon, Taehyung, and Yoongi starting on the dishes.

“Are you sure? I can do them if you—”

“Come on, Charlie. You cook almost every meal. Let us do this for you.” Jin said, putting a warm hand on your shoulder.

The small gesture sent your whole body tingling with heat.

You and Jin got along very well. He was tidy, something you appreciated, and you both valued hard work and organization. You would think that the two of you would get along partly because he was the oldest, but Jin was one of the most childish out of the group, along with Taehyung.

Not to mention he was devastatingly handsome. It was very distracting.

“Alright, thank you.” You said, proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

He nodded, flashing another radiant smile, and patted you on the back.

You turned towards the living room, eyes searching for one specific person.

“Jimin.” You called, causing the boy to snap his head up to look at you.

“Yes?”

You beckoned him towards you with one finger, and led him to the screen doors that opened out to the balcony. He eagerly followed behind you as the two of you stepped outside, night air sweeping past your faces. The light filtering through the windows plus the twinkling stars illuminated the wide space. You walked past the fire pit up to the patio table against the railing.

The building towered over the city, overlooking the skyline, glittering against the sea of lights. The view only added to the value of your top-floor apartment.

“Did you like your gift?” You asked.

He nodded vigorously, smiling so big his eyes turned into two thin crescents.

“Thank you.” He said.

“Don't thank me yet, there's more.”

Coming up behind him, you placed one hand over his face.

“Close your eyes.” You whispered, your mouth right by his ear, close enough to kiss.

You felt his lashes flutter against your palm as he obeyed, smiling to yourself as you felt a shiver run through his body.

Jimin felt the cool touch of metal against his skin. Once you'd permitted him to open his eyes, he saw that you had fastened a silver YSL necklace around his neck.

His mouth fell open. First Chanel, now Saint Laurent?

“Like it?” You asked.

“Y-You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to, Chim. It’ll make up for the way I’ve been acting lately.”

His gaze was locked on you as you stepped closer. You and Jimin were the same height, so your eyes were perfectly level. Even so, your commanding energy often made you seem and feel taller, especially if you were wearing heels.

“Now that you’ve had your dinner,” You began, reaching up to stroke the smooth slope of his neck.

“Can I have mine?”

You were expecting Jimin to blush, to shrink under your piercing stare, but to your surprise, his mouth twisted in a smirk, looking at you through hooded lids. Instead of those big brown puppy eyes you were so used to, he regarded you with a sultry, sexy expression.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to ask me that question.” He said, his voice low and resonant.

You smiled.

“Come here.” You said.

Jimin obeyed. Taking his hand, you pulled him over to one of the patio chairs and pushed him down. You climbed into his lap, straddling him.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stay away from you.” You muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear, staring at the bulging veins in his neck.

“Then why did you?” Jimin asked. You could hear the slight hurt in his voice, making your throat contract with guilt. Your gaze lowered, avoiding his eyes, as you swallowed hard.

“I...I didn’t want you to think this was turning into something it isn’t.”

He stared at you, then looked down with disappointment clouding in his eyes.

You gently held his chin, tilting his head up to look at you. Fingers tracing the line of his jaw, you ran your thumb over his plump bottom lip. His mouth felt just as you predicted, soft as rose petals. You sat there playing with his lips, rubbing, brushing, feather-light, tugging them between your fingers.

There was that blush you were looking for. Jimin’s gaze was focused solely on your face, looking at you like you were the only other thing in the universe.

“If this isn’t what I think it is,” He said. “Then why are you doing that?”

With your breath quickening, you abandoned his mouth to slide your hand down his neck.

“Because I’m selfish.” You muttered.

“No you’re not. You’re the most giving person I know.” He replied immediately.

You just smiled weakly, shaking your head.

“If I was smart, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

But you didn’t stop. You ran your hands over his shoulders, pulling the sweater aside to reveal more skin.

Jimin paused, studying you.

“Who says you always have to be smart about everything?” He said.

That made you look up.

“When was the last time you did something because you wanted to?”

He was looking at you hopefully again, the puppy eyes were back. Jimin had such a sweet face, you wanted to smother it in kisses until he was completely covered with your lipstick.

After a moment of consideration, you made up your mind.

You leaned forward in your position on his lap, hands drifting down to glide over his back. You dragged your long red nails up and down, making him shudder.

“If I did, what would you want me to do to you?” You asked.

Jimin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“I would want you to kiss me.”

You quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that all?”

“Anything more is up to you.”

He was right. Jimin wasn’t going to push you. You were the one who cut him off, if things were to go further it had to be your decision.

Your hands grazed down his spine, arms sinking low to cradle his body closer. Anticipation gripped Jimin’s limbs as he hung onto your every move. Slowly, teasingly, you angled your body over his, and moved to close the gap between your mouths.

He could still taste the lingering sweetness of the lollipop on your tongue.

All the tension corded in his muscles seemed to release as you melted into him, like sugar dissolving in water. He finally moved, as if he’d been waiting for permission, and kissed you back eagerly, gripping your waist and digging your hips into his.

The kiss was sweet, gentle, and hot all at the same time.

The pressure you exerted on him was light, barely enough to keep your lips connected. You wanted to tease him a bit, see how much it took to get him desperate.

Jimin chased your lips with his own, seeking friction, seeking you, but you denied him. Drawing back, you disconnected your mouths with a loud, wet sound that was more melodious in your ears than music.

You ran your tongue along his bottom lip.

Immediately, obediently, he opened up, granting you access. But you just continued to tease.

You traced the outline of his big, beautiful lips, sucking on the upper, taking the lower between your teeth and tugging until eventually letting go and allowing it to snap back into place.

Jimin sat there, motionless except for his heaving chest, eyes closed, with his mouth hanging open as you explored its every nook and cranny. The dip of his cupids bow, the sensitive corners, every swell and seam.

“You taste like fucking candy.” You sighed, brushing the lightest of touches along his jaw, then his cheek, then coming back to his mouth to seal it with a kiss, firmer this time.

This kiss was a mess of heat and desperation, all wet and sloppy.

Jimin’s hands slid up to creep under your shirt, drawing you closer by the small of your back. He was gasping now, fighting for breath while still refusing to break away from you. He moaned against your mouth when you rolled your hips on his growing bulge.

Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging on it like you knew he liked, drawing out more strangled noises of pleasure.

At the sound of a particularly wanton moan, you pulled back, making him whimper at the loss of contact.

“Don’t stop.” He whined, eyes still closed as he leaned forward, trying to find you.

You placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. He finally looked at you, a confused expression on his flushed face.

“Are you sure you want this?” You asked. “Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”

The last thing you wanted to do was to scare him. It was no secret that vampires were natural predators, and that ravenous energy often translated into more...intimate aspects of their life. In all your years, you’d only met a few vampires that took on the role of submissive, and you didn’t consider yourself to be one of them. Of course, you liked to be dominated occasionally, but it took a very special person to be able to handle that position.

Jimin was gazing up at you with those wide, docile eyes. He licked his lips.

“I’m sure. I want this. I want you.”

You smiled.

The panther and the prey. The lion and the lamb.

Something inside you snapped. Snaking your hand between his legs, you palmed him through his jeans.

Jimin tensed, screwing his eyes shut as his head fell back.

“You’re already this hard just from a kiss? Dirty boy…” You teased, rubbing him with more friction.

Jimin bit his lip to try to keep in any noise.

“Is this all for me, hm? You get this worked up just for me?” Your voice was high and lilting.

Jimin could only manage a nod.

You chuckled to yourself, grabbing a handful of him and squeezing lightly.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.” You whispered, looking down at your hand as you continued to play with him.

“T-Touch me,” Jimin breathed out. “Skin to skin.”

You made quick work of his zipper, sliding the waistband down low enough to reveal most of his underwear.

“Can I take these off? I want to see those gorgeous thighs.”

Jimin nodded.

You slid off his lap, dragging his pants down with you until they pooled at his ankles. Settling on your knees, you leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his clothed dick. You ran your hands over his muscular, god-like thighs, and his skin immediately broke out in goosebumps.

“You want my mouth?” You asked.

He nodded frantically.

“Speak up, sweetheart. I want to hear you loud and clear.”

“Yes! Yes, I want your mouth. Please...please, Charlie.” He whimpered. Oh God, just the sound of his desperate voice was making you wet.

You hooked two fingers in the elastic of his underwear and yanked them all the way down. They joined his pants on the floor. Grabbing each knee, you spread his legs wide.

Jimin wasn’t super long, but he was thick, and you licked your lips as you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He let out a hiss of relief.

“I like you begging.” You said, pumping him up and down. “Do it again.”

Jimin sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, jaw clenched. He was panting like a dog on a hot day.

“P-Please...please, Charlie. I’ve waited so long…”

“Have you now?” You purred.

“Ever since we first moved in.”

He was being far more submissive than you expected. Jimin was a tease, you’d known that for a long time, you were expecting a little more brattiness. Maybe he was holding back, giving you what you wanted. He was a sucker for praise, after all.

“You’re being so good for me.” You said, fondling his balls.

The small, shy smile that crossed his face made your heart flutter.

“Are you getting off knowing that anybody could walk by right now? That anybody could see you like this, all spread out and helpless.” You teased his slit to emphasize your point.

A choked groan caught in Jimin’s throat as he threw his head back.

“You’re such a needy boy. It must’ve been torture for you. Sorry I made you wait so long.” You said in an overly sweet voice, jerking him off at a faster pace.

Scooting closer, you leaned forward to lick a slow strip up the underside of his shaft.

Jimin let out a long, breathy “ooohhh.”

You wrapped your lips around his tip and started to suck him like one of your lollipops.

He was squirming now, clenching his fists at his sides, trying to control himself, trying to keep quiet. You were right when you said that anybody could walk by and see you.

Jimin moaned pathetically through pursed lips.

You released him with a pop, only to wet your lips and dive back down, taking his entire length. You bobbed up and down a few times, and then you heard something.

There was movement at the sliding door.

Moving faster than Jimin’s eyes could follow, you yanked his pants back up and shot to your feet.

Jimin blinked, disoriented, as Taehyung opened the sliding door and stuck his head outside.

“Charlie, Jin has challenged you to a game of Mario Kart.” He said.

“I'm a little busy, Tae.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Taehyung just sighed.

“Great, now I owe Jin ten bucks.” He said.

“What?” You replied, interest peaked.

“Well, Jin bet me that you would chicken out, so now I have to—”

“Where is the cocky bastard?” You snapped suddenly, stomping towards the door.

“He's on crack. The headass can't even beat Rainbow Road.” You mumbled.

Taehyung smirked in victory as you slipped past him, even Jimin was laughing at the situation.

Taehyung moved to follow you, but the obvious bulge in Jimin's pants did not go unnoticed by him.

~~~

You came to regret fooling around with Jimin after your head was clear. It must’ve been the guilt of ignoring him, or maybe the fact that you hadn’t been fucked in a while, whatever it was, it wasn’t right.

This realization only filled you with even more guilt. It wasn’t fair to Jimin, your inability to control yourself was only giving him false hope. You needed to come to a decision and stick to it. Either vow to be responsible and only treat him as a friend, or go with your gut and follow your desires.

Of course, you couldn’t make yourself come to a decision right away, so you decided to spend some time alone.

You were lounging in one of the oversized armchairs in your bedroom, fresh out the shower, sipping coffee, when your highly-tuned ears heard the doorbell ring from downstairs. Still in your bathrobe, towel wrapped around your head, you hurried down the stairs.

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it, I’ll get it.” You chanted as you ran towards the front door.

When you re-entered the apartment, your arms were full of pizza boxes. You set them down on the kitchen counter, all of them except one, and then skipped back up the stairs. Now that the boys’ dinner was taken care of, you had the rest of the evening to yourself.

You shed your robe, snuggled into your top-quality silk sheets, and opened your favorite show on your laptop.

You had to order a whole different pizza for yourself because the boys hated your favorite flavor: pesto and white sauce with spinach and mushrooms. Eh, guess you couldn’t blame them.

“Nom nom nom.” You mumbled to yourself as you ate practically half a slice in one bite.

The next few hours were pure bliss, just you, food, a glass of wine, and some mindless TV. You hadn’t done this in a while, since before the boys moved in.

Back when you lived alone, you didn’t have to worry about anyone walking in on you lying naked in bed (you liked the way the expensive silk felt on your bare skin), but now you had to make sure everyone was sufficiently occupied before you tried to go around without any clothes.

You were just about to top off your third glass when a knock came at your door.

“Hang on,” You called, slipping back into your robe.

Taehyung stood there holding a loaded laundry basket. He flashed you a boxy smile.

“Special delivery.” He said.

You chuckled, opening the door wider for him to come in.

“Just set it in the closet.”

He was slightly taken aback. You were very private about your bedroom, and none of the boys had ever seen the inside of it.

You ran a hand through your still-damp hair, turning towards the bed to wipe off the crumbs.

Seeing that you were serious, Taehyung hesitantly took a few steps inside, looking around in awe.

Since it was the master bedroom, it was twice the size of any of the guest rooms. A beautiful king size bed was pushed up against the center of the wall, the frame decorated with swirling gold designs and a mountain of pillows. One wall was entirely dedicated to a large set of shelves, stuffed full of books, leather-bound journals, and what looked like hundreds of vinyl records, all frayed and worn at the edges.

There was a desk crowded with papers and magazines and dirty coffee cups, a heart-shaped ashtray sitting on top of the clutter.

But the thing that immediately stole his attention was the wall unobstructed by any furniture.

It's entire surface was covered in photographs, not a speck of white was visible. Old Polaroids, faded prints, pictures that looked like they were taken decades ago, torn and yellowed with age.

Some of them had you in it, but they were mostly of other people, family members and friends and their children and grandchildren, they were all displayed proudly on your wall.

He saw pictures of weddings and funerals, reunions and holidays. There were a few recurring figures in the photographs, alternating between younger and older versions of the same face, but you always looked the same. No matter how far back the pictures went, you always looked the same.

Taehyung snapped out of it, tearing his gaze away from the hoard of memorabilia to take care of the laundry.

While your back was turned, you didn’t see Taehyung approach the closed door next to the desk, thinking it was the closet. You heard the wood creak, then the sound of the laundry basket hitting the floor.

Turning in confusion, you were about to ask what the matter was, but a gasp of pure horror instantly replaced whatever words you were planning to say.

The door Taehyung had opened wasn’t the closet. Yes, there were shelves and drawers and hooks, but they weren’t for storing clothes.

Taehyung stood there with his eyes blown wide, jaw dropped. He stared at the contents of the small room in pure shock.

Hanging on various hooks on the inside of the door were bundles of different colored rope, varying in texture and material. Underneath that was a rack of nothing but cuffs, leather, metal, fur-lined. There was a large set of drawers, transparent so you could see everything inside, that contained a wide assortment of vibrators, plugs, beads, rings, dildos, and every other toy you could think of. Hanging on the wall behind that was whips, paddles, leashes.

Taehyung could hardly believe his eyes.

Gags, blindfolds, harnesses. Everything he had ever fantasized about was right here.

“I-I...it’s not-I mean, y-you weren’t…” You could barely stutter out the words. You were mortified.

None of them were ever supposed to see that. None of them were ever supposed to know about all your kinky tendencies.

It felt like a nightmare come to life. This would ruin everything. Now every time he looked at you he would remember the mini sex dungeon you had in your bedroom.

Your face felt white hot. The silence rang in your ears. Every muscle in your body was stiff as a board as you waited for Taehyung’s reaction.

His face was unreadable as he reached out to touch one of the collars, the tag hanging from the leather strap detailed with the word Pet in pretty cursive letters.

“Have you used any of these on Jimin?” He asked suddenly.

Your eyes widened.

“I-what?” You watched with anticipation as he ran his fingertip along one of the leashes, a peculiar look in his eyes.

“I saw you with Jimin the other night. Have you used any of this on him yet?” His voice was surprisingly clear and calm.

Your eyes darted back and forth along the floor, desperately trying to string together a coherent sentence.

“We haven’t...we never…” You sighed. “No, I haven’t used anything on him. No one knows about this but you.”

You didn’t know, but Taehyung felt a swell of pride at that. He was pleased that he was the only one who knew about this side of you.

His eyes raked over your form, still in your bathrobe, making you fidget.

“Does it bother you?” He asked. “That I know this about you?”

“Well...it doesn’t exactly make things easier.”

He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, something he knew drove you crazy.

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what you meant.

“How am I supposed to act normally around you now?” You replied.

He was staring you down with those dangerous eyes of his.

“I don’t want things to be normal between us.” He said.

Shit. There it is.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Taehyung. No more games.” You commanded as you crossed your arms.

You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Seeing you and Jimin together…” He began. “Made me think about all the feelings I’ve been having towards you, and it made me realize something.”

You shifted your weight to one hip, urging him to continue.

“I want you too.” He said.

Your heart jumped in your chest.

“I don’t care if you’re fooling around with Jimin, just as long as I can have you too.”

A heavy silence stretched between you, the only sound being the pound of Taehyung’s rushing blood in your ears.

You had to come to a decision now. Either reject him and establish your relationship as strictly platonic, or give in to the desires you’d been entertaining ever since you laid eyes on him.

It didn’t take long for one side of the argument to prevail.

Taking a few slow steps towards him, you let your hands fall back at your sides, your eyes slinking seductively.

You couldn’t wait to see how that collar would look on him.

“Well then, I guess I just added one more toy to my collection.”

~~~

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please tell me what you think and what i can improve on! next chapter will be focused on taehyung, hoseok, and jimin ;)

if you want to be tagged just let me know!

@rainbow-pandacorn @boononx @vannilacake @i-am-always-famished @oxymirror @bangttaeng @baekthecupcake​ @sleepysavya @kclaerhout @lilacbaby11​ @ceciann​

#bts #bts vampire au #bts ot7 #bts fanfction #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts hosoek #jung hoseok #BTS jin #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #sub!bts #dom!bts #bts x oc #bts smut

[peachcitt]

for the meta writing asks: 20 and 4? ☺️

okay so thank you so much for asking these questions and wanting to know more about how i write and basically im saying ilysm and also that this got really really long SO if you’d like to hear about the stuff i think about/thought about while writing, click the read more!!

warning for: bone tea spoilers (like. spoilers for the end of the fic) and some mention of religion

20. tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

let’s talk about bt! because god knows there’s a whole lot in there that i could talk about for hours BUT let’s talk specifically about gabriel and lila - our two favorite villains. NOW if you haven’t read bt (you can read it here) and don’t mind being hella spoiled for how it ends, gabriel is the father of adrien, one of the main protagonists, and lila is an ex-lover of marinette, the other main protagonist. throughout the whole story, i made it so that the relationships marinette and adrien have with gabriel and lila remain really complicated.

at the start of bt, we know adrien has cut himself off from his father and hasn’t seen him in years. as the story progresses, adrien and gabriel begin to make the steps of re-establishing a father-son relationship, and it’s something that adrien really does seem to feel good about. and then gabriel tells him that he’s hawkmoth, the guy who’s been killing people. so that’s not great.

for marinette, we’re given the sense that she’s been very isolated for a while, at least in the world of magic. when shit hits the fan, lila comes along, and it’s revealed that the relationship marinette and lila had before bt was a very passionate one that ended very badly. when chat confesses to marinette, we learn that in some ways, marinette still hasn’t recovered from the relationship she had with lila. and it turns out, lila joins up with hawkmoth for the sole reason of ruining marinette in any way she possibly can as revenge for breaking her heart. so that’s also not great. 

here’s bits from the final fight scene, aka the scene where both gabriel and lila are defeated:

Within seconds, his body was dropping unceremoniously to the floor, his life buzzing around amongst her teeth, and she was turning around, sparing no glances to the limp form of the man who had killed her friends, killed her other half. 

//

Marinette’s eyes widened. She and Lila both turned their heads to Adrien, pushing himself up from the floor. There was a determined light in his eyes, and Marinette knew. She knew he was going to do it, and he was going to do it right.

“To worlds far and unreturnable-”

Lila also seemed to know.

She turned her head back to Marinette, desperate, unhinged. She raised her arms, the blood and the silver glinting.

“BEGONE!”

it might be a little hard to tell since these are very small snippets, but here’s what i wanted to point out: in this final fight, marinette is the one to defeat gabriel, and adrien is the one to defeat lila. in a sense, marinette and adrien defeated each other’s antagonist.

in the final scene, they felt that they had literally no other choice; adrien was dead, gabriel offered his life, and marinette knew that was the only viable option for adrien to come back. marinette was pinned down, lila had the upper hand, and adrien knew marinette wouldn’t say the words in time to save herself. this was, to me, the ultimate symbol of adrien and marinette’s partnership and relationship; they always had each other’s backs, they were always balancing each other out.

but, i also felt that i was robbing the both of them the chance to feel closure for the abuse they each suffered. despite everything, adrien loved gabriel (his last words before dying were “i love you” directed toward the entire room - not just marinette, not just emilie, but also to gabriel) and marinette loved lila (even when she was inhabiting another body, marinette could still see lila behind it all - her last words to her, and presumably the last words she thought she would ever say were “i loved you; with everything i had, i loved you”)

SO let’s look at two moments from the final chapter:

After a moment, Adrien took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Is he still here?” he asked, and Marinette nodded. Adrien stared down at the grave, eyebrows furrowed. “Go now, Father,” he said softly, almost gently. “Go.”

Gabriel opened his mouth as if to say something in protest, and then he swallowed, glancing at Marinette and Emilie. He bowed his head, and he faded away, out of sight.

“He’s gone,” Adrien whispered. It wasn’t a question.

//

She rubbed her thumb over the little fix insignia, and she murmured the spell to wipe the hex away under her breath. When she pulled her hand away, the fox was gone, and so were all the traces of Lila’s magic. “It’s done,” she said, and she resolutely placed the book back into its proper place.

“Done?” Adrien asked, and Marinette nodded.

“Yeah. She’s gone.” And it was like a little weight had lifted off of her shoulders.

again, it might be a little hard to tell in these small snippets, but here’s what happened: at gabriel’s funeral, gabriel’s ghost shows up and adrien is the one to send him away for good. at marinette’s bookshop, marinette finds an old hex that lila left on one of the books from a while back, and she is the one to wipe away the hex.

so, through these small final scenes, i tried to give adrien and marinette the opportunity to say goodbye to the people they both loved and hated on their own terms. it was important for me to show that they saved each other without question in the final fight, but it was just as if not more important for me to give them each the space and peace so that they could come to terms with and turn the page on their past traumas.

dkjdkdskdkd that was basically a whole ass essay im sorry gnjfghjf BUT ive been wanting to ramble about that ever since i finished bt so THANK YOU for letting me do that

(ive also been thinking about maybe doing a bt reread before/after i post the special extra chapters where i reread bt and make comments like this about the thoughts i had while writing so let me know if any of y’all would like to see that!!) anyways next question sjffkj

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

"We are all God's things, all made of the same materials as everything else. There is a piece of Rome here, and there is a piece of here in Rome. The divinity does not lie in the place, but rather in the hands that shaped the place."

"Construction workers and artists that died hundreds of years ago made Rome," Will said, and Hannibal turned his eyes on him. A tumbling sort of feeling fell upon Will's stomach. "The company down the road made this one."

"Aren't the hands of God's people holy? Aren't the thoughts born from their brains pieces of the clay that He shaped, breathed life into?"

this is from my hannigram fic the dark and the stained glass watchers and there’s a couple of reasons why im proud of this, the first being that i was very drunk when i wrote this fic sfkjhsfkj 

literally i got drunk and i was like. hm i think i will write something gay and kind of blasphemous and then i wrote this fic that has a lot of really really good lines in it that i actually genuinely enjoy sober (if you haven’t watched hannibal and are curious about this fic - don’t worry you can read it if you want! it’s an au, so you don’t actually have to know anything about the show to read it)

im also proud of this bit because i have a sort of complicated relationship with religion skfjkfdk i was raised catholic which, as many know, has the ability to do wonders on your psyche in the long run in certain cases, and ive never really felt very connected to church or that strict sort of religion in general. im still not really sure exactly what i believe, to be honest - but i like to believe in the idea of holiness, of divinity. and, in this blasphemous gay hannibal fanfiction i wrote while drunk, i feel like in some ways i was finally able to put words to the things in my head regarding religion and belief in a way that i think is really beautiful. and im lowkey pretty proud of that.

anyway thank you so much for allowing me to ramble on about this stuff i love you and everyone who managed to read through all of this skjfghsfjh y’all are so strong 

#anon #ask #my writing #my writing meta #YALL IM SO SORRY I TALKED SO MUCH SJHLHLLDS #I LITERALLY CANNOT BELIEVE MYSELF FJKGHFLKGHS #(but actually i can believe myself i never shut up ddsdkkskdk) #i really just said: let me info dump about bt and also about me getting drunk and writing about how everything's holy #also i know the talk about religion is kind of A Lot and im really sorry about that because i know that's kind of a weird topic to get into #i almost chose a different passage but in the end i decided that this is something that i am actually pretty proud of #and also something that i think is really beautiful #(and you don't have to agree with me!!! that's perfectly valid!!!!!) #also about bt if any of you would like me to do a bt reread where i talk about meta like this please actually let me know #because i kind of want to do it actually #(and i know this is super long so that's probably not looking super appealing BUT #if/when i do the reread i'll make the comments shorter because i won't have to explain so much about the plot/situation ya feel) #so just let me know!!!