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Chapter 5: Dodgeball
Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: Exams are finally over, so here's an update. Hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty
Your gaze stayed fixed on the man before you, hunched over as he cradled his bruised jaw with one hand. Was this what Principal Park had meant when he had said the Academy wasn’t entirely safe? You had assumed that he had been referring to secret abductions in the middle of the night or underlying schemes being formulated in the shadows.
Not outright attacks being done in the centre of the main hall while the morning’s sunlight still shone brightly.
You paused as the sound of expensive dress shoes striking against the marble floor echoed around the hall, each step slow and confident to reveal someone entering through the same doors the guy a few metres away from you had stumbled through just a few seconds earlier.
You would have ignored whoever it was and walked over to the guy still crouched on the floor, but at the last second your gaze caught onto a few strands of dark purple, causing your head to snap towards him in shock.
Jimin’s brother paused at the doorway, scanning the main hall nonchalantly with those familiar occult red eyes. Even without the dimly lit atmosphere and dark shadows he seemed just as menacing as he had last night. The only difference was that now you could just barely pick up on an underlying anger lurking behind the nonchalant facade.
His gaze flickered to you for a moment, taking in your standing form beside the Tree of Life, before it ultimately fell on the guy on the floor.
At the sight of Jimin’s brother the guy pushed himself off the ground quickly with wide eyes and hands hovering upwards in a sign of surrender.
Wait… was he the one that was doing this?
As if to answer your question, Jimin’s brother walked over to him and grabbed his collar with a gloved hand, dragging him with it until he slammed him against the nearest wall.
The main hall began to fill with students from the dining hall, all of whom seemed curious, and clearly entertained, by the current state of events. They all made sure to give the two a wide area of space though, evidently making sure they wouldn’t get involved.
Typical.
You didn’t know if you wanted to get involved either. There was that feeling back in your chest, the one of elation whenever you watched men fight each other; whenever they decided to inflict pain on their own rather than on you. You knew it was wrong to feel that way, your hate didn’t blind you that much, but you still couldn’t seem to help yourself.
Come on, don’t be a monster Y/N, you thought with a sigh.
You forced yourself to take a step towards the two, opening your mouth to reluctantly stop whatever was going on, but then paused as you suddenly recognised who Jimin’s brother had pinned to the wall.
Wasn’t that the guy that had bullied Seokjin yesterday? What was his name… Jihoon?
“Look man,” Jihoon said, hands still up in surrender as Jimin’s brother held his collar, “I don’t understand what I did! Please just let me go, I’ll do whatever you want!”
“Oh?” Jimin’s brother grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes that did not match his calm tone, “not so tough now, are we?”
His gaze dropped to the bruise on Jihoon’s jaw, which was now turning an ugly shade of purple, “that’s disappointing, I was expecting a good fight.”
You watched Jihoon cower a bit when his gaze raised to meet his once again, “you want me to leave you alone?”
“Y-yes,” Jihoon answered, so quickly that you almost felt bad for him. Jimin’s brother nodded slowly, clearly relishing in his fear.
“Okay, but only on one condition.”
Jimin’s brother leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, but to your surprise, Jihoon seemed to freak out at the action. His head immediately jerked backwards, causing it to hit against the wall behind him roughly. A pained groan escaped his lips.
You narrowed your gaze at the excessive reaction. You knew Jihoon was a coward the second you had caught him preying on Seokjin, but still… Jimin’s brother had only leaned forward. Was Jihoon really that scared of him?
Jimin’s brother ignored the reaction, waiting for him to stop groaning over his head, before he leaned forward once again and whispered something near his ear. You felt everyone strain their ears to try and listen to his words, but they were spoken much too low for anyone, including you, to hear.
His words elicited another reaction from Jihoon, but this time it was more of a shocked response than a frightened one.
“You what?!” He said incredulously, his hands dropping to his sides.
But one withering glare from Jimin’s brother suddenly had him nodding instantly, “wait- okay! Okay, I swear!”
“Great,” Jimin’s brother grinned with fake amusement for a moment before it dropped.
“Now get lost.”
Jihoon scrambled away from him the second he was freed, half running through the front doors of the academy. It was almost comical the way Hannah, the blonde foreigner that had been with him yesterday, ran after him while calling his name. The two definitely made for an interesting pair, you’ll give them that much.
You looked back at Jimin’s brother, only to find him already walking out of the hall without another word. His expression was far from the amused cocky bastard from last night, this time filled with hidden rage that you questioned. You distantly wondered what Jihoon could have possibly done to make him so angry.
“Cheonsa,” a voice behind you stated suddenly.
You turned around to find an unfamiliar girl standing next to you, dressed in the same Elitist Academy uniform as your own. Similar to Hannah she was also a foreigner, but her dark brown hair was pulled into short braids under her maroon cap while her light brown skin stood out against her cream-coloured collar.
“Sorry, what?” You asked, unsure of what she had just said.
While the students that had stayed to watch the spectacle began making their way to their classes, she just continued to stand beside you and stare at the door in which Jimin’s brother had disappeared behind, “the guy that just practically beat up Jihoon, his name is Park Cheonsa.”
“Cheonsa?” You repeated, tilting your head slightly, “that’s an… odd name.”
The word itself translated to ‘angel,’ but you’d never actually heard anyone use it as a name before. The irony of someone like him being named angel was also not lost on you.
“He’s the principal’s son, which is why he can get away with acting out like that. I’d be careful around him if I were you.”
You almost snorted, but held yourself back at the last minute so that you didn’t come off as rude. Everyone in this academy had rich parents that allowed them to act however they wanted, it was practically a requirement in order to get into the school.
Still, it was sweet of her to give you a warning anyway.
You gave her a smile, “thanks for the warning… I guess. What’s your name?”
“Oh right!” She breathed with an embarrassed smile, “I almost forgot, I’m Amelia!”
“Y/N,” you offered, “it’s nice to meet you, Amelia.”
“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N, you’re really nice,” she said, then added shyly, “it’s been kind of hard to find nice people in this Academy.”
You regarded her for a moment, contemplating her words. She must have been from one of the more lower class families. In a place where everyone was rich, the students treated each other based on how rich their families were. So while Amelia was far from worrying about when her next meal would be, she and the students like her were probably taking the brunt of the bullying in this place.
It was a sad truth, one that had you sympathising with her.
“People can be real jerks, I totally get it,” you agreed, offering her another smile, “but if it means anything, you can always consider me a friend. Only if you’d like to, of course.”
To your surprise, Amelia frowned, “that’s very kind of you, but… if you’re seen with me, won’t they start targeting you as well? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
You couldn’t help but smile, a light chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop yourself, “you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll be fine.”
You were sure word must have gotten out by now about who you were. Whether it was regarding your ability or the identity of your parents, either piece of information would be more than enough to protect you from any kind of bullying.
“Besides,” you continued, giving her a dramatic frown, “I don’t even have any friends. You’re really going to let me die of loneliness?”
Amelia just laughed, shaking her head at you, “I didn’t realise your life was on the line here. In that case, how can I say no?”
With a smile, you checked the time on your phone, noticing that your class was about to start soon, “I have class right now, so I need to get going. Maybe we can meet up during break?”
“Really?” Amelia said, almost in surprise, as her expression brightened at the offer, “of course, I would love to!”
You nodded, “great, I’ll see you later in that case.”
You started to turn around, feeling bad that you couldn’t stay and talk to her for longer since you knew being late to class wasn’t going to do your grades any favours, but was stopped when Amelia suddenly placed her hand on your shoulder at the last second, as if she had needed to work up the courage to do it.
“Hey, listen…” She started hesitantly, “before you go, I just wanted you to know that I’ll stand up for you if people start treating you badly because of me. I’m not the type to just watch a friend suffer silently.”
You smiled at her thoughtfulness. Obviously it was too early to tell, but you had a feeling that Amelia was going to become a pretty close friend after today. Or maybe that was just something you wanted to happen and you were projecting. Either way, you had no issues with getting closer to the sweet girl standing before you.
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“You’re joking right?”
Namjoon stared at you incredulously, his eyes narrowing in that way that always seemed to make whoever his target was at that moment feel like they had a baseball for a brain. Hell, it used to make you feel like the dumbest person on Earth until you finally stopped letting it get to you.
You were sitting in the same History of Magic 101 class as yesterday, except the size of the class had evidently decreased. Instead, the lecture hall was now only filled with 8 other students, male students, aside from yourself, just as Principal Park had explained.
“The ability to control magic was completely absent during the Mesozoic era,” Namjoon continued to insist, crossing his arms over his chest.
You sat back in your chair, mimicking his action with a raised brow, “tell that to the dinosaur bones that were recently discovered to have traces of magic in them.”
He scoffed, “humans are the only species with the ability to influence magic, so how could this ability have existed when humans didn’t?”
Making sure to keep your gaze on Namjoon, you focused on your peripheral vision to study Ms. Kari, who was standing on the podium. To your delight, you noticed her hands placed frustratedly on her hips as she gave both you and Namjoon a look mixed with exhaustion and irritation.
“And how do you know dinosaurs couldn’t control magic back then?” You questioned, focusing back on the man sitting a few seats away from you to goad him further, “it would explain the traces of magic found in their bones.”
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Cheonsa throw his head back in a muted groan before propping himself forward on his hands with a sigh. The rest of the class looked back and forth between the two of you, whether invested in the debate or confused by it you didn’t know.
“The magic in their bones could have come from anywhere!” He argued, “it could have been absorbed from their surroundings or simply remnants of life magic from when they were still alive! Today’s animals lack the ability to influence magic, therefore it’s likely that the dinosaurs were the same.”
“Not necessarily,” you shot back, “perhaps dinosaurs became extinct due to their ability to influence magic while animals today survive only because they cannot? You ever heard of selective pressures, Namjoon?”
“Then what about-”
“This is the fourth time you both have broken into an argument after I asked a simple question to the class,” Ms. Kari finally spoke, interrupting Namjoon with a scowl, “I understand that you two seem to already have extensive knowledge on the class material, but these outbursts are disrupting my teaching.”
“If they don’t stop, I will have to start taking more severe action,” she threatened, making sure to look both you and Namjoon in the eye, “is that understood?”
Namjoon gave you one last look before turning to face Ms. Kari once again, “yes, Ms. Kari.”
“It won’t happen again,” you added.
But you lied.
It was definitely going to happen again.
If Principal Park wasn’t going to switch your cohort, then you were just going to have to take matters into your own hands. See, if you were to keep causing disruptions in class, Ms. Kari would eventually have to take it up with the Principal. And since Principal Park would have to take action, but can’t kick you out of the school, he would have no other choice but to switch your class. He’d probably switch you to private tutoring, which you were no stranger to.
All you had to do was argue with Namjoon a few times per class, which was beyond easy considering Namjoon’s unlimited ego and his constant need to prove himself right all the time.
If everything went as planned you’d be out of here by the end of the week.
But until then, you’d have to survive your classes the way they were at the moment.
So you did.
The rest of the class went smoothly for the most part, aside from a couple more small arguments you started between yourself and Namjoon, until the bell rang and everyone began making their way to the next class.
You walked into the women’s dressing room, making sure to lock it before beginning to change out of your uniform. Your next class was physical education, which required you to slip into your academy-issued gym clothes. The gym uniform consisted of a white, fitted short-sleeve t-shirt that had been tailored to your exact specifications and loose red shorts that ended just below your mid-thigh. You decided to also pull on the matching red zip-up sweater, with the gold emblem printed on the lapel unlike the formal uniform, wishing that it would protect you from more than just a chilly breeze.
You fixed your hair up into a ponytail as you walked out of the dressing room and started making your way out of the academy. The physical education class was to be held in the field in front of the school, so you stepped onto the grass reluctantly while scanning the area.
The guys had already arrived, each of them wearing the same uniform you were while lounging around or just casually chatting with one another as they waited for the Professor to arrive. Some had opted to wear the sweater while others had chosen to discard theirs haphazardly at the edge of the field.
You chose to stand off to the side, unable to stop yourself from sulking a bit at not having anyone to talk to. It sucked to be in a class full of men, but you reminded yourself that you just had to wait it out for one week. Then, hopefully, your plan would grant you some form of peace.
Too in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Yoongi had walked up to you until he was standing right beside you with his arms crossed over his chest. He stood for a moment, completely unnoticed by you until he suddenly spoke.
“Stop that.”
You turned to him, gaze unintentionally falling on the black patch covering his left eye. It came as a surprise to you that he had approached you and started up a conversation considering he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy talking to others.
“Stop what?” You replied, turning your face away to study the field once again.
“You’re practically burning holes through everyone’s head with your glare,” he commented, “stop it, it’s annoying.”
You scoffed. What was up with this guy and always trying to tell you what to do? Maybe Jungkook was right and he really was some creep that was into that or something.
“If it bothers you so much, you can always just go away,” you said.
You could feel his gaze boring into the side of your head, making you shift uncomfortably before you turned to glare at him. He only titled his head slightly.
“You know,” he started, “Namjoon told us about your obvious hate towards our gender. Care to explain the reasoning behind such strong feelings?”
“No.”
He narrowed his eye, opening his mouth to probably prod you further, but to your relief you noticed the Professor stepping onto the field.
He was a tall guy, maybe one of the tallest men you’d ever seen, and dressed in a dark grey tracksuit and black dress shoes. The zip of his jacket was pulled down halfway to reveal a white collared shirt and a neatly-made maroon tie. Everything about him seemed neat. His dark brown hair was trimmed and brushed tidily to the side while his gleaming black framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.
Without another glance towards Yoongi, you made your way towards the Professor alongside the other guys. You all formed a ring around him, waiting for him to start the class.
“This is Physical Education 101,” he said gruffly, “I’m Professor Son, but you will only refer to me as sir. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir!” You all exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had joined the military.
“Now I know what most of your old high school Phys Ed classes must have looked like,” he said, eyeing each and every one of you, “they were seen as a break from studying, usually a period to waste time and have fun.”
“But from now on you can forget those days, because moving forward this class will take everything out of you. It will be merciless, just like the real world, so you’ll learn to suck it up, and hopefully, by the end of it, you’ll make something of yourselves.”
Mr. Son rested a hand over his hip as the other stroked his chin in thought.
“Since today’s your first day, I’ve decided we’ll play a game of dodgeball,” he said. Then, as if a thought just occurred to him, he suddenly began to laugh, “hope you survive enough for your next class.”
There was something… scary about his laugh. While Cheonsa’s laugh had sounded like a warning, his just sounded cruel. But you were only playing dodgeball, how bad could it be?
When he finally let his laugh subside, Mr. Son waved a hand around, “now get into two teams, you’re old enough to do it on your own.”
At his words, everyone hurried to place themselves into a group as quickly as possible. Mr. Son was clearly one of the mean teachers, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of a teacher that already had it out for you.
Since none of the guys really knew each other that well, the groups formed pretty much based on how close to each other everyone was standing. In a matter of seconds, groups of four students had formed on either side of you.
The only issue was that you had been standing mostly in the middle of the two, making you hesitate for a moment. With the groups already being equal, and you standing directly in the middle of them, you didn’t know which one you were meant to go into. But under Mr. Son’s scrutinising eye, you quickly shuffled over to the group on the right, barely paying attention to who was in that team.
You unintentionally ended up standing next to Jungkook, who gave you a grin. He was one of the guys who had decided to discard the zip-up sweater and instead wore only the white, short-sleeve shirt with his red shorts. Under the sunlight you could make out an athletic, but toned, body, the thin material doing a poor job of hiding his prominent muscles.
“You have a good eye, Y/N,” he said as Mr. Son turned away from the groups, “you’ve skillfully chosen the winning team, congratulations.”
Your gaze strayed from him to study the rest of the group. It was annoying that you had ended up in the same group as Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi, and of course Jungkook. But then again, joining the other group would have meant being teammates with Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Cheonsa, who were equally annoying. Basically it was a lose-lose situation either way.
To your left Hoseok, who was on the other team, snorted, but his expression was humorous, “sorry, what was that? Did you say the losing team? Because if so you’d be right.”
“In your dreams maybe,” Jungkook laughed, only for Mr. Son to roll his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, leave the trash talking for the actual game,” he said as he brought out his wand and directed it towards the centre of the field. A neat line of dodgeballs appeared from thin air, bright red and soft-looking under the sun.
“Though we’ll see how much you’ll feel like talking soon enough. Now get in position.”
The two teams immediately separated, walking to either side of the field before crouching over the white line outlining its edge. You opted to crouch beside Jimin, who gave you a quick thumbs up before refocusing on the dodgeballs in the centre of the field.
Even though you didn’t care much about winning a stupid game of dodgeball, you couldn’t help but study the other team anyway. Hoseok seemed the most into it as he called out suggestions to the rest of his team for reaching the dodgeballs before everyone else, while Cheonsa just rolled his eyes at the effort. Beside him Taehyung seemed just as apathetic, but he seemed to at least be a little less apparent about it. Seokjin, on the other hand, seemed like he wanted to be anywhere except here.
The difference in attitude between Hoseok and his team was almost laughable.
The nine of you watched Professor Son walk alongside the sidelines of the field until he paused beside the line of dodgeballs. He brought out his phone, seemingly checking something, before he faced you all once again.
“The game begins at the sound of the whistle,” he announced, earning him a few nods.
“Three,” he began to count, “two”
“One.”
Mr. Son suddenly brought his wand upwards, flicking his wrist so that it rounded into a circle in the air. Not even half a second later the sound of a shrill whistle cut through the silence, as clearly as if someone had blown into one right beside your ear.
“Begin!”
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Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too
Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11
The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.
You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings.
Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one.
There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges.
“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”
Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”
You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out.
You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field.
Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one.
With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw.
“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”
“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke.
It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over.
Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright.
You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind.
It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.
Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess.
It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture.
But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop.
Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook.
“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”
He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”
Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”
“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”
“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”
It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”
“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”
No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse.
You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands.
Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure.
“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”
If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you.
So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw.
Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso.
There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment.
Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.
You all watched him grimace.
And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence.
By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.
After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace.
“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction.
It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you?
Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”
You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible.
So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station.
Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.”
“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”
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You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.
That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer.
A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant.
Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace.
Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home.
Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…
You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much.
At least you would get to meet your mother.
The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.
But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort.
They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin.
How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly.
Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.
“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”
His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.
You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you.
‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.
“For what?” You asked.
He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.
‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’
That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.
‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued.
You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone.
“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.
Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’
“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”
Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’
You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in.
‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’
It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak.
A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.
There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty.
Your lips moved before your mind could approve.
“I’m sorry too.”
This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs.
Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?
If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying.
Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall.
The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.
But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?
You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.
But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.
What if he was trying to manipulate you?
What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?
You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again.
A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges.
The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you.
“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.
Speak of the devil…
Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet.
“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”
Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”
“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”
You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line.
“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch.
“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’
Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?
“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it.
“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”
Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”
“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”
Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers.
A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”
Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”
If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile.
The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh.
“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”
Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.
“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”
Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”
“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”
Jimin’s jaw ticked.
“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”
“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat.
The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh.
“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”
Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction.
Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice called.
Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned.
“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”
“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”
That made you raise an eyebrow.
“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”
“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”
Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall.
“Now come on, I’m starving.”
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Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along.
You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general.
“What’s got you smiling so widely?”
You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.
After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day.
“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”
“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”
“What do you want, Namjoon?”
His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”
Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.
“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time.
Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-
“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight.
You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.
“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”
“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”
Great, you thought bitterly.
Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”
“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”
“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off.
“Whatever.”
You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”
Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.
“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”
“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.
“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”
“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression.
“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”
“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him.
You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”
Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.
“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”
“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”
You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”
“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”
“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”
The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness.
Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers.
You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes.
And then lost yourself in the light.
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Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too
Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11
The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.
You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings.
Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one.
There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges.
“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”
Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”
You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out.
You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field.
Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one.
With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw.
“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”
“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke.
It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over.
Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright.
You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind.
It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.
Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess.
It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture.
But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop.
Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook.
“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”
He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”
Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”
“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”
“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”
It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”
“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”
No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse.
You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands.
Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure.
“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”
If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you.
So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw.
Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso.
There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment.
Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.
You all watched him grimace.
And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence.
By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.
After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace.
“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction.
It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you?
Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”
You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible.
So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station.
Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.”
“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”
-
-
-
You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.
That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer.
A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant.
Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace.
Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home.
Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…
You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much.
At least you would get to meet your mother.
The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.
But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort.
They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin.
How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly.
Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.
“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”
His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.
You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you.
‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.
“For what?” You asked.
He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.
‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’
That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.
‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued.
You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone.
“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.
Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’
“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”
Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’
You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in.
‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’
It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak.
A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.
There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty.
Your lips moved before your mind could approve.
“I’m sorry too.”
This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs.
Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?
If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying.
Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall.
The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.
But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?
You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.
But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.
What if he was trying to manipulate you?
What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?
You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again.
A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges.
The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you.
“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.
Speak of the devil…
Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet.
“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”
Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”
“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”
You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line.
“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch.
“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’
Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?
“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it.
“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”
Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”
“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”
Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers.
A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”
Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”
If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile.
The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh.
“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”
Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.
“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”
Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”
“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”
Jimin’s jaw ticked.
“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”
“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat.
The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh.
“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”
Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction.
Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice called.
Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned.
“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”
“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”
That made you raise an eyebrow.
“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”
“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”
Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall.
“Now come on, I’m starving.”
-
-
-
Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along.
You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general.
“What’s got you smiling so widely?”
You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.
After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day.
“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”
“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”
“What do you want, Namjoon?”
His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”
Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.
“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time.
Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-
“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight.
You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.
“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”
“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”
Great, you thought bitterly.
Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”
“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”
“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off.
“Whatever.”
You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”
Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.
“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”
“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.
“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”
“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression.
“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”
“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him.
You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”
Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.
“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”
“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”
You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”
“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”
“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”
The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness.
Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers.
You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes.
And then lost yourself in the light.
Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too
Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11
The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.
You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings.
Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one.
There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges.
“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”
Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”
You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out.
You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field.
Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one.
With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw.
“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”
“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke.
It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over.
Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright.
You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind.
It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.
Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess.
It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture.
But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop.
Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook.
“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg.
You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”
He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”
Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”
“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”
“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”
It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”
“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”
No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse.
You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands.
Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure.
“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”
If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you.
So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw.
Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso.
There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment.
Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.
You all watched him grimace.
And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence.
By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.
After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace.
“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction.
It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you?
Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”
You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible.
So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station.
Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.”
“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”
-
-
-
You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.
That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer.
A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant.
Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace.
Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home.
Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…
You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much.
At least you would get to meet your mother.
The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.
But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort.
They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin.
How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly.
Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.
“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”
His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.
You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you.
‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.
“For what?” You asked.
He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.
‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’
That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.
‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued.
You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone.
“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.
Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’
“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”
Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’
You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in.
‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’
It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak.
A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.
There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty.
Your lips moved before your mind could approve.
“I’m sorry too.”
This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs.
Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?
If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying.
Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall.
The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.
But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?
You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.
But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.
What if he was trying to manipulate you?
What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?
You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again.
A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges.
The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you.
“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.
Speak of the devil…
Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet.
“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”
Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”
“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”
You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line.
“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch.
“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’
Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?
“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it.
“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”
Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”
“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”
Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers.
A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”
Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”
If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile.
The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh.
“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”
Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.
“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”
Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”
“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”
Jimin’s jaw ticked.
“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”
“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat.
The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh.
“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”
Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction.
Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice called.
Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned.
“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”
“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”
That made you raise an eyebrow.
“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”
“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”
Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall.
“Now come on, I’m starving.”
-
-
-
Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along.
You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general.
“What’s got you smiling so widely?”
You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.
After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day.
“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”
“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”
“What do you want, Namjoon?”
His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”
Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.
“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time.
Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-
“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight.
You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.
“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”
“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”
Great, you thought bitterly.
Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”
“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”
“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off.
“Whatever.”
You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”
Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.
“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”
“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.
“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”
“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression.
“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”
“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him.
You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”
Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.
“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”
“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”
You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”
“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”
“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”
The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness.
Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers.
You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes.
And then lost yourself in the light.
Agust Dad—Two
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: mentions of vomit and throwing up, pregnancy, one singular cuss word, talk about self hate, hints of abortion
<next part>
note: i have such big plans for this, I just hope my writing comes in clutch. this is a little shorter, the next one will be longer I swear
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops
“What are you doing here?”
You ask, eyes widening when Yoongi shows up in your office one morning, effortlessly closing the door behind himself and stepping up to your desk before you can even finish your sentence.
You should have guessed that you’d have a visit from him, but you thought he was more rational than showing up at your office in broad daylight. He was supposed to be one of the more professional members.
“Is the baby mine?” Yoongi asks point blank, his tone neutral, perhaps even slightly stern.
His question hangs in the air, the answer being obvious – if slightly daunting and it catches you by the throat.
Instead, you continue to remain silent, your gaze fixed on the computer in front of you that faded to black a long while ago. You don’t know how to respond, or even what to say. And you were afraid that answering him would make everything more real. That reality would finally set in and you’d have to face the consequences.
Yoongi sighs and runs his hands through his long black hair frustratedly and decides to ask another question instead.
“How many weeks are you?” He asked this time and you know you can’t give him silence twice, not if you wanted to get him out of your office as fast as possible. You suck in a breath before you speak.
“Six weeks..” You whisper, your voice barely heard. Yoongi thinks back to six weeks ago, and realizes that the timeline added up. That he could possibly the the father.
Yoongi remains quiet for a few moments, as if letting your confirmation finally sink in. As he processes your words, his expression softens, but it’s visible that he was hit with a wave of thoughts. A mixture of emotions seems to dance across his features – uncertainty, fear, maybe even a hint of joy but you can’t find the strength to stare at him for too long.
You look at your computer, having your own wave of conflicting emotions and thoughts wash over you. Disbelief, shock, guilt – all of it, all at once.
But the longer there is a stalemate between the two of you, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere gets.
Just like you had thought. Reality set in the more silent you sat through.
You were pregnant with Min Yoongi’s baby.
“So…” Yoongi starts, breaking the heavy silence once and for all, “what do you plan on doing about it?”
“I plan on having a baby..” You state firmly but your voice is still small and quiet. You still can’t look up at him and stare at the black screen, feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with him of all people, in broad daylight.
There’s a long pause after your declaration. Yoongi takes a step back, his expression shifting into one filled with worry and concern. When he speaks his voice is in a whisper and filled with emotions.
“Why?”
You could guess in what direction this conversation is heading, and you don’t like it.
“You know I work in music. People wouldn’t be pleased to know I have a kid, let alone with a co-worker. Not to mention that I’m a public figure. Hell, we’re not even married.” You know it makes sense, you know that this baby would only make problems but something deep inside you urges you to object anyway. You know I’m your heart that you can’t just abandon and give up on this baby.
“I don’t need your help raising it.” You dare to say, your voice firm. You knew the risks of people finding out you were pregnant with Yoongi’s baby. The media would go crazy and you would likely lose your job. Still, you didn’t want to abandon your baby like he did you. Like he would do this child. You didn’t need his help, in fact, you rather he stay away all together.
The silence is stretched out until Yoongi finally speaks, his words measured.
"I see," he says slowly, the words sinking in, "so, you plan on raising the baby by yourself." He clarity’s to himself and you nod, staying firm.
He runs his hands through his hair again, this time with more tension. He thinks through your words and tries to process them, all while struggling to keep calm. He looked visibly stressed about the entire situation so you’re half expecting him to just give you a check for your silence and walk out.
He lets out a long sigh, the tension between you two reaching its breaking point.
"This is my problem too. I'll help you however I can," Yoongi says, his tone shifting into a more level- headed one. “But you can’t just decide what happens to this baby if it’s mine and leave me out. This affects me too.”
You roll your eyes and scoff at his choice of words. If it’s he’s. Like you were always so unprofessional and just slept around. He was calling it a problem for God’s sake. Calling you a problem.
“It’s not like you would risk your whole career for a woman you don’t even know.” You say sternly, trying to control your emotions but it’s hard when your stomach and your throat are burning.
“I’ll raise this baby alone just like how you left me alone after we did it. You don’t get to decide anything.” You say and the words sound harsh but you’re just looking out for yourself. You didn’t need Yoongi and all the package he came with.
“So you’ll just have Jin help you though the whole thing.” He says and it earns him a scoff and a glare.
“I didn’t want to get Jin involved he was just there.” You say firmly, feeling your blood boiling even though you know you should calm down. “At least he was there.” You say harshly.
“Why do you keep saying shit like that?” He finally asks clearly getting worked up as he looks at you in disbelief and confusion.
“Because that’s what you did! You lured me in and then left me! I put my entire job in jeopardy and you didn’t even care.” You state, memories of being alone in the hotel, wallowing in self hate over your mistake.
You wanted to tell him how much he made you hate yourself. How much he damaged you on the inside. How he took your pride and dignity with him when he left.
“You made me feel terrible,” your voice cracks slightly as you try to hold down the tears in your throat. “And the worst part is that at the end of the day. It didn’t even affect you. You’re still famous and rich and loved by many.”
Your stomach turns as you think back to when you first heard BTS. When listened to his first album. How excited you were when you got to work with him on a song.
Yoongi's expression is blank, his eyes boring into you from the opposite end of the desk as he contemplates your words. This is indeed new information for him, and it might take some time for him to wrap his mind around.
Something changes in his eyes as he stares at you, his eyes never leaving you. He opens his mouth, looking conflicted as he tries to build a sentence but your to embarrassed and ashamed to even hear what he wants to say.
So before he can say anything you stand up from your desk and rush out, holding your stomach as you feel morning sickness coming. You know that he still has more to say, but you refuse to look back. For now at least, Yoongi will just have to stew in his own conflicted feelings.
You get to the bathroom, tears finally falling from your lids as you bent over the toilet and throw up the little breakfast you had. You felt like a mess all over again. Your head is spinning and your eyes are hazy. You’re so exhausted and tired you think you might faint.
You know that seeing Yoongi again would likely break you completely, and you’re to scared to go back to your office because you don’t know if he is gone or not.
You decided to go home early, stating that you’re sick and all it took was one good look at you and they gave you permission to leave. No doubt you looked a mess, even with a mask on.
Once you're home, you slump down on your bed, exhausted after the events of the day. You’d really need some rest after today's events, not to mention the persistent nausea and fatigue that have been plaguing you. You feel tired but can't seem to fall asleep, thoughts spinning around your head about your pregnancy and what's to come.
When you finally manage to get in a short nap it doesn’t last as long as you needed. You check the clock on your phone and see it's late at night, and that you have a new message from a number you don't recognize.
The text is completely anonymous. From an unsaved number you had never seen before. But despite this, know how exactly who it’s from and it sends you into a spiral.
i’m here now
Agust Dad—Three
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: none I think, just pure angst, Yoongi’s kinda stalkerish but that’s okay
<next part>
note: I don’t wanna drag this out but I don’t wanna make the chapters to long😭 anyways my life has been crazy lately and this story gives me life so THANK YOU SM for all of the support I love you ALL. Updated the tag list for whoever asked to be on it🫶🏽
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings
You thought blocking him would fix the problem. Even though you both worked in the same building, you thought blocking him would make everything go away. You thought he would get a hint and let your breathe.
You actually woke up the next morning with a sense of relief – you’re done with Yoongi. He’s finally out of your life and won't be causing more drama and heartbreak.
Or so you thought.
A loud knock on your front door brings you back to harsh reality very quickly. You weren’t expecting anyone, and it's way too early in the day to be a package or delivery. No one made any prior plans to visit you.
In fact, you hadn’t really talked to anyone since the incident besides a couple family members. But they were way to far from Seoul to suddenly drive to your house.
You stumble to your front door, rubbing your eyes as you try to adjust to the light. You have your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it as you take a small glance through the peephole.
Oh, it’s Yoongi.
It registers in your head and you quickly do a double take, leaning down more to get a better view.
Oh, it’s YOONGI.
He’s head is down as he looks at his phone, so you can’t get the clearest look at his features but you recognize the luxurious long black hair. You recognize the nice black blazer that he always seems to have on. You recognize his freakishly pale skin and his long fingers and veiny hands.
Min Yoongi is at your doorstep at six o clock in the morning.
You quickly swing your door open, causing his head to snap up from his phone as you stare at him with wide eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
You get deja vu as you whisper yell at him, afraid you’d alert the neighbors or some crazy fan would realize that Min Yoongi is on your doorstep.
You should be asking how he got your address and number, but your mind is too much of a mess to ask the right questions.
“Why can’t I come check up on you?” Yoongi frowns, irritated by your cold welcome and you stare at him like he is an alien.
Before you can answer his insane question, he speaks up again. “Wow this house is treacherous.” He mumbles as he glancing around your porch.
You shake your head, dismissing the sudden rude remark on your house. “Yoongi are you insane? You can’t come here like this.” You say in a quiet voice again, glancing around your neighborhood but nothing has changed.
“You blocked me.” Yoongi states, his tone making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world but his expression was still blank.
“Well I did it because I didn’t want to talk to you.” You state harshly, making it clear how crazy he looked by somehow finding your address and showing up anyways.
He just stands there, remaining unfazed by your outbursts, his gaze never wavering. Instead of saying something back, he simply pushes a piece of paper you hadn’t notice he had, towards you.
You give him a confused look as you take the paper before glancing down to look at it. Upon closer inspection your eyes catch certain words.
Your eyes widen as you realize what the piece of paper was.
You don’t know what you’re going to say, but as you glance back up at him you attempt to move your mouth anyways. He speaks again before you can say even anything. “Take the paternity test.”
You remain silent as you stare down at the paternity test in your hands, the silence between you growing more and more intense. "If the baby isn’t mine, you can block me and I’ll leave you alone. But if it’s mine, I want to be involved..”
For the first time every, you see a hint of emotion in his eyes. His blank expression softens, revealing a hint of who he might really be. “I want to be there.”
You don't say anything, but inside your heart's beating a mile a minute and your thoughts are spinning around your mind as you try to process everything. This moment feels far too surreal, like something out of a drama that only exists in fiction.
Of course you couldn’t believe his words. After everything you spilled to him yesterday, you couldn’t just hop back into his arms. You couldn’t just trust him again. You want to tell him off for showing up at your door like this in the first place.
But still, a faint flicker of hope springs inside you. A tiny voice whispers things in your ear that maybe things will be different. Maybe you won’t be alone. Just maybe you could trust him.
"Fine, I'll take the test." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel a pang of regret. You can’t deny him the right to know if it’s his, even if you knew that it was already biologically. He was the only man you’d slept with for almost a year.
Without giving him much time to process your words, you close the door breathing heavily as you tired to calm your thoughts. You try to focus on other things for the time being, but despite your efforts to think positively and be strong, a nagging feeling of dread never leaves you. You feel a heavy weight sink in your stomach as you worry about the future and your baby.
You retreat to your room, shutting the door behind you. You take the paternity test out, and after a moment of hesitation, you start taking it. You take a sample of your spit and see that Yoongi has already done the same.
You try to keep your mind blank while you do it, but as soon as you start collecting the sample, your brain is flooded with thoughts of Yoongi and your time together. The night, the sex, everything.
You can’t help but wonder how the you and Yoongi would look together, holding a little baby in your arms with him next to you. You can’t help but think about things as if it was another universe were you met on simpler terms.
Your thoughts quickly spiral into a fantasy, and by the time you finish taking the test, your cheeks are red.
You know it’s stupid but you can’t help but think about what’s going to come after the test gets back to you. It’s going to be proof that the baby is his and he claims to want to be involved.
That he wants to be there.
That he’s here now.
Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had in your office. How you told him over and over that he had abandoned you. And in response, here he was saying that he was here for you.
You don’t know how long you can believe him and you don’t know if the desire to care for the baby will go away.
But one things for certain is that the test will come back positive.
And you’ll no longer escape the reality of what awaits you.
Before you know it, Yoongi shows up to your house a couple days later but this time you actually invited him.
You know that you couldn’t tell him at the company cause you could be caught and it’s not something you should tell him through text, so you invited him to your house.
The doorbell rings and your eyes go to the clock above the door.
It's early, but not that early. With your heart racing, you head to the door and slowly it open to reveal... Yoongi.
You remain frozen for a moment before speaking, your throat dry.
He looks as handsome as ever, though he seems more cautious and serious than usual. He knows why he is here, and you know why he is here.
So you push back any thoughts that aren’t necessary and any memories that don’t need to be brought back. "Hello," you say simply, not knowing what else to say.
"Hello," he greets you, eyes skimming over your stomach, which isn’t yet visible but will be soon.
“Come in..” you say in a quiet voice turning away from him and going to the couch in the living room. Your heart starts racing as you begin to feel anxious about the conversation that lies ahead.
Yoongi enters your house, but the air is tense. The silence hangs so thick that you could cut it with a knife.
Eventually, he speaks up, his tone stiff.
"Did you get the results back?" he asks, his deep voice cuts through the silence.
Immediately your heartbeat goes up a notch, and you silently nod in response. “I did..” you mumble, swallowing hard as you pick up the paper off the table and slowly hand it to him, your heart thumping as you watch him closely.
A moment passes as he scans the paper in silence, taking his time and processing the implications.
Finally, he hands the paper back to you, his expression unreadable and the tension in the room as thick as ever.
There, it's all out in the open now, and there's no going back. You’ve officially connected yourself to Min Yoongi.
"So... it's true then."
Yoongi's words hang in the air, heavy.
You nod, your throat squeezed shut with anxiety and worry. Yoongi's gaze wanders across your face, his expression unreadable. His mind must be racing with thoughts of what to do next.
The silence stretches on forever before he finally speaks again. “We need to talk about this," he says calmly, and his tone is decisive.
You take a deep breath before speaking. “Well, I already told you I plan on raising it alone.” You state in a low voice, not making eye contact with him.
Yoongi exhales a shaky frustrated breath, his emotions taking the wheel once more. He takes a moment to collect himself before finding the right words. "And you think I'm just supposed to sit by and let that happen?" He challenges.
You blink, and for a moment, you can tell how serious he's being and you know you’re being stubborn but you can’t help but think of all the package Yoongi came with. His career, his fans, his schedule.
“It’ll just be easier for you and for me if you weren’t involved.” You state, with a heavy sigh. Yoongi's expression doesn't change, but his body language shifts. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, the tension in his stance palpable.
"Easier for you, maybe. But don’t you think the baby has a right to know who its father is?” He asks and the question catches you by the throat and makes it dry.
Your stomach is filled with guilt, because you know he has a point. You go quiet at the moment, suddenly feeling guilty Yoongi had a right to be involved and the baby had the right to have a father.
And if Yoongi has asked this question, then maybe he was being serious. Maybe he actually cared about the child.
“So, how much do you want to be involved in?” You ask, glancing up at him to see that his eyes narrow momentarily before he responds, but his tone gradually softens as he sees the guilt in your eyes.
"I want to know the baby," he says, the softness in his tone taking you by surprise. "I want to be there for everything, from the first doctor's visits to the first words. I want to be part of its life."
You notice that whenever he says "the baby", his eyes flick towards your stomach as he speaks, even though there’s not visual of the baby even being there.
“What about your career? What about the media?” You question, slightly worried how his fans will react, how his company will react. It wasn’t everyday an idol got some random woman knocked up.
Yoongi relaxes a little after you concede the point, no longer challenging you. "Don't worry about that," Yoongi says quickly, his voice full of determination.
"The media's always going to make a big fuss, but I'll handle it. I'll handle everything. You shouldn’t stress about anything, especially if it’s not your problem to worry about."
His words make your heart flutter, but you're not sure if it's happiness or anxiety. It was like when he looked at the paper, his whole demeanor changed. His whole mindset changed, and you don’t know if you should be excited or worried.
"Listen," he says softly, "I never dreamed that something like this would happen, but now that it has, I want to make sure this baby has the best life possible. I’m not going to take the easy way out, that’s not what a real man does.” He states and despite his tough exterior, Yoongi is determined to be a present father for your child-to-be.
It’s silent again, millions of thoughts and emotions racing through your mind. “Well, I have a seven week appointment, if you want to come..” You mumble in a quiet voice.
“I’ll be there.”
He says, way to quickly.
Agust Dad—Four
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: a couple cuss words, mention of abortion
<next part>
note: this was supposed to be done yesterday, oopsies. Updated the tag list for everyone who wanted to be on it and some of them don’t work for some reason
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy
A week later, Yoongi is at your house again. But this time it feels like a dream.
Unlike the last visits, there’s a nice and expensive car parked outside with tinted windows. And also unlike the last times, he attempts to cover up his face.
He has a mask under his chin with black sunglasses that matches the black beanie he has on to cover most of his hair.
You hate that he still looks nice.
You take your eyes out of the peephole and open the door to greet him face and to face. You also have glasses on the cover your eyes (and the black bags under them) and a mask.
“You didn’t have to walk me to the car..” You mumble as you step out and close the door behind you.
“In a neighborhood like this, and a porch like this...” his voice trails off as he glances around the outside of your house with a slight repulsed expression.
You roll your eyes as you step down the stairs and to his car, quickly pushing back the thought of him actually caring about you on the way down.
“The company hadn’t really blew up yet,” you say in response to his comment on your house. “Which is probably why they sold their souls to HYBE..” you remark in a low voice as you get into the passenger seat.
You hear Yoongi snicker at your comment as he gets in the drivers seat but doesn’t say anything else. It's only a few days since he first found out that the baby was his. In the subsequent days, you've spoken at length with him about the situation.
He let you know that he had done you the honors of canceling your original appointment and setting something up with a more professional and private hospital that worked with celebrities and idols. Even though he thought you would freak out about it, you didn’t. It just shows further that he seems committed to being involved in your baby's life, which is a relief but also makes you nervous.
The two of you show up at the clinic together, and it's the first time you've spent time one-on-one since you got pregnant. It's also the first time you've properly spoken, without the usual tension between you.
Yoongi walks alongside you, his expression soft and his gaze almost gentle but also serious.
The time passes in a flash, and before you know it, you're in the room, getting an ultrasound with Yoongi standing next to you, his eyes glued to the screen as the doctor goes about her work.
Your eyes are also glued to the screen. There’s no isn’t much on it, the baby being small and it doesn’t even look human. But you can’t help but get slightly emotional at the sight of it.
“Wow,” the doctor exclaims, taking off the stethoscope out of her ears and putting it on yours instead. The other end is pressed against your stomach, and your eyes widen when you hear a fast heartbeat in your ears.
It isn’t your heartbeat. It’s your baby’s.
Your glossy eyes trail over to Yoongi, listening to the heartbeat as the doctor pull as away to look at her clipboard. She writes something down and then takes the stethoscope out of your ears. “You wanna listen, dad?” She asks Yoongi, catching him off guard.
You can tell he is caught off guard, his eyes flicking to you and then to the doctor. He swallows a lump on his throat and silently walks over to you. The stethoscope slowly goes into his ears and you watch his body freeze as his dark brown eyes meet yours.
“Well, your baby is very healthy congratulations.” She starts off as you try to tear your eyes away from Yoongi’s. “And you’re due sometime in early or mid March.”
Her sentence damn near knocks the wind out of you. This time, Yoongi’s emotions are clear to you, his eyes widen slightly and filled with emotion. You can’t help but chuckle at the crazy circumstance.
Yoongi’s birthday was in March.
You weren’t planning to go back to work until the morning sickness died down, but you can’t help but feel a different sinking filling in your stomach when you stood outside of your bosses office after he called you in.
You take a breath and walk in the door, your feet immediately freezing when you see much more than your boss in the room.
Bang Si-Hyuk.
Hitman Bang.
This couldn’t be good.
“Ah, Ms Y/N. Please, sit down.” He says when he notices you, gesturing towards a chair by the table he was sitting out.
Cautiously, you make your way to a seat and sit down and just when your butt hits the chair, the door opens.
You grow pale when you glance up and see Yoongi walk into the room. He doesn’t notice you right away, but when he does he lets out a curse under his breath. “Shit.”
This definitely wasn’t good.
“Ah, Yoongi. Come sit.” Bang says, his smile only widening when he sees Yoongi. Yoongi goes to take a seat across from you but he doesn’t seem to be thrilled that he is here.
It’s quiet for a minute, Bang Si-Hyuk just looking back and forth at you and Yoongi, analyzing the two of you but you can’t even look at Yoongi. The tension between the three of you is almost palpable.
“Just curious, how do you two know each other?” He speaks after moment of silence that feels like years. You shift uncomfortably in your chair but can’t bring yourself to answer. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as he talked.
Yoongi doesn’t bother saying either his gaze looking entirely unperturbed but even he can’t stare at his boss. He clearly anticipated that something like this would happen, and he's not ready to defend you just yet. It was like the two of you were caught kissing under the bleachers and were in the principals office.
“You must know each other well seeing as though Yoongi took you to a private doctor and stayed in there with you through the whole thing and then came out holding hands.” He speaks again in a daring and mocking tone but the two of you stay quiet, your heart thumping as he brings up the private doctor.
“Well, maybe the HYBE employee who saw you got it wrong. Maybe he was misunderstood the situation,” he says again, taking a pause as he leans closer to you. “Why were you there? Was it an abortion?”
You see Yoongi’s eyes snap up to his boss at the corner of your eye. His gaze hardens and he clenches his jaw. Si-Hyuk notices this as well and glances at you and then back at Yoongi with a dry chuckle.
He leans back and folds his arms, opening his mouth to say anything but you speak first before he can say anything else bold to provoke an answer out of Yoongi.
“It was my seven week ultrasound.” You sprout out, your eyes widening in shock as if you weren’t the one that said it.
It gets quiet again as Si-Hyuk slowly turns to look at you, looking amused as he lets out a long dramatic sigh. “Ms, are you aware that having relations with someone in the same company is not aloud?” He asks calmly and your eyes widen.
Your mortified. Panicked and scared. Your worst fear was coming to life. You were going to loose your job. As the reality of your situation starts to set in, your face heats up and you feel your heart in your throat. Si-Hyuk isn't kidding, and you're about to lose your job.
"Boss, I don't think you understand. It was a one-night thing–"
"A one-night thing that resulted in a baby." Si-Hyuk says in a clipped tone, cutting you off.
“Expect she wasn’t at the company when this happened.” Yoongi speaks up quickly for you, who is to busy panicking and frozen to point that out yourself.
“Still, no relations with one another are aloud here.” Si-Hyuk responds calmly to him.
“There is no relations.” Yoongi rebutted quickly and you can’t help but feel a sharp pain in your heart at his words, almost physically flinching back.
You don’t know why, put there’s a sting that washes over you at how fast he responded. How fast he denied having any connecting with you, days after he listened to the baby’s heart rate.
You know you’re sensitive, that maybe he was just trying to help keep your job. And you shouldn’t feel heartbroken but you do. And you hate that you do.
“Great, so you’ll have no problem with me firing her.” Si-Hyuk snaps you out of your trance, your face paling as your eyes widen.
Your eyes snap towards Yoongi in shock and you catch him get a glimpse at your mortified face as he shakes his head and cusses again. “Shit.”
“You know this isn’t fucking fair. There are laws. You can’t fire her over this.” He argues as Si-Hyuk basically laughs in his face.
“Watch me.” He says simply and you don’t know if you want Yoongi to keep defending you or want him to shut up instead. Before anyone can speak again Si-Hyuk turns towards you again. “Y/N, you’re fired. I expect your things to be cleared by tomorrow evening.”
Your mouth falls open in shock, and the color drains from your already pale face. Your heart thumps at his words, too stunned to speak as tears cloud your eyes, making your vision blur. “Wait, please-“ you try to plead in a panic.
You had just switched to this company and it was your only money source. You knew that being a solo producer was inconsistent and you were likely to get scammed by whoever you worked with.
“You’re dismissed.” He cuts you off quickly, gesturing to the door and your to stunned to speak more. You’re to shocked at everything that you can’t even peg for your job back. “Yoongi, I still have things to discuss with you.”
With a heavy breathing and a pained feeling in your chest, you slowly get up from the chair, bowing to him to side the tears in your eyes before quickly stumbling out of the door.
You can't believe that you just lost your job, all because of a mistake you made in a moment of weakness.
When you’re in the hallway you hear Yoongi start to yell at him but you can’t make out the words, you don’t want to know. You just want to get far away, and cry. All you wanted was for this day to go by normally, but instead you've been faced with the reality of your situation.
Your boss doesn't care.
Your future more uncertain than it was before.
You start to walk down the empty hallway, hugging your arms as tears fall uncontrollably as you let out a sniffle. The weight of someone’s hands on your shoulders snap you back to reality. When you turn around your face to face with Yoongi.
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, I can try to change his mind or pull some strings—“ he tries to say but you just shrug his hand off your shoulder.
“Haven’t you done enough?” You snap at him with a harsh tone but it doesn’t even make him flinch. “I have nothing now. All because you wouldn’t leave me alone like I told you to.” You have tears in your eyes, because despite everything, you desperately wanted this to work. Because you desperately wanted everything to be okay.
“So just leave me alone now, please.” Your voice shakes and is filled with emotion. Your words seem to have the effect of taking Yoongi by surprise. His arms drop to his sides and his body language shifts, his focus turning inwards. You can almost see the thoughts racing across his head.
He looks like he wants to say something too, like he is carefully picking out his words before saying them. But you don’t want to hear anything he has to say. You don’t want to see him. You don’t want him to continuously make a mess of your life.
You know how whiny you should and that you should be grateful to have an idol who isn’t willing to leave you in the dust, but you can’t help but wish he had.
He pauses for a moment and lets out a sigh, before speaking. “I have a feeling that’s going to become impossible Y/N.” He states, much to your confusion.
“And why is that?” You ask him suspiciously as your cheeks start to dry up and you let out s sniffle.
“Bang what’s to get ahead of this before the media does,” he speaks cautiously and carefully, tip toeing around the point and that makes you even more anxious. “He isn’t going to use your name, but in case someone found out he didn’t want any trace of you at the company to avoid a scandal so he had to fire you—“
“Use my name for what?” You cut him off firmly, taking a step closer to him as you look at him straight in the eyes.
“I told him I want to be in the baby’s life,” your heart beats faster at his words. You were telling him to stay away after he just told his boss he wanted to be involved. He hasn’t cracked yet.
He continues, “So before anyone else can find out, he’s releasing a statement saying that I’ve been in a two year relationship and have a baby on the way.”
Great.
Agust Dad—Five
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: nothing really, mention of throw up, twitter
<next part>
note: the calm before the storm :)
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic
Hello, This is Bighit Music…
It only had been forty eight hours later when the statement comes out on twitter. Like Yoongi had said, there’s no mention of a name. Just that Yoongi had been in a two year relationship (which is a lie) and now had a baby on the way.
ARMY were expected to give Yoongi the time he needed to spend with his girlfriend and respect his privacy.
And in response, most of his fans threatened to track you down for taking away their precious Suga. Others suspected that the company was lying (which they aren’t wrong) and others were supportive of him. Then there were the rumors about who it could be while guessing it was just a girl who was a gold digger and/or he had gotten baby trapped.
You don’t know if it’s because of the hormones and morning sickness, but the whole thing made you sick. You felt terrible. It had finally hit you that you've lost everything — your job, your relationship with your coworkers, and sooner or later your reputation. The guilt and regret set in deeply as you think back to the moment when you made the decision to have sex with Yoongi.
It all seemed so magical back then, so carefree. But that's long gone now, replaced with sadness and fear for the future.
You're not even showing yet, but even still you can't bring yourself to get out of bed. It doesn't seem like anything is worth that effort. You have absolutely no one and nothing but a trashcan that catches all of your throw up.
The only thing that coaxes you out of your bed and depressive trance is a loud knock on your door. Your stomach grows queasy as you recognize the sound, but you know you can't ignore the problem. Because you knew who the problem was.
Groaning, you eventually drag yourself out of bed, your vision swimming as you step out into the hallway.
This time, you don’t even check the peephole. You don’t have the energy to be act surprised, cause at this point, you’re not.
Yoongi.
He stands in the doorway, looking concerned. His eyes are drawn to the small pudge on your belly, and the look he gives you is full of pity. He isn’t dressed in his usual fancy black blazer or a suit. He’s dressed casually, with a plaid oversized shirt and nice slightly baggy jeans.
You said you weren’t surprised but Yoongi does the honor of proving your wrong.
"How are you feeling?" he asks softly but then he takes his eyes off of your stomach and looks at your face.
Your hair isn’t brushed and messy from laying in your bed all day, you’re certain there is throw up on the corners of your mouth and undoubtedly you smell terrible. Not to mention your red face and puffy eyes.
You watch him analyze your horrible state and get his answer before you can even say anything. It’s not like he had the strength to answer him anyways.
Then his eyes shift to your hand and that’s when you notice that you had your phone in your hand, twitter visibly open with the trending hashtag #yoongi on the screen.
“If it helps, I don’t like anything they’re saying either.” He mumbles and you see the disappointment clear on his face.
You just quickly shut your phone off and put it in your back pocket and before you can speak or say a proper greeting you notice for the first time that he’s holding a bag of groceries in his arms.
You point to the bag in his arms with a confused expression. “What’s that for?”
“Oh, for you.” He says quickly, and you see him about to hand over the bag to you but then takes a look at your stomach and quickly changes his mind. You try not to think too hard about how caring he seemed. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing the bare minimum.
Yoongi’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “I figured you’d be looking at the media and probably hadn’t eaten today, and you don't have a job anymore, so....” is all he says, his voice trailing off and you can’t help but notice the slight hint of guilt at the end of his sentence.
“It’s not much but, it’s important for you to eat.” He mumbles and you realize how incredibly dangerous it was for him to be out while he is trending. He went out of his way to get some things and risk being caught or questioned by his company, to make sure you ate.
You realize how much of a jerk you seem for just leaving him outside in the porch, especially when he can be seen. You step back from the door and shuffle to the side so he can step inside, muttering a ’thank you’ as he came in.
He follows you into the kitchen, where you busy yourself with putting away the groceries, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach. Your eyes widen even more as you start to take out items from the bag.
It’s newer ingredients and kitchen supplies that look like they haven’t been touched. You start to realize the oddly specific ingredients and combinations in the bag.
In the silence, Yoongi studies your back, the small bump visible through your shirt before jumping up when you pull out a knife from the bag.
“I was gonna make you something!” He says quickly, and suddenly he is next to you, holding your hand as he uses the other to slowly glides the knife out of your hands. “If that’s alright with you.” He says more calmly and softly when it is out of your grasp.
You glance up at him, your heart beating as you realize how close he’s standing next to you. How gentle he was being with you. “Yes, of course—“ you start to respond in a quiet voice when Yoongi’s ringer goes off.
He takes out his vibrating phone from his pocket and you get a glimpse of the user ID.
‘Bang PD’
He quickly glances at you and you realize how busy Yoongi must be now. How much he has to deal with and talk about. Yet he was here. With you. You don’t know if you should feel guilty and thankful for the fact.
To your surprise, Yoongi doesn’t just ignore the call. He declines it. Your eyes widen as you look away from the phone and up at him. “What are you doing?” You ask him with concern.
“It’s not important.” He says while powering his phone completely off and shutting it down and before you can question it he speaks again. “I don’t need it right now. And you don’t need yours either.” He states, raising an eyebrow as he held out his hand.
You pause for a moment, just looking down at his hand as he waited for you to give him your phone. You don’t have the strength to fight him on it, and you know that in the end it was probably for the best.
You slowly take out your hand from your back pocket and hand it to him. You watch him do something on your phone before shutting it down completely and putting it in his pocket.
You take a seat as he starts to get out the rest of the ingredients and start to prepare to cook the meal which he tells you that it’s going to be some chicken noodle soup.
You sit on a stool on the kitchen island, trying not to gag or throw up at all the smells of food and ingredients, but your stomach rumbles at the same time.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He says after a while of moving in silence, which snaps you out of the imaginary world you were sucked into like when he took the paternity test. A world where everything wasn’t a complete mess.
“About what?” You ask in a quiet voice, watching his back as he stirred the broth in a pot that he had brought.
“Well since the media now knows that I have a ‘girlfriend’ and unborn child, I thought it would be best if you moved from this neighborhood.” He explains calmly but cautiously, not bothering to look at you as he spoke.
“Where to..?” You ask in complete shock. You know he has a point, but you has always had a problem with big changes in life. You loved familiarity. And this was the opposite. It was unexpected and random.
"I have a place for you to stay." Yoongi says, his voice firm but he stays completely calm at the same time. "A house in Gangnam that I don’t use."
You stiffen at his words, but you know that if you said no, it might push him away. You can't afford to be stubborn with him. You had no idea what he would do next.
"It'll be safer for you there. You'll have everything provided for you. The best doctors, a good home, it’s very secure..." he continues, his gaze locking with yours. "I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby before it's even born."
“You just expect for me to up and move? What about my house? My things? This is crazy.” You say, shaking your head at the idea. Sure, it would be nice to live in a better neighborhood where you felt more safe. But to you, it didn’t seem realistic to just sell everything to live in Yoongi’s paradise.
"Don't worry, I'll sell your house for you and you can use that money to replace anything you've lost in the move. I'll make sure everything is covered, so you don't have to worry." He can see the doubt in your eyes and tries to put your mind at ease.
Yoongi seems genuine, but his words still feel too good to be true. You don't have anyone else to rely on here, so you can't really say no without risking everything.
"I can handle all of it." Yoongi says, his voice becoming more intense as he speaks, more determined. "I'll handle everything. You just need to focus on yourself and the baby, nothing more."
He looks up at you, and you realize that he's serious. This isn't a negotiation. Your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what this means.
"Listen," Yoongi says again, and this time you realize that he's pleading with you. "I know this is asking a lot. And you have no good reason to trust me. But I need you to.”
Your heart starts to pound and flutter as he talks. Your breathing heavy and your eyes wide in shock. He seems genuine, concerned, maybe even a little afraid. You can hear a little voice whisper to you to trust him, and you realize that you kind of don’t have a choice. You’d be stupid to not take his hospitality.
You open your mouth to answer him. To tell him that you’ll move into one of the extra houses he just has lying around, but the doorbell rings before you can speak.
You jump at the sound of the doorbell, and Yoongi looks up as well. “I’ll get it.” You mumble instead, slowly getting up and walking to the door, dismissing the slight concerned look on Yoongi’s face.
You step to the front of the door and lean down to peek through the peephole just in case. Your jaw drops when you immediately recognize who is at your door. You freeze in front of the door, your breath catching in your throat.
The rest of BTS.
Every member of the famous group are at your doorstep.
They look covered up, but to you, it’s clear who they are. But you have no clue why they are here. Or how they even got to your house. Or how they even knew to come here.
As you watch in shock, your mind races. What if this is about the baby? If Si-Hyuk told them about the pregnancy, maybe they know about you too, and they're here to find you.
“Who is it?” Yoongi asks, walking up behind you as you slowly turn to look at him. He looks worried, but also curious.
“It’s BTS..”
“What?” Yoongi says in shock and confusion as you slowly open the door to reveal the six figures at the door.
Yoongi looks over your shoulder, his eyes wide as he watches the BTS members crowd the doorway, his face filled with disbelief and confusion. The members of BTS look just as surprised, shifting uncomfortably on the doorstep when they meet eyes with him.
Your heart pounds in your chest and you're so stunned you only stand there silently, eyes shifting between Yoongi and his group members as they exchange glances.
“What are you all doing here?” Yoongi asked suspiciously but quickly moves backwards so that they can all crowd inside the house so they can’t be seen.
Once the door is closed and everyone is gathered at the entrance, a member finally breaks the silence.
“No hyung, what are you doing here? We have a bunch of things going on and no one can reach you.” Namjoon speaks up, his voice stern but he is clearly worried.
Yoongi glances at you before turning back to them, the muscles in his jaw clenched as his gaze is locked with theirs. “I had to check up on Y/N.” Yoongi says, his face is blank but the muscles in his jaw still clenched.
Some of the members glance at you, as if noticing you were there for the first time even though they were in your house.
Jin shows you a smile, a familiar bright and friendly one despite the tense atmosphere. “Y/N. So good to see you again.” He says and you can’t help but relax your muscles slightly at his upbeat tone.
“Excuse us, where are our manners.” Hobi speaks up, now looking at you as well. “Thank you for letting us in and your house,” he takes a pause to look around his smile flattening slightly. “Is lovely.”
“We really don’t mean to barge in, it’s just that Yoongi here was supposed to meet us at the recording studio, but never showed. We figured he was here..” Jimin explains as you try to wrap your mind around the information and the fact that all of BTS were in your house.
“So, he told you guys everything?” You ask, feeling a little self conscious about everything. And of course you meet all of BTS when you looked your absolute worst.
“He told me everything.” Jin speaks up, slightly proud and with a smirk. “These guys only figured it out a couple days ago.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Taehyung speaks up with a big foxy smile as he shakes your hand. “I can’t wait to have a little nephew or niece.” He says and you can’t help but flush red. They hadn’t really accepted you already, had they?
“Me too!” Jungkook jumps in and Namjoon sighs and rubs my temple when he sees them start to get off topic. “If there’s anything you need or want you can text me any time.” Jungkook states with a small smile and you can’t help but return it back. A side of you even started to fangirl at the sight of his smile.
“Actually,” Yoongi speaks up and you’re thankful when all of their eyes shift off you. “You can help her move.”
Three more days later after that all of BTS are gathered at your house, helping you move the little things you have to Yoongi’s shelter in Gangnam. Jin’s girlfriend Harin was also there and helped you settle down. Yoongi told you not to worry about the selling process and that the earlier you moved out of the house the better.
You couldn’t help but feel closer to Yoongi durning the whole process. Even if there was a day or two you didn’t see him, he would always make sure to text you.
You realized that what he did before locking your phone was deleting twitter all together and you didn’t have the strength to get it back yet, but overall. You were feeling better. Despite what you originally thought, having Yoongi around seemed to cheer you up.
It was nice to felt cared for, even if he was just caring for the baby and not you yourself.
It was late afternoon when you all got done and everyone headed home, including Yoongi. But what you didn’t know is that he sung by the place later in the night to check on you and make you a snack.
He knocked on the door to the house but when no one answered he did the favor of using his key to open it anyways. He slowly walked into the house, looking around before spotting you on the couch.
You were laid down on the couch, snoring softly and hugging a pillow as you slept. Yoongi glanced up at the tv in the huge living room and couldn’t help but let out a smile when he saw what was on the screen.
An old run BTS episode had been playing, and you must’ve fell asleep while watching.
Yoongi turned off the lights and tiptoed to the bedroom to pull out the blanket and drape it over you.
He studied you for a minute before shaking away some thoughts and leaving the tv on and walking out shortly. Leaving you asleep on the couch like months before.
Agust Dad—Six
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: time jump (don’t hate me for it), twitter, you kinda pee yourself at the end, panic attack/meltdown, angst, don’t worry there’s at least a little fluff in the beginning, fainting, cliffhanger-ish
<next part>
note: the storm :)
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle
3 MONTHS LATER
You shifted and turned in the mirror, studying the slight bump that phased through the expensive flowy red dress that Yoongi had convinced you to let him buy.
You weren’t all that surprised. Over the past months Yoongi had been buying the most ridiculous things for you without blinking an eye. Any weird food you wanted, Yoongi would have it in less than thirty minutes.
What you were surprised about was the main reason you wanted the beautiful dress in the first place. Jin had invited you to a party he and the rest of the boys were throwing a party In celebration of a successful Bang Bang Con.
Then he revealed he was going to propose to Harin who like Yoongi, you’d gotten close to over the months. When though you weren’t Yoongi’s girlfriend (even though it was starting to feel like you were) she still thought it would be nice for the two of you to be close.
It shouldn’t have surprised you that he invited you, but somehow it did. No matter how much time you spent with BTS, you couldn’t help but be insecure about how your connection with Yoongi happened. It weren’t proud of it in the slightest, even though Harin has reassured you many times they didn’t judge you.
But still, you had a frown on your face as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t want the new bump to be all that visible, and you couldn’t help but feel anxious and nervous.
You hear a small knock on the door before it cracks open slightly, revealing Yoongi who was already ready and in a nice black suit that matches his ridiculous long black hair.
Your heart pounds when you see him all dressed up, thinking back to the night long ago that had gotten you into this mess. You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart, like when you two first met. The warm feeling that flowed in your blood whenever you saw him.
Unlike first time, the feelings were much stronger now. You tired to push away the fuzzy feeling whenever he looked at you these past few months. The way he had gradually opened up to you and cared for you. You chalked it up to just being hormonal, but a part of you had always liked him a bit more than you are supposed to. And it was only getting stronger the times he was away training and at BangBangCon. You felt ashamed how much relief washed over you when they were finished, just over the fact that he could spend time with you again.
You were starting to get stupid and selfish again. Just like that night where you stupid and selfishly gave into him for your own pleasure and enjoyment.
Seeing that you were fully clothed, he stepped more into the room, a small smile on his face as he did so.
You turn away from the mirror to face him fully, gesturing to your dress. “How do I look?” You let out a nervous chuckle, slightly scared of his answer.
He takes a minute to study you fully, looking from top to bottom before finally responding. "Pretty," Yoongi said quietly, standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he looks at you. "You look beautiful."
Your heart flutters as you stare at him. Despite everything that's happened, you can't help but feel excited to be here, with him, in this moment.
“You definitely have a pregnancy glow.” He praises again, this time with a little playful chuckle and you turn away from him, praying that you weren’t blushing. “Thanks.”
You mess with your hair once more before grabbing your high heels and sitting in the edge of the bed to put them on. Yoongi is quick to kneel down on his knee to take them from you.
“Can I?” He trails off softly even though he already took them, getting ready to put them on your foot before pausing for a moment. He tilts his head slightly before staring at you for a moment with his eyes wide. "Are you really planning on wearing those?" He says in realization.
You nod immediately, trying to take the shoes away from him. “They go with the dress.” You state in slight confusion. You weren’t that heavy yet.
"I don't think it's a good idea, Y/N." he says cautiously, the concern for your wellbeing evident in his tone but gentle as always.
“They’re the only shoes I have for the occasion. Well flats would work but I don’t have any good ones.” You mumble, mostly to yourself before looking at him with a slight pout while trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Telling yourself for the millionth time that he was concerned for your baby and not you.
Yoongi can’t help but let out a small amused smile at your pout. "Y/N, I'll buy you the nicest flats you've ever seen, just don't wear those." He says, making a sharp gesture towards the heels he’s holding.
"You're going to be standing for almost the entire night, so wearing heels would be very uncomfortable, and besides, it's dangerous to wear heels when you're this far along in a pregnancy." Yoongi takes a slow breath, his concern for you showing more clearly than back when everything was first happening. Though he was never really hiding it from you.
“You’d buy flats, right now?” You ask, slightly surprised but suspicious. “I don’t want to make us late or have you buy more things for me.”
"Of course.“ he responds without hesitating, even rolling his eyes a little. “I’ll be right back.”
The moment he says this, Yoongi leaves the room and rushes out of the house, leaving you alone in the bedroom as you listen to the door slamming shut.
The moments you wait for him to return are painfully long, and you can hear your own heart beating in your ears. And just as you finish your thoughts, Yoongi walks through the door once again. You immediately look down at his hands, and see two bags in each, with the flats open. You sit up in disbelief. Yoongi really just came back with four new pairs of flats.
"Here they are." he says, handing you bag with a small smile. "I went to a nearby shop and told the shopkeeper to give you all the best ones. I hope they fit." he adds, his tone anxious as he waits for you to put them on.
"Oh my god." you say, shaking your head as you take each pair out. They're all the top design and incredibly stylish, and more importantly, incredibly comfortable looking. You couldn't have asked for a better selection.
Yoongi smiles as you continue to examine the shoes, your heart warmed by his gesture. You try on both on the pairs, both equally as soft and comfy as they looked.
“Thank you so much.” You say, still wide eyed as you picked the best color and design and started to walk around to get a feel. You couldn’t even express how grateful you were for him.
“Alright, let’s go.” You say, catching yourself before you can be overly emotional as the two of you rush out to his car and drive to Jin’s surprise proposal party.
The two of you pile into the car and drive off to the party. Yoongi turns to face you, his eyes filled with concern and worry. "We don't have to stay too late, alright?"
You nod your head, not too upset about it. As long as the two of you end up having a nice evening, you don't mind leaving early.
You arrive at the small spot a moments later. Yoongi does the honors of helping you out of the car as the two of you head inside of the small house that Jin rented.
The two of you walk in and look around the nicely decorated area. As you walk inside, you see that the party is underway. There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a table with snacks and drinks set up in the corner. There isn’t a lot of people there either, just BTS and some close family members on both sides.
Jin greets you both with a nervous smile, and you can feel yourself beginning to relax. This seems like it'll be a decent event, and not the tense affair that you were expecting. What helps is that it’s a private party, not a camera in sight and no reporters can see you.
“Yoongi! Y/N! Your here.” He says with a big smile despite being so nervous, giving you each a small hug. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course Jin.” Yoongi says with a small, putting a hand on his shoulders and to try to calm his nerves. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Y/N, honey, you look great.” He says giving you one last night squeezes before leaving you to mingle around.
The rest of BTS come up to greet you and Yoongi as well, feeling slightly nervous when Yoongi leaves to get you and himself something to drink.
The party is lowkey, not upbeat and filled with people speaking on top of each other as everyone mingled.
You happen to spot Harin in the distance from the couch you sat on, so you walk up to greet her. She gasp happily when she sees you, giving you a big hug as the two of you chatted away.
Suddenly, someone touches their glass to get everyone’s attention. You both turn it see all of the members in a small circle. “To a successful BangBangCon. Even though it was online it was still nice to see all of ARMY.” Namjoon started and everyone hummed and nodded in agreement, going along with the facade.
All of the members do a small speech until Jin is the last one. Jin stood up and the lights turn off, leaving the room in darkness.
A few minutes of silence and fake murmuring, Jin's voice cuts through the silence as he now stood in front of his Harin who was next to you. "Harin, we've been through a lot in the past few months. We've been on opposite ends of it all, but one thing remains constant," he says, his voice shaking slightly. “My love for you.”
A faint glow cuts through the darkness as Jin bends down on one knee, holding out a small black box in his hand.
Harin takes a moment to process everything before covering her mouth with her hand.
Jin's eyes sparkle as he looks up at her. "Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft yet strong.
Harin is speechless, her eyes widening in shock and surprise. She takes a moment before nodding her head. Tears stream down her face. "Yes, I'll marry you."
The both of them explode into tears, and the room erupts into a joyful celebration. You clap along with everyone else in celebration, your eyes even watering a little as they cried and kissed.
The party after is filled with almost everyone beside you and Yoongi getting tipsy and having fun. Lights now flashing and music now blasting through some speakers.
A little while later you find Yoongi again, happily chatting and congratulating Jin with the rest of the members. You were getting tired and wanted to leave. You were getting a headache from the lights and loud music, and quite frankly your social battery has reached zero quickly after the propose.
You saw him, smiling and laughing with his slightly tipsy younger members and simply didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. You could put up with the party for another hour or two.
But as you walked away from them, Yoongi’s head suddenly turns and meets yours. He takes one look at your face and expression and knows it time leave, so as you walk out you see him excuse and say goodbye to his members before lightly jogging next to you.
“Hey, time to go?” He asked softly, still a small smile on his face from talking with the members.
“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head quickly, wanting him to have more fun. You didn’t want to be selfish once again.
“You look tired. Let’s go home. It’s getting late anyways.” He states nonchalantly before locking your arm and practically dragging you to the car.
He opens the door for you drive home in some comfortable silence, resting your eyes and feeling warm from the nice atmosphere.
The two of you get out of the car, and as soon as you step inside, you go straight to the bedroom. You take off your shoes and lay down in the comfy bed, covering yourself in the fresh blankets.
Moments later you are out like a light but only to wake up in the middle of the night to quickly use the restroom.
You groggily get up, checking your phone to see the time. It’s an hour past midnight and everything in the house is dark and cold.
Your eyes squint as you look at the bright screen, eyes lightly skimming over your notifications. Your eyes brown in confusion when you see a familiar coworker has texted you out of the blue.
‘Y/N, is this you?’
You get a sinking feeling in your stomach looking at the text, slowly opening up your phone to see the attachment with it.
Your face pales and your throat closes in fear when see a screenshot from a video of yourself at the party. Clearly pregnant and stood directly in frame next to Harin who was staring at Jin down on one knee.
Your blood runs cold when you see the screenshot. It's exactly as you guessed it would be: yourself standing next to Harin with a noticeable baby bump.
You freeze in your tracks as an overwhelming sense of panic washes over you. Your heart is soaring at a rapid rate, and you feel like you're going to throw up.
You don't know what to do. You don't know how to handle this situation. But you find your hands shakily downloading twitter again in a heartbeat.
The moment you do the first thing you see is the screenshot had been spreading around the wildfire. You can't believe your eyes when you see the screenshot on Twitter. It's viral, quickly making its way around the platform and receiving an overwhelming amount of attention from both the media and fans.
You feel your heart sinking in your chest as you see your body in the media spotlight in this way, even though it hasn't been confirmed that it's really you.
Sometime after the party, Jin had uploaded his proposal to happily and innocently show his fans, and people had started to notice a pregnant woman in the background.
#RedDress was trending.
WHO IS SHE? was trending.
Thousands of ARMY’s were connecting the dots, putting together that whoever the woman was is Yoongi’s ‘girlfriend’.
Jealous fans are picking apart off every inch of your body, calling you disgusting names all over again just like when the official statement was released. But now ten times worse. Crazy fans were trying to find out your official identity, hoping that it would lead them to Yoongi.
You start to have a breakdown, seeing just how exposed you were now. You were crying, barley even breathing as you felt a sting of pain in your stomach. You felt hot and cold at the same time as your mind got fuzzy and clouded with all types of worry.
Your eyelids start to get heavy, your ability to get out of bed to pee now gone as black dots started to appear.
You glance towards the door, desperately trying to call out to Yoongi who was peacefully asleep in the guest bedroom but you’re so panicked and out of control you can’t even speak.
You start to hyperventilate as the black spots get bigger and your body gives out, the last thing you remember being your head hitting the bed frame as you grew unconscious.
Agust Dad—Seven
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: slight angst + slight fluff??, mention of nausea, rushed to edit this so might have mistakes
<next part>
note: it’s 1AM but I don’t careee. my masterlist is coming soon. so many people have birthday’s in October, shoutout to all the October ARMY’s 🫶🏽 thank you EVERYONE for being patient with me
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle
Pain.
Your head is pounding and thumping in your ears.
As you slowly come to, you feel nauseous and dizzy. And it only worsens when you slowly try to lift your heavy eyelids. You slowly open your eyes, your vision cloudy and your mind foggy. You try to look around the bright room, which immediately makes your headache worse as the light makes it more difficult to see.
You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes, and as your vision starts to come into focus, you realize you're lying down.
You slowly come to the realization that you're in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and IVs. A faint buzzing noise fills your ears.
You try to move, but your body is completely paralysed. A cold breeze cuts through you, making your teeth chatter and your bones ache.
You’re confused and scared and worst of all, your memory starts to come back.
As the memories of the last few days come flooding back into your mind, you remember the overwhelming anxiety you felt. You feel the nausea increase as you remember the events before you passed out. The fans picking your body apart, speculating about your pregnancy, calling you various cruel names.
You suddenly feel cold, so cold that your teeth practically click. You shiver, your body struggling to retain some sort of warmth. A sense of dread washes over you as you think about what might have happened while you were unconscious.
Underneath all of the icy breeze, your feel some of your skin warmer than the other part of your body.
You look down in the hospital bed you’re lying in. You don’t have a blanket, so when you find the source of the warmth your eyes widen.
Yoongi is there.
Right next to you, fast asleep on your legs, his hand rests on your stomach. You don’t know how long you’ve been in the hospital, or how long he has been with you, but he looks exhausted.
i’m here now
Despite how peaceful he looks while sleeping, there are clear eye bags under his eyes. And you swear you see some dry tears on his clear skin.
Your heart leaps at the sight of Yoongi, the sight of him in tears and looking exhausted breaking your heart.
You want to call out to him, but you're unable to speak. Your throat itchy and closed up.
The machines attached to your body beep and emit various sounds as the data they measure gets recorded and updated.
Yoongi shifts slightly, his eyes opening to reveal tired and puffy eyes, the marks of a man who hasn't slept in days. He sits up slightly, his eyes widening when he looks up at you and he realizes you're awake.
My throat closes even more at the sight of him slowly waking up. It’s a dangerously beautiful sight.
His beautiful eyes fluttering as they slowly open and look at you. The slow realization that you were wake. You don’t like how your heart flutters at the thought of him worrying about you. But it does.
“Y/N..?” His voice is soft and quiet sounding relieved but heavily concerned.
“What happened?” You manage to choke out in a shaky hoarse voice, staring back at him with your own widened eyes.
Yoongi's eyes flicker with worry as he sees the state you're in. Your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore, making you sound like you've been screaming for hours.
"Y/N..." Yoongi says softly again, getting to his feet and moving next to you slightly frantic.
"I should have expected this," he mumbles, his shoulders sinking. "You were already at your limit, trying to keep our relationship a secret. I should have warned Jin or something.." he can’t even look you in the face as he talks.
“I-It wasn’t your fault..” your voice is scratchy and shriveled so you’re not surprised when he still doesn’t relax in the slightest. But he couldn’t have known this would happen.
Even though he is stood up at the side of your bed, his hand stays gently planted on your stomach.
You remember the intense pain you felt before passing out. The sharp stab you felt that left you breathless.
“I-Is the baby okay?” You ask cautiously, almost scared to hear the answer and slightly panicked. You’d never forgive yourself if anything happened.
Yoongi hesitates, looking at you before nodding carefully. "The baby seems to be okay, thankfully."
Relief washes over you, and Yoongi takes a minute to let you digest the words and let you breathe before speaking again. "The doctors wanted to run a few tests, to make sure the baby is healthy. And we did, and thankfully, the baby is safe. But you’re gonna be here for a couple days to make sure.”
Yoongi looks at you, his gaze is full of relief but behind it all, you can see the beginnings of sadness and guilt. "It's not easy, Y/N, to watch you struggle like this." He pauses to collect himself, and your heart races at his words.
After all of the early mornings you spent together, after all of the things he has done for you so far. You can’t help but feel fuzzy inside. You can’t help but feel wanted and safe around him, despite how you felt earlier into your pregnancy.
You open your mouth to speak again, but he stops you quickly. “Wait—“ he says before walking to a nearby counter and grabbing a water bottle. It’s open, but it’s still almost completely full. He had been so stressed he wasn’t drinking water..?
He gets up and hands it to you, before sitting back down in the chair that he was by your legs. You quickly gulp down the water, clenching your thirst and your dry throat.
“Thank you..” you mumble with a cough as he gently takes the empty bottle out of your hands and helps you sit up. “How long have I been out for?”
Yoongi's eyes flicker as he tries to remember. "It's been a few days since we admitted you," he says carefully, trying to keep his voice gentle. "But they said you were dehydrated and exhausted, so they wanted to run some tests and keep you on observation."
“And I’ll be here for you every step of the wa—“ his voice is cut off by his phone ringing loudly. His head snaps to his pocket, an angry expression flashing on his face as he pulls it out of his pocket.
He takes a look at the caller ID and his angry quickly flashes to sadness. “It’s Jin..” he says, looking back up at you and you feel your heart get heavy.
Undoubtedly he was feeling guilty about the whole thing. He was nice to you even before the entire thing and has helped you in many ways.
He declines the call, but you can see his fingers swiftly typing away before putting it back in his pocket.
The sight of his phone brings you back to a harsh reality of what was going on while you’ve been unconscious. Or what you don’t know is going on while you’ve been unconscious.
“Have you seen..the media?” You ask in a low cautious tone. Yoongi sighs heavily in return, his head falling a bit. "Yeah," he says quietly. "The media is in a frenzy."
He shakes his head, his voice low and filled with sadness. "Twitter is going crazy. We're still a trending topic." he says softly, his tone is serious, and it sinks into your head how bad the situation might be.
"It's... not good," he says softly. "People are calling you names for keeping the baby, and they're not being very nice to me either. They're speculating how I feel about it, suggesting that I don’t care about you since I wasn’t standing next to you.“ His voice is filled with disappointment, and slight rage for accusing him of not caring for you.
You can’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation. You can’t imagine how much trouble he must be in with the company, how he must feel about his own fans turning on him.
You let out a shaky breath as you look down at your lap. Hormones kick in, and tears start to build in your eyes. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, even slightly guilty that this all took away from Jin’s big moment.
Despite being at such a low point in your life, Yoongi being here made it better.
"Hey..." Yoongi says softly, noticing you cry. “Don't worry yourself with what these people say. You're doing nothing wrong. We’re gonna focus on you and nothing else.”
He smiles at you, trying to help make you feel better. "I'll get you some food and a blanket."
He stands up and heads to leave the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.
Yoongi walks back into the room minutes later, carrying a blanket over his shoulder and a small tray in his other hand. He hands you the blanket and sets the tray down next to you.
On the tray is a small container of soup, a cup of tea, and a few small pieces of bread. It's nothing special, but with the stress you've been going through, it might be what you need.
Yoongi sits down on the bed next to you and looks at you with concern. "Do you need anything else?" he asks softly.
“No, but thank you.” You say softly as you start to sip on the soup, looking down as you ate to avoid more butterflies in your stomach.
Yoongi watches you eat, his eyes flickering with concern as he studies the way you move. You look so frail and exhausted, and he hates seeing you like this.
"It's no problem," he says, his tone light and calming.
He looks at you with a small smile, his face expressing the feeling of satisfaction that he's able to take care of you.
A couple of minutes of silence, and he doesn’t even glance down at his phone once, despite the constant buzzing.
There’s a soft knock on the door as you’re slowly eating and a nurse pops her head through the door.
Yoongi's eyes widen as he sees the female nurse walk into the room, followed by the unmistakable form of Jin behind her.
"Jin..." Yoongi says slowly in a greeting, looking over at him. He looks almost as bad as Yoongi, if not worse. You notice how exhausted Jin looks. His eyes are dull and lifeless, and there seems to be something weighing on him. You hated that you were right about him feeling guilty.
"Are you okay?" Jin asks gently, stepping forward into the room and closing the door.
“I’m okay, thank you.” You respond with a slight smile, trying to clear up his gloomy state but it doesn’t help much. He’s bright smile is replaced by a small weak one.
“The rest of the members wanted to come, but I told them you would probably be overwhelmed..” Jin says softly.
He looks at Jin and smiles again. "Thank you for coming all the way here just to check up on her."
Jin nods, his tone more somber as the stress of the situation settles on his shoulders. "I'm just glad you're up and alright. How are you feeling?"
“Better..” you mumble as the doctor clears her throat. “We’re gonna do an ultrasound now that you’re awake. And since you’re about 21 weeks along you have the option to know what the gender is if you want.” She says happily with a smile.
Yoongi listens to the doctor in silence, his eyes flickering towards you and the doctor. When she's done speaking, he gently touches his fingers to yours, squeezing them.
He leans close, his voice almost a whisper. "Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision," he says, his voice barely audible and filled with a bit of anxiety.
You glance away from him, hoping you’re not blushing by how close he is and your eyes find Jin’s. You take a pause to think about it before answering. “I think it should be a surprise for us.. So Jin can through an awesome gender reveal party.” You say with a warm smile.
Yoongi smiles slightly, and the tension is lifted a bit. "I think that's a good idea," he says softly.
Jin looks between the both of you with a small smile, taken aback by the request at first but you can see his eyes brighten a bit. "I'll do my best to plan the most extravagant party you've ever seen," he says, his voice filled with excitement.
Yoongi looks at the doctor, seeing if she has anything else to say before he nods towards her. "Can we begin?"
"Of course," she says, gesturing for you to move to the ultrasound machine.
Yoongi gently helps you move towards it, positioning you on the bed so the ultrasound machine can get a better image of you and the baby.
But of course, now you and Yoongi can’t see the baby to reveal it’s gender so the two of you close your eyes as she examines the baby. It feels like only a few seconds passed before she leaves the room with Jin, assuring you two that the baby was okay but telling you to take it slow for a week or two.
Yoongi moves out of the way and opens his eyes once the nurse and Jin leave, looking towards you. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly, making sure you're okay.
You notice the relief on his face as you open your eyes, and you smile slightly, happy that you're both okay and the baby's healthy.
“Better.” You say again, this time more warmly and lightly. The slight change in your tone brings a warm smile to Yoongi's face.
"Good," he says softly, taking your hand. "The baby's doing alright, thankfully. You need rest, though," he tells you, his voice calm and gentle. "We'll talk more once you've gotten some sleep."
“Okay..” You say with a small nod, knowing that you still felt weak and cold. Now that you knew the baby was well, you were gonna trend very carefully.
Yoongi looks like he wants to say something more, debating with himself before letting out a sigh. “This is gonna sound stupid, but I heard somewhere that by this stage, babies can hear.”
You glance up at him curiously as he said this. It makes you intrigued that he was even reading about it. “And I thought it would be cool, if the baby heard the song we worked on together.”
Your eyes widen at his words. You’re undoubtedly flushed now, but Yoongi can’t tell because he is to busy avoiding your eyes.
“It’s stupid.” He groans to himself once he hears your silence but you quickly snap out of your thoughts and quickly shake your head.
“No, no. It’s sweet. It might actually help me fall asleep.” You reply softly and Yoongi glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.
You let out a small chuckle at his stunned reaction. “I’m serious.” You mumble and he takes a small moment to study you before silently pulling out his phone and pulling up the song.
You lean back against the hospital bed, yawning softly as you do and seconds later you hear the song start playing. He sits down and scoots the chair closer to you, closer to your stomach.
Memories flood your head about your time working on the song with him as you close your eyes. How easy it was working with Yoongi, listening to the whole album, and of the party as a result. Memories you blocked out a long time ago.
But memories you know longer wanted to hide from. Memories you now cherished.
Agust Dad—Eight
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry
➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭warnings: fluff but then not fluff.., they cannot catch a break fr, rushed to edit this so might have mistakes
<next part>
note: i did NOT forget about this book believe it or not.. my parents have been on my ass about school and getting into a college. plus the motivation to write was just not there?? but i like this chapter and it’s a bit longer so enjoy (finally)🫶🏾 taglist is gonna be closed tho, sorry
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle @mint--yoongs @hyunjaespresent-deobi @yes-suga @gimeow @coffeedepressionsoup @mixedfandxms
You step out of the hospital, feeling the cool breeze on your face for the first time in days.
You stop before getting into Yoongi’s personal car, taking in the world around you after days of spending time cooped up inside.
You take a deep breath, breathing in the fresh air. The whole experience these past few days has been exhausting, both physically and mentally but you're happy to finally be able to leave, and even more happy that you and the baby are both healthy and okay. You're looking forward to going back home, seeing the others, and just getting some well-needed rest.
And the best part of it all..
Yoongi is by your side. Every second you were in the hospital he was there and refused to go anywhere that wasn’t the toilet. It was heart warming, and it made you look at him even more differently. You didn’t want to say you were falling for his caring gestures and kind admiring eyes, but it was starting to get alarmingly similar. Even if he was showing concern it still made your heart flutter slightly.
And you put all the blame for your confusing feelings on him.
Even as he held your hand and guided you to his car and out of the private hospital you felt your hands starting to sweat as you pushed back any thoughts about gushing over it.
You managed to hold in enough sweat for him not to tease you about it before he lets go to open the passenger door for you.
Yoongi doesn’t take his time to start driving and head home. He can tell how tired you are from everything, glancing at you every once in a while as he tries to keep his eyes on the road.
"How are you feeling, Y/N?" he finally asks softly. You nod slightly, feeling relieved that the pregnancy is fine.
"Good," he nods, smiling gently. As if he can understand you without you even speaking. Sometimes you wonder if co parenting will be that easy. "Let's get home so you can rest properly."
You lay your head back against the head restraint as he drove them back to his spare home.
You look over at him, pausing and thinking carefully before opening your mouth to say something. You’re nervous to talk to him, but you quickly shake away your thoughts and tell yourself to act like an adult and not a school girl.
“Thank for being here, Yoongs. You could have flew the moment you found out you got a random woman pregnant..but you didn’t.” You say in a soft quiet voice. You needed to be an adult and give him his props. After everything that has happened he hadn’t once shied away.
Yoongi flinches slightly at your words, seemingly unprepared to hear them but he lets out a soft chuckle at the nickname, something you were starting to pick up from Harin.
"No, I couldn't leave you," he says quietly, his eyes fluttering. "That... wasn't an option." He states. You’re confused on what he meant by that, and almost ask him to elaborate but think it’s better for your feelings and sanity if you just left it there.
He looks at you for a moment, his expression turning to a small smile. "I'm glad I could be here to support you."
He gives a small sigh, looking towards the road, the sunlight shining through the windshield. He looks like he wants to say more but holds it back. "You should get some rest." he says softly after a while of comfortable silence, his voice gentle.
“Okay.” You say with a small smile, turning your head away from him you tired to get as comfortable as you could in the car.
Your head slowly starts to droop forward and you begin to doze off. It doesn’t help that he is driving extra slow and extra careful, some soft music (of course BTS) playing on a low volume that sends you to sleep.
"Y/N... wake up..." you hear Yoongi's voice, and you open your eyes. You're suddenly back (to his) home and Yoongi is gently shaking you awake.
Yoongi lets out a soft chuckle as he notices your sleepy expression. “That probably felt like three minutes but I promise you it was at least fifteen. I even went around in circles to buy time.”
“Oh, thanks..” you say with a weak chuckle and a small yawn as you slowly unbuckle my seatbelt and exit the car and slowly enter the house with him.
“Surprise!”
You flinch in shock and surprise when the first thing you hear once you open the door are screaming voices. Your eyes are wide as you come back to life and analyze the situation in front of you.
There’s the rest of the members and Harin stood in the living room. You feel tired, both physically and mentally, but you're happy to see the banner, the decorations, and the cake.
Yoongi who is next you let out a soft chuckle, “Guys you didn’t have to.” Yoongi says, shaking his head in slight disbelief as Harin speed walks up to you to give you a tight hug.
You can already feel yourself getting emotional, but Harin’s hug just adds salt to the wound. “Girl, why aren’t you on your honeymoon?” You ask with a small chuckle, trying to hold back your hormonal emotions.
“Like I could relax while you were in the hospital.” She rolls her eyes at you and you just hug her tighter. “Jin felt the same way..” she adds, rubbing your back for comfort but her statement just makes you more emotional. Of course Jin would feel guilty about it.
It felt like for the first time in a while, you felt like you were liked, maybe even loved. You felt like you fit in with the boys and Harin, despite the awkward situation and how you met them. They didn’t judge you, and they genuinely cared about you.
Someway, somehow, despite all the chaos you just went through. You felt at peace.
After a few hours, they leave, and you're left to clean up the mess they made. You’re not mad at it though. It was nice chatting and eating with the group after being in the hospital for days. It was a nice distraction, and your only distraction since Yoongi still has your phone. Even though it could be seen as controlling, you know he’s just protecting you from the media. You feel crazy for gushing about the fact that he held your phone.
You take a deep breath and start to pick up, your hands moving automatically as you focus on the cleaning. You’re exhausted, your moves slow and sluggish. And Yoongi seemed to notice from the kitchen as he washed a couple dishes.
"Y/N..." he says gently, setting down the dishes and moving over to you. He gently takes the broom out of your hand and places it back where he found it.
"Sit down, I'll take care of it." he says softly. "You're obviously very tired.” He says and you’re about to object and reach for the broom but he holds out his hand and stops you.
Yoongi pauses, watching you for a few moments before he walks up behind you and takes the broom from your hands. "It'll be faster if I do this," he replies gently.
"It’s my house, Y/N.” Yoongi says softly with a small chuckle. Yoongi looks at you sympathetically, and you realize how exhausted you are.
“Alright, fair point..” you mumble, giving him one last look and he gives you a small reassuring nod. “Goodnight.” You say to him and responds back as you go to the master bedroom.
You gently close the door and pick out a change of clothes before settling down in the bed. Your muscles relax against the softness, letting out a breath as you immediately start to drift off to sleep.
You don’t know what time it is when you wake up, but you know it has to be late at night because when you open your eyes your met with nothing but darkness and silence.
You get up to use the bathroom, your blatter getting the best of you as you waddle to the restroom.
You don’t notice the slight vibrations as you pass the living room the first time, but you do the second time when you exist the bathroom. There’s the sound of soft buzzing and a quiet ringtone in the silence. It takes you a few minutes before you fully process that the ringing is coming from the living room. Then you realize it’s your ringtone from your phone. The phone you hadn’t seen in days.
You get a dreadful feeling in your stomach as you make your way to the living room. The last time you checked your phone this late, you ended up in the hospital. But still, you slowly move to the living room.
It's dark, but you see the outline of Yoongi on the couch. After a moment you notice that there's a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a pillow beneath his head.
You slowly approach him, trying not to wake up. He looked so peaceful as he slept. You smile softly at the sight. You couldn’t imagine what this was doing to him and his career. You almost felt sorry for him..
You snap out of your daze as you hear the buzzing again, turning to see your phone on the floor charging a couple steps away from the couch.
You step to your phone, taking it off the charger and tiptoeing out of the living room so you didn’t wake Yoongi. He looked like he needed the sleep.
You squint from the bright screen, not really looking at the caller ID before answering.
“Hello? Y/N?”
A voice answers before you can even greet them. The oddly familiar voice makes you physically flinch, a whole new wave of emotions and memories washing over you.
“Mom?”
You hadn’t heard the voice in a year, but you know good and well that it’s hers. You remember the way she picked up the phone and immediately started talking, asking, demanding for money. That’s the only reason she would ever call, until you finally had enough and told her to stop.
So why was she calling? Especially at this time of night?
You get a terrible feeling, your breathing getting slightly heavier as you speak into the phone. “W-Why are you calling this late? Why are you calling at all?” You question, the sleepiness almost entirely gone.
Your mother clears her throat, her annoyed and stressed tone coming through the phone.
"Y/N, you haven't picked up any of my calls or texts for the past few days," she says firmly, her voice filled with a bit of anger that you remember all to well.
"I was worried sick, thinking you had gotten hurt or worse!" your mother continues, her words quick and clipped. You immediately know it’s a lie, because she had never cared about you before. Your whole childhood she’d flip from being the most loving parent in the world to wanted your head dead on a stick. But she was the only parent you had, so you stuck with her until you moved out.
"Especially since everyone on the internet is saying that you’re pregnant with some idols baby.” she adds.
There’s a long pause.
The crickets outside fill the silence as you take a minute to think.
“Mom..how do you know that?” You ask slowly and carefully your heart slipping a beat as you think back to that terrible night. The last thing you can remember are people seeing some of your face in the video. They couldn’t have learned your identity. And if they did, why didn’t Yoongi tell you the second you woke up in the hospital?
“Hunny, everyone knows you’re pregnant,” your mother continues, her voice still filled with annoyance. “It’s trending right now on the internet, and everyone knows who you are.”
You can almost hear the smile in her voice, the way your mother always gets smug when she’s right. “...Y/N, I’m disappointed that you couldn’t tell me as soon as you found out.”
She sounds almost disappointed, like she feels betrayed by you in some way. But your to frozen in shock and fear to yell at her. Of course she would break no contract and call. She found out you were in ‘relations’ with a millionaire. Money.
Your phone shakes in your hand in fear. This whole time you were trying to keep it private, to have a normal life despite everything. And it’s all coming crashing down. You realize that your phone wasn’t just vibrating because of the call,
It was because you were getting hundreds of texts and inbox messages. Even as you shook your phone was going off, notifications from every social app you owned.
“I-I gotta go.” You say, going to twitter, only to see that your mom was right. As much as you hated to think that.
You look at the Twitter feed, your heart sinking as you see all of the pictures floating around. Your full name, your pictures, where you go to school... it's all there. For at least 24 hours.
You don’t know how, but people managed to use the clip and used face recognition to find out who you were. What was worse was that old coworkers and classmates were also speaking up and saying it was you. Your full government name was on the internet. They managed to find out where you went to school more hidden pictures of you on the internet.
You feel a tear roll down your face as you try to contain your emotions. It feels like the end of the world.
And what makes it even worse is that Yoongi didn’t tell you.
Yoongi knew, and he didn't tell you. He kept this secret from you. A secret you needed to know.
Your mother's voice filters through the phone in your hand. "Go? Why?"
"Mom, I have to go," you say again in a whisper, your voice choked up with tears. "Don't call here anymore." You don’t give her time to respond before hanging up.
You can feel your breath quickening as you try to make sense of everything that's happening.
You start to shake, your heart pounding against your chest as you struggle to stay calm but it’s difficult when you believe that your life is ruined.
You stare at your phone, trying to ignore the millions of notifications coming through. You don't know where to begin. You don’t know what to do.
Your steps are heavy as you move back to the living room, staring at Yoongi who was still asleep on the couch.
He knew the entire time. They all knew. And they welcomes you back with a party and cake. They made it seem like nothing was wrong and kept you in the dark.
Staring at his peaceful face, you no longer felt sorry. You felt betrayed.
One of your tears drop onto his face, causing his eyes to flutter before slowly opening. "Y/N..." Yoongi stirs when he sees you lingering over them.
He blinks a few times, still half-asleep as he groggily turns his head around and looks at you. He slowly sits up on the couch, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the tear on his cheek.
He realizes your the source of the tear, his expression forming into one of concern. "Y/N, you okay? Did something happen?" he asks quickly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You speak in a whisper, looking at him with my own glossy sad eyes.
“People found out who I was, a-and you didn’t tell me.” You try your best to sound strong but you can’t, mentally and physically.
Yoongi looks at you with small shock and confusion before his eyes shift to the buzzing phone in your hand.
"Y/N," he says, his tone filled with concern as he hears the shakiness in your voice but it’s clear he is trying to hold himself back from freaking out himself.
He pauses for a moment, seemingly not knowing what to say. "I was going to tell you." he says softly but that just makes you even more pissed.
“I was going to tell you,” he says again, more firmly and confidently. “But I didn’t want to overwhelm you and there wasn’t a good time.”
“There was never going to be a good time. That’s not an excuse. You should have told me!” You say, your voice rising slightly but it’s clear that you’re broken by the tone.
“Y/N, you just got out of the hospital. I wasn’t going to spring that up on you.” He says firmly but with a worried expression.
“I-I don’t need you to look after me. Not when your the reason for this mess.” You say, the words even sounding harsh to you the second they left your mouth.
Yoongi flinches, his expressions turning to shock as you say your words and you almost feel bad.
"Y/N... it's not like that," he says softly. "Please, don't say that.” He looks like he's about to say more, but you cut him off before he can.
“I-I think you should go home.” You say with a swallow, even though it’s pitch black outside. Nevermind it’s his house.
Yoongi’s eyes widen at your words, taken aback by them as he stands up from the couch. “Y/N, don’t be like that..” he says with a low tone, almost pleading.
He takes a few steps towards you, trying to get close enough to you to talk to you properly. “I had a reason, I promise and I want to be here for you. I'm not going to leave you alone... not when you need me the most." he says, the sincerity in his voice clear.
“You don’t know what I need because you don’t know me.” You say quickly and sharply, your breathing heavy. “Because despite the lies you told to the media you haven’t known me for years and we didn’t fall in love.”
There’s a long uncomfortable silence in the air as the two of you share your own looks of hurt.
“J-Just leave..” You mumble, looking away from him as you wipe your tears.
He's silent for a few moments in the wake of your words. He knows you’re right, and he knows that you probably need space.
"I suppose you're right," he whispers taking a small step back.
His eyes fill with regret and guilt as he stands up, turning towards the door. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."
With that, the door closes behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet house.
It’s silent as you try to get your feelings and thoughts under control. Your phone vibrates again in your phone and without even thinking, you chuck it at the wall.
Your phone breaks into pieces and you sit down on the living room floor, just looking at them as your heart slowly breaks with it.
Agust Dad—Nine
➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party- one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry
➭ genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au
➭ warnings: angst but also not that angsty??, rushed to edit this so WILL have mistakes, self hate talk, poor communication skills
<next part>
note: wow been a while. in the months i’ve been gone it’s turned into a new year and i’ve just recently turned the age of a legal adult (hooray?). how have you guys been? this chapter hit a lil too personally as someone who cannot communicate and pushes ppl out so i hope y’all like it😭🫰🏾again taglist is: closed.
Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle @mint--yoongs @hyunjaespresent-deobi @yes-suga @gimeow @coffeedepressionsoup @mixedfandxms
You were stupid.
As much as you wanted to gaslight yourself into the thinking that the few days of silence is just what you need to clear your mind and have some space after all of the hectic chaos going around, it wasn’t as peaceful as you hoped. The silence started to turn more uncomfortable, becoming deafening and depressing quickly.
So on the third day, when the ringing of the doorbell broke the silence, somewhere inside the self pity you had been drowning in the last couple of days was grateful.
It’s short lived.
Being the baby mama of a famous Kpop idol billionaire, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone came knocking and looking for you sooner or later. That part you guessed. What was making you nervous was the fact that you didn’t know who was going to come.
Was it a crazy fan who somehow managed to find out where you stayed (which was still in Yoongi’s house, ironically)? Was it a member of BTS themselves? Or worst of all, was it Yoongi.
The thought made you so nervous and sick to your stomach. Out of all the awkward interactions you were avoiding the one with Yoongi the most, though that wasn’t hard to do recently. You had kicked him out and broke your only form of communication aka your phone.
There’s a knock on the door a couple seconds later, not a doorbell, a knock. Then another, and another. There is a sense of urgency to the knocks, like whoever is at the door is afraid to wait any longer before trying to speak to you.
You finally get up from the bed, your legs shaking a little bit from standing. You move slowly towards the door, trying to calm your nerves.
It is too silent outside the door, and you have no idea about the identity of the person standing outside. It can be anyone, and in a way, it's scary but you have half a brain to look through the peephole to prepare yourself for whoever it is.
Your eyes widen and your face pales when you see a familiar face, one you hadn’t really thought about. Harin.
She doesn’t look her best which was unlike her. Usually she’d have on at least a bit of makeup and dress nicely, no matter where she was or where she was going. She was classy, and always had on a caring, bright smile. No matter how much struggle it was being in the spotlight because of Jin or being away from Jin because of his job, she was strong. She was everything you wanted to be, you in an alternate universe where you had met Yoongi under the right circumstances.
But looking at her now, on your doorstep with very noticeable eyebags and a dying look of worry, some guilt hits you, and all you want to do is throw the door open and cry into her arms. You had always kept people and friends at a distance, it felt so different to want to seek out someone’s comfort. Maybe this is what it was like to trust and care heavily about people, you didn’t know. Everything nowadays was new to you.
You slowly open the door with a shaky hand, your heart skipping a beat when her head snaps over to the sound of it finally opening.
“Harin..” her name slips from your mouth in a shaky breathless voice. Harin nods, her entire face filled with compassion and worry. One look at you and she can see that you haven't been doing well at all and you can only imagine the amount of pity she’s feeling.
She looks at you for a moment before speaking softly. "I heard about everything that's been going on, please... let me come inside." Her voice is calm and reassuring, as if trying to be as gentle as possible with you. She was treating you as a time bomb, and as much as you wanted that to anger you, it was impossible to be mad at her.
You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you want to tell her it’s not a good time or something. You want to turn her away, like you do with everyone else in your life, like you did with Yoongi. You want to go back to drowning in your sorrows and depression until eventually you become a rock.
But she looks so emotional, so hurt. And suddenly you don’t have the balls to push her away. For the first time ever, you let someone in. You let someone help you instead of pushing them out.
“Okay.” You say weakly, barely being able to direct your voice to her. You open the door more and move to the side so she can come inside.
Harin nods, her eyes widening as she steps inside before closing the door behind her quietly. She doesn't say anything more, going directly towards you. Without warning, she enfolds you in a warm and gentle hug.
"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry for everything," she whispers passionately, rubbing the top of your back. "I-I'm just so sorry." Her voice is small but filled with emotion.
The sudden hug catches you off guard, and to your own surprise you melt immediately into the warm comforting embrace.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” You ask, fighting back a smile as you hug her back tightly.
Harin lets out a sigh. "So, So many things," she whispers. "I'm sorry you're going through this right now, I'm sorry I haven't been there for you enough. I-"
She can't continue, her words choking her up but you are quick to shake your head dismissively anyways. “Stop. If anything I should be sorry. I took the spotlight off of you and Jin’s special accomplishment. I messed up your proposal and I’ll probably just mess up your wedding too so you shouldn’t even invite-“
“Stop,” she’s the one to say it this time, frowning and shaking her head. “You’re absolutely going to be at my wedding. You’re my best friend.” She says passionately, pulling away from the hug to look you in your eyes. “I'm not letting you go through this alone, no matter how hard things get..."
“Thank you, Harin.” You respond in a whisper, your heart fluttering as you pull her back into the hug tightly. Seconds after there’s a small stab of pain in your stomach, causing me to groan and close your eyes and lean onto her for support.
Harin flinches as she feels your sudden
movement towards her, then notices your hand grab onto your stomach. Her heart sinks when she realizes what it means, her eyes flaring with shock and concern.
"Your stomach... does it hurt?" she asks softly, her voice filled with worry for you. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah..” you take a step back to ground yourself. “Just been stressed lately.” You mumble, trying but failing to reassure her.
"I know the feeling..." Harin whispers, still looking at your abdomen. “Come sit.” She says, holding your hand and ushering you to sit down.
“Thanks..” you mumble, slowly sitting onto the couch as Harin watches you closely as she helps you settle. "You sure everything with the baby is okay?" she whispers softly, her eyes filled with concern and worry.
“I think.” ‘I hope.’
“I don’t want to go outside, let alone a hospital.” You say with a sigh, looking up at Harin who gives you a sympathetic expression. She nods in understanding, “I know how you feel," she says quietly. "The outside can be so scary at times... especially when there are so many people watching your every move."
You let out a small smile and nod, of course Harin understood. You couldn’t imagine all she had been through when she first started dating Seokjin. It was a relief to have at least one person who knew what you were going through. Her and someone else.
“..How’s Yoongi?” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a tiny bit concerned curious about how he was doing. But you knew a part of you were asking from a place of guilt, some part of you knew you had overreacted the slightest bit. Because it was like you, to push people away when things got too serious.
Harin’s eyes widen in surprise, almost as if she was surprised you even brought him up. She blinks a few times before speaking. "I talked to him earlier today," she whispers softly.
She opens her mouth again, lashing hesitantly before actually saying anything. She looks at you for a few moments, debating on whether or not she should continue. She looks thoughtful for a moment - then lets out an exhausted sigh.
"He's been really worried about you," she states honestly, letting out a short breath. "He was really hurting when you kicked him out... honestly, he's not doing too well right now."
“Really?” You don’t want to admit that the news is sickening, because you still cared about him, despite everything. Harin nods, “Jin says it’s worse than when they first debuted. Overworking himself, not eating, not speaking.”
Your elbows go to your knees as you bury your face in your hands. To say you felt awful was an understatement. “I don’t know what to do, Harin. I just..I felt hurt. He kept something so big from me no matter what the reason.” You shake your head, swallowing nervously.
“What would you have done?”
She winced, thinking about if she was in your shoes. "I... I would have heard him out, before I made my decision," she says softly and you sigh, knowing she was probably right. "I understand that you felt betrayed," she admits. "But it wasn't intentional, he just didn't know how to talk to you..."
She looks at the ground, her voice softening even more. "He didn't know how to handle this... honestly, neither one of you do. But there's still a chance you can work things out if you talk to each other."
You swallow, tears welling up in your eyes as a bunch of emotions cloud your mind. “I don’t know how to do that Harin. How to communicate.”
Her face immediately softened, pulling you into another hug. “Give it as much time as you need for yourself," she continues. "Just don't shut him out... he wants to be there for you... just like I do."
Harin looks at you for a moment then smiles. "You're not alone now, okay?"
Your eyes go to the phone in pieces next to the wall at her words as your mind wanders to similar words.
i’m here now
The first stupid text that started everything. The text that you stupidly didn’t listen to. The stupid text that showed how horrible you were for not communicating when he was.
You were stupid.
Great fic, will there be more ?
Our Own World: Chapter 1
Warnings: None really, maybe cursing? Type: No set genre Authors Note: None.
Your brother and his fiance had planned to travel to the Netherlands so he could properly meet her family since they had only spoken by phone or skype.
Afficher davantage
I know this fic on on hiatus but I just wanted to say that ot was really good 😁😄
number neighbor masterlist
Genre: Social media AU, fluff, crack, mild angst
Pairing: idol! Yoongi x music student! Reader
Status: Ongoing
Updates: ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY
You decide to text your number neighbor when you’re bored at work. Who would have guessed that your neighbor would be kind of prickly and highly secretive? And that you’d like to mess with him? Yoongi, meanwhile, doesn’t know what a “number neighbor” is, but he does know that you make him laugh, so he supposes he’ll allow it. For now.
📱 profiles pt. 1
📱 profiles pt. 2
📱 part one: low-budget horror movie
📱 part two: classified information
📱 part three: i smell drama
📱 part four: dick willy johnson
📱 part five: good-natured insulting
📱 part six: dicks everywhere
📱 part seven: the bar is so low
📱 part eight: good oral hygiene
📱 part nine: third degree face burns
📱 part ten: vibrating with excitement
BTS's fics/reaction I should write (Part 1)
@shakespeare-in-the-park7 @cutysexylovelyarmy @yourmagnanimousholiness @persnyako @jimintaemin @duckandrobin @itsgettingweirds-blog @mrowphine @fyrreflyy @daichiduskdrop @lilientulpe @strawblueberrys @jinniejax @btsfluffsworld @stellauniverse
BTS's fics/reaction I should write (Part 2)
@shakespeare-in-the-park7 @cutysexylovelyarmy @yourmagnanimousholiness @persnyako @jimintaemin @duckandrobin @itsgettingweirds-blog @mrowphine @fyrreflyy @daichiduskdrop @lilientulpe @strawblueberrys @jinniejax @btsfluffsworld @stellauniverse
Fangirl pt. 1
INITIALLY POSTED ON MY FORMER PAGE: bts-teaspoonff
Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Idol A/U
Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader
Rating: PG
Summary: Y/N, being a huge fangirl, finally got her chance to work alongside her favorite idol group as a backup dancer. She gets to know each member personally and realizes that her feelings may be more than fangirl-idol attraction.
Word Count: 3K
PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | …. masterlist
“It’s finally here!” I shouted as I bolted from my room towards the front door to greet the delivery man carrying my package. Even without looking at the mirror, I could feel my smile going up to my ears and my heartbeat furiously echoing through my chest. The delivery man handed me a medium sized box and stared at me as I reach out for the box with a huge smile plastered on my face. I signed the delivery form, closed the door and ran back inside my unit.
I ran to the living room and placed the box on the floor. I turned to my left and hurriedly rummaged for my cutter inside the drawer beside the sofa. I also took my phone on top of the said drawer and placed it on my lap. I swiftly sat down on the floor in front of my package with the cutter ready in my hand when I remembered something. I unlocked my phone and proceeded to video call my brother who’s at work. My brother’s name and his photo appeared on the screen as I wait for him to answer the call.
“Hey Y/N…” His face popped up on my screen. I silently giggled at the angle of his front camera when he answered the call. Not really flattering despite him being good looking. He must have placed the phone on a table directly below his face. “You know I’m at work right? Why did you call? Emergency?” I could hear keyboard sounds in the background. He must be busy typing on the computer as he didn’t bat an eye on his phone while talking to me.
“Yeah I know. I just wanted to share some good news” My camera is facing towards me with just my eyes peeking through screen. I was worried that maybe he’s with some people at work that might see me when he answers the video call and I’m not decent looking right now. “My package has arrived!” I low-key squealed as I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button on the screen and directed the camera at the package. I could see my brother looking now at the phone. He placed his phone in front of him and leaned it on a stable surface for him to see me properly. He continued to type slowly on his keyboard as he steal glances on his phone screen.
“Don’t tell me…. You bought another merch?” He giggled as he looked at his phone screen and continued to type on his keyboard. He looked back at his computer screen after a second, with a smile on his face. I opened the package with my cutter on one hand and my phone on the other. Tearing through the tape, I can’t contain my excitement as i shrieked when my cutter got through the end of the tape. I released the cutter from my hand and pushed it aside.
“BTS Merch! Oh my god, I have been waiting for these for weeks. I got the latest album, more Tiny Tan figurines, and some concert goods from last tour.” I proceeded to open the box and showed my brother the contents. I felt accomplishment as I look at all the merchandise that has just arrived at home. My ARMY heart couldn’t contain the joy that I have right now. I shot my eyes back on the phone screen and saw my brother smiling as he looked at me through the phone screen.
“Hey, I’m happy you are happy but you know I work in Big Hit right? I work for them?” He stopped typing, took the phone back in his hands and brought the phone close to his face. “I could just easily buy these things for you with my employee discount.” And now his whole face is occupying my phone screen.
“Jiyong, I know but where’s the fun in that? I want to buy these items using my own money. Well, an employee discount is nice but I don’t want to abuse your privilege as I buy too much of their merchandise.” I snorted at the fact that I really do buy too much of their merchandise. Besides, when I use his employee discount, the items are delivered directly to him as he works inside the Big Hit Building. With the amount of merchandise that I buy, I don’t want to embarrass him and label him as a big fanboy especially with him working so close to the boys.
“If you weren’t my twin sister, I would totally laugh at you. Not that I think you’re crazy but you’re…. loyal” He puts emphasis on the last word. He respects my deep profound respect for the 7 boys but he thinks that maybe I have gone too far with the purchases. He placed his phone back in front of him, leaning on a surface. “Oh before I forget, did you read my email?” I was taken aback with topic change but I’m used to it as he does this all the time. I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button once again for him to see my face.
“No, I haven’t opened my email yet. I went home so late last night. My last client in the gym arrived late so we finished late as well. A bummer.” I scoffed as I remembered the fatigue that enveloped my body yesterday. I work as a gym trainer/physical therapist full time and a dance teacher/choreographer as my sideline. I work at my friend’s gym located in the heart of Seoul as a gym trainer. I currently handle 7 clients, some who I have worked with for a few years already. I also teach dance classes at a small dance studio just a few blocks from where I live. Mainly, I handle BTS dance classes because duh, I am a full-blooded ARMY. I really tried to make my passion as a source of income and it warms my heart to see people having fun when I teach them those dances.
“Check it. Anyways, I gotta go. I still have a lot to do. As you know, the company is busy since BTS will be releasing another album sometime this year.” My brother currently works as a Recording Engineer in Big Hit. He used to brag to me that he’ll spend hours with BTS and TXT. I was jealous of course but I am so proud he’s working for them. Whenever I listen to songs from Big Hit artists, I try to think that he has contributed to a lot of songs despite not knowing what exact songs he has worked on. Another reason why I listen and support them.
We both said our farewells and dropped the call. As I took out all the contents of the package unto the floor, I used my phone on the other hand. I opened my mail and saw few unread emails. Some of them were from my subscriptions on Netflix and Spotify, which I barely read. On top of the list was my brother’s mail. I saw the subject “READ THIS FANGIRL!” and I laughed. Here I thought he sent me something urgent or important that needs my utmost attention. Must be another event or merchandise that they’ve yet to announce to the public.
I opened the mail and my eyes were glued to the first line of the message body.
“Big Hit is hiring backup dancers. See the forwarded email below, sis. I think they’re meaning to assign whoever they’ll hire as part of BTS dance team.” Did I just receive this email? It came from my brother so it must be true. He won’t prank me like that. If I apply, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be hired right? That’s too bad if I won’t be hired but there’s nothing to lose if I try to apply.
I left my package scattered throughout my floor and ran towards my laptop lying on my bed. I sat down on the floor beside my bed and opened my laptop. I felt like a kid but here I am, rushing to find my resume to apply for a new job that might eventually change my life.
….
It’s been a week since I applied as a backup dancer for Big Hit. I sent in my resume and a few videos of me dancing to some of their artists’ songs. I’m lucky to have known a lot of BTS’ songs and choreographies by heart and I might have tried to study some of their label mates’ songs as well. I haven’t received a reply back from them and I’m worried that I may not receive any response ever.
Apparently, BTS is known for having only male backup dancers as far as I know so it’s news to me that they’re hiring female backup dancers now. It got me thinking that this might also attract fellow fangirls like me to apply but knowing Big Hit, they wouldn’t want anything scandalous to happen just because they hired female backup dancers. I’m not saying that female dancers lack professionalism but how the boys are the top rank boy group in the country, female fans would be green with jealousy if they see female dancers dancing with them. Some Armies are really protective when it comes to the boys so it’s really shocking to hear that the company is finally considering this.
The day that I got the mail from my brother, I spent half of my day planning what dances to shoot and submit. I chose BTS’ Idol and Singularity, TXT’s Crown and a freestyle dance to Beyonce’s Yonce. I wanted to showcase my range in dancing by carefully choosing a variety of songs. I admit that the reason I may have applied to this job is partly because I’m a fangirl but nonetheless, my passion for dancing is bigger. I have been dancing since I was a kid but I was not this confident at the start. It’s hard to convince me to perform in front of a bigger audience, let alone a stadium full of fans. I slowly got over my fear little by little when I started teaching dance classes at the dance studio. The fear is still there and you may wonder why I am applying for this job when I’m scared shit in performing for a large audience. BTS taught me to love myself and I am really trying my best to go out of my comfort zone. I figured that this may be my best chance in doing so. Also, I get the benefit of working alongside them which is a big plus.
I couldn’t really focus on my job for the whole week. I find myself regularly checking my mail in the hopes of getting a response from Big Hit. 5 days and there’s still no mail. Maybe my email just went to their spam folder or maybe I typed in the wrong mail. On the 7th day while I was pulling out my clothes in the dryer, I heard a ping from my phone from across the hall. I left my phone on my bed and the laundry room is right beside my room. I noticed that the ping was my assigned tone for mails. I hurriedly took out all my warm dry clothes and unto the basket, closed the door of the dryer and turned the lights off in the laundry room.
“New Mail. Subject: Dance Team Application” I saw the notification banner and my heart just jumped out of my chest. I felt my forehead sweating profusely, fingers shaking and my throat closing up as I try to open my phone and check my mail. I silently and swiftly read the contents of the mail. After two seconds, I shrieked at the top of my lungs and threw my phone across my bed. I ran out of my room and in circles around the living room. Good thing I live alone so that I could just celebrate and make loud noises like this. I jumped up and down on the sofa while etching the image of the mail into my head. I buried my head on my pillows and shouted once more, emptying all the air out of my lungs.
I ran back into my room and read the mail again.
“Good day, Miss Y/N.
We have received your application and we are glad to say that we are impressed with your resume and skillset. We would like you to come in our office tomorrow so we can meet and talk personally with our dance team. We are glad to have you join our current dance team. Details of our meeting are expressed below.
Time: 10 am
Address: 42 Teheran-ro 108-gil, Daechi-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea
Attire: Comfortable Casual
Please look for Mina at the front desk to escort you. Thank you.”
I still can’t believe what I’m seeing. Did I just got accepted? As a backup dancer? For Big Hit? Maybe for BTS? I’m such a lucky fangirl. I can’t wait for tomorrow.
….
It’s a good thing that my schedule is free today. I don’t have any clients in the gym scheduled for today and the dance studio is closed for today. I was so nervous and excited at the same time. I woke up at 6 am as I feel my jitters bothering my sleep. I tried to go back to sleep but I trashed the bed and rolled side to side for about 30 mins so I decided to go for a run. I turned on my Spotify and played my ‘Intense Run Playlist’ which mostly consists of high bpm BTS songs. There’s a jogging path near where I live and the scenery is filled with trees. Very calming, which I really need right now.
I arrived in front of the Big Hit Building around 8:30 am. I made sure to arrive early as I don’t want to be late for the meeting. I’m so anxious right now if I’m allowed to go up as early as 9 am or should I just arrived on time. I lingered outside and paced back and forth at a nearby shade. I wondered if I could visit my brother and stay with him for the mean time.
“Is she a stalker?” I heard whispers coming from my right as I slumped back at the pole where I’m taking shade just across the building. “That’s scary.” Three schoolgirls were standing a few meters away from me. They were staring and smirking at me. I wondered why they would think of me as such then I realized that I wore my hoodie up to cover half of my face.
“I’m not…”
“Good luck stalker-nim. You won’t get a glimpse of the boys.” They giggled and ogled me with judgmental looks with their arms across the chests. “Can you get away from the boys? We don’t want stalker armies like you.”
“As I said, I’m not a stalker and I’m older than you. Why are you talking to me in an informal tone?” I pull my hoodie off my head and slowly tread towards them. They laughed and ran away at the sight of me making my way to them. Sheesh, do I really look like a stalker?
I looked at my watch and it’s still 9:10 am. I guess I could try and visit my brother. The fresh morning air blew gently in my face, as if to welcome me, and be my merry playmate, and the sun looked at me with a warm and tender smile. What a nice start to my day, I thought. I put up my hoodie again and I was comfortable once more with the warmth my mere hoodie gave me.
“I have a meeting in your building today. Do you want to meet up? I’m not due until 10 am. – your adorable look alike” I texted my brother and inserted my phone back in my pocket. I breathed in the fresh breeze and not a second later, my phone pinged. I pulled out my phone to see my brother’s name on the screen.
“Lucky, I’m on a coffee break. I’ll be down in a sec.” he replied. A grin was present on my face as I stood up from where I was leaning. I skipped from across the street towards the building. I looked above at the sky and towards the top of the Big Hit Building and when I returned my gaze back in front of me, I was met by a dark haired man in his mid-twenties. I bumped into him and was knocked down at the side of the street. I exclaimed in pain as I rub my backside.
“Hey look where you’re go…” I looked up and immediately recognized the face. The man was wearing a grey Fear of God shirt paired with black baggy pants. His face was half covered by a black mask and his hair was kept away from his face with a black headband almost occupying his whole forehead.
“You should be the one watching you’re going. Crossing the street while prancing around like that.” He scoffed and continued to make his way towards the building. He didn’t even help me up. I sneered back.
“I’m sorry. I assure you that he’s not usually like this. He’s in a bad mood.” Two hands were suddenly around my elbows, propping me up from the ground. I turned my head and saw a woman around mid-twenties as well. She was carrying an opened big black bag propped on her right shoulder with filled with piles of unruly papers stuck inside. When I finally was able to stand up properly, she took off her hands from me and bowed in apology. She swiftly followed the man and shouted, “Yoongi, wait. I can explain.”
So I was right. It was Suga. All the images of a funny and loving Min Yoongi ran through my mind. Just like a scary movie, it was replaced by a disgusted look he shot at me a while ago. Did he…. Maybe he thought I was a stalker or something? I guess if I really looked like one then I don’t blame him for shooting those looks at me. However, a decent person would help anyone up in that situation.
I beat the dust off my hoodie and slowly treaded towards the building’s entrance. Not a really good way to start my first interaction with anyone from BTS, I thought.
Next part: 2
I want to post a teaser for a for an angsty Yoongi story that I am working on but I fear that nobody will read it lol...
ESCAPE (Teaser)
March 21st 2021 02:27AM
“Y/N, today was just not your day…” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes to relieve the sting caused by a severe lack of sleep, your shoulders gradually sinking further down as you sigh deeply…
You slowly open your eyes, not really focusing on anything in particular, only faintly aware of the sounds of the inky waves gently crashing onto the shore line at this ungodly hour. The beach used to be your happy place. No matter what was happening in your life, be it good or bad, just sitting on the shore line and looking out at the ocean has always calmed your soul. The back and forth motions of the waters, the sound of the waves overlapping onto the sand, the slightly salty smell that lingers in the quiet breeze… It was your own little piece of heaven.
Also, it was free.
Having the beach nearby is just about the only good thing about this crappy little town.
Being born into a family that was just above the poverty line, you had to learn quickly that you were not afforded the same opportunities as others, that nothing in life came easy and that you had to fight to survive and earn your place in this world.
That’s exactly what you were trying to do, earn your little place in this world, before your entire life got turned upside down.
When you got off the bus with your suitcase and duffel bag 2 weeks ago, you knew that this was going to be difficult. After everything that you did to leave this town behind you, you were somehow back to square one.
“Finish high school, find a job, work hard, make some money and get the hell outta this place!!!” That’s what you told yourself daily, like a mantra, from the age of about 10 right up until you left this town the year you turned 18 and graduated, 7 years ago… You thought that once you left here, you’d never return… There was nothing for you in this town, so why did you choose to come back here, of all places?
Another sad sigh escapes your lips as your hands which are buried in the pocket of your hoodie instinctively spreads over your swollen belly…
“Because…” you say softly into the night breeze as the tears that you’ve been holding in for the last 6 months finally roll down your face, “this is the one place that he will never come looking for us…”
yoongi our 6’5 nonchalant dread head😍😍😍
minted (explicit) | myg
title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here
—
—
Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked.
Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind.
And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst.
Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself.
But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat.
All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.
But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.
And today is no different.
You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks.
If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.
When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.
Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits.
It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.
Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans.
Another day. Another exchange.
In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.
After a while, you do try talking to him.
Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is.
One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house.
“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away.
When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.
Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.
“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.”
He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,
“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.”
When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly.
“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off.
Well.
Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.
Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart.
From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers.
You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together.
Taboo, even.
But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just…
“You always stare this long?”
Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”
To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”
“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span.
Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag.
Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day.
But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”
“Didn’t choose these.”
Ah. Way to assume things.
Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.
But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall.
“What.”
“I worry sometimes.”
His gaze lifts. “About me?”
“Yeah.”
You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to?
Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.
Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.”
Someone like him? What does that mean?
Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.
You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.”
Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.”
“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday.
These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest.
It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.
“Here they come!”
“Bunch of idiots this time.”
“What do you mean this time?”
Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.
After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact.
And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets.
Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.
Here it goes again.
As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.
No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—
Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.
Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”
“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”
“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”
Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.
More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter.
Then it’s done.
After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street.
“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans.
Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?”
Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too.
A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.
“You should find another place to sell, dear.”
In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?”
“Don’t underestimate your elders now.”
“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”
“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.
If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead.
At least they seem to be more fair.
After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought.
Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point.
Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.
Still so odd…
But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return.
Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.
By none other than your favorite set of hands.
What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand.
Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—”
“Course I don’t.”
That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again?
Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”
With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again.
What the hell is up with today?
Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now?
Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too.
Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.
Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first.
Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.
Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously.
You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached.
It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.”
You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.
Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time?
Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street.
It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.
When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.
Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.
Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.
Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.
God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.
“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”
“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.”
Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.”
Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one.
Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.”
He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence.
But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home?
Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.”
He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences.
“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.”
Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over?
His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.”
Ah.
This version of him is not good for you at all.
When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!”
Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk.
What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting.
And he looks impatient as hell.
Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived.
Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?”
Silence has never been so booming.
In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second.
Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question?
Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks.
After a condescending puff, he only smirks.
Then he takes one step. And another. And another.
The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it.
Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.”
Oh.
Why did… you kinda like that?
Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.”
This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence,
“Always took you for a good girl.”
Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.
Yoongi.
For a hardened soul, his name is so…
Tender.
For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once.
But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi.
As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.
The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.
“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right.
Left seems promising.
You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for.
It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared.
Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.
Find a meal.
Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.
A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.
But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby.
What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.
After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance.
Always facing the entrance.
Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out.
The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form.
With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down.
Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed.
But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months.
Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth.
At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the…
Ambiance.
Wait.
Dragons. A lot of them.
You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal.
But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass.
…Yoongi?
His jacket. The colors.
He’s in Dragon?
Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.
As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge.
Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere.
So what the hell is Dragon doing here?
From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers.
Hold on, what—
“What are you—”
A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past.
All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke.
And just like that, your reunion is over.
Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—
A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling.
Shit.
Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company.
Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often?
Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.
Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time.
Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here?
With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side.
Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase.
Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.
But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win.
Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful.
Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.
Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.
An inhale.
Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.
This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.
Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.
Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.
And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on?
Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—
Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.
But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.
Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?
You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.
He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight.
“Where’d they go?”
“Upstairs!”
Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now.
With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.
Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.
The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you.
What do you do? What even can you do?
Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance.
Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking—
Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!”
It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.
Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—
Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.
“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.
Luckiest timing of your life.
“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!”
Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him.
Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do…
This one thing…
…
Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you.
And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck.
Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,
“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.”
“Excuse me?”
Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply,
“You shouldn’t be up here.”
What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?”
Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.
But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet.
“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.
But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward.
Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.
…Are you?
More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant.
God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now.
But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.”
Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”
“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.”
“I—I didn’t mean to—”
Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages.
You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill.
“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.”
Live with it. How poetic.
You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor.
“Are you coming or not?”
You’re gonna puke your guts out.
With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps.
Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling.
When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe.
The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs.
No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down?
Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same.
Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”
His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”
“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.”
Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
“Where’d he go?”
“It’s gone!”
Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.
As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now.
Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?”
He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit.
You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought.
This is going too well.
But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now.
Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.
But suddenly.
Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded.
And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,
“Looks like you’re in it now.”
Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime.
Yoongi’s right.
You’re in it now.
And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run.
You’re really doing this.
Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go.
At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.
Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”
Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front.
“Get back here!”
“You fuckers!”
Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?
When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns.
He’s grinning.
You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine.
And he’s… enjoying this?
You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—
You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees.
Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.
Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.
Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit.
Yoongi? He waited for you?
“Go!”
Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between.
An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.
Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck!
Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes.
Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face.
Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!
“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life.
Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no.
Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is—
Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd.
“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”
“You good?”
Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”
“Then keep up.”
Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.
If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.
Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside.
Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in.
And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear,
“Kiss me.”
“I said get out!”
“What?”
“Come here.”
You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—
“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.”
Oh.
You were just… Oh.
Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either.
“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”
You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”
What is he getting at you need to leave fast—
“Agust.”
…Huh?
Agust?
This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun.
When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight.
Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?
When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes.
And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever.
“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”
To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey.
“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”
Oh, fuck that.
Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.
He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck!
“You bastard—”
“You’ll live. Drive.”
“Fucking—fuck!”
The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.
He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day.
So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.
Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?
The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts.
Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory.
Did you both really make it this far?
Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do.
Rest. Sleep. Home.
With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three.
Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not.
“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.”
When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.”
“Just listen to me.”
“Why?”
“Do you trust me?”
“No.”
That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it,
“Good girl.”
And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right?
Right?
“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop.
That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—
Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it.
Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for?
Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up.
But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”
“Yeah—”
“Then get up. Get up.”
Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again.
What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all.
You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive.
Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district.
Han Station is a floating railway?
Holy shit, where are you?
Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head.
Oh.
The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—
Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward.
Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head.
You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?
“Come on!”
Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!
The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.
Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”
“No!”
“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”
Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore.
“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?
You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name!
“Agust!”
Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle.
He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”
After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt.
He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.
Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.
Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.
Just like that.
You made it out.
What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now.
Finally, finally, finally able to breathe.
But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.
As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection.
Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way.
You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,
“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”
But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry.
When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”
“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”
“Quiet.”
Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by.
Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time.
Your tangerines…
When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away.
No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal.
The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.
Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.
The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake.
“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.
Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.
Where are you now? Where are you getting off?
You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers.
But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.
You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.
“We’ll stay here.”
We? Stay?
“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.”
At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?”
“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.”
Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,
“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.”
Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.
Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.”
Mm.
After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow.
Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?
While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder.
This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have?
Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.
If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now.
Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust.
Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,
“Just wanted to.”
Your heart trips into the next beat.
On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.
And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.
Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train.
A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—”
“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.”
“Understood.”
Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling.
How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with?
…Who exactly did you save?
Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into.
Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman.
Right before sliding doors shut the world out.
—
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a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ minted masterlist (coming soon!)