#btswriters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bangtangalicious · 3 years

Text

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted.

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.

He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why.

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

608 notes · View notes

army-author · 3 years

Text

namjoon scenario | the early hours

❝ chance encounters are what keep us going ❞ - Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

➝ summary: you love the city when it’s at its most quiet - in the early hours of the morning. you like it for its peaceful mystery. never did you expect that a stranger, spotted in your favourite 24-hour diner, would eventually invade your early morning solitude, and - most surprisingly - you wouldn’t even mind...

➝ pairing: namjoon x reader

➝ genre: fluff

➝ word count: 5.9k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: this whole fic is just me indulging in fluff! it was a lot of fun to write!

You prefer the night to the day. There’s something magical about the world after the hands of the clock pass the threshold into a new day. You are transported to a new experience – a new universe laid over the old – that will only be witnessed by a small handful of people, those who are still awake at ungodly hours. There’s a strange silence that stretches across the city after midnight. The occasional car sighs past, but the streets are empty. With the pavement bathed in blue moonlight and the sodium orange of streetlights, you could convince yourself that you’re viewing a parallel reality, shimming above the real world.

That’s why, despite your office job demanding that you get up at seven for the commute, you find it difficult to go to bed early. When you lie under the duvet at night, you have the odd feeling of missing out, aware of the city shifting beyond your closed blinds.

Most nights the city draws you out. The streets, that you often find yourself hating in the daylight – saturated with polluting traffic and bustling crowds, laying out a labyrinth of social interaction – are transformed at night, suddenly alluring in their quiet neon glamour. You love the lights. You love the moments of stillness, when the streets clear of taxis. You love the mystery.

That’s why you walk the streets at night. Sometimes you end up at your local convenience store, purchasing the discounted lunch snacks that didn’t sell that day. Other times you walk to a diner that remains open twenty-four seven – offering the best decaf coffee you’ve ever tasted. On occasion, you find yourself walking around the deserted shopping district, staring in the dark windows, haunted by the typical hubbub of the daytime.

This love of the city at night isn’t something you can properly communicate to anyone else. When you try to explain to your friends, they simply shake their heads and tell you that you should get some rest.

But how can you rest when the world is in its most pure, beautiful state? Sometimes, you think you prefer the company of the empty city to the company of people. You value the quiet – a respite from the drain of daily social interactions.

This is how, when the clock slips past midnight, you find yourself slipping out of your apartment. You fill your lungs with the cold air of the early morning, fresher without the fumes of traffic. It’s just stopped raining, and the onyx pavements glisten with dark puddles, reflecting back an alternate world where the street lights shine, distorted by ripples. It smells of wet tarmac. You zip up your coat and hitch your backpack up your back as you beat your feet along the familiar track towards your favourite diner.

As you walk, you pass stores, closed for the night, proffering clothes, make-up, and stationary that won’t be available again until nine in the morning. You pause in front of the bookstore to stare greedily at the hardbacks you can’t afford. You have a bookshelf at home filled with books you haven't yet finished. Still, the new releases stare back, tempting. They hypnotise you with the curve of their spines, their fresh paper, their smooth covers. Your wallet cries out in protest.

Rousing yourself from your thoughts, you push past the store, and walk down the street, turning at a pedestrian crossing. Ahead, you see the neon lights of the diner, pink and blue in the reflective pavement. You smile at the sight, like you would smile at an old friend.

Entering the diner, you find it empty. The sole waitress who works the nightshift glances up as you enter.

You take a seat at your favourite booth, next to the window. The waitress walks over to take your order, and you ask for a decaf coffee – as usual. Always the same order when it’s past midnight.

The waitress nods, and leaves the booth. You unzip your backpack and take out your sketchbook. It’s blue leather cover is soft in your hand. Past midnight is the best time to draw. When you’re enveloped in the cotton-soft murmur of the barely-stirring city, inspiration floats thick in the air around you – easy to pluck and put onto paper.

While you start sketching, the waitress silently sets your coffee and a pitcher of milk in front of you. You like the waitress because she never speaks more than necessary, silent for the vast majority of your interactions. It’s a welcoming, warm silence.

You take a sip of your coffee, black, the flavour washing over your tongue. Its a bitter and smoky taste, with a hint of chocolate. You breathe in the scent, invigorated, and set down the mug to continue drawing.

The door swings open, and despite yourself, you turn your head in the direction of the sound. It’s not often that someone else enters the diner at this hour. It’s too late for those who have clocked off from late shifts and too early for those who work early shifts.

Your gaze settles on the man who enters the diner. He’s tall, well-proportioned, in an umber jacket, with a bag slung over his shoulder. His hair has been dyed a light brown, but you can see black at the roots. He doesn't look like the typical patron at this diner. Then again, neither do you. Your eyes tack him curiously as he walks over to a seat in the corner. The waitress goes over to him, and he tells her his order in a deep, soft voice: “Decaf coffee, please.”

Despite knowing you should stop staring at this stranger, you cannot help but watch as the man takes a book from his bag, and removing a bookmark from the pages, resumes reading. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You smile. You like that book. A part of you wants to pipe up and tell him it’s a good read. But you never speak to strangers. You aren’t about to break a twenty-five year habit. You’ve got this far by allowing all your friends to do the introductions for you. Thank goodness for extroverts.

The waitress sets a mug of coffee beside the man, with her usual silence, and he murmurs his thanks.

You remain in your seat, sipping your coffee in silent thought, and adding to your sketch book. Before long, you’ve forgotten about the man sitting on the other side of the diner, focusing on the drawing you’re working on – a dragon slinking around the grey bricks of giant skyscrapers. The giant breaths golden fire.

For you, drawing is a way to organise your thoughts, spilling the contents of your head, giving them a concrete image you can identify. For that reason alone, you could never actually show anyone else your drawings. As you continue to sketch, the world slowly melts away into a pleasant white noise that hums around you.

It’s a shock when the quiet waitress walks up, asking if you would like a refill. You tell her you’re okay for now. Checking your phone, you realise it’s slipped past three in the morning, without you even realising. You need to get some sleep. Reluctantly, you stand up, slipping your sketchbook into the front pocket of your backpack. You leave a tip for the waitress, then make your way over to the door. Feeling eyes on you, your gaze falls to the man sitting in the corner. He’s observing you over the pages of The Hitchhiker’s Guide. Upon seeing you seeing him, his eyes quickly drop back to the book. Distracted, you bump against the edge of one of the diner’s tables, stumbling. You correct your footing, and with a blazing blush rampaging on your cheeks, you hurry out of the door.

✽ ✽ ✽

It isn’t until you get back to your apartment that you realise that your sketchbook is missing. You hunt around in your backpack, checking all the pockets, but it’s definitely not there. It must be in the diner. That’s the last place you had it.

You resist the urge to run back tonight. It’s past half three, and you have to work tomorrow. You can always go back to search for it later.

You lie awake in bed, worrying. In losing your sketchbook, you’ve left it open to the possibility of being read - your personal thoughts sketched out for a stranger to digest. It was your own carelessness that resulted in its loss, so you resign yourself to the possibility of never seeing it again, and slink, resisting, into sleep.

✽ ✽ ✽

The next evening after work, you return to the diner. You arrive earlier than you normally would. The sun is still visible – just setting beyond the crowns of tall apartment blocks. You arrive below the familiar neon blue and pink sign and open the door to the smell of chips and coffee. There are more people here than you are used to.

You check the table you normally sit at, which is mercifully empty. However, a quick search reveals no trace of your sketchbook. The quiet waitress who works the night shift isn’t there yet. Hesitant, you speak to the other waitress, explaining that you lost a sketchbook at the diner last night.

“Sorry, don’t know anything about it,” she says, wrinkling her brow.

Resigned, you thank her. You can always come back when the night shift starts and see if the other waitress knows anything about it.

Deciding to hang around the area, rather than return home, you grab some sushi at a nearby restaurant, then take a restless walk around the nearby park, watching pigeons pick at crumbs on the ground, and local college students smoke under the shade of trees. After you grow bored of the park’s trees, you wander around the streets, without direction, taking a long loop around the diner. The sky above darkens from blue to navy to black, and the streets slowly drain of life as people go home for the night. Still you stay outside, checking your phone every so often to keep a track of the time.

When it hits midnight, you return to the diner. The quiet waitress, who you are used to, is a welcome sight. She offers you the same small smile she always gives. You walk up to her. “Excuse me, I think I left a sketchbook here last night. Have you seen it?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says, “But if you think you left it here, feel free to have a look around.”

You frown. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You were so sure you had left it in the diner. Where else could it have gone? It was possible it had fallen out of your backpack on the walk home, but if that were the case, it could be anywhere.

Sighing, you tell the waitress not to worry, and order your usual decaf coffee. Sitting down at your favourite seat, with the comforting smoky scent of coffee beans wafting through the air, you wonder what to do next. You pick at the threading of your sweater, sip your coffee, and stare out the window. The sky is especially black tonight, clouds cover the stars and moon. Looking past your own ghostly reflection in the glass, a pool of darkness stares back, swirling with the stirring in your chest.

An hour could have passed, a minute could have passed, it’s unclear to you. Time seems to stand still in that diner, frozen on the brink of tomorrow, stuck between an old night and a new morning.

“Excuse me?”

You look up at the sound of the voice.

A man is standing by your booth – the man you spied in the diner yesterday, tall and slim.

Your gaze trails over his face – his cropped hair falls over his forehead, his crescent eyes capture the neon lights of the diner, soft dimples poke dents in the marble-statue structure of his cheeks.

“Hi,” you say, not sure why he’s speaking to you, but not wanting to be impolite either.

“Hi,” he says back. He searches in his bag, and pulls out a familiar blue sketchbook. “I think you dropped this yesterday.”

A wave of relief crashes over you. “Thank you so much,” you say, as he hands it back to you, “I had given up on ever seeing it again.” The worn leather cover feels comfortable in your hands.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” he points at the seat opposite you in the booth, “It’s my favourite spot.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you indicate for him to take a seat.

He sits down opposite you, and raises a hand at the waitress, who nods, and scurries off to fetch a coffee. “I figured the notebook must have been important to you, so I kept it safe,” he says, “It might have been a little presumptuous of me, but I had a feeling I’d see you again, and that I’d be able to return it.”

“Did you...” you trail off. The thought had crossed your mind that whoever found the sketchbook would end up looking through your personal drawings, and the worry had squeezed tight at your throat.

“Look inside the notebook?” The man asks, his waning-moon eyes scrutinising you.

You nod solemnly.

“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”

The second wave of relief hits you, warm like a tropical sea. “Good,” you stroke the soft cover of the sketchbook, “I really appreciate that.”

The man smiles, and his dimples deepen. “I must say, I’m a little curious what would bring someone to sit in a diner with a notebook in the early hours of the morning.”

A blush creeps hot under your skin. “I’m… drawing,” you admit.

The man nods.

You lick your lips which feel oddly dry. “But I suppose I could ask you the same - what would bring you here at these hours?” Curiosity cuts through your introversion.

The man shrugs.“I can’t sleep. I keep getting more and more frustrated, cooped up in my apartment, so I wander around at night, hoping I’ll get tired, and be ready to sleep when I go home. But something about the city at night is so exciting,” he stares out the window, at the darkness beyond, brimming with endless possibilities, “It doesn’t tie me out. It only excites me all the more.”

“I know what you mean,” you say, “I love the city at nighttime. It’s so alluring. I could wander around its abandoned streets for eternity, and never get bored.” Your blush only becomes all the more severe as you realise that you are spilling your heart to a complete stranger. Embarrassed, you shut your mouth, and swallow thickly.

The waitress arrives with a cup of coffee and pitcher or milk for the stranger. He thanks her softly, and without adding any milk, takes a sip of the dark liquid.

Unsure what to do with this stranger sitting across from you, you say, “If you were expecting any company from me, you might be disappointed. I’m not good at conversing with strangers.”

“Neither am I,” the man replies over his coffee cup, “Don’t worry. I was planning on reading anyway.”

Relieved, you take a mouthful of your own coffee.

The man pulls The Hitchhiker’s Guide from his bag, picking up where he had left off.

You scrutinise him for a moment, unsure what to make of this man. Something about his gentle manners, his kind smile, and his love for the city in the early morning resonates deeply with you – an unnameable vibration stirred at the very core of your being when you look at him. Despite your aversion to talking to people you don’t know, you find yourself wanting to make the effort to converse.

Instead, you open your sketchbook and begin drawing again.

Outside, the night flows by, a river of darkness punctuated by the occasional light from a car.

Time passes quickly without you realising. The man stands up to leave. “I should get going.”

“Oh yeah, I suppose it’s late,” you say, “Or is it early…?”

He packs his book back into his bag, and you take the courage to pipe up, “It’s a good read. Douglas Adams, I mean.”

“Oh yeah,” the man looks down at the novel in his hand, “It’s my third time reading it.”

You smile, “There’s this one line from the book that’s always stuck with me.” You pause, making sure you get it right, “‘Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?’ I’ve always like that.”

The man grins, his crescent-moon eyes deepening, “I like that too…” He looks as if he is considering his next words carefully. “Listen, I’m sorry if it was strange that I chatted with you today. I just felt compelled to do so. I don’t know why. But it reminds me of a quote from Kafka on the Shore, which is another book I’ve read at least three times - ‘Chance encounters are what keep us going’. I don’t know, I just thought you might like that one.”

“I’ve always meant to read Kafka on the Shore,” you say, “I really like Murakami.”

“You should read it,” the mans says, “It’s fascinating.”

“I will.”

“I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he says, “I don’t believe I gave my name before.”

“Nice to meet you Namjoon,” you smile, giving your own name.

With that, Namjoon exits the diner, leaving you to your own clouded thoughts as the door swings shut behind him. Despite yourself, you hope you’ll see him again.

✽ ✽ ✽

When you get home, you search your bookshelf for your copy of Kafka on the Shore. You never read it, despite is sitting on your shelf for a long time. You snuggle into bed, and start on the first page.

✽ ✽ ✽

The next night, you find yourself wandering the streets again, allured by the glowing neon lights on the city.

It’s a Thursday, and the streets are empty. Your feet lead you towards the diner. A small portion of you is hoping that you’ll see Namjoon again. You taste an oddly bitter disappointment on your tongue when you step inside, only to find the diner empty, apart from the quiet waitress.

Disheartened, you sip your decaf coffee, and read Murakami, while the earth spins by outside.

When you reach the bottom of the coffee cup with no sign of Namjoon, you stand up, resolving to go for a walk, rather than waiting around.

The air outside is cool and refreshing. You breath it in deeply, enjoying the cold sensation in your lungs.

Walking through the city, you wind your way through streets, passing abandoned play parks, empty shops, and silent office blocks. You could almost convince yourself that the whole world has stopped, and that you’re the last remaining human on the planet. Despite this, the earth still rotates, still makes its orbit around the sun, and this thought is comforting. Sitting down on a bench at the edge of a green park, you take out your sketchbook, and begin drawing. You want to capture this feeling permanently.

✽ ✽ ✽

As Friday rolls into Saturday, you avoid going out into the city at night. The city erupts with noise on weekend nights. People flock to the bars and clubs, laughing, joyous and loud, as they swing themselves down the streets. You don’t often go into the city on busy nights.

Instead, you stay inside, making your own decaf coffee from your coffee machine. It’s not as good as the coffee you get from the diner, but it’s good enough in a pinch.

These are the nights when you should sleep early to make up for your lack of sleep during the working week. Yet, as you lie in bed, staring at the dark expanse of your ceiling, your thoughts constantly circle back to Namjoon, hoping you’ll see him again some day.

The thought of connected souls flashes through your sleepy mind as you drift towards dreams. The idea is childish and naive, but it makes you smile.

✽ ✽ ✽

On Monday night – or is it Tuesday morning yet? – you return to the diner. Spotting a familiar figure at your favourite booth, you suppress a smile.

You sit down opposite him. He flashes you a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say back. With a signal to the waitress, she goes to make you a cup of decaf coffee with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again,” you say, surprised at your own honesty.

The dimples pop onto Namjoon’s cheeks, giving his grin a boyish charm. “It’s nice to see you as well.”

The waitress sets down the coffee on the table. It trails tendrils of aromatic steam. Its bitter taste is a good distraction for your mouth, empty of words. You take a sip, revelling in the chocolate sweet aftertaste.

“I love the decaf coffee they do here,” Namjoon says, as you set down your cup. “I never found a decaf coffee that tastes quite like it.”

You nod in agreement. “I don’t know how they manage it. All the other decaf coffees I’ve had feel like they lack as special… something that regular coffee has. By taking out the caffein, the taste often suffers as a result. But this-” You indicate to the coffee “- This is good.”

“Finally, somebody else gets it,” Namjoon grins, “Although, if we’re talking caffeinated coffee, nothing can beat a cafe down the road from here. it’s called Cloud 9. Have you heard of it?”

“Oh yeah, I pass that coffee shop on the way to work,” you nod, “Never had a chance to go in though.”

“You should,” Namjoon says, “If you like this coffee, you’ll like it there. The beans they use are really rich, like dark chocolate.”

“Sounds good,” you say, leaning back in your seat. You examine Namjoon, sitting across from you. It’s uncommon for you to be so comfortable with a stranger, yet here you are, conversing with him as if he were an old friend. You wonder what about him makes him so different for you. A cursory glance does not show anything out of the ordinary: tall frame, slim figure, the kind of handsome face that doesn’t stand out in a crowd, but gets more handsome the longer you look at it. A few leagues above you. And yet here he is, sitting with you, by his own choice no less.

“What?” Namjoon questions your inquisitive stare.

“Sorry,” you feel your cheeks turning pink with a warm flush, “I was just thinking… it’s not often I can speak so comfortably with someone I barely know.”

“Me neither,” Namjoon admits, “But I felt a certain spark with you, so I thought I’d follow it through, and see where it leads. I hope you don’t mind?”

A warm hand clutches your heart. “I don’t mind at all.”

✽ ✽ ✽

You sit quietly in the diner with Namjoon opposite. You read Kafka on the Shore – he smiles at your choice. He reads The Hitchhiker’s Guide. The world pauses on its axis. You feel a deep-rooted peace, engulfed in the silence of the still night.

When the coffee in your cup has gone, Namjoon closes his book. “Would you like to take a walk?”

You slip the receipt for your coffee into your book, marking the spot where you stopped. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

You exit the diner, and follow Namjoon out into the dark street. He leads you down new paths, paths you had not explored before. The night is full of eager possibility with him by your side.

As you walk, you talk about everything and nothing, the universe flowing from each other’s heads, spilling your minds to one another, and bearing your soles bare in the process.

By the time you pause your walking, realising that you’re standing by an old play park that you recognise from childhood, you feel as if you’ve known Namjoon for an eternity.

You walk to the swing that stands at the centre of the park. It’s the large basket kind of swing – the sort that you would lie down on as a child, and beg for your parents to push.

Now, years later, you lie down again, and Namjoon pushes you gently. The sky is unusually clear above you, starlight shining past the orange glare of the city. The heavens bow down to greet you as you swing upwards, then pull away as you hit the crest of the arc and fall back down to earth. Namjoon pushes you again and the cycle repeats.

At least, Namjoon gets tired of pushing and lies down in the basket beside you. There’s not much space on a swing made for children. Your arm is squished next to his. Namjoon’s warmth seeps through your jumper.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight a lot,” Namjoon says.

“Me too.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you. You pull your gaze from the starry sky to gaze back at him.

“Would it be okay if we do this again?” he asks.

A glowing fire sparks inside your chest. “Of course. I’d like that.”

Above you, the stars shine down, hazy through the city’s street-light sheen.

Namjoon moves his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. The action fuels the fire in your chest. You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, and stare up at the vast sky.

✽ ✽ ✽

You spend your nights in this way, enjoying the secrets of the city with Namjoon by your side. You walk through empty parks, visit quiet pubs, wander around empty shopping centres, and as the nights pass, you find yourself enamoured with this stranger whom you can no longer call a stranger. You even find yourself sharing your sketches with him on the odd occasion, unafraid of his judgement.

Namjoon is on your mind, even when you’re apart – wondering if he would enjoy the book you’re currently reading, if he’d like a cafe you visited, if he’s thinking about you the way that you’re thinking about him.

On your lunch break at work, you decide to visit Cloud 9 with a friend from your office – because Namjoon recommended it of course.

“This place is really… quaint,” Taehyung says, twisting his neck to inspect every inch of the coffee shop. He’s right. House plants balance on shelves above wooden tables, and oil paintings hang behind brown leather armchairs, all combining to give the cafe a homey feel – like returning to your grandparents’ house. Your attention is dragged over to the bookshelf in the far corner of the cafe, loaded with lopsided piles of second-hand books. With you and Taehyung both in formal office clothes, you look a little out of place.

When you order your coffees, and sit down at a table by the window, you’re eager to taste the beverage that Namjoon had been praising. You ordered a black americano, because you don’t want the full taste of the coffee to be dulled by milk or syrup. The first taste explodes across your palate with the bitter tang of dark chocolate, that quickly mellows to a blackberry flavour, earthy and sweet.

Across from you, Taehyung gives a hum of approval as he sips his flat white, a moustache of foam forming on his lips, which he licks off.

You stare out of the window at the busy plaza outside. Families duck in and out of shops, office workers scramble to make it to their next meeting, and tourists snap pictures of the fountain in the middle of the square.

“Hey!” You realise that Taehyung’s talking to you. “Are you even listening?”

You focus your gaze on him, his blue office suit contrasting with the brown leather armchair he’s perched in. “Sorry, Taehyung, I’m listening.”

“You seem really spacey today,” he says, frowning, “I mean, normally you’ve got your head in the clouds, I know. But today is especially bad, even for you.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” You train your attention on your friend.

“You seem really tired,” Taehyung continues, “I know you’re a night owl, but I’m starting to worry a little.”

You consider his words. It’s true that you’ve been sleeping later and later each night, enjoying your time with Namjoon. Normally, you’d allow yourself a few nights to recover, and get a full eight hours of sleep, but you’ve been missing out, not wanting to loose any time with Namjoon. As Taehyung surveys you with concern in his eyes, you realise you should be taking better care of yourself.

“You’re right,” you say, “I have been missing more sleep than usual. I’ll sort out my sleep schedule. Don’t fret.”

“Finally, you acknowledge my sage advice,” Taehyung grins, taking another sip of coffee, “Seriously though. I’m rooting for you. Whoever it is that’s keeping you up later than usual, he must be a real catch!”

Heat rises below your skin, red and urgent. Taehyung’s smirk only amplifies as you blush harder.

“So I’m right,” he says, “This is about a guy!”

“It’s not!” Your denial comes too late.

“Nope. I don’t buy it,” Taehyung says, triumphant, “You’ve finally got yourself a boyfriend. After all these years a virgin! I’m so proud.”

“Shut up, Tae,” you laugh, kicking him softly under the table.

His mouth parts in a wide grin that you cannot stay angry at.

“Okay, fine,” you admit, “So maybe there’s a guy. But we’re not actually dating or anything. Not officially. We just enjoy spending time in each other’s company.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s what dates are,” Taehyung says.

You struggle to find a rebuttal to this. Your blush deepens.

“I’m really happy for you,” Taehyung leans across the table to give your hand a pat, “But if you could try to arrange some dates for the daytime, for the sake of your sleep, you’d make me even happier.”

“I can’t promise anything, Taehyung. You know what I’m like.”

“All too well.”

✽ ✽ ✽

The next night, you meet Namjoon at the diner as usual. You don’t have butterflies in your stomach. You have a whole flock of birds, flapping around nervously inside you.

Namjoon smiles his dimpled smile in greeting. “Would you like to take a walk tonight? There’s something I’d like you to see.”

“Of course,” you say.

You follow him through the city streets, along empty pedestrian crossings, past silent railway tracks, up a large hill where the pavement slopes, with apartment buildings sticking straight up, like a giant came along and stuck large white logo bricks into the slanting side of the hill. Up and up you climb, conversing with Namjoon all the while – about movies you’ve watched, plans for the holidays, favourite seasons, childhood pets.

When you reach the top of the hill, Namjoon stops. “Look,” he says, so you look.

The city stretches out in front of you, an ocean of winking lights. On the far side of the city, you can see a motorway, the red and white lights of cars whisking strangers to different points of the compass. Apartments and office buildings tower over smaller structures, a forest of artificial light. A faint mist hangs above the city, giving the whole vista an other-wordly quality – a city on a distant planet.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

Namjoon turns to face you. You look up to his face. His beauty strikes you once more, strangely contrasted to the beauty of the city. The city is alien. His face is familiar – it’s home.

“Tell me, Namjoon,” you say, “What’s going on between us?”

“What do you mean?”

“These walks we take every night. Would you count them as dates?” You are surprised by your own honesty.

“I suppose they could be considered dates,” Namjoon tilts his head towards you, eyes reflecting the galaxy of city lights.

You swallow, hesitating. Where are you supposed to go from here? You’ve never been on a date before.

“You don’t have to think of them as dates if you don’t want to,” Namjoon responds to your silence. “Although… I like the idea of dating you.”

“I like that idea as well,” you admit quietly. Your voice is barely a whisper.

A smile spreads across Namjoon’s face. His expression catches you off guard, mirroring your own surprised smile – surprised that a man, who was a stranger only a few weeks ago, has enriched your life so much.

“Could I consider you my boyfriend?” you ask.

“I’d like that,” he says. In the dusk, his hands find yours. A halo of light from the city’s bright haze outlines your skin.

You take a step closer to Namjoon, led by his hands, fingers threaded through your own. Your heart vibrates in your chest.

Half of his face is lit up by the city lights below. Slowly, imperceptibly, you lean towards him, while he leans towards you. His eyes ask you a question. You answer back. Your chest rises, pushing out a nervous breath. You close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips connect to his, soft and warm. You slide into the safety of his kiss, a kiss that says: I’m here, I understand you, I want this to last forever too. You sigh against him, a thrill rising inside you. On parting, you find that your legs are unsteady, and your head is spinning from the impact of two mortal bodies colliding.

Standing in the glow of the city, framed by the lights of the other living souls on the streets, Namjoon is more beautiful than ever. There are no words. You can only smile. Namjoon smiles back. He understands.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Namjoon?” He looks at you, eyes gentle as you speak his name. You’re walking with him, down from the hill where you had both confessed, and shared your first kiss.

“Yes?”

“Would it be okay if we had some dates during the day as well?”

He chuckles, “You know, I was going to suggest the same. I love the city at night, but...”

“But my sleep has been suffering,” you finish for him.

He nods, huffing out a laugh. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers cold, but his palm warm against yours. You’re always on the same page with Namjoon – two souls connected. You had thought the idea of soulmates was juvenile. Now, with your life entangling with Namjoon’s, you begin to understand. Two souls, singing in harmony. That’s what you have. A special, chance connection. You won’t let it go.

You squeeze Namjoon’s hand, and he squeezes back, and your souls entangle a little more.

- THE END -

➝ author’s note: i just love writing about this kind of setting - a calm, sleepy city with beautiful lights :’) it’s a shame that most cities aren’t like this in real life. even in my city, which is relatively safe, I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking around at night on my own, like y/n does! but hey, that’s what fics are for - wish fulfilment! i hope everyone is staying safe!

if you enjoyed this fic, feel free to let me know! <3

152 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 4 years

Text

the most magical place in hell

Grouping: (For Science) Reader x JK

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings/Themes: implied sex, 5 is a crowd annoying friends since that’s the vibe these days, d*sn*y please don’t sue

Prompt: “For Science, I miss this couple sm. Any scenario would be fantastic! For inspo, did JK and OC get to go on a vacation, (jk expressed he wanted to in his journal) if so how did that go? Any fun new experiments?”

A/N: This commissioned fic is part of the Changes with Luv project, hosted by FicsWithLuv. Here you can find more information about the project, cause, places to donate, and ways to commission a piece or offer your services if you are a content creator. Thank you!

On the third day of the cruise, Jungkook rolls over in his sleep. His hand reaches for you. His palm meets the bare skin of your shoulder already moving despite how pale the morning light is under his lashes.

“What’s happening,” he mumbles before grabbing more greedily at you. There’s not too much resistance as you let yourself be dragged a few inches across the sheets.

“We have to get up. Breakfast starts in 10 minutes, remember?”

You lean down to press a peck just above his brow bone and he groans. As you pull away, there’s a sweet waft that hits him and lets him know you’ve already showered and gotten ready. Now it’s his turn.

He gives himself just until you gather your things and shut the door to the room. Then he’s pulling himself out of bed with every ounce of energy he has left. He brushes his teeth with his eyes closed, does a perfunctory shower with the lights off like it’ll give him some more sleep. But he’s still dead tired as he throws on an outfit and heads out the door.

The walk to the dining area was exciting 3 days ago. The decadent decor, the view from the high balcony separating his floor from the others, the grand 20’s style atrium with Mickey Mouse memorabilia incorporated throughout. Everything used to be exciting 3 days ago. Sadly, the first day passed and things quickly lost their charm.

As he scoops a smiley-face omelette onto his plate in the buffet line, he searches for your face in the crowd of families scarfing down their first meals of the day so they can take their kids to the waterfall pool on deck 6. By the time he reaches the end of the line, there’s still no sight of you among the tables. So he ventures outdoors where there’s less seating but considerably more sun. He thinks back to his quick routine in the room. Did he remember to put on sunscreen?

When he finds you, you’re stretched out on a beach chair and taking in some of the sun. His mood is partially lifted when he sees just how content you look getting warmed like a lizard on a rock in your tiny bikini. He stands over you deliberately just to see you pout and pull down your sunglasses with a huff.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Who’d you think it was?”

“I thought it was Hoseok about to ask me to take his profile pic again.”

Jungkook chuckles a little before sitting in the open seat next to you. “Couldn’t have been him. Too early.” “That’s true.” You sit up then, peering at his plate. “What’d you get us?”

“Us?” His smile is warm. “I thought you’d have eaten by now with the way you left the room.”

“I was looking for an empty spot for us. It was your job to find the actual food.”

“No one else would willingly wake up this early,” he cuts a fraction of the omelette before holding the bite up to you. “But I guess it’s only fair.”

You open your mouth happily.

“Permission to board the S.S. girlfriend?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m wasting fuel in the port,” he continues to hover the fork just outside your reach, even when you jump forward with a nip.

“Permission to board,” you grumble.

He laughs like you told a great joke and gently feeds you the bite. With soft eyes, he watches you point to different things on the plate and dutifully feeds you your fill. This might be the first time he’s been able to spend a few moments alone with you since the five of you got on the cruise. He finishes up the bit of toast you couldn’t finish and the few blueberries that didn’t interest you. He must be staring because you turn to him in your reclined position and return the favor.

“You’re looking a little red. Did you put on sunscreen?”

“I think I forgot. I was trying to get ready fast so you wouldn’t have to sit around alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” you reach into the bag you brought for sunscreen. “Yoori was with me. She left for the gym maybe 2 minutes before you came out here.”

“Oh,” is all he says.

Jungkook scowls a bit as you rub the lotion onto his face. That Yoori and Hoseok, and probably even Taehyung, might be spending more time with you on this trip than him is starting to be the horrible icing on this shitty vacation cake.

“Why don’t we take some time to—” He begins but a large shadow looming over the two of you makes him stop in his tracks.

“Hey,” a man with thick blond hair and even thicker muscles nods down at you. “You were at the adult lounge last night, right?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open. Thor—or the actor who plays him during the Marvel day activities—has come up to your spot. He’s got the Ragnorok breastplate on with board shorts adorning his chiseled lower half. From the top up, he looks just like the real thing.

“Wow. Yeah I was, I’m surprised you remember,” you hold a hand over your eyes so you can look up at “Thor”.

“How could I forget. You and your beautiful friend were quite the sight yesterday.”

“Oh, uh. Thanks.”

In all his excitement, he overlooks the flirting. Jungkook stands up from his seat then and sticks out his hand. “Thor” shakes it hesitantly.

“Hey. I know you’re not the real thing, but it’s great to see you. I wasn’t at the adult lounge last night, so we didn’t get to meet.”

Jungkook makes sure to puff out his chest so “Thor” will notice the print of his button down shirt. Tiny little hammers.

“Do you like the shirt?” He beams.

“Thor” squints down at the animated hammers.

“I can’t say I really know what’s on it, but sure.”

“They’re...they’re Mjölnirs.”

“Mole-whats?”

You gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth.

Jungkook drops “Thor”’s hand at the same moment, disappointment turning down the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing. They’re just drawings. Have a good day, man.”

“Thor” chuckles before looking back down at you. “Cute kid,” he says before sending you a wink and making some comment about getting to rehearsal.

Yoori returns from the gym that moment, nearly running into “Thor”. He gives her an appreciative once over which she returns smugly. Her expression changes as she approaches you and Jungkook looking like you had both seen a car crash.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you respond quickly with a subtle look at the back of Jungkook’s head to tell her ‘not now’.

“Well,” she plops down on the end of Jungkook’s beach chair, “How was breakfast?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook sighs and scoots back so she’ll have some room. “We finished a little while ago. Now we’re just making plans for the rest of the morning.”

“Couple stuff...I’ll go get myself a plate, then.”

You wait until Yoori’s disappeared into the dining area to turn to Jungkook. He doesn’t look angry per se. Just resigned.

“What were you saying before?”

“Hmm,” his eyes are far away, “I was just saying we could take some time to ourselves.”

He wants to say he feels like he’s barely seen you since he stepped on the ship, but he doesn’t want to make you feel bad. The funny thing is that you weren’t even looking forward to the trip before the first day. The tickets for this Marvel cruise were a last minute gamble. You had dropped many not-so-subtle hints about wanting to go somewhere a little less kid-friendly, but he’d waited until the last minute.

At first it seemed like the best possible last choice a person could have. You were all fans of the comics and movies with the exception of Taehyung and Yoori. Taehyung was more of a DC fan and Yoori just sort of let the movies wash over her. You’d been worried that the week would be torture for you with all the screaming kids around. But you were actually having the time of your life. Meanwhile Jungkook was having a less than ideal time.

“Sure. Like what?”

“Maybe we could relax? I’ve had research video meetings the last two nights, so I haven’t really been up for the late night stuff. And I’m just barely up for the morning stuff.”

“Hmm. What about the spa? I haven’t been there yet and it’s on my list.”

“The spa?” Yoori comes out with a mountain of waffles and rumpled-looking Taehyung and Hoseok behind her. “Yeah, let’s go to the spa!”

“Actually, I think Kook just wanted to—”

“I heard it’s actually pretty decent on this boat. They have a hot rock massage where all of the rocks look like the Tinman’s suit.”

“The Tinman,” Jungkook practically chokes.

“I think she means Iron Man,” Hoseok grins sleepily. “Anyway, I’m down for the spa thing too. Never too early to have a tiny lady go in on my thighs.”

“You’re literally so nasty,” Yoori glares back at him.

As your other friends bicker, you flash Jungkook an apologetic look. He shrugs because that’s easier than fighting it. He relishes the second plate of food you get for him and lets you feed him the bites in between kisses and mini-reapplications of sunscreen. It’s all the rest he gets that day. The spa is probably the least relaxing moment of his life.

He doesn’t even get to sit near you. Instead, he gets roped into the men’s section where Hoseok’s tiny lady goes too hard on his thighs and the resulting yelps make Jungkook’s ear drums pound. Taehyung falls asleep two minutes into the Iron Man hot rock massage and snores in a way that’s nearly identical to the 60 year old guests napping nearby.

You emerge from the women’s section with Yoori looking like you’d smell and feel like a rose petal. But Jungkook doesn’t ever find out if you do, because he’s being thrown right back into more “fun”. Somewhere in the back of his mind—between Black Widow meet and greet and the Ant-Man lunch show—he thinks that he would probably be having actual fun if he had some time to breathe. Although, he figures it’s enough to just breathe you in. He feels slightly less drained looking at your smiling face and wide eyes as a wild Hulk appears behind you at the pool after lunch, spraying you lighty with comically huge muscles and a comically tiny water gun.

“You’re not coming?”

Jungkook groans, partly out of guilt and partly out of exhaustion. It’s nearing 10:30 at night and you’re getting ready to go to the adult lounge again. This time it’s for all-things-Spiderman trivia and drinks. He wants to want to go. But he can’t find the strength. He figures too much sun and too much socialization is the answer.

“You’re not staying,” he counters as he does his best to sit up in bed. There’s a nice soft glow bleeding in from the giant picture window of the suite that looks onto the water and there’s some Loki pajamas calling his name. Your tight little dress is calling to him too. I’d look better on the floor, it says.

“I figured this would be a lot more lowkey than everything else we’ve done today. There’s no water and no noisy families. Or screaming Hoseoks.”

“You heard that earlier?”

“I did,” you grimace. “He must have really pissed off that masseuse.”

“I’m pretty sure he just talked with her like he talks normally.”

“Can’t fault her for that, then.”

There’s a beat of silence as you test the security of some strappy heels. Naturally your eyes wander from the shoes to your boyfriend. He’s tapping away at some emails on the ship’s slow wifi no doubt. If you couldn’t tell how tired he was from the slope of his shoulders and the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the giant yawn he barely stifles is a giveaway.

“Maybe I could just—”

The door to your suite swings open, revealing Taehyung looking frightened in a silky peach button down as Yoori pinches Hoseok’s ear.

“You’re coming, right? Please tell me you’re coming.”

“She’s coming,” Jungkook pipes up from the bed. His eyes never leave the screen of the computer as he types away, but he blinks slow and long. Your heart aches a little.

Taehyung breathes out a sigh of relief and links arms with you. You get one last look at your exhausted boyfriend before you’re pulled out of the room entirely.

“Do you think they’ll even bother asking about the Garfield version?” Taehyung’s question shakes you out of your worry.

“Pfft, no.”

On the fourth day of the cruise, Jungkook is awakened earlier than he wants yet again. A large clap of thunder and the bolt of lightning flash from the other side of the window. He crawls quietly around your sleeping form and throws on his glasses. There’s heavy rain too—a sure sign that the pools and sundecks will be closed. Out of habit, he checks his email and sees a message from the ship coordinator.

Esteemed Guests,

As some of you may know, two performers at last night’s dinner show in House of Mouse theatre (Deck 5, room 6B) showed signs of a stomach bug during the performances. For the safety of the rest of the cast, staff, and guests, we will be postponing today’s shows to sanitize the performance rooms and allow the actors time to recover. Room service will still be available.

We know this is a large inconvenience, and to thank you for understanding, please check your trip accounts for a refund for today’s fares. Additionally...

Jungkook can’t help the fist pump and small hoot he lets out. The email gives him the same feeling he gets on those days when he wakes up hours before his alarm only to discover his professor had cancelled class for the day. With a skip in his step, he returns to bed.

When he wakes up hours later, it’s natural. You’re still spooned to him, still soft and warm and pliant in sleep. He runs the tip of his nose along your neck while the fog of sleep lifts. The smell of your soap and skin is warmed with sleep. The sniffing must tickle you, because you stir before arching against him in a morning stretch. He moves so he doesn’t get in the way of your swinging limbs and smiles to himself. It feels like it’s been forever since he last got to hold you like this without the threat of someone whisking you away.

“Morning,” your voice is gravelly from disuse. “What’s going on. What’s the plan?”

“There’s no plan.”

You’re still half asleep, but you have the social awareness to let your voice go high with incredulity. “No plan?”

“No plan. They sent an email.”

“Read it to me?”

He reads the formal apology while you turn in the covers so you can embrace him while you wake up. By the time he’s done reading, you’ve sat yourself up to look at his phone screen as well.

“Sounds good,” you chirp.

“Really? I would have thought you’d be disappointed about not having a packed day. You’ve been zooming around since we got on board.”

“Yeah, but this was supposed to be our time together. It’s only natural that your friends would tag along.”

“So they’re my friends now?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Only when they’re annoying.”

As if on cue, the front door sounds with knocking. Taehyung is the one who calls out about breakfast plans, but you know all three of them are out there. It’s almost a menacing thought.

“Your friends are here,” he groans. His head falls back onto his pillow defeatedly. They’re likely to burst in any second.

“Don’t worry.”

The sound dies down momentarily when Yoori mentions the extra keycard you gave her for emergencies. Hoseok and Taehyung continue to jiggle the door for sport while chatting idly. Meanwhile, you crawl underneath the sheets and re-emerge on Jungkook’s side of the bed. You look him over, as if searching for something. He’s about to ask what you’re looking for when you reach out and pinch both his cheeks suddenly. While he’s mid-yelp, you swoop in and nip at his lips. It’s quick but it was just harsh enough that his face looks blotchy and his mouth starts to swell.

He whines. “Is this because I called them your friends?”

“Just trust me,” you hiss before your hands disappear further down the sheets to tug off your own underwear and throw it towards the door.

A moment later, the door swings open to reveal Yoori, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Their smiles are bright until they take in the scene. Jungkook’s hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed, and his mouth looks like it’s been lightly ravaged. Though you’re mostly covered with the sheets, the underwear that is very clearly not on your body and the way the sheets drape over your head as you lay between his knees tell a very convincing lie.

“I think I just caught that stomach bug.” Yoori says lightly, still smiling. Hoseok peers behind her, looking mildly interested.

“I hate it when I remember they have sex with eachother,” Taehyung buries his face in his friend’s shoulder looking mortified as Yoori slowly closes the door.

“Yeah, it’s kind of like walking in on your aunt and uncle doing it. But, like, 12 times worse.”

Jungkook basks in the new silence for a few moments before it’s replaced with the rustle of sheets.

“What are you doing” he trails off to a whisper as you tug the waistband of his underwear down. Your hands still.

“You don’t want to have boat sex?”

“No, no, I do. I wanna have boat sex.”

He nods intensely and you laugh at how earnest he still is. Jungkook’s cheeks flare up, now doubly red from quiet excitement.

“Guess I should have just proposed this, huh?”

“Yeah,” you hum thoughtfully while moving on your knees to straddle his hips. “I can't see how this would have ruined anyone’s fun.”

“I can think of a couple people’s fun we just ruined.”

“I really meant my fun. Speaking of which,” you settle onto his lap and begin to grind.

He shudders, head falling forward with a sigh. This, he thinks, is the real happiest place on earth.

#changeswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #honestly not sure where this title came from but who cares i guess

245 notes · View notes

whichwaytowonderlandep · 4 years

Text

Evermore | Ch. 1

Pairings: (Yoongi/Reader)

Genre: Romance, Angst

Words: 3,638

Tags: Beauty and The Beast AU, Modern au, eventual smut, drug mentions (sort of)

Series: The Disney Series

Chapter One

Your hand flew out of the sheets, flying across the side of the bed blindly before you finally made contact with the annoying device that had decided to wake you up at the ungodly hour of six in the afternoon. Too early for you.

You let out a loud groan, feeling slightly buzzed as the hangover from last night comes at you in full force. The sounds of the cars running and the people having fun outside of your apartment building filtered into your small and run down apartment.

You don’t remember much of last night, having completely checked out of your body as the night progressed, you continued to work the streets until the ungodly hour of three in the morning.

You get up from your bed, bones cracking as you smack your dry lips together. One of your hands comes up from under the covers as you push your tangled hair out of your face. The warm air coming from the fan in the corner doing little to stop you from sweating like hell while you slept during the day.

You knew your roommate must’ve been here during the day by the leftover weed smell that continued to linger in the air coming from the kitchen. You ignore it, already having been used to the smell before you move to the bathroom.

Your eyes instantly meet your unruly hair as you really take a look at yourself, seeing all the makeup from last night still on your face — smudged and not at all pleasant looking.

You decide to get ready for the night, taking a long cold shower as the knots that had formed under all that stress and that hard as a rock bed wasn’t helping make matters any better.

The heavy metal music and the sound of cars honking filling in the silence as you got ready in the sluttiest clothing you could find in the shared closet you and your roommate, Olivia had. You had promised her to finally join her tonight, after weeks of asking you finally agreed to join her and maybe make some money on the side while you were at it.

A tight, black dress that landed too far from your knee but that still left something to the imagination. Your makeup was done heavy — black eyeshadow and eyeliner, as well as dark red lipstick coloring your lips as you made your way out of your apartment… through your window.

It’s not that your door didn’t work well, it was the people behind said door that you were wanting to avoid. Your rent was due soon and your front door neighbor had this thing about grabbing your ass every time he saw you. So, climbing out of a three story apartment window and into your fire escape seemed like the safer choice of the two at the moment.

You make your way down the street, heels clicking loudly as your hips sway side to side. The dirty streets of the city were filled with late night party goers, drug addicts looking to score and ladies of the night looking to make a quick buck. Your smile flirts with the man you pass, throwing small waves at the ones who almost break their neck to get a glimpse of your ass. You break out in a giggle as one of them trips over his friends.

Your hair bounces on your shoulders as you quickly make it down the street, catching sight of your friend’s bright purple hair. “Oli!” You shout her name as you stand a few meters away from her, waving your arms around as you try to get her attention from the other side of the street.

Olivia Alvarez was an old friend from the days before you became a college drop out — her following you right along. What mostly attracted you to her was her loud as fuck personality and her will to give less fucks in any situation. “I’ll talk to you later baby, my girl is here.” She pats the guy on the ass, startling him slightly before moving to wrap her hands around you as you ran towards her.

“I haven’t seen you since yesterday!” You exclaim, hugging her tightly. You let go of her as you wrap a hand around her shoulders. “Where have you been, buddy?”

“Oh you know…” Oli wiggles her eyebrows, making an action zip her lips and throwing the key away. “A lady never reveals her conquests.” She whips her hair around as she wraps her arm around your waist. Her height making it possible for her to lay her head on your shoulder with no problems — leading the both of you to stand at the corner of the street.

“Manny was looking for you again last night” you say, watching her smile quickly disappear from her lips. “Told him you left the country… again.”

“Yeah, well next time you see him, tell him that I died.” Oli ‘s heavy Argentinian accent coming out as memories of him come to mind. “And that my body was cremated, that you scatter my ashes into the ocean so that I may find my way back home and blah blah blah”

You chuckle at her dramatic ways, finally separating from her as the catcalling around the two of you becomes even more noticeable. “You’ll be fine, just avoid him for a couple of more days and he’ll get bored… eventually.”

“So what are we doing tonight?” You change the subject quickly, trying to keep the mood a happier one.

“We are going to hit a couple of clubs, meet some new friends and have the best fucking time if our lives” Oli counts each one of them on her fingers, reaching into her jacket’s pocket and pulling a small plastic bag of different colored pills.

Your smile only wavers slightly as she pulls two of them out, offering one of them to you before shoving the other one into her mouth.

You eye the one in your hand, not sure how taking random drugs is going to get you through the night without making a plethora of horrible decisions. It would sure as hell make it a whole lot easier. “Come on (Y/N)” Oli says in a mocking manner, “Live a little!”

You smile, a slight grimace on your lips before taking the pill into your mouth.

Right, (Y/N)... it’s time to live a little. — you think to yourself, already regretting what was going to happen tonight.

Min Yoongi couldn’t be even more than happy to get the hell out of that party. If it could even be called a party. His fingers twirl around the emerald ring on his left hand. His face showing no emotion as he took another long sip of his watered down tequila — he had no plans on getting drunk tonight, but as the night went on he was going to quickly change his mind. His black hair crazily moving to the California breeze as he leans on the glass railing overlooking the bright city lights.

All he wanted to do was to go back to his hotel room and take a nice long and well deserved nap. But no, he had to stay here in the middle of a city where he knew absolutely nobody. Where he was only asked by his company to appear for appearances sake.

“Hey grumpy!” A loud voice startles him as a taller body crashes into his. Hoseok’s blinding smile moves to the corner of his eyes, a hard pat on his back. “What the hell are you doing out here when the girls are all inside?”

He would have almost forgotten about Hoseok’s presence if it wasn’t for the way he would constantly come outside and check up on him every couple of minutes.

“You’re missing out, man!” Hoseok continues as Yoongi gives him an uninterested glare before moving his gaze back to the city. “Why don’t you just come back inside, I might even have the right girl for you.” THe younger man chuckles.

“Not interested” Yoongi grumbles, already knowing where this was going. He had seen it all before, the parties, the glamour, the celebrities — hell, he has lived in the spotlight most of his life and there was nothing he had grown to hate more. He drinks what was left in his glass, hoping that the younger male would finally take the hint. Unfortunately, that was still not the case.

“Oh stop being such a grump! I know you used to like to party!” Hoseok whines as he leans over the railing, trying to get Yoongi to meet his eyes. “I want my best bro back”

“You know, I’m doing just fine with this bottle for myself” Yoongi points to the bottle sitting on the ground beside him. “I was also having a great ass time, so why not let me continue doing that?” With a grim smile, Yoongi looks back at the scenery in front of him.

Hoseok gives him one last smile before wrapping his arm around the giggling girl beside him. He had always known Yoongi to be the biggest grump he had ever met — nothing mean that he said was ever taken to heart. Hoseok, even after everything they’ve been through, would still consider him one of his best friends.

Hoseok lets out a deep sigh as he realizes the older man isn’t really in the mood to party so he reluctantly takes his keys out of his jacket, placing them on the flat railing before taking his leave.”Don’t scratch it” Hoseok yells back before disappearing from the patio and into the lively atmosphere.

Yoongi takes one look at them, his tongue pushing against his cheek as he places the bottle on the metal railing with a thunk, grabbing onto the keys before he makes his way down and through the backyard — possibly avoiding every person he possibly could.

His mind was slightly buzzed from the alcohol, nose red from the cold and his body feeling only slightly heavy, and yet, nothing was stopping him from climbing into the front seat of Hoseok’s car and pulling off into the dark road.

You’re extremely sweaty, a little bit hot and definitely feeling like you might pass out any second. At the same time... you felt euphoric, high on life and you would admit a little bit horny. Olivia and you had found yourself gaining free entry to one of the nearby clubs, stepping onto the dance floor as soon as the two of you arrived. You had some idea of what Oli might have given you, making a note to ask her tomorrow if she had any more.

The strobing lights made you dizzy and the vibrations coming from the surrounding speakers were beginning to give you a heavy migraine. You stop dancing as you feel someone pull at your hand, looking back with your fuzzy vision you see Olivia’s wild hair in your present view. You could hear her saying something, although it sounded like nothing but gibberish to you.

You don’t know what she said, but your hazy mind was able to put two and two together as you saw her smirk at you before turning around and grabbing onto some random guy’s arm. She has found a client for tonight and from here on out you were flying solo.

You’re no longer paying attention to her as you see her making her way out of the club, instead your eyes start scanning the rest of the barely lit club. As a high-end escort, Olivia knew the clubs where all the rich, married and very lonely trophy husbands and CEOs liked to hang out and relax. It was her hunting ground.

The men in her life didn’t last very long but from the moment they met her, they could only assume they were done for. Once she had her claws on him she wouldn’t let them go until she got bored or she got a large sum of money from them. Olivia gets bored very easily.

You hadn’t been okay with the idea when she had first suggested you joined her while she worked, knowing rent was due next week and you barely had enough food to last you the next few days. So, you took her up on her offer. To let her teach you her ways of manipulation.

You lick at your dry lips, feeling lost and alone as you no longer have someone familiar around you. You push your hair back as you step off to the side, your body starting to feel sore as you move towards the crowded bar. You try to find an empty spot, looking as the poor bartender gets pulled in all directions — the idea that you would possibly get a drunk any time soon is long gone as you unwrap your jacket from your waist and head towards the exit.

The fresh air hits you with full force as your body cools down. You could still hear the loud music thumping from inside the club as you move through the empty alleyway. Your mind is still a little fuzzy as you put on your jacket, getting the last of your cigarettes from the inside of your jacket.

You stumble out of the alleyway, fighting to make your lighter work as the wind starts to pick up as you step onto the street. You groan out loud, shaking the lighter in your hands as if that would make it magically work. “Stupid thing better work, I just bought it last week!” ‘

You weren’t really paying attention as you kept on walking, the migraine you had back at the club making its presence known. You were not looking at your surroundings, or at the empty and wet street as your boots slap against the puddles and you were certainly not aware of the very bright lights coming down the road at a very alarming speed.

Yoongi looks up at the road, the bright red jacket shining as the headlights of the car he was driving hit you. His foot slams down on the brakes, his heart beating a mile a minute before the care fortunately stops only inches from your body. He did not need a criminal record.

Your startled eyes meet his as you drop your lighter to the cold, wet asphalt with a clink. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t almost pee your pants. After the initial shock wears off, you feel relieved and then, you feel only anger. It could be the drugs talking or it could be the alcohol that made you act way out of character.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You almost ran me over!” You angrily yelled as you slam your hands against the hood of the very expensive-looking car. Hair falling all over your face as you try to take through the tinted windows, trying to get a look at the culprit’s face. You stumble around, your boots not helping out the matter.

You didn’t have to wait long before the man stepped out of the vehicle, anger apparent on his face as he made his way to the front of the car. “You didn’t scratch it, did you?” He ignores you as his eyes scan the hood, looking for any kind of scratches. “Are you serious right now? You could’ve killed me and you’re worried about your fucking car?!”

He lets out a sigh of relief as he makes his motives there are no scratches on the car. “Key word, almost.” he mumbles, not sparing you a glance as he gets back in his car.

“Uh, no you dipshit. I could have died.” You continue on, following him to his window —smacking your hands on it as you try to get his attention again. It seems as if you succeeded as he rolls the window down all the way.

“Please don’t touch the window, I don’t want it to get filthy” The man says as he looks at you up and down with nothing but a bored expression plastered on his face.

“Way to be rude, asshole” You mumble, leaning against the car. Your head leaning towards the window as you try to maintain your balance— your stomach starts to feel kind of funny, but the feeling of anger is still surpassing anything else that you could possibly be feeling.

“I could be splattered in front of your car and you only car if your precious car doesn’t have a scratch on it.” You continue mumble, “It’s exactly how people like you are ruining our country!” There it is again, that funny feeling in your stomach.

“You mean drug-addicted prostitutes like you aren’t?” Yoongi finally looks your way, an eyebrow raises as he gives you a skeptical look. He knew he was judging you without even knowing you but he was stressed enough as it is and you were the closest thing he could take his frustrations on you. Some stranger he might never get to see again.

He can tell by the way your eyes widen and your mouth opens in a little gasp that he had offended you, he could feel guilt bubbling up in his chest as he realizes that he offended you deeply. He doesn’t let you see he feels that way as his face and demeanor becomes cold again— pushing the button to close his window, cutting your words as you continue cursing him out.

You continue to tap on the window as you hear the sound of a revving engine. The rude motherfucker thinks he can get away with anything just because he has money. The migraine and the feeling you had in your stomach is something that you can no longer keep pushing down and as you throw up the little food you had managed to eat that day onto the side of his very slick and very clean car you knew that you had fucked up. You smirk as he parks the car once more, wiping at your lips. You take a step back as you watch him angrily get out of the car with eyebrows furrowed and disgust clearly showing on his face.

You don’t get to live in the moment for long as your vision becomes blurry and your eyes catch only the glimpse of the headlights as your world becomes dark and you hit the ground with a loud thud.

Yoongi instantly turns around, his eyes searching for your body before he finds you passed out in the middle of the road. “For fuck’s sake…” He mumbles angrily to himself. For once, he was glad that he got lost on a road with little to no traffic at all. He takes one more look at the vomit on the ground, feeling queasy at the sight of it. He skips over it, careful to not get it on his very expensive shoes as he squats down next to your body.

“Hey, stupid...Wake up.” Yoongi says as he nudges your shoulder, hearing soft snores coming from under a mountain of hair. He pushes you fully on your back, your hair falling back onto the wet concrete as he sees the peaceful look on your face -- along with some of the vomit still present on your chin. “Why does shit like this always happen to me?” Yoongi has an inquisitive look on his face as he looks around his surroundings, the cold air making his breath visible in front of him as he notices no one around the surrounding area. He could easily leave you right where you were, get in his car and just get the hell out of there. Another part of him is telling him to at least move you to the sidewalk, to the ‘nice’ and ‘comfortable looking garbage so that you at least don’t get used as a speed bump.

And yet, something in his consciousness tells him that he was human not too long ago and while you were rude to him… he couldn’t just leave you to rot in the middle of nowhere. He had no idea where you had appeared from and as he gently patted the pockets of your jacket he could tell you didn’t have a cellphone or anything he could call your loved ones with. He could always call the police, but he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to explain the scene in front of him or how long they would take to actually get there.

“Mom…” He hears you mumble in your deep sleep.

“Hey..Wake up. You can’t stay here…” Yoongi tries one more time and as you offer no more words, he finally makes up his mind. He unbuttons his silk jacket, moving to place it on your legs before he moves his arms beneath your knees and your shoulders. “Damn, could you be any heavier?” He complains, adjusting you as best he could in your arms before moving back towards his vehicle. He struggles with opening the back door as he tries to not drop you, he ends up using his leg as he hooks his foot onto the handle and struggles to open it. Succeeding after a few minutes, finally placing you into the back seat. He steps away, making sure all of your limbs were inside the car before he slams the door— hoping that it would wake you up and you could go on your merry way, but as he watches your unmoving body still sleeping in his back seat he knows that it was a futile attempt.

“Fucking…..” He grumbles in annoyance as he skips over the vomit on the asphalt, getting into his car and driving off.

Masterlist>>

72 notes · View notes

nomunamuinmybrain · 4 years

Text

Hello friends! I hope you are having a wonderful day🌼

Summary: Sometimes our thoughts get the best of us. Sometimes depression gets the best of all of us. Too oblivious to realise that we are surrounded with love. This is a story about learning to receive love, learning that you deserve love. A fun group of friends and their lives as they gradually change and grow. Sometimes bitter other times sweet much like chocolate such is life.FLUFF WITH A SPRINKLE (or so) of smut.Slow pace.

WORDS: 1183

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4/

“Why is this so hard for you to believe? Do you have someone else? Do you not like me?” he nuzzles across my jawline, down to the sensitive part of my neck sending shivers throughout my body.

He comes up to look at me, eyes pleading. “Please. Say something. Say anything.” I made an effort to speak. “Um, it’s...I don’t really catch on these things easily, I haven’t got much experience on the matter... I am sorry- “as I was making my way around a response he drew me in for a hug, burying his nose in my hair. “Y/N, what are you apologising for? All I need to know is if we are on the same page. I understand that I might have been a bit too forward today but if you want this to happen, we can slow our pace. All I want is to be with you.” Bobbing my head in agreement, I explained that I had to process things. I needed time by myself to think and gathered my stuff to leave. He escorted me to the door, gave my hand a little squeeze and reminded me to text him when I got home.

Walking with my headphones in, allowed the music to clear my thoughts and before you know it I was home. That’s one of the most effective ways to really compose myself for the time being. Hoseok yanked the door open before I even had the keys out my bag. Judging from the noise coming from the living room I assumed Jung Kook and Andrea are here as well.

“She’s back!” he yelled with utmost excitement, dragging me in to meet the rest of the group. “You look...How shall I put it? Lost?”

My ever so caring friends began bombarding me with questions yearning to find out the events of the past two hours. I sat my ass on the couch, wedged between Andrea and Taehyung. “Where do I even begin?” I swear Jung Kook’s eyes just grew three times bigger, “Out with it already!”

“Okay! Jesus. He. He said he has been trying to get my attention for the past two months and that he has a crush on me.” I finally muster to say with a tiny voice. Looking around, everyone’s reaction was jaw to the floor. Tae and Andrea swallowed me up in a hug so tight I went numb for a minute or two. “I knew it”, Tae whispered. With a chuckle I realised that tears have already raced down my face. I hate being so emotional. I hate crying for stupid things. But then again this was no stupid thing. He confessed his feelings for me. I should be ecstatic, why was I wallowing. In my head I replayed the little moment he took my hand in his as I made my way out. I have to let him know I got home. The rest of the group remained silent waiting for me to further explain, give them a sliver of my thoughts on the situation.

Hoseok knowing me too well took the liberty to ask. “How do you feel about all this? I know that in your pretty little you are currently freaking out but don’t let fear drive you away from what could be a beautiful experience.”

“Hobi is right “Andrea jumps in, “Letting your fears dominate you will only hold you back. That doesn’t mean you should do anything you are uncomfortable with. I had to string JK along for 5 months to make sure he was serious about this. My personal view is, you should give him a chance. Yoongi and I are close, we talk a lot, and I know for a fact that Namjoon is one of the best guys out there. If not, the best” at that moment all three of the guys in the room turned to glare at her and I do the same.

“Wait. You know him?”

“I know Yoongi who happens to be his partner. Who I might had to pressure into convincing Namjoon to hire you?”

Shaking my head in disbelief and even more confused than before, “Wait, what?”

Andrea sighs, nibbling her bottom lip in guilt, “Okay so Jimin, Yoongi and I met up like four months ago. We got to talking about how everyone was, what they were doing. Yoongi mentioned his partner, Namjoon, being sick of single life and wanting to find someone kinda serious. I didn’t think of this first. It was Jimin. He was all like, this will be good for both of them, we are only going to introduce them to each other and see where it goes from there.”

“So, the three of you set us up?”

“Well, not exactly. Listen. You and Namjoon are both so prejudiced when it comes to meeting people like that. He has major trust issues, hasn’t been in a relationship cause he’s afraid he’ll hurt the other person. Not even himself. We thought we’d play cupid and see how it goes and voila. He has caught feelings.”

Mouth agape, not having anything to say, I just sit there trying to wrap my head around everything. Is that why Jimin was spamming me from his phone? I don’t know how I feel about this, honestly. I’m definitely not mad at anyone’s good intentions. That’s for sure.

Tae jumps in to hug Andrea, “I love you even more for doing this for our little baby bear.” Jung Kook who has been quiet eating all this time turned around squinting his eyes at Tae half-jokingly. “Get off my wife TaeTae before I smack your ass.”

“Okay, damn JK. Learn to share.”

“When it comes to her and food, I never share. Anyway, babe we have to get going. I assume we’ll see all of you tomorrow at ours. Y/N don’t rush it and don’t stress it. Do as you think right. I’ll give my fiancé a good spanking for meddling in other people’s business.” Andrea glared at him laughing at the same time.

“Okay mister time to get going. Goodnight guys. Y/N no hard feelings, right?”

“None.” I answer as I pulled her in for a tight hug. I close the door and turn around to find Hobi pouting at me.

“You didn’t tell us what your reaction was. You barely gave any details.”

“I didn’t say much. That’s the problem.”

“You were too caught up in your head?”

I simply nodded.

“I don’t mean to push you but he does deserve a clear answer. He is a good guy. I’ve heard from Jimin many times.”

“I think I’m going to call him.”

“If you want to, do it.”

“I think I like him.” I said stumbling around words.

“I know.”

Once in my room I grab my phone to make the call. My fingers fiddle with my case, nervously, in a moment of hesitation. I take a deep breath when upon hearing the first toot. By the second one he answers and suddenly there’s a warmth spreading through my chest. He was actually expecting my call.

#bts #Btswriters #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #bts jungkook #bts jhope #bts army #bts yoongi #bts jimin #fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts mention

14 notes · View notes

kittae · 5 years

Text

The Talk

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1806

A/N: This part is somewhat dialogue heavy! Also my first attempt at a drabble series, if this is a success i might do this more in the future!

« previous — next »

“Wait, one more time. You want me to what?”

Yoongi looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown, what with the way he’s pinching the bridge of his nose so hard his nails leave indents.

“Don’t make me repeat myself three times, Taehyung, you heard me.”

“I’m sorry but hearing and understanding are two entirely different things.”

“It is to you, yes.”

“So let me get this straight,” he murmurs slowly, a pensive look on his face as he paces back and forth through his manager’s living room, “You want me to find a new specialty…”

“Mhmm.” Yoongi nods, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he deeply hopes with all his heart that his client’s thought-process would finally go in the direction of his own.

“...Which is BDSM. You want me to go from what I do now, to BDSM...”

Yoongi wants to cry. Or scream. Or quit. All of the above.

“For the last time, it’s not BDSM. It’s just a little degradation for God’s sake!” He grates through gritted teeth, “Why are you blowing this out of proportion?!”

“I’m not!” The younger man pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a wronged child. “It’s filthy! I’m not doing that shit, I don’t want to!”

‘It doesn’t matter what you want, you little shit! You’re supposed to be a professional!’... Is what Yoongi would really, really like to say right now, but he doesn’t. He knows Taehyung, and this approach would only cement his stubbornness.

“Listen...TaeTae,” He starts after taking a deep breath, his voice soft and smooth in an effort to suppress the growing frustration churning in his chest, “You’re an extremely talented actor and you have so much going for you. All I’m saying is that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to expand your areas of expertise, right? Artistic erotica is great, I’m not saying that it’s not but the numbers are clearly stating that it’s not the most popular– are you even listening to me?!”

“Is this whiskey or perfume?” Taehyung muses as he picks up a fancy bottle from Yoongi’s shelf and opens the stopple to sniff it. He pulls a face. “It’s whiskey.”

Yoongi groans and drags a hand across his face in pure desperation. “Did you not get anything of what I was just trying to tell you?”

“Vas-t-en.” Taehyung says blankly, unimpressed with the kind of face his manager sports.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s French for ‘go away’.” He helpfully states.

“I do not get paid enough for this shit,” Yoongi hisses vehemently, poking a finger in his actor’s well-defined pecs to define every word, “I’m 72 different flavors of done with you.”

Taehyung just starts laughing at his manager’s highly critical stress levels and almost tackles him in a strong back hug, playfully shaking the older, but smaller man, “Aw, c’mon, hyung! Just relax, we’ll be fine! Loosen up a little– Hey, you wanna go to that new karaoke place?! I heard you can customize your hamburgers there!”

“Wow, incredible,” Yoongi stares out in front of him, looking dead inside as he hangs limp in Tae’s arms in acceptance of being his ragdoll, “We could both lose our jobs tomorrow but it’s fine because we can customize our hamburgers at Star Song Karaoke.”

Taehyung finally puts his friend out of his misery by releasing him and putting him back down. “Don’t be overdramatic, why wouldn’t we have jobs tomorrow? Women love artistic porn! It’s pretty, there’s hot guys, the lighting is nice and flattering for both and it focuses on the woman’s pleasure instead of the guy’s. There’s enough of that tasteless shit out there already, why do I have to do it?”

Yoongi’s started massaging his temples to reduce the tension before his head will literally burst.

“Because it’s boring, Taehyung. Women don’t like that purely soft stuff anymore. They like to experiment and broaden their sexual interests and kinks. There’s been a huge increase of clicks on degradation videos by female users on online platforms and I suppose they watch it because they like it. So all I’m asking of you is to try and take this opportunity and go with the flow because this is a fickle business.”

There’s a pause where Taehyung looks like he finally gets the gravity of the situation and is about to say something that would take the weight off of Yoongi’s shoulders, but he knows better than to get his hopes up.

”With all due respect, I’m going to ignore everything you just sai–”

“Say cum dumpster.” Yoongi interrupts.

The younger staggers. “What?”

“Cum dumpster. Say it.”

“No! Why?!”

“You’re hopeless.” Yoongi concludes and thereby also that they’re fucked in the most ironic way of saying so. “Not every woman enjoys your kind of flower power glitter sunshine porn, Taehyung.”

“The women i shoot with enjoy it very much, though.” A cocky grin spreads across Taehyung’s handsome face and Yoongi decides to try one last time.

“What about the women who like to be called sluts and whores in bed but have to resort to bad porn with unattractive and talentless actors to get their share of sexual stimulation? Do you know the value your face holds? The mainstream porn needs that face, Taehyung. There are women out there that need to hear they’re a dirty slut in that deep ass voice of yours. Are you going to deny them that?”

“Woah, hyung! That’s impressive. Did you write this speech in advance?”

“Fine. Whatever, I give up. Do what you want, I don’t care.” Yoongi is so annoyed he starts talking in pout, pursed lips making him sound like an angry toddler. Exhausted to the core, he flops down on the couch with a deep sigh, his arms crossed in front of him as he resorts to brooding in silence.

Taehyung’s smug grin instantly transforms into a rectangular one upon hearing his manager speak like that. He’s entirely incapable of taking him seriously when he’s being like this.

Yoongi feels the weight of Taehyung letting himself fall into the cushions next to him, but chooses to ignore it. He’s still mad he won’t even give it a chance, much less hear him out for real.

Something nudges his arm.

“No.” Is his resolute response.

“Come oooon… You know you want to.” Taehyung sings as his long fingers tickle Yoongi’s.

“I said no.”

But Taehyung’s persistent. “The best way to settle an argument is…?”

“I’m not doing it, go away. Vallan or whatever the fuck it was you said earlier in French.”

“It’s vas-t-en, and I’m not leaving before you hold my hand.”

“You’re an annoying little shit, you know that?” Yoongi grumbles.

“And you’re a grumpy old man, now hold my hand grandpa.”

Yoongi manages to resist for thirty more seconds before he caves and lets Taehyung peel his hand from underneath the folding of his arms. It feels nice; Taehyung’s hands are always big and warm. He instantly feels his blood pressure drop.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” Taehyung beams as he intertwines their fingers tightly, making Yoongi grumble something unintelligible that either sounds like ‘I guess so.’ or ‘Get lost.’ Whichever it may be, he doesn’t make an effort to release himself from Taehyung’s grip, so it’s a win.

“You’re exhausting.” Yoongi mutters but subtly tightens his hold around Tae’s hand. It’s just a thing they do, he doesn’t remember when or why. It just helps to diffuse the tension, somehow. Makes them understand each other better.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Taehyung chuckles, “I should hear you out.”

“You can’t even take me seriously for one minute.”

“I’ll try to now.”

Yoongi hesitates, still irritated about how the younger treated him. He knows this might be his only chance to convince him, however. “Promise me you’ll listen to me. I’ll seriously quit if you don’t.”

“I promise,” Taehyung smiles, giving Yoongi’s hand a little reassuring squeeze.

He sighs, “Alright. Like I said those previous twenty times; artistic erotica is great, it’s beautiful, you’re the best in that category and that’s all dandy. But you have to realize that we’re dealing with a niche category here, not to mention that the production costs are expensive as fuck, which is why we can’t afford to put this on the free online market.”

Yoongi dares to take a peek at his actor’s face, which is often telling of what’s going on in his mind. His full brows are slightly furrowed, lips stretched in a serious line, eyes focused on him; his business face. Good.

“You’re not acting right now, right?” The manager asks for good measure.

“No, not right now.”

“Okay. Are you following?”

“Artistic porn is niche, production costs are expensive, no free online platforms possible. Got it.” Tae shoots him finger guns.

Yoongi’s brows shoot up slightly, coloring himself impressed. He usually can’t hold the guy’s attention for more than twenty seconds. “Uh, great. So what I’m saying is, it wouldn’t hurt to try out some new things we can experiment with to put your name on the mainstream porn market as well. Your networth right now is laughable and our only income comes from the sale of your films and nobody buys hard copies anymore these days.”

“That’s barely enough to cover the production costs anymore. We have to increase your online presence and we have to do it fast before some rookie with a good face and a 7 inch dick takes your place.”

“Mine is 7,5 inches.” Taehyung remarks as if that makes all the difference in the world.

“I- I know, Tae, and that’s uh, very good,” Yoongi awkwardly slips his hand out of Taehyung’s, “You’re a professional with experience, talent and a face and body most people would commit murder for but nobody knows you. Aside from, like, art students and middle-aged women who are still willing to pay fifty bucks for an erotic movie.”

Taehyung nods slowly and it looks like he finally understands the words that come out of Yoongi’s mouth. He looks uneasy, distressed even. “So...When those people stop buying my films...”

“We’re bankrupt.” Yoongi shrugs, a tight-lipped smile on his face as he watches realisation dawn on Tae’s.

A good few seconds of silence ensue before Taehyung speaks again. “And we’re going to be okay if I...If I do de-degradation?”

Yoongi almost starts to feel sorry for him. “Listen, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I know you feel safe and confident doing what you do now and that degradation is something else entirely. More like the opposite,” He chuckles sheepishly, “It’ll be completely out of your comfort zone, but we can start with something easier first.”

“something easier?” Taehyung’s interest is piqued.

“I’ve scheduled a shoot for tomorrow,” Yoongi grins mischievously, “I want you to meet someone.”

Heliotrope masterlist

#taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #min yoongi #bts fanfic #btswriters #bts scenarios #bts #taehyung scenarios #bts drabble #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung drabble #kim taehyung fanfic #bts fanfiction

601 notes · View notes

bluekyun · 5 years

Text

Roomie Code

‘The Assortment’ Collab Masterlist

Genre: fluff, smut and humour — roommates!au

Word Count: 17.044

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Jungkook is an awkward human who doesn't know how to act around women, but at least he’s a connoisseur of all things vanilla. Meanwhile the reader forgets how to have sex, but it’s okay, Jungkook’s got it covered.

Summary: When you first decided to move into a house full of guys, you figured it wouldn’t nearly be as bad as people made it out to be. Little did you know, living between your best friend, your crush and a mysterious recluse would only turn into disaster upon finding yourself caught in the middle of a brutal love triangle.

Author’s Note: It’s not really a full triangle, maybe a very nicely shaped ‘V’, but we're just gonna go with it. Either way, still tragic. Enjoy!

When it comes to living with in the same house as three other people, there has to be rules. Rules, that no matter how minor or insignificant, shall not be broken. And considering you are rooming with three men, none of which happen to be ideal housemates, these rules must be set in stone and obeyed by all. The rules are as follows:

Keep your spaces clean and do your part to maintain the integrity of the household.

DO NOT go into each other’s personal spaces without permission. You will get caught.

If you’re going to have sex in the house, keep quiet. No one wants to hear that shit.

Whatever happens in this house, stays in this house.

And finally, the most important rule...

No relationships between roommates.

Coming up with these rules was inherently simple – everyone agreed and no one protested. It was a combination of everyone’s input. The last one, which definitely received a lot of odd looks, was more directed at you in particular. To which Yoongi was the only one who laughed, knowing well of your feelings for a certain one of the housemates. But regardless, it ended up on the board. You can’t say for certain if every person in this house is straight, as it is really none of your business anyway, but clearly they had felt the need to cover all their bases. Either that, or they somehow thought it a good idea to bring attention to your unfortunate relationship-less lifestyle for whoever else happened to walk through the door and see the large chalkboard in the entryway. And you wouldn’t be surprised considering you are a surrounded by a bunch of imbeciles who love to rub it in your face that you are essentially the loner of the group.

Over the past year of living together, one thing you can appreciate is that none of these rules have been severely broken. Although, according to Yoongi, there is one person in particular who just doesn’t know proper volume control.

“If I have to listen to another girl’s scream come out of Jimin’s room at 3 am, I might actually kill him.” Of all the people in the house, Yoongi is the only one to have ever heard anything of the sort. Which, you suppose, doesn’t surprise you considering he is a really light sleeper. Even after investigating on several occasions, scouring the house for signs of another girl, even any hints of perfume or strands of hair that weren’t blatantly yours, there has never been any evidence. Jimin, very adamantly, always denies this as well.

“I didn’t even have anyone over last night! Why do you always think it’s me, what about Jungkook? What if it was Y/N jacking off?” Slapping his arm, you’re offended at his insinuation. As if you would ever make that kind of scene while masturbating with them still in the house. What are you, a heathen?

“Actually, she was in my bed so I know it couldn’t have been her. Jungkook’s room is on the other side of the house. So it could have only been you.” Sitting beside Yoongi on the couch, you aid in glaring Jimin down. Clearly at a loss for words, he throws his hands up in defeat.

“You know whenever I bring someone over, why would I only hide it sometimes. But fine, don’t believe me. What are you gonna do, kick me out?” Rolling your eyes, you lean back against the cushion, waiting for Yoongi to deliver the final blow.

“No. But you can make up for it by being on bathroom duty for the rest of the month.” As much as you would have liked to maintain your stoic demeanor, you can’t help but smile at the way Jimin drops his jaw. When it comes to Yoongi, there is no arguing, everyone does as he says. He’s the one who paid the deposit on the house after all.

“Fuck both of you. At least I get laid, unlike someone.” Letting your arms drop to your side, your mind immediately goes blank. It’s a known fact, at least among everyone in this house, that there is only one person who hasn’t had sex in an eternity. And that one person is you.

“Jimin what the fuck!” Standing up, Yoongi grabs Jimin by the collar of his shirt. Yoongi may be a generally non-confrontational person, but when it comes to protecting his best friend, he shows no mercy.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I was mad-” Without another word, you squeeze past them and head straight to your room. It’s not that what he said was wrong, it is, of course, the bitter truth. But hearing those words come out of the mouth of the person you have feelings for… that hurts. As if his pure existence doesn’t hurt to begin with.

Grabbing the stack from the cabinets, you line the plates expertly around the table. From your periphery, you notice Jimin peaking from around the corner, ducking his head every time you just so happen to catch him in the act. On other nights, you might have just forced him from hiding, telling him to do his part and at least get everyone’s drinks. But today you just don’t seem to have the energy. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t exactly over his little stunt earlier.

Returning to your duties, you pull out a few glasses, filling two of them with water for both Jimin and yourself. The remaining glass gets filled with banana milk, a delicacy you didn’t even know existed until you had moved into this household. You set it at the side closest to the bedrooms, the recipient’s favorite spot. And last but not least, you pull out the beer bottle for none other than Yoongi, who even on weekdays, can’t seem to get through the night without at least a little alcohol in his system. If only you could convince him to spend as much money on you as he does his unhealthy habits, you might just be living the ultimate dream.

With your back turned and facing the stove, you hear Jimin’s small footsteps along the linoleum floor, the sound of the chair as he quietly sets himself upon it. You can’t tell if he’s trying to be funny or trying to avoid your temper, but whatever he’s doing, you appreciate it. The longer he’s out of your hair, the better.

Taking as few trips as possible, you bring over the plates of various veggies and kimchi fried rice, making sure to leave room for the main dish of the night.

“Is dinner almost ready?” The tinge of annoyance hidden in Yoongi’s tone is only expected from him at this point. His patience often wears thin once the sun sets and you aren’t one to get on his bad side. He, like Jimin, receives minimal response from you, a sign to him that tonight will likely be over before it can begin. So long as he cooperates of course.

Grabbing the final platter, full of various cuts of steak, you set it in the center of the table. The way the two men sitting across from each other eye the delicacies only makes your stomach turn over itself. If it’s not women then it’s meat, there is no in between.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, sliding into your seat. Glancing between them, you realize neither seem to have heard a word. Their only focus is filling their plates, the thought of having a 'family' dinner now entirely out of their minds.

Rolling your eyes, you take small sips of water, quelling the nausea the seems to plague your very being. The atmosphere surrounding the table feels awkward and stiff as if the past year of living together never happened. As if you were surrounded by people who didn't know each other.

Just when you thought it might be a lovely and uncomfortable evening with just the three of you, Jungkook slips in through the front door, immediately setting down his bag. Glancing up, he notices the array of food quietly on table, but as you expected, he doesn't say a word. He doesn't even bother to mention the fact that he's home. He acts as though he doesn't even exist.

"How was your day?" Considering the two idiots beside you aren't likely to join in the conversation, you decide to focus your sights on the one person in this household who at least has some sense of decency.

"Ah... it was good." Filling his plate with veggies and several pieces of steak, he only glances at you once before taking his seat. As you expected, he ends the conversation short.

"How's the project you're working on? You seemed excited about it yesterday." The subtle blush that tinges his cheeks surprises you, his shy demeanor quickly returning.

"Oh. Yeah, it's going well so far. I mean I just started it... but I'm hoping it will go well. I just don't know yet." Despite having lived with this boy for many months, you can adamantly say there isn't a whole lot you know about the kid. Seldom ever do you see him, especially on weekends as he is either out all day or trapped in his room. But one of the few things he has mentioned to you, much of which was actually told to by Yoongi, is that he is a very passionate graphic designer. Just from the one piece you saw, a mock billboard he used to advertise feminine products (the only time he will ever explicitly look at a tampon, you quickly found out), you knew he was talented. Exceptionally talented. His knack for unique design and color was something you had never seen before. So when he mentioned his latest project, you were almost as excited as he was. Besides, the only passion you ever see from him is when he’s talking about his work.

"I'm sure it'll be great," you reassure him, "I have faith in you." Which, to be fair, isn't a lie. You may not be very knowledgeable about his field, but you do know that he has this job for a reason. And from the way his smile quickly spreads across his face, he knows it well.

"Like she said, it'll be great. Once you're done, we can throw a party for you and celebrate your hard work, how does that sound??" Rolling your eyes, you use your fork to chase around one of the eggplants on your plate. Of course Jimin would suggest a party and of course he would do so under the guise of wanting to celebrate Jungkook's achievements.

"I don't know..." Jungkook ponders, shoving a piece of ribeye into his mouth.

"That's not happening, not more parties." Yoongi, the ultimate decision maker, finally steps into the conversation. He, as well as you, has seen the disastrous parties that Jimin has attended in the past, once even letting him throw one at the house. And to this day, you all agreed to never let it happen again, at least not after you all needed to pitch in for recarpeting the entire living room. The jungle juice was never going to make it out of that white. Never in a million years.

"It'll be a small one I promise." Not even daring to look at you, Jimin focuses his sights on Yoongi. He had two options and yet he went with the one he would automatically lose to. But you suppose you weren't much of a better option. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

Luckily for you, you and Yoongi shared the same thoughts, knowing full well that this thought of a party needed to be shut down immediately. At least if you were going to celebrate, it was going to be under the guise of a small get together. The words "party" and "Jimin" do not need to be in the same sentence.

"We'll do a little something for you to celebrate with just us. No need to invite anyone else when we're your favorite people." Just at your words alone, Yoongi chokes on his food, apparently the sight of your wink only aiding in his suffering.

"Never do that again." He warns, after taking a sip of his beer. What surprises you, though, is when Jungkook erupts into a fit a laughter, a side of him you rarely ever get to see, at least not in this household. The way he clutches his stomach as he scrunches his nose suddenly fills your heart with joy, this precious side of him being too much to handle.

"What's so funny?" Looking between Yoongi and Jungkook, Jimin tries to figure where this sudden outburst came from. But from what you can tell, Jungkook has only lost himself to exhaustion.

"Yes you're my favorite people." Wiping away a tear, he returns his attention to his food, quietly eating while the rest of the table stares in awe. You are entirely convinced no one will ever be able to understand him, at least not with his sudden mood swings and odd changes in behavior. But you suppose you'd rather have this than anything else. At least it's better than having a second Jimin around.

After a while of silent eating, the family dinner having entirely burst into flames, you allow the rest to leave the table. You’ve taken control of the kitchen for the night, and the last thing you need is for them to stick around any longer than necessary.

Once you finish cleaning the dishes, setting them on the racks to dry, you check the time floating above the stove top.

“12:15…” Since having to be awake at six this morning, you have been running on little to no energy. You are exhausted, to the point where every muscle in your body is aching, and yet you know if you go to lie down right now, you won’t be able to fall asleep. Sincerely, on nights like this, you have very few options. You can either stay awake and suffer, either staring at the ceiling or watching murder mystery specials, or you could sneak into a certain someone’s room and force them to let you sleep in their bed. And honestly, you already know you will end up doing the latter at some point.

After turning off the lights, you saunter over to Yoongi’s room, not even bothering to knock before entering. Considering you two have been friends for what feels like an eternity, you already know his late night habits just as well as you know your own. Nothing surprises you anymore, at least not with him.

Inside his room, he is already curled in a ball with his back toward the door. In the corner of the room, he keeps his special night light, although, you are never allowed to use those words around him. He refuses to believe he has a night light. Instead, he insists it’s just a lamp that he always forgets to turn off at night. Sure Yoongi, whatever you say.

With him being so close to the wall, you can tell he was expecting you to come at some point in the night. Whether or not it would be this soon after dinner, you suppose it doesn’t matter, so long as he’s not surprised the moment you pull back the covers. Doing your best to stay quiet, you sneak into his bed, making as little movements as possible.

“What took you so fucking long?” He sighs, “I’ve been lying awake for the past hour waiting for you.” Snuggling up against him, you try to express your apologies without words. You are about five seconds from passing out and the last thing you want to deal with is his attitude.

Considering he doesn’t respond any further, you take it as a sign of forgiveness. Either that or he’s just as unwilling to deal with it as you are. Knowing him, it’s probably the second one. You already know he has a large book of grudges, most of which he likes to hold against you.

With the dim lighting of the so-called lamp in the corner, you feel yourself start to drift. The aches and pains which have plagued you all day are finally starting to disappear, the day’s stress dissipating the moment you close your eyes.

Jolting awake, you automatically squeeze your thighs together. The several glasses of water you had for dinner are finally catching up to you. Looking over at Yoongi’s desk, you realize it’s only two in the morning. You didn’t even last two hours before your bladder decided to punish you just for trying to be a healthy adult. Carefully taking off the comforter, you crouch onto the floor as to make yourself as invisible as possible. Normally, you would try not to move at all, knowing that Yoongi would probably kick your ass if you woke him up. But this is one time when you don’t think you’ll make it out alive if you don’t go now.

Crawling toward the door, you do your best to avoid the articles of clothing and odd stacks of paper strewn on the ground. The door, much to your surprise, is entirely quiet, opening without so much as a problem. Looking down the hallways, you notice no one else is up and around, the perfect setting to execute your plan. The place has never been so still. Too lazy to reorient yourself, you continue to crawl in the direction of the bathroom, the new stealth mode you have just acquired being utilized to its fullest. Once inside, you release the breath you had been holding, but not before quickly clenching your legs. Scrambling to the toilet, you are finally able to do your business, the hardest part of the night now quickly over with.

Turning off the light, you head back to Yoongi's room, but when you happen to walk past Jimin's door, you hear strange sounds coming from within. On a normal night, and maybe in an alternate universe, you probably would have ignored it, deciding that your sleep was worth more than whatever goes on behind that closed door. But considering it is this particular night and you have no control over your curiosity, you decide to place your ear to the door. From what you can tell, there isn't a lot going on, nothing but silence on the other end. Just when you are about to turn around and head to bed, you hear the smallest and most sensual moan. At first you think you're imagining things, the thought of this asshole masturbating being both a blessing and curse, but when you can't seem to pry yourself away, you already know you're in for quite the ride. When his moans suddenly become louder, the faint sound of a female in the background, your heart begins beating out of control. There is something very intimate about this scene and although you might enjoy this any other time, the fact that Jimin is still a piece of shit makes you feel otherwise. Although the arousal beginning to pool at your center seems to tell you otherwise.

"Ah... Y/N..." At the sound of your name, your heart immediately stops. Out of the female names you have ever heard come out of his mouth, the last one you thought you’d here during a moment like this is your own. As hot and amazing as it sounds coming from him, you can’t but hate it at the same time. He has the audacity to bruise your ego with comments about the fact that you can’t get laid, and yet in the same breath, will moan your name while masturbating? With porn no less? He has some nerve.

Deciding to call it a night, you rush back into Yoongi’s room, slamming the door shut. You’ll deal with the repercussions later, all you want to do is forget it ever happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” Yoongi groans, tossing in his corner while you make your way back underneath the covers.

“Jimin can’t keep my name out of his filthy mouth.” You state, the frustration only adding to your headache.

“I wish he would stop that shit, I don’t wanna know what he’s thinking about when he’s touching himself.”

“So you knew about this?” You aren’t even surprised to know that this happens often, but the fact that Yoongi is fully aware of your name somehow being involved in Jimin’s private time is what irritates you most.

“Clearly you hate knowing about it so why would I tell you?” Although he has a point, you can’t help but hate every man in this house. Except for maybe Jungkook. Either way, you only hope tomorrow, Jimin avoids you at all costs.

The following morning, you wake up feeling like absolute hell. After that little interaction, not being able to get your mind off the way he moaned, every syllable of your name that came from his mouth is now eternally burned into your memory. It kept you up all night, and considering you only go to Yoongi to help you sleep, this time he was of no help at all.

Getting up, you try to pat Yoongi awake only for your arm to be pushed away and a string of curses being sent in your direction. For someone who is normally a morning person, it seems he might have gotten just as little of sleep as you did. And for that you feel slightly guilty.

"Sorry for keeping you up all night... it's time to get up, you have to leave for work soon." Reaching him arm from underneath the covers, he grabs his phone that is perched on the windowsill. It only takes one glance before he starts whining, realizing that yes, indeed, he did have work in an hour.

Forcing yourself from the comfort of his bed, you walk out of his room straight into yours directly across the hall. From the small bit of conversation you can hear, Jimin and Jungkook are busy chatting away in the kitchen, the two idiots clearly not having left for work yet. It's usually you and Yoongi still left in the house as your jobs don't start until later, but, for some reason, they seem to be taking their sweet time. Unfortunately for you, you might actually have to face Jimin. Wonderful.

One thing you are grateful about is that the boys agreed to let you have one of the rooms with its own bathroom, knowing full well that sharing the one in the hall would only lead to disaster. The other, which was given to Jungkook after an intense game of rock-paper-scissors, is still not nearly as nice as yours. It's not as if they would have utilized the spa tub anyway.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you start to get cleaned up, taking special care to wash your face in the hopes that it will take away every bit of blush that seems to have permanently stained your cheeks after last night. It would be a miracle if by the time you were done, everyone would be gone and out of your hair, giving you the rest of the day to pull yourself together only to meet them again later in the day. You even take extra time on your makeup, coating each individual lash in the hopes that they have already left.

Digging clothes from your closet, you decide to wear your favorite jeans, a crisp white bottom up blouse on top. Paired with your favorite earrings and chunky heel, you are set to finally leave. Checking one last time in the mirror, you take one last breath before grabbing your jacket and purse and heading out. When you close your bedroom door, you realize that Jimin and Jungkook are still in the main room, chatting as if neither of them had responsibilities. You do your best to quietly sneak past them, but when they come into view with Jimin's back facing you, you realize that maybe you should have taken a little more time to get ready.

"I'm telling you, she is the most gorgeous girl I've ever met in my entire life. She puts every girl I've ever been with to shame. And she asked meout, can you believe that? I bet she'd look pretty on her knees..." When Jungkook notices you, he tries to signal with his eyes to Jimin. From what you can decipher, he's basically saying "shut the fuck up you idiot", but of course, amidst his banter, Jimin doesn't notice a thing. Too lost in his own world about the next girl he's going to bang.

Not wanting to hear anymore, you make sure to be as loud as possible as you nearly rush out the door. Feigning lateness is one thing, but more than anything you wanted him to know you heard everything. How this sex-addicted piece of shit manages to say one girl's name while jacking it and think about his next escapade not a moment later is something you will never understand. He is a player, and he does what every other player does. Piss you off.

All you need to do is get through the day then maybe you can survive the day without killing anyone.

By the time you arrive home, it being almost six, you feel as though you're seconds from passing out. You had entirely forgotten about the meeting at work, not being prepared to give your presentation about recent Artificial Intelligence breakthroughs (although expertly pulling it off like you always managed to do) but in the end, all your energy is drained. And to be honest, it wasn't as if you had that much to begin with.

Based on the current state of the house, you can tell that Jimin and Yoongi aren't home, the hooks for their keys being empty. You do, however, see Jungkook's sneakers in the entryway, his keys on the kitchen counter alongside a small box and a note. Pulling off your heels, you walk over to grab the small card, opening it to see your name written delicately in glitter pen.

"Y/N,

Sorry about this morning. Here's some chocolate.

-JK"

Putting down the card, you can't help the infectious smile from taking over your lips. Even if it's the most dry message, the thought is still there. The fact that he even thought to get you anything is in itself a surprise, yet he somehow knew that one of your biggest weaknesses is good chocolate. Untying the multi-colored ribbon, you carefully open the box only to be met with the sight of a lifetime. Each row contained your favorite chocolates: from caramel, to rum nougat, to that one fancy one that you still can't manage to pronounce. You can't even contain your excitement about the thought of eating them all in one sitting, you entire body vibrating. It's been so long since you last went to buy yourself treats, and having them waiting for you upon coming home was definitely a wonderful surprise.

Looking toward Jungkook's room, you see his door slightly ajar. He likely heard you come in, the sound of those chunky heels not an easy thing to miss. But when you hear the sounds him shouting, the subsequent "you fucking bastard" strung between each command, you realize this kid is likely too deep into his games to remember that you even exist.

"Listen here assholes, if you don't do as I say we're going to have a fucking problem. I carry this team on my fucking back every fucking week and if you don't start pulling your weight, I'm gonna strangle you through the screen!"

Never in your life have you heard Jungkook swear like this, a majority of his demeanor being quiet, and quite honestly, he is more of a recluse than anything else. Most of the conversations you've witnessed have never been anything more than him either listening or throwing in a few phrases here and there just to maintain the flow. This side of him is entirely new, and you're loving it.

"For fucks sake! Do something! Go Go!" He shouts, frustration seeping through every syllable, "Oh my fucking god I'm going to kill all of you."

You can't help but smile at this newly obtained piece of information, the fact that he's not nearly as innocent and sweet as you originally thought. He's sworn before, yes, but only in the presence of alcohol. And the most he'd ever said was 'shit', and even then, you couldn't take him seriously.

Walking up to his room, you peak your head through the door. From this angle, you can see the television screen, watching as his character runs around aimlessly with two swords clutched in each hand. You have no idea what game this is.

"I've gotten nine out of the nine kills for our team, what the fuck are you doing, jerking each other off?" It becomes more difficult to contain your laughter, the string of profanities coming from his mouth nothing less than comedic.

Once a flashing pop-up appears on the screen, spelling the words "Team A Loses", you know damn well the show will only become more dramatic. Just as you are about to hide away, leaving him to deal with utter defeat, you catch a glimpse of him throwing his headphones on the ground, using his foot to turn off the console. From the looks of it, this is probably not the first time this has happened.

The poor kid is left nearly pulling his hair out, leaning back in his chair with his eyes shut. He's probably conjuring several ways to murder his teammates as we speak, something you likely would have done too if you were in his position. But then again, you know absolutely nothing about video games.

In an attempt to walk away, you manage to trip over your own feet, falling over directly into the handle of the closet door. The sound of your accident must have caught his attention, as the next thing you know, Jungkook is crouching beside you.

"Are-you-okay what-happened?" His speech comes out far too quickly for you to understand, the heat beginning to accumulate in your body only adding to the pain beginning to form at your side.

"Yeah-uh I'm fine. I came to ask what you wanted for dinner but I tripped on myself..." Doing your best to cover your tracks, you try to act as though you didn't just hear the last few minutes of his predicament.

"Oh, you're cooking tonight?" He asks, grabbing your arm to help you up. Realizing your mistake, the fact that it was indeed a weekday and had only had family dinner night yesterday, you try to think of something to solidify your alibi.

"Yeah I know everyone is probably suffering from a case of the Mondays and I'm feeling exceptionally nice today..." Adorning a fake smile, you casually limp in the direction of the kitchen. Jungkook immediately comes to your aid, once again, placing his arm around your shoulders as he leads you toward the kitchen.

"Did you hurt your leg too?" Looking at you from head to toe, he examines the state of your body. Watching him from your periphery only results in the rouging of your cheeks, sweat beginning to form underneath your armpits.

"I-ah well... It just hurts to walk, I don't know, I'm stupid." At this point, just existing is painful, especially after having made a fool of yourself. It's not that you usually don't, in fact you're certain Yoongi calls you an idiot at least twice a day, but this has put you at a different level of stupidity. Yoongi's going to love it when you tell him.

"You're not stupid. It happens. Do you want an icepack?" Looking over at him, you try to decipher his expression. All you see is pure concern, the innocence which you have known him for immediately coming back.

"Yeah that would be great." Setting you on the bar stool, he walks to the freezer to grab the small ice pack, the one with the small rubber ducks on it that you specifically set aside for yourself.

Handing it over to you across the counter, he gives you a small smile. You feel like your face is ready to explode.

"Don't worry about dinner, I can handle it. Just relax." You don't think you've ever once seen Jungkook volunteer to cook, taking advantage of his status as the one youngest in the house. Not even that, but you can speak for both Jimin and Yoongi when you say that you all inherently have a desire to care for him, even if it means taking on extra work to take care of the house.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. For the chocolates too, that was very sweet and a nice surprise." Looking over his shoulder, he smiles brightly, nodding his head as an informal 'you're welcome'. Although you had never thought you'd be spending this much time with Jungkook of all people, you're almost glad you have a tendency to be a walking accident. Although the screaming pain at your ribcage is telling you otherwise.

Placing the icepack at your side, you rest your head against the counter and just watch the show. Jungkook, much to your surprise, isn't as hopeless in the kitchen as you originally thought. Even though he chooses to make a giant pot of ramen, the addition of chopped sausage, chili bean paste, and green onion is something you never would have expected from him. Since he is usually the first one home, he probably makes dishes like this all the time. But seeing it up close in action is entirely different story.

Over the next few minutes, you watch as Yoongi makes it through the door, immediately awe struck at the sight of Jungkook in the kitchen.

"You're actually cooking? You know how to use the stove? Who taught you this." He taunts, setting his jacket on the hook.

"I know how to make ramen, thank you very much." Watching Jungkook roll his eyes at Yoongi has never been so amusing, clearly the loss doing wonders for Jungkook's new personality.

"It better be good," Yoongi warns, "And the hell happened to you?" Taking a seat at the stool next to you, he pokes at your arm until you finally cave in and respond.

"I had an accident okay, don't worry about it." The wound to your pride is far too fresh to admit to the actual string of events. He'll find out eventually, just not right now.

"Jungkook, what'd she do." Knowing he won't be able to coax an answer from you, he decides to attack his only source of information.

"She came home like that, how would I know." Raising your eyebrow, you're surprised to see a sudden ally. Apparently you'd been wrong about Jungkook this entire time.

"When is Jimin coming home?" You ask, the way his name falls off your tongue already leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

But you are only met with silence.

"Is no one going to answer me?" Lifting your head, you look between Jungkook and Yoongi, neither of them budging. Both seem to avoid eye contact with you, Jungkook too focused on stirring the pot while Yoongi is preoccupied on his phone.

"I see how it is..." Returning your head to the counter, you stare at the clock on the wall. It's almost seven, and Jimin should have returned a while ago. Maybe he isn't coming home at all.

"You know Jimin likes you right." With how quickly your head shot up from the counter, you likely gave yourself whiplash. As much as you would have liked to hide your intrigue, you can't help but react.

"What are you talking about." Yoongi's low tone can only be read as a warning, Jungkook's sudden outburst now coming under fire.

"Jungkook, don't fuck with me. He what now?" The room remains silent except for the sound of the ramen boiling, both of them locked in staring contest, as if your presence is no longer welcome.

"Jimin likes you." Jungkook repeats, never once breaking eye contact with Yoongi. You aren't sure what alternate universe you've stumbled into, but you wish you could escape.

Jimin having feelings for you is something you never thought would happen. Never. You may have dreamt about it several times, but each time you woke up knowing that it would never be the truth. And yet you're here, those words suddenly coming out of Jungkook's mouth and you're left wondering how much of this reality is even true. Jimin is the type who doesn't like to settle down. He has a new girl around his arm every month. Sometimes, every week. Jimin doesn't do feelings. He does sex. At least that's what Yoongi always tells you.

"Oh." You aren't sure how to respond as nothing about this situation makes sense. Technically, Jungkook would be the one to know those little secrets about Jimin. It would make sense for Jungkook to know those things. But the fact that it's you? He must be making it up. Is this part of his gift? To tell you what you want to hear? Well you don't want it. Not in the slightest.

Removing yourself from the counter, you head straight into your room, ignoring the way your body screams at you in pain. Your heart, which you thought would be overjoyed, only hurts. If it is indeed true and Jimin does have feelings for you, then he has only put you through all this pain for what? Considering everyone and their neighbor knows of your feelings, you wouldn't be surprised if Jimin caught on long ago. And yet he continues to go out, meet girls, and bring them home in front of your face as if it meant nothing. He truly is, and will always be, an asshole.

Lying on your bed, you rest the icepack on your side. From how hot you have been feeling, it is mostly liquid, but at least in some ways, it continues to cool you down. If only you had one for your entire body, then maybe you could see yourself getting through this.

Stretching your arms to the ceiling, you quickly realize you had fallen asleep. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you read that it's already eleven. You had slept for four hours. There is no way you will be able to sleep tonight.

Sitting up, you place the ice pack on the table, tossing your legs over the edge of the bed. Your entire body is sore, a majority of your rib cage still aching like no other. You really did yourself in.

With the sole thought of getting that box of chocolates, the concept of shoving every single piece in your mouth, you decide to leave your room. Opening the door, you notice that the house is quiet, a majority of the lights turned off in the main room. Stepping out, you try to be as quick as possible in retrieving the chocolates, but when you notice Jungkook chilling on the couch, nothing but his phone in his hand, you aren't sure if leaving the comfort of your room was as good of an idea as you had originally thought.

Unfortunately for you, he notices you immediately.

"Hey... you're awake." He states, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Yeah... I was tired." Heading directly into the kitchen, you grab the box and the note, set on hiding in your room for the rest the night. Maybe even for the rest of eternity.

"Can we talk?" Had it not been for the fact that the house was essentially empty, you never would have heard him. If you had to describe his voice in two words, it would definitely be 'tiny font'.

Turning around, you nod slightly, making your way over to his spot on the couch. Sitting on the opposite end, you wait for him to continue, but for a while it seems as though he is collecting his thoughts. Either that or he entirely spaced out. When he suddenly turns his body to face you, you feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know why I said that. I should have known that it would make you uncomfortable considering we're housemates and all." Shaking your head, you try to reassure him. It doesn't help that the current series of events has put you in a weird mood lately, but you also understand that he meant no harm in doing so.

"It's okay, really. I was being sensitive I guess, I didn't really have a reason to act that way." Pursing his lips, he processes your words. He doesn't say anything, instead letting awkward silence fill the space between you. You want nothing more than for this conversation to be over with so that you can at least be alone to deal with your now extremely disorganized feelings.

"It's not okay. I know you like him... and I probably made things really awkward." Biting your bottom lip, you mentally scorn yourself in your head. You had figured that Jungkook had known, either just by witnessing the many awkward exchanges or Yoongi spilling the tea, but never did you think he would confront you about it. Not like this.

"I... yeah I do. But let's just pretend that's not the case so I can move on without wanting to yeet myself down a flight a stairs." Normally when you have conversations such as this, the person on the other end is almost always Yoongi. Yoongi appreciates dark humor and your ubiquitous use of the word 'yeet'. Jungkook, on the other hand, has never spoken more than a few casual sentences with you.

"Please don't do that, I feel really bad now, I'm sorry!" The pure concern and sorrow etched onto Jungkook's face is something you never thought you would witness first hand. He is sweet and has never once been on anyone's bad side, especially in this household. Yet he masters the art of looking pitiful quite well.

"No no! I don't mean it literally. Only Jimin is that dramatic." Trying to reassure him, you laugh it all off, pretending as if doing so doesn't kill you from the bruised rib. He is only response is to mouth the words 'oh', the entire subject now being dropped.

"Are you hungry? I can make-" Just as Jungkook tries to speak, Yoongi bursts through the front door. From the way he staggers inside, you can tell he's veryvery drunk.

Running over to him, you hold him up while he kicks off his shoes. Upon seeing your face, his breath reeking of alcohol, a large smile forms across his face.

"Hey... you. You're alive, I miss-ed youuu." You can't help but cringe internally at his words, his attempts at being cute probably being your least favorite moments. Drunk Yoongi only has three settings: soft, mega soft, or an asshole. And from what you can tell, he's in the mood to be as obnoxiously soft as possible.

"Missed you too bitch. Come on, let's get you to your room." Pulling him close to you, you try to breathe through the pain and lead him in the direction from his room. Eyeing Jungkook on the couch, you can tell he wants to help. But both of you know that when it comes to Yoongi being drunk, there is only one person who he will have anything to do with. And that person is you.

Mouthing the words 'sorry', you make large strides to get Yoongi into his room. Upon opening the door, you find that his room is spotless - even his entire desk had been reorganized. Which only tells that you something must have happened at work. He's known to be quite the clean freak amidst a lot of stress.

Throwing him onto the bed, you try to catch your breath. He may be small human but it's not as if you're the strongest person either. The fact that you even got him this far is quite a miracle.

Going back to close the door, you take the chair at his desk and pull it toward the bed.

"So what happened?" Simple interrogation is easy with drunk Yoongi, because unlike non-drunk Yoongi, this one is willing to tell you literally everything.

"I was mad." He pouts, tossing one of the pillows of his bed.

"Mad about what exactly?"

"Jungkook's stupid." Alright, well there's a clue.

"He's not stupid," you emphasize, irritated that Yoongi would even suggest such a thing, "don't say shit that's not true."

"He shouldn't have told you that. Not even I was going to tell you that." As you suspected Yoongi knew this whole time as well. He was just waiting to watch everything burst into flames.

"Good to know you keep shit from me. And you call yourself my best friend." Even if you aren't entirely irritated, knowing full well that Yoongi always has his reasons for keeping things from you, but the fact that you had to find out from someone other than him does hurt your pride. Just a little bit.

"Oh please, I am your one and only. And if it makes up for it, I can tell you something else." Intrigued by his offer, you swivel the chair until you are directly facing him. "And that is?"

The sudden smile that appears on his face terrifies you, as you've only known that look to be associated with nothing but a bad time.

"Jungkook likes you too." Rolling your eyes, you consider punching him in the throat. Why he thinks it's alright to play with you right now, you're not sure, but one thing you do know is that he won't be getting away with it.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm going to bed." Getting up from the chair, you get ready to leave.

"I'm serious! He told me." Turning around, you try to contain the anger suddenly building up within you.

"Enough jokes Yoongi! Stop!" Being single and alone sucks so much more when every man around just like to play with your feelings.

"Y/N. Seriously. Did you really think he picked out those chocolates without coming to me first? I'm literally the only person on this fucking earth who knows what chocolates you eat, especially since you can only buy them from one specific store. And second, this bastard has been eyeing you since the day we moved in. Avoids you like the plague because being near you makes him nervous. Worries about you constantly. Remember that night he went to go pick you up from that one stupid bar because you were too drunk and your date disappeared? Do you think that was coincidence, no this bitch overheard you drunk calling me and ran out the door like the house was on fire. He likesyou. Just face it! Ugh, you get on my nerves sometimes." Rolling over, he curls up into a ball against the wall. Leaving you to sit with the mess that his drunk self has so lovingly created.

Taking your leave, you make your way into your bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. If you could wish for anything, you would wish to not exist. Everything is confusing, nothing makes sense and somehow you are put in the most awkward position on the planet thanks to these idiots who can't seem to get their shit together. You wish they would have just left you out of this, let you suffer in peace as you had done so before everyone's feelings got mixed in.

Lying on your bed, you can only stare up at the ceiling. With things being a million times more complicated, there is no way you are going to be able to sleep. Not when there is too much to figure out before things get out of hand.

The following morning, you do your best to get ready early. A full two hours early. Knowing that Jungkook and Jimin would be leaving within the next hour, at least assuming Jimin even came home last night, you rush to pull yourself together for work. You figure you can sit in the cafe on the first floor of your office building to pass the time, eat some food since you basically had nothing yesterday. Whatever you can do to get out of here early, you will absolutely do so. You hate every bit of this.

With your favorite dress on, tights and black booties to match, you grab your jacket and head straight for the front door. However, when you make it to the main living room, you're met with Jungkook, his favorite thermos for coffee in hand.

"Good morning. You're up early?" The inflection at the end of his question makes your heart constrict, the utter thought that this man has feelings for you killing you on the inside. You had never considered the thought and now it’s all you can think about.

"Yeah, I have to go in early to get some extra work done." You will lie straight through your teeth.

"Hopefully that means you can come home early. Maybe we can hang out and watch a movie or something." Oh my fucking god.

"Sounds great, I better get going, see you later!" Waving awkwardly, you head straight for the door, only to be knocked over by Jimin suddenly swinging it open.

"Oh shit, sorry Y/N, are you-"

"I'm fine, bye!" Rushing past him, you run straight to your car, no longer caring about your image at this point. Every man in this house is out to kill you, and the last thing you need is to be spending any more time around them if you can help it.

Once safely inside, you shift the car into reverse, leaving as if your life depends on it. Not only do your ribs hurt, but your shoulder is now out of commission as well. And who’s going to pay your medical bills?

After the conversation with Jungkook from this morning, your worst fear for the day was going home. In fact, you even made a point to go out with one of your coworkers just so you wouldn't have to. The idea of being with Jungkook alone only gives you anxiety, the fact that he even asked in the first place being so out of character.

But, as you stand outside the house at nearly eleven o'clock, you know that you can't avoid it forever, as much as you would like to. You're going to have to face him at some point. Might as well get it over with so that maybe you can get a good night's rest for once. As if that would ever happen.

Opening the door quietly, you sneak inside. You took your boots off prior to coming in, hoping that it would lessen the noise, and luckily for you, all the lights were off albeit the lamp in the corner. A sure sign that everyone is either out or preoccupied in their respective rooms. For your own sake, you only hope it's the latter. Tip toeing into your room, you drop your bag and your coat. As quickly as possible you change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, removing your makeup and brushing your teeth. You want to just sleep for as long as possible, so that when you show up to work tomorrow, you might actually be able to do your job.

Going across the hall, you open the door to Yoongi's room. Except for when you open the door, he isn't even inside.

"This asshole..." Of course the one night you desperately need him in order to sleep, he isn't even home. And he probably won't even come home this time, especially after last night. Essentially, you're screwed.

Returning to the living room, you sit quietly on the couch. From what you can tell, Jimin and Jungkook are both asleep, not a peep coming from either direction in the house.

Turning on the television, you immediately turn down the volume to 'non-existent', choosing to put on subtitles instead. Whenever Yoongi isn’t around and you have enough energy to exist outside of your room, you have a tendency to watch a series of murder mysteries, just to preoccupy your time. Not that things like that even scared, you found them extremely fascinating, but on occasion when someone would find you curled up on the couch at four in the morning zoned out on a murder scene, you would only receive criticizing looks. As if any of their habits were any better than your own.

Opening HulaHoop, your favorite streaming app, you continue where you last left off. You are currently on Season 5, making your way through Episode 3, fighting your way through the evidence surrounding the chilling torso murders. As you make your way through the rest of the season, quickly losing track of time, you hear the sound of one of the doors opening. When Jungkook comes out, hair disheveled and his collarbone exposed, you damn near choke on air.

“Ah, you’re home?” His gruff, sleep-heavy voice catches you off guard, much deeper than you’ve ever heard him sound. As much as you hate to admit it, he sounds really hot.

“Couldn’t sleep. What are you doing up?” You ask, trying to avoiding looking at his smooth, exposed skin.

“Water. I’m dying.” Chuckling softly, you watch as he basically waddles into the kitchen. He must still be half asleep from the way he can’t seem to find a glass despite living here for an eternity. Finally stumbling upon the right cabinet, he takes one of the largest glass and fills it with water from the front of the fridge. You only blink once and the water is nearly gone.

“Damn, you were real thirsty.” Nodding his head, he fills it once more, basically chugging it before placing the empty glass in the sink.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, focusing his sights on the screen.

“Murder mysteries. This one is about a family who disappeared from their cabin. Apparently only the youngest daughter was found alive and she can’t remember anything, not even her own name. It’s crazy.” Trying to comprehend your words, he just stares into the void of the screen, looking as if he’s about to fall asleep standing up.

“Is Yoongi not home?” He realizes, checking the hallway in the direction of your rooms.

“Nah. I don’t know where he is.” Not that it would make a difference anyway. He’s just not home.

“Did you want to come sleep with me?” Before he even processes what he says, you stare at him wide-eyed. This was the most blatant flirting this kid has ever done.

“Wait I’m sorry, I retract that, too far, oh my god.” Rubbing his bare face with his hands, he walks in circles, trying to snatch his words out of existence. If only his offer didn’t sound so promising.

“Actually… can I? I have a lot of work to do tomorrow and I really need sleep. And Yoongi’s not home…” The last thing you want is to sound eager, especially since this is honestly the last thing you want to do, but it would be an understatement to say you’re desperate at this point.

“I-I guess, if you want.”

“Jungkook. You’re the one who offered, I don’t hav-”

“No-no it’s chill, it’s fine go for it.” He’s about five seconds from having an absolute mental breakdown.

“Okay…” Turning off the television, you follow him into his room. Just as you expected, his room is neat as always, everything in its place. At least Jungkook’s bed is in the center, meaning you didn’t have to worry about being crammed against a wall.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” Jungkook states uncomfortably, “but you can have that side if you want.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t matter, I can take the other side.” Everything about this exchange is more awkward than anything you have ever experienced. No wonder he’s just a recluse.

Turning off the lights, you both crawl into his bed. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling, neither of you willing to move, you both seem to read each other’s mind, turning away so that your backs are now facing each other. From underneath the blankets, you could feel a tremendous amount of body heat radiating from his side of the bed. It is a known fact in the house that Jungkook is quite the lover, a serial monogamist one might call him, and yet when it comes to being around you, he just can’t seem to get a hold of himself. And much to your dismay, you’re absolutely a nervous wreck right beside him. Everything about this screams uncomfortable, although his mattress is probably the nicest one you’ve ever lied on, but still! You feel like you’re roasting alive under the tension.

“Do you mind if I turn on a little music? It helps me sleep.” He asks quietly, shifting closer to the edge of the bed.

“Wouldn’t mind at all.” For a moment you feel him fumble about, probably reaching somewhere in the darkness for his phone. Seeing your shadows illuminate on the wall, you guess that he found exactly what he was looking for. All around the room, soft piano music begins to play, the dim lighting illuminating the small speakers in the corner of the room.

He is quite tech-savvy.

Locking his phone, you hear it hit the carpet of the floor. Despite having felt as stiff as a brick only moments ago, the sounds of the music quickly seems to alleviate your stress. You had never thought before to utilize music to help you sleep as Yoongi just seemed like a convenient option considering you used to have to sleep in one bed when you used to share the smallest studio in existence. Although it doesn’t have the exact same effect, it’s doing enough to at least get you to relax. At this point, that’s all you really need. After a couple minutes of just following the notes, allowing your mind to drift alongside the music, you find yourself falling quickly into dreamland, not another peep to be heard.

With a few weeks having passed, things slowly started to go back to normal. You had, in many ways, fixed your friendship with Jimin, him apologizing a million times over after subsequently finding out from Yoongi that he had, quote, “royally fucked up”. You knew from the beginning that you weren’t going to hold a grudge forever, especially knowing that after a certain point, your weakness for him would ultimately win everything else over. And not because you have feelings for him. Just because it’s Jimin.

As of recently, the general dynamics in the house have shifted dramatically, Jimin spending more time at home and Jungkook becoming more involved with everyone to the point of him actually making plans for everyone to go out together. After nearly a year, things were finally starting to fall into place, the family of friends you had dreamed of slowly beginning to manifest itself in front of your very eyes. If only feelings weren’t still an issue.

As part of your resolution, after having witnessed the aftermath first hand of what it actually felt like to live in the same house as your crush, you vowed to sever the feelings you originally thought you would never get over. Whether or not it has been successful is still up for debate, Yoongi being on the side of delusional rather than an actual breakthrough. But you expected nothing less from him considering he can’t grasp the concept of not being cynical.

You had arrived home not too long ago, the beloved Friday finally gracing your presence. Your plans for the weekend consisted of nothing and more of nothing, every part of your body aching to be in sweatpants for a full 48 hours. Whenever Valentine's Day is approaching, you always manage to secure your weekend with selfcare and selfcare only, even if it means watching a drama for hours on end and eating the largest box of rum nougats. Your favorite part being the rum, of course.

When you first walk through the door, you notice the typical arrangement against the wall: Jungkook’s keys alongside three empty spots. It’s like a ritual to come home like this on the weekdays, one that at least serves as some validation that the world is still in order. You can still remember the one day you had arrived home and saw that not even Jungkook’s keys were on the hook – a sight you hadn’t seen in the entirety of living in the house. You had even gone so far as to call Yoongi and Jimin, ready to put out an amber alert for your missing child to which Yoongi only responded: “He went to a conference for work, he’ll be gone all week will you calm down?” Ever since then you’ve made sure to rely on things other than Jungkook's keys to check the status of the universe. However, it hasn't been easy considering the ritual continued immediately after he had returned from his trip.

Heading straight to your room, you notice the door is left slightly open. Whenever you leave for work, you know for a fact that you close the door. Every time. Slowly opening it, you are surprised to see quite the assortment laid out on the bed, including a giant teddy bear, flowers and that very familiar box of chocolates.

Someone clearly ignored rule number two.

Rule 2: DO NOT go into each other’s personal spaces without permission. You will get caught.

Well it's not as if they were trying to hide it... this is almost too blatant.

Walking up to your bed, you immediately grab the card.

"My dearest Y/N,

For this Valentine's I have gifted you a buddy that will hopefully help you sleep along with some of your favorite flowers and the chocolate I know you love more than anything else.

I hope it's not too late to encroach on your plans for the weekend, but if you'd like, I have reservations to la Cour du Feu, a little restaurant on the water that I'm sure you'll come to love.

If this flops, pretend it never happened. Thanks.

with uncontrollable feelings, Jungkook"

Unable to hide your amusement, you toss the card onto the bedding alongside the tremendously large bear. Everything about this is sweet yet hilarious, a part of you wondering how you managed to get yourself into this situation. Even the bear seems a little over the top, but you can't deny that it's probably the cutest bear you've ever seen. If you squint, it actually looks around the same size as Yoongi, so maybe, just maybe, Jungkook might be onto something.

Despite your best efforts to control yourself, your first inclination is to open the suspecting box. Just as you predicted, the same assortment from before welcomes you, several more of each kind filling each of the little spots. You're true weakness, these stupid chocolates, fill you with so much joy that you almost forget to consider the proposition previously presented to you. Almost.

Rule 5: No relationships between roommates.

But is it really breaking the rule if it's just one date? Likely not. And besides, you would never end up with him anyway. Even though he's adorable and mildly attractive. Actually, very attractive. But who are you to refute facts?

Popping one of the nougats into your mouth, you quickly try to decide your course of action. As much as you'd love to go to a nice restaurant and be doted on for once in your life, and on Valentine's Day for that matter, you aren't sure if you're willing to start something you can't finish. Not even Yoongi is here to try and help you, acting as the voice of reason you never seem to have on your own. Jungkook knows you're home, the poor kid is probably waiting on his bed petrified, which means you have about a minute to decide.

What harm could it possibly do?

Probably a lot, actually. Pulling at your own hair, you realize that this can either go really well or really poorly. And even though you're a risk taker, are you willing to put the sanctity of this household at risk just because you want to be wined and dined?

Yes, yes you are.

Exiting your room, you head straight to Jungkook's. His door is closed and you can't hear anything coming from inside. He's not even bothering to play his games.

Knocking on the door, you hear the saddest "come in" in existence, his voice having audibly cracked in the middle of it.

"Hey," you say peeking through the door, "I came with my answer."

His eyes perk up at your words, the genuine anticipation in his eyes almost killing you.

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

The sigh of relief that expels from his body makes you laugh, as he had very harshly thrown himself back on the bed.

"Thank god, I had put that there like two hours ago and I've been suffering ever since. Especially after you came home, I seriously considered just jumping out my window, I couldn't handle it." He pauses. "But I'm glad. I'm very very glad."

Sitting next to him on the bed, you wrap your arm around his shoulder.

"You did well, those were expertly picked gifts." His smile only makes your heart melt, every part of you wanting to pinch his cheeks and shower him with affection. But of course you would never do that. Never.

The rest of the night went by relatively smoothly, both Jimin and Yoongi returning home at their usual times. Jungkook had decided to put on a movie to watch in the living room, everyone seeming to have had the same sort of day at work. An unbearable and brutal one.

Both you and Jungkook agreed not to say anything to the others, knowing that this would inevitably put the rules into question. No, you weren't in a relationship, but it's not as though going on a date didn't inevitably turn into more dates. Which, you can conclude, would lead to a full blown relationship. Although, if you were to get caught, you would just claim you had asked Jungkook in desperation to finally be taken out on a date for Valentine's Day. That shit hasn't happened for years, and it just seemed like a perfect opportunity. At least that's what you would tell them. You already know Yoongi wouldn't buy it, but at the very least, it might work on Jimin. If he didn't get butthurt, that is.

Sitting next to Yoongi, you rest your head on his shoulder. Just like every other movie night, you use him as your personal body pillow. Every few seconds, you notice Jungkook glancing over in your direction, and although you'd like to think he was just checking on your well-being, you know the look on his face very well. It's the same look you would tend to give Jimin whenever he would bring another girl over. Speaking of which, you haven't seen in quite some time.

"Yo Jimin, what happened to that one pretty girl you were dating? The one with the short brunette hair that always smelled like roses." The fact that you saying those words induced a revelation followed by an 'ahhh' coming from Jungkook, you know that it wasn't just you who noticed her odd and sudden disappearance, at least without a replacement.

"We broke up. She didn't like the fact that I was living with another woman." Rolling your eyes, you add that to the list of stupid excuses you've heard from Jimin's lovers. This one, in particular, has been used quite a bit.

"As if that means anything. We have those rules for a reason. And besides, nothing will happen between us." The conviction in your voice came out more harsh than you had planned, and albeit stating a fact, you couldn't help but feel guilty. Especially after seeing the disappointment etched on his face.

"Right." Looking at Yoongi, you try to get some help, but when he only shrugs his shoulders, you realize you are completely on your own.

Everyone eventually gets back to the movie, Jungkook making another round of popcorn for the second half. Upon the movie’s ending, Yoongi is the first to get up, bidding farewell in the only way he knows how.

"Night assholes." The slamming of his door is one indication that he is in a mood and in no way willing to spend another moment near everyone. Which means you're probably going to sleep in your own room tonight.

"Y/N, can I talk to you?" Jimin asks, standing up to face you. For a moment, you feel panicked, not sure how to get out of it. He tone is deadpan and slightly harsh, meaning whatever he has to say likely isn't positive. At first you look to Jungkook, hoping he might be of some assistance, but before you can even ask, he is already heading to his room.

"Sure." When he grabs your arm, you realize the severity of the situation. He doesn't just want to talk, he wants to talk talk.

Pulling you into his room he shuts it behind him. Everything about this situation makes you feel weird and not in the 'oh this might lead to some really hot sex' kind of way.

"I like you." He states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I'm aware." As much as you'd love to sit here any longer, you're also not in any mood to play games with him. Not like this.

"So you know. And I know you like me. And I know we can't be in a relationship... but." He pauses, finally dropping his arms. "I don't know, this isn't going how I planned."

This fucking idiot.

"Not going as planned? How the hell did you think this was gonna go?" Sometimes it truly amazes you the kind of people you managed to live in the same house with.

"Not sure. Just not like this. Can we change the rules?" He asks, giving you his best, pleading smile. You can't help but scoff. He truly is on some other level.

"First of all, we're not changing any rule. Second of all, how dare you think you can trap me in your bedroom and expect me to somehow say yes to whatever weird proposition you're trying to make. Third of all, I do like you but I also know boundaries. This is a little extreme, Jimin." Nodding his head, he takes in your words, probably finding a way to get out of this situation.

"Okay. But can I at least tell you how I feel?"

"The floor is all yours." Shifting his weight between his feet, he pushes his bands out of his face. You already know you're in for quite the show.

"I know I have a really bad habit of saying this. But I mean it when I say it to you. That you are genuinely the most beautiful person I have ever met. And not just for looks. I mean of course, that but I mean otherwise too."

Oh boy.

"And even though I've been nothing but an asshole to you, and I have an awful tendency to bring girls over, I still believe it's true. Wow I sound pathetic. Okay," he pauses, licking his lips, "I know we can't date, but I think being around you has made me a better person."

Is he forreal?

"I don't want to mess around anymore. Hence why you haven't seen... her in a while."

"Do you even remember her name?" You interject, not buying a single word coming out of his mouth.

"I do, but that's not the point. As I was saying, I want to be better person even if it means we can't be in a relationship. At least not right now, I don't plan on living in this house forever."

Oh, he forreal, forreal.

"I just want you to know your feelings are reciprocated and had it not been for the rules, we probably would have spent an eternity together."

"Alright, this was fun, thank you for letting me know how you feel. I'm glad we got to have this talk, and yes, even though we can't date, it was lovely getting to understand your point of view. I'm glad you want to become a better person, and I hope you continue on that path." Sitting up from his bed, you try your best not to laugh. Whatever exchange that was, it really put the nail in the coffin regarding your diminished feelings. You had known a while ago that whatever feelings you had would inevitably lead you nowhere. Either that or to heartbreak. And seeing him now, you are relieved knowing that in the end, Yoongi was right. Jimin just isn't the one meant for you.

Closing the door behind you, not bothering to hear another word, you make your way into your own sanctuary. Except when you open the door, you are met with another set of eyes illuminated solely by the nightlight that resides underneath your desk.

"Jesus Christ Jungkook! I could have had a heart attack!" With your hand on your chest, you lean back against the door, hoping at least it will keep you upright.

"Sorry, I needed to ask you about details for this weekend and I didn't want to interrupt. I heard everything, that was. fucking. awful." He whispers, emphasizing his last words. Which, to be fair, isn't wrong. It was truly one of the most awful conversations you'd ever had with Jimin.

"I mean yeah you're right, it was awful. I'm glad I'm not the only one who felt that deep in their soul. But what did you want to talk about?" You ask, sitting on the bed next to him. The last thing you want to do is talk more about what had transpired in the other room. You’re definitely taking that to your grave.

"Right, so it's a nice restaurant and everything and it's probably expected that we dress formally right, and honestly, I have no idea what your closet looks like and considering the reservation is for tomorrow, I wasn't sure you'd be prepared soooo..." He pauses, reaching to the side of the bed, "I bought you something."

"Jungkook! No!" Although he is right, you don't really have anything expensive to wear per se, but you never considered the idea that he would actually buy you something.

"I had it earlier, but I figured it didn't make sense to give it you if you weren't going to say yes." Handing it over, he rushes to turn on the light. In your lap is a large blue box etched with gold writing. It looks extremely expensive.

Opening the top, your first instinct is to cover your mouth. Inside the tissue, there lies a beautiful, sapphire dress, adorned with small beading along the bust line. It has spaghetti straps, not particularly your favorite, but at this point who are you to complain.

"Jungkook, this is gorgeous. How in the hell did you afford this?" You question is only answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You deserve it. Try it on." Standing up he wanders into your bathroom, closing the door.

"I'll wait in here! I just want to know that it fits, I kinda had to guess." If there's one thing he's good at, it's being cute, and for some reason, you just can't seem to get enough.

Taking off your clothes and putting on the dress, you're surprised when you look in the mirror to see that actually... it fits perfectly. Twirling around a few times, you watch as the train dances with you, the embroidery along the bust sparkling against your bedroom lights. The dress is velvet, extremely soft against your skin, and for once in your life, you actually feel glamorous. If only your hair and face matched, you might have just asked yourself out.

"You done?" He questions through the door. Even though he's the one who bought it for you, you're a little nervous for him to see you in it. When it comes to your body, you've never been the most confident, but considering how stunning you look even in your own humble opinion, you only predict that he might find it lovely as well.

"Yeah I'm ready." When the door opens slowly, you notice he has his hand over his eyes, the other being used to navigate his way around.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I want to be really surprised, that's all. I already know you look great, but it’s more fun this way." You can't help but scoff at his remark, his smooth words soothing the anxiety pooling in your chest.

"You can open them now." You coax, hoping that by doing so you can get this entire thing over with.

Removing his hand, he looks up at you, only for his smile to disappear entirely. For a moment you begin to panic, the fact that he hasn't said a word only stressing you out.

"Jungkook? What do you think?" When he doesn't respond, you're seconds away from calling everything off. You feel embarrassed and slightly humiliated.

"I-... sorry I just don't have words? To express how beautiful you look? Wait I don't mean to phrase that as a question, but really, you look stunning. More than that. Shit, Sofi what's a better word for stunning."

"OK, I found this on the web for 'what's a better word for stunning':"

"Dammit, Sofi, you're useless." Tossing his phone behind him, he can only stare at you. Glancing between your back and your image in the mirror, he can't seem to tear his eyes away.

"Definitely wear that tomorrow. It's perfect. I have a matching tie, we'll be the best dressed there guaranteed." He says, his vibrant smile returning to his features.

Turning around, you immediately run to give him a hug. Everything about this Valentine's Day seems to be falling into place.

"Thank you..." Hugging you back, he instinctively pulls you into his lap. Neither of you say anything, instead relishing in each other's presence. For a while you stay just like that, at least until you get a glimpse of the clock.

"Holy shit, it's 1? Where did the time go, wasn't it just 9?"

"I don't know what planet you're living on," he responds, "but it was nine ages ago." Rolling your eyes, you remove yourself from his lap. Despite the excitement still coursing through your veins, you know that in order to be a functioning human, you need to get your sleep. And besides, you have a lot of preparation to do for the evening. Especially on those legs of yours.

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning, yeah?" You hope he catches the hint.

"Oh, yeah. Sounds good." Wiping his hands on his sweats, he gets up from the bed. However, before leaving, he can't help but take one last glance at you. The glint in his eyes is almost bewitching, the way pure joy radiates from his expression being too much for your weak heart. After sending him off with a smile, he carefully exits your room, finally leaving you to your own devices. It would be an understatement to say you are excited for tomorrow, but more than anything, you're exhausted. After changing into sleep attire, all it takes is for head to hit the pillow before you whisked to sleep, the teddy bear clutched within your grasp.

Getting ready for the dinner was an adventure in itself, coordinating ways to sneak out of the house so that neither Yoongi nor Jimin were suspicious of your activities. But from the way you had spent nearly seven hours in your room, pampering to the nines with a bubble bath and face mask treatment included, Yoongi was already suspicious of you. However, convincing him that it was something you desperately needed didn’t take much effort, a fact to which he quickly agreed.

“Are you excited?” Jungkook asks, holding your hand across the center console.

“A little nervous, honestly. What if people stare at me?”

“And what if they do? It’s because you’re gorgeous, trust me. You haven’t a thing to worry about.” Despite feeling hesitant, you know to trust his words. No matter what happens, he will take care of you, a promise he had made right before you had left.

The drive to the restaurant is relatively short, making it to the lake taking only twenty minutes. Much to your surprise, Jungkook manages to find the right place with little help of his phone, relying solely on his memory to take the right turns. When the valet comes to open the door, you can’t help but feel like royalty. Even the staff, greeting patrons with warm towels outside the door, are dressed exquisitely well.

With Jungkook finally at your side, he intertwines his fingers with yours. The excitement on his face becomes contagious, no longer able to hide your smile. Everything is starting to come together – the attire, the scenery, the date. If only you could relax a little more, you might be able to make it through the main doors without inevitably passing out. Taking a deep breath, you finally ascend the set of stairs, accepting the hot towel without so much as a problem. Walking into the restaurant is like walking into a castle, everything adorned with gold, various paintings hanging on the wall. He wasn’t kidding when he said the restaurant screamed expensive. You’re certain you can’t afford to even look the place.

“Reservation under Jeon Jungkook.” Squeezing his hand, you try to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Every part of you feels like it’s about to explode, the realization that this isn’t just a dream. This is real life.

“Right this way.” As the host leads you down the hallway and into the large dining area, you quickly find yourself lost in a maze. Unlike the outside, the inside is massive, several dining rooms contained within this one building. Each room had its own theme, set with its own wallpaper and various works of art. Upon traveling into the room with navy, one that seemed to complement your dress nicely, you find yourself starting to get sick with anticipation. You just want to sit down.

Finally making it to your table, the menus set in front of you, you feel as though you can finally breathe. Even Jungkook notices the way you relax once the host disappears from sight.

“You gonna be okay?” He asks, raising a brow. Nodding your head, you can’t seem to find your voice. All day you’ve been focused on the food, and now that you’re finally here, you can’t wait to dig in. Opening the menu, everything is as you expected. No prices.

“Get whatever you want. Everything is on me tonight.”

Dinner had gone smoothly, everything coming out perfect. Both you and Jungkook decided to get separate dishes, sharing as much as possible to get the full experience. Even having glasses of wine, him only one and you, well, quite a few, only added to the ambiance of it all. It was the nicest place you’d ever stepped foot in and probably forever will be. And now you have a beautiful and expensive dress to add to the collection of clothes you will never be able to wear again.

“I’m so tired, that was so good. Let’s go back there again.” Hitting his arm in disbelief, you wonder how he could even suggest blowing that kind of money again.

“As much as I loved it, please don’t ever spend money like that again. I will literally cook whatever you want.” Taking the thought into consideration, he looks between you and the road.

“Sounds promising. But not the same.” The shit-eating grin on his face is only one small indication of his slightly sadistic behavior, loving to watch money fly out of his bank account somehow becoming his favorite thing. You will never understand him, not that you ever think you could, but you still can’t help but appreciate the sincerity behind his actions.

The drive home is quiet, basking in the sights of the night sky and the moon. Both of you are exhausted, despite not having done much at all, the thought of just lying in bed more enticing than anything else.

Parking in the driveway, you try to close the door as quietly as possible. More than likely, the other two are awake, and the last thing you need is to be berated with questions. Once inside, Jungkook gracefully returning his keys to the proper spot, he grabs your wrist and leads you in the direction of his bedroom. Neither Jimin nor Yoongi seem to be around, making your transition back into normal life that much easier.

With you both inside, he quietly closes and locks the door. Taking a glance at each other, you can only smile, the day being far more eventful than you could have imagined. Removing your heels and your jewelry, you set everything aside in the corner of the room, immediately plopping onto the bed. Just like before, your body melts into the mattress, only this time, you don’t feel as awkward.

“Tired already?” Climbing onto the bed beside you, he begins massaging your back, his tender hands doing wonders on your muscles.

“That feels so good… please don’t stop…” Just the simple act of his hands on your back is enough to lull you to sleep.

“Com’ere.” Just when you thought you were going to be able to rest, Jungkook moves away from you toward the head of the bed. You were really banking on a full blown massage, but you suppose that might have been too much to ask for considering all he’s done for you in the first place.

Lifting yourself up, crawl toward him on the bed, hating the way your body aches in response to the movement.

“Lie down and close your eyes.” As if he had to tell you twice.

Placing a pillow over your face, you wait patiently as he gets up and moves around the room. From different areas you hear him rummaging through various bags, the sound of clicking quickly followed by strings of profanities.

“So romantic.” You comment, laughing at his odd behavior.

“One moment, I promise I’m almost done.”

Counting backwards in your head, you try to keep yourself preoccupied, hoping you don’t fall asleep before he even gets the chance to reveal the surprise. That would be something that would only happen to you of all people.

“Okay aaaand, done!”

Tossing the pillow aside, you sit up and open your eyes only to be met with an array of candles surrounding the room. Beside you on the bed, there are various rose petals, a combination of red, pink and white.

Everything is straight out of a movie, picturesque in the way it’s simple, yet romantic.

“Jungkook… why are you so good to me?” You’ve never experienced such genuine acts of kindness in your life, never once having been courted nearly as much as you have been with him. The fact that he’s gone to such an extent for someone he’s not even in a relationship with is still baffling. The idea that you are on the receiving end of it even more so.

“I… I like you. I like you a lot and I think you deserve the world. And even though I can’t give that to you, I hope this in some way shows my appreciation.” Just listening to his words is enough to nearly bring you to tears, the exhaustion mixed with his adorable nature only adding fuel to the fire. You are so soft, especially for him, that you aren’t sure how you are going to move forward from this. He won over your heart, in its entirety. How were you possibly going to explain that?

“I want to show you… how much I care for you. May I?” Never before have you been asked such a question, but considering it’s Jungkook, this is something you wouldn’t put past him. He is the sweetest person to ever exist, and yet you are only just discovering the fact.

“Yes… please.” With a gentle smile, he joins you on the bed, holding you as close to him as possible. As he gently strokes your hair, you can only admire his features in the dim lighting, appreciative of the fact that he is here with you.

Leaning back onto the pillow, he pulls you forward, staring directly into your eyes. Everything about this feels surreal, from the lighting of the candles, to the rose petals strewn across the bed. To you, the entire night has been nothing but perfect.

“Are you ready?” He asks gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. Despite the nerves starting to get to you, you nod in response. You are so nervous, it seems, that you didn’t even notice your death grip on the comfort.

Running his fingers along your arm, he tries to reassure you. “It’s okay, don’t be nervous. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” Leaning forward, he captures your lips in his, moving slowly to adjust to your taste. At first, you can’t help but feel stiff, it having been far too long since you��ve opened yourself up enough to kiss someone. But as he guides you through the process, carefully rubbing your back, you find yourself relaxing into him. But when you feel your breasts against his chest, you quickly pull away, the feeling having become entirely foreign.

“Ah sorry, I just forgot how that feels…” Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you mentally scold yourself for coming off like an idiot. At this point in your life, you think you would be able to get your nipples touched without creating a scene.

“It’s okay. Let me help.” Taking the spaghetti straps of the dress, he slides them down your shoulders, exposing the hardened buds. Very gently, he uses his fingers to graze them, allowing you to readjust to the new sensation. You had really considered the idea that it hadn’t been that long since you last had any sexual interactions, but based on the way your body seems to be reacting to Jungkook, you are convinced that it has been far longer than you had thought.

For a while he continues his ministrations, pleasure starting to take over your senses as you lean into his touch. Never before have your nipples been this sensitive.

When he suddenly stops, a whine immediately falls from your lips. You had been enjoying yourself so much that you nearly forgot this was just the beginning. Placing his hands on your cheeks, he pulls you into him to continue where he left off. This time around, you find your rhythm almost immediately, molding your lips with his. Unlike others you have kissed, his lips are extremely soft, making his kisses much more delicate. He feels like heaven against your own. As everything progresses, he moves his hands so that one is on your thigh, the other on the small of your back. Grabbing at the fabric of the dress, he tries to pull you closer, never once breaking contact. However, with it having been so long, your ability to hold your breath no longer serves you, and not soon after, you have to break away for air.

“We should probably get this off you… it wasn’t cheap ya know.” He gently suggests with a smile, grabbing the train of the dress and slowly lifting it up and over your head. Normally, you would have done it yourself, but considering he takes so much pride in his gift, you allow him do as he wishes.

Gently setting it aside, making sure it is out of the way, he returns his attention to you. Only this time his attention has faltered slightly, choosing instead to focus on unchartered territory.

“White lace? How fitting for an angel.” As much as you would have liked to scold him for his choice of words, you know you had set yourself up for that one.

“Hush…” You can’t help but shy away from him, everything he does only turning you into sappy mush.

Just as he’s about to lean in for another kiss, you instinctively go to take off his shirt. Unfortunately for him, and you suppose you as well, you miscalculate the distance, ultimately head butting him in the face. In horror, you cradle his cheeks to check the damage, but when he only has a small smile on his face, you are left both concerned and confused.

“I’m so sorry, I’m such a mess, are you okay?” Taking your hand, he kisses along your knuckles, making sure not to break eye contact with you.

“Yes I’m fine, don’t worry,” He reassures, placing your hand at the bottom of his dress shirt, “come take it off.” His seductive tone only melts you to your core, every reservation you had now being pushed aside for what you can finally say is a willingness to let him take control.

Doing as you were told, you unbutton it one by one, taking extreme care as to not fuck up anything else. You were already nervous, but now you are entirely on edge to the point where you can’t even stop your hands from shaking. Pretending not to notice, he allows you to continue at your own pace, so entranced by the concentrated look on your face that he doesn’t even realize you had finished the last one.

Leaning forward, he allows you to remove the rest. You try your best to be gentle, but the excitement mixed with fear is doing nothing to help you. Everything you touch feels expensive, him included, and the last thing you want is to ruin the clothing he has worked so hard to afford. And just when you thought things couldn’t get better, you are met with the image of toned muscles, the faint lining of his six-pack barely visible in the dim lighting. This entire time, underneath his clothes, he’s been hiding this kind of body. Considering you’ve never seen him work out, you figure he might just be naturally gifted, either that or he just does it in the privacy of his own room.

With the shirt finally out of the way, he pulls you closer until you are nearly lying on top of him.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He questions, squeezing you tightly.

“So I’ve been told.” Your abilities to respond to compliments have always been questionable, and even amidst sex, you can’t seem to pull your act together. Luckily for you, he finds your sense of humor adorable. Or at the very least, entertaining.

Returning his attention to your body, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The moans that escape the borders of your lips are suddenly cut short, his hand being gently placed over your mouth.

“The rules, remember?” Despite having warned you, he continues to attack your breast with little to no mercy, removing his hand to give some attention to the other nipple. Caught between pleasure and fear, you try to withhold the sounds from escaping. Just as you suspected, it’s much harder when the person you’re with knows what they’re doing. And Jungkook seems to know this game very well.

Removing himself with a muffled pop, he gently flips you over until you are lying down on your back.

“Let me pleasure you.” He says, leaving one final kiss upon your lips.

Nodding your head, you allow him to do as he pleases, watching as he leaves a trail of kisses down the length of your torso. Upon reaching your lower half, you can’t help but squirm slightly, the anticipation already killing you before he even begins.

Placing kisses along the waistband of your panties, you can already feel the arousal starting to stick to them. He hasn’t much of anything and yet he has you wrapped around his finger. Pulling them down gently, he exposes your womanhood, licking a strip from your entrance to your clit. Despite trying to mentally prepare yourself, you find yourself unable to control the groan that escapes past your clenched teeth. Using your hand to cover your own mouth, you squirm underneath his touch as he places two fingers against your clit. Your underwear, having been ditched at your ankles, becomes long forgotten the moment he begins his fingers in circles. Moving agonizingly slow, he watches in fascination as you try to keep yourself together, bucking your hips every now and then to chase the stimulation.

Switching out his fingers, he returns his mouth to your bud, nothing but cat licks coaxing you to the edge. Having his mouth on you is driving you insane, more pleasurable than you ever could have imagined. The way he sucks on you, using his fingers to tease your entrance is enough to nearly put you out of commission. Clearly you had forgotten just how good sex can really be. Or maybe it’s just him.

Removing himself from your core, he returns to the head of the bed. Unable to control your desires, you place your hands on his cheeks, pulling him toward you and against your lips. The taste of your own arousal turns you on more, the thoughts of what else is to come only fueling your impatience.

Reaching between you, you aim for his belt, the angle suddenly making it awkward to pull it through the loops.

“Having a rough time there?” His mocking nature only eggs you on more, the determination to remove his pants that much stronger.

Using both hands, you manage to finally get the belt undone, next unzipping with so much vigor that for a moment, you genuinely thought you broke it. Doing you a favor, he finishes the job, removing his underwear along with them, only to be tossed to the side.

With his erection finally free from the constraints, you get the chance to admire him up close. Everything about him is perfect, no surprise that he is also well endowed.

“Like what you see?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.

“Of course.” It would have been a lie to say otherwise, not that you would ever need to fabricate the truth.

Readjusting himself above you, he lines his erection with your entrance. Holding your breath, you remain still while he slides himself in, the stretching of your walls being something you haven’t felt in quite some time.

“Still doing okay? Does it hurt?” Shaking your head, your try to get him to continue. The slower he is, the longer it will take to fully adjust, and considering how badly you wish for him to make love to you, you’re surprised you’ve managed to hold out for this long.

Finally finding his pace, he continues to leave his mark along your neck. You try your best to bite your tongue, knowing full well what will happen if you manage to get caught. But as he increases his pace, holding it in might much more difficult.

“Moan in my ear,” he whispers against your jaw, “don’t hold it in. Let me hear you.” Just when you thought you were going to make it out alive, his words only coax out every moan from within you. Not soon after, his thrusts become quicker and more sloppy, the sound of skin against skin reverberating off the walls of his room. Digging your nails into his back, you try to chase your high, the biting against your neck doing nothing to aid in desire to keep quiet. When his thrusts become hard, bucking his hips into you, his name becomes a mantra on your lips, your vocalizations only becoming louder with every subsequent thrust. You are so close to your orgasm, the stars behind your eyelids only a small indication. The coil in your stomach finally snaps, a wave of euphoria washing over your entire body.

Feeling you come around him, he only lasts a few more before quickly pulling out, spilling his seed onto your stomach and your chest.

“Fuck.” Catching his breath, he sits up, wiping the film of sweat from his forehead. Neither of you are able to move, the physical expense of your activities finally taking their toll.

As much as you would have liked to admire his sweaty body all day, the cold beginning to set on your abdomen is only becoming more uncomfortable.

“Can I get a tissue or something?” Crashing back into reality, he hops from the bed, opening one of his dresser drawers. Pulling out a small towel, he returns to your side, taking it upon himself to clean the mess.

“So does this mean we’re dating now?” He asks, trying to keep a straight face.

“We can’t it’s against the rules.”

“I’m pretty sure you outed us with your moans. Might as well go all out you know?” As much as you hate to admit it, he has a point. You know exactly what kind of treat you’ll be in for tomorrow, disapproving looks to be received from both your other housemates.

You’d already managed to break two of the five rules, would it really hurt to break another?

#networkbangtan #bts writing squad #btswriters #bt-yes-network #armiesnet #bangtanbuds #bangtanwriters-net #boy group writers net #kreativewriters #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts crack #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #collab

4K notes · View notes

dreamhimcloser · 4 years

Text

7. Boyfriend!Jimin

That moment when one of you blurts out “I love you” as if it’s a time bomb that had to go off at that exact moment. And you both do this in your mind and heart.

Jimin x Reader, pg, 1,444 words.

Being in a relationship with your best friend was so easy. Like, every single day where you can wake up next to him, being goofy with him, doing everything you love only to return to the same bed with him – it's a gift. And it's a gift that keeps on giving as your lives weave together even more than before you were in a relationship, and suddenly, he smeared his colors sloppily over every aspect that is you.

Even your friends were over you already, huffing and puffing every time you slip into your shared little world in public. Namjoon even made a rule that stated you can't sit next to, in front of, and in any proximity to each other. The rule was hard to keep up with when less of your entire gang is present, but Jimin and you decided to uphold it perfectly to not lose all of your friends.

Though you'd probably be fine if you stay with no one but each other.

Your phone tore you away from your beloved procrastination as it vibrated, the screen flashing a picture of Jimin with cake smeared all over his face. You smiled at the memories it brought out of you as you answer.

"Babe," Jimin breaths hard in your ear. It's already gym time and you wrote less than 1000 words on your paper, wonderful. "Kook wants to push another squat set, you mind having a late dinner?"

"Eating later to reserve your mighty thighs? A sacrifice I'm willing to take."

Jimin laughs on the other end and beyond it you can hear Jungkook yelling something about his legs going limp. "That's my girl. I'll see you later, love you!"

A missing heartbeat later you were left in silence, with your eyes blown wide and your mind racing.

Did he just say the L word?

Did he just say the L word.

Jimin gripped his phone so hard he should have been worried about breaking the glass. He was too preoccupied with the fucking mistake he just made. The thing is, he's known for a few months now that he loved you, before you agreed to that first date. Then half-way through he realized you thought it was a friend date and he couldn't do anything to make you get the idea and he had to drop it on you like a bomb – over text because he's a coward and all that.

Back then, he could feel his love every time he looked at your smile.

He knew you needed time after that, seeing him as a boyfriend. Suddenly even holding hands and cuddling – two things that you used to do regularly – turned awkward and felt brand new. He's patient, when it comes to you he could take anything with a smile.

So every time he talked to you over the phone, his romantic instinct pushed for him to say that he loves you right before you say a small goodbye until the next time he can hear your voice. He always said it in his head, smiling at himself and feeling giddy.

He always said it in his head.

"Why are you still here? Do you enjoy watching my noodle legs losing muscle?"

Jimin just looked at Jungkook petrified, his friend observing him with a non-changing neutral expression.

"Wait," a slight frown takes over his face. "Did you just talk to Y/N?"

Jimin's nods made him feel like a robot starving for oil.

"Did you tell her you love her?"

With no way to utter words, Jimin nodded again faster and more desperate.

"Wow." Was all Jungkook said, before grabbing Jimin by the shoulders and guiding him to their squatting area. The panic coursing through Jimin's body made amazing stamina fuel, easily turning into adrenaline. He flexed his muscles like they could take back those three words and give him peace.

Jungkook was trying to make conversation while they were working, but his voice was nothing but background noise to the screaming in Jimin's head. What if you weren't ready for that yet? What if you felt pressured since you always knew that Jimin feels for you more than you feel for him? What if you could no longer think of your paper because you dreaded the moment he'll come home and you'll have to face him – what if you don't love him? What if you don't really see him as a man but as your friend – and it's okay to kiss your friend and maybe go a little farther – what if he is delusional and the two of you are more like friends with benefits?

What if you'll break up with him when he gets home.

"Jimin," Jungkook nearly screamed near his ear. Jimin was so startled he fell back right on his butt, thankfully on the padded met. "You were going like crazy man."

Jungkook's words resting his body for a second made the adrenaline fade to reveal how tightly pulled his muscles actually were. A cramp in his left thigh made him double over, curses flowing from his lips.

"Are you that stressed about saying you love her?" Jungkook laughed as Jimin planted his face in the mat, growling both at the pain and his friend making fun of him. "Dude, you've been dating for six months and are more glued to each other than you were as friends. No way she doesn't love you back by now."

Jimin let out another growl, throwing himself on his back to stare at the ceiling. "What if I scared her – "

"Nah man, you scared me," Jungkook jammed a finger at Jimin's cheek. "Y/N was way overdue, and she's probably better at these things than you." Jimin found his hope in Jungkook's encouragement. "At least when she asked you on a date you were aware of that." Alas, just like that hope was lost. "Don't worry so much, it's chill."

It definitely wasn't chill, but the pain in Jimin's leg subsided and he decided that if you were going to break up with him anyway, he should just take it and move on. He could find someone else to love – who he didn't know because he can't really see anyone but you being right for him.

He could do it though. Probably.

Jungkook gave up on trying to get into rhythm again, choosing to offer Jimin a ride home. Jimin accepted just because he thought he might overthink himself into missing his stop on the bus and this torture will take longer.

He hugged Jungkook's back, basking in the human closeness because god knows he might lose hugging you to sleep at night. And waking up with you holding onto him in the morning. Also goodbye kisses, you playing with his hair, watching a movie with you sitting between his legs.

He would be crying if the speed of the motorcycle didn't dry his eyes so much.

"Chim it'll be fine," Jungkook reassured him again as he took the helmet from him. Jimin almost whimpered, leaning in for another hug that Jungkook accepted with a sigh.

The way up to your shared apartment – oh god where is he going to live after you break up with him? – seemed longer than ever before. Even when he had a couch on his back it seemed easier.

Who says surprise I love yous? What a dork. What an idiotic dork.

Finally standing at the door, Jimin wished for time to just stop. That way he will never lose you and will ever have to deal with what's to come. Your voice infiltrating his mind, telling him that you'll grow up together until being grown-ups is not so scary, is the only thing that gave him the strength to punch in the code and enter.

You poked your head from the kitchen, a smile on your face. Jimin watched you closely as he couldn't trust you yet.

"I started the space heater in the bathroom like 10 minutes ago, so it should be toasty," you informed him, stepping out to lean against the kitchen doorframe.

"Thank you," Jimin said in a small voice, moving to walk past you. At least he could take one last shower here and whatever you were cooking smelled amazing, he hoped you'll allow him to eat.

"Hey babe?" He hummed, not quite expecting the hands that held his face and the lips that met his. "I love you too."

#bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #11bmir

28 notes · View notes

euphorianyx · 5 years

Text

Daddy Issues [Sunset] -29-

Pairing: JungKook & Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst Summary: A top student, marks always high. College was not a dream for her…Except she didn’t have enough money. Her parents never earned much so they literally took care of themselves. Her boss acting like a dick towards her she quit her job. Even though she had no idea what she let herself into this was her only option.

Other Chapters

Cha Kwon raised from his seat.

“Us dealing white is already the talk here and Kim NamJoon has evidence so we are done!”

Soon police started to walk around their side of the building and people were side-eyeing Kwon Cha and Kwon YoonHae. They were being taken to the police station and the press was already lined up to take pictures of them. The social media blew with their news. Pictures and thoughts were everywhere.

Seeing the mess and being informed about everything Father Jeon stormed into JungKook’s room. He was shooting bullets from his eyes.

“Care to explain what the hell are you doing?”

With the victory, JungKook had a big cocky smirk on his face.

“Why father? You did not like the way I took care of things?”

Father Jeon slammed his hand on JungKook’s mahogany desk.

“There is no way this will not rub on us. The kingdom will be ruined because of your impulsiveness.”

Trying to please his father literally all his life JungKook learned a lot. If he got the company into this he might as well get it out. He did not lose the smirk on his face which made his father even angrier than he already was.

“Do not worry father. Trust me for once, will you?”

Not being able to follow JungKook, Father Jeon arched an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t do anything reckless.”

It was the only threat he could throw since he had no control over this. JungKook called YugYeom to arrange a press conference. Sooner than expected reporters took their seat in the room. They left their microphones on the stand one by one. Standing by the door JungKook fixed his tie then casually walked in. Within his dark grey suit and black shirt, he managed to look chill yet intimidating. As soon as he stepped in, the room fell silent.

“Following the current events in the name of our company I felt the pressure to clarify a few things. We are surprised as much as everyone else. As an honest citizen of this country, we have done anything with utmost care but even we made mistakes. We could not notice the dirty games that were played beneath the surface. Trust is a crucial point in our work and sadly we trusted the wrong people. To assure you I would like to remind, we have everything under record and will accept to go under investigation if its seen necessary. I hope everyone understands and keeps in mind we are not related to alleged crimes. Thank you for your consideration.”

When he returned from the press conference his father greeted him by the door with his hands in his pockets.

“Playing the victim, huh? I really underestimated you but have you ever thought what if society wants an investigation? What are we going to do?”

JungKook arched an eyebrow at him.

“Did we do anything that we would be ashamed of?”

Without waiting for any response JungKook walked past his father.

NamJoon was all prepared when the investigation started. He worked with police and pointed out every single fault one by one. Soon he was meeting with YoonHae. With handcuffs and no make up on her face she lost all her glory.

“I know why you did this NamJoon.”

Fixing his light beige jacket NamJoon stared down at YoonHae behind his glasses then sat down across her. The small square table was the only thing separated them.

“For revenge, you think?”

YoonHae simply nodded.

“Ever thought things could be all different?”

YoonHae looked down.

“I should not have played with you.”

NamJoon bit down his lip.

“Have you ever loved anyone other than JungKook?”

Not like her usual bossy self, she tore her eyes from NamJoon. They were all teary when she looked up again.

“Listen if there is a way for you to bail me out I will do anything you want.”

NamJoon squinted his eyes. It was the first time YoonHae seemed this desperate. NamJoon paid a cold stare with no sign of pity.

“Funny because you are exactly where I want you to be so I would rather you stay there.”

With that NamJoon left his seat and YoonHae behind him as he walked out.

The council requested an emergency meeting which JungKook was going to lead. Hair perfectly pushed back and glasses fixed JungKook was all ready. He checked his Armani watch before it all started. When he walked inside the elderly men were all sat by the oval glass table inside the meeting room.

“Gentlemen”

JungKook greeted them all with his deep voice. Their eyes sharply followed his every single move like a hawk.

“In the light of current events our companies are all under the pressure but I suggest you stay calm.”

Jang Ahn Hyo spoke with a mocking tone.

“Calm?! Our stocks are all dying...”

JungKook let out a cool smile.

“I reassure you it will not take long.”

Jeon Sang let out an annoying chuckle.

“Even if they go back to their old rate our economic loss is nonnegligible.”

JungKook kept his poker face but reminded himself to get rid of them as soon as the storm died down. Voice calm he explained.

“If your brilliant idea is splitting up I suggest you think twice. Our stocks support each other and if we split them up there won’t be a pool for support.”

With the endless complaints, the meeting was sure tiring for JungKook. When the elders were finally convinced and the foxes still thought their benefit is keeping the chain, he sighed in relief. The weight was not completely gone but you were waiting at home to take the rest off.

Greeting him by the door you could tell he was tired. You have seen the news and it was easy to tell it has been rough. When you walked towards him JungKook wrapped his arms around you and buried his head to your neck. You could feel his deep inhale.

“How about a massage?”

You asked as your melodic voice filled his ear. JungKook simply nodded without talking. Taking his hand you led him upstairs. Making the way to your so-called room you gently sat JungKook down on the bed. Undoing his shirts buttons one by one you peeled it off. His eyes were following your every single move as you unbuckled his belt. Letting your fingers ghost on his thick thighs you pulled his pants down.

Licking his lips JungKook, faced down on the bed. Grabbing some oil from the drawer you let a few drops of it lubricate your hands. When your fingers touched his shoulders a small smile took place on his lips. With slow yet steady moves you felt his muscles relaxing under your fingertips. Utmost care on his strained shoulder blades you slowly made your way down.

With kisses on his shoulder, your hands slowly moved down to his waist. Soon it was hard to keep his eyes open. You stopped for a moment then realized he fell asleep. Seeing him in peace next to you was a relief. You let your fingers travel within his dark hair.

With a sigh, he turned and literally threw his arm around you. Making yourself comfortable under his weight you drifted into a sweet sleep. By the morning the sunlight woke you up only to find JungKook watching you. His hand was on your hip while the other was supporting his head. Confused you arched an eyebrow.

“This bed seems more comfortable than mine lately.”

He kept a poker face but your bright smile still touched his heart.

“I hope you do not mind having breakfast here.”

JungKook shrugged but was surprised when you slipped away from him. His hand grabbed the empty air while you giggled.

“I will prepare.”

With that, you rushed out. Swaying around the kitchen you cooked eggs with bacon, sliced some tomatoes and cucumbers. Picking three types of your favorite cheeses you put them on a separate plate. Picking two small bowls you put honey and strawberry jam. Lastly, you added black and green olives.

JungKook had his breakfast regularly but he was surely picky. You were not sure if he would like what you have prepared but hoped he would. Placing his coffee next to the plates you grabbed the tray but were almost dropping it when you saw JungKook by the door. You pouted.

“I told you to stay in bed.”

JungKook arched an eyebrow.

“Should I remind you are the one that will listen to what I say.”

Then he grabbed the tray to place it on the table. When one of the maids saw him like that her eyes were twice their size. She literally runs towards you, looking down in embarrassment.

“Sorry, sir we were going to prepare breakfast.”

Her fear was flowing from her pose. Though JungKook just told her to leave so you could be alone. The breakfast passed within a comfortable silence until JungKook broke it.

“I still don’t know how this all will end Y/N.”

You placed your hand on his.

“I am sure you will find a way.”

JungKook played with your fingers as he sighed.

“What if I can’t”

He was surprised to see a small smile playing on your lips.

“Then we will leave. A small house in a quiet town is more than enough.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead then wrapped his arms around you. In the end, you were still the woman he fell in love with. Not even thinking of losing anything and ready to go anywhere with him.

Watching the news Jimin caressed his jaw. Not drifting his eyes away from the big screen of the tv he grabbed his phone. When he checked the stock he realized Jeons’ were still high. Not pleased Jimin pulled his tie harshly.

“He found a way out huh?”

Hugging him from the back Ji Hyo tried to calm Jimin down a little bit.

“Don’t you think its time to pull out the old weapons?”

Jimin arched his eyebrows.

“The contract is terminated already its no use.”

Ji Hyo sighed.

“Legally yes but imagine if it spreads around that he practically has a slave what would people think?”

Jimin grabbed his phone to call someone so he could give the big news.

Next Chapter

219 notes · View notes

ggukbabyy · 5 years

Text

feel real; jeongguk

summary☞ Jeongguk has feelings for you and he’s sick of not knowing if you feel the same or not. Gets a little smutty

This is completely inspired by the song Feel Real by Deptford Goth.

~~~

They sit stationary in the car watching as the water flows by in the darkness, the dots of light from the bridge and the occasional street lights providing only slight visibility. Tension fills the air. It’s thick and choking and they can both feel it, coiling around their throats about to squeeze tight to cut off their air supply, a snake strangling its prey. Jeongguk rubs his sweaty palms against the rough material of his black jeans. She starts up a conversation, talking about nothing in particular - the details of her engineering course, how infrastructure is actually really interesting - but Jeongguk can barely hear what she’s saying. He’s staring at her lips, watching her mouth form words and how she doesn’t seem to face him as she’s talking. The light around them casts a yellow tint, her face in the darkness as she leans back. He reaches over and gently touched her cheek, bringing her face around to look at him. Her eyes widen in response and she stops what she’s saying about rebars, finally focusing her attention on Jeongguk. A deep breath, his chest heaves with it and she can’t help but feel vulnerable and exposed under his gaze. It’s like everything about her is laid bare when he looks at her like that - not even at her but into her. Like he’s searching, but for what she has never been privy to. And it’s not the first time this has happened either. There have been moments, during their friendship, that makes her question what it actually is that the two of them have together. He looks past the surface level persona she projects, deeper into who she really is, what she wants and desires, what causes pain and the things she never thought she’d say out loud. It’s like he sees them all.

She goes to speak but words fail her at the last second. He gives one last stroke of his thumb against her cheek before pulling his hand back into his own lap. Now he is the one that’s facing forward, refusing to meet the gaze of the other. She has no idea what to say so she remains silent, letting it do all the talking for her. Jeongguk’s head is bent down, watching his fingers as he fidgets with them. Finally he lifts his head and looks straight out at the river, rolling by at a leisurely pace, it's dark depths hidden out of sight. He finally breaks the silence.

“You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” She has no idea what to say back, completely caught off guard. Instead, she stays quiet. He puts his head back against the headrest, blowing out a puff of air that sounds half like a chuckle, half like a strangled groan, continuing to look down at his hands. “I don’t know what to do around you. I get tongue-tied and verbal diarrhoea all at the same time and I end up sounding like I’m having a stroke. I want to be near you but when I am, I feel like I’ve been set on fire, like all my nerves are exposed and you brush past and don’t even notice that you’ve knocked me off my feet and I’m sprawled on my back, gasping for breath like I’ve been drowning for a lifetime and have finally come up for air.” He seems to be getting into his stride now, words flowing faster as he becomes more sure of himself, more sure of what he wants to say. Turning in his seat, he faces her for the first time since he began talking. Shocked into silence, she continues to sit there, watching as Jeongguk’s expression turns slightly desperate and a little resigned.

“I need to know if you feel the same way about me because I can’t keep going like this - like we’re friends but not really. I feel like I’m going to explode every time you get close enough for me to smell your perfume and shampoo mixing together and choking all the sense out of my body. And you touch me in ways that I’ve never seen you touch your other friends. Sometimes you look at me like there’s something else, something more, but then you brush it off and it makes me feel like I’m imagining things out of wishful thinking. I need to know.”

Her silence is killing him. Even her face isn’t giving anything away. Her features remain serious, taking in everything that he has said. When she reaches for his hand he can feel the hope spreading in his chest. He’s doing his best to squash it down, to remind himself that she could just be taking his hand to make the crushing rejection less hurtful. She pulls his hand forward towards her face and he opens his hand so that he can cup her cheek in the way she’s silently instructing. Placing her hand over his, she nuzzles into his touch, eyes closed and looking so content with the warmth of his hand. Gentle kisses are placed on the space below his thumb and Jeongguk practically melts into the chair. Her lips are like velvet, smooth and soft. His mind instantly imagines what it would feel like to have those lips against his own. After what feels like so long and yet not long enough at all, she opens her eyes and looks at him, taking her lips away from his hands. Oxygen seems to have eluded him with the way he hasn’t managed to take a proper breath since she took his hand.

“Jeongguk.” The way she said his name has his stomach flipping. The tone of her voice, the look in her eyes, the way she was touching him; she was saying yes. She felt the same.

He moves his hand further round so that his fingers are at the back of her neck, and then he’s moving forward and she’s moving forward too. They pause when their lips are just centimeters apart, breaths mingling, noses touching, the closest they have ever been to something like this. This isn’t toeing the line between friendship and something more; this is standing on the edge of a precipice ready to hurl yourself into the abyss without knowing what’s below, hoping that something catches you before you hit the bottom.

“If you don’t say it then I won’t believe that it’s real. So before I kiss you, I need to hear you say it.” Jeongguk’s voice has a desperate edge to it, like he’s using every single ounce of his willpower to hold himself back. He still doesn’t believe that you want this and until the words come out of your mouth, it will all just be in his head - a fantasy.

“I feel the same, I’ve felt the same sin-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Jeongguk closes the space between them and then they’re kissing. Tension that has been building finally snaps and it’s like he can breathe again, the serpent strangling the breath out of him finally ceasing it’s torture. Just as he had thought, her lips were soft as velvet and kissing her was heaven. Nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of having the girl of his dreams kissing him back, putting her hand on the side of his face and pulling him closer. Testing the waters, he barely brushes his tongue along her lip, silently questioning her. The warmth of his tongue makes her heart briefly stop in her chest and she knows what he’s asking. She answers and opens her mouth slightly, both of their tongues touching just enough to feel the warmth of one another, still both a little nervous. The next time, their mouths open a little wider, both in sync with each other. Jeongguk can feel the wetness of her tongue as it briefly slides over his own and can smell her shampoo as his hands wind deeper into her hair.

The kisses get more heated, Jeongguk’s hands are roaming over her torso, trying to pull her as close as he can with the centre console in the way. She releases small sighs whenever he tightens his grip on her waist or when his teeth tug on her lip as they pull away from each other. She feels like she has been starved and only now is she allowed to indulge in what she’s craved for so long. With every kiss, every swipe of tongue and wandering touch she realises she’s insatiable.

“This isn’t going to work.” She pants and Jeongguk can feel his heart fall all the way down to his feet. He knew it was too good to be true, he’s so stupid to believe that she would ever even consider-

He’s quickly pulled from his fear as she begins to climb over the console and into the back of the car. Oh. Oh. He follows suit, getting out of the driver’s seat and opening the door to the back. Slamming the door shut behind him, he's nestled between her legs in a second, wasting no time in pressing himself as close as he can get to every inch of her body. His tongue plays with her own, getting more frantic as Jeongguk lets his hands wander lower, brushing his knuckles over the strip of bare skin above her jeans before grabbing onto her thigh and pulling her hips towards his own.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he pants against her lips, trailing sloppy kisses down her neck, licking a strip up to her earlobe and taking it between his teeth. He tugs on it and then has to clench his teeth to stop from groaning when she squeezes him between her thighs, pushing his hardened bulge further between her legs. She moans at the feeling, hands in his hair, down is back, under his shirt just trying to feel every single part of him all at once. Desperate and needing all of him, needing not to be in the cramped back seat of his car, to be laid out on his plush bed, wrapped up in the scent of him where she can writhe and moan under Jeongguk’s mouth. Where he can move his mouth to somewhere other than her neck.

He's reaching his hand down the front of her jeans when all her thoughts suddenly stop. The first brush of his fingers makes her think that fucking in the back of his car seems like an amazing idea if it means he doesn’t take his hand away. He can finally feel her, parts of her that he never even considered she would let him touch. She feels so soft, so warm and welcoming to his fingers and she shifts so that her legs are open wider to give him better access. He knows this would be so much better if they weren’t in the back of his car and he knows he’s going to take her home, lay her down on his bed and give every inch of her body the attention that it deserves. He’ll take his time, get her whining and crying out for more, telling him not to stop, laid completely bare for him allowing him to touch her and feel her and love her. The way she moans in his ear makes him think that fucking in the back of his car seems like an amazing idea if it means she doesn’t stop moaning. But he uses every inch of willpower he possesses to take his hand out of her jeans and sit back. The whine she makes and the way she chases his hand with her hips when he does makes his dick twitch in his pants and his resolve crack. He leans down for a gentle kiss. Jeongguk doesn’t think that he will ever get used to the feeling of her lips on his own and he still cannot believe that this is real.

“I think it’s time we go back to my place.”

#btswriters #bangtanwriters-net #bts #jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bangtan #jeon jeongguk

631 notes · View notes

mysweetkittae · 2 years

Text

When The Sun Rises (Ch.17)

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Characters: Actor!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 4,797

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, mentions of past child neglect, mentions of past parental death, I promise there is happiness and hope in this.

Author’s Note: This story is fully written and will be updated weekly! It will also be posted on AO3 if you would prefer to read it there.

Summary: Everything felt numb, the heavy weight of nothingness having long found purchase in the spaces between Jungkook's ribs. It was all he knew – to run, so far away that his fears could never catch him – until one day he couldn’t anymore. Until one day there was nowhere left for him to run; nowhere left for him to hide. And then someone came along – kind and loving and patient, the wisps of the morning rays to illuminate his endless night sky – and suddenly Jungkook didn’t want to run anymore. For the first time in his life, he no longer wanted to hide – he just wanted to be free.

The first time Y/N came to visit Jungkook since they got back together was nerve-wracking, to say the least. Jungkook had managed to visit a number of times in the near six months it had been, even if they were only short weekend trips, but combined with the near daily calling or messaging, the two of them had quickly crossed whatever distance had formed between them.

The day had been spent hanging out with everyone, hopping from café to café until Jungkook and Y/N finally settled at home, curled up on the sofa under piles of blankets that were far too heavy for the season.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be missing this event?” Y/N asked as she looked up to his face, chin perched on his shoulder. “Networking is important.”

“I have networked enough for a hundred lifetimes, Y/N, I'd much rather be here with you.”

“But… priorities,” she pouted.

“Exactly; priorities,” Jungkook answered, pressing a series of gentle kisses to her forehead.

“Hey,” Jungkook mumbled, hours later with the moon high in the sky, arms still wrapped around the woman who owned his heart.

“Hmm?” Y/N replied sleepily, eyes slowly drifting closed.

“I love you. So, so much.”

“I love you more,” she whispered back, shifting until she lay comfortably on his chest.

☽ ☼ ☾

The second time Y/N visited it was easy, any fear from the previous visit completely non-existent. The morning was spent giggling over Jungkook's childhood stories with Namjoon and Kyungmin's parents whilst Jungkook was busy with a last-minute meeting, cheeks flushed when he finally came back to see Y/N wading in old embarrassing pictures of his. Many of the pictures he hadn’t even seen himself, finding out that they had been hidden in the attic with numerous other old photo albums.

The rest of the day was spent with the two of them reminiscing over their childhood, both pleasant and painful times shared with one another, forming a new memory that was filled with nothing but love and warmth.

☽ ☼ ☾

The third time she visited was not as easy, the knowledge of how little time they had together tainting every moment. It was getting harder, this long distance relationship thing. It was the only option they had right now, they both knew that well, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Their legs swung as they hung over the edge of the board walk, stars twinkling over the soft laps of the water.

“I feel so conflicted,” Y/N admitted, fingers pulling Jungkook's hand into her lap.

“About what?”

“Just… everything. I hate that we can't be together all the time but I also hate the thought of leaving my grandparents alone. I know that it’s a decision that’ll have to happen at some point but I just can't leave them right now. But then it’s not fair to you either and I just… I wish I could have everything at once. That way it wouldn’t be so hard to make a decision. Why can't everything just be simple?”

“I wish there was a simple answer, but no matter what we end up doing someone will have to make a big sacrifice, and that’s not something that’s going to be easy,” Jungkook answered solemnly, heart twinging at the way she looked so distraught.

“Well how do we decide?”

“I don’t know yet, but whatever we do we have to think about it carefully. We’ll discuss it properly this time, no repeats of last time.”

Y/N playfully elbowed his ribs at his response, small smile on her face. “Who would’ve guessed that communication was important in a relationship?”

“I know right? Never would’ve thought it,” Jungkook replied in jest, nudging her back.

Each touch lasted a little bit longer leading up to Y/N going back home, neither one wanting to be the first to let go. Y/N prayed that Jungkook hadn’t seen her tears as she left, knowing that it would only make it harder for him to see her so upset. But she couldn’t help it. Leaving was never an easy thing, but it had never been so difficult before. And this time… this time her heart was aching so desperately, lungs struggling to fully expand as the train moved further away. She was on her way back home, so why did it feel like she was getting further away from it?

She was usually good at hiding her emotions, perfected the art of masking the intensity of her pain from her grandparents, yet this time her heart was overflowing so vastly that even a stranger would know that she wasn’t okay. And her grandparents – well, they were the furthest thing from strangers, weren’t they? They knew everything there was to know about her, even if she didn’t know it herself. She was their whole world, the very star their entire lives revolved around. So when she turned up, eyes swollen and red, body shaking in their arms like a leaf in a storm, they knew that it was time.

“You miss him a lot, don’t you darling,” Y/N's grandma said matter-of-factly, rubbing her hand in circles over Y/N's back.

“Why does it hurt so much?” Y/N sobbed, fingers gripping tightly on her clothes.

“Because you love him, and it hurts to be away from your family,” her grandpa supplied softly.

“But you're my family too. It hurts so much to be away from either of you. What do I do? I can't leave you but I don’t want to leave him either.”

“Maybe… maybe you don’t have to choose,” her grandma said carefully.

“How though? We’re here and he's over there. I can't expect him to drop everything and move here and I can't just leave everything behind to go to him. It’s just this never ending cycle of sadness. I know we’ll have to figure something out eventually, but how?”

“Well,” her grandpa started, pulling her hand into his own, “we've actually been thinking about this for quite some time now and we… we think it’s time to sell the hotel.”

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed, words barely registering. “How could you even think of something like that?”

“Look, Y/N, we’re not getting younger. We’re getting weaker and we don’t have the energy to work as much anymore”

“I can do it! I can work more hours at the hotel while you guys rest, or-or we can hire another person to help,” Y/N supplied frantically, eyes flickering back and forth as her brain began working on different scenarios to make it work.

“And what about your bookshop? You already work more hours than can be considered healthy, if you spend more time at the hotel then how will you manage your shop?” Her grandpa questioned.

“I… I can sell it…” Y/N said slowly to herself, processing the thought before repeating it more firmly. “Yeah, I can easily sell the shop. It’s in a good location, it shouldn’t be much of a problem. And with the profits from that I'm sure we could hire someone else if necessary.”

“Y/N, stop,” her grandma said sternly, hand resting on her cheek to slow her down. “You will not sell your shop just to work more hours at the hotel.”

“But-”

“No. Listen, Y/N, we will not let you sell your precious shop just for our sake. Besides, the hotel doesn’t even make a large enough profit. Trust us, we put a lot of thought into this, and it just isn't worth it anymore.”

“But…”

“Honey, we know that the real reason you haven’t moved to the city yet is because of us.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” she consoled Y/N. “We know, and we appreciate it so much, but it’s finally time. If we all moved to the city then not only would it mean that we were closer to a hospital and wouldn’t have to travel as much as we have been for appointments, but it would mean that your business would do better, and, most importantly, you and Jungkook would finally live in the same city. It’s the perfect solution.”

“No… no. You're… you're only saying that because of me,” Y/N sniffed, palms wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “You can't sell this hotel, I won't let you. This is your dream, you’ve dedicated your whole life to this place. I can't let you just throw it away because of me. I won't be that selfish.” Y/N was almost fuming at this point, the thought of her grandparents wanting to throw their life’s work away just for her leaving her filled with rage.

“Y/N please, just listen to us,” her grandma begged, pulling her arm to sit her back down.

“I won't let you give up your dream for me,” Y/N mumbled quietly, a fresh batch of tears pricking her eyes.

“And what about your dream?” Her grandpa countered. “Y/N, as much as we love this hotel – it’s just a hotel. You are our dream, and we would do absolutely anything for you, just as you would for us. This building is not worth more to us than our own grandchild. Besides, even if you put all of that aside it’s still more logical to sell the hotel. We aren’t able to maintain it ourselves nor can we afford to hire more staff, and considering how few customers we get? It’s just not worth it anymore.”

“We just want to rest now,” her grandma said wearily. “We've spent our whole lives working, Y/N, we just want to relax and enjoy and do things we never got a chance to do whilst we still have some of our health left.”

“Are you really willing to move away from this place? Move away from my parents and all of the memories we have?” Y/N asked silently.

“Our memories will always stay with us, no matter where we go in the world. Besides, there's nothing stopping us from visiting anytime we want. This will always be our home.”

“I… I need some time to think about it,” Y/N requested, voice quiet and wary.

“Of course, take as much time as you need. And remember – whatever decision we make, we make as a family. We won't do anything unless everyone’s on board with it, okay?”

Y/N nodded, giving her grandparents tired kisses on their cheeks before dredging her feet across the floor as she made her way towards her room. Her first instinct had been to call Jungkook and tell him everything that had happened, but upon thinking about it she figured it would probably be better to wait. She wanted to properly think about it and form cohesive thoughts so that they could have a productive discussion, rather than her just blabbering nonsensically and going around in circles.

There was also the question of whether she should talk to Hoseok about it or wait until a decision had been made. If they moved, then this was something that would affect him too since he worked with them. She’d be more than happy for him to move with them so they could continue working together, but would he be willing to make such a big move? The last thing she wanted as to stress him out with something that might not even happen, yet they couldn’t make such a big decision without him since it would have a major impact on him. Groaning into her pillow with frustration, she figured that she would see what Jungkook thought about the situation tomorrow and work it out from there.

Thoughts swirled endlessly around her mind that night, trying to imagine various scenarios that could arise from the different choices. What her grandparents had suggested would be a good idea, she couldn’t deny that, but what she couldn’t shake was the immense guilt that overcame her whenever she thought about them giving up their precious hotel and moving away from this town just for her sake. Even if she moved away herself, it would be such a huge life change that she didn’t know if she could deal with it.

All of these worries were aired to Jungkook when she finally called him in the morning, knowing well that there was no way she’d be able to last the entire day without talking to him about it.

“No, I see where you're coming from. I mean I'm not gonna lie, the selfish part of me wants you all to come here so we can all be together all the time, but I'm also hesitant because what if they're doing this just because of me?” Jungkook voiced, frowning in concern at the possibility.

“That’s what I keep worrying about,” Y/N sighed tensely. “We both know how much they care about us, I wouldn’t put it past them to give up everything so that we can be happy.”

“Yeah, but then again they're not wrong about how they don’t have as much energy to run a hotel anymore. They deserve to rest.”

“I get that, and I'm not planning on forcing them to continue working, but just because they stop working doesn’t mean selling the hotel, right? Like I can take charge of it and we can hire people to help out. They don’t have to give up their dreams for us.”

“But it’s okay for you to give up your dream for them? The only way you could take over the hotel is if you sell your bookshop, and we all know how precious your shop is to you.”

“Well yeah, but not more important than them.”

“Isn't that how they feel about you? That you're more important to them than the hotel?”

“Ugh this is so frustrating!” Y/N groaned, flailing around in bed as her confusion only became more intense.

“Look,” Jungkook reassured, “this is a big decision. You don’t have to come up with an answer right now. Take more time to rationally think about it, list out the pros and cons, and then trust your instinct. And talk to Hoseok, okay? This involves him as well, plus it'll probably help to have his opinion since he's slightly more removed from the situation.”

“Yeah, you're right. I just wish I immediately knew what I wanted.”

“Life would be so much easier if it worked that way, would it?” Jungkook teased.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N said as she rolled her eyes, head throbbing from overthinking.

“Hey, Y/N?” Jungkook said after a moment, voice soft and careful.

“Hmm?”

“Whatever decision you end up making, don’t make it just for me.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked in confusion, propping herself up on her elbow.

“I don’t want all of you uprooting your entire life just because you think it’s the only way for us to be together. We’ll find a way to make this work, okay? Even if this isn't the answer, we’ll find a way eventually.”

She smiled adoringly, heart swelling at his sincerity. “I know. I promise you that if we do move, it'll be because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Good,” he smiled in relief. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

☽ ☼ ☾

“I'm not seeing what the problem is,” Hoseok said honestly, fingers digging at the crumbling grout of the wall they were perched on, legs swaying as they looked out to the water. “Do you not want to move to the city and be with him?”

“Of course I do, it’s not that.”

“Then? Do you want your grandparents to keep on working?”

“No I don’t want that either.”

“Then what is it that you want? Because as far as I can tell, this is the best case scenario,” Hoseok answered, eyeing the way her shoulders hunched over.

“I know…”

“So what is it? There's something else to this, isn't there?”

“I just… as much as I want to move to the city and start the next chapter of my life, I can't help but feel immense guilt. My whole life is here – my parents are here.”

Since their bodies had never been found, her family had always seen this ocean as their burial ground, so to leave them behind felt almost sinful.

“My parents loved this town and wanted to spend the rest of their lives here. When I was little I promised them that we would all live here together and be happy forever, but if I leave then it’s like I'm betraying them,” she sulked, pressing her fingers into the stone until it left indentations.

“People change, Y/N, and times change too. I'm sure your parents would understand that. I don’t think they would have wanted you to give it all up for a promise you made as a child,” Hoseok opposed.

“I know. And I know that they would want me to be happy and do what’s best for me – they always said that my happiness was more important than everything else – but I still feel so much guilt all the time,” she rued. “No matter what choice I make I will always have regrets, and I hate it.”

“That’s just how life works, I'm afraid. We constantly have to make choices, and sometimes those choices are really difficult.”

“So how do I choose?”

“You just have to listen to your gut.”

“My gut is telling me to throw up.”

Hoseok chuckled at Y/N's disdain. “Look, I'm not going to pretend that I know exactly how it feels to be in your situation, but what I can do is encourage you to do what I think is best for you – and Y/N, I truly, truly believe that this is what's right for you.”

“But what if it’s not?”

“Well, then you can always come back. This place will always be your home, and it’s not like anyone said that once you leave you can't ever come back. So go. Move with Jungkook and give it a solid chance, and if after that you feel like it’s not right for you, come back. You will always have a choice, Y/N, you just have to choose which ones to make.”

“How do you always know what to say?” Y/N sighed, fingers wrapped around her face.

“I work in a bookshop you know, that makes me super smart,” Hoseok chuckled, fixing his imaginary bowtie.

“Oh!” Y/N jolted, back straightening immediately. “That reminds me, I actually had something else I wanted to discuss with you.”

“W-what is it?” Hoseok asked nervously.

“Hoseok,” Y/N said seriously, clearing her throat and taking his hands into hers.

“W-what are you doing?”

“We’ve known each other for a while now and you know well that I trust you with my life.”

“What is happening?”

“I thought long and hard about this and discussed it at length with my grandparents too.”

“Y/N.”

“So let me ask you something-”

“Are you proposing?!”

“No, shut up. Jung Hoseok, will you be my business partner?”

“Will-what? Your what?”

“Will you be my business partner?”

“Yeah, what?!”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Because! This is a big commitment, Y/N, you are sure you want me to be your business partner?” Hoseok clarified, eyes having taken over half his face at this point.

“You're my best friend, Hoseok, we've been working together for years now and I meant it when I said I trusted you with my life.”

“But, still…”

“You're good at your job. You basically fulfil the role of a business partner anyway, this would just make it official really.”

Hoseok remained silent in his thoughts, brows furrowing as he contemplated the offer.

“Look, I've been thinking about this for some time now, even before the talks of moving happened, so this isn't some spur of the moment decision. If we stay here, I want to sign you onto the business, and if we move then I would love for you to come with us and be my business partner there. But there's no pressure whatsoever, I want you to know that. If we stay here and you want to continue just as you have been, that’s fine. If you want to move but not be my partner, that’s fine too. If you want to not work with me at all, whether we stay here or move, that’s fine too. Or if you decide you want to be my partner but then realise that you don’t actually want to then I'm okay with that. Or maybe even if you say no now but want it in the future, that would work too. Basically, the offer will always be there, it’s just up to you what you want to do with-”

Hoseok had pulled her into a crushing embrace before she had even gotten the last word out, heavy emotions weighing his heart down. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.

“For what?” Y/N laughed softly, reciprocating his hug.

“Everything. For being you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you did everything, Y/N. I don’t think you realise just how much you’ve helped me. You’ve been so understanding and accommodating, right from the beginning. You always pushed me to be my best without pushing me too far and making me uncomfortable. You took me in and made me a part of your family even though you had no obligation to. I have come so far in terms of my health, and it’s all because of you. If you asked me the same question when we first met, whether it was to become your business partner or to move to the city, I probably would’ve run in the opposite direction and locked myself away. But now? Honestly speaking, I'm excited. I mean I'm pretty terrified, don’t get me wrong, but the thought of doing something so cool with my best friend? It’s exciting.”

“Well since we’re professing our undying love for each other,” Y/N smiled as she pulled back from his arms, “I sincerely hope you know how precious you are to me. I truly, truly don’t know what I would do without you. You know that I never really had any friends until you and Jungkook came into my life, and if you weren’t by my side when everything happened? I don’t know how I would’ve coped. You were there for me, no matter what. You called me out when I was being ridiculous and you stood by my side when it felt like my entire world was collapsing. You're my best friend, in every sense of the word, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. I mean it when I say this: there is no one else I'd rather do this with than you.”

“Friends forever?” Hoseok asked, holding his pinkie finger out.

“Friends forever,” Y/N agreed, clasping her pinkie around his.

“And Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“You always have so much love to give to everyone else. All I hope is that you save some love for yourself too.”

☽ ☼ ☾

When the answer finally came to Y/N, it wasn’t like there was a sudden switch going off in her mind. She had been walking down the beach by herself again, hands tucked into her jacket pocket as she talked to her parents about what the right thing to do was, when she realised that thinking about leaving didn’t make her sad anymore.

And it was peaceful, the way her heart no longer lurched at the thought of not seeing this ocean every day. The longing hadn’t disappeared, but it wasn’t so vicious anymore, no longer feeling like it was clawing her heart to shreds.

Instead it was a gentle lull, pulling her heart to and fro, but always returning to the same place.

Peaceful.

Content.

Free.

I think I'm ready.

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Her grandma questioned.

“I'm sure,” Y/N answered resolutely. “I thought about this a lot and of all the different options and outcomes, and you were right. This is the best option, and I think it’s time.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you. I'm sure this wasn’t an easy decision.”

“No, it wasn’t, but it’s the right thing to do. And besides, like everyone said, it’s not like once we move we can't ever come back. This will always be our home.”

“Well I guess that’s settled then – we need to start the process of selling everything,” her granddad declared.

“Actually that was something I've also been thinking about,” she added. “I was taking a look at our finances and there's not long left on the mortgage for the hotel. If we rent it out then in a few years’ time the mortgage will have been paid off and it'll be a good source of income for you. Plus, it means that we don’t actually have to sell it, so it'll still be yours.”

“Will that be enough? Moving and opening up your new business won't be cheap – won't we need more money than just selling your shop?”

“I still need to properly discuss things with Jungkook to get all the details worked out, but I think it should be enough.”

☽ ☼ ☾

“I know you're going to say no,” Jungkook prefaced, moving his face closer to the phone screen during the video call, “but just hear me out first.”

Y/N nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“I pay for everything and you don’t have to worry about anything!”

“Nope,” she interjected, not even entertaining the thought for a second.

“But why?” Jungkook whined, frustrated that he she wasn’t letting him take care of her family.

“Because! I can't just let you pay for everything, Jungkook, that’s way too much.”

“But I love you,” he pouted, eyes falling in disappointment.

“And I love you too, Kookie, but you know I can't. If you were in my position would you accept an offer like that?”

“…No,” he grumbled.

“Then?”

“I know,” he sighed. “I just want to help you as much as I can. I love you so much and I only want the best for you.”

“I know, and trust me, I appreciate it so much. I just wouldn’t be comfortable accepting that much.”

“What do we do then? The building and apartment have already been bought from last time.”

“I was thinking about that too,” she groaned, cheek planting in her hand. “I don’t want you to have to sell it because you bought them with so much love, but there's also no way that I could afford paying for those places.”

“Hmm… oh!” Jungkook exclaimed, almost dropping his phone with excitement.

“What?”

“What if we found a way to do both?” Jungkook proposed, a twinkle in his eye.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I really want you to have the building and apartment I chose because I think they'd be perfect for you, but it’s out of your budget if you paid full price for it. Since if I had it my way I would just gift them to you anyway, why not just pay me the rent? But rather than the actual full price just pay how much you’re paying now at home. That would work wouldn’t it?”

“But then I'm still not paying anywhere near how much it actually costs.”

“Well you can just pay me over a longer period of time, and if in the future you have the ability to pay a higher price, then pay me more. It’s a win-win situation really,” he beamed, proud of himself for having thought of this idea.

“There's no guarantee that I'd be earning enough in the future to pay you the full price, and if I pay you the same that I currently pay then you'd be waiting ages to get your money back,” she said hesitantly, apprehension scrunching up her face.

“Well it’s a good thing we’re gonna be together forever then isn't it?” Jungkook grinned, cheeks bunching up at his perfect plan.

“Jungkook,” Y/N said, eyes finally welling with tears, “you know how much I love you, right?”

“Hey, why are you crying?” Jungkook said gently, concern painting his face.

“I just… you have done so much for me and my family and I don’t know how I'm ever going to repay you.”

“Hey, I don’t want to hear any of that ‘repayment’ nonsense, okay? You, Y/N, are the love of my life, and I would do absolutely anything for you, you got that? Anything. You don’t owe me anything. The only thing I want is for you to be happy and successful. I just want to be with you, that’s it.”

Y/N choked at his words, nodding her head in agreement as her lip quivered at the oncoming tears.

“Just come to me quickly,” Jungkook sniffled, blinking away the tears so he could see Y/N's face more clearly, “I miss you so much.”

70 notes · View notes

army-author · 4 years

Text

jungkook scenario | the village idiots

❝ Only an idiot would lose their soulmate. Yet this is exactly what you’ve managed to do. In your small village rumours travel fast, and it’s soon whispered on all the street corners that Jungkook is destined to be with you. That only makes his visit home at Christmas all the more awkward for you… ❞

➸ prompt: I returned to my childhood town for the holidays. You’re my estranged childhood friend, and - wow! - you grew up to be hot!

➸ pairing: jungkook x female reader

➸ warnings: mild swearing

➸ requested by anon | 15k words | fluff, mild angst, childhood friends au, soulmate au

➸ author’s note: can you believe I actually got something written in time for christmas, because I can’t!? I hope you all enjoy it! I combined some of my favourite tropes, since I have no self control. I hope you enjoy fluff with a serious chance of diabetes! (and sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes! I’m pretty tired!)

[Sixteen Years Ago]

The soulmate system is easy. Only an idiot could loose their soulmate.

Yet, this is exactly what you manage to do at the age of three. All when a boy, the same age as you, with black hair falling into his dark eyes, rams into you on his tricycle. And your soulmate watch falls off before you can even read what it says, or know when you were supposed to meet your soulmate.

Broken. That’s what you think it is. Not just your watch. But you, yourself - broken. You’re destined to never pair with anyone else. A complex thought for a three-year-old to grapple with.

This is how you get into that predicament:

It’s your first day of nursery school. You’re walking through the playground, clutching at your mother’s hand, and glancing around at the faces of all the new children, with a strange mixture of curiosity and nerves brewing inside you.

All you can focus on is the void of noise swallowing up your eardrums, as children scream around you. Their faces blend together in unfamiliarity as they run by. Yet, you know that you should be looking out for their faces, catching their eyes in the reflection of your own. That’s how you’re meant to meet your soulmate. You don’t know much about the world at the age of three – you don’t even know how to read properly yet – but you know how soulmates find one another. When your eyes meet, your watches, which have been counting down to this fateful moment, will fall off, and you’ll both realise that this is the person you’ve been waiting for.

Your mother has explained it all to you – telling you that soulmates are like best friends that stay with you forever. You don’t quite understand it, but you know that you want a best friend forever.

That’s why you can’t wait until you can read. More specifically, you can’t wait until you can read the time written on your watch, and find out how long your wait will be – how long your forever best friend will have you waiting for their appearance.

You keep asking your mother if she can read your watch for you, tell you when you should expect your soulmate, and every time she patiently explains that only the wearer of the watch can read the timer on it.

“You’ll just have to be patient, sweetie,” your mother says every time you bombard her with questions.

You’ve been trying to teach yourself numbers so you can read the watch as soon as possible, asking your parents any time you pass a sign with a number - “What’s that one? What does that mean?”

But at the age of three, reading a watch is just a little too complicated for you. Much to your frustration.

“Never mind, sweetie,” your mother says when she finds you staring gloomily at your watch - a regular occurrence “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“But mum,” you always whine, “What if I’m meant to meet my soulmate before I can even read my watch?”

“Well,” your mum wraps an arm around your shoulder, “It’s very rare that soulmates meet each other at such a young age. But if it does happen to you – you’ll know because your watch will fall off, and someone else’s watch will fall off as well – that person will be your soulmate.”

You nod, burying your face in her sweater, smelling of baking bread and primroses, like she always does. It sounds so simple when she explains it like that.

But it’s not simple. Not for you at least.

You grip your mother’s hand, as she leads you across the playground, towards your nursery school. The children around you are all so noisy. As you search the faces around you, you feel at the watch on your wrist, still clasped on tightly. None of them are your soulmate then.

As you walk on, a young boy zooms past you on a tricycle, stopping you in your tracks, watching after him as he flies by, wheels skidding on the gravel of the playground.

“They should really watch where they’re going,” your mother eyes a group of boys, following after the first boy on their tricycles.

You turn your eyes to them, wary, as they rumble noisily towards you.

Your gaze fixes on one boy, laughing as he pedals faster and faster, his black hair pushed back off his forehead as he gains speed, his face cracking up with laughter, his friends skidding around him. He’s going faster and faster, pedals pushing the wheels harder, to the point that you think he might leave the ground. The whirring of his wheels fills your ears, as he careens forward. All too late you realise he’s careening towards you.

It happens in slow motion.

His eyes turn to you, widening. You can see your scared face reflected in his dark pupils.

BANG!

You’re on the ground. You know that before you open your eyes. You can feel the scratch of gravel against your cheek.

You sit up slowly, looking up. The boy is standing over you, worry clouding his eyes. He’s saying something to you. He seems on the verge of tears.

Blinking past him, you see your mother bending over you. A group of curious children has formed around you. You frown, fixing your eyes on your mother’s lips as she speaks at you, your senses slowly trickling back, firing messages to your brain. “Are you alright, sweetie?”

You nod. You don’t feel hurt, just shocked. You lift your hand to clutch onto your mother’s for reassurance. Your wrist feels lighter than normal. You frown, blinking away the fog from your brain.

Your mother helps you to your feet, brushing the dirt off your shirt for you.

“I’m so sorry,” the boy who crashed into you is beside you, wringing his hands together, and biting his lips. “Are you okay?”

When you don’t answer, he turns to your mother. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Your mother nods her head. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

As your mother leads you by the hand, away from the crowd of children and towards the nursery school, murmuring about getting you cleaned up, the boy follows behind you, not seeming to believe your mother’s assertion that you’re okay.

But you don’t feel okay. Something is wrong. The light feeling at your wrist is letting you know.

You dig your heels into the ground, pulling your mother to a stop. “M-my watch.” Your breath catches in your throat.

“What’s that?” Your mother’s brow furrows, turning her gaze to your own worried expression.

“My watch. I lost it.” You pull up your sleeve to check what you already know. It’s gone.

“Oh, it must have fallen off when you fell over,” your mother says, as you drag her back the way you’ve come.

Your eyes scan the grey of the gravel, yawning back blankly at your searching eyes, as you trace the area, until a glimmer catches your gaze. The unmistakable silver of a watch, glinting by the base of a plant pot at the nursery school entrance, a few feet from the spot you fell.

You dart across to retrieve it, desperate to put it back on, where it can go back to doing its job of counting down the days until you meet your soulmate. You get the sense that if it isn’t on your wrist it will stop working. Turning the it over, your eyes fall on the watch face, where a crack perfectly separates the glass in half, splitting it across the centre. The numbers on the watch aren’t moving any more, no longer counting down, just large gaping circles staring back at you.

Your eyes start to sting, as you try to put the watch back on, fiddling with the clasp. Your fingers feel as slippery as butter. But despite your desperate attempts, the watch keeps sliding off, tumbling back to the ground with a sad clinking.

“I think it’s broken,” your voice shakes, as you stare up at your mother, hoping that she’ll have some grown-up solution. “It won’t go back on.”

Your mother frowns, leaning down to try and help you with the clasp, but her well practiced hands still can’t affix the watch to your wrist.

“What do the numbers say?” she asks you, a note of urgency in her voice.

“I – I’m not sure,” you stammer.

Behind you, the boy who knocked you down is still hanging around. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

“My soulmate watch…” you hold it up to show him the cracked face.

“Is it meant to look like that?” the boy asks, wrinkling his nose at the shattered glass.

“No,” tears begin to stream down your face as the reality of the situation hits you, “It’s broken. It’s broken because of you.” Before thinking, you step forward, and push the boy in the chest, so that he wobbles back on unsteady legs.

His face crumples. “I didn’t mean to break it.”

“It’s your fault,” you continue, voice raising as you move towards him, your fists flailing at him in frustration, “You broke it, you broke it!”

And so, your nursery school teacher comes out to find you and the young boy in a snivelling heap on the ground, both crying, as you throw punches at his chest, and he wards off your attacks with arms raised over himself in self-defence.

“Alright, break it up!” You feel a hand grabbing around your arm, pulling you away, and you stare up at the face of your new teacher. “What is the meaning of this?”

Faced with an angry grown-up, you only sob harder, overcome with anger.

Your mother steps forward. “I am so so sorry. She’s not normally like this.”

The teacher raises an eyebrow. “Is this your daughter?”

Your mother nods her head.

“Care to explain why she’s starting fights?”

“He hit me on his tricycle,” you shout out, before your mother can answer.

“It was an accident,” the boy sniffles.

“And he broke my soulmate watch,” you continue, kicking out, trying to reach the boy again.

The teacher’s grip around your arm gets tighter. “Alright. Be that as it may, that’s still no reason to get violent.”

It takes a lot of pulling to get you inside, and seated on a chair across from the boy, as your mother and the teacher watch you apologise to the boy. The teacher makes the two of you shake hands, which you do rather reluctantly.

“So, you say that your soulmate watch fell off,” the teacher says, bending down to look into your face after the performed rigmarole of apologising for fighting.

You nod, struggling to meet her gaze.

“And that it’s broken.”

Another nod.

“You’re sure that it didn’t just fall off because you’ve met your soulmate?”

In all the turbulence, that thought hadn’t occurred to you. You don’t answer.

“Did any other child happen to lose a watch around the same time?” your teacher presses.

You shrug, shoulders heaving up and down. You don’t know. In all the confusion you didn’t notice anything but the ringing in your ears and the erratic beating of your own heart.

There were so many new faces around you when your watch fell off. Any one of those children could have been the one. You don’t know. You didn’t get a sense in your heart, like you had expected you would, knowing instinctively who your soulmate was. All the children were strangers to you – no one stood out.

The teacher nods, as if she’s decided something. “I’ll check with the rest of the children. Don’t you worry. We’ll find your soulmate, no trouble.”

She heads out of the room, towards the playground, and your mother ushers you out after her. You’re aware of the boy following behind you. You’re already beginning to feel bad about your outburst, but despite all instincts, you refuse to turn around and acknowledge him.

Outside, your teacher is rounding up the children, herding them into a disorderly line, where she holds up your broken watch in front of them. You watch it glinting in her hand, heartstrings pulled taught.

“Listen up,” the teacher’s voice booms out, commanding the children’s attention, “I have an important question for everyone. One of the children here had their watch fall off. Which means they might have met their soulmate. Now, I need you to answer truthfully. Did anyone else’s soulmate watch fall off this morning?”

The children remain silent, some pulling at their jumper hems, some chewing on their fingers.

“No one?” The teacher’s eyes scan the group.

Some children check their wrists, but no one steps forward.

The teacher turns back to your mother, handing your watch back. “Sorry. It was worth a try.”

A cold settles in your stomach. No soulmate. What does that mean?

“I’m so sorry.” Behind you, you hear the voice of the boy who knocked you over. “I really didn’t mean to break your watch.”

You shrug. You’re too drained to be angry any more. “It was just an accident.”

The boy nods. “Do – do you still think we could be friends after that?”

This catches you off guard. You didn’t expect to go from fighting him with your fists, to getting an offering of friendship. Maybe violence really is the answer, despite what your mother always says.

“I guess,” you pretend to think over the boy’s question, “We can be friends if you really want.”

The boy’s face lights up, and you realise you aren’t angry any more. “My name’s Jeon Jungkook,” he says, smile scrunching up his face.

That’s how the two of you become friends.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Present Day]

Everyone says that Jeon Jungkook is your soulmate.

In a small village rumours travel quickly, and the story of the girl who lost her soulmate at nursery school has travelled well around the small streets in the many years since it happened.

You’re not so sure. Maybe there’s a chance Jungkook is your soulmate. After all, it’s a strange coincidence that he lost his soulmate as well. But he couldn’t have known that when he first ran into you. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him. Surely, if you were meant to be together, you would be with him now. Soulmates will find a way to be with each other. That’s what your mother has taught you to believe. If Jungkook was your soulmate he would be here.

Yet he isn’t. He’s far way. On the other side of the country, living with his dad. And you’re stuck in your small village, serving beers to the locals at your nearest pub, making some money over the Christmas holidays. Despite being old enough to live independently, you still haven’t moved from the village, attending the local university, and living in a small house an old family friend rents out to you. When you imagined going to university, you didn’t expect to be living so close to your old childhood home. But life doesn’t always go the way you expect.

You sigh as another customer turns away from the bar, beer in hand, walking slowly back to their table – the classic, ‘I really don’t want to spill my drink’ walk. You can’t help but glance at your watch. It’s a simple one, the kind that tells the time, not a soulmate watch. It’s twenty minutes to midnight. You knew your shifts would be late when you started this part time job, but the sleepless nights still get to you. You stifle a yawn.

Despite everything wrong with this job, at least it’s a good distraction this time of year. Christmas is the worst holiday for you. Having no soulmate, you’re left to sit alone, while couples that have been busy working all year spend quality time together, snuggled up from the cold, leaving you frozen, with no one to thaw you out.

At least in this pub most of the people you serve are groups of young friends, rather than couples, so you don’t have your lack of soulmate rubbed in your face.

The door of the pub opens, dragging you from your moping. A smile spreads across your face as you recognise the face.

“Taehyung!”

He shakes rain water from his hair as he walks up the bar, unwinding his scarf. “Hello!” He leans on the counter, smiling, “Thought I’d pop in to see how you’re doing.”

You smile, grateful for the distraction – some stimulation to keep you awake. “i’m doing fine. Nothing to complain about.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow. “No complaining? That’s not like you.”

You make a swipe at him across the table, and he ducks your lunge, tutting:

“If you’re going to physically abuse me, you won’t be getting a tip.”

“You weren’t going to tip me anyway,” you call him out.

“You got me there.”

“So, what’s new with you?” You lean on the bar, taking some of the weight off your feet. Your worn trainers were a poor choice for tonight, with soles barely there to support you.

“Nothing much,” Taehyung says, “Although I have some news that might interest you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Taehyung slams his palms against the counter, in an impromptu drum roll. “I’ve been messaging Jungkook recently. Apparently he’s visiting here for the holidays. To see his mum again.”

That name has piqued your interest. You try not to sound too invested. “Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, and you blush. You already know what he’s going to say.

“Don’t,” you warn.

Too late – he’s going down that rabbit hole. “Are you excited to see your estranged soulmate?”

You shake your head, “You don’t really believe he’s my soulmate?”

“Why not?” Taehyung pouts at you, “Both of you lost your soulmates. In a small village like this that can’t be coincidence.”

“Yes it can. We have no idea when Jungkook lost his soulmate,” you remind him, “So I’m not going to accept that he’s my soulmate, just because he happens to be lacking a soulmate too.”

“Well,” Taehyung pushes off from the counter, standing up straight, “Maybe you’ll figure out that you’re destined to be together when he shows up tomorrow.”

You open and shut your mouth, unsure how to respond. It’s been so long since you’ve seen Jungkook, and now he’s being thrust back into your life. For so long he’s just been a name whispered in conjunction with your own by old ladies gossiping on street corners - “She’s the one who lost her soulmate, you know?” “Is that so?” “I heard her soulmate is supposed to be that Jeon boy.”

“I’ll tell him to drop into the pub and say hello,” Taehyung says with a wink, moving towards the door.

“You… you don’t have to,” you call after him, but the door is already swinging shut behind him, and with your brain slamming back to reality, you realise that it’s gone past midnight, and you should be closing up the pub.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Sixteen Years Ago]

You sit with Jungkook on the swings in your local park. It’s been a few weeks since he clattered into you on his tricycle, and the ordeal is mostly forgotten – apart from your now bare wrist.

Jungkook is crunching on a chocolate biscuit, while you stare across enviously at his snacks. On the other side of the park, your neighbour Taehyung is spinning himself around on the roundabout. His laughter floats through to you on the still air.

Jungkook catches your eyes, glued to his biscuits. Wordlessly, he reaches across the gap between you, to offer you one. As he stretches across, you notice:

“You don’t have a watch, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looks down at his bare wrist, as Taehyung wobbles off the roundabout, and precariously makes his way towards you, unstable on his feet.

“Does that mean you’ve found your soulmate already?” you ask, curiosity fizzing inside you.

“What you taking about?” Taehyung asks, leaning himself against the metal frame holding the swings, steadying himself.

“Jungkook doesn’t have a soulmate watch,” you say.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung stares across in mild curiosity at your new friend.

“I’m not allowed to wear my watch,” Jungkook explains, licking at his fingers to get the last of the biscuit crumbs.

“Not allowed?” You wrinkle your brow, confused. “Why?”

Jungkook huffs out his cheeks, and begins reciting, like his parents probably always tell him, “I’ll be given my soulmate watch when I’m old enough to understand the significance of having a soulmate. My parents say that children aren’t old enough to get soulmates.”

“But…” you chew on your lips, cogs turning in your brain, “What if you’re supposed to meet your soulmate before your parents let you wear your watch? What if you miss them because of that?” You’re thinking of your own soulmate, who you may have lost because of a faulty watch. You don’t want your new friend to be subject to the same fate.

Jungkook shrugs. “If that happens, my parents wouldn’t want me to be with my soulmate anyways. They say I’m too young for a relationship like that.”

You wrinkle your nose. “They seem strict.”

Jungkook nods glumly.

“When will you be old enough for a soulmate,” you ask.

“When I’m fifteen.”

Your jaw drops. That seems like an eternity away for your young brain. You can barely comprehend being five years old, let alone fifteen. “That’s so long!”

Jungkook shrugs. “Well, my parents didn’t meet each other until they were in their late twenties, and they say that’s the best age to meet your soulmate.”

Suddenly, Taehyung, who’s been silent for an uncharacteristically long time, lets out a loud gasp. “Hey!” He turns to you. “Didn’t you lose your watch recently?”

You nod your head, confused by his visible excitement.

“What if you two are soulmates?” Taehyung blurts, finger flicking back and forth between you and Jungkook, like he’s doing some complicated maths in his head – one plus one equals soulmates.

Jungkook glances at you, then wrinkles his nose, “Ew, no way. She’s not my soulmate. She’s my friend.”

“She can be both,” Taehyung says with the authority of a child that’s one year older than you.

“No way,” Jungkook sticks out his tongue, “You have to kiss soulmates, and give them hugs, and be in love with them, and all that stuff’s yucky.”

You nod, “Yeah, Taehyung. There’s no way Jungkook’s my soulmate. I punched him when I first met him. And if he was my real soulmate I wouldn’t have punched him, would I?” This logic makes sense to you. Soulmates never punch each other upon meeting. It should be love at first sight, right? With you, it was frustration at first sight.

Taehyung shrugs. “You could still be soulmates.”

“No way!” You and Jungkook both exclaim at the same time, and then both yell, “Jinx!” at each other and keep repeating, “Jinx! Jinx Jinx!” while Taehyung rolls his eyes at you.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Present Day]

You hold back a yawn, feeling it tugging at your jaw, tempting, as you wave off another set of customers. This evening of work has felt particularly long. It’s been quiet, with only a small group of friends laughing over card games in the corner, and occasionally coming up for another round of drinks. You’ve spent most of your time perched behind the bar, scrolling through your phone, and willing the hours to pass quicker. At the back of your mind, you remember Taehyung’s promise to send Jungkook your way. But as the clock counts closer to midnight, your hope of seeing him is fading.

Your head snaps up when you hear the door opening – a new customer. The orange glare of the streetlights shines into the pub, reflecting off the wet pavement beyond the door. Through the artificial light, steps a figure you can’t take your eyes from. You know his face, familiar, yet strangely different – like buying your favourite brand of chocolate, only to discover that the company’s changed the recipe.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you’re left an incompetent mess, unable to say anything but his name as he stands in front of you, loosening the buttons on his coat.

“Hey,” he smiles at you.

He’s changed so much from the last time you saw him, you’re almost surprised you recognised him. Yet there’s something still familiar in the twinkle of his dark diamond eyes, and the scrunch of his nose as his smile eases wider. His hair is longer, falling across his face, framing his cheeks in ebony.

Jungkook has grown up to be – you’ll be damned for thinking this – incredibly hot.

You swallow down this thought, embarrassed it entered your head. This is Jungkook – your childhood friend. You can still envision him when he was old enough to be picking worms out of the mud. You shouldn’t be thinking like this about him.

It occurs to you that you’ve been standing staring for far too long – more than is ever socially acceptable. But he hasn’t said anything to you. And you haven’t said anything to him either, and now it’s awkward.

You take a breath to speak, just as he opens his mouth, and you both stutter to silence again. You indicate with your hand – he should go first, but he shakes his head firmly, and nods your way – you should go first, and you both mime back and forth at each other that the other should speak, until at last you break, saying:

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, squinting at the drinks behind the bar, “Uh… just… water will be fine.”

You raise your brow. “Nothing more exciting for you?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “No. I don’t handle my drinks very well. And I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you after just meeting you again.”

You laugh, and grab him a glass from behind the bar, filling it with water. Over the counter, he continues:

“I hope you don’t think that I came into this pub just for the water.”

You slide his cup across the counter to him. “Didn’t you?”

“No,” he fumbles in his coat for his wallet, eyes still on you, “Taehyung told me you’d be here.”

“Tap water’s free by the way,” you say, as Jungkook rifles through his wallet.

“Oh, right.” He chokes on a laugh, “My brain’s like mush tonight.”

You smile sympathetically, “I know the feeling. Having to stay up for work most nights has left me with only two functioning brain cells.”

Jungkook chuckles at this, a genuine smile carving out his face.

Rather than taking his drink and going, Jungkook stays standing in front of you, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s really good to see you again.”

“You too.” You can’t fight off a smile. Seeing Jungkook is filling you with the warmth of your childhood spent with him, all flooding back in a rush of lazy days lounging on the grass, and running around the village park, swinging yourself off swings, and trying to make each other sick on the roundabout.

You’re excited to talk to Jungkook, until you hear the pub door opening. Normally you’d be glad of a new customer, but Jungkook’s a special customer – the only one you want to pay attention to.

“Listen,” you speak up as Jungkook takes hold of his glass, “I’ll be finished work in about fifteen minutes. If you’d like to stick around until then, we could… I don’t know… go for a walk or something. Get a chance to chat – catch up.”

Jungkook nods, and steps out of the way to let your new customers forward to order. “I’ll be here,” he promises, before turning away to find himself a seat.

As you serve your new customers, you can’t help but smile, excitement bubbling through your veins at the prospect of getting to spend some time with Jungkook.

As you keep working, cleaning up behind the bar, your eyes keep dancing back to Jungkook, where he sits in the corner, watching his old village out the window and sipping his water. Once or twice, his eyes find yours, watching him, and you quickly pull your gaze away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. The fleeting eye contact pulls your heart into a tight knot.

At last, the final customer leaves, and you can slip out from behind the bar to flip over the sing on the door to read ‘CLOSED”. With a final check that everything behind the bar is in order, you grab your coat, and head over to the table Jungkook’s sat at.

“Hey.”

He looks up at your voice, a smile spreading across his face. “You done now?”

You nod, and Jungkook chuckles:

“Stupid question. Sorry.”

He stands up quickly, bumping into the table as he does so, and laughing again, as he collects his coat and scarf from the back of his chair, and pulls them on.

As you open up the door, letting him out, a gust of cold air bursts in, stealing the breath from your throat. You pull your coat tight around you, hoping to block out the icy wind as you step into the street.

“Where to?” you ask, and Jungkook shrugs:

“You know this place better than I do.”

“You probably still know it pretty well. This place has barely changed since you left,” you say, picking a random direction, and leading him down the pavement.

“I suppose it hasn’t,” Jungkook observes, “I was expecting it to be different to how I remembered, but it’s almost the exact same… Well, except everyone’s gotten older, and some of the buildings look a bit worse for wear.”

“That’s just how it is here,” you say, “There’s never any change. In some ways it’s charming because of that. But it’s also….”

“Boring?” Jungkook suggests.

“Yeah,” you huff out a puff of misted air, “It’s boring.”

Jungkook nods, pressing his lips together. Silence falls between you, and the wind blows harder, roaring against your frozen ears.

“Listen,” Jungkook shoves his hands into the depths of his pockets as he speaks, “This should probably have been the first thing I said to you. But I guess I’m doing it now instead. I need to say I’m sorry.”

You pause on your path, steps faltering. “Why are you apologising to me?”

“I should have messaged you while we were apart,” Jungkook says, “I lost your number, and then, when it eventually turned up it felt like I had left it too long to pick up any kind of conversation with you, so I chickened out and never ended up calling at all.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. I could have always asked Taehyung for your number. I knew he had it. But I never did. I guess I worried he might think it was weird, me chasing after your number like that… It was stupid of me.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, pretty stupid. Not any worse than me. I should have just called you anyway.”

You laugh. “Yep – we’re both idiots. You especially.”

“Hey,” Jungkook brushes against you with his shoulder, gently bumping you, “That’s mean.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you bump him back, “You know I only tease because I like you.”

Glancing over, you see him smiling at the pavement. “Yeah. I really missed you, you know?”

“Me too,” you say.

Around the corner, the old park that you used to play at as kids emerges.

“Oh, no way,” Jungkook stops in front of it, eyes gleaming, “This is just how I remember it.”

“It’s another thing that hasn’t changed here,” you stop beside him, hesitating in front of a panorama of childhood memories that rush back with the shape of the small slide and the squeak of the swings as they move in the wind.

Jungkook turns to you, nose scrunching up in childish glee. “Shall we? For old time’s sake?”

You grin back. “Yeah!”

The gate creaks as Jungkook opens it, just as it always did, swinging closed with a clang.

Jungkook runs over to the swings, and you chase after him, taking up the swing seat beside him. Kicking yourself off with a push of your heels, the world around you swings back and forth as the sky looms closer, then falls away again. If you reach up at the highest point of your swing, you feel you could catch the clouds in your hands, melt them on your fingers.

“This brings back memories,” Jungkook says, swinging back and forth beside you, in the opposite direction to you, so you only occasionally catch sight of his face, looking back at you.

You hum in agreement, but the wind snatches away the sound, so you reply, “Yes, it does.”

Your mind falls back to the many times you would come here after school, laughing at inside jokes that didn’t makes sense to anyone but you and Jungkook, the many experiences you had here with Jungkook – the time that you fell off the swing, and scraped your knee, and he helped you back to your house; the time that you spent all your pocket money on sweets, which you then ate, sitting on the climbing frame, until you were nearly sick from the sugar. You fingers feel strangely hot on the cold metal of the swing chains as you remember the last time you sat with Jungkook on these swings, right before he left your village. Your cheeks heat up.

The both of you are silent. You wonder if Jungkook is remembering the same moment you are – if you should bring it up.

At last, Jungkook cracks the silence. “You know… Taehyung keeps going on about the two of us being soulmates, telling me we’re both idiots for not getting together.”

A wry smile spreads across your face. “Yeah, he’s the same way with me.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Part of me wonders if he’s right,” Jungkook says.

You pause, fingers wrapping round the cold metal of the swing chain - an attempt to ground yourself in reality.

Jungkook continues, “The thought kept going through my head once he brought it up with me recently… And I was thinking… Well… Even if we’re not soulmates, there’s no harm in trying things out together.”

You remember Jungkook had suggested something similar just before he left you – a chance of love snatched away with his sudden move. The memory still stings.

“What do you mean?” You already know what he means. You heart clambers into your mouth.

“I mean, I would like to try… dating. If you’ll have me,” Jungkook stares across at you, catching you in a gaze you can’t look away from. “Even if we’re not soulmates… we’re both single,” he continues, “And we might never know who our soulmates are. There’s no harm in trying, right?”

You can barely find your tongue to respond. “But, you… you live so far away now.”

“We could make it work,” Jungkook says, “If you wanted to?”

You turn the thought over in your head. You know this will probably end like it did last time, with Jungkook snatched out of you life, only a distant memory. You glance across at him, drinking in his matured face. This isn’t the boy you grew up with. This is someone else. Someone, who’ll maybe, just maybe, fend off the loneliness chilling your heart. “I- I’d like that,” you reply.

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s face breaks into a wide smile, squishing his nose up in the way you always liked when he was a child.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I mean… why not?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods.

“Yeah…”

You both fall silent again. You suddenly realise you don’t know where to go from here. How are you supposed to continue with someone who might not – but then again might – be your soulmate?

Jungkook seems just as unsure as you, rubbing at the back of his neck, as he stares up at the expanse of stars above him.

“So… what exactly does dating involve?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as the words leave your lips.

“Uh… dating?”

“Well obviously,” you chuckle, “But what does a date with Jeon Jungkook involve exactly?”

“Hmmm,” Jungkook considers this, “It probably involves getting coffee together. Tomorrow. At, shall we say… eleven thirty?”

“It’s a date.” You stick out your hand to him. “Let’s shake on it.”

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Ten Years Ago]

The unthinkable had happened.

And Jungkook doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about anything as he stomps through the rain.

The drops pelting down on the hood of his coat sound like coins rattling. He sloshes through puddles, ignoring how the water soaks into his shoes. The streetlights shine down on the rain that glazes the pavement, leaving yellow rings rippling across the ground.

Jungkook blinks past the raindrops, seeing the village park ahead of him, swing sets shining under the sheen of rain.

Tramping forward, he sits down on one of the swings, ignoring the cold rain seeping into the seat of his jeans.

Pushing himself off the ground, his feet splash up water. He doesn’t want to think of it.

Doesn’t want to think of the divorce.

Now he’s thinking about it.

So rare. It’s so rare for two soulmates to get together, and then decide that they’re not compatible anymore. How did it happen to his parents of all people? The two people he thought were living happily, despite their arguments? Was he blind, should he have spotted the warning signs, helped his parents out more? What could he have done to stop this? Could he have done anything?

He’s thinking too much. He pushes himself off the ground, swinging forward further, falling back. He stares up at the sky, the raindrops streaking down to stain his cheeks. If he leans his head back far enough he can see the ground behind him, hanging upside down, falling towards him as he swings back. It makes him dizzy. A better feeling than the confusion clouding his brain.

“Thought I would find you here.”

Jungkook sits up straight on the swing, seeing his father standing in front of him, umbrella in hand.

“What are you doing here?” The question sounds more aggressive than Jungkook intended. “I thought I said I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, Jungkook,” his father says, “But it’s cold and damp out here. I want you to come home.”

“Well I don’t want to go home,” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest, trying not to shiver, not wanting to show his father that he’s right – it’s bitterly cold outside.

“I know,” his father says, “But you’ll get sick out here.”

Jungkook remains quiet.

His dad sighs, and comes across to sit on the swing next to him.

“Listen,” he begins, hesitating, “I know this is tough for you. It’s strange to see two soulmates separate. But, I do know that at one point in my life, your mother was my soulmate. She was perfect for me. But we’ve both changed a lot. We’re very different people now. And we’re not making each other happy anymore.”

“You never really believed in the soulmate system, did you?” Jungkook accuses.

His dad makes a noise like he’s going to respond, but no words come out.

“That’s why you don’t want me to have my watch until I’m older. You don’t think it’ll do me any good, knowing who my soulmate is. Just because you were unhappy with your soulmate.”

“That’s not true,” his father says, but Jungkook butts in:

“It is true! You expect me to be just as unhappy with my soulmate, so you don’t want me to find them. Isn’t that it? All this time I thought you were keeping me from my watch because you thought it would do me good. But you have no real idea what’s good for me, do you?”

His father is silent.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut against the glare of the streetlights on the rain soaked ground. If he squeezes hard enough, the tears won’t come.

“I should have know.” Jungkook jumps up, and walks away from his father. He can hear him calling him back, but he ignores him, picking up the pace, speed kicking up, until he’s running, rain splashing up his legs.

Anger is thundering through him, warming him despite the cold. He’s going to find his watch. He knows his parents keep it in their room somewhere. He’s going to take it, and he won’t let his parents take it back.

He deserves to know who his soulmate is.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Present Day]

You’re overthinking this. It’s just a date. Nothing to get worked up over.

But it’s your first date. Ever. And you have no idea what to expect.

As you stare at the collection of clothes spread haphazardly across your bed, this decision seems harder than the choice of name for your first born child. What are you supposed to wear? Should you dress casually? Or will Jungkook think you aren’t taking this seriously enough if you don’t wear your best clothes?

Your phone goes off, vibrating violently on your bedside table, and you grab it to check who’s messaging you. Taehyung’s name flashes up on screen: Heard you have a date today! ;)

You smile to yourself. Of course Taehyung’s already found out about you and Jungkook. You text back: You head right.

You barely have the time to return your attention to you choice in clothing before your phone is buzzing again: Good luck. Not that you need it! :P

A smile spreads across your face, which immediately disappears when your eye catches the time on your phone screen. Shit! You’re going to be late.

With no time left to decide, you grab a pair of jeans and a knitted sweater, throwing them on, struggling to get your arms through the sleeves as you bump down the stairs, wildly grabbing for your shoes.

The walk to the cafe where you decided to meet Jungkook is a short one – but a sweaty one, as you power walk the entire way, holding back from running for fear of all eyes gluing to you, as you make a spectacle of yourself.

As you throw open the cafe door, with the tinkle of the bell above your head, Jungkook stands up from his table with a smile on his face.

“Hey,” you walk over to his table, trying to catch your breath, and hoping your face isn’t too red, “Sorry I’m late. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

He shakes his head quickly, “No, no.”

You follow him over the the cafe counter with a relieved laugh. “Good. It took me way to long to decide what to wear, and I kind of lost track of time.”

“I know the feeling,” Jungkook flashes you a look with his melted chocolate eyes, “I was so nervous this morning!”

“Me too,” you laugh at yourself, “Guess there was no need to be.”

“No,” a soft smile settles across Jungkook’s face as he looks at you, until the barista draws his attention away, asking him what he wants to drink.

As you read over the cafe’s menu behind the counter, an odd shiver runs down your spine, like a drip of icy water has slid past the collar of your sweater. You turn back to the cafe, and catch the eyes of the other customers, all glued on you and Jungkook – there’s Margaret, the old lady who lives across the street from you, with her friend Alice; there’s your primary school teacher, a friend of your mother’s; there’s the father of your old babysitter - all people you know. And they’re all murmuring amongst themselves, eyes flickering between you and Jungkook. A warmth sweeps across your face, burning your nose.

“Can I help you?” You jump, realising that the barista has been talking to you.

“Oh, right,” you shake yourself, turning away from the curious eyes fixed on you, “Can I have a flat white please?”

Having ordered your coffees, you and Jungkook return to your table. Seated opposite from you, Jungkook blows at the steam rising from his coffee, while you lean towards him to whisper, “I feel like everyone’s staring at us.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to his coffee as he swirls it round and round with a wooden stirrer, watching the cloudy patterns of milk mixing through the coffee. “Yeah, I couldn’t help noticing that myself.” His shoulders shake with a quiet laugh. “I kind of forgot what it’s like in a small village like this - that you can’t get away with doing anything in secret here.” His eyes bounce up to meet yours, catching you off guard with their brightness, “In the city no body knows who you are, and you can go anywhere without bumping into a familiar face. In some ways it’s nice. It gives you privacy.”

You nod, “Yeah… it’s kind of awkward here, isn’t it? We’re going to be the topic of gossip all over town now. People will be saying that we’re getting married next.”

“And that you’re pregnant with our third child.”

“And actually we’ve been married for three years, and you’re filing for a divorce.”

Jungkook’s head bobs down in a snort of laughter. “I forgot how ridiculous the rumours can get.” He scratches at the back of his neck, “Maybe I should have chosen somewhere more discrete for our first date.”

“It’s no problem.” A smirk plays across your face as a plan comes into your head. “Why don’t we give them something to really gossip about?”

A grin rises on Jungkook’s face to match your own. “What did you have in mind?”

With a burst of bravery, you lean across the table towards him, and Jungkook, taking your cue, leans closer, tilting his head forward.

Your lips connect with a rush of warmth through your body, and a rush of blood to the head, leaving every limb feeling tingly. You’re not sure how long you should kiss Jungkook, how much tongue should be involved, or if Margaret will be telling your mother about this, but all other thoughts begin to melt away as Jungkook’s mouth moves against your own, using you in strange new ways that you have never experienced before. He pulls away from you far too soon, leaving you hovering over the table, with your eyes fluttering open, like you’re waking up for the first time, a brand new person.

Jungkook grins across at you. “Am I that good a kisser?”

You blush, sitting back in your seat. “Don’t flatter yourself.” A smile lets him know he is that good.

All eyes are definitely on you now.

“I think it’s time we leave,” Jungkook says with a laugh, gaze sweeping the cafe.

You’re only too happy to comply, gathering your coat and scarf from the back of your chair.

With a barely contained giggle, you and Jungkook collapse out of the door into the cold December air, where you promptly descent into laughter.

“Did you see their faces?” Jungkook wheezes.

You lean against him, gasping in cold air, with your ribs feeling like they’re about to snap, “Those old ladies looked so happy to have a new story to spread around.”

“I’m pretty happy too,” Jungkook says, with a shy smile directed your way, “I got a kiss out of it.”

“You can certainly get more of those,” you promise. It surprises you how easy it is to be like this around Jungkook, like the two of you are meant to be by each other’s side, laughing at life together..

As you walk down the street, you manage to restore your composure, “It’s nice to be back with you, Jungkook.”

“You too,” he says, “I’m just sorry I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Do- do you mind me asking why that is?”

Jungkook breathes out a sigh, “Honestly, I’ve been putting off coming to visit my mum.”

“You don’t get on with her, huh?”

Jungkook pauses in his path. You stop a few steps ahead of him. “Not really,” he admits, “I know I should. I mean, she’s my mum. She’s family. But part of me blames her for losing my soulmate, I suppose. And she’s never really seen eye to eye with me when it comes to the topic of soulmates.”

You decide not to pry further, knowing Jungkook will open up more when he wants to.

The two of you continue walking, twisting your way down familiar streets, past old houses lounging behind neatly trimmed hedges. Without thinking, your hand slips comfortably into Jungkook’s. He pulls up the sleeve of his coat so your palm can press against his, without the fabric getting in the way.

Suddenly, a shout across the street grabs your attention. “Well, if it isn’t the two love-birds!”

You glance over, and a smile brightens your face when you see Taehyung, waving across at you. He glances up and down the street, then runs over to the two of you. “Hey!”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you smile.

“How’s the date going?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Pretty good, I’d say,”Jungkook grins, “We’ve already managed to make ourselves the talk of the village by showing up together at the cafe.”

Taehyung laughs. “Sounds about right for this village.” He’s silent for a second, then suddenly exclaims: “Hey, if you’re wanting to get out of the village for a bit, me and a few other friends are taking the bus into town his evening. We’re going to be visiting the new club that’s just opened there. It’s meant to be really good. And less people will know you there. That means less people gossiping about seeing you together.”

Jungkook looks to you, eyebrows raised, waiting for you to call the shots.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night out,” you say, “And I am off work for the next few days. It would be a shame to waste that freedom.”

“That’s the spirit,” Taehyung slaps you on the back, while you and Jungkook share a smile.

Maybe getting out of the village is just what you and Jungkook need.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

The clubs is already throbbing with bodies when you arrive. You can’t hear anything over the blast of the bass, vibrating through your bones. But that doesn’t matter, as Jungkook offers you a beer. All you care about are his eyes on yours, drowning you in melted chocolate. Holding up his own glass to you, you see his mouth form around the words “To us!” and you shout back “To us!” hoping he can hear you over the music.

One beer turns into two, turns into three, leaving your head in a happy haze, as you push your way closer to the centre of the dance floor. Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, as you move in time to the beat, and you stop caring about the other people around you. None of them know you. You’ve managed to loose Taehyung and his friends already. It’s just you and Jungkook, and the music moving in waves through your bodies, like you’ve merged into one living, breathing being, joined by the beat. Jungkook’s body presses closer to you, and all the nerves in you spark at the sensation of him against you. Looking up, his face is bright in the spinning lights. You lean closer, breathing the same air as him, not minding the scent of beer. You’re hypnotised by his eyes, drawn in closer, closer. You can make out every small imperfection on his face, faint freckles, a loose eyelash on his cheek. His lips are so close, they’re almost brushing yours.

And then you’re kissing him. It’s not like the kiss in the cafe. This one isn’t for show, to get the neighbours talking. This is purely, unapologetically Jungkook, and all the feeling that comes from him. It’s the taste of his tongue, rough against your own. It’s the softness of his lips, pressing to the shape you cast for him. It’s the nip of his teeth on the tender skin of your bottom lip, sharp and sweet to you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur - all you’ll remember later is the pounding beat of the drums, and the beat of your own heart as Jungkook’s body moves against you in a slow dance all of your own, while the rest of the club pulses around you, cutting you into your own world, with your own atmosphere, revolving around your own bright sun.

When Jungkook speaks into your ear, breath hot on your skin - “Want to get out of here?” - you’re ready to comply.

The bus ride back to your village is spent giggling in the back seat, leaning against Jungkook, as he draws silly faces for you on the fogged up window, and whispers about the other bus passengers, making up reasons for them to be getting the bus at half one in the morning.

You barely know yourself as you lead Jungkook back to your house. If you had been told a week ago that you’d be going home with someone this evening, you would have laughed. You’ve been single for so long, so starved of touch, any scenario with this outcome seemed farcical. You refuse the urge to pinch yourself.

Bursting into your house, the empty rooms fill with your laughter, as you and Jungkook collapse onto your sofa, without even bothering to turn on the light. You end up underneath Jungkook, his weight holding you down, pressing comfortingly. In the darkness, Jungkook’s lips find yours, with a quiet desperation. These are the kisses of someone as starved for physical contact as you are. You respond back with the same intensity, lungs pulling air between kisses, head dizzy from alcohol and the strength of his affection.

You’d be a fool if you didn’t realise where this is going. Your stomach flips over, as the two of you sit up, bodies tangled together as you straddle Jungkook’s thighs. His hand slips under your shirt, hesitant at first, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. You can only press your lips to his all the more fervently in answer, and his fingers trail across your exposed skin, exploring, like he’s marking out a map of your body.

Suddenly he pulls away, leaving you breathless and cold. In the fog of alcohol your head tries to bend around the heat he ripped from you, wanting desperately to grab it back.

“What’s wrong?” You fumble blindly for the lamp by your sofa, wincing as you douse the room in light.

Jungkook is sitting across from you, his hair mussed up and his cheeks pink. “I’m just not sure about this,” he says, “Are we moving too fast?”

“What do you mean?” Your heart clenches.

“It’s just,” Jungkook puffs out his cheeks in a sigh, “We don’t even know if we’re soulmates. What if we’re not? What if our real soulmates are out there somewhere, just waiting for us to show up?”

“You think I haven’t worried about that myself?” Your eyes search his, just as mesmerising as ever. You refuse to let yourself get sucked in, blinking past the haze in your head, “Obviously I worry about that. But I’m so tired of being alone. I want what everyone else has. I just…” you hang your head, “I want to love somebody.”

“I know,” Jungkook nods, “Me too. That’s why I don’t want to rush into this. I don’t want to be doing this just because I’m desperate for a cure to my loneliness.”

The two of you fall silent. At last Jungkook speaks up. “I should probably get going. My mum will have a fit if I’m back late.”

“Alright,” you nod. You know Jungkook is right, you should slow things down, be sure that this – the two of you, together – is something you really want.

Still, as you wave him off at the front step, you can’t help but feel disappointed. You wish your love life could be as simple as everyone else’s seems to be – that you could have your soulmate watch fall off, and immediately know who you’re meant to be with. And that you would never doubt a kiss after it’s happened.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Ten Years Ago]

The numbers stare back at Jungkook, blank and lifeless, as he stands in his parents room, watch in hand.

The screen reads: 00:00.

His timer is up. That’s what this means. He’s met his soulmate somewhere already, without knowing it, without a watch to guide him to the person he was supposed to be with.

Anger burns in his stomach.

“Jungkook!” His mother runs into the room, switching on the lights. The brightness of the bulbs blinds him, leaving him blinking. “What are you doing with that?” his mother demands.

“Taking what belongs to me,” Jungkook holds up the watch, and his mother’s eyes widen.

“How did you find that?” she asks, taking a step forward and making a grab for it.

Jungkook swings out of the way, clutching the watch to his chest. “It didn’t take too long to look through your drawers.”

His mother’s face reddens. “You shouldn’t be going through my things, Jungkook.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have taken something that belongs to me,” Jungkook replies, not caring that he’s being rude. He’s too angry to care about anything, but the blank numbers on his watch.

“Did you read it already?” she demands, stepping back. Her face is lined with worry, cracks of age etched into her skin.

“Yes,” Jungkook clutches the watch tighter in his hand, feeling the cold metal cut into his skin. His jaw clenches, defiant against his mother, as she draws herself up to her full hight, not quite as tall as he is. It wasn’t long ago that she towered above him.

“After your father and I told you not to? Demanded that you didn’t?” Anger simmers in her voice, below a barely concealed disappointment.

“Yes,” Jungkook remains monotone with her, feeling his teeth grinding together, holding him back from snapping at her – the woman who stopped him from finding his soulmate, prevented him finding love.

“You give that back now,” his mother holds out her hand to him, bare palm demanding.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head, stepping back.

“Jungkook,” his mother’s tone is strong, unaccepting of his answer, “That’s no way to talk to me.”

Jungkook pockets his watch, watching his mother carefully, letting her watch for herself as he disobeys her. He doesn’t need to say anything. Slinking past her, as she shouts after him, he heads out of the room, across the landing to his own room, where he slams the door, immune to the shouts of his name behind him.

Here, with no eyes on him, he pulls out the watch again, looking at the blank zeroes that stare back, heartless and cold. So his parents have spoiled his soulmate connection because their own soulmate connections have failed. In keeping him from it, they were keeping him from what every other person was going to easily walk into as they journeyed through life – companionship, friendship, a promise that they wouldn’t be lonely again. And for what? Because it hadn’t worked out for them?

With a sudden surge of rage, Jungkook lunges for his bed, and grabbing a pillow, pounds it with his fists, until the breath has gone from his chest, and the tears are gone from his eyes. Leaning down, he rests his head against the pillow he was just assaulting, feeling its comforting softness resting against him, and the thought crosses his mind of how much he wants a soulmate for moments like this, when he’s feeling weak and broken. He wants someone to stay by his side, to comfort him, run a hand through his hair, and promise him everything will be okay.

But it’s not okay. He’s stuck without a soulmate. And somewhere out there, his other half is living with no soulmate, wondering where he is, and why he never showed up in their life when their watch went off.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Present Day]

You wake to a knock on your door. A glance at your phone lets you know that it’s almost midday, on the twenty third of December. Later than you had meant to sleep in. You can still feel the alcohol in your system, not enough to give you a full-blown hangover, but enough to make you roll over with a groan, hoping for more sleep.

Another knock rattles on the door, and you sigh, pushing yourself out of bed. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” you mutter, knowing the person at the door won’t hear you. You scramble for clothes, before padding down the stairs to open the door.

The bright sunlight greets you, with a brighter smile from-

“Jungkook?” You stare up at him, “What are you doing here?”

He steps into your house, without giving you an answer, leading you towards your living room. “I think I’ve figured out how to fix our soulmate problem.”

“Uh huh?” You flop down on your sofa, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and trying to get your brain in gear.

“So,” Jungkook sits down next to you, warmth radiating out from him, making you want to melt back into bed, maybe with him by your side this time, “I was wondering if it’s possible to find out when soulmate watches were set to go off, even after their timer has already gone off.”

“Yeah?”

“And it turns out that there are a few watchmakers than can wind back watches to figure out the dates they were set to come off. There aren’t many of them. But they do exist.”

“Yeah?” your brain is still half asleep, not quite processing what Jungkook is saying.

“Don’t you get it?” Jungkook stares you dead in the eyes, “If we take my watch to one of these watchmakers, we can see if it was set to go off on the day your watch fell off. We can figure out if you really are my soulmate.”

Your brain finally snaps awake. “This is really a thing we can do?”

“Yeah. I mean, our nearest watchmaker is quite far away. But sure it’s a thing we can do. If you don’t mind a long drive?”

You’re on your feet, before your brain can catch up with your body, leaving you wobbling. “What are you waiting for, let’s go!”

“Now?” Jungkook stares up at you.

“Sure, why not?”

“Well… it’s the twenty third of December,” Jungkook reminds you, “The roads are going to be a nightmare with everyone trying to get home to their families. Not to mention there’s heavy snow forecast for this evening.”

You feel yourself deflate. “Ah, right. So we should probably wait, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook says, and then the two of you fall silent.

You turn the thought over in your head. The possibility of knowing once and for all if Jungkook is your soulmate – if the fluttering in your heart is the real deal, or just the jittery hope that love is even an option for you.

“Oh, what the hell,” you look down at Jungkook, “I need to know.”

Jungkook grins, “And here I was, hoping you would talk me out of this crazy idea.”

“No way,” you shake your head, “I’m just as crazy as you are.”

“So… road trip?” Jungkook raises his brows expectantly.

“Just wait. First breakfast. Then, road trip!”

Jungkook grins, “Can’t forget breakfast.”

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

Jungkook wasn’t exaggerating when he said the roads would be a nightmare today. You stare out at the sea of cars on all sides of you, sitting at a standstill, with passengers and drivers looking just as hopeless as you feel. The sky above your is a dark grey, and around you, car lights are beginning to turn on as evening sets in.

“We’re never going to get moving,” you groan, leaning your head against the cold window.

“Sure we are,” Jungkook shifts into first gear, rolling the car forward, “Look at that. We gained some ground.”

“Yeah… an inch,” you say.

“An inch is better than nothing,” Jungkook says, and you bite back on any immature jokes you could make, turning your attention to the radio instead:

“How about we have some music?” You turn the volume up as the notes of ‘Let it Snow’ start swimming through the stuffy air of the car.

“I’d rather it didn’t snow,” Jungkook addresses the radio, “At least until we get home again.”

You glance up at the grey clouds that have been consistently gathering above you all day. The sky is dark now, and you can barely tell if that’s because it’s getting late in the day, or just because the heavens are threatening a storm. Maybe both.

Trying to remain positive despite the aching in your muscles from sitting for so long, you begin singing along, putting on a silly voice to coax a smile out of Jungkook as the car rolls forward a few more inches.

Shyly, Jungkook begins to sing along with you, and you trail off, listening intently to Jungkook, awed by his voice. He continues on, not noticing you’ve stopped singing with him, until the song comes to an end. “What?” he glances over at you, “You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry,” you flush, “I just- I never realised you could sing, Jungkook.”

“Huh?” It’s his turn to blush. “I’m not that good.”

“Sure you are! You sing like an angel.”

The tips of his ears are turning red. “Oh, stop flattering me.”

“I need you to know how talented you are, Jungkook, damnit.”

“Oh yeah, well if you’re going to be complimenting me, then you better expect some compliments in return.”

A smile tugs at you lips, “Yeah? You got compliments for me?”

“Sure I do.” Around you, the traffic begins moving again, slowly. “For starters, you’re beautiful!” Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road, rolling forward, but he can’t hide the smile on his face as he talks about you, “And you’re really funny. You’ve got the perfect sense of humour. Not to mention you’re kind. And you’re willing to put up with all my crazy ideas - liking driving miles to find a watchmaker on the off chance he might be able to tell us when I was supposed to meet my soulmate. And you’re also really beautiful. Did I already say that?” He laughs at himself, clearly embarrassed by his rambling. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you end up being my soulmate, then I’m a very lucky man.”

You can’t do anything but smile, cheeks hurting, unused to stretching so far. Jungkook has rendered you speechless. You want to tell him so much – that he’s beautiful too, that you love his jokes, his passion, his gentleness, that you think you’d be very lucky if he turned out to be your soulmate too, but the words stick in your throat.

Above you, the heavy clouds begin to release their first flakes of snow with a gentle sigh.

Somehow, you get the sense, Jungkook already knows all you want to tell him.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

The clock on the car dashboard reads 11:00pm. You can barely see the road in front of you, dimly lit by the car's headlights. You’ve made your way through all the traffic, and are somehow still making barely any progress on the road. The windscreen is obscured by a flurry of snowflakes, occasionally punctuated by the windscreen wipers, giving you a brief glimpse of the snow drowning the road in white.

“Jungkook,” you murmur across to him, “We really need to stop.”

“We’re nearly there,” Jungkook insists. You can hear the rough scratch of sleepiness in his voice.

But you know you need to stop driving soon. Jungkook’s tired, and despite turning up the volume of the radio until it’s blasting obnoxious Christmas tunes at full volume, you know Jungkook can’t fight the battle against sleep for much longer.

“We both need rest,” you insist, “We’ll get there tomorrow. But for now we need to stop.”

Jungkook is about to argue back, until a yawn catches him off guard. Blinking tired eyes at the dark road ahead, he relents: “Alright, I’ll turn in at the next service station.”

You watch carefully for the signs directing you to the service station. Through the snow, the sign pointing for a hotel almost feels like a mirage at first. Relief floods through your veins as you turn into the car park, safe, as the snow falls silently around you, covering you in a muffling blanket.

“You okay with sleeping in there?” Jungkook nods at the hotel sign, barely staying up above the entrance. Somebody’s scratched off the “T” and the “L” so it reads “HO E”.

“Anything’s better than sleeping in the car,” you tell him, and so the two of you jump out, and make a break for the hotel, scrambling to escape the bitter cold.

As Jungkook pulls the door open for you, you’re greeted with the smell of damp. You remind yourself of what you had said just a few seconds ago: Anything’s better than sleeping in the car. You’re beginning to doubt that.

Jungkook speaks to the tired looking receptionists, who hands you over a set of keys, telling him it’s the only room they have left.

“Thank you,” Jungkook smiles, before leading you towards the stairwell. The two of you make your way up the rickety old stairs, creaking under your weight.

“I’m regretting not packing a clean set of clothes,” Jungkook admits, as he locates your room down the corridor, “Or a toothbrush for that matter.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, “I didn’t bring those things either. We’ll just have to rough it together.”

Jungkook shrugs apologetically, “I really didn’t think the drive would take this long. Maps said it would only be a five hour drive.”

“That was without snow or Christmas traffic,” you remind him, as he fights with the door, trying to unlock it. With a couple of hard shoves, the door finally shudders open with a blood curdling creak, and you’re greeted with your room, if you could even call it a room. The whole space is taken up by a double bed, covered with grey sheets that might have been white once upon a time.

“Well,” Jungkook steps inside, “I’m beginning to think sleeping in the car might have been a better idea.”

“The car would certainly have had more space,” you laugh, closing the door behind you, with some force, so that it stays shut.

On closer inspection, the small door you had expected to be a cupboard turns out to be the en suit, almost the size of a cupboard itself.

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t bring any luggage,” you joke, “We’d have no room for it.”

“I suppose so,” Jungkook says, “If you want to look on the bright side.”

With no luggage with you, it doesn’t take the two of you long to get ready for bed. The two of you take the toothpaste the hotel left out for you, using your fingers to spread the paste around as best you can. It’s not the cleanest your teeth have ever been, but it’s better than nothing. That’s all you can say for this hotel in general. It’s better than nothing.

Defeated, the two of you crash into your bed, too tired to be embarrassed by the prospect of sharing a bed for the first time.

You roll away from Jungkook, snuggling the blankets up around you, and try to fall asleep. As soon as you close your eyes though, thoughts begin to bombard you, doubts springing up like daisies – what if Jungkook isn’t your soulmate, and this trip is all for nothing? Worse – what if the watchmaker reveals who Jungkook’s real soulmate is, and he goes off with them instead?

Rolling onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling, where, in the dim light from outside, you can see the shape of a damp patch on the ceiling. It looks like a map of the USA if you squint.

“You still awake?” Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence, raspy and deep.

“Yeah…”

“I can’t sleep,” Jungkook admits.

“Me neither.”

“What’s keeping you up?” Jungkook asks.

“Well,” you bite your lip, “I’m worried about what will happen once we find out when your watch was meant to come off… I’m worried I won’t be your soulmate.”

Jungkook considers this silently. You swallow, focussing on the strange USA-shaped damp patch on the ceiling.

“Well,” Jungkook finally speaks up, “I’ve been thinking… Even if it turns out that we’re not soulmates… I’d still like to be with you.”

You hadn’t been expecting that. You sit up, looking down at Jungkook. His eyes gleam up at you, reflecting the street lights from outside.

“What?” he asks, frowning up at your face.

“You mean that, Jungkook?”

His voice is soft, firm. “Of course I mean it. I like you. I like you a lot. And I get a sense I’m dangerously close to falling in love with you. Frankly, I don’t care if we’re soulmates. I want to be with you, regardless of what the watchmaker says. I want to see if we can make things work.” He pauses. “I’m sorry for last night. When we got back from clubbing. I guess I panicked because I thought we were moving too fast. And I was worried there was someone out there who was meant to be with you, when I wasn’t. But I can feel it now, even if I’m not your soulmate, I want to be yours – if you want me?”

The only answer you can give to that is to lean down over Jungkook, and press a gentle kiss to his warm lips. “I want that too,” you whisper the answer into his skin, lowering yourself back onto the bed. He wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer, and that’s the last thing you remember before sleep finally takes you captive.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Ten Years Ago]

You’re sitting on the swing in the village park, Jungkook on the swing beside you. The sky before you sparkles out with a kaleidoscope of stars, bright and clear with no clouds to hide them. Your breath comes out in clouds of fog as you push yourself back and forth.

“You said there was something you wanted to tell me?” you press Jungkook.

He asked you to come over and meet him, but you’ve spent the past few minutes talking over small, inconsequential things. You knew you would have to bring it up eventually, his reason for calling you out here.

“Yeah,” Jungkook huffs out a sigh, the mist of his breath rising in front of him, to melt into the air. “See, the thing is… I’m moving away.”

The whole world shifts then, like the earth, spinning on its orbit, has suddenly accelerated forward faster than you were prepared for. You’ve spent so much time with Jungkook, he’s one of your closest friends, one you’ve known for so long. A life without him in your small village seems like a different life entirely, lived in a new body – like you’re not yourself, like you’re losing a part of you.

“Oh,” is all you can say.

“It’s because of the divorce,” Jungkook explains, pushing himself back on the swing, and tipping his head back to stare up at the spilled contents of the milky-way. “My dad’s moving away, and taking me with him. Mum’s staying here.”

Of course, you already knew about the divorce. Nothing stayed a secret in the small village, and you had heard your neighbours whispering about Jungkook’s parents. Everyone had also managed to hear about Jungkook’s lack of a soulmate. He had told you about it soon after he found his watch himself, and you hadn’t had any way to respond, only being able to offer him a hug. You knew what it was like to have no soulmate – to face a future without the promise of a partner. But you couldn’t express that him. Not in any way that felt adequate for the weight of sadness you could feel around him.

“I see.” You know your replies are stiff, but you don’t know what else to say.

Silence ebbs in, feeling heavy in your ears. You stare up at the sky, where the stars wink back at you, offering no answer for the sudden empty feeling in your heart.

“I’ll miss you,” you say at last. It’s something you know you should say, and when you finally push it past your throat, you realise it’s easy to admit. You’ll miss Jungkook so much.

“I’ll miss you too,” he pushes himself around on his swing, so that he’s angled towards you, chains of the swing twisting. “I suppose I should confess this now before I leave…” he presses his lips together, “I thought that because the two of us are soulmate-less, the two of us might eventually end up together.”

“Like, soulmates… but not?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods.

You twist around in your swing as well, facing him. You’re grateful for the darkness of the park, which hides the blush on your face, as a swarm of emotions swim to the surface. You hadn’t considered it before, but it makes sense that the people who don’t have soulmates should be paired together. And Jungkook’s such a good friend. Isn’t that what a soulmate is anyway? A really good friend, who stays with you forever.

But Jungkook can’t stay with you forever.

“I would have liked that,” you admit, your heart jolting into your throat as you speak, and choking you up, so you can’t continue that thought any further.

“Me too,” Jungkook smiles sadly. Pushing himself up off the swing, he walks over to you, hands gripping onto the chains of the swing you’re sat on.

He’s so close that you can see the reflections of the orange streetlights in his dark brown eyes. The ghost of his breath waltzes across your cheeks.

You don’t quite realise what you’re doing, or what he’s doing, until his lips are upon yours, warm and soft.

The whole world seems to pause, as if it’s holding its breath, with the stars twinkling above your heads as the only indication that time is moving forward.

The kiss is short, barely a few seconds, but it’s now imprinted on your brain forever, repeating a thousand times over. A thought stabs painfully at you: If you never find your soulmate, that could be both your first and your last kiss.

Your stomach fills with ice, as Jungkook pulls away, murmuring, “I’ll miss you so much.”

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

[Present Day]

You awaken with Jungkook stirring beside you. Blinking, you look up to him with a smile as he sits up in bed, stretching his arms above his head. His hair is falling across his face, messy and tangled, but he looks better than he ever has as your heart fills with the hope that the two of you have a future together.

“You’ll never guess what,” Jungkook says, as he goes to open the curtains.

“What?”

Outside, the snow has calmed down, a snug blanket lying over the ground, leaving the world peaceful – a far contrast from the wild flurries of ice last night. Jungkook points out the window at the sign in the car park, “We’re only a mile away from the town the watchmaker lives in.”

And despite how awful the weather was last night, and how scared you were on the road with Jungkook, you can’t help but laugh. “I guess we better go find that damn watchmaker then, since we’ve come all this way.”

“Right!” Jungkook grins, “But remember, no matter what the outcome of all of this… we’ll stay together, so long as that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.” You’ve never been more sure.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

The centre of the town is bustling when you arrive. There are people milling around, some frantically buying last minute gifts, others out to enjoy the atmosphere and the bright Christmas light.

You feel like an oddity, scouring the streets for a watch shop while the rest of the town prepares for Christmas.

“This is it!” Jungkook’s voice directs you towards him, a few feet ahead of you, where he’s found the shop you were looking for. You run over to him, excited – until you see the ‘Closed for Christmas’ sign hanging on the door in cheery shades of red and green that don’t match your mood.

“No way,” you can’t hide the disappointment in your voice, “We drove all the way here...for this?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe we’re just not meant to know if we’re soulmates or not.”

You’re ready to turn around, and try to make the most of the town that you’ve taken so long to drive to – when you hear a voice from behind.

“Excuse me?”

You turn around to see a small old lady in front of you.

“Hello,” you say, smiling at her.

“Are you looking for the watchmaker?” she asks.

Jungkook nods, “We were. We heard he can wind back soulmate watches that have stopped, to see when their timer was meant to go off. Do you know if that’s true?”

The old lady gives a smile, her wrinkles stretching as she does so. “Yes, that’s so. Why were you wondering?”

“Well,” Jungkook pulls his watch out from his pocket. It’s silver chain glints in the Christmas lights. “We wanted to find out when this watch was meant to go off. It’ll help us figure out if we’re soulmates.”

“You don’t know if you're soulmates?” the old lady frowns.

“My watch fell off when I was very young,” you explain, “I was never sure if it was a malfunction or not. And Jungkook never wore his watch as a child, so we have no way of knowing if it was supposed to fall off with mine.”

“I see,” the old woman’s eyes twinkled, “It’s just that when I saw you as I walked past, I was so sure you were soulmates. This might sound strange, but the two of you remind me of myself and my husband when we were younger.”

You smile, a warmth spreading through your chest, heating your body despite the cold.

“Do you know who my husband is?” the old lady continues, with a twinkle in her eye, and you shake your head. She leans forward, as if she’s about to divulge a great secret. “He’s the watchmaker you’re looking for.” She smiles at the surprise settling on your face. “If you want, you can visit our house, and I’ll have him take a look at that watch.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Jungkook says, “I wouldn’t want to make him work on Christmas Eve if he’s taken the day off.”

“Oh nonsense,” the woman flaps her hands at Jungkook, wafting off his concerns. “It’s no problem. Consider it an act of good Christmas cheer.”

Jungkook glances at you, and you give a reassuring smile. “That’s very kind,” you say, “We’d love to take you up on the offer if it’s not too much trouble.”

The lady’s wrinkled face breaks into a smile. “No trouble at all!”

You find yourself being led down twisting roads towards the old lady’s house as she tells you about how she and her husband met – in a situation similar to yours. Her husband had been wearing his watch. She hadn’t. She told you that when she was younger she used to believe that soulmates were a farce, and so refused to wear her watch. When she bumped into her future husband, she hadn’t realised that she was the reason his watch fell off – it wasn’t until he chased her down the street with such determination not to loose her, waving his watch in her face, that he managed to convince her that soulmates were worth believing in.

“That’s how my husband got into mending watches, you see,” the lady goes on, as you walk beside her, Jungkook on her other side, “He wants to help people who are unsure who their soulmates are.”

You smile at Jungkook, as the lady points up ahead, “That’s my house. We’re almost there.”

As she unlocks the door, she calls for her husband, before bustling towards the kitchen. “Let me make you a cup of tea.”

You’re ushered into a quaintly decorated living room, with a steaming cup of tea placed into hand, explaining your situation to the watchmaker, as he turns over Jungkook’s watch in his hands.

“I’ll see what I can do with this then,” the old man says, with a kind smile, taking the watch into his back room. You watch him through the open door, as he fixes his glasses on his face, and begins work.

By your side, Jungkook’s hand comes to rest on your knee – a gentle reminder that even if the watch tells that you aren’t soulmates, he’ll still be there for you.

The wait is long – or maybe it only seems that way, because you’re aware that you’re waiting. You try to listen carefully, as the old lady keeps you entertained, telling stories of other couples her husband has helped, but at the back of your mind, Jungkook’s soulmate watch keeps flashing up, in shades of silver.

At last, with the all of the tea drunk, the watchmaker emerges from his work room, handing the watch back to Jungkook.

“Well?” You can tell Jungkook is holding his breath.

“That watch was set to go off sixteen years ago,” the watchmaker says, “To be precise it was set to go off on the fourth of September, sixteen years ago, at quarter past nine.”

Your gaze falls on Jungkook. His eyes are a mirror of your own – shining, wide and bright. You don’t need to check. You’ve got the date memorised by heart – the day you lost your watch, the day that Jungkook careened into your life on his tricycle, destroying your watch, and making your life all the better by existing in it.

“Well, is that the date you were hoping for?” the watchmaker asks, but his wife quickly shushes him:

“Can’t you tell from their faces. That’s the right date alright!”

You can’t hold back as you barrel into Jungkook’s arms, not even caring that you’re being watched. He’s planting kisses across your face, spreading warmth along the paths his lips travel.

Of course, you knew that he would stay with you, even if you weren’t soulmates. And that these kisses would come, even if the date differed. But a part of you also knew that you were soulmates all along, that you didn’t need a watchmaker to tell you the truth. You didn’t need to check what you already knew – what the whole village knew. Maybe you really were an idiot for not believing all this time. The boy who broke your soulmate watch, was the boy who was your soulmate all along.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

It’s almost midnight by the time you make it back to your village, the Christmas lights still illuminating the small streets, warm and familiar, as Jungkook’s car pulls up in your drive.

“Is it alright if I stay the night?” Jungkook asks.

“You’re always welcome,” you tell him, getting out of the car, and leading him to the house.

The both of you are still too excited by the events of the day to go to sleep, so you end up on the couch, with mugs of instant hot chocolate steaming in your hands.

“So, where do we go from here?” you ask Jungkook. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do once you get a soulmate. Especially if you’ve known this soulmate for most of your life.

“Well, for one thing,” Jungkook says, sipping on his hot chocolate, “I’m going to have to start taking more trips to see my mum.”

“You mean trips to see me,” you nudge him with your foot.

“Of course,” he bows his head graciously, “Obviously I’ll be coming over to see you. But we can at least pretend for my mum’s sake. Make her feel special.”

You laugh. “That’s odd for someone who doesn’t get on with his mum.”

Jungkook shrugs. “She might have been misguided, but in the end, her actions didn’t stop me from finding who I was meant to be with. And I suppose I never really needed the watch, even though I thought I did. So maybe she was onto something after all, even if she didn’t realise that herself.”

You nod, “I know what you mean. It’s like I’ve always known on a subconscious level that I was going to fall for you.”

Jungkook’s ears turn pink with pleasure. “So you’d say you’ve fallen for me?”

“Obviously. Completely. Head over heels.”

On the wall across from you, the clock ticks over from 11:59 to 00:00.

“Happy Christmas,” Jungkook smiles across at you.

“Happy Christmas, Jungkook.”

- END -

2K notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 4 years

Text

SS3 - MYG, Fluff, 1791w

You’re not even supposed to be on the pay roll anymore because you’re supposed to be phasing yourself out of work entirely. There’s a new intern that you’ve been training a few days a week to take over for you until he’s competent enough to let you fully withdraw from your position as secretary to the CEO of Min Corp.

Said intern has just called you with what sounds like tears thickening his voice to inform you that Min Yoongi, said CEO, is terrorizing the employees.

“Jungkook,” you use the same tone you might use to calm down a lost toddler in a grocery store. “Take a deep breath for me please.”

A shaky breath crackles through your phone speaker.

“Good. Now tell me what Yoongi’s doing. What do you mean he’s terrorizing people?”

“Yoongi—I mean, Mr. Min has made three separate IT workers cry because of jammed printer and he sent the head accountant into a panic attack with a request for a two week advance on the quarter reports.”

You sigh and lift a hand that was submerged in the fragrant bath you’d drawn to pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“Did you read the 3rd section of the binder I gave you? There should be stuff in there for when we need to increase speed in specific departments. There’s outside agents we can enlist—”

“I called them, and they’ve agreed to come help out and I’ve gotten the paperwork for their payments ready.”

“Okay. What about the printer?”

“I unjammed it myself. It s-seems to be working fine.”

“Good! So just tell him and I’m sure that’ll solve things.”

“I don’t—I don’t feel super comfortable talking to him right now.”

“Jungkook, I told you that Yoongi is normally very rational. If you tell him the problem’s solved, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

He’s quiet then. The sound of paper small clinks in the background grab your attention.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just...he also,” Jungkook sniffs a meek little sound, “knocked over my lego replica of the office. It was an accident though—”

“I’ll leave in 5 minutes. Don’t let him leave his office, barricade the door if you have to.”

It’s defeated tone of voice that makes you get out of the tub you were soaking in. Water gets everywhere and the calming atmosphere you had painstakingly set up so you could have a lazy morning and afternoon is long gone.

Jungkook barely has any time to protest or beg you not to mention him calling you before you hang up.

Normally Yoongi is all bark and no bite. There’s no need to bite when his reputation as a former gangbanger preceded him so well. Too well, in some cases. Yoongi came from almost nothing and turned to illegal activities as a child in an act of desperation to care for his ailing mother. He’d learned about (legal) business after one of his elderly bosses took a liking to him and showed him some of the ropes.

Even after he started getting out of the gang and getting interested in business, it took years to get past the fearful glances and rejections that so many people in the industry sent his way. It was only after a lucky investment that he was able to start building his business from scratch.

Now, he’s able to care for his family and provide means for his employees to do the same while running a successful head hunting firm. When you were fresh out of college and looking for work anywhere, he was the only one that took a chance on your meager application. He was ruthless back then, but so were you.

So in 9 years of acting as his right hand, it was inevitable that you would learn about his past. No one else at the company knew that it nearly cost him his life to start this new chapter. He has the scar on his shoulder to prove it. Sometimes when it gets close to a certain time of year the memory of what he almost lost creeps over him.

When you finally arrive you find Jungkook gnawing on his thumb as he eyes the door to Yoongi’s office unblinkingly. The walls of the office are soundproofed to protect the confidentiality of his clients when he has important meetings and phonecalls, but you can still hear the way he snarls into the phone.

“How long has he been like that,” you ask as you hang up your coat behind Jungkook’s desk. The lego office lies in a heap of probably more than a thousand pieces in a pilfered custodian’s bucket. You can’t help but frown.

“About 20 minutes on the phone. Maybe a few hours today in general.”

“Alright. I'll go in.”

“Is that safe,” he eyes you with poorly hidden awe as you move towards the door.

“Is a zookeeper safe when they enter a tiger’s cage?”

“No?”

“That’s your answer, I guess.”

“Seokjin, I don’t give a flying fuck about the new cases. I gave those to your team weeks ago. Bring me an update on the Simmons case, or I swear I’ll come down there and pull it out your ass myself.”

The sound of the door to the office closing has him rushing to end the call so he can redirect the yelling. He tosses his phone back onto the glass surface of his desk with a harsh crack and turns to face the skyline in the window, his back facing you.

“I thought I told you I don’t want any more of that shit you call tea. It’s doing fuck all to calm me down so why don’t you—”

“Mr. Min, please take a seat.”

The line of his shoulders, already grimly hunched, shoots up further. He clearly wasn’t expecting you. It’s your day off. Technically.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is still low and tense, but the volume is significantly softer.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Min.”

There’s no need for pretenses when the two of you are alone. You could curse him with the foulest language you have for being an ass to the people who keep his company functioning like the well oiled machine that it is. But you know that your message is that much louder by using your professional voice with him.

He turns then, dark brows set heavy over stormy eyes. It would be incredibly intimidating if it weren’t for the slight turn in his lower lip giving him a subtle petulant expression. Someone’s having a bad day.

Grumbling the entire time, Yoongi takes himself to the long leather sofa that rests off to the side of the office. You make your way over to the couch as well after peering at his desk. It’s covered in papers as if he dumped onto the table one of the folders that he normally organizes with great care. The collection of expensive fountain pens that he’s received as gifts from various successful deals lay strewn about as well. And there’s a hairline crack running through the surface of the ornate globe he received as a birthday gift from one of his old bosses.

When you finally come to stand behind him, the grumbling has been replaced with silent fuming. His arms are crossed and his silk tie hangs like a dead snake around his neck after being roughly undone.

With no words, you reach forward and slide the shoulders of his jacket down his arms.

“You don’t have to,” he sighs a moment later. If you listen closely you can already hear the embarrassment from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Ignoring him, you dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He jumps and lets out a hiss as you drag the pads of your fingers over the raised skin of his scar beneath the fine cotton of his button down. A low curse leaves his lips but nothing more comes out as you continue to untangle the muscles that had somehow knotted up impressively during the few hours of the day that had passed. You can only imagine how painful the actual injury is despite it having healed a little more than a decade ago.

It takes a while and your hands cramp up with the amount of force you’re using to massage the pain away. When there’s merely a phantom ache, he raises a hand to grasp one of yours. The action has you freezing up this time. He turns his head so the soft skin of his cheek brushes against your wrist. His cheeks are damp from a few pained tears he shed. His lips press dryly against the back of your palm and he turns more so he can pull your hand forward. It’s awkward but he doesn’t care. So long as he can pepper small kisses against your hands.

“Come back to work,” he says finally.

“No.”

“Marry me, then.” There’s no flair, no drama. He says it like he’s asking you to run an errand with him.

“No. And stop always asking me that.”

“I’ll stop asking when you stop saying no.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you’ve never given a reason. I deserve that at least.”

He turns to face you then with eyes that are just a tad bit shiny. All of the sharp, feline essence gone when replaced by frustration that’s still plenty fond.

“Because I don’t feel like it yet. And it’s fun to tell you no.”

From this angle, you can see the very top of the tiger tattoo he got when he was not yet a man. It peaks out of from underneath his collar. You pick up his tie and loop it back around his neck while he’s distracted.

“Have pity on me” he lays his cheek back on your wrist as you finish up a simple Windsor knot. “I’m just a simple man who wants to settle down with the love of his life.”

“How about you go apologize to everyone for your outburst,” he winces but looks properly ashamed. “And then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

“And make sure you give a special apology to Jungkook for ruining his replica.”

“To the temp, are you kidding me? The kid put it on the edge where it was begging to get broken. I’m pretty sure the tail of my jacket did it.”

“Just do it, Yoongi.”

He leans in then, nose brushing against yours. “Say yes and I’ll even hire someone to rebuild it for him.”

“Go apologize already.”

He huffs but strides to the door with purpose.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

#bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #yoongi.net #btswriters #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff

106 notes · View notes

eleventoes · 5 years

Text

chasing fire | one-shot

❮ a oneshot from the all you’d never see series ❯ pairing: hoseok x reader; soulmate!au | fluff, a tad bit of angst word count: 7.1k ♪ : chasing fire - lauv (duh), no reason - heize warning(s): none synopsis:

You, Hoseok, and all the ways you fit together, jagged edges and all.

***

You are in your third year of high school, bleary-eyed and weary, when bright-eyed and cheery Jung Hoseok waltzes into your classroom and is immediately assigned to the seat next to yours.

It takes you one glance, just one, to decide firmly to yourself that he was the kind of person that you’ll only ever cross paths with once; like a pair of tangents, if you are trying to be poetic.

It also takes you one horrified downwards glance at the inside of your wrist where the soulmate timer dramatically ticks to zero to realise that you are dead wrong.

For a split second, you wonder if there has been some kind of mistake; Hoseok doesn’t seem to have noticed anything, only casting you a curious look before dropping his bag onto the floor and sliding into his seat. Suddenly tense, you try to school your expression back into one of indifference, smoothly tucking your hands beneath your thighs.

It isn’t a conscious decision to hide your timer, it just feels instinctual—to hide and wait it out until the confusion fades.

So you wait, gnawing on your bottom lip the whole time Jung Hoseok digs around in his bag for food and whips out a burger that he starts munching on. The crinkling of the burger wrapper, the incessant tapping of someone’s pen on their desk, the steady rushing of your blood in your ears: it all gets too much to bear, and you could feel yourself getting more on edge with every passing minute.

Except: Hoseok never realises his timer has ticked down to zero; never sends you a petrified glance, and never notices the billion and one times you try to steal a glimpse of him. He only finishes his burger, tries in vain to stifle a yawn, and dozes off on his desk twelve minutes later in the middle of first period.

You stare disapprovingly at his drooling form, your pen gliding across the pages as you try your hardest to take notes without having your thoughts stray to the zeroes burning on your wrist.

The two of you will never work out, that much you’re sure of.

***

You are two weeks into the academic year, and here’s the thing: everyone knows Jung Hoseok, because the other thing is: it’s downright impossible not to. It’s simple, really; he’s cheerful, for one, and is impossibly easy-going. The kind of guy who’d be easy to fall into, the kind of guy who’d be easy to get along with.

Most people have issues settling down when they transfer in their third year of high school, but for all the reasons stated above, Jung Hoseok fits in perfectly fine.

That, and he has a really pretty smile, but every time you see him he’s either half-asleep in class or plainly snacking on junk food, so you can’t really ascertain whether or not his smile can “rival the sun” or whatever it is that a couple of first years had squealed about when you passed them in the hallway.

And so the thing is: everyone knows Jung Hoseok, i.e Namjoon and Jimin are hardly exceptions, and you don’t know why you thought otherwise.

“Hey, remember that dance showcase I was talking about?” Jimin talks loudly through a huge mouthful of rice, the grains spewing out and a couple landing on your shirt. You scrunch your nose in disgust and flick the grains back at him before you let out an affirming grunt.

He probably couldn’t hear you over the loud buzz of the school cafeteria, and repeats himself, spurting even more half-chewed rice everywhere, much to the ire of both you and Namjoon. But Namjoon ends up only sighing resignedly, and you follow, because Jimin is Jimin and will always be Jimin.

The three of you had grown up together; and by grown up together, you mean this: you, Namjoon, and Jimin had lived in houses directly across from each other all your lives, and were the only kids in your neighbourhood that hovered around the same age range, so the ensuing playdates were practically already set in stone. That being said, both you and Namjoon just ended up babysitting a very adorable but bratty Jimin more often than not, though the latter had mellowed out a lot as he entered adolescence.

The snot-nosed brat you had seen in diapers had then easily landed himself in the same high school a year after you and Namjoon had been accepted, and had been too shy to make new friends that he ended up spending every lunch break glued to your sides. That is, until he found his soulmate in one Kim Taehyung, and started to cancel on lunch plans with increasing frequency, that traitor.

Said traitor is talking again, this time with his mouth not full, “Turns out Jung Hoseok is joining the team; he’s picking dance as his extracurricular.”

You frown, unsure of what to do with this information and not liking where this conversation is going, but before you can feign indifference with a weak ‘yeah and?’ Namjoon beats you to it, chiming in, “I’ve seen him around the underground rap scene too, he seems like a cool guy.”

Jimin visibly brightens at that, and if you were uncertain before, now you definitely do not like the direction this is going in, “Great! So the two of you kind of know each other, I was worried it’d be awkward since I invited him to join us for lunch today.”

“You what?”

Both your friends turn to give you a curious raise of the brow (the resemblance between the two is uncanny; amazing what growing up together can do to people), but only Jimin speaks, slowly this time, with his tone riddled with confusion, “I invited him to lunch? Since he’s new and all, and it’ll be nice to get to know him.”

Then he glances at how your knuckles have turned white from clutching onto your chopsticks too tight, “Unless you don’t want him here? It’s no big deal, I could just—”

“No, it’s okay,” you resume eating to regain back some semblance of normalcy, shovelling chicken down your throat at breakneck speed, “It’s cool. I’m cool.”

Namjoon squints at you.

Jimin squints at you.

You squirm, “I’m fine, I promise.”

Cue: Jung Hoseok shows up, lunch tray in hand and easy smile on his face, and you’re not really fine. You make the startling realisation that his smile really is as pretty as they claimed it to be, and at the same time, your heart thumps loudly in your chest as your soulmate timer throbs almost painfully.

Curse the goddamned universe; you never asked for this.

“Uh, is she okay?” you hear Hoseok whisper to Jimin while he slides into his seat, lunch forgotten and focused only on peering worriedly at how the colour is slowly leaving your face.

So yeah, you freeze up a bit, it’s not like you can help it, seriously.

“Don’t mind her, she gets all weird sometimes,” Jimin’s attempt to brush it off with a laugh is really not doing it for anyone, but Hoseok lets it slide, because it’d be weirder not to.

Hoseok promptly proceeds to spend the rest of lunch being really nice company; he’s funny, and doesn’t overshare. He asks about what everyone’s up to, who’s dating who, and shares a couple of hilarious anecdotes.

You stay silent during the entire time he’s here, until the bell for fifth period rings and you mumble an excuse to leave.

Jung Hoseok is nice, and that scares you even more.

***

Here’s something that has probably been said one too many times, but you’re going to say it again anyway: you don’t believe in love. Not the love-at-first-sight kind, not the I’d-follow-you-to-the-end-of-the-world kind, and definitely not we-were-meant-to-be-together kind.

It’s all bullshit to you, and that’s putting it nicely.

People are cold; you’d seen it all growing up, when you were eight years old and had your face pressed up excitedly against the window while waiting for your father to come home, only to see him swapping spit with someone who’s definitely not your mother. People grow tired of each other; and you’ve witnessed that firsthand when you were ten and had to watch your mother numbly drink herself to sleep after their third fight of the week. (Yes, you counted, on your stubby little fingers, before you cried yourself to sleep every night.)

Most of all, people keep up appearances; as far as the business world was concerned, your parents were a power couple, the perfect match: a charismatic man with extraordinary business sense and a woman who was as intelligent as she was beautiful. It’s almost as if fate had outdone themselves by pairing them up together, but then again, no one knew that behind closed doors, they really were just two tired individuals stuck in a loveless marriage, bound by numbers on their wrists.

Seeing Jimin with Taehyung makes you doubt yourself sometimes; maybe love does exist for some special people out there, the kind of people with the purest of hearts and the sweetest of souls. If there was anything you can trust to never change, it is the way they’d look at each other as if they’d gladly give each other their entire world.

But then again, you can never know what’ll happen in the future, some asshole somewhere in your head will unhelpfully supply, and you’ll wave that thought away as you try to tamp down the guilt in your gut.

Regardless, even if love exists for some people, you know with burning certainty that the same will never apply to you.

“You’re too wrapped up in your own head, try and be a little less selfish, and maybe then people would learn to like you,” your mother had said to you one night, pausing for a bit before downing her glass of brandy.

“You always seem uninterested, I’m sorry that we bore you,” 14-year old Woo Seori had sneered in your face during third period gym, and had never spoken to you again since.

So you try to reach out more even when you feel like withering away on the inside, smile more even when you don’t feel like it, and ask empty questions you never mean just to fill up silent voids. You take care to never come across as selfish, and it snowballed into you always bottling up things that actually matter.

Because, even if you are undeserving of love, you never want to be left all alone.

Eventually, the effort becomes too much, and you stop, deciding to only let a few people in and keep even fewer people close.

Both Jimin and Namjoon got sick of whacking you upside the head and forcing you to reconsider your skewed perceptions over the years, but Namjoon especially, has always been extra pushy when it comes to testing your “people limits”, as he called it.

Which explains why he’s pulling the Childhood Friend card and dragging you kicking and thrashing out of your room on a Friday night for some live performance at some bar.

At least, that was all you caught from him before you spat out something like “hey look 2chainz” so that you can pull out of his hold and sprint back up to your room, but Namjoon, for all his clumsiness, can run pretty damned fast when he tries, so you didn’t get too far.

Twenty minutes later, you are defeatedly strapped into a taxi (because Kim Namjoon actually owning a drivers’ license should be illegal), presentably dressed and grumpy, “Why am I here and where are you taking me.”

Namjoon is looking slightly weary after the whole debacle, but the triumph on his face is clear, “Hoseok’s invited me to his performance down at the Blue Side tonight, so you’re coming along. And Jimin’s meeting us there with Taehyung, in case you’re wondering.”

“And why am I here again?” you complain loudly, throwing half your limbs over Namjoon in hopes that he’ll somehow relent. Fat chance, because he only squirms his way out of your hold with practiced ease.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” he doesn’t even look at you when he says that, gazing out the taxi window like he’s some melodramatic lead in a 2009 Taylor Swift music video.

“What do you mean?”

“You act really strange around Hoseok; oh come on, I’m in the same class, you didn’t think I noticed?” huffing, Namjoon finally turns to look at you, eyes as unwavering as they were 10 years ago when he first told you he accidentally snapped your favourite doll in half, “And that isn’t helping things.”

You follow his line of vision, which eventually lands on—oh, your soulmate timer. Really, you’ve been covering it up as much as you can without being too obvious about it, but nothing ever gets past Namjoon, and you should really know that by now.

“I—“

“I’m not gonna ask you to tell me everything,” he cuts in gently, warm palm giving yours a squeeze, just like he did when you were kids, “Just promise me to stop shutting yourself in and give it a chance, okay?”

Even you don’t believe the flimsy and weak “okay” that escapes your lips, but Namjoon seems satisfied regardless and shoots you a full-blown dimpled smile.

You smile tentatively back, letting out a slow exhale as the cab pulls up to the back entrance to Blue Side and Namjoon leads you in. (“Performers’ privileges,” he explains when you give him a questioning raise of the brow.)

And expectedly, the bar is everything you hate and more. It’s not as if it’s your first time here; Namjoon is a regular performer here so you’ve been around a couple times to cheer him on, but you can never really get used to the suffocating crowd and the mass of sweaty bodies. The heat always gets too much for you to bear and each time you’re here you just end up gravitating towards empty booths at the back.

Your plans are effectively foiled by a petulant Namjoon who refuses to let you slide into a booth all by yourself, and he drags you all the way to the front of the hyped up crowd. Hoseok’s already starting to amp up the performance by the time the two of you push your way through, and there isn’t a simpler way to put this: he radiates.

He’s laid-back and spits fire at the same time, his movements so fluid that it almost appears as if he’s gliding across the small wooden stage: a natural-born performer. Only dressed in a t-shirt and some ripped jeans, but he commandeers the crowd with immense energy and control. Watching him is magnetizing, the pull towards him is strong, and it all gets too overwhelming for you in the moment, with your timer still throbbing and throbbing and your head still pounding from the noise and the heat and yet in spite of it all—

You can’t look away.

The two of you lock eyes for a moment right after he ends off the performance, and you think you can see the corners of his lips twitching up into a smile, but it’s too much to handle, so much that it’s only instinctual for you to rip your eyes away from his and to do one thing you do best: run away.

***

A couple of years ago, you had a big fight with Namjoon.

Growing up with each other is pretty much synonymous with invading personal space and crossing boundaries; it’s easy to get lost between the blurred lines, and it’s easy to catch feelings if you’re not careful. That was essentially what had happened to Namjoon, with whom you spent too much time lounging around with, legs crossed over each other’s, breaths mingling when you wrestle him to the floor one too many times.

He’d confessed, and in your confusion you’d shut yourself out. Okay, and you’d also said some hurtful things, like how he’d only liked you because he hadn’t had a soulmate timer, and then he’d said something about your lack of self-worth incapacitating your emotional capacity, and then Jimin had cried while being stuck in the middle of it all.

You had made up not long after, because a frustrated Jimin was truly a force to be reckoned with, but the point is you should have learnt to stop shutting yourself away when things are bothering you, yet you seem fiercely determined to live life with the motto that all would be well if you just stop thinking about it.

So, against all better judgement (you have a Namjoon in your head screaming at you, but you don’t even listen to the real Namjoon, so the Namjoon in your head can just shut up), you ignore the problem and wait for it to snowball into something big, because you’re an idiot.

Which explains this: Jung Hoseok has tried to approach you a total of seven (7) times, all of which you had either gone to extreme measures just to avoid, or had shot him a placating smile before reaching for your bag and scrambling for the nearest exit.

Which then explains this: the Chemistry teacher is presently in the middle of a very important lecture about ionic equilibrium, and you are trying your best to zone out, but Hoseok isn’t even trying to give you a break. Actually, he’s pelting you with paper balls every chance he gets.

“Stop that,” you hiss, one hand reaching for the one that landed directly on top of your head.

“No,” he replies simply, tearing another corner of his worn textbook to toss at you, “Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

You’re embarrassed he noticed; you didn’t think he’d care, “I wasn’t…avoiding you?”

“Yeah that was convincing,” he doesn’t stop with the paper assault, but does pause for a second to jot down some things on the board, “Come on, did I do something wrong?”

“No—”

“The two of you over in the back,” Mr Kang not so kindly interrupts, with his googly glasses perched on the edge of his nose and all, “Maybe you should take your conversation outside.”

The class sniggers, and there’s a little commotion when your horrified look contrasted sharply with Hoseok’s cheeky grin, but soon enough the two of you were outside the classrooms and in the corridor, having being made to stand with both your arms raised high above your heads.

It’s suddenly silent when it’s just the two of you outside, and all you can hear is the steady clunk of chalk hitting the board every once in a while, all while your timer throbs and throbs and throbs.

And then—

“Won’t you tell me why?”

Maybe you’re imagining things, but he looks crestfallen and a little hurt, with his usual confidence mellowing down to hesitation and uncertainty.

Your timer throbs and throbs and throbs, and for fuck’s sake you’d really like to fling your wrist across the Pacific if you could get it to stop doing that. The sensation is far from welcomed, and it makes you all fidgety, like there was an itch beneath your skin.

“I know about us,” Hoseok suddenly speaks again, steely eyes training themselves on you after darting briefly to your half-exposed wrist.

The world stops, and you feel your fingers go cold, “About…what?”

His gaze hardens, but the hurt never leaves his eyes, “Don’t play dumb with me, I knew we were soulmates the day I first stepped into that classroom.”

“You knew?”

“Yeah,” hesitantly, he lowers both his arms, rolling up his left sleeve and stretching out his hand so that his timer is on full display, “I didn’t say anything because you looked so…disappointed when you figured it was me.”

Suddenly the floor looks really interesting, and you really want to be looking into anything but Hoseok’s sad eyes right now. You slowly lower your arms as well, fiddling with your sleeves so that your timer is no longer hidden; he deserves the truth, at the very least.

“I wasn’t disappointed,” you start, and try as you might, you can’t really keep the wobble out of your voice, “I just…didn’t think we would ever work out.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to speak, or maybe to curse you out, you’re not really sure because you cut him off, “We’re too different, and besides—”

You look down, your fingers rubbing small circles on your timer as if that’ll make the ink disappear.

“—I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Then there’s silence again, until all you can hear is once again the sound of chalk hitting the board. Another beat of silence passes and you can’t help but sneak a look at Hoseok.

Except he’s already looking back at you.

“You don’t have to,” he says softly, fingers grasping lightly at your wrist before lifting your hand up, pressing his lips gently onto the edge of your timer in a featherlight kiss, “You just need to believe in us.”

And your timer throbs and throbs and throbs.

***

Stiff dress with a ridiculously tight waistline: check. Random pearl necklace hanging around your neck as if it doesn’t cost more than your life: check. Sweaty palms and inflexible fingers: check.

The floor-length mirror right in front of you doesn’t show you what you want to see: you look as nervous as you feel.

It also shows: Hoseok hovering shyly at the entrance to the backroom, with slicked-back hair and a fitted navy tux to boot. Your first thought is that he looks exactly like the prince in every fairytale you’ve watched as a kid, but the first thing that you say is this:

“Why are you here?”

You turn around as best as you can on your stubby heels, rounding up on Hoseok and trying to sound accusatory but really just sounding like a panicked mess. It’s an important piano recital; some scouts from that music scholarship will be here, your piano teacher will be here, and more importantly, your parents and their little network of snobs will be watching. In short, you cannot afford to mess this up.

Hoseok’s eyes soften, the way they do every time he’s looking at you (and you always pretend to never notice), “Jimin couldn’t make it tonight, so he gave me his ticket.”

“That little traitor,” you curse weakly, because your stomach’s a bundle of nerves and also because it is not the first time Park Jimin is bailing on you to spend a night in with Taehyung.

Hoseok hovers for a moment more, before realising that every other performer has been called backstage and that the backroom is empty. He moves in awkward, short movements, like he isn’t really comfortable in his skin, and parks himself on a stool near the dressing table, hands between his legs like he’s not entirely sure what to do with them.

“Do you…not like that I’m here?” he asks, and you haven’t heard him this vulnerable ever since that day outside the classroom. Of course, you’ve seen him around since then, because Namjoon is relentless in dragging you to all of Hoseok’s gigs at the bar, and because Hoseok seemed to have picked up a habit of hanging around the music room when you’re practicing after school, and it had all been easy conversations and breezy smiles on his end.

You feel compelled to answer his vulnerability with nothing but honesty; for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel like running away.

“No, it’s not like that. You just,” you say while taking a few steps forward, noting your own trembling hands because you refuse to look him in the eye, “You make me nervous.”

“Happens to most people. I have irresistible charm.”

There he goes with that summery smile of his again; it’s like you and your stupid heart just can’t catch a break. You can’t help but let out a short laugh though, which is to be expected, really, Hoseok’s smiles are known for being contagious.

“You’ll be great out there. You’re already fantastic every time I hear you in the music room.”

“I don’t know,” you don’t notice immediately but somehow your voice has dropped to a whisper, “There’s going to be so many people watching.”

Gently, Hoseok takes your hands into his, and you take a moment to absent-mindedly marvel at his smooth palms and warm hands, “I’ll be watching.”

“I literally just said that you make me nervous,” you deadpan, but you don’t pull away. There’s just something about him that pulls you in; he’s like the sun, and you’re constantly being lulled into his orbit.

“And like I just said, you’re going to be great out there,” he smiles again, and if he could just stop smiling, maybe your heart can actually start beating normally again and you wouldn’t be worrying about the onset of a heart attack at the tender age of 18.

The stage coordinator, Yoona, peeks her head through the doorway, a knowing look on her face when she looks from you to Hoseok, “I know I’m definitely interrupting something here, but we need to get you backstage now. Come back after the show, lover boy.”

She’s probably laugh at how the two of you flush at the same time if she weren’t so busy hissing at the technical crew through her walkie talkie, but she only gestures for Hoseok to follow her out before she’s rambling about microphone set-ups and stage lights again.

With a parting squeeze on your hand, Hoseok mouths a quick goodbye before he leaves the backroom with Yoona, and you try to think about Chopin’s Etude in G# Minor rather than the persistent throbbing of your timer on your wrist and the blush high on your cheeks.

And when the curtains open to a stage that belongs only to you, you couldn’t help but seek solace in the audience. Only when you find a pair of bright eyes do you take a deep breath, and begin to play.

***

When you were younger, your parents had tried to get you into ballet the same way they had gotten you into piano: by dragging you screaming and kicking to lessons that they had signed you up for without your consent.

Piano worked out well in the end; you found the big black shiny piano beautiful, and you seemed to hold some semblance of musical talent in those small fingers of yours, so it stayed, and you stopped kicking up a fuss whenever the babysitter of the week took you out for your weekly lessons.

Ballet was a separate story altogether, and it all came down to your and your lack of hand-eye coordination. Your limbs were too stiff, you were too awkward moving in front of people, you were unable to follow rhythms with your body, and the list goes on and on.

You’d eventually quit, but you’d always wondered how it was like to move so freely, and to express that with your entire being. It makes sense that Hoseok would be perfect at this; he wears his heart out on his sleeve, and it feels almost like he gives a little bit of himself to everyone he meets.

He loves freely, cries easily, and only says things he means with his entire heart. So it makes sense that he dances freely, moves easily and only performs with all of the passion that one soul can possibly hold.

When he dances, he’s like fire; ablaze and alive all on its own, uncontained like the way it should be, and the brightest amongst all. Almost a thousand people in the audience, and every single one of them are simultaneously electrified, eyes drawn to his radiance on stage.

It amazes and scares you at the same time; the radiance blinds you, and you’re not ever sure that you would measure up to perfection personified.

But you still show up at every single performance ever since Hoseok’s abashed invitation to the first major dance showcase earlier in the year: music festivals, b-boying competitions, the occasional beach parties.

Sometime later in the year you start to think, that if Hoseok was fire, then you’d rather risk a burn than not experience its warmth at all.

***

Jimin and Taehyung look unimpressed, and if you look a little closer, you can even see their left eyes twitching in sync, like the perfect pair of soulmates they are.

Namjoon would have joined in if he hadn’t bailed on the outing, because quote unquote, “I must look like an idiot to you if you think I’m gonna spend my Saturday fifth-wheeling two of the most annoying couples I know”.

The four of you were standing next to the cotton candy kiosk in the middle of Lotte World, and if your lives were an American sit-com, there’d be dramatic close-ups for a good 30 seconds while all of you stand facing each other.

“Why do you like these things?” Hoseok outright whines, and he even pulls out all the stops, including the puppy eyes he knows you cannot refuse.

“Rollercoasters are the reason I exist, Hobi,” you huff back, and this time your weapon of choice is a pout.

“And you call me dramatic.”

The whole stare-off concludes when you give in to his kicked-puppy look (because let’s face it, it was going to happen anyway). Shortly after, Jimin and Taehyung roll their eyes and announce that they’re taking on the rollercoasters no matter what, so the four of you go your separate ways.

The rest of the amusement park date was spent with Hoseok clinging on to you like an overgrown koala bear and kissing you all over while you go on a personal mission to eat every flavour of ice cream available, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

“Horror,” you glare at Hoseok from the other side of the couch.

“Action,” he glares back, though his is significantly less threatening in part due to the massive handful of popcorn he has stuffed in his mouth.

“Horror,” Jungkook, Hoseok’s adorable next-door neighbour whom you’ve somehow managed to befriend within the span of two short weeks, chimes in, looking a little more excited than he should considering the fact that he’s a middle schooler who’s snuck out without telling his mom (and without doing his math homework).

“Jungkook, come on, take my side and we’ll put Iron Man on,” Hoseok turns sharply to grip Jungkook’s forearm pleadingly.

“Absolutely not, this will be the fourth time we’re watching Iron Man this month,” Yoongi scowls from the other side of the living room, having just emerged from the kitchen after microwaving the third batch of popcorn.

Looking around at the seven other people invading your previously big and empty living room, you realise all of a sudden that it’s amazing how quickly the two of you have integrated each other into your lives.

Movie nights used to be a haphazard affair between you and your two childhood friends; anytime you were all free the three of you just huddled on your too-big couch, put on a random movie and end up falling asleep on one another.

Now, movie nights were a sacred weekly event that happens strictly on Fridays. Fridays are when Hoseok and Jimin get off early from dance practice, Namjoon and Taehyung’s student council duties wrap up in the early afternoon, and you don’t have piano lessons scheduled. Jungkook’s Jungkook, so really, he just sneaks out whenever he wants to, so he’s irrelevant in this particular narrative. Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok’s childhood friends who were introduced to you soon after you stopped being an emotionally constipated moron, come back from their university dorms in the city and arrive in town every Friday evening.

And yes, they are both soulmates and roommates, so there’s that.

“I vote horror,” Yoongi grins as he settles into his space next to Seokjin on the adjacent loveseat, “I wanna see Hobi freak out like he did last Halloween.”

Liar, he just wants Seokjin to jump every ten seconds so that he can act all cool and nonchalant when Seokjin plasters his face to his chest, but you’ll take what you can get.

Amidst Hoseok’s vehement protests, lights are dimmed and The Exorcist is put on; and as expected, by the time the movie has reached its midpoint, Jimin and Taehyung both have their eyes glued to the screen, hands still tightly clasped together, while Jungkook had already emptied three bowls of popcorn. Yoongi’s looking too smug for someone who has to deal with a yelping Seokjin every 3 seconds, and Namjoon’s so invested in the movie he’s been asking and answering his own questions while people pay him no mind.

On your side, you’ve been laughing so hard at Hoseok’s reactions you’ve gotten stitches in your left side, and he’s given up entirely, choosing instead to just bury his head in your shoulder for the remainder of the movie.

And in the big penthouse where you’ve often been left all alone, you finally feel like you’re home.

***

Fall descends on all of you much like the withering leaves that flake off branches: slowly, steadily, and with a hint of melancholy. None of you really bring it up explicitly during conversations, but the college entrance exams are rapidly approaching, and with it comes questions about the future and the uncertainty it holds. For you and Hoseok, and for this little group of people you’ve come to cherish and love.

“It’s cold,” Hoseok complains while rubbing your hands together in a weak attempt to generate more body heat; jokes on him, your fingers are so cold they may as well be icicles.

“You’re cold,” you grumble, even though you’re all bundled up in a woollen sweater so large you look like you’re drowning, with a beanie pulled snugly over your ears. Hoseok only hums placatingly and pulls your beanie all the way down so that it covers even your eyes.

The walk to the town library feels longer than it used to, mainly because college exams were rounding up on you next month and the two of you have yet to discuss what you each plan to do with the rest of your lives. And now’s a good time as ever, except suddenly your tongue feels like lead in your mouth and your throat closes up when you try to speak.

Hoseok’s busy cooing over the tiny schoolchildren crossing the road across the street to notice that you’ve been silent this whole time.

He’s still squealing over this one kid with a duck hat when you steel yourself and say:

“I got a scholarship.”

That immediately shut him up, though you have to admit, that kid in the duck hat is pretty darn cute.

He turns to face you, slowly, and you would usually tease him for being dramatic, but he has his serious look on, and then the two of you aren’t even walking anymore.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you,” grinning widely, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, and you laugh before patting his shoulders rapidly because knowing Hoseok, he’d be dramatic again and start spinning you around out of nowhere.

He laughs again, and you laugh, and everything feels right, with the two of you and your matching beanies and the way the leaves fall perfectly all around you. And then—

“Where to?”

It’s an innocent question, of course it is, but it sucks all the joy out of you all the same.

“Boston, Hoseok,” the words can’t escape you fast enough, and you find yourself wanting to get it all out in the open so that this can finally stop weighing on your chest, “The school’s halfway across the world, but it’s Berklee, and I can’t believe I got accepted, I can’t believe that I was ever good enough for me to have a place there, but I love you so much I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Somewhere along the word vomit you had started crying, the ugly kind of crying, with fat tears leaking from your eyes and your nose running even more because of the weather. You vaguely register Hoseok making a sound of distress, before soft and warm hands were coming up to rub gently at your cheeks.

You think he sounds a little heartbroken when he says this.

“Why don’t you ever think you’re good enough?”

His words make you quiet; has this been it the whole time?

“Even when we first met, you were scared because you didn’t think you deserved someone who loves you as you should be loved,” his face was blurring because of all your tears, but his voice was firm, and unwavering, as he has always been, “And I wish you saw yourself the way I see you; a beautiful person who deserves the world and beyond.”

“I can’t give you the world, but I can give you all of me. And I promise you’d still have it all, whether you’re in Boston or right here with me.”

To his alarm, he makes you sob even harder. The scholarship letter had come in the mail last week, and the ensuing nights had been sleepless and filled with a million scenarios of how you’d lose the one person closest to your heart. The relief is overwhelming, and the weight of his love and his adoration for you washes over you, alongside habitual disbelief that anyone could ever love you so much and mean it.

Hoseok chuckles when he sees that you’re smiling through your choked up tears, and he hugs you even tighter, and it’s still so cold but you feel so warm.

It feels nice, to love and be loved, and to know that you are deserving.

***

It’s frustrating, how time passes so swiftly when you’re counting all the seconds and wishing for them to last longer.

You want to collect them all: quiet moments spent in the library with you pelting paper balls at Hoseok’s head until he stops drooling over his worksheets, movie nights being temporarily replaced by study sessions led by Namjoon (while Jungkook games on your console, with Yoongi and Seokjin napping on the couch like the old men they are), the gang of you scrambling after the hotteok man on particularly chilly evenings.

But the exams whizz by, and it’s graduation day.

“I can’t believe the both of you are leaving me all alone in this hellhole,” Jimin wails when Namjoon finishes giving his valedictorian speech and the lot of you are gathered at the back of the assembly hall.

Taehyung sniffles haughtily from behind Jimin, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, “You’re not alone. Your soulmate is literally just there.”

“Let a man have his moment, Joon,” cries Jimin as he reaches over to dramatically hug the both of you.

With a dead look in your eyes, you pry his hands off your waist, “Moment over. Now go help us take some pictures.”

Jimin acts all huffy for all of two minutes before he charms a junior photographer into taking a photo of all of you, and it looks like this: Jimin having Jungkook (who skipped class just to come, seriously) in a headlock, while Taehyung tickles the shit out of the poor boy. Yoongi’s looking like a dad with that proud gummy smile full on display, Seokjin’s looking like the model he is, Namjoon’s been captured mid-blink looking dopey, while Hoseok plants a kiss on your head right before the camera flashes.

Your parents couldn’t make it; they had urgent business out of town, and sent some flowers in their stead. But it doesn’t matter, not when you had your own family right here.

You get that photo resized so that it fits in your wallet, and even getting teased a hundred times over it was worth it.

***

Jimin’s crying again, and it’s for real this time.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” sobbing, he clings onto your right shoulder as if he hasn’t been glued to your side since yesterday.

Jungkook has possession of your other shoulder, because he’s an absolute sweetheart even though he tries to be a smartass 98% of the time, “You can’t leave, who’s gonna stay up all night gaming with me now?”

You ruffle both their heads, “I’m not disappearing forever, idiots. I’ll be back during breaks, and we can always Skype if you want to see pixels of my face.”

“Shut up and let us miss you in peace,” Jimin groans, not without kicking you lightly in the shin.

“Yeah, no, get your grubby hands off my soulmate,” snorting, Hoseok tries (not without fail) to detach the two leeches.

Jimin and Jungkook reluctantly clamber away to join the others at the terminal’s burger joint. You’ve already said your goodbyes to the rest; Namjoon’s already given you a lecture on self-care, Taehyung has thoughtfully airdropped you an entire album’s worth of cute animal photos in case you need cheering up when you’re alone. Yoongi’s gravely informed you that he has connections in the States if you need to beat people up, Seokjin’s smacked his head and gifted you with a Nintendo DS with all the Mario games you’d ever need. All in all, it was a teary, lengthy goodbye, and only Hoseok’s left.

“Did you pack that dumb-looking mushroom plushie you can’t fall asleep without?”

“Yes, and don’t disrespect Rob like this, Hoseok.”

“Did you pack enough jackets? I know how much you can’t stand the cold—”

“Hoseok,” you start gently, “You helped me pack, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I just—it hasn’t sunk in that I’ll be waking up tomorrow and you won’t be there,” his voice has simmered down to a low murmur, “I’m gonna miss you so damned much.”

You don’t say anything back, instead you place your palms on his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss; kissing Hoseok always feels like tasting fire, and not for the first time, you let it consume you, unafraid and unwavering.

“We’ll be okay, you said so yourself,” it’s no good, you’re getting a little teary yourself, and you can see the pool of tears threatening to spill, “We’ll make this work. I believe in us.”

Hoseok lets a smile surface at that, even though his honey brown hair flops sadly into his eyes and the corners of his mouth are still slightly downturned, “Yeah, me too.”

You pull him in again, and let the fire consume you whole.

Your soulmate timer throbs and throbs and throbs; but this time you know for sure, that you’d find your way back to each other soon enough.

a/n: this is unedited and mayhaps a mess but i hope u liked it regardless! hmu in my inbox anytime if u wanna leave feedback or if u just wanna be bros :>

#btswriters #networkbangtan #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #hoseok fanfic

130 notes · View notes