Part One

•••> Author:@ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: “No specter assails us in more varied disguises than loneliness, and one of its most impenetrable masks is called love.” —Arthur Schnitzler

The mask protects you; you protect the mask.

And he protects both-at least, hethinkshe does.

•••> Pairing(s):Jimin / Reader

•••> Word Count:8.9k[Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags:smut | supernatural!au | Fantasy | Strangers to Lovers | Mafia!au | Soulmate!au | Jimin!au | Shadow!Jimin | Shadow!Reader |

•••> Warnings:smut, unprotected sex, fucking a stranger, public bathroom sex, mention of contraceptives, mention of knife play, mention of war, mention of mass murder, supernatural/fantasy sex, aggressive reader, Jimin is a lil snake, aggressive sex, threatening with knife, unwanted soulmate connection, mention of post-war trauma, mafia business. You know the drill. If you don’t want to read,don’t.If you’re under 18,don’t.

Part of the War of Love BTS Mafia Collab, hosted by @sugakookitty​ and @yutasthetic​! Thanks for letting me collab with you guys!

Copyright © 2022 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

His eyes are dark pools of curiosity as you meet them across the room.

Lights flash and bodies thrash to the beat of the music, yet the passionate chaos is all a blur when you catch his attention.

His gaze startles you at first, conveyed with the way you flinch when you catch it, and it turns smug when he lets the small smirk nudge the corner of his full lips upward. A small ring in the center of his bottom lip catches one of the strobe lights for the tiniest of moments.

By the looks of it, he’s a wannabe. The teardrop tattooed on his left cheekbone paired with his beautifully unmarred skin and richly blue hair is a dead giveaway that he’s never seen the actual horrors of the underground. You eye the attention-grabbing clothes he wears critically- a royal blue muscle shirt and black pants that hug his legs- and see the innocent aura he presents to the club. Still, there’s an intensity in his eyes that you can’t ignore. It seems to pull you in like a cosmic vacuum.

Seokjin leans into your shoulder to yell something in your ear, but you don’t hear it; a drink gets tipped over on your table, but you don’t mind it; Namjoon stumbles into the VIP section and sprawls himself out on the couch while Jungkook stops and turns to stand guard at the entrance of your caged-off section on the balcony, but you don’t spare either man a glance.

The man across the room is utterly enrapturing and you don’t have the slightest idea as to why.

Maybe it’s because he’s actually looking at you when he shouldn’t even be able to perceive your presence.

The steady flow of your umbra is a reminder that you’re still channeling it, so it confuses you even further when his stare on you continues.

Immediately on the alert, you raise your hand into the air to signal your leave- it’s not specifically conveying that you are leaving, but that Namjoon will be removed from your protection and that someone needs to take your place- and you exit the section with a light brush of your shoulder against Jungkook’s. He nods curtly in recognition of your departure yet keeps his well-trained eyes on the crowd that humps and bumps below him.

How can he see you? You furrow your eyebrows in concerned confusion as you walk away from the Cypher of Bangtan, down the stairs, and into the crowd with the unknown man at the forefront of your mind. Is he an Oracle?

Your body seems to be moving on autopilot as you carry yourself closer and closer to the wannabe. He stands against the far wall, making it hard for you to maintain eye-contact with him, so you give up and duck your head to return your presence to the shadows.

People can still see you if they know what they are looking for, however, no one in the entire club, aside from your small circle, knows who you are nor what you actually look like. Your natural ability allows you to draw your umbra over your face and become ablind spot. It is because of this fact that you are even more intrigued by the stranger who can see you.

Your job is to be inconspicuous- to be a ghost-as the Cypher’s First Protector. Namjoon chose you to fill the slot, becoming the first of the many wise decisions he made as the new leader of Bangtan.

One of his most recent decisions wasn’t so… wise.In fact, it makes your job much harder.

Even as you approach the one with the irresistible eyes, you host a twinge of spite whilst remembering how your leader demanded your visible presence at tonight’s festivities. Although you have to be visible to him, he didn’t specify that you had to be visible to everyone, so, since the start of the party, you’ve been concealing yourself from everyone except him.

And, apparently, the stranger.

No one makes way for you because they cannot see you, but it doesn’t make your path towards the man any less difficult. You skate around them easily.

Sweaty bodies grind into each other as the dark purple lights and green lasers flash across them. The DJ for tonight plays bass-boosted remixes of songs that you know well and, surprisingly, the crowd is mostly on beat with her. She raises a hand in the air and points to the ceiling with each heavy thump of the beat.

Plenty of people, you find, smile and scream happily despite the sweat dripping down their foreheads. You’ve been to this club many times since Namjoon bought it those few years ago but never before have you seen this many people so joyous at the same time. It must be a celebration of sorts but it is one you do not know what for.

You nod your head to the beat ever so slightly as you continue your path towards the far wall.

Coming up to the wall where the man was perched, you find that the stranger has left. Men stand, drinking and replicating your nodding to the beat, on either side of the empty spot where he was squished into before. Remnants of dustri leave you puzzled when you carefully get closer to the spot to test it.

You are noTaster; you cannot detect the use of this man’s powers, however, despite your inability to identify what he’s done, you can still detect that he did, for whatever reason, use it while he stood here. If it wasn’t for the intensity of his stare into your soul, you’d convince yourself that he’s new to using his ability by the way he so carelessly leaves tracks behind.

But he isn’t an amateur- you knowhe isn’t. For reasons unknown, this man wants you to follow him.

You turn and search the crowd for him with your umbra pulsing particularly strong to avoid unwanted eyes picking up on your search, but he is nowhere to be seen. Not a single, blue-haired head in sight. The lights continue to flash in the darkness of the room but you don’t need the light to search. You are a Ghost- a Shadow; you see just as well in the dark as you do in the light.

Briefly, you eye the Cypher of Bangtan through the crowd and note the way Jungkook’s shields have slipped just slightly since you left.

As Bangtan’s Ghost, their resident Exspiravit, you see the Unseen. Can manipulate the shadows of that which remain hidden. Jungkook’s shields are an invisible force to all except Oracles, other Shields like him, and you, yet even he forgets that you are able to physically perceive his ability.

His dark hair falls in his face and his figure slouches against the railing while he slides his hands into the pockets of his black joggers. Slacker. You’d have to give him a few lessons in the ring later.

Instead of heading back over to the men of the Cypher to reprimand your Second, you decide to follow the trail of the mystery man’s dustri. Your suspicions are raised with his antics so you willtrack him to secure Namjoon’s safety if not anything else.

You inhale a deep sigh and begin your pursuit.

The trail leaves you with a sweet taste on your tastebuds as you follow it out of the main room. Ever so subtly, you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to try retaining the color of his taste on your palate.

It’s been an incredibly long time since you last came into contact with someone’s dustri. All beings who wield gifts possess dustri, yet no dustrial person would be stupid enough to let anyone but their loved ones contact their dustri. For some reason, this man lets you test his.

Your skin thrums with his energy when you feel the trail get stronger. The sweetness of him develops on your tastebuds the further you walk and it is then that his taste color manifests into a rich, dark blue. The notes of his pulsed echoes send slight shockwaves to the back of your neck where the hairs stand up.

His power is addictive as you follow it down the corridor towards the bathrooms.

You become acutely aware of the six knives strapped to your thighs and the small pistol holstered to your hip, concealed from others by your umbra, due to the potential that this situation could turn out to be a trap. Many mafias around the country would kill Namjoon in a heartbeat if they had the chance and killing you would be a heavy blow to his defense.

Although you are the First Protector and the strongest line of defense against an attack, Jungkook has taken up the false image of being First to ensure better security- just as Namjoon is Seokjin’s supposed underboss- and it is in this farce that lies the ability to expose moles within the group. If the truth became uncovered and you were to be killed, it would leave no doubt of a leak within the Cypher.

The track of the man’s power pulsates from the men’s restroom when you come to stand in front of it. Even as your palms tingle and your bones vibrate, you prepare yourself for the worst- the best being that you get a quickie with a stranger in.

With a swift push, you open the door and charge inside.

The lights are off. Your umbra automatically trembles with power in the darkness and it races to overtake every crevice that lacks luminescence. It stretches from within your chest and connects you to the shadows of the room whilst the door to the hall closes behind you and completely encases you in abyss.

“If you think you can hide,” You speak for the man to hear, extending your dark dominion to each part of the room. “You cannot.”

Your shadows race to eat up the natural shadows of the area, hungry to dominate every inch of space and make it their own. Make it your space. Make it your home.

Suddenly, you’re aware of the pocket that goes unabsorbed by your ability. It shudders under the weight of your umbra yet maintains its shape. Your heart jumps with adrenaline because it makes absolutely no sense.

The entire room is dark so it should be entirely yours to encompass. The small space that resists your energy is drenched in darkness when you look at it, yet it still does not allow your umbra inside it while it begins a slow waltz toward you. With a staggered breath, you push against the space to no avail.

“You know,”

His voice is sin. It’s breathless yet supported by a thousand shadowed whispers as it skates along the shell of your ear with a soft brush of a lip to the skin of your sternum. Where your dustri is.

“I couldn’t actually see you up there. I only sensed you.”

You cannot see him. Whatever his power is, it is able to reflect your umbra away from his body in a way that shields him from your view with your own shadows. Although the pocket of him is small underneath your power, it retains its shape and wavers in front of you.

Like it’s teasing you.

“Who are you?” Your voice is a contribution to your power, layering it on even more harshly than before as you attach your umbra to your sound waves. Where there is sound, there is the absence of it that follows- an emptiness that can be filled.

You place a hand over the first of the three knives on your right thigh, preparing to use it as he gets closer to you.

Instead of answering your question, he continues his approach. “I wasn’t aware of an Exspiravitian in our ranks.”

You take a defensive step back to make your stance stronger and draw your first knife out of its sheath when the decreasing distance between the two of you becomes threatening. Despite the allure of his voice and his supposed membership in the Bangtan mafia, you must maintain your defense until you identify him, for he does not have the neck tattoo that associates him with you.

“What’s it to you, boyscout?” You growl the name degradingly because it is another form of defense. Anyone not within the Cypher should notknow of you. His discovery of who you are proves that he is lowly in the chain of command- if he’s in it- yet incredibly dangerous.

The venom in your voice seems to make him hesitate and falter his steps to a stop, answering with a lilt in his tone.

“Don Jin didn’t tell me another one of our kind was in the gang.”

Even as he says the words, you are surprised when his shape suddenly billows out against your dominion, fighting with vigor against it until it creates its own considerable orb of shadows in the room. It demands to be noticed.

His shadows are the darkest of blues you’ve ever seen, almost as black as your obsidian ones, and you find that they look so similar to yours that you have to look a little harder to find where yours stop and his begin. No one but the Exspiravitians- not even an Oracle gifted with the ability to See- would be able to tell the difference between the shade of your umbra and his.

The pull in it is next to impossible to resist. It makes a sinful, delectable, and sapid smog that threatens your desire to continue your dominance of the room. You want to absorb the color into your flesh and relish in the feel of it spilling out of your pores.

As much as you want to sink into him and let his shadows consume yours, you cannot let him under your skin. The sentiment is too dangerous with your differing positions in Bangtan. With the thought in mind, you take a mental step back.

You study the magnitude of his powers quickly and find that they are no match for yours. With each pulsation of his energy, you become endeared by the defiant fight they maintain. It’s enough to explain how he was able to perceive you up on the balcony; it confirms that he is, indeed, Exspiravitian.

Just like you.

“I was merely curious, Ghost.” He speaks again in the wake of your silence, using the slang word as if you are already friends with him. His shadows recede- much to your dislike- until they stick to his body like a second skin. The retreat allows for you to see his face and eyes once more. He is beautiful. “I meant no offense with my advances.”

“Are you new to it?” You brush off his prior statement, desperate to move on. He nods once as a response and you subsequently eye his bare neck critically. “Where’s your mark?”

“I get it tomorrow.” He responds quickly. “It’s initiation night.”

As someone who’s sole job is to protect the boss, it’s easy for you to forget that there are other operations aside from yours. What he’s told you finally makes Namjoon’s demand for your presence make sense. Of course he wanted you here; he wanted you to see the faces of the new recruits.

You shake your head at yourself and roll your eyes, going back to addressing his callous actions. “Watch who you advance, boyscout. The gang is not as forgiving as I am.”

What you’ve just told him is a complete lie; you are actually the least forgiving member of Bangtan. It is your job to rid the Don of anyone and anything that poses a potential threat. It doesn’t matter if they are actually innocent or not because if Namjoon wants them gone, they are gone.

But there is something about this man that rewrites your being as you stand in front of him. Something that instigates you to bend to him and his will.

And the statement you’ve just told him becomes only partially a lie as you realize this.

“Does that insinuate that I’m supposed to be glad you’re not using your knife on me?”

With his question, you’re instantly reminded of the knife that you hold defensively, at the ready. You lower it with a quirk of your eyebrow and a scoff in disbelief.

“Does that insinuate that you want me to use my knife on you?” You counter, ready for a brief tussle.

He smirks and it is an outright deadly expression on his handsome face. “Only if you make the intention behind its use less lethal and a little more… innovative.”

Your body is flying towards him and pinning him to the wall before you can even process what you are doing. The obvious flirtation from his position pushed too many of your buttons.

Threateningly, you press your knife into his throat and hiss. “I could kill you without batting an eye.”

His smirk doesn’t leave his lips and you discover an itch on your own when you notice how plump his actually are. They part as he exhales a breath from your arm digging into his chest.

You’re also thrown by the way he doesn’t attempt to defend himself.

“Is that why you still won’t let me see your face, Ghost? Because you don’t look your opponent in the eye?”

The frustration within you boils to a peak from his words because he has just taken a stab at your honor- a concept your people value. You angle the blade into his neck a little harder and watch as he winces just slightly. It helps you calm your racing heart just a little because, for some reason, the sight doesn’t sit quite right with you.

“Shut your mouth, boyscout. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”

The man’s blue hair has fallen over his eyes in the process of you shoving him against the wall. It sways with his breaths onto your nose tauntingly, daringyou to reach up and brush it away. You don’t.

“No?” He asks. The way he contorts his smile conveys that he knows something. The suspicion puts you back on edge immediately. “Let me learn then.”

It’s too late before you realize that, within the span of a few seconds, he has pooled his umbra below your feet to snake up and inch towards your back. As soon as he finishes his sentence, it closes around you.

Instinctively, you pull your umbra close to your body and push outward to keep his at bay, yet it is not enough to keep it from touching your body in certain places. The minimal amount of direct contact with it allows you to read the intentions of his aura.

Your grip on your knife falters slightly as his intentions come rushing at you all at once.

His aura is intoxicating, delectable, completely piquant as it washes over you. Even as you continue your resistance against him, you can taste his intentions on the tip of your tongue. It takes everything within you resist it because by the gods, he wants to fuck you against the stall so bad.

The man wants to taste your umbra all over his tongue. Wants it to spill on his face and rake down his back as he grabs you by your delicious thighs and pistons you into the stall behind you. Even as his hand comes up to just barely encircle the arm you use to keep him in his spot, he wants to cover you in his umbra until you know nothing but the taste of him.

Andoh, how you want to drown in him.

The connection you have with him is instantaneous even though you have not merged your shadows with his. You fight his umbra- again, it cannot do anything but tremble teasingly, unmoving against your own- but find that the only thing stopping you from giving in is the idea of fraternization.

With you being unknown, your position nonexistent to him, it quickly diminishes as a problem and reopens your willingness for a quickie.

His shadows inch closer to your chest where you keep your dustri tightly locked into place. Each passing second dwindles your need to resist him and allows his shadows to travel up along your body more provocatively.

“You,” You grit your teeth and tighten your hold on the handle of your blade when his shadows rise just enough to curl into the dip of your hip. He shapes them into fingers that gently prod at your skin. “You are evil.”

“Only if you want me to be, princess.” The pearly white teeth in his grin are insidious.

You have to give it to him. The man played you right into his hands when he saw that he was outmatched. Rather than struggle aimlessly against yours, he strategized a way to get you into a position where he had a better chance to gain the upper hand. Rather than try to win the battle of dustri with brawn, he used his head instead.

It’s kind of… hot.

You recoil at the thought and push against his umbra again, keeping it at bay and suspended as it ever so subtly cups your backside.

You chastise yourself for finding it hot when a man uses his head and not his dick.

Gnashing your teeth together, you double your effort into shoving your arm into his chest and keeping the point of your knife pressed to his carotid artery.

“Easy, Ghost,” He slowly lowers his hand from your wrist and, instead, curls it into the flesh of your waist. Your breath hitches at the gentle tone he uses. It’s almost… kind. “I just want to see your face.”

The request is a simple one, but it is one you can’t honor because it is one that places Namjoon at risk. If it wasn’t for the pull he exhumes onto you, you would be telling him to fuck off by now.

For whatever godforsaken reason, though, you want to be seen by him in any way that you can. Your soul begs to be revealed to his prying eyes so that it may fill the emptiness in his gaze with you. Your umbra, as a result of your dustri’s intentions, pulls back from your eyes to allow him the smallest glimpse of you.

The man’s body goes slack as he makes actual eye contact with you for the first time. He exhales shakily, grip trembling against your waist.

“Me solum,” He speaks the words in the ancient tongue of your people- a language you haven’t heard since you were a mere child. “It’s you.”

“Don’t play games with me, Exspiravit,” You bite the name out with disgust. “I am no stranger to the tactic.”

“Sentire cor meum, me solum.” He looks down at your shrouded lips with a look of bewilderment taking control of his eyes. You find it hard to believe what he speaks.

His use of the mother tongue does not bring you comfort nor does it add to his efforts of trying to woo you- if you ignore the way your body practically purrs from the sound of it- and you almost snarl at him because of the dark memories that come with your ability to understand him.

“English, motherfucker.”

He looks taken aback by your hostility again, confused with your reaction, yet presses his efforts forward.

“Feel me. Feel my heart.” Without missing a beat, he whispers and removes his umbra from his chest to expose his dustri to you.

Waves of blues and blacks cascade from his sternum, pouring out at you in search of an umbra’s protective cradle to keep it safe. You suck in a startled breath, shocked by its pure vulnerability as it cries out for your protection.

Before you have the chance to think twice about it, your umbra responds to your dustri’s intentions and swoops in to cup his in its grasp.

Midnight blue blossoms behind your fluttering eyelids as your body jerks forward to press against him. As if he was waiting for you, his umbra caves in to crush you to his flesh and ensure your tight support of his dustri. Your umbra vibrates with electrified vigor, an energy that seems to awaken parts within you that you were unaware of before. Is he telling you the truth?

Too many emotions fly at you at once, one of them being the shock you feel due to his sudden exposure. Exposing dustri is an incredibly dangerous act, especially with a stranger, and you can’t even begin to stress over the fact that he’s baring himself to you in the bathroom of Bangtan’s nightclub.

Your grip on your knife loosens even more as your chest presses up against the man’s. It goes clattering to the floor, forgotten.

He whines as you penetrate his chest with your shadows to fully encompass his dustri. His body shudders at the welcome violation of his most secure place and he lets his lips hang open to pant at the alien feeling. His umbra flows freely out of his mouth, served on the silver platter of his plump lips, like an irresistible dessert.

Your haste to completely encase him within your dominion goes forgotten as you zero in on the offering hungrily.

You’re mindless. The feeling of his vulnerable energy within your space is a sensation you have no idea how you lived without. It sucks your power in and pushes it back out, changed, although you don’t know if the change is good or awful.

In a violent detonation of dark tendrils, your lips meet.

His shadows are cool and inviting as you press into them with your tongue and inhale them down your throat. The contact is otherworldly and addicting, pushing you to open your lips against his and messily lick into his mouth to take another mouthful. He exhales another cloud of his dark limbs onto your eager tongue whilst he hungrily returns your kiss.

They curl down into your lungs, filling them into a veritable void of intoxicating darkness. When they cannot seem to dip into the shell you keep around your own dustri, they curl further down into your belly and pulse into the apex of your thighs. As his umbra seeks to consume your dustri like you’ve done his, it also comes to swallow your body below your hips and press up, up, up…

With a tedious tendril, the blue-haired man licks a shadow against your clothed folds.

Your legs turn to jelly as white hot desire washes through your core, driving your knees slightly apart to allow more of his attention. You almost slump your entire body weight into him, digging your nails into his shoulders to keep yourself upright, as he repeats the action again with a pained grunt.

The man’s hands encircle your waist and lock you against him as he leans into the kiss. You can’t help but raise your arms to loop around his neck and respond to his efforts with your own fervor.

In your weakened state, it’s hard to remember when he started moving you, yet you come to forget about it as he cages you into the cool metal of the first stall to keep you from leaving- not that you’d want to.

The man’s darkness oozes from him in waves when you let him pick you up by the backs of your thighs. It encases you in a pillowy cradle of safety and assists him in pinning you to the hard surface as if he is seating you in a cocooned swing.

For a moment, your lips part so that you can suck in actual air. A string of saliva clings to your bottom lip and his, stretching and then breaking as you part.

“Jimin,” He breathes, moving his lips to the side of your neck. It throws you off for a split second. “My name is-”

You cut him off, panicked. “Don’t tell me your fucking name, imbecile.”

But it’s too late. You know his name and it’s perfect. It’s everything you expected but so much more.

Jimin. Your other half.

Your umbra lashes out at him, wrapping around his body like flailing vines to secure his waist and hips between your legs. It’s too much pull for his shoulders to resist and they are forced to meet your own.

Chest to chest, Jimin fumbles with the button and zipper of your pants. He struggles within the confines of your umbra’s tight hold on him but, as soon as he gets the zipper all the way down, his own shadows pour down the front of your panties and flood the accumulation of your arousal to pool against your sex.

Instead of the coolness you swallowed into your lungs, it’s a lukewarm and pulsing heat that laps at your cunt like a steady tide. Jimin uses his umbra so that it doesn’t carry physicality when it comes into contact with your flesh, but that it acts as an energy that thrums into your nerves to remind you that you’re not imagining things.

You gasp into the storm of his shadows, craning your head back into the stall and relishing in the feeling of his tendrils tickling against your temples. You’re smart enough to know that he seeks access to your mind but you’re not stupid enough to allow it. The reserves of umbra you keep close to your dustri also fortify over your head to prevent him from getting in.

“Fuck.” Your expletive is swallowed by his smog and absorbed into absolute silence. You only know that you say it aloud because of the way your throat vibrates.

Your shadows are driven by your desire to touch Jimin, and they follow your intentions with long wisps that slide below his blue muscle shirt and adhere to each of his fine lines. Hesitantly, you raise one to nudge against his nipple.

With a full body jerk and a low groan, the Exspiravit seats his cock between your legs. “Your umbra. It’s so…” He hisses as you slide your shadows down to the bottom of his stomach. “… it’s so dark.”

The man’s body is pressed too close to yours to see his face and you are left to stare out into the abyss of his blue umbra. It churns in a tight pocket around your joined bodies, sinking into any space that happens to be made so that no particle of air goes unclaimed by its dominion.

Even though the man is a complete stranger, being called his solum- his only-makes you bristle with pride. So far in your haze with him, you don’t pay attention to what you’re saying as you dip your own shadows into his jeans to engulf his hardening cock.

“It was forged in Summa Tenebris.” You breathe out.

Suddenly, he freezes and his breath stutters on your neck.

“You…” His shadows pull away as he pushes off of your shoulders to look at you. You’re pulled away from your stupor with the action and realize what you’ve just told him.

“You fought?”

“I was fifteen,” is your answer. You can’t look him in the eye as you say the words that confirm your participation in the war- one that tore a gaping hole into the Exspiravitian people- because you host the same guilt that you did all those years ago when you were a naive soldier.

The people were destroyed because of your extremist faction; you were lucky that you were spared simply because of how young you were, yet it was not enough to keep them from banishing you from Velum, your home.

Jimin’s shock goes unconcealed in the way his eyes darken with pity. “You were only a child.”

“I know.” You say, pulling him by the neck to return to your close proximity. “Let’s not worry about that right now.”

The man holds you differently now. You can feel the hesitation in the way his fingers curl into you. As if you would end him at any moment.

If you truly wanted to, you could.

It would be simple to release the darkness of Summa Tenebris upon him. It’s in your nature as a developed product of it.

The children who were just beginning to develop their umbras were forced into the war so that their shadows could pick off of the death around them. Absorbing the evil darkness from those slain was your mission. Your umbra would come to encompass so much evil that it would turn into the most lethal of shades inVelum.

Obsidian.

You were dealt the unfortunate hand of being one of the only surviving ones once Velum was able to put a stop to your force. Barely a handful of children made it through the Judgement and all of you were exiled from ever returning. It’s been so long that, even if you wanted to return, you don’t know how.

Jimin gradually returns his shadows to your body as the seconds pass, the feel of your pull on him too much to resist for very long. You slowly get back into the moment of fucking a stranger in a bathroom until, finally, he’s spinning you around, pressing your cheek up against the cool surface, and pulling your pants down to your thighs.

“You are dangerous to me, Exspiravit,” he says, slipping a hand down to roughly grab onto one of your ass cheeks. “But this ass is deadly.”

You scoff breathlessly, canting your hips back to press yourself into him. His shadows lick more adamantly into your cunt yet do not breach through. He teases and flirts with your entrance, knowing fully well that he cannot manifest himself to fuck you like that, and it drives you crazy.

“Then how about you fuck me before I kill you?”

Jimin presses the tip of his cock into your folds. “As you wish.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice as he dives inside.

The dive burns. You hiss through your teeth and jam your forehead into the cool metal of the stall for comfort, yet all you find is a harsh cold that makes you greet the reality of your hookup with Jimin.

His hips meet the flesh of your ass after only a few seconds. It feels like an eternity since he first moved forward but you know that it has only taken a small amount of moments to get there.

Yoursolumgrabs onto your neck and leans into you, pressing his nose into your temple as you raise your top lip into a snarl.

“Shit.” You growl when he gyrates his hips to better seat himself inside. “You’re pretty big.”

“Was made for you.” He whispers. “Was made to fuck this pussy.”

He rears back slowly, letting you feel just how many inches he speared you with as he leaves. The friction of his retreat on your pussy lips is absolutely insane and you just haveto lean back to return him to his previous depth.

Jimin’s hips surge forward again, but this time, there’s no break in movement that allows you the chance to adjust. Instead, the Ghost sets a brutally rough pace.

Your forehead occasionally thunks against the wall of the stall, your back arches painfully yet pleasingly, and your legs widen needily. You know there’s no way someone wouldn’t have a clear grasp of what is currently transpiring if they were to step inside the bathroom.

You should be ashamed really, but you can’t afford to dedicate time to such inconsequentialities when the man’s cock starts to constantly ram against the deepest spot in your cunt, making you see fucking stars every time you close your eyes.

But then, you remember Jimin’s impressive umbra. It swallows any sound made. Conceals any movement taken. Realistically, if anyone were to walk in on your little moment, they would merely see the bathroom stall rocking back and forth and think, hm, well that’s strange.

Unless they turned the lights on.

Turning the lights on would force Jimin’s shadows to retreat. They would stand no chance against the lights of this dimension, a drawback that comes with their hue not being completely black. It would reveal you, face harshly shoved against the wall and eyes glazed over with pleasure, as you took countless backshots from the blue-haired man.

You’d also have to restrain from pummeling them into fucking purgatory if they tried to interrupt your session with light.

Jimin’s hands are strong as he latches them onto your hips and you resort to grabbing the top of the stall to keep yourself upright when he uses the new leverage to force your body back into his momentum. His pull drives his dick even harder into the tightness of your pussy until his hips begin clapping against your ass so provocatively that you feel the burn of red on your cheeks become even hotter with sexual mortification.

“Fuck, Jimin,” You gasp his name before you can stop yourself.

He groans against your ear sinfully. “Yes, baby. Say my fucking name.”

You moan brokenly, caught between the pleasure of giving him what he wants and the thrill of keeping what he desires out of his grasp. It’s shameless to say his name so loud- frankly, it’s shameless that you’re saying his name at all given the fact that you’ve only just met him- but the way his hands hold you just a bit tighter and the press of his chest just a bit closer onto your back does things to you that you can’t seem to comprehend.

You dig your forehead into the stall to bite back the slight amount of pain that comes with the Ghost’s sharp movements. It also stops you from banging it too hard. At this rate, his strong thrusts could give you a concussion if you’re not careful.

Jimin’s hip stutter momentarily and his speed slows, signaling that his hurtle towards his climax will begin if he doesn’t slow down. He wants to savoryou.

“What’s your name?” His breaths are deep and fast from the effort he’s put into breaking your back.

You release the wall and place your hand back on his hip, pushing him away and out of you so that you can turn around to face him.

Quickly, you unclip your holsters and shimmy your pants down to the floor with thoughts of getting this over with in mind. You laugh in disbelief as you step out of them. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Your shadows encase him in their hold, pulling him to your body so that you can pull him back into you. When you look down, you almost forget how to breathe because of how delicious his dick looks, straining out from under his shirt and covered in your shiny slick.

He returns his hands to your hips and lifts, urging you to jump up. You follow his direction shortly after and lock your ankles behind his back.

“Because you are my solum.You are my only in this dimension.” Jimin sucks in air through his teeth as he lets his dick slide back into you. "You don’t have to hide your face from me.”

“Says you.” You crane your head back into the stall and revel in the feeling of your ass meeting his pelvis. Then, your clit rubs into his skin because of how deeply your body sucks him in.

No man has ever made you feel so full, so complete, and it’s a fullness that completely wipes you of common sense. A completion that penetrates so far that you can feel him in your heart.

You look down at where your bodies join and find that he does the same with eyes full of wonder. “Fuck, how can you fit all of me? This hasn’t-” His voice falters and his mouth lies agape whilst your walls involuntarily constrict around him for a moment. “Shit-this hasn’t happened before.”

Then, as if he’s just realized what you’ve said, he snaps his head up to look at you. His eyes pierce into you with a need to fill you. To fill your emptiness with him. To occupy all absence with presence. The look he gives you makes your toes curl and your breathing falter with anticipation. Those damned eyes.

“You don’t believe me?” He leans his body into yours and crushes you to the wall. “You don’t feel the singularity in your dustri?”

You grit your teeth in denial as he thrusts into you, shoving his dick into the wall of your womb like a promise. It demands to be noticed and addressed and persistently digs there to accompany his words to you.

“No.” You lie.

Because your pride won’t let you admit that you feel his umbra crowding the protective shell around your dustri like his dick adamantly presses into your cervix. It fights for any soft point on the surface, seeking a weakness to infiltrate and fill. He wants to take over your senses until you know nothing but him just like you did to him.

“Let me in.” He growls, pressing his teeth into the side of your neck where your tattoo lies. Then, he lowers his hands to the bottom of your ass and spreads it to allow him just the slightest bit more room. “Let me-” He rears back and returns with a punishingly deep stroke. “-In.”

Your thighs quiver, a motion set forth by the stab of the head of his dick into your fragility. It’s molten hot as you struggle to accommodate him gliding through your muscles and his umbra pressing forcefully against your dustri.

Tears collect in your eyes and you squeeze them shut in the fight to fend off the mindlessness. He deep strokes you passionately, roughly, and uses the slow rhythm as reprimand for your stubbornness.

His shadows crowd your vulnerable dustri, desperate to get inside, with such haste that you can physically feel them pouring like a torrent into your chest.

“Let me in. Let me see your face.” He whispers pleadingly.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opens and you whip your head to the sight of light pouring into the room. A silhouette takes a single step inside.

As if instinct takes over, your umbra bursts from within you and envelops the two of you. A maelstrom of darkness sweeps your senses and turns everything pitch black. Now that you have a hold on Jimin’s dustri, though, you are able to fully crowd him inside your dominion and pull him in with you.

Your back phases through the stall. Jimin follows as his fingers dig into your asscheeks.

A hum of environment licks against your skin as the man lets out a sound of shock and pulls back. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to be pulled into another Ghost’s dimension.

“Wha-how-” He stutters with wide eyes, dumbfounded.

“Summa Tenebris.” You answer him in a whisper, manipulating the small oblivion you have formed to keep your bodies separated from the light dimension.

The darkness cocoons you until you can see only him. As an extension of your being, it takes action when you do not, pressing against your backs and urging you into each other so that you can continue.

Jimin’s dick pulses against your insides with a newfound sense of privacy. No one will hear either of you now. You can make as much sound as you want without the risk of someone else feasting their eyes on your private moment. He does not further the conversation because he understands the magnitude of your power now.

“Let me in, me solum.” He breathes, although it is not with his voice that he says this. Your ears do not perceive the request because it is not audible. The sound of it does not pass through the pocket of space in your limitless darkness. Instead, his emotions tell you his request in a language you are all too familiar with.

Your eyes roll back in complete bliss as his dustri washes over your being. The darkness of Summa Tenebris vibrates with his energy coursing through it and it makes the surrounding area of your dimension fizzle with built-up power. His lips stay fused to your skin as he resumes his heavy pace into your body.

His voice is almost broken with effort. “Please.”

For the first time in years, you speak your mother tongue comfortably because it is the only way to get him to understand. You are buried so far in the throes of his passion that you can’t find enough focus to think of your past.

“It is too dangerous, Ghost.“ You gasp. "I cannot open myself to you.”

He cocks his head in concern and responds to you in the same dialect, slowing his pace. “Why, my only? Who else do you belong to that you cannot give yourself to me?”

Your instincts tell you to run. To shove the two of you back into the light dimension, pull your pants up, and leave him there so that you can avoid putting anyone in danger. You cannot tell him that you hold yourself back because you cannot risk Namjoon’s cover.

But his body inside yours, his blazing hot skin setting yours alight, his dustri willingly flowing through your bloodstream- the sensations keep you grounded in your oblivion and fused to him like an addicting drug that has hooked you for life. He is increasingly difficult to resist.

“You cannot know.” You say, your tongue curling around the Exspiravitian words like you never went a day without speaking it.

The language itself holds power within its articulation. The syllables carry a great energy that flows into instant understanding. Knowing his heartbreak with his question breaks you too, but him knowing why you cannot tell him sets the empathy in so fast that he seems to nod into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

He sighs, continuing his deliberate rhythm into your body as if he isn’t having a full conversation with you. “You are afraid the knowledge will hurt me.”

Jimin says the statement with disbelief, illuminating how preposterous the sentiment is to him. He wants to know you so that he may carry the burden of your identity alongside you. He believes that he can protect you from the secrets that you carry, but he is dead wrong.

You are the First Protector of the Cypher of Bangtan. You must protect Namjoon above anyone else.

“The knowledge will hurt you.” You breathe the sentence out haggardly as your pussy clenches around him more frequently. Your orgasm gradually approaches. “Do not get any closer.”

Suddenly, his dustri changes. You dig your nails into his back as he withdraws it from your dark clutches and pulls it back within his chest. You desperately grapple to hold onto it, yet his connection with his own dustri is too strong for you to maintain your possession of it.

Completely devoid of Jimin’s dustri yet overridden with his umbra, you wheeze weakly at the loss of his power in your dominion.

Ever so slowly, the two of you are brought back to the light dimension. You are powerful enough to maintain your own presence within your dimension, but without his dustri channeling more strength into your umbra, you can’t hope to maintain him with you. You’re left no choice but to follow with him physically connected to you.

The bathroom stall returns to your back, cold and hard as a harsh reminder that he withdrew his energy from you. Still, though, he longdicks you like he has a personal vendetta against you. You clutch onto him for dear life as your back shifts up and down the metal with each shcluck of his cock into your cunt.

“Youwillopen yourself to me.” He bites in English. No longer is the conversation intimate enough for the Exspiravitian tongue. “I will have you one day, Ghost.”

The lights to the bathroom have been turned on since your speedy escape from it, however, the person who occupied it before has since left.

In the light of reality, you feel the final moments of your buildup to your climax.

“How can you be so sure?” You almost yell out the question as his hips smash into your thighs and your belly pools with molten pleasure.

“Because,” His smile is devious and his arm maneuvers into the space between your bodies to land a thumb to your clit. The contact is loving compared to the force in his hips. “My mark will miss me too much.”

Even as he says the words, you find the pulsing of his mark over your sternum shocking. Somehow, within the last few minutes of your feverish fucking, he has implanted a sliver of his umbra into your tattooed skin to awaken it. It throbs throughout your body until it reaches down to where his thumb beckons for it on your clit.

With a choked gasp, you cum on his dick sharply.

Your nails rake into his shoulders and back as your spine bows your body into him, mark crying with the need to come into contact with him. It begs to be returned to the casing he has shielded his dustri with, but he pushes back against it to keep it embedded in your skin. Your body trembles and your muscles clench on him like a heavenly prison, yet he does not falter until his dick throbs in your vice.

“Fuck.” He whines. “Fuck.”

Jimin wraps his arms around you and presses himself close, using his arms as a means of keeping you locked against him while he empties himself inside of you. You have the fleeting thought that it is dangerous to be having sex with him unprotected- dustrial soulmates in your world are infamous when it comes to unplanned pregnancies after the first meeting- yet you quickly decide that you’ll make a stop at the pharmacy by your home to pick up a Plan B just to be safe.

The aftermath of your hookup sinks in as the seconds in Jimin’s embrace pass by. His skin is damp as he presses his forehead to your equally sweaty neck so that he can take a moment to catch his breath. You tip your head back into the stall and slow your breathing as well, taking the moment to stare at the ceiling with instant regret.

The door to the bathroom opens again yet you do not have the strength to pull Jimin into your dimension anymore. As the man walks in, you do your best to create a shadowed wall between the stranger and the two of you.

Jimin’s hold on your waist freezes as he sees the situation unfold right before his very eyes.

“Jimin?” The man calls. “You in here, bro?”

Because of your umbra, he cannot see either of you, but the sound waves produced by the man’s voice cause it to shudder weakly.

When he receives no answer, he leaves and the door swings shut.

“Your shadows can stay in the light?” He asks the question with his mouth agape in shock.

“It took years.” You reply. “Now get off of me and take your mark.”

He loosens his grip and lets you stand again so that you can put your pants and tactical belts back on.

In your hurry, you don’t notice that Jimin fixes his clothes back into place slowly because of his distracted stare on you.

“Your lips are pretty.” He whispers.

Immediately, you pull your shadows back over your face, unaware that you somehow revealed more of it to him.

But, yet again, it’s too late. He’s seen your eyes and lips due to your weakness for him and now it will be easier for him to identify you. It will be easier for him to see you even with your face fully concealed. Because he knows more of your face, your power has become more useless against him.

“I’m going to leave now.” You grunt. “Take your mark back.”

Jimin freezes for a moment, standing awkwardly, silently. He’s hesitating.

He inhales slowly, watching you fumble with the clasp to your gun belt, before puffing out a quiet ‘no.’

If he doesn’t take his mark from your body, he’ll be able to track you. An Exspiravitian mark has a mind of its own and maneuvers on its own accord. You can’t do your work properly if you have a parasitewithin your flesh.

“What? Take this shit back, boyscout.”

“I don’t want to.” He deadpans. His eyes are pensive.

You scoff and grab him by the front of his shirt, yanking him to you with your teeth bared.

“You see the tattoo on my neck; you see that I am Cypher. You wouldn’t dareleave that shit on me.”

Ever so slowly, Jimin’s poker face melts into a grin so smug that you would’ve smacked him if you didn’t have control over your anger.

“Oh, but I would,Ghost.” He lets his hand come up to encircle your wrist as you clutch his shirt tighter.

“I won’t take it back until you are mine.”

(Namjoon x Reader) Oneshot, Established relationship, Family!au
Ft. side Sope and kids Seokjin Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook

Genre: (PG13) Fluff, Domestic, Kid Fic

Warnings: None!

WC: 1.4k

Description: Just an average day with your husband, kids, and best friends and their kids. 

A/N: The title sucks. I will (hopefully) revise it later lol. A last minute entry (a tad late, oops lol) for the @btscreatorscorner​ Secret Valentine event! My Valentine was @bluewhale52​ ! When asking about preferences, I got that she (I hope that’s right, I didn’t see any indication of pronouns but based on your works, I assumed :x Please tell me if I’m wrong, and I’ll adjust the fic to fit too!) is more hyung-line biased, particularly rap line. And loves their interactions with maknae line. So. KID FIC. I could have probably done a better job if it didn’t take me until literally last week to come up with this concept and that long to get around to finishing it lol. But I hope you still like it!

Also, this is a one-shot but I adore kid fics (despite this one being my first) so if anyone requests drabbles for these families, I am not opposed to writing more!

“Yoongi said they’re on their way,” your husband whispered to you as you.

“It should probably be safe to tell them now, right?” you suggested, referring to your twin five-year-olds who were currently playing a game of make-believe. What kind, was impossible to tell. The two communicated on a level that was too themfor you or anyone else to decipher.

You were scared of the day that they would speak in a secret language you would never be able to interpret—an inevitability rather than possibility.

“Yeah, probably,” Namjoon said somewhat hesitantly. “They’re only ten minutes away. Theoretically.”

You chuckled, thinking about the time when Jungkook refused to leave the car because he, for some unknown reason, insisted that he just had to bring ice cream to share with Jimin and Taehyung. Which had delayed the family’s arrival by half an hour and left you with toddlers who were too excited for their own good, resulting in even more chaos than usual.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for the amount of excitement that was about to explode out of your children. You sat yourself on the floor next to where they were playing, Jimin not hesitating even a second to plop himself down in your lap without stopping their game at all. Your babies were very affectionate and you soaked in every second of it.

You kissed the crown of his head before giving them the news. “If I may interrupt you two for just a moment,” you began, and just like that all their attention was on you. They were so attentive, despite how lost in their own world they could become. “We’re going to be having company over tonight.”

“Is Kookie coming over?!” Taehyung yelled excitedly, dropping the doll he had been using as a prop.

“Yes, Kookie is coming over,” Namjoon said, crouching down next to you. “And so are Jinnie hyung and Uncle Hobi and Uncle Yoongi.”

Jimin jumped out of your lap to yell excitedly and jump around with his brother, an action that for sure would have lost you some health points if you hadn’t preemptively tilted your head backwards, having predicted the movement ahead of time.

You watched as your husband smiled fondly at the two. “You’d think it’s been months since they’ve seen him, rather than just days,” he said.

Your boys absolutely adored little Jungkook and always became excited whenever they’d get to see him. The two of you learned rather quickly that it was best to not say anything to them until the family was on their way to prevent them from anticipating too much and spending all their energy on excitement too early.

Yoongi and Hoseok have been close friends to you and Namjoon for the longest time. They attended your wedding—although they were still ignoring their feelings for each other at that time—and were your go-to babysitters when you needed someone in a pinch. Eventually, spending so much time with your precious boys gave them so much baby fever, they decided to adopt.

Although adopting a pair of brothers hadn’t been even remotely in their plans, they hadn’t stood a chance as soon as they met Seokjin and Jungkook. As soon as the couple met the two boys, they were all they could talk about. The orphanage was honest with them about the chances of the two brothers staying together being low because of their age gap and Seokjin had been so caring and protective toward his baby brother, they couldn’t stand to see them part.

A year and a half later, the two have blended seamlessly into all of your lives.

“Why don’t you both go pick out some toys to play with Jungkook?” you suggested, attempting to redirect their energy into something other than yelling and jumping.

Jimin gasped. “Yes, yes! Taetae, let’s get Kookie’s favorites! The cars and-”

“The dolls!” Taehyung finished. The two’s voices faded as they left down the hallway to their room.

You took the opportunity to continue working on dinner while Namjoon cleaned up the living area as much as he could. Although you knew there would be no judgement about toys being strewn around, you didn’t exactly want your friends to trip as soon as they walked in.

It wasn’t long before they arrived, the doorbell ringing through the house also summoning your five-year-olds to come running down the hall.

Namjoon and yourself each held onto one of your children so they could enter without any obstacles, but once they saw Jungkook being carried in Yoongi’s arms, they wriggled their way out of your grip to greet their best friend.

Luckily, they had (mostly) made it into the doorway by then. Your boys knew their manners well enough to make sure to say hello to everyone, but rushed through their greetings, clearly excited to play with Jungkook. The four-year-old had also managed to worm his way out of Yoongi’s hold as well, and it wasn’t long before the three little ones were making their way down the hall.

“It’s almost like they don’t love us anymore,” Hoseok pouted as he neatly placed his shoes by the door.

“You know they’ll come back to play with us later,” Yoongi shrugged off.

After your own greetings, you went back into the kitchen to finish making the food while the rest of the boys sat in the living room to chat. It wasn’t long before Seokjin appeared in the doorway, shuffling his feet and looking hesitant.

“Hey, Seokjin,” you greeted with a smile, walking towards the young teen. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, Aunt Y/n.” He not-so-subtly glanced toward where you were cooking, but didn’t say anything, avoiding eye contact.

Something you learned very quickly about the boy was that he had trouble asking for things that he wanted. You never asked about his past family, not wanting to invade his privacy, but that didn’t stop you from wondering if something had happened to make him so shy. When he opened up, he was a firecracker and his smile could light up a room. But it always took him some time to get to that point.

“Would you like to help?”

He finally met your gaze, eyes wide and hopeful. “Can I?” he hesitantly asked.

“Of course you can, sweetie.”

Back in the living room, it sounded like the three young ones already got tired of playing by themselves and decided to include your husband and friends in their playtime as well. The happy squeals of Jungkook being picked up by Namjoon, who was unsurprisingly dubbed the giant monster, and the subsequent yells of your twins to ‘Give him back!’ and recruiting the other two for help put a smile on your face.

Seokjin didn’t play with the little ones too much, which had initially worried you. Even with the seven-to-eight year age gap, you’d expected him to want to try to engage with them a little more. It didn’t take all too long to learn that he was a little more subdued, preferred to watch over the chaos and only enter when invited, rather than be a part of it.

This wasn’t the first time he had an interest to help you out in the kitchen—Namjoon would help if he wasn’t banned due to his clumsiness—and the teen’s presence was incredibly welcome. He seemed very comfortable in this kind of environment, and it made your motherly side very satisfied to give him a place to feel that. He may not be yours necessarily, but Yoongi and Hoseok were family, so of course Seokjin was as well.

Dinner and the rest of the night went just as it usually was when everyone was together. Lots of chatting, laughing, and fake arguments. After, everyone gathered in the living room with even more laughter and the beautiful sounds of giggles and sound effects of the kids playing. Eventually, even Seokjin got dragged in and rightfully so was given a role of protecting Jungkook in whatever fantasy scenario the twins were cooking up this time.

Before you knew it, it had gotten pretty late. It wasn’t the first time that everyone ended up staying the night, time having gotten away from all of you. It didn’t matter—as far as you were all concerned, everyone here was family no matter where they came from. Everyone was here now, and that was what mattered.

Putting the kids to sleep with smiles on their faces, your stomach and heart full, you felt nothing in the world could make you happier.

A/N: Ugh I could have done that better, especially the ending XD But oh well, it is what it is lol. I tried not to make it super long because I need to stop doing that lol.

If you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :)

You can also check out my Etsy shop for BTS inspired charms as well!

Min Yoongi x reader | Single Parent | Fluff | PG | wc: 1100

For this year’s Secret Valentien project by @btscreatorscorner​  I was assigned the lovely @sunshinerainbowsbts so hereby I present my gift to you, Sunny (Even if its a little late). 

Beta read by @rkivian​ and@mapleglasses27

|MASTERLIST|​

The sun had truly shown itself from its better side today, having peeked through the clouds ever since the early morning hours and warming the chilled winter air. Maybe it too understood the importance of this day. Well, the importance it held for some.

And even though this  was easily  the day your boutique made most of its earnings, you could not help but dread  the day. In itself, the day was hectic at best, but the days up to it were just as chaotic because of all the preparations you had to do. It was also the reason why you were currently running on minimal amounts of sleep.

Fortunately for you, the amount of customers seemed to be decreasing ever so slowly, making it possible for you to finally take a small break. Your tired legs almost buckled under you as you leaned against the counter, eyes darting around the shop.

Finally alone.

“What a day…” you sighed, closing your eyes only for them to shoot open in shock when you suddenly heard the all too familiar sound of the chime on top of the door, warning you that someone had entered the shop. You straightened your back and looked over at the door, but there was no one there.

Maybe, your mind was playing tricks on you? It would not be the first time nor would it be the last time it had done so. But that thought was shot down when your ears picked up on footsteps coming toward you. The steps were hesitant and came to a sudden stop, you held your breath; Fear striking.

Seconds passed before you heard a whimper, immediately you jumped up from the chair and rushed toward the sound. Your eyes darted around, trying to locate the source of the noise. However, it seemed that the source itself had other plans because as you stepped around the counter, something or rather someone tugged at your pant leg.

Chubby fingers clung to the fabric of your pants, their snotty little nose buried in your leg and big doe and teary eyes looking up at you like you held the answers to the world.

“A-app-” The child hiccupped, pressing themself even further onto you.

Without even thinking, you had swiped the child up into your arms and started to comfort them. “Shhh, I am right here,” you murmured, your voice soothing and soft while caressing their hair to provide the comfort they so desperately needed.

As the sobs subsided, the child pulled back and looked at you. Finally, you took the time to look over the child; A mop of dark hair paired with big doe eyes, a cute little button nose sprinkled with freckles and chubby cheeks that matched the chubby legs and arms every child that age should have. They wore a beige dress with small hearts on.

A beautiful little girl.

“Hey there pretty little lady”

The girl let out a squeak and pressed her head into your chest again. You could not help but giggle. A few seconds went by before she peaked up at you from her ‘hiding’ spot.

“Appa.. no appa,” she stuttered, falling over her words in her attempt to communicate with you. You nodded your head knowingly, understanding what she tried to tell you. Your eyes flicked over to the shop windows, but were only met with the darkness from outside.

A sigh passed your lips; this was going to be difficult.

“Would you like some chocolate milk?” you asked, already moving toward the machine as the girl started nodding her head rapidly. Another giggle passed your lips at how cute she looked, her hair tossing around her head and a little pout on her lips.

You settled the girl on the counter and gave her a cup. She wrapped both of her hands around it, moving it up toward her lips before taking a big sip. When she moved the cup away, she let out an ‘ah!” while smacking her lips.

“Does the pretty little lady have a name?”

“Yejun” She answered proudly, puffing out her chest.

“Hello Yejun” you said and introduced yourself, offering your hand to her with a smile. She took your hand into her much smaller one and gave it a light squeeze before going back to sipping on her chocolate milk.

Yejun seemed much more at ease with her chocolate milk in hand even though her father was still missing. Luckily enough it was not long before your eyes caught sight of a frantic looking man outside of the shop windows. The two of you locked eyes for only a split second before his eyes flicked to the child in front of you.

“Yejun! Thank God!” The man ripped open the door and ran toward Yejun, who was making grabby hands toward the man while crying “appa”.

He frantically pulled Yejun into his arms and held her against him tightly for a few moments, before sitting her down on the counter again: “Are you okay?” he was fidgeting over her, feeling and searching for anything that might not have been there before their sudden separation.

Fortunately, he found nothing.

He heaved a sigh of relief and planted a kiss on her forehead, then he turned around to face you.

“Thank you so much for finding Yejun!” He thanked you before beginning to ramble about how she had suddenly disappeared from one moment to another.

You could not help but notice that Yejun’s dad was just as handsome as she was cute. She had inherited his dark hair and cute button nose, but what really made your knees bent was the gummy smile he showed as he looked at his child.

“I understand. Children are hard work, but Yejun has been nothing but an angel,” you assured the man with a gentle touch on his arm.

His eyes lightened up when you complimented his child, chest filling with pride that even in such a highly emotional situation his little girl had been polite.  

“Still..-” He started but stopped when Yejun tugged at his shirt, the man bending down toward her and she whispered something into his ear. He let out a soft ‘ah’ before straightening himself up.

This time when he looked at you, you could not help but notice the light glint he had in his dark eyes.

“Can Yejun and I invite you out for a cup of coffee?” He asked confidently. However, the sudden confidence seemed to diminish as fast as it had come when you did not reply immediately. “Of course only if-”

You touched his arm, making him halter in his sentence. You gave him a shy smile.

“That sounds wonderful, let me just close the shop.”

I choose the prompt: Kid playing matchmaker because who isn’t a sucker for diff BTS?

OT7 x reader | Fantasy | Hybrid | Slice of life | Romance | 18+ | wc: 3400

╰ You leave the stress of everyday life for a simple life in the woods, but apparently, you aren’t the only one who wanted to get away. The goal? To find yourself. And maybe each other along the way.

⟶ warnings: Sadness, talk about death. 

Banner made by the @papillonsgf​.

Beta read by the @moccahobi​ and @taetaesbaebaepsae​ thanks to both of you.

|MASTERLIST|​

Previous|Series | Next |

He gave you a small nod, walking over to the bar cart in the far corner of the office before grabbing what you assumed to be a water bottle and poured it into two glasses. He strode back to the desk, placing one of the glasses in front of you before taking a seat. He took a sip of water and turned to you with a gentle smile.

“Let us begin then.”

The conversation had started out rather dull. Mr. Wang simply went over the legal rights regarding the will while reminding you to ask, if you had any questions. When you stayed silent, he let out a deep sigh to prepare himself for whatever he was about to tell. It scared you a little. You had never seen him act nervous. But when he began speaking again, you suddenly understood why.  

As soon as Mr. Wang spilled the will’s details, your jaw dropped. Your mind was overworking as it tried to comprehend what you had just been told, but you could not. It did not make any sense.

“Are-” you swallowed the lump in your throat “-are you sure this is what the will says?”

His eyes narrowed and you flinched in your seat, eyes darting down to your lap before he replied sternly, “do I have to remind you, miss Yun? That I have never lied or deceived you, or anyone from the Yun clan for that matter.”

“I-… It just seems too good to be true,” you muttered and unknowingly began to pick at your nails, pulling at the hangnails around them. Had you been out of line? you wondered, but before you could linger too long on your mistake Mr. Wang offered to show you the will. Immediately you nodded your head, not knowing what to expect. Not really.

He settled his briefcase on the desk, opened it, and pulled out some papers. He offered them to you and with timid hands, you took them from him. 

Your eyes darted over the words repeatedly, eyes widening as you began to understand what the papers said. Mr. Wang had told you the truth: Jihoon and Soobin had indeed left you a property near the countryside of a town you had never heard of before. Furthermore, they had also left a hefty amount of money to you.

“It is true” you murmured while your fingers skimmed over the signatures of your adoptive parents. You remember a few years ago when you had gone to the bank with Jihoon and you had been taken back by how beautiful his signature was. You had asked – no – begged for him to teach you. He had finally agreed in exchange for you to help make dinner that day. As the memory faded you quickly wiped your eyes with your sleeve.

“Good. Then I only have to ask you whether you wish to sell the property or keep it”

“I-I am not quite sure” you stuttered, it all was too much. You could not wrap your mind around it. They lived such a simple life in a one-story house within walking distance to their flower boutique where both of them worked. You would never have guessed that they had that kind of money.  

When you had somewhat gathered your thoughts you took a deep inhale and then asked in a timid voice, “Could I get some time to think?”

Your eyes locked with Mr. Wang’s, who had a small smile on his face as he nodded his head in understanding, “Of course. I will take care of the estate until you have decided. Is that okay?”

You nodded your head furiously. It was more than okay. You already knew that you would not have it in you to have anything to do with it until after you had decided what to do.

“I only need your signature here,” he showed where you had to sign, then handed you a pen. Your eyes darted over the contract, making sure that you understood what you were about to put your signature on. You let out a sigh before putting pen to paper and signing the contract.

“Terrific. That will be all for today miss Yun”

You rose from the chair and bowed to him, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Wang.”

As you had taken a hold on the door handle a firm hand landed on your shoulder, making you stop in your tracks and turn around. Somehow Mr. Wang had left his seat without you hearing him and was now standing behind you.

“Please do not contact the Yuns biological children.” He said firmly, however his eyes were filled with sympathy. You wanted to ask why but held your tongue. You were already physically and mentally drained.

You just wanted to go home.

“I promise.” You whispered, before taking your leave.

You went back to work shortly after the conversation with Mr. Wang and had found somewhat of a routine: wake up, work, sleep and then repeat. It was only temporary until you had decided what to do with the new information you had gotten.

Today was one of the days where you woke up a little later than normal, having hit the snooze button twice or thrice before leaving the comfort of your bed. Luckily for you, you had found the clothes you would be wearing today - another thing you had learned from Jihoon and Soobin. However, you were still late and it irritated you to no end.

After having tugged on the clothes which you had laid out the day before, a sudden grumble came from your stomach, causing your gaze to dart around until it locked up on the wall clock. You did not have time to eat. Actually, you had to leave your apartment now if you wanted to be on time.

You left the apartment, slamming the door shut, and began the fifteen-minute walk toward your workplace. You tried to ignore the rumbling from your stomach which disagreed with your decision to skip breakfast (again). However, the rumbling continued and became louder and louder until you no longer could ignore it, making you take a right turn and walk into a café.

With a coffee in one hand and a half-eaten bagel in the other, you entered the office building. Despite still feeling irritated from your late awakening and sudden coffee stop, you still muttered a friendly ‘hello’ here and there.

You settled into your spot near the window and wiggled out of your jacket. You took a short moment to collect yourself by sipping on your coffee. Then you cracked your fingers and stretched your back before getting to work; opening up whatever excel sheet you had worked on earlier in the week. You were on autopilot: clicking away on the keyboard, totally oblivious to anything that was going around you.

When out of the corner of your eye you noted a red notification had appeared. You clicked on it and a new window opened, displaying an email from your manager, Mr. Choi. You frowned a bit. Weird. You did not have any deadlines – that you were sure of. The email did not sound at all how Mr. Choi normally wrote, it seemed too urgent and demanding. He wanted to see you now.

As you walked toward your manager’s office, you noticed several of your colleagues talking quietly. One or two of them looked at you, but none spoke. You could sense that something was off.

Even the secretary seemed to know something you did not, she could barely utter a smile. “He is already waiting for you, miss.”

You knocked twice before slowly opening the door and peeked inside to find Mr. Choi at his desk with a serious, almost stern look on his face.

“You wanted to see me, sunbaenim” You took a small step into the office room, eyes locked upon Mr. Choi, searching for a change in his demeanor – a flicker of a smile or something. However, none came. Instead, he looked just as stern – if not more.

“Take a seat”

“Okay” you whispered mostly to yourself, then walked with timid steps towards Mr. Choi. 

You settled down in the chair in front of him, acutely aware of the discomfort that was spreading through the room. Your eyes flicked down to your lap and noticed you had already begun fidgeting with your fingers. In an attempt to seem more collected, you folded your hands and stared at them, avoiding Mr. Choi’s gaze.

Moments went by without anyone speaking, the only thing that could be heard was the breathing from the two of you. You waited for a little longer, still anticipating him to speak, but when none came, you slowly lifted your gaze. Mr. Choi was pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling noisily.

“Sunbaenim?” you asked in a timid voice, a little scared of what was going on inside his head. You had never seen him like this. Not even once through the three years, you had worked here had he ever looked so… gloomy.

As you opened your mouth to repeat yourself, Mr. Choi put up a finger to his lips to betoken silence, and then spoke “Tell me, how has work been lately?”

You could not help but stare at the man, dumbfounded. Why would he even care to ask that? Scratch that. How would he even know that anything was wrong? If anything was wrong that is.

You were about to answer with the all too familiar answer: fine, but you stopped yourself when your eyes locked with his. His gaze intensified as if he stared into your soul.

“And be honest.”

Your eyes darted around, not quite sure what they were looking for. Maybe just an escape from the intense gaze of Mr. Choi. Your gaze landed on your lap once again, but this time they stayed there as you tried to gather your thoughts.

How had work been lately? It had not been on your mind until Mr. Choi had brought it up. But now, your mind was overworking itself to find an answer.

It was true that you had felt… different, since the sudden appearance of that attorney, Mr. Wang, at your workplace. And the last meeting did not help either. It had left you with even more questions – and doubt.

And now Mr. Choi had awakened even more doubt in you.

Were you even happy at your work? You had been – or at least you thought so, but as you were seated in front of Mr. Choi you could not help but wonder: Were you happy though? It was not what you dreamed of, but it paid the bills and the job itself was fine (and to be honest, you probably could not find a job with nearly as good a pay with your experience).

Maybe it was time for you to be honest?

“I-I suppose it could go better,” you cringed internally as you heard your own words and immediately tried to correct yourself, “but I am certain it will get better soon enough.”

As you finished your sentence your eyes found their way back to Mr. Choi, who regarded you with a slightly tilted head and a raised eyebrow. He did not seem to believe your words either.

“Unfortunately, your work performance suggests otherwise and has done for quite some time.”

You were shocked and hurt. You thought you had done what was needed from you, but it seemed you were wrong. It had been going downhill for longer than you had thought.

“You have been with us for quite some time and I – and the rest of the company greatly appreciate the time you have spent working with us, but unfortunately we have to let you go,”

You were never good enough, a voice hissed.

“I understand,” you muttered sadly after a short moment, eyes darting around until they locked onto his face. His eyes were locked on you, they were filled with pity and empathy.

“I have some documents you have to sign and thereafter you can take the rest of the time off.”

You were feeling defeated: Nothing you could say would make him change his mind, so you simply nodded your head.

The feeling of defeat lingered as you walked out of Mr. Choi’s office having signed whatever documents that were needed for your resignation, and started the short but tortures walk towards your desk. You could feel the burning eyes from your colleagues – or should you say, former colleagues?

In a quick manner, you collect the few personal belongings that had found their way to your desk through the times. Then, you looked at the now naked desk and let out a soft ‘bye’. 

To whom? You were not sure of. To the desk? The office? The colleagues? Maybe, it was a farewell to it all.  

You walked out of the building with your head hung low, not wanting to meet the eyes of your former colleagues; you could hear the murmurs run through the office.

You slammed the door shut to your apartment and leaned against it. You could not hold in the annoyed grunt that escaped your mouth as you closed your eyes.

A moment went by like that: enjoying the comfort of the darkness and silence that the room offered. But even in the silence, your mind was working on overdrive trying to comprehend what had happened.

You had just been fired.

What were you supposed to do now? You did not know anything else in this city. The job had been the whole reason for why you had moved in the first place –and now, you did not even have that.  

Soon enough you would not even have money for that. How were you supposed to be paying your bills? –To be living? You had to find a new job, did you not? But you already had a hard time finding a job when you first came to the city, and to find a new one with the lack of education you had, would be a challenge. You were sure of it.

You pushed yourself away from the door with a heavy humph. Your fingers found your temples and messaged them in tight circles.

What were you supposed to do? 

You wanted to scream but held your tongue. Instead, your eyes darted around your room in an attempt to find – something – to get these negative and nagging thoughts out of your head.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of the white envelope that the attorney had given you, still sealed shut. You had not felt the need to open it, but now - now it seemed to be calling your name. And who were you to deny it? You certainly did not have the energy for that after the day you had.

So with two quick steps, you snatched the envelope and ripped it open. Then you took out the content and flicked through it; some photographs and a folded paper. So with trembling hands, you unfolded the paper and immediately, recognizing the handwriting, Soobin.

You took a shaky breath, eyes taking in the first line of the letter. It started with the customary ‘Dear _____,’. However, it was the next line that brought tears to your eyes, ‘You are reading this letter because Jihoon and I have died.’

You had to stop yourself from continuing, overwhelmed by a sudden pressure on your chest; the frustration of having lost your job, but mostly the overwhelming feeling of grief and sorrow. You blinked away the unshed tears, and instead, you focused on the photographs you held, flipping through them until you stopped at a picture.

It was a beautiful photo. 

It was of Jihoon and you helping each other by carrying a cardboard box out to the car. It was the day of your move to the big city. The elderly man was looking at you with crinkled eyes and a smile. You remember how amused he had been because you had done the one thing he explicitly told you not to do, not to fill the box with too much. – And you had done just that. Your head was thrown back and you could almost hear the laughter which resonated out of you.

The corner of your lips tugged up in a small smile, still feeling suffocated by the sorrow.

Your heart arched both with happiness because of the memory, but also sadness. Sadness at knowing that you no longer could make those kinds of memories and that it would only be just that – memories. So with the back of your sleeve, you wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall.

You took a moment to calm yourself before flipping through the last few photographs, stopping at one particular. It was different from the others. Older; it was black and white, and blurry.  Still, you could easily see a couple embracing with smiles on their faces, totally oblivious to the world around them.

Your face flushed, feeling like you were intruding on something you were not to see, however, you could not take your eyes from the photo.

The longer you stared, the more you realized who they were - a younger version of Jihoon and Soobin. They were looking into each other’s faces, holding each other as if their life depended on it (something you had seen yourself in real life). They stood with their arms around each other in front of a small brick house and in the background, you could hint out what may be a forest. However, that was all you could see because of how blurry the image was: the figures and lines blurring into one another.

Your fingers brushed against their blurred figures. You wanted to touch them just one more time.

A tear splashed onto the photograph. You had not even realized you were crying until that moment. Quickly you wiped your eyes, not quite understanding your feelings. 

Were you crying because of grief? That you no longer would be able to see and touch them again. Would every past memory be tainted because of them being gone so suddenly? – or could it be that for some strange reason you felt happy. A strange emotion to be feeling at a time like this. A time when you should be grieving.

You had to sit down.

After finally sitting down, throwing the letter and photographs onto the table, the tears had free rein: rolling down your cheeks while you sobbed. You tried to stop the sounds coming from you by biting down on your hand. It somewhat muffled the sobs.

But your mind. Your mind was working on overdrive and kept going even as you cried your eyes out, trying to make sense of what was happening and what it all meant.

They were gone. That was the reality, was it not? You would never see them again. That you knew. But… you did not even get to say your farewell to them. Their biological children made sure of that –Why?

And what did the photographs mean? They had to mean something. They looked happy in the photos, were they happy before they died? You hoped so. They deserved happiness even in their last seconds

— Actually, especially in their last seconds on this earth.

What were you to do now?

Hmph, the older photograph had to have a deeper meaning, right? Jihoon and Soobin surely had not simply given to you for no reason. Could it? No.

It had to mean something, right?

—But what?

Your tears seemed to slowly stop, so with a hand you wiped your tear-streaked face, flinching slightly in the process: Your face was sore and puffy.

A few moments went by in silence, only your rapid breathing could be heard and a soft humming sound echoing through the apartment. You let out a heavy sigh and ran your fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. Your eyes locked upon the content, thrown carelessly on the table.

You took a deep breath and reached for the content, your fingers brushed against the paper. You could easily feel the folds and dents from the pencil where Soobin had pressed a little too hard.

You could not help but clench your jaw when you started reading the letter again. Your eyes ran over the words that were slightly blurry, slowly a heartwarming smile stretched over your face. You had to blink rapidly to stop the tears that threatened to fall again.

The photograph was indeed meaningful. A reminder of them and the love they shared, but also a reference to the estate that they had left you.

It was bittersweet: It pained you yet it was the perfect opportunity for you now. An opportunity to start again.

A new beginning.

OT7 x reader | Fantasy | Hybrid | Slice of life | Romance | 18+ | wc: 3100 out of 7300

╰ You leave the stress of everyday life for a simple life in the woods, but apparently, you aren’t the only one who wanted to get away. The goal? To find yourself. And maybe each other along the way.

⟶ warnings: Sadness, anxiety- and panic attacks, talk about death and cursing.

Banner made by the @papillonsgf​.

Beta read by the @moccahobi​ and @hoebii​, thanks to both of you. Truly.

|MASTERLIST|​ 

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You could not remember how - or when for that matter, you had arrived home after you had been informed of the sudden passing of your foster parents. The only thing you remembered was how you had walked mindlessly around while the lawyer, Mr. Wang’s, words kept echoing in your head, a dark reminder of how you had not known of their passing before fourteen days had already gone by.

You had a hard time believing what Mr. Wang had told you, he must have been pulling a joke on you. A cruel one. They could not be dead. They simply could not. Even as you tried to contact them via phone and they did not answer, your mind kept coming up with alternative reasons for why: Maybe they were on vacation or had forgotten theír phones somewhere - it would not have been the first time. However, as hours went by the relation of the situation settled in, and you cried.

They were gone.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to control the tears which were streaming down your face as your knees buckled under the mental and physical strain, collapsing onto the hardwood floor.

The pressure around your chest increased, making it hard for you to breathe.

Once again, it was as if someone was strangling you - or holding you underwater. No matter how hard you tried, you could not catch a breath.

For a short moment, your vision darkened, then flashed with a collage of heartbreaking memories. Memories that now felt empty without them. Your first time meeting Jihoon and Soobin outside of their flower shop, the day they invited you into their home, and the first time they told you that they loved you. The last time you had been more than one around the dining table, enjoying a home-cooked meal and the room was filled with love and laughter. You screamed as the memories blurred and darkness once again took over.

When your vision returned, your breathing had steadied slightly but your lungs were still burning, aching for oxygen. With what little energy you had left, you sought comfort in yourself; bending your upper body toward your legs and tucking your head in between them. You tried to remember the breathing technique you had learned earlier in life before Jihoon and Soobin came into your life.

It took a few tries before you had figured it out. Inhaling through your nose and holding it for a few seconds, and then exhaling through your mouth ever so slowly.  Breath in through the nose, hold it, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, hold it for a moment, and then exhale through the mouth. You kept repeating until your breathing settled down and the burn in your lungs had subsided.

You no longer had any energy left in you, your eyes twitched until darkness consumed you once again.

The following days had passed by without you noticing. You could not remember much of what you had been doing the days after your mental breakdown. You only remember the overwhelming feeling of distress and hopelessness.

However, today seemed slightly better than the day before - and the day before that, and the one before that one too. It might have been because you had actually gotten a full night’s sleep without any form of nightmare, something you had not experienced since that day in the office.

You had woken up from your slumber twenty minutes ago but had yet to leave the comfort - and warmth - of your bed. You shifted out from under the covers and into a half-sitting position with a book in hand. You were completely lost in the book; immersed to the point you had blocked the real world out. The noises of the waking city melted away. The cars, traffic, and voices became silenced and were replaced with a warm humming background noise.

A loud ringing abruptly brought you back to reality. It startled you, causing you to drop your book in fright.

“Fuck me.”  

You had placed a hand on your chest and looked at the fallen book in disbelief before your eyes flickered around for the source of the sound. Your eyes locked upon your phone, screen flashing with an unknown number. You had seen the number before though. A few times actually.

You let out a deep sigh, a mixture of relief and annoyance as you reached for the phone.

“Hell-o-o”

“Miss Yun,” a deep voice pierced through the phone’s speakers.

Instantly, your back stiffened and ice ran down your spine; you recognized the voice as the elderly lawyer, Mr. Wang.

What could he possibly want? You were not ready for any more depressing news. You were not even over the ones he had given you a week or so ago - and you probably never would be.

“What do you want?!” you flinched as soon as the words passed your lips, you sounded so angry and frustrated that you felt embarrassed. This was not how you wanted to come across, neither was it how the Yun’s had raised you. You needed to be respectful towards others - especially your elders.

You became more and more aware of how inappropriate your tone had been as the silence filled the room.

“I am so so sorry, I did not mean any disrespect or hardship, sir” You apologized profusely and vehemently, but the words died in your throat as your ears perked up, registering a chuckle sounding through the phone. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you because you thought you heard him chuckle “funny girl”.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Yun.”

You let out the breath you had held.

“I would imagine I would have been a little irritated myself if the position had been reversed” Mr. Wang continued.

“Still that is no reason for being disrespectful, sir”

“Do not linger on it, ____.”

It was the first time he had ever called you by your first name and, to be honest, it took you by surprise. It felt so out of character for him.

“Now as for the reason why I am calling: I have news regarding the settlement with the Yun clan and other information I would like to pass along to you.”  

You were nodding your head slowly, trying to comprehend what he was saying. 

“Would it be possible to meet up within the next few days?”

You hummed, still not quite sure where all this would end up.

“How does -” there was a short moment of silence, only the sound of what might have been him flipping through pages of his calendar, before continuing; “- Thursday at 1 pm sound?”

“Yeah, sure” you muttered, already knowing you had nothing planned and even if you had, you would cancel in a heartbeat for whatever information there was regarding your ‘parents’.

“Great! I will send a message with the place and time.”

“Yeah, whatever” you mumbled, hoping he did not hear it and if he did, he ignored it and ended the call with a curt yet quick farewell, then the line went dead. You looked at the phone in frustration and let out a heavy sigh, your mind was already overworking itself, making you fear what was to come.

Thursday arrived way too fast for your liking. Your nerves had been building up ever since Mr. Wang’s call and now that the day had come, they were reaching a breaking point. You had been anxious the whole day; pacing around your apartment since you had awoken and had tried to eat. But even the smallest amount of food had made you sick to your stomach. And now, you were squirming in your metro seat and picking at your cuticles out of habit.

You were not sure of how long you had been picking at your fingers, only stopping when a monotone voice sounded from the speakers, declaring the next stop which just happened to be your stop. As you took a hold of your bag, you noticed how the skin around your fingers was raw and inflamed. It was almost bleeding.

“For fuck sake” you mumbled annoyed, your skin had only just somewhat healed from last time. However, you could not linger on it for too long since you had somewhere to be, so with a heavy sigh, you left the comfort of your seat and went over to the doors, waiting patiently for them to slide open.

You exited the metro station with quick steps stopping shortly when you noted how the mass of people only seemed to grow even denser as you arrived at the street. Your heart raced at the sight of the packed place, starting to feel overwhelmed at the thought of having to go through the sea of people.  You had to zigzag around people, making sure not to collide with anyone while looking for the meeting address Mr. Wang had sent you. Even as you frantically looked for the address, your mind was just as frantically coming up with what-if scenarios. You could not help it. You were not sure what Mr. Wang could possibly want to tell you, that could not be said over the phone. What if he had mistaken and your parents had not wished for you to inherit anything? Or what if it was even more devastating? Another death in the family, maybe?

Finally, as the crowd seemed to thin out, you could look around a little easier and as your eyes flicked around they locked upon a building. Then your eyes darted to your phone, making sure that you were indeed at the right address. You were. So you tucked the phone back into your shoulder bag and your eyes - once again, locked upon the building.

The whole building was made of glass, reflecting the beautiful blue of the autumn sky to glowing with orange hues from pale peach to tangerine whenever the sun peeked through the clouds. It was stretching itself toward the sky, almost as if to break through to the heavens.

Then your eyes slowly traveled back down from the top of the building, until they settled upon the entrance. Immediately, noticing a black-suited man standing in the foyer of the building, staring at you with a stern look almost as if to tell you that you did not belong here. However, you already knew this, but Mr. Wang wanted to meet up here and you could not back down now.

Or could you?

No.

No, you could not do that. You had to know what Mr. Wang could possibly want. He wanted to meet up instead of simply telling you over the phone - like most people would and it had piqued your interest. Moreover, since it was most definitely about your deceased parents, you had to know.

You inhaled and exhaled with a sigh, then began the short walk toward the entrance with shaky legs. You could feel the stern-looking man’s eyes on you as you neared the entrée. It made you uncomfortable; the way he was burning holes into you, confirming you that you did not belong there.

But then again, where did you belong? 

You wrapped your arms around your stomach to shrink into yourself, lowering your head in an attempt to make yourself even smaller. With your head bowed down, you distracted yourself by counting the cracks on the pavement.

You were so preoccupied that you did not notice that someone had opened the door for you. It was only when the warm air slapped you in the face and a gasp slipped past your lips, you realized that you had stepped into the building.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

Immediately, you whipped your head around and your eyes traveled over the man until they landed on his face, still as serious and stern as a stone. A few seconds went by with you simply looking at him and not uttering a word, so the man rephrased his question.

“Do you have an appointment with someone today, ma’am?” the man asked, face softening slightly as he noticed your disheveled appearance; swollen eyes, cheeks flushed and splotchy, and hair slightly tousled.

“-Yes, sir,” you said timidly. You loosened the scarf around your neck in an attempt to cool yourself down from the sudden heat. In addition, to reduce the uncomfortableness you had felt ever since he had settled his eyes on you.  

“Can I have the name of the person you have an appointment with?” He asked and fished out a tablet from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Oh. I am here to see Mr. Wang.” As soon as the name passed your lips, the man’s eyes flicked back to the tablet and tapped on its screen. A few moments went by when he suddenly looked at you again, this time with a brow raised; “Miss Yun, I assume then?”

You nodded.

“Do you have any ID on you miss?”

You nodded once again, opening your bag and started looking for your identification card. You scolded yourself as you roamed through the bag, it had to be there somewhere in the mess of a bag. When suddenly your fingers brushed against the chapped sides of a card. You could not hold back the small victory wiggle as you pulled the card out.

The man simply took the card from you. 

He glanced at you to make sure that you were indeed the same person as the one in the photo. His eyes flicked from your face to the card and back. Unable to bear the scrutiny in his eyes, you looked away and started fidgeting with the few loose threads from your scarf. You found yourself getting hotter and hotter, afraid that he would not recognize the person in the photo. You had changed since the photo had been taken.

“Everything seems to check out, miss Yun.” The stern look washed away from his face as soon as your identity was confirmed, a loose smile finding its way onto his face instead. “You will have to take the elevator to the 42nd floor where Mr. Wang is staying, either he or his secretary will be there to welcome you.” He continued while pointing you towards the elevator.

“Thank you,” you said, a shy smile painted on your face. You gave a quick bow, then walked down the long hallway toward the elevator. You did not have to wait long for the elevator - maybe a few minutes, but no more than three.

You leaned against the elevator wall as soon as you entered and waited for the doors to close. As you stood alone inside the empty elevator, the nerves you had tried so hard to ignore ambushed you: you were staring blankly ahead of you while your heartbeat increased to an alarming pace, it felt as if it was about to jump out of your chest. Blood rushed to your ears, flushing out all other noises than the sound of your overworking heart.

A sudden ding chimed and the doors slowly slid open. Your eyes widened and darted over to the screen where the floor number shined brightly. 42nd. The floors had passed by way too quickly for your liking. You did not even have a moment to collect yourself before you stumbled out of the elevator with wobbly legs. You steadied yourself against a wall just outside of the elevator, taking a deep breath while closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. Luckily it did not take you long before your heartbeat slowed down to a somewhat normal rate.

With shaking legs you began your small walk down the corridor. Your eyes darted around, trying to find either Mr. Wang or a secretary - anyone for that matter, but none came into view.

You kept walking until you came by an empty desk. You look around, trying to see if anyone was near still, none were to be seen. Then your eyes landed on a dark mahogany door with four golden letters on it: ‘WANG’.

It had to be here.

You took a few steps towards the door and knocked on it, still somewhat scared about what may happen in there. Somehow you were still holding on to the hope that your parents would be standing in there, but you knew better. It would only happen in dreams. And this was anything but a dream.

You fidgeted with your jacket while waiting for any kind of response when suddenly the door was ripped open. A gasp passed your lips as you came face to face with a pair of kind eyes behind a pair of brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. There was a hint of kindness and somehow they seemed to calm you a little - but only a little.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Yun. I hope it was not too much of a problem for you.” Mr. Wang said, stepping aside for you to enter the office. You shook your head to make it clear that it was fine (even if it had been a problem, you probably would not have said anything).

“Then please sit down,” he said, pulling out the chair for you. The corner of your lips quirked up in a small smile in gratitude before sitting down in the chair he had offered.

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Water? A soda?” He asked while walking behind the desk you now sat in front of. The question threw you slightly off, reminding you why you were there. This was not going to be an easy or short conversation.

It was going to be a difficult one, you already knew it.  

“Just water, please.” You answered timidly, suddenly not having the courage to speak any louder in fear of your voice breaking.

He gave you a small nod, walking over to the bar cart in the far corner of the office before grabbing what you assumed to be a water bottle and poured it into two glasses. He strode back to the desk, placing one of the glasses in front of you before taking a seat. He took a sip of water and turned to you with a gentle smile.

“Let us begin then.”

~Hoseok Sugar Daddy~

This commission is part of the ChangesWithLuv project hosted by FicsWithLuv.

requested by @dee-ehn

Hope u like it ♡

•pls reblog/like if saved

-Hen

Let Me Tell You About the Schonbek Chandelliers

Summary: Yoongi comes home from the White House trip to his wife who is way too excited for… interior design

Pairing: Yoongi x f!reader

Rating: EXPLICIT. No minors allowed.

Genre: idol!au, established relationship, dad Yoongi + mom OC

WC: <1k

Warning: oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, our couple is horny for interior design, also author’s very poor knowledge of interior design thus heavy reliance on google dot com

~Part of the Domestic Yoongi series~

“So, how is it like? To walk around in the White House?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he continues to towel dry his hair. You have been hot on his heels since he came back from the airport, impatiently waiting for him to wash the travel off of him before asking questions.

“We didn’t walk around much, you know, just the areas we needed to be for the clips and stuff.”

He grabs for a tshirt but you stop him. He raises an eyebrow. You simply pull him out of the walk-in wardrobe, directing him to the bed.

“How was the wainscoting?”

“Neatly done.” Yoongi lets you push him down onto the bed. He tries to secure the towel around his waist, but you slap his hand away and straddle him.

“The colors? I read the President installed an inky blue rug in his office.”

Yoongi swallows, feeling your heat even through the terry cloth. “Nice shade of blue.”

You lean forward, eyes boring into your husband’s. His hands reach up to hold your waist. He hears your breath hitch a little.

“Did you see the Zuber wallpaper?”

“What?” He pulls your oversize shirt off and bites back a groan. You have gone braless and your nipples are already hard.

“It’s in the Family Dining Room. Did you get to see it?”

“What? Uh,” Yoongi can’t think clearly, not when you have plastered yourself on his chest, kissing and licking his collarbones. “No, I don’t think so.”

You tut, chiding him. “I told you to pay attention to all those things.”

“I did, I did, babe,” he wiggles his hips, loosening the towel around him more. “Just… wait, I can’t think!”

“The Rose Garden?” You murmur your next question to his skin, mewling a little when he cups your ass.

“Yeah,” he pants, “… think so.”

“Still those icy white roses?” You grind your core harder to his crotch, feeling him hardening beneath you.

“Yeah.”

“Did you- Ah!”

You could barely ask the next question, for Yoongi flips you over and is now hovering above you. The towel is completely off, his erection hot above your panties.

“You’re asking too many questions.” He sits back on his heels, large veiny hands on your waist keeping you still.

You huff. “You know that building is on my design bucket li- ooh!”

Your panties are suddnely pulled off, your legs raised up in an erotic V in the air. And his tongue shoved inside you, reaching the depths to collect your juices.

“The stone…” you wreck your brain to find the name, amidst the carnal pleasure building, “… sandstone… Aquia Creek! Yoongi!”

He slurps and sucks for a few more seconds, then inserting two fingers to replace his wet appendage. “What about it?”

You look down at your husband, at his wet lips and chin. “Did… did you touch it?”

His free hand pulls back the skin over your clit, exposing it to his tongue. “Mmm hmmm.” He grunts his answer.

“Oh fuck,” your legs start shaking. “Fuck, Yoongi, tell me more.”

His tongue leaves your nub, but his fingers move faster jackhammering into you.

“Damn, babe, you weren’t this worked out when I went to Europe.”

You blink, mind reeling from the almost-orgasm. “The… the… thing…”

He smirks at your state. “My tongue and finger got you dumb huh?”

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers out and uses your arousal to lubricate his cock. Panting, you welcome his weight on top of you, the head of his cock searching for your wet hole.

“Baby,” he coos, “let me tell you…”

He trails off as he pushes inside you. Your walls welcome him eagerly. You wrap your legs and arms around him, wanting to feel him, all of him.

“… about the Schonbek chandelliers.”

Your body shudders almost violently the moment the words leave his mouth, at the same time as his cock burying itself fully in you. He chuckles teasingly in your ears.

“Fuck baby, you’re so worked up.”

You can only moan in response.

“Gonna take you there hmm? Fly you out to DC,” he raises himself only to put your legs over his shoulders. “Gonna take you on the tour then fuck you senseless after.”

Your eyes fluter close at his words. His hips are snapping hard and fast, his cock splitting you open, determined to go as deep as he can get it to. You cry out when he leans down to roughly suck your nipple, and in your mind, you see it.

The crystal and gold hanging from the neoclassical ceiling, the lights sparkling with the sun rays that hit them, burning brighter and brighter as Yoongi’s filthy words fill your ears, until you finally erupt.

A/N: ahem, just a little short one of my favorite couple… and if you’re not familiar with this universe, OC is an interior designer (hence probably where Yoongi got all those design trivia in that sexy brain of his). AND… we all have screamed over all the WH photos and how much YG prob has geeked out there, soooo naturally, his lovely interior designer wife very likely geeked out even more too in more ways than one…. and thus this little drabble was born.
OK bye for now, I still have a lot of WIPs to go through.

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Published 06062022. Crossposted to my AO3.