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gimmethatagustd · 11 months

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what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm.

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared.

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt.

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief.

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers.

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land.

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down.

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.”

You scrunch your nose at kiddo.

“I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.”

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug.

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face.

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole.

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in.

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful.

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees.

But he thinks you’re just a kid.

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would.

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field.

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.”

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth.

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart.

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours.

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?”

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone.

“I don’t know.”

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything.

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag.

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors.

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour.

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest.

“Aghh!”

“Pay attention.”

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass.

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field.

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!”

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles.

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises.

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks.

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.”

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass.

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin.

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about.

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile.

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning.

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away.

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.”

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook.

“I hurt all over, Joonie.”

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.”

“Sparring.”

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-”

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air.

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again.

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap.

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze.

“You did not.”

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle.

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.”

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.”

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.”

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods.

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong.

“Impossible?”

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away.

“I…”

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small.

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.”

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was.

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population.

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for.

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.”

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame.

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.”

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat.

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent.

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words.

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins.

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.”

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess.

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill.

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon.

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement.

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled.

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped.

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed.

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term.

You probably would have done the same.

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort.

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them.

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles.

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.”

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon.

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once.

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.”

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work.

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there.

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care.

“Not working?”

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.”

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway.

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months.

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.”

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away.

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?”

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street.

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor.

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.”

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run.

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder.

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.”

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method.

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?”

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest.

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded.

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms.

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined.

“How?”

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.”

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface.

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you.

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal.

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?”

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach.

“No.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down.

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars.

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.”

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.”

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown.

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to.

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.”

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology.

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing.

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you.

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway.

“Oh, I need to ask you-”

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training.

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him.

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong.

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans.

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest.

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?”

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy.

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.”

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further.

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.”

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either.

“But, okay,” you relent softly.

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders.

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable.

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair.

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly.

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles.

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?”

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks.

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.”

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.”

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!”

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself.

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own.

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone.

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it.

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far.

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him.

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends.

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him.

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize.

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way.

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you.

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly.

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around.

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group.

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do.

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact.

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold.

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body.

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says.

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them.

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist.

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you.

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s.

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared.

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established.

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case.

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.”

“Me and Jungkook what?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.”

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins.

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.”

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.”

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head.

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.”

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers.

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-”

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move.

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible.

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either.

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole.

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow.

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone?

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body.

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive.

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead.

“Where did you-”

“Shhh.”

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens.

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing.

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you.

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes.

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.”

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing…

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?”

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out.

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route.

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.”

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally.

“He’s okay.”

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor.

“He’s bleeding.”

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.”

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.”

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying.

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world.

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly.

“But you didn’t?”

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear.

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then…

He’s gone.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself.

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms.

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him.

“You never showed me before.”

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm.

“That’s because it’s creepy.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.”

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness.

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing.

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do.

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you.

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head.

You and Jungkook?

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?”

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.”

“What if they’re the feds?”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?”

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.”

“But-”

“No one talks.”

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason.

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless.

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from.

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate.

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung.

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers.

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune.

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.”

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose.

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.”

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man.

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states.

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you.

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff.

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door.

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.”

PART ONE - PART TWO

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

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911bts · 1 month

Note

it's a long shot but if anyone knows, it's you :) I'm looking for a bts video of peter holding oliver by his harness and twirling him around kind of? I saw a shirt clip on tiktok but would love to see the whole thing

ANON!! I've been trying to find this video since you asked like months ago because I knew exactly what one but for some reason it's not in my saved videos. And I just stumbled on it!

#anon #answered #s4 #4x13 #911 abc #peter krause #oliver stark #behind the scenes

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skinks · 6 months

Text

List of things that are yuri in titanfall 2

The sheer act of being scooped snugly into a cockpit

Cooper’s carabiner clip on the front of his armour chest plate

When BT says he’s 50% in love with a gun

The militia grunts all calling Cooper “sir” and gassing him up

BT making a note to get Cooper new underwear at the next supply drop

Multiple Apex mercs calling Cooper some variation of “little boy” or “son” [derogatory]

BT’s little crouch when he wants to talk to humans on their level

Cooper fighting Viper off of BT

Pilot crotch harnesses

BT monitoring Cooper’s heart rate

Anderson and Lastimosa warmly grasping each other’s arms before your first mission

When BT pulls Ash out of the cockpit and crushes her in one hand

Cooper’s little 🥹 face as he looks out of the ship window at the end

BT making notes of the facts that Cooper likes swimming and hasn’t had a long term relationship

Cooper teaching BT idioms and swears

BT punching a hole in a ship’s bridge window mid flight, crouching down to straddle the open window, popping his cockpit open and telling Cooper to embark. Most definitely yuri

#titanfall 2

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

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02/08/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Alex Sherman; Samson Kayo; Samba Schutte; Rhys Darby Harbringer of Cute; New Valentine's Calendar/Events; Calling all UK Folks for Help with Radio!; Watch Party Reminders! Love Birds!; Articles; Love Notes; Tonight's Taika;

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

Well Crew, today was certainly a day. I don't know about you but it sure seems like there's been a LOOOOT more cast activity lately. It's certainly triggered more clownings each day.

= Alex Sherman =

First noteable was our silent supporter Alex Sherman once again out here liking everyone's tweets.

= Samson Kayo =

Today was #WeLoveSamson day and lots of love was sent his way!

= Samba Schutte Eel BTS! =

David Fane got bit by a baby eel! Check out the video over on Samba's Instagram!

= Rhys Darby Cute Monger =

Well Rhys Darby decided to BREAK THE INTERNET today. First off, he has a new cameo -- it's on the far right with 5:34

Second, he decided to post a video of him and his son at a kitten rescue, where he's being viciously loved by a little grey kitten.

Please go watch, it's all the serotonin you'll need for like a month: TikTok / Instagram / Tumblr

Of course, that broke everyone's sanity. Here's a few highlights:

== New Calendars - Valentine's Events ==

#WooAsACrew Calendar! Checkout the upcoming Valentine's Events!

Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

== #Moonglow Manifesting ==

Something witchy is afoot! In the spirit of our beloved Buttons, let's put the moon to work and manifest what we all want: Season 3 of OFMD!

In many traditions, the growing moon phases are harnessed to visualize and manifest what you hope for.

Channel your inner Buttons if you're so inclined and cast a Moonglow Spell! Post your pics and use the hashtags:

#Moonglow Manifesting

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOur Crew!

Thank you so @_Irene_Adler on Instagram for posting these!

== Calling all UK Folks ==

For those of you interested in reaching out to the radio stations! They're looking for some help on with specific songs!

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

Love Birds Watch Party tomorrow! 9 Feb, 2024 9 pm GMT, 4PM EST, 1PM PST

Watch Party Hashtags:

#AdoptOurLoveBirds

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

==Articles==

Our Flag Means Death is Taika Waititi and co at their best – we need more of it

Our Flag Means Death star wore bespoke chest binder after costume designer’s moving gesture

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies, apologies for not having the energy to say much tonight. Been a long day at work and then I got distracted by Taika Butt and Rhys Kittens. I've been saving some of these little pictures for this kind of day so I hope they give you a glimpse into my love for you. Get some rest and see you tomorrow lovelies <3

== Tonight's Taika ==

Since we've got all the Rhys Cat videos tonight, I think it's time for some Taika Pups gifs.

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #save ofmd #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #adopt our crew #rhys darby #taika waititi #samba schutte #samson kayo #alex sherman #watch parties

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lowkeyrobin · 24 days

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I just read your mcyts x musical theater reader and it was so sweet. I was wondering if you could do something similar but instead of the reader doing musical theater, they do movie/tv acting??? maybe with slimecicle, niki, foolish, and quackity?

I can try I can try 🙏🙏 ; I wanna formally apologize to anyone who's sent requests that I've never posted, sometimes the lack of ideas just hits me like a brick and I physically have no more ideas and can't post them lol ; also sorry if any of this is a little inaccurate, this is just what I know from bts videos and dead meat / kill counts lmao

MCYT ; actor reader

includes ; nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers & slimecicle

warnings ; language

masterlist

NIKI NIHACHU

your biggest fan fr

she binges every single movie/show you've been in just for you

then afterward her tiktok fyp is filled with edits of your characters

her pinterest is filled with pics of your characters too lmao

she's got boards for all the diff characters and aesthetics and bts pics

you send her a picture of you hung by a harness and she's like "what kind of contraption are you in and why"

probably watches the movies/shows you're in on stream for first time reactions and commentary

if you have to wear a wig for a project you'll show her like a time-lapse of how the makeup dept puts it on and she's just like "how long does that take???" "an hour" "omg"

ALEX QUACKITY

liking, reposting and commenting on any edits of you/your characters

actually so down bad /hj

yk damn well he's always asking "hey any new movies or shows ur gonna be in soon??" "not soon enough for u to watch rn lmao"

always makes jokes in reference to media you've been in

asks what other actors are like bts and if they're actually nice or if they have a JLO type ego

always wants to match Halloween costumes w your characters and their love interest/best duo type friend iykwim

hides the fact he reads fanfiction about you and your characters

FOOLISH GAMERS

owns every single piece of merchandise related to your characters

owns every piece of media you've been in on DVD, and has most of the original scores on cd/vinyl

constantly making references and jokes to movie/show deaths you've acted out / traumas your characters have endured

his tiktok fyp is FILLED with edits of you

every like three scrolls it's another edit that he likes, reposts and favorites

he rewatches edits 24/7

also dives into fandom culture a bit bc he wants to talk to people who like your career as much as he does

also the type to ask "is ___ a good person or are they secretly a bitch?" lmao

you spill all the juice

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

has an actual checklist of which movies/shows he's watched and how many times he has

the gossip about other actors bts goes crazy

he's probably the one to show up to set the most to give you food or motivation lol

"whatre you guys doing with all the blood?" *cue him looking to giant gallons of fake blood*

"I, ___ & ___ are dying today"

"Oh, fuck, cool. can I watch?"

matching Halloween costumes with your characters 💯💯💯

he's obsessed with seeing edits of you and reposting the ones he finds on Twitter

"Holy shit you guys are insane (make more right now)

w boyfriend

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #gender neutral reader #gn reader #mcyt x gn reader #gn!reader #they/them reader #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #foolish gamers x reader

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gimyeongbestboy · 7 months

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Now Playing: Interview with Jujutsu Kaisen Cast

A/n: this is written in a script-like format. Basically kind of like watching an interview video in youtube or smn. This one is basically branching off from this fic.

Characters include: Sukuna, Toji, Geto and Gojo

[Today's Guests: Jujutsu Kaisen's "Big Boys"]

Gojo: Hi, I’m your good looking sensei, Gojo Satoru. (Gojo playfully winked at the camera)

Geto: I’m your resident curse manipulator, Geto Suguru. (Geto introduced himself with a soft and gentle smile)

Sukuna: I’m the King of Curses, Sukuna Ryomen.

Toji: And I’m the sorcerer killer, Toji Fushiguro.

[Today, these four men will be answering five BTS FAQ’s fans have regarding the hit show, “Jujutsu Kaisen”]

[First question: Is Sukuna Ryomen related to Yuji Itadori?]

Gojo: Oh! A lot of people really want to know the answer to that. (Glances at Sukuna)

Sukuna: He and I have got quite the spitting image of each other, huh? Am I related to Yuji or not? In what sense? In real life or in the show? You know, not long ago, he and I actually went on a trip together. We went to Maldives, and we came across Todo.

Gojo: How was it?

Sukuna: Honestly, it was so fun. We went scuba diving, snorkeling, watched some dolphins and whatnot. Oh you know, Yuji is actually a really good swimmer believe it or not. (Laughs) The seafood was really fresh too, and then at some point Yuji started craving wagyu.

Geto: We should go there together.

Toji: A guy’s trip? (Looks around at Sukuna, Geto and Gojo as they all nod to each other).

Sukuna: Anyways, we’re twins, or it’s what people like to say. I can’t give you a proper answer if you don’t specify. (Smirks at the camera as he shrugs).

Gojo: All that information about their trip, and he still wouldn’t say. (Amused)

Toji: A true menace. (Nods)

Producer: Your castmates, surely know, right?

Geto: (Teases) Do we though? Do we?

[Second Question: Was Toji’s reaction to Gojo losing it real?]

Toji: I’m guessing they’re talking about the fight. We were flying, huh? (Looks at Gojo).

Gojo: It was so fun filming that! We had harnesses attached to us pretty much the entire time—flinging us everywhere. I bet none of you guys ever felt like what it’s like to fly, huh? (Playfully smiles at the camera)

Sukuna: Other actors that filmed something similar?

Geto: People on amusement rides?

Gojo: You know what I mean!

Toji: Anyways, when we were all doing the script reading, we kind of get into our characters and deliver our lines with voice acting to prepare for the scene we’d film. During that time, Gojo delivered his lines really well, but when we were filming? Gojo… really seemed like he was losing it. (Laughs)

Gojo: What can I say? I slay✨

Sukuna: He was quite drunk when filming that scene was he not? (Smirks knowingly)

Gojo: (Whispers to Sukuna aggressively) Bro, shut up.

Toji: He was drunk? (Surprised)

Geto: After you guys filmed all the action scenes, we gave him a shot of alcohol before you guys filmed the scene where he was “lucid”. He’s very lightweight (smiles as he points to Gojo).

Sukuna: It was a shot for a shot (lightly giggles)

[Third Question: What did Gojo say to Suguru?]

Gojo: This is like that one question asking if Sukuna is related to Itadori. (Laughs).

Geto: Even on the script itself, his line was literally just a line.

Gojo: I had to think of something to say during filming, because they needed that scene of me saying something to Suguru. I didn’t know what to say because in the script it was just a line— a dash. So, during filming I just simply said, “I want kikufuku.” (Laughs with amusement)

Geto: I almost pulled some kind of face, but I had to hold it in (Laughs).

[Fourth Question: Are the twins Geto’s actual daughter?]

Geto: The twins are not my actual daughter, but the little girl that played Rika is.

Sukuna: Isn’t Megumi also Toji’s actual son? The set is filled with real life parents and children. (Laughs with amusement).

Toji: How did she get casted?

Geto: Basically, the director wanted to film the fight scene between me and Yuta first, and the little girls that were casted before her got scared of me during the fight scene. They had to re-cast like 3 times. They all ended up crying, and then eventually my daughter said, “Oh! Let me try!” The director liked how it turned out, so they just did all the scenes with her.

Sukuna: Wow, you out there making children cry, huh? (Says teasingly)

[Last Question: What’s the best part about filming?]

Sukuna: For me, it was definitely working with Yuji. That kid, I’m not even going to lie, is fun to be around. Although sometimes, he has too much energy. He’s very goofy and definitely brings a fun and light mood to the set.

Toji: I tend to have a very busy schedule, and so does my son— especially with both him and I being in the same industry. Though it was only for a short while, I’m glad filming Jujutsu Kaisen together gave us more time to hang out.

Gojo: For me, it would be the amount of team work that we’re all putting in to make this show a success. Everyone is honestly so easy to work with. I know Sukuna seems very menacing in the show, and maybe in real life too because of his tattoos, but he’s actually nice. (Laughs) Honestly, I’ve made quite a few new friends working on this project.

Geto: Honestly, it’s nice to be able to work on a project with Satoru again. Last time we ever worked together on the same project was when we both walked the runway for one of my wife’s collections— maybe 7 years ago? Yeah, and my wife being involved with the outfit production and my daughter being on set, it kind of made the set more comfortable to be in.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen toji #sukuna #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna #jjk x y/n #jujustsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #jjk gojo

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sweeturis · 2 years

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where was the scene where noah had to be “harnessed up”? where was the scene with lucas, mike, and will wearing winter jackets? where was lonnie, since his car was in the california poster? where was kali and her gang, since they’ve been seen in bts pics? where was the mike finn described, who was “trying to be as normal as possible and keep on a normal path” and “might be into some new things”?

i am genuinely so confused. it’s like they cut out half the scenes they filmed.

#some shit is just bad writing like max’s letters never being brought up again or the reason for mike being distant from will and not being-#-able to hug him not being explored. but some stuff was just genuinely confusing ??#maybe they’ve already started filming season 5 (and the finn stuff is because he didn’t know what stuff they shot would be in what season)#but that doesn’t explain why lonnie’s car was in the california poster #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #kali prasad #byler #mine #mine: stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4

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randombtsprincessa · 1 year

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Backseat of my Rover

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 4k

Genre: Smut

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: You are trapped in an uncomfortable sitting position. Can Namjoon help make it better?

Playlist: banks - meteorite

Content Advisory - Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Crack, Comedy, Lap Sex, Fingerfucking, Public Sex, Accidental Voyeurism

A/N: It's BEEN SO LONG! This is one of my Nano works and I am slowly getting back into writing! Gif by yours truly, it sucks I K

The stadium location rang with screaming ARMYs, piercing the ears of the people working without earpieces or the ones who remained backstage. You were one of them, standing just meters from the blackout drapes that hid the beloved idols once their jobs were done. Once these drapes fell, so did the men, wheezing to get oxygen into their lungs after having given it their all.

Your hands covered your ears, providing meager protection against the uproar outside. The end of the encore saw that blessed curtain falling for a few moments, letting the boys get into some warmer clothing before they made a reappearance. Towels soaking up sweat, water bottles clutched in one hand and a microphone in another, they beamed at their galaxy of lovers, cameras pointing to catch every single facet of a glance.

You wondered yet again how they managed to keep that smile going when they knew that the moment they stepped foot outside, the media would rip into those precise smiles for anything to smear them with. It was madness. But it was a madness that they worked hard for - and perhaps, in some deep, dark crevice of their soul - they even felt benefited by it. It certainly seemed to pay off every time they graced the threshold of a dignitary hoping to harness the power of a vast multitude.

Tearing your eyes from the hypnotic wave of swaying people, you turned to look at the leader of BTS.

Kim Namjoon commanded the attention of the people in the room the moment he decided to raise the mic to his mouth, taking a few puffs of breath before shouting for the fandom.

The response was immediate, renewed zeal coloring the resounding yells.

“What a night, really!” He finally began, waving a hand to his grinning members. “I am, as usual, speechless with the support that you guys always shower us with. You’d think someday I’d get used to it, right?” He aimed a wink at one of the nearest fan cameras, essentially making the woman blush and shy away. “Ah, but no, it is better every single time and it’s more every single time.”

Your hands had migrated to your mouth now, covering a sheepish smile as you blatantly tuned him out. While Kim Namjoon was in no way predictable, you had to admit that you found it - extensively - difficult to focus when he…well, when he looked like that.

Namjoon’s ash blond hair stuck up every which way where he had hastily rubbed at it. The band around his head was long gone - the stray strands that fell over his forehead doing more for his disheveled look than the carefully styled grunge do could ever hope to achieve.

You sighed into your hands, lowering them till they now clasped neatly at your front, looking the picture of a doting listener. No one was really paying any attention to you, the stage managers, directors and personnel were too busy eyeing the occupants of the stage with hawk-like precision.

BTS was no amateur, of course, but it was their job. You knew they were very good and dedicated to what they did, but you still had to put up an act just on the off chance someone was bored or distracted and caught you with a dopey look on your face.

While it wouldn’t make a difference - you would never live down the shame of it.

Besides the fact that you happened to be one of the closest friends BTS had, outside of each other, you had been enjoying certain ‘privileges’ as soon as Hybe - then Big Hit - had vetted and checked the OK next to your name.

Merch at a much lower rate discounts at the brands they worked for and tickets to any events you wanted to attend were just scratching the surface and you did not want people to think that you were getting off scot-free for things people paid through the nose for.

You did, but still…

For all you knew, there were mutters about your existence already, with you being over their homes or studios as much as you did. You would still try and make sure they knew you weren’t…being untoward with them.

You weren’t, because over everything, they were your friends, very good friends and you valued them for what they meant to you and the world at large.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t ogle. You just did so covertly.

Plus when your job had started back up, you had even less free time to be over as freely as you had once. You now attended only when you could.

And, somehow, you felt much better about it.

It certainly put a bar over any pesky feelings that had no business being there.

Eyeing Namjoon on the stage, you sighed again.

With the end of the speeches and end moment, the curtains fell again, sweeping the boys into a dark embrace where they could be normal again, just seven men with mighty personas that ruled the world to say the most.

Jimin was the first to reach the backstage, hands shivering as he reached for the piles of water bottles. He nearly tore the cap of one, pouring water into a throat that had sang, shouted, screamed and was probably painfully hoarse.

You watched him from a respectful distance even as Hoseok joined him, the same actions exhibiting just how in need of elements they were. Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon remained on the stage front, no doubt deep in discussion of the concert to find out any chinks that would be addressed in their meetings later on. By the time the two youngest members joined the rest of their members; Jimin had looked up and caught your reflection in the mirror.

“____!” He cried out in surprise, eyes crinkling immediately into a beaming grin.

The call for your name drew attention from the rest of the six boys, similar yells of happy shock ringing out before Taehyung had carefully wrapped you in a bear hug. “You never told us you were coming!” He huffed.

“Yeah, I didn’t know until the last minute that I was.” You laughed, down on your feet again. You presented the small bag of candy that you had brought with you. “I got this for you all as a thank you and ‘I’m very proud’ present.”

“Oh man,” Jungkook was the first to grab it out of your hands. “You got all the good ones, this is the best.” He proceeded to tear into one of his favorite chocolate bars.

“Yah, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi and Jin said at the same time.

The Maknae paused, one cheek ballooning around his mouthful. “Wha`?”

“You just performed a very demanding set. You need water and something light.” Namjoon said calmly.

Jungkook looked down at the bar. “This is light.”

“And healthy,” Hoseok clapped the youngest on the back.

“Guys, five minutes - and then we’re out.” One of their managers poked their head into the conversation, speaking quickly and receding just as fast. Sometimes you marveled at how quick they all were.

“Right,” Namjoon nodded at the man before looking at you. “____ will come with us. We’ll drop you on the way.”

You shook your head when the rest of them agreed. “No, no, I can take a cab. You guys are all tired and need rest. I couldn’t possibly -”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to let you go off alone into the night, ____.” One of their female managers came up. “We can always take you home once we drop the boys. It’s fine. Just come along.”

In the end, you quietly followed the seven to the parking lot where their SUV waited. As usual, they had to divide, a part of them going with a few managers while the rest with other staff members.

The managers were already in, cramped with equipment.

Jin entered first, followed by Yoongi, Hoseok and Taehyung. Namjoon stepped into the vehicle, grunting at the tight fit.

“That’s that.” The woman who had told you to come with said, shutting the door after Joon. She turned to Jimin, “The Rover will take the rest of you.” She said, just as the door of the SUV opened again.

“Hey, if they’re getting a separate car, I should stay with them. It’s a bit of a squeeze here anyway and you can take the others home. They need the rest.”

The woman chewed her lips, considering his request before sighing. She was probably too tired for this as well. “Fine, you won’t have to wait long. I told Sungwon to come as soon as you all came out.” She said, climbing into the place Namjoon had vacated.

The SUV waited till Sungwon came with the Rover, Jimin and Jungkook quickly filing in. You glanced into the car to see the back full of metal boxes, clearly bearing more equipment. That left…

“Ah shit.” Namjoon cursed when he looked in as well. He looked over where the SUV exited, the red tail lights blinking mockingly at them now. “Sungwon-nim, why are the boxes in this car? I thought they keep this for emergencies like these.”

“What to do, Namjoon-ssi; they had all these boxes lying about and Ara told me to pack up what I could. I didn’t think you would need the car today, forgive me.”

Namjoon was quick to dismiss the man’s apology, smiling reassuringly. Then he heaved his own sigh and turned to me.

“Jimin can sit on my lap.” Jungkook piped in suddenly, making the both of you look at him.

“Fuck you, you should be sitting on my lap.” Jimin said immediately.

“I’m way bigger than you.”

“I’m older, you brat!”

“I’ll just squeeze in the back, really, its fine.” You squeaked.

“Nonsense. If anyone should be sitting in the back, it should be one of us.”

“Should I sit in the back and one of you drives?” Sungwon added in, looking amused. That effectively stopped the bickering.

Namjoon thought a moment before muttering a ‘fuck it.’ He clambered into the empty seat. “____, you’ll have to sit on my lap. We can adjust till we get home.”

There was silence.

“Huh?” You said, trying not to look horrified.

“It’s not a big deal. Just sit till we get there.”

“Your legs are already sore from all the dancing you did today.” You crossed your arms. “I’m not sitting on you.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “You’re not that heavy. And I’m not that weak.”

“Yeah, ____,” Jimin grinned at you. “Hyung’s been working out in case something like this happens.”

“Do you want to sit in the back, Jimin-ah?” Namjoon asked.

“____ sit on his lap, please.”

You purse your lips, looking from Jimin to Namjoon in his stubborn glory. You heaved another sigh. You were losing count of those today. “Fine.”

Namjoon had not been lying; you discovered when you proceeded to sit on him. His thighs bulged and shifted under you, muscles moving as he adjusted himself. You kept one hand on the window’s edge, keeping most of your weight off him.

“____,” He admonished when he realized what you were doing. He placed his hands on your shoulder, pressing down till you were actually sitting on his lap.

“This is a long drive, you know. I won’t let you make yourself uncomfortable for all of it.”

“Joon, be reasonable. Just let me sit in the back.”

“No. Stop being ridiculous. Just sit quietly and it’ll be over soon. You can even sleep if you want to.”

True enough, if you leaned back, you could rest your head on his shoulder but as it was, you were already nervous and on edge. So you sat ramrod straight and looked out the front, feeling Namjoon turn his head to stare out the window as they passed the now empty stadium.

The silence of the car soon became comfortable, lulling the worn out occupants of the car into sleep. Jungkook had his head leaning back on the headrest, earphones in while Jimin had curled up already in his seat, shoes off and head cradled in his arms against the side. Small snores now echoed from his side.

You wanted to look back to see if Namjoon was asleep too, to see if you could lift yourself up from him without him realizing. While it was very…kind of the man to offer up his possibly aching legs for you to flop on, you had to admit it felt cruel to do so. Not to mention…weird. You wouldn’t lie and say that you had never found lust in your heart when they wore those ridiculous costumes that (if twitter was anything to go by) made many people gnash their teeth to avoid screaming. You admitted that you stared at your friends and found them hot. But you had always kept it objectively fair.

This though…

You turned your head as best as you could; only managing to see the side of his head. You huffed, trying to move to the front so you could turn properly. Only, you were inhibited by the angle you sat in and the motion of the car. You squiggled, trying to find the best way to look at his face when Namjoon’s hands moved again. This time, they didn’t land on your shoulders. They wrapped along your waist.

“____, what are you trying to do?”

His voice was low, husky in your ear and you had to fight back the shiver it brought.

“Um, I was just checking to see if you were awake.”

“Why?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to admit that you were about to get off him. You’d sit on the floor of the car if it came to that. “I’m sorry I woke you.” You whispered instead.

“Oh, you woke me alright.” His hands were still on your waist, warm and snug, keeping you still on him when you felt it.

Oh…oh dear…

“Um, Joon?” You hedged, freezing on him when you realized that what you were feeling wasn’t actually his thigh muscles after all.

“Yes ____?”

“I think you…um, I think that you…”

“Yes? I am what?”

You refused to say it. You would not say it so you fell silent. It seemed that even Namjoon wouldn’t help you along with it.

“Turned on? Aroused?” He murmured finally when you never spoke again.

“Joon, just go back to sleep.” The…thing was much more noticeable now and this had to be the most awkward position you’d ever been in your life. You wouldn’t lie and say you’d never accidentally brushed up with their ‘bits’ ever. You were friends, it happened. But this…with his voice in your ear and his hot hands on your body…

Suffice it to say, you couldn’t wait to get home.

Namjoon ignored you. “I’m hard.” Gone was the murmur, his voice harsher against you. “And you keep squirming on top of me - that’s not helping.”

“Do you want me to get up?” You asked, careful to keep your voice down.

“No. You’re so warm and soft on me, like a blanket, why would I let you get up?” He chuckled in your ear and your neck prickled at the proximity.

This wasn’t right…

“Namjoon, you shouldn’t…” You trailed off when his hands moved, one going around to place a large palm on your front, holding you to him and the other rubbing down your leg. The slinky material of your skirt was cold in the car’s air conditioning, a startling contrast to the heat of his palm.

“Hmm?”

The skirt rose up as he drew his palm back. Your hands clutched at the window edge, trying to find some leverage to pull away from him. His hand was now under the material, hand flat against the side of your thigh. You gasped, wildly looking around at the car.

Jimin was still asleep, snores now very obvious. Jungkook still had his ear phones in but his head drooped to indicate, he too must have dozed off. You looked at the driver. Sungwon had the radio on, humming along and the seat was too high for him to notice anything behind him.

“Am I doing something you don’t want me to?”

His actions ceased immediately at his words, and in that moment you took stock of what was actually happening.

Kim Namjoon had his hands on you with one very close to the apex of your thigh. Namjoon, the man you’d felt flutters of nothing and everything for, was trying to hook up with you. Stepping away from the slippery slope that that led to, were you even equipped to handle what he could dish out?

In that moment, you were forced to pick between a jumpy but eager heart and body and the cold logical presumption of your brain that disdained the idea of you being good enough to date a BTS member. Not when they could have literally anyone they wanted.

“Joon, please,” You begged. You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Was it to keep him going? Was it to end this madness and push you both back to a place where you would always wonder of that pesky ‘what if?’

“Do you want me, ____?” Was his next question and obviously, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

“Yes,” You whispered, hating the way your whisper cracked on such a small but crucial word.

Even as you saw the line being drawn in the sand of your friendship with them, Namjoon took a moment to gauge your acceptance.

His fingers ran slow circles over your skin, warming your flesh in a way that had you melt further into your stupid decision. But well, you’d decided…and now you couldn’t just not go through with it, could you?

You leaned back into him, finding some solid comfort against his chest. The hand that held you to him tightened while the one under your skirt now pushed towards your center. You kept your eyes to the front as Namjoon maneuvered your body, sinking you further into him and angling you just so his hands landed on your core with the skirt covering his actions if anyone did turn their eyes on you.

“Are you sure, ____?” He asked.

“Please, Joon,” You whispered again and then his hands were inside your underwear, tips of his fingers caressing the mound. “Wait, what about you?”

“Shh, this is about you right now.” He muttered against your shoulder, breath hot. “Just work with me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. A part of you was thrilled to have him be doing this, but you didn’t want to seem as you were…taking advantage of his situation. Any other word of protest that you might have uttered died when his finger found your clit, having pushed your legs to spread over his own.

You covered your mouth when he applied pressure, considering your now lewd posture on top of the leader of BTS. And it might be hidden, but it was pretty damn obvious what was happening.

You let out a quiet grunt at the first circle of his rough fingers around the button. “Quiet, ____,” Why had you never realized how much you liked hearing your name from him? “We don’t want everyone to hear us, do we?” That question sounded too open-ended to be a real admonishment.

You bit your lips, trying to float with the way Namjoon worked you. He maintained a painfully slow pace, rubbing into your clit before alternating to pinch your lower lips closed over the nub. Your skin tingled, sensitive from the attention you were getting.

“Joon,” You turned your head to whisper to only him, hoping, praying he would have some pity. It was unbearable, sitting in a cold car with a hot hand over your most vulnerable spot, keeping you on edge.

“You want more?”

He took your squirming as a yes, hand pushing further into the panties to dip into your wetness. Tapping the wet flesh, he tracked the fluid upwards, painting the skin with your arousal for better lubrication.

“I think we can do better, can’t we?” He asked, sounding amused before his middle finger delved towards your hole.

Your muscles contracted at his proximity, Namjoon tutting once as his other hand moved as well. It fumbled under your shirt, finding its way in to cup a covered breast. “You have no idea how much I want to see you, ____. This will just have to do for now. I want you to relax, just breathe ok.”

And that was the thing about Namjoon.

It would be the strangest of things but he would be able to reassure and comfort you to such a degree that you would do anything. And so, you took a deep breath, settling against him and relaxing your body. Slowly, very carefully, you felt his digit enter you, curling some distance in.

He had to cough to cover the sound the both of you let out, his finger still in you, and your walls pulsating around him. He yanked his hand out of your shirt, grasping your neck to turn your ear to him.

“Fuck, ____, I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

You stared at him as best as you could, eyes falling to his mouth as you licked your lips in preparation. He followed the movement, grinning. “Only, let’s not, I won’t be able to control myself if I kiss you right now.” He opened his mouth as he pushed his finger completely into you, the knuckles brushing against your thighs.

He pumped you twice with one finger, gently sliding in another when he felt you relax more. Keeping your head turned towards the side where you breathed in his scent, he glanced over your shoulder, the motion of his hand visible through the fabric of the skirt.

Maybe it was you, but the wet sounds that emanated from his actions soon echoed loudly around you. Sungwon had long since stopped humming, the radio now a distant croon in the background. Jimin snorted a few times, the both of you freezing when he did but soon turned and continued to sleep. God, when would you get there already? You didn’t think you could take any more.

Namjoon had found your sweet spot a few minutes in and was unabashedly exploiting it, brushing against it to get your hackles up and then missing it entirely to rile you up. Your hands were clutching the handle, the other now in his hair.

Head buried in your neck, Namjoon panted hotly, muttering sweet nonsense to you that you could barely hear over the pounding of your blood. If you could get away with it, you’d have trashed, begged him to let you fall over the edge already. You were so close, it hurt. Your eyes fluttered close, a moan bubbling in your chest.

“Shit, ____.” Namjoon growled and your eyes flew wide open, seeing things in HD suddenly.

You were about to fall, you were toeing the line and then…

Your eyes met Jungkook’s.

His earphones were still plugged in, mouth agape as he stared at you in the mirror attached to the shotgun. The mirror must have reflected every damn thing that had happened and you had no clue how long Jungkook had been watching.

Namjoon hadn’t caught his Maknae watching, he only felt your walls tighten on him and redoubled his efforts to make you come.

And you did.

Watching Jungkook’s eyes trail down, most likely to where he could see…the activities, you climaxed.

Your core gripped Namjoon’s helping hand passionately, your juices slicking his fingers while the man pressed silent kisses to the side of your head to ease you along with it.

You slumped back against him in the aftershocks, eyes warily seeking the passenger in the front.

Jungkook’s eyes had returned to stare straight into your eyes. Gone was the wide-eyed stupefaction, in its place all you could see brewing was an alarming intensity.

Oh dear, what had you gotten into?

#bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #Silverspoon #bangtanbathhouse #namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader

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leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld · 17 days

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CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Three – Noona}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

Rated (M) for mature

Words: 4k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF MENTAL TRAUMA, (MILD) PANIC ATTACK AND PROFANITY. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION

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MATERIALIST

Taehyung's POV

The shock I felt was overwhelming, to say the least.

Why was she going against everything we've been taught? As hybrids, our purpose has always been crystal clear - to serve humans obediently and to seek their approval and attention.

Yet here she stood, challenging the very foundation of our existence. She advocated for our freedom, for the recognition of our worth as equals in a society that had always viewed us as mere possessions.

I couldn't help but question her motives. Was she naive, idealistic, or perhaps just brave beyond measure? And where did that leave the rest of us who had long accepted our subjugated status without resistance?

Lost in contemplation, I was taken aback when she appeared before me, concern etched across her features.

"Taehyung, are you alright? You seemed lost in thought," she inquired, her eyes reflecting a genuine worry that tugged at my emotions.

In that moment, I longed to seek solace in her embrace, to share the turmoil brewing within me. For I was far from okay, and the realization of our oppressed existence weighed heavily on my heart.

Being owned and exploited had been our norm – a perpetual cycle of submission that had stifled any flicker of rebellion within us. The dream of freedom, of being recognized and respected, had seemed like a distant, unattainable fantasy.

But her words, her actions... Perhaps they held the promise of a new dawn, a ray of hope amidst the darkness of our existence. Maybe, just maybe, today marked the beginning of a revolution long overdue.

As uncertainty mingled with hope within me, I couldn't help but wonder,

Was this really a path we desired to tread, one filled with unknown challenges and risks? Or was it a leap into a future where our voices could finally be heard, our identities no longer defined by the chains of servitude?

The answers eluded me, shrouded in the complexity of our reality. And as I stood there, grappling with conflicting emotions, one thing became clear – the winds of change were blowing, and we stood at the precipice of a choice that could redefine our very existence.

Heaven's POV

After carefully observing them, I realized that their appearance was not necessarily extravagant, but it was the emotions they displayed that caught my attention.

I could sense that they held great potential within them, waiting to be unlocked and showcased to the world.

I felt a strong determination to help them harness the talents and capabilities that lay dormant within them. They deserved a chance to shine and I was determined to make that happen.

In order to make them feel more comfortable and cared for, I called one of my guards to bring them some fresh clothes. It didn't sit right with me to see them in their current state, and I wanted to provide them with a sense of dignity and respect.

Shortly after my request, there was a knock on the door. I welcomed my guards into the room as they entered with multiple bags of clean, brand new clothes.

Their promptness and attention to detail reflected the level of care and professionalism that I expected from my staff.

"Ms. Valentino, here are the clothes you requested. They are clean and brand new, just as you specified," one of the guards informed me. I expressed my gratitude towards them and instructed them to also prepare seven double beds for our guests.

I began to envision the transformation that awaited them once they were given the necessary resources and support.

With determination and a compassionate heart, I was ready to guide them towards their full potential and help them realize the greatness that I saw within each of them.

I could feel several pairs of eyes on me as I stood there, commanding attention from them but I shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“Okay, uhm, how about you all take a shower, dress up, and wait for your beds,” I said with a warm smile, trying to make them feel comfortable in this new setting.

They didn't budge, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Well, this was just the beginning for them. They were about to get pampered in ways they never imagined.

I caught Jimin's eye, and when he quickly averted his gaze, I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Jimin?” I called out softly, making him tense up before slowly meeting my eyes again.

I gave them a piece of advice, emphasizing the importance of holding their heads high and never showing submission to anyone. I wanted them to be confident, to never let anyone look down on them.

Taehyung was the first to stand up, a glimmer of determination in his eyes as he approached me, trying to break free from his ingrained habits.

It was progress, even if it was just a small step forward.

“Thank you mas-- H-Heaven, I promise that on behalf of me and my pack, we will try not to show submission and break through our conditioning,” Taehyung's voice was firm, filled with determination to change.

I couldn't help but smile at his dedication. It was going to be a journey for them to embrace their true nature, and I was ready to guide them every step of the way.

As their protector and their link to the Valentino family, I made it clear that they were safe under my watch. No harm would come to them, not now, not ever.

“I'm glad, but let's not forget the practical stuff. Could you guys shower and dress up, please?” I added, feeling a bit awkward at the prolonged exposure to naked bodies.

The scene was chaotic as they frantically tried to locate the bathroom.

Their confusion was evident as they scurried in different directions. I couldn't help but chuckle at their adorable bewilderment, finding amusement in their predicament.

Not wanting them to endure any more embarrassment, I took it upon myself to guide them to the bathroom, offering a sense of relief amidst the chaos.

As I directed them, I made sure to inform them about the specific toiletries I had prepared for their use.

Understanding the sensitivity of their skin to human products, I had purchased hybrid-friendly soap and body lotion, keeping their well-being in mind. New toothbrushes were also made available in the cupboards for their convenience.

To further put them at ease, I encouraged them to choose clothing from the bags I had set out, assuring them that they could change after they had showered.

However, it came as a surprise to me when I discovered that they had never used a shower before. My heart went out to them as I realized the foreignness of such a mundane activity for them.

It saddened me to think that they were unfamiliar with the concept of taking a shower, highlighting the stark differences between our species.

The fact that something as basic as personal hygiene could be a new and potentially overwhelming experience for them tugged at my heartstrings. It served as a poignant reminder of the privileges I often took for granted.

After demonstrating how to operate the shower, I left them on their own, granting them the privacy they deserved.

Retreating to the living room of the suite, as I waited for the beds.

As I sat in the living room, my thoughts lingered on the cultural and physical barriers that separated us, prompting a sense of empathy and compassion for their vulnerable state.

~An Hour Later~

The boys were now clean and dressed, they looked absolutely breathtaking.

I mean, if they were good-looking before, now they were on a whole other level of beauty, they could pass for models on the front page of vogue magazines.

They were all rocking simple, casual outfits, but they somehow managed to make them look so stylish and chic. I couldn't help but admire how effortlessly cool they all looked.

"Okay, now that you guys are all clean and dressed, who's hungry?" I asked them, feeling excited about our little mealtime.

Hoseok timidly raised his hand without meeting my eyes. It was adorable how he was trying to be subtle about it.

"Yes, Hobi, what can I get for you?" I inquired, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

His reaction was priceless. His eyes widened, cheeks turning a cute shade of red as he stammered out his request.

"C-can I get w-what you're having, mas– Heaven?"

Gosh, he was just too precious.

"Aww, Hobi, sweetheart, you don't have to be so polite. Order whatever you want, and I'll make sure you get it. And if you want to have the same as me, that's totally fine too. Same goes for all of you, alright?" I reassured them with a warm smile.

Seeing them all nodding in agreement made my heart melt. They were just too adorable for words.

I wasted no time in calling Min-Soo for some food delivery, and just like that, he was at our doorstep in no time. Seriously, did this guy have superhuman speed or what?

"Hello, Min-Soo. My hybrids and I are hungry. Where's the restaurant?" I asked him, my voice coming out emotionless but eager, ready to fill our bellies.

"I'm sorry miss Valentino but the kitchen is closed and will only be open at seven in the morning" He said.

The restaurant is closed, which is beyond frustrating. I mean, who closes a restaurant at such a crazy time? Especially when they host late night events, which end at two in the morning.

Annoyed at the inconvenience, I dismissed Min-Soo with a sharp word and closed the door firmly behind him. Turning back to my hybrids, I noticed they were all staring at me in bewilderment.

What? Did I say something?

“Are you guys okay?” I asked, my tone unintentionally brusque.

But they all silently stared at me.

Weird.

Until it clicked.

"Oh, sorry, I hate insolence, it gets on my nerves," I remarked, deflecting the intensity of the situation with a casual shrug.

"Hello? Yes could you please bring in some food…" I talked to my guards as I took time to ask the boys what they want before hanging up.

In the faint light of the room, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the boys' imposing muscular bodies and the visible outline of their ribs, a telltale sign of malnourishment.

It tugged at my heart, a reminder of the struggles they must have faced.

As I stepped further into the room, their gazes bore into me, making me feel incredibly small despite my own confidence.

It wasn't just their sheer size or height that intimidated me, it was the way they stood in a rigid, almost defensive formation, like a wall closing in around me.

The hybrids seemed to exude a certain unpredictability that kept me slightly on edge.

Feeling the tension in the room, I tried to break the silence,

"As we wait for our food, why don't we do something?"

Jin, the lion hybrid, approached me with measured steps, his presence commanding attention.

There was an unspoken intensity in his voice that gave me pause, a hint of something hidden beneath the surface.

"What should we do?" His voice was laced with an unidentifiable undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.

I found myself faltering, unsure of how to interpret the weight behind his words.

Locking eyes with Jin, I noticed the darkness that seemed to swirl within them, a silent mystery that left me unsettled.

I realized then that he had been unusually quiet since our encounter began, a fact that added to his enigmatic aura.

Just as the tension peaked, a disruptive cough cut through the thick atmosphere, jolting us back to reality.

In that fleeting moment, the veil of darkness that shrouded Jin's eyes lifted, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of strength.

What was that? It seemed like he was trying to figure something out, I could feel it.

The raw and undeniable fear.

Was he testing me, by trying to intimidate me?

Confusion and curiosity warred within me as I tried to make sense of the sudden shift in dynamics.

"C-can you please scratch my e-ears?" Jin's bashful request was just the tip of the iceberg in the dynamics among the hybrids.

The way he timidly approached me with that innocent look in his eyes, contrasting with the powerful aura he previously exuded, was quite a sight to behold.

As I gently ran my fingers through his hair and scratched his ears, the pure joy that washed over his face was undeniable.

The way he leaned into my touch, seeking more closeness, was endearing beyond words. It was a reminder of the simple pleasures in life that these hybrids had been deprived of for so long.

"Have you never been given pets?" I asked slightly amused.

He shakes his head no and that breaks my heart.

The fact that he and probably the rest of the boys had never experienced such a simple form of affection before was both heartwarming and heartbreaking.

It made me realize just how much they had missed out on in terms of basic care and love.

Observing the eagerness in the eyes of the other hybrids, I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility weighing on me.

I had spent countless hours studying about hybrids, their behaviors, needs, and desires.

Hybrids, as I had learned, were not just creatures to be feared or controlled. They were beings capable of deep emotions, forming bonds, and seeking out the warmth of touch and affection.

It was a side of them that many failed to see, overshadowed by their predatory instincts and fierce appearance.

So, when the other hybrids clamored around me, their eyes pleading for the same attention and care that Jin had received, I couldn't help but laugh at the sudden rush of demand for pets and cuddles.

It was a stark reminder of just how starved they were for these simple acts of kindness.

Without hesitation, I welcomed them into the circle, giving each of them the ear scratches and pets they had been longing for.

The way their eyes lit up, their bodies relaxing under my touch, was a testament to the power of affection and care.

In that moment, surrounded by these powerful yet vulnerable beings, I knew that I had found my purpose.

To be the one who would give them everything they had been denied, to show them that in a world filled with darkness, there was still light and warmth to be found in simple gestures of love and kindness.

I noticed only six of them came to me, their fluffy fur shimmering in the dim light of the room. They wagged their tails, eager for attention and pets.

I looked around and saw the seventh one standing alone in a corner, his eyes fixed on us but his body language distant, almost wary.

After I had finished giving the last hybrid his pets, I walked toward the seventh one cautiously.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, a hint of concern creeping into my voice as I approached him.

He seemed a bit shaken, but his expression remained neutral.

"Yes," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind.

I sensed something beneath the surface, a tension that made me worry for him even more. "Are you certain? You don't seem..." I trailed off as he suddenly cut me off, his voice sharp and accusing.

"I SAID I'M FINE! YOU DON'T NEED TO PRETEND THAT YOU CARE ABOUT ME OR ANY OF US!!" He exclaimed, his words cutting through the room and capturing the attention of the other hybrids.

His outburst caught me off guard, his voice starkly different from the gentle tones I had heard before. I felt a surge of confusion and a tinge of hurt. Why did he think I was pretending?

“What are you talking about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper in the tense atmosphere.

His words came rushing out, filled with anger and pain.

"Oh, cut your bullshit, no human is nice. You all are just sick solipsistic, power-starved, sex-hungry beings that want to use hybrids to feel superior. I know all of this is solely a ploy for us to trust you, only to betray us in the end and inflict unimaginable suffering on us!"

Tears streamed down his face, his anguish palpable in the room. I stood there, struck by the intensity of his accusations and the depth of his despair. His words stung, painting a picture of humanity that I couldn't bear to see reflected in his eyes.

As the weight of his words settled around us, I realized the importance of listening, truly listening, to his pain and fears.

This wasn't just an outburst, it was a cry for understanding and empathy in a world that had shown him nothing but cruelty and distrust.

I took a step closer, a silent promise in my heart to prove him wrong and to show him that not all humans are the monsters he believed us to be.

The situation was heartbreaking, to say the least. It was evident that he wasn't just dealing with anger or frustration, no, he was battling deep-rooted pain, scars that ran far beneath the surface.

His anguish transcended mere emotions, it was a haunting blend of hurt, fear, and utter terror.

And who could blame him, or any of them for that matter?

After enduring such torment for an extended period, even the most joyful individual can find themselves in the shadowy depths of despair.

The quiet ones, those who bear their burdens in silence, are not exempt either, eventually, the weight becomes too much to bear.

It all boils down to a matter of endurance, of how much one can bear and for how long. For him, for all of them huddled in that dimly lit room, they had reached their breaking point.

The seams of their collective resilience were unraveling, frayed threads of composure coming undone in a tumultuous display of raw emotion.

As I cautiously approached him, offering a gesture of comfort, he recoiled, a pained scream tearing through the heavy air.

"NO, NO, NO, BACK AWAY FROM ME," his voice cracked with anguish, the words punctuated by gasps for air.

His desperate plea to keep his distance, to spare him from further distress, echoed off the walls in a wrenching crescendo of agony.

"DON'T TOUCH ME, PLEASE, I'M SO TIRED OF THIS!! PLEASE, DON'T DO IT, D-DON'T DO I-IT."

The desperation in his voice was palpable, a visceral reminder of the turmoil festering within his shattered psyche.

I could see the torment etched in every line of his face, the anguish that had driven him to this precipice of despair.

With a gut-wrenching cry, he twisted his fingers into a tight grip, his knuckles white with strain. His back pressed against the unforgiving wall, he sank to the floor, the weight of his suffering bowing him down to the ground.

A lump formed in my throat, a bitter taste of helplessness settling in the pit of my stomach as I bore witness to his unraveling.

The sight was almost too much to bear, a tableau of anguish that seared itself into my mind's eye.

He was a man besieged, haunted by ghosts that only he could see. What unspeakable horrors had he endured, what demons lurked in the darkest recesses of his mind?

My heart ached for him, a silent cry of empathy for a soul adrift in a sea of pain.

As he began to scratch at his skin, the telltale signs of a panic attack setting in, my heart clenched with a sense of impending dread.

The frantic energy that coursed through him, the feral need to escape his own skin, painted a stark portrait of a mind in turmoil.

In that moment, all I could do was bear witness, a silent sentinel in the face of a storm that threatened to consume us all. The air was thick with unspoken anguish, a heavy shroud of despair that cloaked us in its suffocating embrace.

As I took the risk and wrapped my arms around the hybrid, a wave of emotions and thoughts flooded my mind.

The danger of being so close to a hybrid in such volatile tendencies lingered in the back of my head, but my concern for his well-being overshadowed any fear I felt.

The bond that seemed to have formed between us, seven males and myself, appeared almost predestined, as if our meeting was written in the stars.

To outsiders, my actions might seem irrational or even foolish, but deep within me, there was an unexplainable pull towards these individuals.

Their vulnerabilities and struggles tugged at my heartstrings, compelling me to protect and nurture them. The connection I felt with the hybrid in my embrace was undeniable, despite the risks involved.

As he held me tightly, I could sense his turmoil and pain. It was a moment of raw emotions, where words seemed inadequate.

Yet, I found myself making promises, vowing to shield them from any harm that may come their way. My voice quivered with determination as I declared my commitment to safeguard their autonomy and ensure they led a life free of suffering.

"It's okay, sweetie," I whispered, the weight of my promise heavy in the air.

"I swear on my life that no harm will befall you or any of the others. Your life, your choices – no one will infringe upon them. I will earn your trust and build a shield around you, protecting you from the darkness that once plagued your existence. Your future is bright, and I will not allow anyone, including myself, to cast a shadow over it."

In that moment, my resolve solidified, fueled by a mix of defiance and solemnity.

I knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but my conviction to safeguard these individuals was unwavering.

With every beat of my heart, I vowed to be their protector, their guardian, standing firm against any threat that dared to approach them.

And as we stood there, locked in an embrace that transcended words, I knew that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with unwavering loyalty and unbreakable bonds.

The male's once tense demeanor visibly softened, though he still clung onto me tightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck. The desperation in his actions was palpable.

Glancing around, I realized that the others, who had been ominously silent until now, were all watching us intently. Despite their stoic expressions, the fear and weariness in their eyes betrayed their facade of indifference.

Turning my gaze back to the hybrid, I felt a shiver run down my spine as he held onto me with a fierce grip. His sudden intake of breath as he whispered in a low, guttural voice sent a chill down my spine.

"Noona"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey, lovely readers!

I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the story so far. I'm eager to hear your thoughts on this latest chapter.

Did you predict which hybrid would burst out? Were you surprised by the twist, or did you see it coming?

Your feedback means a lot to me, so please drop a comment below and share your thoughts. And remember to reblog the story if you're hooked and want to show your support.

Your enthusiasm and engagement truly make my day, so thank you in advance for taking the time to read, comment, and reblog.

Every interaction with my work means the world to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

So, whether you're reading this in the tranquility of the night or the hustle and bustle of the day, I hope you're having a wonderful time.

And to all my beautiful butterflies out there, thank you for fluttering through these pages with me.

Your presence adds magic to this journey, and I'm grateful for your companionship. You're all awesome and fabulous, and your support fuels my creative spirit.

Sending love and inspiration your way,

Author-nim.

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody @strawblueberrys

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