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#btsfic
kithtaehyung · 4 months
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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg
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title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️
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Words abandon you.
They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 
All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 
Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 
Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 
“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 
“Course I do.”
Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—
“I was there.”
Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…
No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 
With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 
“I was.” 
The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 
You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 
Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 
It’s just not the right time. 
“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 
Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 
Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—
“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 
And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 
All the words around you just as speechless. 
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Just like that, you’re gone again.
After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.
Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 
Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 
At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 
Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 
As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 
And a little bit of summer rain. 
It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 
What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 
How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.
But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 
Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 
There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.
But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.
After three months of questioning his existence. 
All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 
And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.
Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 
Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.
The fuck.
Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.
Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.
And he doesn’t see your name.
Dumbass: 1 New Message
But your brother’s.
What the hell does he—
Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.
…Shit.
Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.
He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 
Shit. 
Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 
Why can’t he fucking move? 
Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 
Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 
Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.
“Hey, you coming?”
“Huh?”
“We have that session in thirty.”
The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 
“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 
Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 
But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.
“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 
Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over
Fuck!
“You okay?” 
“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 
“Nah, come now.” 
He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 
Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 
But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 
Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio
“On time? You better!”
Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 
As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 
“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 
Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 
“Shit, I know.” 
“We can’t keep doing this.” 
“Dude, relax, I get it.” 
“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”
Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 
“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 
Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 
And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 
“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 
Dumbass: Incoming Call 
Of fucking course. 
Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 
“Wait, where are the—”
Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 
“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 
“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 
“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 
“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 
Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 
“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”
“Shit.”
There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.
“Okay, fine.” 
Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 
Delusion is a great place to stay.
In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”
“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”
He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 
There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    
Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 
“Everything, Yoong.” 
But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 
So, so far away. 
“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”
Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”
“Just lemme know when you get back.”
Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 
“No running.”
“K.”
When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 
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“How did that sound?” 
Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 
“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 
Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—
“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 
“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 
Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 
Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.
Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 
Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—
“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 
What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 
Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 
Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 
Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 
“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 
“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 
Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 
“Kidding. Only a little.”
Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.
Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.
Choosing not to say what he wants to. 
Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 
…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?
Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 
“Do the chorus again.” 
The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 
“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 
“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 
Done. He said it. 
And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 
Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—
“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 
Huh. They’re gonna take that? 
As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 
The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Yeah, we can try that.”
“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”
Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”
“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”
Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 
“Let’s see how it sounds.” 
“K.”
Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.
A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 
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The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 
After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.
It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 
Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 
“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”
Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 
Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”
“Nothing.”
“You sure.”
At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 
But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 
Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 
Hustler: Incoming C—
Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 
But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 
Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 
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As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 
It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 
Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
Straight to voicemail? Shit.
Hustler: Outgoing Call
Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 
Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 
Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 
That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 
Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?
Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 
It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 
Hustler: Outgoing Call 
When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.
Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 
Shit. How much of that did he witness?
“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”
Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 
“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 
“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 
And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 
Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 
To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”
Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 
An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 
Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.
What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 
No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 
“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 
Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”
“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”
What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,
“It’s the food next door, huh.”
That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.
Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.
Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 
And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 
“If there’s something you need to get through...” 
Stare, and stare, and stare some more.
“Hit it until it breaks.”
Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.
As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.
And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.
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Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 
And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 
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Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 
Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 
But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 
And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.
Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.
And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 
Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 
And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 
At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 
What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 
But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 
Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 
Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.
But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 
Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—
“I went to Jimin’s last night.”
…What. 
Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”
His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,
“Care to share what’s been going on?”
He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—
“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”
Fuck! 
Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—
Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.
“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”
All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—
Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.
And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 
“Can’t fucking believe you.”
When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”
“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”
Oh, fuck that. 
Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”
“Say it—”
“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”
Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.
…Motherfucker, what?
Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 
“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”
Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.
His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?
“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 
No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”
“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”
“So everything I heard was a lie?”
“Huh?”
“He told me!”
He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.
What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 
The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.
“You gonna say anything or what?” 
Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 
Even if it kills him.
“No, I, umm…” 
“No?” 
Just hurry up and fucking do it. 
Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 
His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”
What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.
In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 
“You sure?”
It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 
A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 
Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 
Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 
His ex? 
As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—
“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”
“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”
It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,
“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 
“Domestic?”
“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 
When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”
Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”
“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 
A sudden crack splits him through.
“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 
The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 
No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 
Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.
And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.
“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 
And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”
“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 
Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.
Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 
But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 
“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 
Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”
At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 
“I think she feels all alone.” 
This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 
“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”
Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  
You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—
“I’m heading out again.”
Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”
Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 
“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”
How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 
“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”
Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 
On the run.
“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 
“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”
Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”
At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”
And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…
Yoongi almost fucking confesses.
“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”
“You think so?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” 
The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 
Unprecedented.  
“You’re the best out of all of us.” 
Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.
And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 
After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”
Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”
“You still are.”
“Says you!”
“I still am, too!”
Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 
After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,
“Break up with her, Yoong.” 
Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 
“Yeah?” 
“It’s over now.” 
“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”
Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 
“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 
Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 
“You sure it’s over?”
“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 
“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 
“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 
Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 
Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 
For three. Fucking. Months. 
“I might.” 
“…K.” 
And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.
Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.
Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 
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Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.
But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.
And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 
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What time is it? 
All that greets him is darkness. 
Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 
Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 
He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 
Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 
Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 
He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 
And the darkness pulls him back under. 
Without even telling him the time. 
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Buzzing. 
Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 
Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 
Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 
Hustler: Missed Calls (6)
Dumbass: 1 Message
Hustler: 3 Messages 
Chim: 7 Messages   
Chim: Missed Calls (3) 
Holy fuck. 
With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 
“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 
“Mm.” 
“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 
“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 
Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 
“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 
Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 
There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 
“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”
Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 
“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”
Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 
Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.
But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.
So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 
“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 
Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 
Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.
But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 
Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.
“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 
“He told you?” 
“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 
“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 
“Ah.” 
Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 
“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 
“That it’s done.” 
A hum. 
“That’s very true.” 
There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 
When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.
“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 
“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 
A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 
“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 
What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”
Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
“Knowing the answer.” 
At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 
“You’ll know it when you see it.” 
“Annoying.”
“Love you, too!” 
Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 
Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 
“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 
He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 
“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 
“K. Same time tomorrow?” 
“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 
That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 
“Relax! You will like it.” 
“Chim, I swear—”
“You’ll thank me later bye!”
As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.
Exactly where he always ends up. 
Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 
But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 
Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 
Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  
Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 
He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 
That sounds like fucking bliss. 
Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful
Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 
And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 
All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 
Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you
Fucking hell.
Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 
Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…
All he wants to do is see you, too. 
You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 
After all this time. All these days and nights. 
You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  
It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 
But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 
He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 
How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 
Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 
Something that isn’t broken. 
Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 
What. No way. 
From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 
And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 
Hustler: Incoming Call 
But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.
And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 
“Are we… is this over?” 
Fuck.
“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 
Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 
“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”
“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 
“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”
“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 
Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 
“Are you? With me?” 
Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 
“No way in hell, doll.” 
Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 
“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 
That’s okay. 
Because he’s had a day, too. 
“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 
Please keep going. 
Please don’t leave him alone. 
“Talk to me.” 
Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 
You’re so good at that. 
“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 
Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.
“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  
The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 
“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 
If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 
The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 
“Fuck, really?” 
“Yeah.” 
You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 
“What did he say?” 
Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 
“Oh, thank fuck.” 
Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 
“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 
Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 
And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.
“Me, too, baby.” 
Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 
Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You will?”
He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 
“Just a little longer.”
He has to.
“Okay.”
Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 
“Thank you.”
What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 
“For putting up with me.”
Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 
At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.
“Really?”
Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”
“Boo.”
Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”
“A ha… Yeah.” 
“What are you still talking to me for?” 
“I miss you.” 
Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 
Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 
“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  
God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 
“Why?” 
Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 
“Fuck.” 
Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 
He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.
“I hate you.” 
Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 
“Ha ha.” 
You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 
“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 
Wait. Did you…
Did you just pout? 
Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 
“Wait, huh? Why!” 
“Nothing.” 
“I swear to god—” 
“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 
“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 
The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 
“Kitchen.” 
The hell? “How’d you know?” 
“You’re always in there.” 
Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 
“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 
“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 
“The world said let them cook.” 
Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 
But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 
“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 
After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 
“You better sleep, too.”
“I will.” 
With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 
Because of you. It’s always you. 
Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”
“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”
Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 
There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 
“Okay. Good night, baby.”
One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 
“Night, doll.”
When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 
Right towards the corner that stares back. 
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It’s been five days.
But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.
Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 
And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 
When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 
…So what in the fuck was that?
You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 
Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 
He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 
This is so hard. 
The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 
Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  
Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo
Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 
No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 
Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.
So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.
Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.
There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 
What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.
Tonight.  
This man.
I got the next one.
This wonderful, charming man. 
But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:
Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 
Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 
After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.
The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 
A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.
Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.
You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 
And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 
Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.
Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?
You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.
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Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 
Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.
Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call 
When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 
“Hey.” 
All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 
But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 
You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 
He simply huffs a quiet laugh.
“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 
Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 
Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 
“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 
“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”
The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 
“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 
It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 
“Do better.” 
Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 
“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 
“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 
“I’m starting to regret this.”
“Regret what?”
“Everything.”
Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”
“I am.”
The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 
“That’s a given, though.”
“Excuse you.”
Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 
“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 
Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”
There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—
“I think we’re out of condoms.” 
Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 
“Wait. Or are we?”
Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”
And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 
“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”
“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”
“Nah, you don’t have to.”
“Oh. Found some?”
“No.”
Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”
And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 
And you want that to be the case forever. 
“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 
“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 
“Damn!” 
As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 
“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 
There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—
“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 
You clutch the wheel.
“Cus I want that, too.”
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One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 
Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 
It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 
“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  
“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”
His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 
“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 
“You could’ve asked somebody.” 
Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 
And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.
But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 
“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 
“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 
“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”
Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 
And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 
Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 
“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 
And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”
“Uh huh.”
Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”
“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 
Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 
But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”
Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 
Your turn to blink.
“And I needed food.”
This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 
“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 
The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 
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“Eat.”
The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”
“Mm.”
“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 
“Just a bite then.” 
Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 
There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 
Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”
A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”
The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”
That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”
His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 
What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 
“Everything.” 
Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 
Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 
“It’s okay,” you whisper. 
After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 
You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 
“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 
You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 
“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 
There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 
“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.
And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 
“…Yeah.” 
Fuck. “About what?” 
“That you’d hate me.” 
Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 
“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 
Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 
“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 
He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 
He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 
“You do?” 
Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 
“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 
Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 
“Hmm?” 
He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 
“Always, doll.” 
And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 
If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 
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The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 
But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 
Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 
“Where we’re going.”
Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”
When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”
“Then why—”
He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 
But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.
“You comin’?”
Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 
Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”
And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 
“Yoongi!”
Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 
Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.
And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”
Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”
You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 
So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”
Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 
How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 
After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 
What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”
Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”
“So I shouldn’t bust in?”
Huh. “What?”
“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”
“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”
He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 
Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”
“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”
The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 
What is it with him and keys? 
When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 
“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”
You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 
How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.
When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!
A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”
With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 
“So fucking long.”
You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.
But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 
Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.
“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.
Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.
Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 
When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,
“You’re so cute.”
“How,” you ask just as softly.
And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”
Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.
But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 
“Eat.”
“Huh?”
“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.
When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.
Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.
If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 
Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.
And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.
The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.
“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 
And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.
…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 
No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 
And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 
Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 
But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 
Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 
Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.
And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”
You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 
“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”
“Thanks.” 
You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,
“You’re perfect, you know that?” 
Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 
“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”
Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 
“Good. You bored?”  
“Huh?”
Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”
“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 
You could do this for eternity, too.
“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”
This man. 
“Forever might be a stretch.” 
“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 
“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 
So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 
Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 
“It was kinda hot.” 
His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 
Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 
And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 
But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 
When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 
“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 
The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 
“And why is that?”
“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 
And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”
Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”
“Okay.”
But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”
“What.”
His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”
You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”
“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”
Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 
“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 
“Uh huh.”
“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 
Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”
“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”
“It’s mine, I just ran out—”
“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 
And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 
Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 
“Uh huh.” 
You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 
Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 
Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  
You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 
Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 
“Careful, doll.”
“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 
More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 
Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”
“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 
Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 
Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 
“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 
“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 
“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 
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For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 
At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 
But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 
Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 
Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.
Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.
But team jerseys? 
Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 
When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 
As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 
Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 
Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.
Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 
They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 
Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 
“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 
Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 
You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 
Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 
Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 
“Me?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Why me?” 
Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 
“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?
Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”
“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 
Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 
Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 
“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 
Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 
When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 
You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.
A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 
And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 
Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 
“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  
“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”
The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 
Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 
You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 
All you can do is stare back. 
And without even realizing. 
You’re already rubbing your arm.
-
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tbc. :((
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a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!
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a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ 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  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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minsugadoll · 4 months
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I don’t think there ever will be a day where I don’t miss Bloomsuga. Like, I’ll be in my 60’s wishing I had a photographic memory so that I could relive what I felt when I read her fics. 😔✊🏻
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When they try to make school harder for LGBTQ+ youth...we make it better.
Over the past 2 years, students across the U.S. have used our 50 States 50 Grants funds to...
Build gender-affirming closets and gender-neutral bathrooms at school
Host their school's first Pride fest or Pride conference
Educate parents and teachers
Fund their GSA club
And so many other rad projects to support their queer students!
Apps are open for Season 3 now through April 1, 2024 - if you have an idea for how you'd use up to $10,000 at your own school (or if you know someone in middle or high school who could), reblog and spread the word!
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douglass-fir · 1 year
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Seokjin the traveling salesman, who sells jars of synthetic stars, meets Jungkook the boy, who carries real ones in his eyes.
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A tiny post-apocalyptic AU.
Seokjin’s never seen real stars, you see…only heard about them in stories. As a child, he’d spend hours digging through old books, ones left in piles within dusty abandoned libraries. On a good day, he’d find one—a picture of a night sky, and his reaction was always the same. Awe. Wonder. Longing. And for a moment, a bit of healing knowing there was something bigger than himself out there.
So it became his life’s work: mixing chemicals and metals to mimic the night sky. And when he perfected it, Seokjin bottled it in jars and set out in his caravan, visiting cities and selling his magic in a bottle.
It was rewarding for Seokjin, to see the delight of his customers as they walked away with twinkling lights in-hand. Some smiling for the first time in months, maybe years. Seokjin, though, had grown immune to the “wonder” of his faux galaxies. The awe and longing far behind him. But it was a rewarding way to make a living—selling stars, and a steady one to boot. That is, until he reached Han City. “We won’t need your wares here,” an old man hollered at him as he parked somewhere safe. “I’m sorry, what?” “Stars. We don’t need ‘em here.”
Seokjin was accustomed to the occasional heckler, so he waves his hand, dismissing as he yells, “You don’t have to buy them, sir. No one is forcing you…” “No, son. You don’t understand. We don’t need stars. We already have ‘em.”
The old man approaches and points toward a worn billboard in the distance, barely visible through the fog.
View the Stars. 100 won for 5 minutes. Back of the Old Theater
Seokjin is skeptical, prepared for disappointment as he pulls his caravan toward the theater, a dark building marred by crumbling paint. It’s late, but a faint light is seen through the windows. Seokjin makes his way inside the quiet theater and follows the hand-painted signs to a dark room with a small box on the door. Seokjin drops in 100 won, and the door creaks, popping open. He wonders if this is a trap. The room is tiny, confessional-like. Just a single chair with a dim light, facing a red velvet curtain, drawn closed. Seokjin holds his breath and sits down, whipping his head backward as he hears the door click shut behind him. Seokjin gasps as he hears the soft shuffling of the curtain beginning to draw back. What will it be? A painting? Some optical illusion? A forgery? A trap? A boy. It’s a boy. Sitting on a chair like his own, the boy pulls his hood back and smiles, dimples peeking before letting his face relax. And Seokjin sees stars. Real stars. Galaxies and light. Endless oceans that feel like terror, and tiny spaces that feel like home. Awe. Wonder. Longing. “You’ve seen me before, haven’t you,” the boy says. He has. Of course he has. In every story from his grandmother. In every dusty book he’s cherished...Seokjin saw this boy’s eyes. “I have,” Seokjin says, mouth dry. “It’s good to see you again,” the stars reply. ☆ ☆ ☆
twitter | ao3
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Lacuna | Pt. 3
An unfilled space; a gap.
Min Yoongi x reader
Genre/Tropes : established relationship, miscommunication, angst, yelling
Word count : ~2.2k
A/N : Hello sweet readers! Finally the third part!! Enjoy it please<3  Not much left before these two go heart to heart ^^ Are you excited to see how this plays out?
<
Next morning Yoongi is once again met with a displeasing view. You silently rushing around the room collecting your clothes and toiletries. His breath quickens and he shoots up in bed clutching the comforter as if he has woken from a nightmare.
His eyes move around following your form and only as you turn to leave you notice him. His eyebrows furrowed a sleepy and confused expression on his face. You take it as a hint to leave the room and quickly scramble out without a word.
Yoongi holds his breath the moment your eyes meet. He couldn’t read the expression adorning your face and it scared him. He once again ran hands down his face taking in a deep breath. His heart still hammering inside. Yoongi was even more scared now then he was yesterday evening. The later realization coming back to hold him by the neck. When a thought shoots in his head. He still needs to apologize to you.
He quickly throws on sweats and moves out of the room. He can hear the shower running in the guest room and stays behind the door, scared to invade your personal space now and tick you off.
On the other side of the door you were getting dressed with those same thoughts. Scared to tick Yoongi off you try to make yourself scarce as fast as possible. The stare you’ve been met with this morning almost put you in cardiac arrest as you heart stopped.
You exit the shower and start pulling on your work clothes. Suddenly a knock on the door stops your heart once again. “Y/N?” A small voice catches your attention.
You haven’t heard your name leave his lips for so long. You stop for a moment frozen in space but quickly recover as your phone lights up with notifications. You need to hurry or you’ll be late for the new presentation.
Yoongi can hear you shuffling inside the room. Excitement fills his insides when he hears your footsteps coming closer to the door. He braces himself to face you, hug you, kiss you and fall to his knees before you to apologize. The door opens and Yoongi barely catches sight of you before you scurry down the stairs. A thought enters Yoongi’s head. You’re running away from him…
He comes after you hot on your trail. When he stands on the bottom of the staircase he can’t do anything but observe you putting on your shoes and taking you bag in your hands. That’s when it clicks for him. You’re leaving. 
He nears you in three big strides and catches your arm before you can disappear out the door. “We need to talk” he says assertively. You only look at him with big eyes and stutter out a “I’m late for work” before removing yourself from his grasp.
Yoongi stands there frozen in place. Everything seems to drop into place for him now. The detachment in your eyes, the space between you two now miles. This relationship is hanging by a thread...
You were full of adrenaline as you reached work, not only from running but from the weird morning encounter with Yoongi. You quickly pushed Yoongi out of your mind and walked through the office door. After setting your bag on your chair you grabbed your computer and set off to the meeting room.
After three hours you finally slumped down in your chair a smile adorning your face. A tear of happiness escaped your eye and you wiped it laughing. You got it. You got your position.
You could not contain yourself as you started typing out a message to Yoongi. Your finger stopped right above the send button. The whole world stilled as you deleted the message not wanting to annoy your lover any further. The thought once again made you sad… he didn’t feel like a lover any more…
“Congrats Y/N you were amazing!” Your colleague Hyun clapped you on the back. You turned to him “Oh!” You were startled but recovered “thank you, thank you” you smiled once again. “Great even amazing job on the presentation. Finally, you put that Lee in her place. Please fire her I’m getting tired of listening to her..” he rolled his eyes jokingly and lounged on your desk beside you.
Hyun kept up small talk asking you about the document, your days and finally reaching a topic of a new café down town with famous Japanese buns that you’ve been craving to try.
“That place is bomb! I was there a few times while in Japan they have the most delicious buns I have ever tried” Hyun almost melted on your desk holding his tummy “It’s all I want in life” he closed his eyes theatrically. You laugh boomed through the office at his actions and you held yourself back after receiving some judging glances. “I’m convinced alright stop making a scene someone might kill us” you giggled.
Hyun got serious, straightened up and looked into your eyes “Come with me”. Your giggle stopped in your throat “W-what?” “Come with me to the opening. We can go on Saturday it’s our free day thanks to you” he smiled. “C’mon Y/N we do need to celebrate you somehow” his eyes were full of affection.
Your head was spinning. Hyun has been your good friend for a couple of years in the company. But that’s it, there was never anything more than that. You had never taken your friendship out of the confines of this office and now you were feeling like maybe you wanted it. It was nice having him here at this moment, having someone congratulate you, take interest in you day and laugh together.
You gulped as Hyun got up from your desk a hand on your shoulder “I’ll get back to you” he smiled and walked away. Your eyes followed him and your heart lit up with a possibility of a new friendship.
While you were congratulating with Hyun, Yoongi was having a fight on his own.
Repairing his music was going as NOT smooth as possible. Despite the fact that he had no music, he also had producer Cho on his ass. Cho has not left him alone for the whole day.
Yoongi could deal with Cho being in the studio but he could no longer deal with his shouting and constant nagging, tough Yoongi could not say a thing back.
Apart from Cho, you were also on his mind. The morning encounter, the evening fight all of it pressing him from within. Yoongi wanted to cry. He wanted to cry his whole body out and curl up in your loving arms so you could nurse him to health again. He wanted everything to be alright. But most of all he wanted YOU. He wanted YOU to be alright. The thought made Yoongi tear up and drop his head into his hands for the hundredth time that day.
“Hyung it’s time for practice” Jungkooks voice filled the studio and immediately irritated Yoongi. He let out a groan “yeh I know.” Jungkook slipped into the room leaving the door ajar and and looked around awkwardly “Hyung are you alright?” He laid a comforting hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and Yoongi shot up out of the chair making Jungkook jump back and land awkwardly on the carpet before the couch. “DOES IT LOOK LIKE IM ALRIGHT?! IF YOU DON’T ALREADY SEE NO NOTHING IS ALRIGHT YOU- YOU-UH?!” Yoongi towered over the younger male body shaking with anger. It didn’t take long before all of the members filtered through the door to see what was happening. Namjoon and Jin quickly evaluated the situation and jumped in front of Yoongi making him sit at his chair while Taehyung and Jimin helped a tearful Jungkook up. “What the hell is going on here?! Jungkook are you okey?”the leader tried to bring peace back.
Yoongi glanced around the room eyes meeting Jungkooks. Eyes filled with tears looking up at him, a sight so sad it reminded him of a worse one... 
Yoongi was taken over by his emotions once more, he could feel something brewing inside him and he had no idea how he was going to deal with it without you. “Yoongi? Tell us what’s wrong? You’ve been distant for a long time now? Is it Y/N??” Jin’s voice uttering your name was like the final straw in Yoongi’s emotions and he let it all flow.
With his tears flowing down his cheeks all the hardships flowed out too. All six members sitting around now listening to their brother cry out his concerns about his relationship and work. 
“And I’m so sorry Jungkook that you happened to probe me at the worst moment. I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you…” Now Yoongi felt embarrassed not only about this Jungkook situation but also about opening to his members up about his emotions and struggles with your relationship.
“Hyung it sounds like the two of you just …grew apart…” Said Hobi and Yoongi’s head shot up to his brother eyes full of fear. “No no no not that way, maybe not grew apart but simply spent too little time together and have simply misunderstood one another’s feelings now. And to be honest time has not been kind to the two of you” Jimin tried to help his friend who looked like he was having a heart attack. 
“Jiminie is right, when was the last time you talked with Y/N?” Yoongi fell into deep thought and the members looked at him hoping for an answer. The longer they waited the more scared for their friend they got. Yoongis face went from thinking to breaking in a few seconds and tears once again flowed.
A soft chorus of “Hyung” and “Yoongi” was let out by the boys as they stood from the couch and gathered around Yoongi to hug him and wipe his tears. “Yoongi look at me. Stop crying and go. Find some flowers a nice drink and something delicious then go get your woman and tell her that you love her.” Jin looked sternly into the younger man’s eyes. 
Yoongi blinked a few times and nodded his head but then a revelation from yesterday popped back into his mind and he lowered his eyes to the floor again. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore...” he whispered the paralyzing words for the first time and it hit him more than he thought it would. The air got knocked out of Yoongi and the others noticed. “Yah! Stop it hyung!” “Yah go get Y/N! You know she loves you just don’t give up”
It felt like a breath of new air being supported by his brothers and it gave him new bravery to text you.
Yoongi: Hey...
Yoongi: When do you finish work?
Your eyes shot away from the computer and back at your phone when you read the senders name. You gulped and could feel cold sweat coating your body. The text was exactly what you had been expecting for a while. This is it. “Maybe it’s something else, c’mon respond” you thought trying to stop yourself from going into shock.
Y/N: Hi
Y/N: I finish work at 9
Y/N: Why?
Your heart beat fast and out of rhythm as you waited for a response praying for a better one than you have imagined.
Yoongi: I’ll pick you up.
You sat now thoroughly confused by the message. Why would he want to pick you up? Was he at home now? He wouldn’t just break up with you now would he?
If this situation had occurred weeks ago you would have jumped up and down at the thought of your boyfriend being spontaneous, however now it only served to make you nervous. You couldn’t imagine being at such a close proximity with him.
“Y/N did you get my message?” Junhi stood at your door and you awoke from the nightmare that was going on inside your head thanks to your boyfriend. “Ah message? Oh yes yes I got it sorry” you buffered looking at your computer screen trying to find a message. 
“Interesting” Junhi chuckles. “Huh..?” You turn to him dishevelled. “I didn’t send you any messages. Are your messages haunted sweets?” Junhi came inside your cubicle and sat on your desk. “Don’t call me that it sounds like we’re dating or something..” you lowered your gaze in disgust. 
“That doesn’t sound that bad huh? I could be your work boyfriend? We’d make an office power couple. At least you’d have someone to attend the party with on Friday” he flashed a smile searching your eyes for contact. He locked his eyes on yours finally and you let out a weak chuckle ‘this idiot again…’ . “Is there anything you need help with Junhi?” you asked looking through your documents, only one man on your mind, heartbeat elevated.
Please don’t let this be our end…
>
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Tags :  @gold--gucciempress @justanotherstarlightmonger @theladyblue @mickmoon @janeelizabeth1216 @wobblewobble822 @welcometomyworld13
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bbangpanmen · 2 years
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1 new message | thirteen
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pairing: idol!jimin x yn
genre: idol!verse | romance | social media au
you treat bts’ dms as a personal venting medium because you know they will never read your messages... until one day they do.
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au masterlist
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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 1 year
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The End of the Pier
Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Fluff [Drabble]
Word Count: 718
Concept: You and Namjoon are dating and he’s brought you to his favourite spot for a picnic slash double date with your friend and JK
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"I'm trying to find it…wait…" Namjoon flips another page, scanning the words carefully in search of the passage he wants to share with you. "I swear it was in this chapter…" he murmurs, almost to himself but he absent-mindedly rubs your knee to ensure you're still with him and haven't returned to your own book. You smile fondly at his concentration face and shade your face from the sun with the hand that isn't holding his. Your book lies open by your side awaiting your return to its pages.
"Aha! Found it!" he exclaims triumphantly. "This made me think of you…" He draws you closer to him and you nestle in to listen to him read the words, his voice and eyes both softening as he speaks. You close your own eyes, drinking in the sounds of water lapping below, birdsong and the occasional playful shouts of children and romping dogs mingling with your boyfriend's voice.
That is until you hear a muffled yelp and a stifled giggle from further up the pier, back towards the shore and half sit back up with an exasperated sigh, shading your eyes again to peer towards the disturbance. Namjoon's gaze automatically follows yours.
"Isn't she meant to be helping him with his English?" he answers your unspoken objection. "Maybe the book they chose is more entertaining than we gave them credit for."
"I don't mean to cast aspersions…" you begin. He raises his eyebrows with a tiny smile, knowing where you're headed with this. "But you will…" he finishes for you. You laugh and settle back against him. 
"Maybe you're right and it's all completely innocent," you allow, gesturing to him to finish reading. He entwines his fingers with yours and picks up where he left off. You can feel the warmth of the sun on your face and the warmth of his body against your side and the combination is making you deliciously sleepy. 
His hand moves up to stroke your hair and when you crack your eyes open you see him smiling down at you lovingly.
This time it's Namjoon who turns his head at the brief squeal.
"Okay so I'm beginning to wonder as well now," he concedes. You both squint back over towards your co-picnickers warily. 
"Well…why are they lying down for one thing?" you point out. Namjoon shares a suspicious look with you as you both get to your feet. 
Stealthily making your way back down the pier, you exchange another look as you notice the book Ruby was trying to use to teach Jeongguk discarded in the middle of the pier. But the two lovebirds are indeed lying full length along the side of the wooden walkway. Or at least Jeongguk seems to be; his head resting on the raised strut and his hair messily spilling over the side of the beam. As you and Namjoon edge closer he exhales a soft groan and shifts his position, raising his head to look down towards his crotch and propping himself up on one elbow where you try not to notice your friend's head poorly disguised under the picnic blanket she insisted on bringing down to the water. 
"Jesus, they're like cats in heat!" Namjoon snorts. "Surely he can concentrate for more than ten minutes?"
"Apparently not," you opine through gritted teeth. "Hose?" you suggest.
He nods, giving you a wicked little smirk as his free hand twists the nozzle of a nearby safety hose.
"Uh…jebal…oh, noona~" Jeongguk moans, still trying and failing to keep his voice down. You're not sure what "jebal" means but you get the rest and context implies some kind of begging or appreciation so you and Namjoon silently calculate the maximum damage bullseye and set yourselves up. Jeongguk's eyes are tightly shut, so Namjoon manages to unwind the hose carefully until you can abruptly douse the cavorting couple in freezing water, making them both leap up cursing and spluttering in protest. 
"I said it was a lovely day for reading you little animals. Not for geographically-inappropriate blowjobs!" you tease them, rolling your eyes.
Still shaking water droplets from their hair and clothes, Jeongguk and Ruby trudge back to the car for a change of clothes as you and Namjoon return to your cozy little lovenest at the end of the pier.
THE END
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cardoorman · 7 months
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This has been resolved so I'm erasing the original. Thank you 💜
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 years
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𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐖 : 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 ; 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 ; 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 ; 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐕'𝐬 ; 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐬/𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲 ; 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 ; 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 𝟔.𝟓𝐤
𝐀/𝐍 𝟏 : 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨/𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐀/𝐍 𝟐 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰-𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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“You really can’t make it?” You whispered, your eyes constantly glancing to the bottom of the bedroom door to make sure two tiny feet wouldn’t show up to listen in. It was tough to keep your voice down, especially considering how upset you were becoming with your husband's constant last minute cancellations of plans that had been in effect for months. “We talked about this… you promised him that you’d be able to make it too.” You hissed as you pointed to the door, once again making sure your son hadn’t overheard the silent argument. 
Namjoon ran a hand through his hair as he moved further into the room, dropping down onto the edge of the bed. “You really think I find enjoyment in letting you down, in letting him down?” He huffed, falling back onto the bed with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut to try to block out the agitation he was feeling. 
“Kind of seems like that.” You retorted, your jaw clenched with your own agitation at just another family trip that would be soiled by Namjoons cancellation. “I might as well just be a single mother at this point with how much you’re gone… You said that things would be slowing down, that you’d be able to make it this time around.” You scoffed, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes, not specifically at him, but at the circumstances in general. “It’s ridiculous.” 
He groaned loudly, letting both of his hands fall over his face, dragging them down as a loud sigh escaped his lips. “You make it seem like I do this shit on purpose. Not just seem though, it’s like you actually believe that I’m this much of an asshole.” He pushed himself up, his back ramrod straight as he stared at you. “Do you actually believe that?” 
Pursing your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, exasperated at everything at this point. “I don’t know, Namjoon. All I do know is that this trip has been planned weeks and weeks in advance, it’s on the calendar, our son… your son was so excited to finally take a family vacation with you and you just… You drop this on me the night before we have to go. God I…” You took a deep breath, wanting to pull your hair out, wanting to scream, but not wanting to upset your son in the process. “I hate you sometimes…” Slowly exhaling, your tongue in your cheek as you looked between him and the door, you let out an exhausted chuckle. “We’re leaving early, I’m sleeping in his room tonight. Don’t bother trying to wake up in time to catch us, I’d rather him not be upset on the way out.” You said, trying your best to stay calm and collected, swallowing back the anger that threatened to swallow you entirely. 
“You know, I told you… I told you that things would get difficult, that my life was hectic and I wouldn’t always have time.” His defense was strong, or so he thought, but his rebuttal only had you more disgusted, cursing yourself for even marrying him at this point. “You said that you’d support me, that you’d stand by me no matter what. You weren’t so upset to get hitched when I was raking in the cash, were you?” His assumption and low blow had you whipping around, your finger pointed at him on the bed as tears of anger built in the corners of your eyes, your entire body trembling with rage. 
“Don’t… Don’t you dare try to throw all this shit back up in my face like it’s my fault!” You shouted, completely forgetting about your son who was in the other room. “I did stand by you, I supported you every fucking chance that I got! I gave up my entire life for you! I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t go anywhere. Any semblance of normalcy that I once had, it was gone, but I dealt with it for you!” You seethed at him, your fingers gripping the edges of your shirt, worried that if you didn’t have something to keep yourself grounded you’d end up doing something that you’d regret. “For the past eight years… Eight fucking years, Namjoon, I wasn’t me, I was just some fucking extension of you, and I dealt with it, because I thought that… hey, maybe it’ll all get better as soon as his career starts dwindling down. But no! For some fucking reason it just keeps getting worse.” You took a shaky breath, your nose sniffling as you looked at your husband through glossy eyes. “And now… Now our son who just wanted to have some time with his family, which he for some reason thinks still includes you, now he’s going to be let down… Again. I’m tired of letting him down… But you wouldn’t understand that because you never have to be the one to tell him that you can’t make it. It’s never you.” Your head fell back as you let out a heavy sigh, running your hands over your face, gasping quietly in disbelief at everything that was going on right now. “Do you even know him?” You questioned him, watching as his eyes narrowed at you quizzically. 
“What do you mean? Of course I know my son, what kind of stupid question is that?” He scoffed at your question, shaking his head as he looked at you. 
“What’s he like? What’s his favorite color? What bedtime story does he like, what’s his favorite food, what’s his favorite movie, show, song, toy? What do you know about him?!” Namjoon shook his head once more, clearly finding your sudden questionnaire ridiculous and foolish, but it only further proved your point. “You walk around like you’re father of the year to a kid that you don’t even know.” 
He threw his hands up, his annoyance spilling over in the tone of his voice. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?! I’m sorry I’m busy, I’m sorry that I have a job to do! I mean… How the hell am I even supposed to know what he likes?! He’s six years old and he hasn’t spoken a word! How is that my fault?!” 
You were at a loss for words, seeing red as you looked at the man on the bed, the man that you felt like you didn’t even know anymore. He didn’t know the half of what you’ve dealt with the past four years, the absolute hell that you were put through trying to raise your son on your own. “I never said it was your fault!” You screamed, your chest rising and falling heavily as your teeth gritted together. “You didn’t even take the time to try to get to know him, you’re embarrassed by him! That’s why you feel no shame in doing what you’re doing, what you always do!” You pulled the rings off your finger, throwing them across the room, the action exhilarating and almost liberating in a way. “It’s always about you! It always has been and always will be! God forbid the fucking world knows that Kim Namjoon has a child with autism!” 
His glare was deadly as he looked between you and where the rings had landed on the floor, his own fingers yanking off the ring that you had placed there on the day of your wedding. “That’s really what you think?! That I don’t love my son?! You’re ridiculous, Y/N! You’re putting words in my mouth!” 
“I’ve known how you felt for a while… I saw the way you’d look at him when you’d come home, you wouldn’t even acknowledge him once he got the diagnosis. You won’t even let the guys around him… You haven’t even told your parents what’s going on, you’re ashamed!” You had been pacing the room, stopping once more at the door, your hand on the knob. “He didn’t ask for this either… He fought from the day he was born… And to have his own father turn his back on him… I couldn’t imagine the way that makes him feel. You know… Just because he can’t say it, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it… I just want you to remember that.” There was nothing left for you to say, and the silence that followed after you had finished showed that he had nothing to say either. It was done, and the entire argument had left you exhausted, both physically and mentally and all you wanted to do was lay in bed next to your son and hold him, to let him know that not everyone had given up on him, that you’d always be there. 
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Your son grunted loudly as he pulled against your hand, trying to lead you into the bedroom where Namjoon was sleeping. “Honey… He’s not coming… He can’t… I’m sorry.” You whispered, pausing in the middle of the hallway to lower yourself to his level, brushing your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him as he stomped his feet on the ground. “I know… I know… Shhh, honey, it’s okay…” You kissed his forehead before lifting him up, trying to hide the tears that were building on your lashes. “We’re gonna go on a plane… You like planes.” You murmured, trying to keep your tone steady as you wheeled your luggage through the hallway, not wanting your son to hear just how much you were struggling. “And we’re gonna go see Mickey Mouse, you love Mickey Mouse.” 
He grunted again, this time a sound of approval at the mention of Mickey Mouse, clapping his hands together. His happiness was the source of your own and you sighed softly when his feet had finally stopped kicking against you, his head resting against your shoulder instead. “Wait… Y/N wait…” Namjoons voice called from behind you, his hair disheveled and his clothes a wrinkly mess as he stumbled out of the bedroom. The sound of his voice had your son turning, kicking his feet again as he reached out for his father. “Let me help…” 
You couldn’t show how annoyed you were, not in front of your son, and you would never go against your son's wishes, so you swallowed back your reluctance and handed him over to Namjoon. “I told you… That you shouldn’t come out when we’re leaving… He’ll only be more upset.” You tried to keep your voice light, a smile on your face as you said it, but the smile was anything but genuine, your teeth clenched so hard that you felt a cramp starting up in your jaw. “If you’d like, you can help carry the bags to the car. I’ll carry him down.” You tried to sound cheerful, as if your marriage hadn’t practically ended last night, but the task was becoming harder and harder with each passing second. 
“I love you, Namgil…” Namjoon murmured to your son, petting his own hand over your son’s hair, the tiniest trickle of a tear moving down his face as he said it. “You’re gonna have a fun time at Disney World… right? You’ll see Mickey?” Your son cheered excitedly once more at Mickey Mouse’s name, his hands clapping together on Namjoons cheeks before holding them firm, grunting quietly in frustration as his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s he doing?” Namjoon questioned, his eyes glancing over at you as you watched your son. 
“He’s trying to tell you he loves you…” You said matter-of-factly, your son finally relaxing once you had let Namjoon know. “I can’t miss the flight, I booked this time specifically for him.” You added, reaching out to grab your son from Namjoon. “I have to get him on the plane before anyone else, I have to make sure he doesn’t have to use the bathroom, I have to get him in his seat and get his headphones on and make sure his movie starts up and that he’s comfortable so he doesn’t have a meltdown… People don’t take too lightly to that, so I have to go.” 
Namjoon shook his head, but carefully handed your son over to you, kissing the top of his head as he did. “Why do you use commercial? You could have used the private plane, it would be way more comfortable for you and him. You wouldn’t have to worry about people complaining either… Not that they understand…” You eyed him incredulously, baffled at the nerve he had to say it that way. “I don’t understand either… Not as much as you do… But I’m trying to help here, for christ's sake, Y/N… Let me help.” 
Nobody was yelling, and while you normally wouldn’t have noticed the slight raise in volume of Namjoons voice, now you could, and so could your son who was covering his ears and kicking at your sides. “Shhh… Shhh, it’s alright, honey… We’re quiet… It’s okay, we’re being quiet.” You cooed to him, rubbing circles in his back as you glared up at Namjoon. “Could you please… Just bring the bags to the car so I can get him buckled in?” 
He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he grabbed the handles to yours and Namgils bags and carried them down the stairs and out the front door. You followed behind, still trying to soothe your son with back rubs and hair pats, his fingers gripping onto your shirt as you got him outside, practically running to your car once you were out of the house. “Let me help you buckle him in, just start up the car, I’ve got it.” Namjoon said, holding his arms out for your son, and you didn’t really feel like you had much time to spare, passing him over to Namjoon and running around to the front of the car to start the engine. 
“I’m… okay…” Your son said, the sound of his voice causing you to whip around in your seat. He was holding his plush Koya out to Namjoon who seemed frozen, as still as a statue as he looked down at him. “I’m… okay….” He repeated, thrusting the stuffed animal into Namjoons hands with a wide smile. It wasn’t the first time you had actually heard him speak, but it was the first time he had used words with Namjoon, something that clearly had your husband shocked. 
“Isn’t… This is your car Koya… Don’t you need him, buddy?” Namjoon asked, looking down at the plushy that was now in his hands, the tears coming more steadily now as his fingers dug into the blue koala. “You don’t need to give him to me… I’m okay too.” He tried to reassure his son, but Namgil only shook his head, kicking his feet against the seat in front of him in agitation. 
“No!” He shouted, kicking his feet harder as his little hands balled up into fists. “I’m… okay! I can… talk! I’m… okay!” The words hit you like a brick, your nails digging into your legs as you bit the insides of your cheeks, anger at yourself for the argument the night before getting so out of hand that your son obviously heard it, and anger at Namjoon for having said what he did, the words clearly sticking with your son. 
All you could do was shake your head, staring at Namjoon who looked like he had just been punched, and at that moment, you felt that it would have been better if he had been. “Please, shut the door… We need to get to the airport.” You whispered, trying your best not to show your son how upset you truly were. “When I get back home… I’m done… I just want you to know that so you’re not expecting anything… I’m not that kind of person.” You said, watching as Namjoon robotically shut your son's door without another word, backing away from the car so you could pull out of the driveway. 
There was a sense of finality in the actions that had your eyes welling up, struggling to keep them clear so you could drive. What had happened the night before, what had happened so many times… It had all led up to this moment. 
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Namjoon sat on the edge of the bed, Koya held tightly in his arms as he tried to think of what to do, what he could do, as if there was something that could possibly make any of this better. As much as he wanted to believe there was something that would fix things, something that would make you come back to him, but he knows now that he’s done too much, he went too far, and not only did he hurt you, but he had hurt his son as well. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to live with himself knowing what he had done, seeing the pain that he had caused in yours and his son's eyes. 
The tears had come immediately after he had stepped over the threshold into the house again and they hadn’t stopped since, the light blue fabric that was Koya had since turned a darker shade from the tears that had puddled on top of the plushies head. The rain came soon after, pouring from the sky much like his tears poured from his eyes, beating against the windows of the bedroom that felt far too large now. He could barely even see through the glass, the trees out in the front yard had disappeared behind the raindrops that covered his window and the sudden sense of panic and fear and dread that overwhelmed him when he thought of you driving in these conditions couldn’t be pushed back. 
He spent the better half of the next 30 minutes straightening up the already practically spotless master bedroom, continually glancing out the window just to catch the dismal gray sky alight with the bolts of lightning that struck close by, followed by the house shaking thunder. The airport couldn’t possibly allow any of the flights to take off in this kind of weather, and while he wasn’t too fond of the idea of you and your son stuck in a crowded airport, he’d rather the two of you stay there than take your chances on the roads. 
As he continued cleaning the room, a glint of light came from the foot of the bed, catching his eye immediately, causing him to drop down on his knees to pick it up. The rings that you had thrown in a fit of angry passion were still on the floor which meant that they weren’t on your fingers, the one place where he thought they’d stay for the rest of the forever that he wanted to spend with you. “I’m sorry…” He whispered, as if his apology would be heard by you, and as much as he wished it would be, he knew that the only audience he had were the 4 walls of the bedroom that he had encased himself within. 
Another roaring roll of thunder seemed to have the entire foundation of the house vibrating beneath him, that vibration only continuing as his phone rang out on the nightstand beside the bed. In a hurry, he crawled across the floor that he had been sitting on, snatching his phone to answer the call before even checking the ID. “Hey, we’re canceling the meeting today, there’s no way we’re all making it to the office.” Jungkook said through the speaker, and all Namjoon could muster was a hum of agreement in response. “Bang isn’t really sure when we’ll be able to reschedule it for, so uh… Enjoy some time with Y/N and Namgil… Tell them I said hi too.” 
The rings that he held in his hand felt like freshly heated silver, as if the bands were still blazing red in his palm, but he knew that it was just the heat of his own anger boiling over inside of him. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at everything and everyone in the world that seemed to work so hard against him. It was like the universe wanted things to work out this way, but he wouldn’t allow it to be like that, he wouldn’t allow the universe to get its way, not this time, not when it came down to you and him, not when it came down to his family. 
Pushing himself up off the floor, he ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs, grabbing his keys off the keyring hook beside the door before flipping on the news. There was no reason to try to make it to the airport, to make it to you, if traffic were backed up. He would get there once the rain started to clear up, but he couldn’t risk himself and the lives of other people on the road for the sake of some romantic movie like reunion at the airport. 
“The traffic isn’t looking very good if you’re heading in the direction of Incheon airport. A seven car accident has left road workers and emergency workers turning everyone around to head back home. We have no reports as of now on the status of the drivers and or passengers in these seven vehicles, although we’re hoping that they all make it out alright.” The news anchor spoke as a live view of the accident was being shown on the screen, the helicopter flying right above the sight of it and the vehicles that had been involved in the accident were almost unrecognizable. “We’ll keep you updated on the status of the crash and the people that were involved as this story develops.” 
The sudden sinking feeling in Namjoons chest almost had him crumbling to the floor, and while he hadn’t been able to see the vehicles, something in him was just screaming, telling him that you and his son had been in that wreck, the thought of it sending him running to the sink in the kitchen, the urge to throw up overcoming him completely. 
His legs felt like noodles, his knees weak and the constant heavy breathing had him feeling like he was going to throw up again. He didn’t know what he’d do if you and Namgil were in that crash, he didn’t even want to think about it, but as the light of the television flickered and the droning sound of the reporter filled the empty space around him, he knew that he needed to face the fact that it could be a possibility. “Breaking news now, the first car that has been pulled from the wreckage was a black 2022 Hyundai Palisade with a woman and a young boy inside. We can’t release any information on who these people are yet, but if this description sounds familiar to anyone that you know, please call in to the number at the bottom on your screen.” 
Sinking, that’s what it felt like as soon as he heard it. It was like a lightswitch had been flicked on, but he didn’t want to see the contents of the room, he wanted to shut it all out, he wanted to slam the door and pretend he hadn’t seen it at all. He knew what he had to do though, and his hand, as if on its own, reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone to dial the number, praying that it was a coincidence, praying that you and your son weren’t the ones in that car. 
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Guilt was the damndest thing, the way it could eat away at a person, the reasons for feeling it sometimes strange and morbid in their own way. It wasn’t exactly survivor's guilt, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d rather be dead than standing over the tiny hospital bed where his son lay connected to breathing tubes and IV’s in the ICU. 
You were in the next room over, and he had to take turns walking between each room, unsure of how he was even able to manage that much. Every step he took felt like he was carrying the weight of a million pounds on his shoulders, his own breathing unsteady as he took in the image of the two people he loved most in the world, looking like they were on the verge of leaving him. 
The Koya was still gripped in his arms as he walked between the rooms, the rings that you had thrown were being worn on his pinky finger, like they were the last two things connecting him to you and Namgil. “Sir, maybe you’d like to go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat or drink.” One of the nurses said as she came into the room to check you over, writing something out on her clipboard as she did. He wished that he could see it, he wished that he could see what was written, but he feared that whatever it was was something that would only make the pain he felt worse. 
“They were going to Disney World…” He muttered in a raspy voice, a voice that he barely had from all the crying he had done. “I was… I was supposed to go with them… But I couldn’t…” His voice broke at the end as he clutched tighter onto the plush koala in his hands. “My son… He loves Mickey Mouse… And he loves planes. His favorite food is… is pizza… cheese pizza… And he loves apple juice. His favorite movie is… Toy Story…. And his favorite toy is… Bullseye… From the movie… That’s my boy….” The nurse nodded in understanding, although he was sure that she didn’t truly understand why he was telling her all of these things, she most likely assumed that he was just having a breakdown, and maybe he was, but he needed someone to know that he did know his son, that he did love his son. 
“Sir… your son is going to be okay and so is your wife…” He glanced over to you, watching your chest rise and fall unnaturally with the help of the machine that you were hooked up to. “They’re going to be just fine, so please, go get something to eat and then get some rest, you need it.” She nodded at him before pivoting and walking out of the room and leaving Namjoon alone with his thoughts once more, the silence of the room only broken by the soft beeps of the heart monitor beside your bed. 
How hypocritical it would be to get something to eat right now, when you and your son were being fed through IV’s because both your mouths were filled with tubes that helped you to breathe. He was terrified to sleep, the unknown of the future lingering above his head like the dark clouds that had filled the sky the day of the accident. He was petrified of what he’d possibly wake up to if he even tried to get a wink of sleep, and he couldn’t even fathom leaving the room to go to the cafeteria. So he didn’t… He stayed in the vicinity of the two rooms, going back and forth between them both until his legs couldn’t carry him anymore, until he broke down at the side of Namgils bed, holding onto his son's hand and silently begging him and you to be okay. 
“Joon… you have to go home, get some sleep, we’ll stay here with both of them… Please… You need to look out for yourself too.” Taehyung said with Jimin murmuring in agreement right behind him, the younger members hand placed firmly on Namjoons shoulder in a sentiment of support and sympathy. “We’re worried about you…” He added, but Namjoon wasn’t having it, the words only further proved what you had said the night before all of this had happened. 
“Always about me…” Namjoon muttered, shaking his head, his disheveled hair flopping around his sullen face. “I’ve looked out for myself enough… That’s all I ever did… That’s why they’re here. If… If I had gone with them… This wouldn’t have happened… Or I’d at least be going through it with them. I’ve been selfish, and I always thought that he and her would always just… be there… That she’d always put up with my shit… And now look…” A quiet sob escaped him as his forehead fell against the edge of his son's bed, a spot where he had accidentally passed out every night for the past 5 days. 
“You can’t think like that.” Jimin whispered, moving to squat down beside Namjoon. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened… That storm came out of nowhere. No one had been able to predict it, and there were a lot of other accidents all over the area…” Words of what seemed like an attempt to be reassurance fell upon deaf ears as Namjoon continued to shake his head, weeping into the bedside. “Y/N wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this, and neither would he… If you’re not going to go home, at least grab something to eat and take a nap on the couch. You couldn’t possibly be comfortable right now…” 
“And who am I to enjoy the luxury of comfort when my wife and son have tubes shoved down their throats because they can’t even breathe on their own? Surely they’re not comfortable right now, so why should I be?” He took a shaky breath, letting it out slowly before turning to look at the two men who had become brothers to him, his eyes blotchy, red and puffy from the countless tears that had spilled from them. “I just want them to be okay…” He practically whimpered, curling into himself as he broke down once again, both of the guys falling to the floor beside him and holding onto him, a last ditch effort to hold together the man that had been their leader for so long. 
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“Mmph…” You groaned as you shifted your body to climb out of the car, one hand holding onto the handle as your other hand worked to push you from the seat. You didn’t remember much, all you could remember was the fear that squeezed you like a vice grip as you tried to control your car from plowing into the two others that had already crashed in front of you. All that had run through your head was your son, wanting nothing more to protect him and hoping, praying that he had been strapped in well enough in his booster seat that he would be okay. 
The two of you had been okay, that was the crazy thing, you had pumped the brakes enough that when you hit the car in front of you, it hadn’t even been hard enough to leave much more than a small scratch in your fender. It wasn’t your initial crash that had been the problem, it was the four other cars that had come behind you, and somehow your car had ended up on the bottom of everyone else's. 
To say that you and your son were lucky would just be too minute a term. By some miracle, the two of you had made it out alive, although in critical condition, but after a month and a half in the hospital, you were finally able to go back home. “Let me help you, I can help you…” Namjoon said as he ran around the front of the car to hold the door open for you, his hand offered out for you to grab, and you quickly did, clenching your teeth as you finally planted your feet on the ground. 
He let out a sigh of relief when your hand stayed in his, but you could read it on his face, see it in his eyes that he was still upset. “Please stop blaming yourself, Joon… It’s not like you’re the one who brought on the storm. Just be happy that we’re here.” You smiled at him, letting his hand drop from your own as you looked towards the passenger doors. “Can you bring him in…? I don’t think I’ll be able to carry him.” 
He rolled his eyes at your joke, thinking that it was far too soon for you to be making fun at your current state, but then again, there was no point in staying sad about it, it would only bring you down and slow down the healing process. It was much easier to laugh about it, in the hypothetical sense, because it helped you to forget just how bad it really was. 
“I should have asked the guys to come over, they would have been able to help you while I get him.” Namjoon murmured, his back turned to you as he carefully lifted Namgil out of the car, cradling him against his chest delicately as he walked towards the house. Each of his steps were slow and calculated, trying to figure out how to move so that Namgil wouldn’t feel much of it. “And please don’t try to tell me that you’re okay, your ribs are still broken. It’s a miracle that they didn’t puncture your lungs…” 
His body shuddered at the thought of it, the thought of potentially having lost you, so you quickly snapped your mouth shut, not wanting to upset him more. “Lay him in our bed… I don’t think I’ll be able to fit into his and be comfortable, plus it’ll be easier for me to care for him.” You said, following slowly behind Namjoon, trying your best to refrain from grunting or wincing too much. 
Namjoon sighed quietly, nudging open the front door with his knee and holding it for you as you walked in before going straight to the stairs. “I’ll help you up once I get him in… Don’t try to get up the stairs by yourself, please… If not for me, at least for him. I know he wouldn’t want you to end up back in the hospital.” He said on his way up, his words having you stop at the landing, silently grateful for the small break that you had, leaning against the railing and trying to collect yourself, telling yourself that the pain wasn’t as bad as it felt. 
“I’m gonna have to get a stairlift or something put in here so I can get up and down the stairs… He still needs to eat and drink…” You told nobody in particular as Namjoon made his way back down the stairs, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist once he reached you. “Maybe I can just get a mini fridge and a microwave for the bedroom for the time being, just so that I don’t have to leave him.” You were trying to figure things out, and for the most part, Namjoon was silent, listening to everything you had to say as he helped you up to the bedroom. 
Your son was awake, propped up on two pillows in the middle of the bed, watching the tv screen that hung over the dresser in the bedroom. Mickey Mouse was on, and for the first time since you had woken up in the hospital, you could see a faint smile on his face, the sight of it was enough to have you tearing up. “Lay down and get comfortable…” Namjoon urged as he walked you to the bed, his arm never letting you go until you were laying down and covered up. “And… could you stop talking as if you’re going to be doing this by yourself.” He whispered, lowering himself down next to your side of the bed, his voice quiet enough that only you’d be able to hear it. 
“I really don’t want to argue with you right now…” You whispered back, your nails gripping the blankets and pulling them up higher to your chin. “I just need to figure things out for when you go back to work… I just need to get myself better so I can make him better… Okay. Don’t worry about it.” That was the end of it, at least you wanted it to be the end, you didn’t want to come back home and immediately pick up where you had left off. The least he could have given you was one day to get comfortable in your home again. 
He shook his head, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with your own and the feeling of his hand in yours, his skin against your own, it was something that you hadn’t felt in so long, not in this way, it was almost shocking to you. “I’m staying here with you, and with him. I’m not leaving… I’m not… I won’t, not for anything.” He murmured, his thumb brushing over yours as he looked into your eyes, wanting you to see the sincerity that burned within them. “I’ll be right here the whole time.” He emphasized his words, pulling the rings out of his pocket and sliding them onto your finger. “I messed up and I missed out on a lot of things… But I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m not going to be an idiot anymore, at least I’ll try my best not to be… But I love you, and I love him, and the two of you are my whole world… I’d do anything for you two, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize what I truly had.” His bottom lip trembled as it pressed against his upper lip, his nose twitching with silent sniffles. 
He was your husband, he was the father of your son, and he was the love of your life. He was genuine, and he was kind, albeit sometimes he didn’t use his head a lot, but he loved you and he loved his family, and that love was strong and it ran deep, that much you were sure of. You had heard the stories from the other guys during your recovery that he would go between the hospital rooms, and that he’d refuse to sleep, and that they basically had to force feed him jell-o because he didn’t want to eat and they were worried he’d end up in one of the rooms as well. At the end of the day, no matter how stressful things got, and no matter what happened, he’d always come home to you, and on those days where you felt your worst, he was always there to lift you up and tell you how amazing you were. You needed him just as much as he needed you, and your son needed both of you. 
“Have…” You whispered quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet snores of your sleeping son beside you. Namjoons head tilted in confusion as he absentmindedly toyed with the rings on your finger. “You said had… Past tense… You still have us, we’re not going anywhere either… It was only goodbye for a little while.”
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lovelybunny08 · 11 months
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Part 5:Water Fountain
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♡ Pairing- Jungkook X Reader
♡ Genre- Romance
♡Description- The last Chapter. Are you two finally happy or will he finally let you down slowly?
♡ Word Count- 910 (shortest)
Writer Note~ Sorry for the long waited for the last chapter. There is no smut in this chapter is just the end. It took me a long time lots of this have happened in my life and I didn’t know how to finish it with this story supposed to be a one-shot. I do hope you enjoy the last chapter. 
PART 4                                                                                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                                      
I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing. I groggily reached over and picked it up to see a text from Jihye.
"Bitch you better be getting ready for your date.”
I rolled my eyes as I read the message. After all, drinking last night and the talk she had with me, and setting 3000 reminders she had to text me.
I quickly replied, "Yes, I haven’t forgotten. I just woke up from my nap about to get ready.”
"You better wear that sexy dress," she replied.
I rolled my eyes and just told her I will send her a picture after I’m done getting ready. My heart started to flutter as I thought about getting ready for the date. I wanted to look my best, but at the same time, I didn't want to come across as desperate. 
After spending hours getting ready, I finally emerged from my apartment and was surprised to see him waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He looked just as handsome as I remembered, wearing a black suit with a black shirt under the jacket. His tattoo was covered but you can still see his tattoo on his hands where he gives you a single rose.
“This is the first to many,” he said.  I blushed and grabbed the rose and thanked him quietly. 
As we walked to the restaurant, we caught up on what had happened in our lives since we last saw each other. I was nervous and my heart raced, but I was also excited at the prospect of spending time with him again. What surprised me is he knew everything that happened. He has been in touch with my mom.  That just brought up so many questions from why to was it him that paid for everything. I decided to put it in the back of my mind once I saw the restaurant.
The restaurant was cozy and romantic, and we shared a bottle of wine and some delicious food. We talked about everything from our dreams and aspirations to our favorite movies and music. After dinner, he said he had a surprise for me. He paid for dinner and we walked while holding hands. My heart started beating so hard. I felt like a schoolgirl again going on her first date. 
“We are here.” He said When I looked up I was shocked.
He brought me to the Water Fountain where we first met. It was dark, and the fountain glowed with a soft, golden light.  Just as I remember so many years ago. This is where everything started for us. We sat down on the edge of the fountain, and he took my hand.
"I've missed you," he said, his eyes locking onto mine.
"I missed you too," I replied, tears welling up in my eyes.
"I'm sorry for everything that happened. I was confused and didn't know what I wanted, but now I know I want to be with you. Will you give me a second chance?"
I was overwhelmed with emotions as I looked into his eyes. I knew I still loved him, and I wanted to be with him more than anything, but I needed to know first.
“What made you feel like we can work out, I am not pretty. I am just this average girl that has been used.” I said looking down at our hands. He let go of my hands and knew he would leave me. Who wanted a girl like me all used up and ugly.
He sighed and brought his hand to my check. It felt so warm and soft. I couldn’t help but to lean on it and close my eyes.
“Look at me” I open my eyes to see his beautiful boyish face that forever hunts my dream. “I fucked up and what that guy did to you was fuck up and he will pay for it.  That is something I can promise and please don’t ask me how.” I move my head to look straight at his eyes. 
“But never say you are an average used girl. You are amazing after everything you have been through you recovered moved up in your company and living alone. Look at you, you are strong and beautiful and it took me this long to realize is you I love.” He said grabbing my hand again.
You were shocked this was everything you always wanted to hear and more. This is when you remember what your mom told you. If you want something then go get it don’t let no one or anything stop you.
"Yes, I will, give you a second chance " I replied, a smile spreading across my face.
We kissed under the soft glow of the fountain, and I knew that everything was going to be alright.
You never left so happy in your life until this moment under the water foundation. Once before you were here so young and naive. But here you are again young but wise and happy. 
He will teach you how to love yourself again. 
`````````````````````````` 10 months later~~~~~~~~~
We decided to get married at the Water Fountain, the place where we first met and where we reunited.
As I walked down the aisle, I saw him waiting for me, his eyes filled with love and admiration. I couldn't believe that we were finally getting married and would spend the rest of our lives together.
We exchanged vows and rings and kissed as husband and wife. I looked around at our friends and family, all of whom were beaming with joy and happiness.
As we walked hand-in-hand away from the fountain, I knew that our love was stronger than anything that could ever come our way. We had been through so much, but we had come out the other side stronger and more in love than ever before.
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paraisooos · 1 year
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𝖽𝖺nz𝖺 𝖽𝖾 (𝗂𝗆)𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌.
| 𝗞𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗩.
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"somos aquello que en la vida no se pudo, somos arte, somos uno"
Se trataba de el baile de graduación de la escuela secundaria, junto a éste, un par de amantes completamente enamorados. El lugar estaba completamente adornado e iluminado, era realmente precioso estar allí. Se alcanzaba a observar muchas parejas felices bailando un lento vals. Pero ahí estaban ellos, avergonzados, mirándose mutuamente de reojo, el sentimiento de amor entre ellos era mutuo, pero no eran más que mejores amigos llenos de miedo a el rechazo. ¿Podría alguno dar el primer paso? ¿O iban a quedarse callados a todo momento? ¿No se sentía mal reprimir los sentimientos? Si tanto se amaban.. entonces, ¿porqué era tan desconfiado e inseguro el declararlo? Pero, quizás.. alguno podría dar el primer paso, darlo así sin más, repentinamente
«¿bailas?» estas palabras fueron dirigidas de Jungkook hacia su menor, Taehyung. El castaño rió en voz baja tras aquella propuesta, pues se la había tomado como una broma, pero al notar la seriedad de el asunto, asintió con algo de vergüenza la propuesta de su mayor.
Jungkook se levantó de el asiento, ofreciéndole la mano propia a su contrario, así invitándolo a hacer lo mismo para comenzar a bailar su pieza. El menor se puso de pie poco a poco y un pequeño rubor se dejó ver en sus mejillas, sin darse cuenta, el mayor ya tenía sus manos en la cintura propia, comenzando con la pacífica danza. Un paso atrás, luego uno adelante, a un lado y al otro y, de repente, todo fluía como si hubieran bailado unas mil veces más antes de eso. Los dos atesoraban eternamente el momento, Jungkook le dedicó una sonrisa a su contrario, porque éste lo dejaba embobado y no podía hacer más que sonreír.
— eres una maravilla nunca vista, eres inigualable y me traes realmente más enamorado cada día que pasa. Realmente, desde el primer momento me atraiste, tu precioso cabello castaño brillando bajo la radiante luz de el sol, tus ojitos luminosos como si de una estrella se tratara, tu cuadrada sonrisa tan encantadora y, simplemente.. todo tú, Taehyung, todo tú me encantas.
El castaño se quedó atónito tras las palabras dichas por su contrario, sus mejillas se ruborizaron aún más de lo que ya lo estaban y su sonrisa se extendió de par en par. Por un momento se quedó callado, pensando y analizando un poco las cosas, pero al tiempo la danza continuaba, todo era tranquilo y lento.
— Oh, querido Jungkook, el bombillo de mi camino. — soltó un gran suspiro, dejando salir toda la cobardía y atreviéndose a todo — que me traes aún más enamorado, tu dulzura y tu encanto me pierden en un laberinto lleno de puro cariño, a cada momento pienso en lo tan bonito que eres, en lo magnífica que es tu persona y lo preciosa que es tu apariencia, yo ..-
Y, de repente, el mayor interrumpió sus palabras en un beso lento y profundo, fue correspondido, claramente. Sus labios se movían al compás, dándose todo el tiempo de el mundo para recorrer cada centímetro de la boca impropia. Todo era realmente dulce y mágico, el tacto de sus labios se disfrutaba y conmemoraba infinitamente. El beso terminó y la danza se detuvo, pero, hubo un muy pequeño susurro por parte de Jungkook antes de acabar con todo.
— Te amo, Kim Taehyung.
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douglass-fir · 1 year
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Jungkook hates that he can't forget.
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[18+] It didn’t matter who was fucking him, or how good it was. At the end, there was always a gaping void, taunting him. Something missing where a memory now stood.
That memory was Seokjin—his best friend and the only fuck he’d never forget.
It wasn’t Seokjin's technique that haunted him. Although Jungkook will never forget how his own body gave way for Seokjin's size.
It wasn’t the desperation of it. It wasn’t the ghost of Seokjin’s pillowy lips against his throat. It wasn't the way his knobby fingers grappled at Jungkook's skin.
No. It was the way he cradled Jungkook’s head as he came.
Cradled it. A small but perfectly-timed move that would torment Jungkook during the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t help but remember.
Their one and only time together.
It was a fluke, really. Rooming together in a foreign hotel. High off the crowd’s energy. So much nervousness left to burn.
So when Jungkook rolled over in the dark and dared to wordlessly kiss Seokjin’s cheek…and then his ear, and then his lips, the dam between them broke all at once.
Their chemistry was inevitable—they could hardly remember a time when they didn’t know each other. Grew up alongside each other. Breathed the same air in the same dorm and often in the same bedroom, in the same bed, for years.
Seokjin was there when Jungkook discovered he liked girls, then…discovered he liked everyone. Knew that Jungkook feared nothing, except disappointing those he loved. Knew he secretly cried in his room sometimes. Knew he was a tender soul in an unstoppable shell.
So it was no surprise to Jungkook, that Seokjin could sense his climax fast approaching before Jungkook said a word—could feel the subtle shift in Jungkook’s muscles as his body tensed beneath him.
Before he could whimper "hyung, ’m close. 'm close—" Seokjin was there, shifting one palm beneath Jungkook’s head, lifting it off the mattress, cradling it as Jungkook began to writhe.
Jungkook can't forget how Seokjin stared down at him in wonder, like everything he knew about Jungkook had unfurled onto the bed beneath him.
“That’s it, oonguah, come for hyung. Shhhh, I've got you. I got you,” he rasped out as he pulled Jungkook's head closer and dipped down to kiss along his jawline.
How was it so easy to walk away from that night? To mutually laugh it off in the morning, chalk it up to pent-up energy, and agree it was probably best to stay “friends”, for the sake of the group?
Maybe they were too scared of the water they were treading in—how deep the well went? How long had they stepped around it without either of them saying a word?
It was a wrinkle in time that became a long crack in the wall of Jungkook's memory. Unignorable no matter what he hung on it.
Healthy relationships. Genuine romances. It made no difference.
At the end, Jungkook would be filled, teetering on the edge of release, with no one to cradle his head as he tipped over the edge.
That ends tonight.
At least, that’s what he hopes.
He pulls out his phone and types, thumbs sweaty and trembling against the screen.
JK: hyung, r u awake? SJ: JKah it’s 2am JK: so yes? SJ: you know me too well. JK: I know.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
twitter | ao3
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rosethornarchive · 1 year
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— COVERING THE MARBLE SEAMS —
CHPT. 4 – WHERE DO WE GO?
🌙21k+ words🌙
🌒Mature
🌒JiKook
🌒Dark Fantasy
🌒Mystery
🌒Greek Mythology
The fast turning of Jungkook's life hits him harder than he anticipated. His own actions came up so quick that the opportunity to think about what he'd done came and gone. And now, there was no going back for either his or Jimin's actions.
This is where the story truly begins.
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mashedpotittiess · 2 years
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Seance Season 3
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Chapter 3: Strength be in thee
It’s been SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED AND I’M SO SO SORRY, I had a ton of life events happen and I hope to once again start writing regularly as I have so many plans for Seance Season, Arrangements and other upcoming fics!
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Afab Reader. May have other BTS members paired with reader but that hasn’t been decided yet
Summary: You repeatedly told yourself you did not have Magick. But one evening has you fearing for what you’re starting to become. In the middle of all of that, you have this pull to Jungkook that you both can’t quite explain. This new season of your life is Seance Season. Will you come out the same person?
Words: 9,700+
Rating: PG13-M’ish. Some Sexual scenarios but not the full Snex.
Genre: Magick, Witch au. Fluff, Angst and Smut. Slight Horror.
Tags/Warnings: Strong mentions of Magick and spells. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the idea of wicca and anything of the sort as certain remedies and ‘spells/chants’ are in fact real to some. Drinking. Fighting. Blood. Destruction. A man harms y/n. Horror to some degree. Extremely religious folk be wary. A fight scene and some gore.
Pls excuse if there are any spelling or grammatical errors. I don’t really have a beta or anyone to scan for anything like that <3
Fic Inspired Playlist that I highly recommend while you read each chapter as they set the mood. Link is here. 
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5MtUQrFY03hPtVdVQiGszw?si=2b203cfc1c1a46e7 
Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad​ @mwitsmejk​ @ggukkieland​ 
To be added to the taglist of this fic or all of my fics lmk through comments or dm’s c:
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Not a word was shared as you quickly took the bag from the side on the floor and practically ran to the bathroom to not only change but to clean up the wetness you knew your little grinding session had caused.
Stuffing your panties that you had tried to wash off in the sink into an inside pocket of your bag, you threw your hair up and sent a prayer to The Goddess that Jungkook wouldn’t be in your room when you left the comfort of your bathroom. Not wanting to deal with a possible talk of what had just happened.
To your delight the dark haired man had seemed to have already joined your parents downstairs as no traces of him being there in the first place were seen. Slapping the palms of your hands over the apples of your cheeks to hopefully calm you down and get your ‘shit together’ you slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way out of your room to the delicious smells and murmured talking coming from the kitchen.
Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, you returned the calls of Good Morning from both of your parents with your own semi grumbled ‘morning’. 
You set to work on fixing your plate full of fresh cut fruits, scrambled eggs, crispy maple bacon and a thick piece of toast. Jungkook had been sitting next to your father engaged in conversation that had seemed to preoccupy him, Thank the Diety's.
A shallow knock was heard followed by someone letting themselves in. You almost spit the piece of toast you were crunching between your teeth when a pair of arms wrapped around the back of your chair and pulled you into a tight embrace. 
A slew of coughs was made from your throat earning a mumbled apology from Taehyung. Despite the small sting in your throat as the crusty pieces of bread stuck to the back of your esophagus you welcomed Tae and Joon’s company, engaging in friendly conversation with them rather fast over your plates of breakfast.
The thick cut crispy bacon was almost enough to make you moan as you happily savored the flavor. “Jin’s serious about moving, he already sent me like 3 possible living options last night.” Namjoon chuckled. A small whine was heard as you sat your chin on your palm. “I know he is. You guys know I love you and I understand your worry but I don’t want to be a burden.” Namjoon set a large warm palm over your shoulder and you felt the care in his eyes. “You’re never a burden and you know damn well if it was any of us, you’d not only do the same thing but your ass would hop in the car with them and not let them out of your sight”. He was right and you could do nothing but nod in response.
“Thanks for breakfast Mrs. y/l/n.” Taehyung exclaimed with a hug to your mother who had been beaming at him and Namjoon who had helped clean the dirty dishes as you and Jungkook cleared the table in silence.
“You all are more than welcome! You know you’re welcome here anytime.” Your mom smiled happily. Jungkook had followed the boys out of the house with your bags in tow to pack up the car.
An arm was wrapped around your shoulder as you watched the dark haired man from the front porch of your parents house. “He’s a pretty good man from what I can tell.” The signature scent of your mothers perfume invaded your nostrils as you nodded. “I’m thankful for his help.”
“You know y/n, you’re single and have been for a little bit and well it seems as if he’s available.” Your eyelids closed before you could roll your eyes. “Mom please stop, I’d rather not talk about my lack of romance with you and oh my god! mom he’s coming this way please hush.” You pleaded with the woman in front of you who had looked as if she was suppressing a chuckle.
“Jungkook thank you for bringing y/n and helping her. Not only are we in your debt but know you are welcome here anytime.” Returning a handshake and half hug from your father, Jungkook then turned to your mother who had pulled him into a hug as her many bracelets jingled together.
“I can’t thank you enough, please contact us with anything you may need or if anything comes up. Also, pay y/n no mind when she’s grumpy, she’s just a hard shell to crack.” A large smile was spread across Jungkooks cheeks which showed his bunny-like teeth and made him look as if he was a child.
Your mothers arms moved to wrap around your shoulders and you returned the warm embrace as your father joined the hug. “I gave a few bags of herbs, incense, crystals and other Magick goodies. I know this is all scary to you but if you could try and hone into your power and study the craft maybe it will help you. We love you baby, please stay in touch and if you need us you bet your bum we will close up shop and break many speed limits to get to you. Let me know when you get home ok?”
An I love you and an ok left your lips as small tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Pulling from the embrace you willed your legs to take you to the sleek car that Jungkook had currently been sitting in to give you your time with your parents.
The car ride had been awkwardly silent at first but after a stop for coffee you both seemed to engage in small comfortable conversations of your favorite drink choices. It was almost as if what had happened in the morning had been forgotten which left you thankful yet a little disappointed as Jungkook hauled your bag over the cushions of your couch.
“I know you probably want your time alone but call me if you need anything okay? I just sent you a text with my home and work address if for any reason you need them. Hobi and I go way back and I know how much of a good guy is, so if for some reason you need time off from work or just need to blow off steam, tell him. It isn’t my story to tell but he is aware of Magick and can be a person you can talk to about it.” Jungkook had offered to stay again but you said you needed time to be alone and made sure to thank him profusely for his kindness and help.
As you walked the taller man to your door you bid him goodbye with a small wave. The click of the deadbolt locking in place gave you a small bit of comfort, from what you weren’t sure. The mention of Hobi knowing of Magick came as a small shock to you. He didn’t have power, that much you could tell. But a small smile spread over your lips at the possibility of being able to talk to someone else about Magick until your best friends came to the city, someone who hadn’t set your insides aflame every time you thought of him.
The smell of Frankincense and Dragons Blood Resins invaded your nostrils as you opened one of the canvas bags your mother had sent you with. You didn’t want to dwell on everything that had happened recently so you connected your favorite spotify playlist to your Home Speaker Device and got to work on organizing everything your mother had given you.
A forkfull of spaghetti noodles was shoveled into your mouth as you texted Jin back when he sent you a list of simple charms and spells he felt you should have a try at. The tang of marinara was just what you needed when dinner time came around and what better meal to have than spaghetti? 
You had placed several small warding charms on the window’s of your apartment and a large piece of purple Lepidolite now sat on your nightstand in hopes of keeping the nightmares at bay despite Jin and your mother telling you nothing would stop the dreams as they were part of you, not a curse or something to ward. But the thought of having such items in your home gave you a small semblance of peace. If they didn’t help with your nightmares and new found power, then maybe they would help against the man who attacked you in the alley.
As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell into a deep slumber. The blankets curled around your body like a cocoon and the scent of lavender soothed your mind. 
Eyes fluttering open to the sound of nearby construction, you momentarily thanked the Goddess, for your sleep had been peaceful and nightmare-less.
Pulling your hair up into a haphazard bun, you got to work on making your morning coffee. The smell of the beans wafted throughout the kitchen and your plate of toast and jam clicked against the table as you sat down to enjoy your breakfast.
Your fingers felt pruney after you finished washing the minimal dishes you had had in the sink after your breakfast and the couch cushions caressed your bottom as you enjoyed the already late morning. 
The chime of your phone signaling you had gotten a text message brought you out of your mid after noon nap.
Jungkook : Hello, I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing? Any nightmares or issues today?
A small smile crept over your face as you read the message, your thumbs tapping away at the screen. It was sweet of him to check on you. For such an intimidating looking male, he truly acted like a sweetheart sometimes.
Y/n : Hey! I actually did sleep pretty amazing if I say so myself. I’ve gotten to enjoy my day off.
Jungkook : Thats great (: Do you work tomorrow?
Y/n : I do, I go in at 9. Did you work today?
Jungkook : I did a little bit of delegating at the office but nothing serious. Maybe I’ll stop by Lennons tomorrow, I’m sure Jimin will want a drink after work.
Y/n : Ooooh fun fun. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow then.
Jungkook : Enjoy the rest of your day y/n and remember if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to text or call.
Texting a quick thank you, you sat up and tossed your phone onto the cushions next to you. The light of your room illuminated the space as you corralled any dirty clothing that had needed to be washed. You had been fortunate that your apartment had a washer/dryer combo in the unit. 
A stream of lavender scented fabric softener entered the small space marked ‘softener’. With a gentle push of your index finger against the start button, the machine started with a low hum and a short rotation.
The sizzle of your cut chicken breast cooking in the pan sounded throughout the kitchen as you got to work making a quick and filling salad. Lana Del Rey’s crooning vocals covering ‘season of the witch’ had you swaying to the beat. 
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
Adding a pinch of paprika to your sizzling chicken, you watched as the spice sprinkled the poultry with a beautiful color.
Must be the season of the witch
A sharp pang resounded in your temples causing you to grip the kitchen counter between your outstretched hands. Your eyes shut tight as the pain radiated, making your head pound. 
Visions of an old shed situated in a field of dying grass fluttered beneath your lashes. The silhouette of a woman running through the field was blurry but you could clearly make out her form. She looked terrified but suddenly came to a halt seemingly staring something or someone down. You could see her expression turning stone like before she smiled so radiantly you swore it was like the sun itself. Her hands shot out in front of her as a beam of blinding light was cast before you and suddenly the pain ceased and the vision was gone, your closed eyes only meeting darkness.
Your eyes slowly opened and you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes. You’d hadn’t recognized the woman but there was something familiar in the way she smiled, a beautiful strength in her eyes. 
Turning the knob on your stove before the chicken could burn, you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. Questioning what just happened could be put on hold for later, for now you just wanted to eat. You had had enough questions and life changing realities lately and today was the first day that truly felt normal and you intended on keeping as much of that as you could.
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Shoveling mouthfuls of cinnamon toast crunch into your awaiting mouth, your thumb hovered over the screen of you cellphone as the device dinged, signaling a notification.
Hoboss Man: Hey y/n, I was wondering if you could come in earlier tonight? about an hour earlier. There’s going to be a live band tonight and they are sure to draw a big crowd so i need help pre-making mixes and making sure we are stocked up on the necessities.
Y/N: Of course! I’ll be there (:
Hoboss Man: TY TY TY Y/N!
You smiled as you set your bowl on the drying rack near the sink and made your way to your living area. A few episodes of Criminal Minds sounded really good right now.
Time passed by faster than you thought it would; with television episodes and texts from your best friends to keep you busy, you hurriedly jumped up from the couch realizing you had a little over an hour and a half before you needed to get to work.
You fluffy robe hugged your body as you got to work on blowdrying your hair. The lavender and argan oil in your styling products smelled divine as you pulled your now dry hair back and set to work on your makeup for the night. 
Opting for a neutral soft smokey eye, you created a thin yet long wing with your liquid liner and coated your lashes in waterproof mascara before plopping a pair of lashes atop. A good amount of waterproof and anti-humidity setting spray later, you coated your lips in a honey colored lip gloss and popped them together to make sure they weren’t sticky.
Your eyes switched from the left to the right as you eyed the two outfits laid on on your bed. If it’s busy it might get too hot for velvet you thought as you nodded and placed the black velvet dress back on its hanger and into your closet. 
Pulling the medium washed denim dad jeans over your legs, you fiddled at the button and watched as the black fishnets showed under the big holes situated on your thighs, shins and under your butt. The cropped black tank top ended just above your belly button and the lacing on the back pulling the top together was surprisingly easy to tie up, the black lace of your bralette showed under the back of the top but you didn’t care.
Short combat boots fit snugly over your socks and completed the outfit. Pulling an oversized denim jacket over your body, you threw your cellphone in your small crossbody bag and made sure to lock your door on your way out.
A crowd had already formed at the side of the building when you got there and you had to pull your phone out of your bag to tell Hobi to let you in.
“Y/n thank you once again for coming in early. How are you?? Jungkook kind of told me you were going through something and that you may need to talk to me.” Pulling away from the big hug he enveloped you in you smiled at the sunshine-like man.
“I’m okay, I just.. it feels like my life has truly been set upside down but i’m slowly coming to terms with the changes. I just hope tonight can be fun and busy so I won’t have to think about myself or my life or anything really.” Hoseok was tempted to ask if you were sure you didn’t want to talk about it but he didn’t want to push it, so with a small nod he led you behind the bar so you could set your stuff down.
Twenty minutes until the bar would start letting patrons in and you were standing there quite proud of yourselves. Between you and hobi, you had restocked all the domestics and IPA’s, made 3 bottles of simple syrup, various fruit syrups and additives you needed for mixed drinks, Pre-mix for margaritas and had the different types of ice ready for cocktails.
The crowd was being ushered in by the bouncers while you wiped down the top of the bar and Hoseok started placed various shaped glassware to your left in preparation of the ordered to come.
The dance floor was expanded to a bigger than usual size for tonight, some tables being taken to the back to make room. A mix of soft RnB and acoustic rock sounded over the speakers as the bands staff got to work setting up the stage.
Sienna enveloped you in the biggest hug when she came in for her shift and you smiled against her taller form. “HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?? I missed you. I was worried about you but Hobi said you just had some things to deal with back home.” After assuring her that you were in fact alright she pulled you in for another hug before going to her usual tables to take orders. It may have only been around 7pm on Friday but the place was busy as you watched Sienna, Katrina and Brenda flitter across from table to table. A busboy brought freshly washed glassware and placed them in rows behind you.
Nearing 10pm, the heat of the bodies packing the bar was getting to you, with a shrug of your shoulders, you draped your denim jacket over one of the dressing hooks. A cheer from the crowd was heard as the band started walking out onto the stage. The opening thumps of the drums followed by the strums of the bass set into a rhythm.
Shoving your bottle opener back into your back pocket, you placed the ice filled bucket of coronas onto the awaiting tray and smiled as Sienna sauntered off to deliver them. 
Your head nodded to the music as you filled two glasses of whiskey and handed them over to the awaiting customer. Hobi emptied the tip jars into a larger container behind the counter and placed them back on the bar. One of the busboys was called over to help with the draft beer selection while you and hobi set to work of various mixed drinks and shots.
Wiping the sweat from your brow with the towel set over your shoulder you took a sip of your iced cold water bottle. 
“Two frozen strawberry margaritas, one mojito and two lemon drops please” A brunette woman called out as she squeezed between the awaiting patrons. Nodding you accepted the cash from her outstretched hand and lined up your glassware by the two blenders. A squirt of strawberry syrup, a few frozen strawberries, some margarita mix and tequila was poured into each blender and you watched as the colored turned a delicious deep pinky red shade. Topping each glass with a few sliced strawberries you then got to work muddling the mint and sugar for the mojito. Placing each drink down in front of the brunette you handed her her change only for her to tell you to keep it as a tip. With a thank you, you got to work on your next big order.
At around one the band announced this would be their last song. You quite liked how busy the night had been and the band sounded amazing but all you wanted to do was get home and step into a steaming hot shower to rinse away all the sweat you felt stick onto your body.
The bass resounded off of the walls and you could feel it in your body as the band put their all into their last song. Hobi thanked the busboy for his earlier help as Sienna came behind the bar to take a sip of her lemonade. “That table over there, yeah the one with the older guy. They tipped me $200 just for two crawfords and a piña colada.” She pointed a bright orange manicured nail to the said table and you clapped your hands against hers. “FUCK YEAH!”.
The final hour was filled with last minute drink orders and Hobi got to work on cleaning up while you handed the last round of drinks to customers. You even met the band as they came to sit at the bar and ordered a few beers after their set. 
Handing you a wad of cash, hobi smiled as he announced he would walk you home. The crisp air outside had you clutching your jacket to your frame and you thanked the redhead for walking you home. Bidding Hobi goodbye with a hug, you pulled out your keys from your handbag and headed into your apartment building. 
Throwing the cash tips onto your dresser I’ll just count it tomorrow, you peeled off your clothing and practically jumped into the shower after putting your hair into a bun. The almost scalding water felt amazing against your skin as you worked your soap into a lather and rinsed away the grime and smell of smoke from the busy night.
Slipping your fuzzy sweater over your head, you tried your best to avoid it sticking to the moisturizer you had just patted into your face. The scent of patchouli wafted into your nose from the burning incense and your sheets felt like butter against your skin as you laid down.
but don’t forget y/n, through the darkness a simple flame can light the way.
Your alarm blared through the space of your bedroom and your eyes screwed shut as sunlight bled through your curtains. Your comforter felt so fluffy against your limbs as you scrolled through social media. 
An hour was spent in bed before you finally decided to haul your body up and to your bathroom. Your morning skincare routine and cold water is what finally woke you up from your groggy state. The cool fabric of the sheet mask over your face felt invigorating as you set to work on making some toast and tomato salad.
With a drizzle of olive oil and a small squeeze of lime you set the prepared tomatoes next to your toast and ate your breakfast while a frantic namjoon chased jin around his room on your cellphone screen. 
“y/n tell him to put my modem DOWN!!”. Namjoon stood with his hands on his hips as he huffed out air from his parted lips. “y/n, tell him that he needs to be packing, NOT PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY.” You shook your head as you truly couldn’t believe that in less than two weeks, they would need to be packed and fully ready for the trek to the city.
“Jin be nice and Namjoon, you need to help Jin with the packing.” You smiled as your teeth sunk into a crunchy bit of toast, the tart cherry tomatoes and lime juice coating your tongue.
With another huff, Namjoon put his hands up in a sign of defeat and plopped back down onto his desk chair while you listened to Jin go on about what would need to be done the next few days. Some days you truly loved how meticulous Jin was, but you knew it was exhausting at times having to listen to him drone on and on about how and what he needed and that’s what led you to giving the younger man a sympathy look.
You felt accomplished, you had swept and mopped and tidied up the living room all before your upcoming shift. The hot water from the quick body shower lined away any sweat that accumulated on your skin.
Running the curling iron over your hair, you set the soft curls with hairspray and some hair fragrance. Swaying your hips back and forth to the music coming from your speakers you got to work on your makeup. A bold and smokey cat eye accentuated your eye shape and the deep red lip tint that you wore gave your lips a tantalizing look.
The slick leather of your pants slipped over your legs and you tucked one side of your sheer black button up blouse into the waist, snapping them close with a pop of the button and a pull of the zipper. The strappy lace bra you wore underneath was visible through the material but you took it one step further as you unbuttoned the top three buttons to show off a good amount of the black scrappy undergarment, which had also shown a great amount of cleavage. “Eh it’s Saturday, might as well look good”. You thought and smirked as you spritzed a few sprays of your favorite fragrance. Dabbing a few drops of dragons blood oil behind your ears and on the middle of your neck to help ward off negativity.
With an inhale of the smokey resin oil gracing your skin, you pulled the laces of your chunky heeled boots and tied them tight. You stopped by your kitchen on the way out and paused to mutter words of manifestation.
Tonight would be great, negativity will be banished and danger will not be tolerated nor would it beat you.
The walk to Lennons was filled with crisp evening air and a few catcalls from passing men that you reciprocated with a roll of your eyes, for it was way too early for that.
A slip of your key and the bar was opened to you. Hoseok was dancing with a broom in his hand in the center of the open sitting area to what you recognized as a Justin Bieber track.
I get my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit)
I get my weed from California (that’s that shit)
I took my chick up to the North, yeah (Badass Bitch)
“I get my light right from the source, yeah YEAH THATS IT.” Hoseok dropped the broom as your voice came out louder than the music he had been immersed in. With a chuckle you set your bag on a hook behind the bar counter. “Dude, you’re such a talented dancer.” Hoseok swept up the debris into the small dust pan and shot his head. “I was just messing around.” Pumping soap into your hand you lathered up your fingers. “Still, if that was just you messing around, I can only imagine how great you truly are. I saw how good you danced with Sienna that night.” The mention of Sienna made his cheeks redden and a soft chuckle to escape his lips causing you to smile with a knowing look in your eyes.
Tonight there would be a DJ serving as the main entertainment for the later hours of the night so if last night had been any indication of how busy it would be you knew you and Hoseok had to get your asses in gear with the prep.
The busboys helped get all the glassware clean and ready and one even helped you align the ingredients for your most popular drinks like margaritas and but Hawaiians.
Guests started walking through the doors slowly but surely around 9 but by 10pm the DJ was setting up and throngs of people filled the space on the dance floor and nearby tables were already being crowded. Orders kept coming in and you thanked the Goddess that Lennons had an amazing air conditioner system.
Hobi sent you on a little lunch break after Sienna got back with some burgers and much needed crispy fries from the restaurant nearby with the words of “GET YOUR ASS SOME FOOD, YOU’LL NEED IT TONIGHT”. Puckering your lips against your beautiful coworkers cheek you thanked her as she placed your bagged order in your hands and practically ran to the back office to scarf down your food as you didn’t want to waste more time than you needed.
Taehyung served as your entertainment while you facetimed him and ate. He gave you insight as to when Jin and Namjoon would possibly be in your city and you chuckled around your burger as he quipped about how Jin truly acted like Namjoons spouse when they argued like an old married couple.
The cheese tasted like heaven on your tongue as you relished the last few bits of your greasy meal. Bidding Taehyung goodbye you cleaned up your mess and shoved your phone in your pocket, accidentally missing the ding signaling a text from Jungkook with the noise of the bustling bar. 
As you rounded the corner behind the bar, Hoseok placed an order of martinis and a strawberry daiquiri on the counter and shoved the cash payment in the register, with a thumbs up he quickly ran to the back with his own bag of delicious greasy food.
Glancing at the customers that were sipping on their last dregs on whatever drink was in their glass you got to work on the patrons that seemed to be new and hoped they were easy orders. A busboy by the name of Trent helped you with any glass bottle beer orders and you made a mental note to remind him to take his share of the tips at the end of the night as he had been an immense help while Hoseok enjoy his food.
Flipping the shaker upside-down you strained the cucumber martini mixture into a glass and plopped a sliver of the green vegetable over the rim. A quick rinse and the shaker had been cleaned and ready for your order of royal fuck shots. A cheer resounded as the DJ called out to the crowd that the show was about to begin.
The opening lines of Girls in the Hood sounded over the speakers and you wiggled your hips along to the remixed beat as you ran from customer to customer.
“Four mango mojitos and a round of blue kamikazes please” A man you swore you recognized called out over the music and you took out outstretched $50 bills into the palm of your hand. 
Drizzling the blue curaçao into your shaker you lined up your shot glasses with our other hand as you got to work shaking the mixture. The mango margaritas had already been handed to the gentleman and your row of 6 shots was pushed forward towards him as you watched him take the change you had given him and shove it into one of the tip jars.
Hoseok came and joined you as you filled another order and you sighed in relief to have your partner back. The three of you settled into a quick rhythm and you were actually able to sip your water and relax on occasion.
Awhile later a flash of familiar finger tattoos blocked your vision as you set down a mango mango tai and you felt your insides ablaze knowing who the inked hand belonged to.
Your eyes quickly darted up to Jungkooks face and you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips. “Two old fashions” The black haired man called out and you nodded your head. Setting two rocks cubes into the short glasses you poured top shelf bourbon into each glass, watching as the amber liquid glinted from the bart top lighting.
Handing you a credit card he signaled to keep it open and before you could say anything else Hobi had engaged in a conversation with him. 
It was nearing 1am and the dance floor was packed with writhing bodies as the heavy bass thrummed against your chest and the vibrations were felt against each glass you set down. The lights were turned to a mixture of red and pink and gave off a very sensual look.
“You should go dance with him y/n” You had been wiping down your shakers and bottle openers when Hobi’s voice was heard close by. “hmm? who?” for a second you truly didn’t know what or who the red head was talking about. “Don’t play dumb y/n, he’s been staring at you ever since he got here”. With a sway of his hand he signaled towards the man who set your insides aflame.
“But it’s a busy night an-“ You were quickly cut off “No no, Trent and I have the bar covered and we’re abut to close up soon so just go enjoy yourself a little, you need it.” You chewed your lip before finally placing your tools down and poured yourself a tequila shot, flipping Hoseok off at him chuckling at your need for liquid courage.
You patted your partners shoulder and quickly glanced at the crowded but maintained bar as you le your feet take you to the VIP table that Jungkook had been lounging at. His amber eyes shot up sensing your presence and a soft chuckle was heard from who you recognized as Jimin.
“Hey.” An awkward smile graced your lips as you instantly regretted listening to Hoseok but before you could make an excuse for your visit to the table or make your way back, Jungkooks melodious voice called out. “Hey, have a seat. I didn’t want to bother you while you were working earlier but i’m glad Hobi hyung let you come over and have a break.” Flashing his eyes towards the bar you shook your head at the little smirk Hoseok threw your way and you instantly knew they had both cooked this  “little break” up and were most likely talking about it earlier.
Scooting over on the plush seating, you situated yourself on the edge near Jungkook. Katrina made her way over in an attempted saunter of her hips and you rolled your eyes Of course she has this table. 
“Did you gentleman need anything else? Y/n aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her lips may have been smiling but her words were laced with sarcasm. To your surprise it wasn’t you nor Jungkook who answered, but Jimin. “She’s allowed a break and we asked her to come over to our table, but that’s hardly your concern. If you can get us two more old fashions and whatever y/n wants, Thanks.” His light grey eyes twinkled as they formed into cresent moons with his smile and the giggle you gulped down was extremely hard to hide.
“Mojito please and a bottle of water.” With a slight stomp that was reminiscent of a child having a tantrum, Katrina worked her way to the bar. 
You had been in a conversation with Jerrod and Jimin when you felt your body sway to the music. 
Jungkook had noticed your hips sway and he couldn’t help but down his drink needing to see you move more freely and not constrained by the seating. “Would you like to dance?” A deep voice was heard against the shell of your ear and you bit your lip with a nod. Scooting off of your seat you took a few big gulps of your refreshing mojito and took the outstretched palm into yours that was leading to the packed dance floor.
Your hips swayed to the beat and Jungkook’s palm found the back of your hips, pulling you in close.
You’re such a fucking hoe, I love it
Curling your fingers around his neck you felt the silk of his black collared shirt beneath your fingertips. He had been so close you swore you could feel his breath against your forehead as you looked down at your bodies grinding against one another.
You know you like it more, I love it
Turning your body around you swayed your hips and ass against his front and smiled as his hands practically dragged you closer to him with a hard grip around your hips. Throwing your head back against his shoulder, your hair swung and you reached behind you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck.
Closing your eyes you let your body dance to the beat and match the rhythm of the changed song. 
The feel of another pair of hands around your waist caused your eyes to shoot open and glance at the person intruding your space.
Eyes meeting ice grey ones you felt yourself calming down a little bit and you cocked your eyebrow at him as he leaned in towards Jungkook before you could question what he was doing. 
“Did you feel the presence? Don’t look now but near the alcove on the lefthand side” Jimin’s soft voice became hard as he spoke to the man behind you. Jungkook’s hands stayed planted on your hips and his lips came closer to your ear. “If it’s okay with you, Jimin and I are going to stay in this position with you. Don’t get scared okay? We’ve got you” With a confused nod your eyes tried to find whom Jimin had been talking about but his body literally blocked you from seeing anything.
Closing your eyes once again you focused on the feeling and aura’s of people in the bar, lust and happiness had heavily penetrated the air but a second later you felt it, something dark and cold void of anything but malice was felt further away and your body visibly shivered.
“Hey hey, relax” Jimin rubbed circles over your round cheek and his touch was soothing almost like the coolest of water streams was grazing your cheek and you briefly wondered if he had been a water conjurer.
A quick text from Jungkooks phone was sent to someone and before you knew it you were being dragged out of the bar by both men.
Turning a corner you felt the same dark presence following you as you three made your way to a nearby playground. Both men had their arms around your body, one around your shoulders and the other around your waist as you made your way onto the grass.
You could feel a shied of sorts similar to when the ice conjurer had attacked you envelop the playground.
“I was simply going out for a little drink but it seems I’v gotten something better.” A deep voice caused you to whip around and face the man that had emitted the malicious presence.
Dark eyes void of anything but cruelty looked into yours and a wide and wicked smile spread across his face. A taller body suddenly blocked your vision of the man and you were pulled against another body from the back. 
“What do you want?” Jungkook barked out as the man took a step closer. “A taste of the girl of course, my oh my what an interested specimen! She feels like the darkness but smells like all the good in the world. Girlie dark magic isn’t something you just come by, tell me, where did you get it? Did you offer up a sacrifice? Natural born are not something that is known and our community is well aware of anybody with power. Who are you hmm?” A chuckle escaped his lips s he stepped even closer. “Now now don’t shield her, she feels divine. I suggest you move boy, before I make you.”
The lights from the area all went out shrouding the plagued in darkness and the air became chilling as her advanced on your trio. A tsk was heard as the men with you did not budge at his threat.
Tendrils of smoke curled around your bodies and you could feel something trying to crawl its way out of your own body. Clenching your eyes shut you curled your fists and stabbed at the flesh of your palms with your nails willing it to go away.
The feel of heat licking at your skin caused your eyes to snap open and a literal ring of fire was cast around you three, causing the tendrils to flick back towards their owner.
A nod from Jungkook to Jimin made the two men advance on the intruder. Flames engulfed Jungkook’s forearms and feet as his eyes blazed a bright amber. “A fire conjurer? ooooh i must admit I knew you were a magic holder but I guess I was too caught up in the feel of her presence to sense you. Nevertheless, I’ll eliminate you either way. A wicked glint of teeth shined against the darkness surrounding him.
Obsidian shards pierced up from the ground near Jungkook causing him to leap away and tumble towards the swinger to your right. Predicting where Jungkook would leap to, the man sent an orb resembling a blackhole towards him and Jungkook barely escaped with a front roll. Countering the attack Junkook sent a row of flames towards the intruder and one licked at the mans legs causing him to growl out.
This seemed to anger the man and suddenly his hands and neck were covered in inky black veins, his scleras tuning pitch black. A wall of obsidian shards was sent towards Jungkook who put up a shield of fire but obsidian doesn’t burn its ordinary flame and he was hit by two to his left arm. A hiss leaving him as the shards pierced against his skin.
A teleportation ward was cast and within a blink of an eye the man was closer to Jungkook, his arms shot out and inky black smoke out out from the veins around his hands, hitting jungkook on the left side of his torso and wrapping around his body.
The tendrils squeezed at his body causing him to choke out. You needed to do something and you could feel your body shake. Your veins throb and you could feel your vision blur. A call of your name caused your eyes to snap back towards Jungkooks kneeling figure who had a smile on his face.
Whipping your head around you followed Jungkook’s eyes. Jimin swung his wrist around and a long spear of ice was conjured into the palm of his hand. With a heavy throw, the spear was launched towards Jungkooks attacker. With a quick backwards glance the man narrowly escaped the piercing of the spear, but not without an injury. The blade dug into the flesh of his thigh and struck the ground causing him to be stuck in his spot. With a push of his arms Jungkook’s fingertips turned black and the flame singed against the attackers torso. 
With a piercing scream he thrust his body backwards away from Jungkook and ripped his leg from the spear. Another teleportation ward was thrown and his body flashed away from both men. The shrillest of laughs was heard and his body was thrown into a fit of what seemed to be giggling. Claws seemed to form on his right hand as he thrust his fingers into the open wounds and singed flesh Jungkook had attacked him with. Black blood pooled around his hand as he brought his fingers to his face and licked at them.
With a flick of his wrist droplets of blood were sent towards Jimin and shadowed figures sprouted from the ground. Armed with a Sword of ice, Jimin sliced the blade in the air and fought off his attackers that seemed to be taking on a solid form.
The mans calf seemed to almost regenerate itself as an inky red liquid was poured over it. Jungkook stood as his eyes burned red. “You can cast forbidden black flame, you won’t be so easy to kill I see and a dual wielder to top it all off? It seems I underestimated things.” You snapped your head towards Jimin Dual wielder? Sure enough with his other hand Jimin had conjured orbs of water that he had launched toward the shadowy bodies. The orbs seemed to hold each of their bodies in almost a bubble as his sword swung and sliced their heads off.
Whipping your head back to Jungkook, the two engaged in a physical fight, two obsidian daggers clenched in the hands of the dark magic holder and a sword of black flame in Jungkooks right hand.
A clash of what sounded like metal was heard as they attacked and advanced upon the other. The smoke surrounding the man was trust towards Jungkook but his flame burned through the darkness. The smell of blood and signed flesh was pungent and you skin itched and the want to engage in the fight but you were so scared of losing yourself like last time, you needed more practice.
The sound of bone cracking was head as Jungkooks flame fight collided into the side of the mans and a piecing howl curse from his lips. Thowing his body over Jungkooks, the man wrapped his hand around Jungkooks throat and muttered a chant as smoke filled Jungkooks lungs and black veins sprouted over over face. The mans face was partially caved in and blood was matted against his skin as the flames had cauterized most of the wounds upon contact. Jungkook could feel his skin crawling as fear took over his form and caused him to almost be physically paralyzed and unable to move. The true power of a holder of dark magic was felt then and there and it scared him to no end.
Running towards his body, you were stopped by a large wall of clear ice seemingly blocking you in  makeshift cage. Screaming out at Jimin you saw his form run over to Jungkook before tendrils grabbed at his ankles and he was taken down. Shadow creatures crowded over his body as he tried to fight them off.
Claws broke skin against Jungkook’s throat and he felt himself grow faint. Before he could close his eyes a scream that sounded like his mothers voice but he later realized to be you screaming at Jimin resounded in his ears. Clenching his fists he brought his knees up towards his chest and launched both of his feet towards the man causing him to go backwards. The man’s claws tore at Jungkooks skin as the were forced away from his throat.
Tendrils shot out from all directions and surrounded Jungkook causing you to lose sight of what exactly was going on next to the jungle gym slide jungkook had been lying near. A gruff scream caused panic to flood your chest and you thrust your hands against the crystal clear ice wall causing your dark tendrils to shatter the ice as the wall crumbled down around you. 
Running into the darkness you prayed to the Goddess that both Jungkook and Jimin would be safe. Your nails turned into black claws slicing into the skin of your palm as you clenched your fists tightly. Vision clearing as your eyes adjusted to the thick charcoal smoke and you were ready to attack. Before you could launch yourself forward, your eyes rounded at the sight before you. Jungkook had a back flame covered hand thrust into the mans torso and Jimin sliced at his neck with an ice dagger promptly decapitating him. 
The ice froze any blood from being able to spurt anywhere and Jungkook’s flame had cauterized the wound just leaving behind a sizable hole. Tendrils and shadows dissipated into the ground and the light from the moon lit the area once again.
“We have to go y/n.” Jungkooks hand curled around your wrist as the mans body slumped backwards. Jimin muttered words over his body and before your eyes it disappeared along with his head. A wave of Jungkooks hand caused the shield to drop and with it all the disarray fixed itself and seemingly went back to normal as if the fight had never happened.
Both men walked with you to your apartment but you had been in too much shock to even realize where you were going until you stood in front of your apartment door. Thanking your stars that you had placed your keys in your pockets that night you fished them out and unlocked the front door with shakes hands and it wasn’t until then that you realized your palms had been bloody.
With a wave of your hand, both men followed you into your home and Jungkook locked the door behind you three, murmuring an enchantment in the process.
“Wha..what the fuck just happened tonight?!” You questioned as your body shook and the sight of the headless man clouded your vision. You were scared but oddly enough satisfied and that scared you. Advancing to your shaking form Jungkook placed his hands on your shoulders. “Hey just breath okay? He’s gone and can’t hurt you”. The man in front of you trailed his eyes downwards as he caught a glimpse of your bloodied palms. Jimin happened to notice around the same time as well, his soft voice cutting into the silence that followed “Do you happen to have a first aid kit or perhaps some herbs around?”.
You caught sight of the dirty blonde flittering around the kitchen as Jungkook led you to the sink, a sharp sting following as the cold water made contact with your gashes. Your eyes watched as the crimson water flowed down the sink drain and soon the liquid turned a light pink as most of the blood had stopped surfacing long enough for Jungkook to press a damp washcloth onto both of your palms and press down, the pressure causing your eyes to shut tight with a slight wince.
A tin of the healing poultice you had made was fished from your fridge by Jimin and Jungkook uncovered one of your hands as the slightly shorter gentleman smeared an apple amount onto your left palm, the cold, thick and gel like texture felt soothing against your open skin before a thick wrap of gauze and bandage wrapping was tied around your hand. The process was repeated onto your right palm and a glass of water was presented in front of your lips by Jungkook. “Drink this and then we’ll talk, alright?”. With a slight nod you leaned forward and the rim of the glass was highly brought to your lips, a gently nudge forward caused the liquid to stream down into your mouth with each gulp you took. The cool water felt amazing against the walls of your throat as the screaming from tonight took a toll on your vocal cords.
When you finished your glass of water, hands wrapped around your wrists and brought you to your couch. Your body slumped against the plush cushions and Jimin wrapped the throw that had been hanging off of your seating around your form. Jungkook sighed at the way you three had looked, him and Jimin a lot worse for wear than you physically but emotionally he knew you were once again going through an immense amount of thinking and hardships.
Your eyes had snapped upwards to both men in front of you and it was then that you noticed the blood trailing from Jungkooks open gashes on his throat and his torso which had seemed to be leaking blood into the fabric of his shirt. Jimin has scratches and cuts all over his exposed arms, a few near his neck and a deeper cut her his left collarbone. “You guys need to wash up and we need to treat your wounds before any talking gets done! My palms were nothing compared to the shape you’re both in currently!. 
Hands curling around both of their wrists you bit down on your bottom lip to keep your wince at bay but kept on walking them towards your bathroom. “Wash up while I prepare some clothing and items to treat your wounds! I won’t take no for an answer now get to it!” Your voice was strong despite your still fogged brain as you knew no good would come from the guys practically bleeding out onto your wooden floors Okay maybe that was a little overboard but still you thought as you practically shoved the men into your bathroom and shut the door closed before they could protest. 
Leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door you shut your eyes for a moment and felt the drag of a large inhale fill your lungs as you heard the water turn on. Now was no time to cry, you knew you needed to get your shit together and be strong, not only to help the guys who helped you but for yourself. You owed it to yourself to be the strong capable person you were and you’d be damned if a psychopath wielder of dark magic would get into your mind! 
With a push from the wall behind you by your left foot, you began to get any article of clothing that you had from your best friends together that would hopefully fit the men and folded them into a neat little stack. Eyes closed shut you gently open the door by turning the knob and slid your arm into the small gap you had made to lay the clothing onto where you thought the sink was.
A lights chuckle was heard and you felt the clothes being lifted from your palm causing you to squeak and push the door shut. “It’s fine y/n, I’m still dressed with Jungkook showers.” Jimin’s melodic voice was heard through the bathroom door and you nodded your head despite knowing he couldn’t even see you. “I hope those fit, they might be a little wonky in some areas but they should do, I’ll be in the kitchen when you both are done.” You called out as you rummaged through your cabinets and drawers fishing out some herbs for tea and mugs. You thanked the stars that the poultice and first aid kit had still been out on the counter from merely minutes ago.
You were stirring the steering liquid into three mugs when the sound of the bathroom door opening was heard and footsteps made their way towards you. Once again your eyes met the sight of a half naked Jungkook as he clutched a t shirt in his hands. 
With a sheepish glance towards you he opened his mouth to defend why he had been half naked. “I didn’t want to get blood on the shirt before treating my wounds.” Y/n stop staring and realize that this man literally has rivets of blood pooling around the wounds on his neck and a trail has been streaming down his torso. STOP LOOKING AT THE ABS AND WHERE EXACTLY THAT BLOOD IS TRAILING TO.
With a nod of your head you motioned him over with your palm and began gently spreading poultice onto the gash along his torso thanking the Goddess it had been a shallow wound while he held a damp washcloth to his neck.
The wounds on his neck were much deeper and his skin was torn from each claw in a terrible manner. Your brows furrowed as you concentrated on slathering a good amount onto each gash made by claws, Jungkook gripped at the counter behind you as he winced from the pain. 
Finishing each wrap of glaze closed with a pin you watched as he pulled the shirt over his head with a wince and you found yourself helping him pull the material down his torso.
A moment passed as you both just stared at each other seemingly trying to ask if the other was okay as Jimin came strolling into the kitchen. Stepping away from Jungkook you took in Jimins cuts and scratches.
There were only two that seemed to still be bleeding and deeper than the others, the first on his left forearm going towards his wrist and the other on his left collarbone going in a crooked line towards his neck.
Slathering your fingers with the ointment you trailed them over each wound, paying special attention to the deeper wounds. Jimin held the collar of the shirt down as you reached up to spread the poultice over the slightly bleeding wound. A shiver racked his body as he felt the cool poultice touch his warm neck. Helping him wrap the deeper wounds you then cleaned up the area with their help.
With a mug of warm tea you each made your way towards your couch and you found yourself sitting between each man. You felt safe despite everything that had just transpired.
“Ready to talk?” It wasn’t either of the mans voices that spoke up, but yours and that shocked them both but the fire in your eyes showed strength as you brought your knees to your chest.
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Thank you so much to those who waited for this chapter and to those who just started reading this series! I hope you enjoyed and ily.
-Potitties
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jkjmworks · 7 months
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hiii... i think it’s been like two months since i last posted and i am so sorry. my excuse is i graduated from college two weeks ago and had to move back home so here i am. i have been reading many fics in the meantime so i will do my best to feed y’all
32,980 words
alpha jk, witch jm
happy ending ofc
death of others, they are tracking a demon
accidental mating (?) but like not really
little smut
SPOILERS: 
there’s not a lot since this is kinda short
actually i can’t think of any
happy reading ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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bbangpanmen · 2 years
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1 new message | seven
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pairing: idol!jimin x yn
genre: idol!verse | romance | social media au
you treat bts’ dms as a personal venting medium because you know they will never read your messages... until one day they do.
prev | next
au masterlist
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a/n: double update because i’ve deprived everyone for too long :-)
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witchygoogie · 7 months
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shed your leaves, blossom — chapter IX
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Pimpernel
Where things are tough and blurry, where the waters are deep and black, but Jeongguk keeps swimming, keeps reaching for the surface, because he has to get better. Because it's not just him anymore. “I also need you to know that I’m… I don’t— it’s not that I forget you. I lose touch with uh… reality, sometimes. Time gets weird, I get lost in it, but I, uh… I think about you all the time.”
21.4k words
to read on ao3
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