it's weird how jhope is Right There and he's like the Most Talented Person but some armys just. don't see him. should be studied

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! | MYG

You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all?

Yoongi x reader x Namjoon Superhero/Super Villain AU. Enemies to lovers to enemies to other enemies to lovers?! Slow burn romance. Love triangle-ish? Sequel to Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM

Hi friends, this was supposed to be lighthearted, but then it got HEAVY...so like yeah, typical story of mine lol. I almost pulled y/n's character back, but she's supposed to be kind of not good, so extra warnings

Warnings: smut, voyeur, fingering, rough sex, outdoor sex, graphic depictions of violence, crime, police brutality, fucked up villain shit, unhinged y/n, threatening school violence, character death, manipulation, angst

Word Count: 17.1k

---

“I’m going to visit my parents for the holidays, so don’t bother me.” You finish counting the final stack of money from yesterday’s “donations,” securing the loose bills together with a tie and place the stack inside your bag.

Hoseok looks up, dropping the bracelet he had been threading onto the table top. Working tediously on his new hobby kept his mind off the storm outside, his body busy so he can think about something else rather than the drop in barometric pressure and violent lightning nearing closer. “Does Tae know?”

You roll your eyes. “What is he, my keeper?” You grab another stack of bills, fanning out the money with your fingers.

The papers on the table scatter from a controlled gust of wind; a miniscule push of power by Hoseok. “You’re taking more than your share,” Hoseok warns.

You pout. “I have to buy Christmas presents! C’mon, you and I both know we’re the ones doing most of the work, just think of it as a holiday bonus!” You look at him hopeful.

Hoseok goes back to threading beads, shaking his head. “Don’t let the others hear you talk like that. We all contribute equally here, y/n.”

You pull your bag over your shoulder, belligerent, keeping the extra cash. “Yeah…” You agree, leaning over his chair, draping your arms over Hoseok’s shoulders, chin in the crook of his neck, studying his new art project. “But we’re the most powerful and you know it, Weather Man. Plus, I deserve compensation for being partnered with Jin last night.”

Hoseok scoffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “Oh really? I heard it was the other way around, that you spent most of the night thinking about ghosts to scare Jin,” he shivers.

“Jin started it,” you mutter, unable to tell Hoseok being in a confined space with the mind reader, who spent the night teasingly pressed up against you had sent your mind straight into the gutter, much to Jin’s utter amusement. So you decided to amuse yourself as well.

---

Taehyung’s latest undertaking involved flipping the vote of every legislator who opposed his new environmental preservation act, which meant overtime for the snarky mind reader who spent his time shadowing each legislator, listening and searching for a dirty little secret he could use against them, because the only thing more powerful than money is knowledge.

Bribing his competitors worked pretty well in the beginning, and the group liked the idea of using their own stolen money against them, but threatening them with a piece of information that could ruin their entire career…well, threats just worked so much better than bribes, and provided Taehyung with lasting allegiance.

Seokjin learned quickly that politicians are such egomaniacs they think mostly about themselves, which can provide him some good quality scandals, but the better ones, the life-ruining ones, those always seem to come from family. Which is how you ended up stuck inside a bedroom closet while Jin listened in on the thoughts of his latest target’s wife and children.

Apparently, Seokjin absolutely needed you there in case something went wrong. Jungkook had rudely materialized inside your apartment uninvited and hopped you to Seokjin before you could even protest. And protest you did, in your mind, torturing Seokjin in your own stubborn way.

And so that's how most of your nights now went, forced into helping Taehyung with his endeavors one way or another. At least it paid well.

---

“Are you going back home too?” You ask, using your telekinetic powers to help the bracelet’s string go through the bead when he misses.

“Probably not,�� Hoseok sighs, leaning his head back against your shoulder. “Tae has to stay in the city, and I know Jin and Jimin are staying too.”

And truth be told, Hoseok doesn’t like visiting his hometown.

Before his friends helped him learn how to control his abilities, Hoseok’s emotions ruled his powers. The aftermath caused too many pained memories around his old family home. Hoseok prefers the safe company of his friends instead.

The memories still haunt him, a younger Hoseok in the kitchen of his old family home arguing with his mother, his own uncontrolled adolescent rage transferring to the lit stove, sparking a huge blaze that burned his mother. A faulty switch, they said, an ‘accident.’ But for Hoseok it was a reminder of how truly devastating his powers could become.

‘Jimin's staying?’ There goes your ride. ‘Ahh, that’s right,’ Jimin did say something about his new assignment. Your roommate was going undercover this Christmas, a present for a very unlucky daughter of one of Taehyung’s targets, because who would ever suspect a cute little puppy?

“We're having Christmas dinner at Mayor Kim's mansion, you sure you want to miss that?”

“Hmm I'll just get JK to hop me a plate,” you joke, standing straight. “Okay, well, see you next year!”

Hoseok grabs your wrist. “Hold on!”

His tone was sharp, you thought he was going to yell at you again for taking the extra cash, but instead he pulls a colorful bracelet from his tray, stretching it over your hand.

“Merry Christmas.” He places a reassuring kiss on the top of your wrist before shaking you away. “Be careful, Yoongi says back home isn’t like what it was when we were kids, it’s dangerous past sunset now.”

You see your name written out in beads. Even if Hoseok has become a lot more moody in his adulthood, you see the old him shine through sometimes, and after all the times he’s saved your ass on heists, you can’t help but appreciate him and his powers. “I’ll be fine.” You grumble, admiring the cute bracelet.

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about everyone else!” He yells after you.

“Hey y/n.” Min Yoongi enters just as you’re leaving.

“Hi and bye, see you next year!”

He watches your retreating figure and turns to Hoseok with a look of skepticism. “What is she talking about?”

---

You knock on steel, one two three times in a special pattern. A familiar pattern to alert the occupant inside that you were alone and meant no harm.

“Y/n?” A sleepy Namjoon stands in front of you in sweats and messy hair, scars littering his toned torso that make you instantly regret seeking him out. The cuts; a consequence of fighting Jimin in his tiger form. You heard about it afterwards, but seeing the evidence now...now that you’re here, you think you’ll have to find a way to heal him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! What? I can’t even check in on you anymore?” You lean on the door frame away from him with your arms crossed. You used to see Namjoon every day, then it became weeks, now your only interactions with him were becoming the times you ran into him as ‘RM,’ where he looks at you with such contempt in his eyes.

Joon keeps his arm placed by your head, blocking you from entering.

Namjoon frowns. “What does V want?”

Ever since you’ve aligned yourself with Taehyung, it’s been like this. Joon doesn’t trust you, which is fine, you’ve lied enough to him to know you deserve his ire. But the way he acts like you are now Taehyung’s lackey, or worse, girlfriend, is infuriating.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not here because of Tae,” you say, irritated.

“Why are you here at two in the morning then?” He looks you over, eyes zoning in on your cleavage, and you don’t need to be a mind reader like Jin to know exactly where Namjoon’s mind went. He leans on his arm, pectoral muscles jumping, waiting for your answer.

“Not for that either,” you cough. “I wanted to know if you were going to go visit your family for Christmas.”

“Why? Planning to do something while I’m away?”

You ignore his accusations. “Oh so you are? Me too.”

Namjoon cocks his head to the side, “You are?”

You nod. “Yeah, err well I was planning to stay there until the new year. I felt like getting away,” you swallow down the rest of your words, looking away.

“You’re going by yourself?” He moves to the side, letting you into his apartment.

“Well, yeah? I mean, that’s also why I’m here. Did you want to go together? My parents still ask about you,” you add quietly.

“It would be nice to see them again,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping to relieve the awkward tension he was suddenly feeling.

“Okay, we should go together, yeah,” he says uneasily. If V’s most powerful super supporter was going to leave the city, it would only benefit Namjoon to keep an eye on you. Like the old saying goes, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ Namjoon didn’t know what you were to him anymore, but as long as you were with him, he felt reassured Taehyung wouldn’t try anything too villainous. And then…he’d get to spend time with you…

“When did you want to leave?” you ask, looking around his living room, missing the close connection you once had. This shouldn’t feel so cold and foreign to you, Joon shouldn’t-

“I was going to catch the first bus out this weekend.”

Catch a bus? A bus? Eh?

You were hoping to catch a ride with him by means of super powered flight. Of course Joon would choose not to use his powers, instead picking the most difficult means of transportation. You laugh to yourself.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, I know you don’t need a license, but you should at least learn how to drive, don’t you think, Joon? It might come in handy. What if ‘RM’ had to steer a careening delivery truck off the highway or something?”

“I would just stop it with my body.” Joon says, missing the point.

You frown, “What about the passengers?”

“Uhh I’d fly them to safety before impact!”

You glare at your old friend's simplistic viewpoint, crossing your arms. “Looks like you have it all figured out then.”

“It’s my job,” he pats your head, pushing you softly and smiling smugly.

You stumble backwards, trying to calm the heat in your cheeks. “Yeah, maybe it’s for the best that The God of Destruction doesn’t operate a moving vehicle.”

“Hey, you know I hate that nickname.”

“Yeah I do, that’s why I used it.”

Namjoon scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter, his scars prominently on display.

“Here, let me fix that, I can’t stand looking at it.” You move closer, placing your palm against his torso. You expect him to stop you, but he watches silently.

“I’ve felt this before,” he mutters.

“Yeah, well you get hurt often, don’t you?”

“You know, I always thought it was from my own powers. That I had super healing powers or something,” he laughs bitterly. Now that you’re not around, and his muscles ache more than ever, he knows the truth.

You concentrate, “Your body is different. It’s a lot easier to heal you than other people, so maybe you do and I’m just speeding it up a bit,” His body radiates warmth against your palm, the energy at your fingertips adds to the heat.

Namjoon closes his eyes, feeling the pain in his joints slowly disappear as well. “Ahh how do you do that?”

“I don’t know, I just concentrate, if I concentrate enough I can start to get the physics of what’s going on, down to the molecules. When I concentrate I can feel your blood pumping through your veins…that sounds pretty gross, huh?” You tease, but Namjoon peers down at you with soft eyes.

“You could do so much good in the world, y/n.”

You look at him pointedly, not wanting to hear this speech again. “Yeah, I’ll just become the next Mother Teressa while I’m at it.” Doing this is draining, does Joon really think you’re willing to sacrifice your time and energy to fix everyone else’s problems? Martyrdom does not suit you.

Namjoon bites his tongue, keeping in his protests for now, already thinking of ways to persuade you once you’re out of the city and away from Taehyung’s clutches. He wants his best friend back, even though he will never admit it.

“Okay,” you stop, satisfied now that the redness was gone, the energy in Joon’s body already increasing now that his joints didn’t feel so tired, “I better go.”

Namjoon stops you, grabbing your hand before you can fully pull away and you look up at him confused. You’ve seen that apprehension before in him, unspoken pleas swirling in the dark irises of his eyes, desires he holds back. He wouldn’t, not anymore, you already know that, but part of you…hopes.

“See you this weekend then.”

You nod, stealing a kiss before you leave. Namjoon stiffens, acting unphased. Namjoon’s willpower is becoming as impressive as his powers. He doesn’t reciprocate, returning your affection now would feel like he’s accepting all the wrongful actions you’ve chosen. No, Namjoon is too good for that.

But you, you rather be bad.

---

“Here, I got it.” Namjoon carries both your suitcases and his as if they weighed nothing, packing each case in the bus’s cargo and offers to help other riders store their luggage too. You can’t help but smile, he’s never going to change. Despite everything, he will always be the helpful caring man you’ve fallen for. So you leave him to it, stepping on the bus to find your seat.

“Hey y/n.”

“Yoongi?!”

Yoongi stands up, smiling deviously. You realize to your horror his seat is directly behind yours.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss. Min Yoongi is going to ruin everything, Namjoon will never believe a word you say now. He’s going to think you set him up and push you even farther away.

“I’m going home-”

“On our bus? Do you think I’m dumb? Did Tae put you up to this?!”

“‘Our’ bus? Finally made it official with him? You could do better.”

“Shut up, shut up!” You press Yoongi’s shoulders down, trying to hide him from view, but he’s too solid and too stubborn. You are truly panicking, completely forgetting you have the power to move him and the entire bus if you wanted to. The irony is not lost on Yoongi who can’t help but snicker at your distraught state. He smirks and his eyebrows raise, outstretching his neck in a lazy gesture for you to turn around.

“Y/n? What’s going on?” Namjoon takes in your frightened state and Yoongi’s smug demeanor, jaw clenching when he notices his old childhood classmate turned super villain, reminding him of the rift between you and him.

“I swear, Joon, I didn’t know-”

“It’s fine.” He stiffens, he could tell you weren’t lying…or perhaps you had just gotten better at it in his absence. “Hey Min.”

“So formal, Namjoon.”

You look between both men, able to feel the tension thick in the air. Oh, that’s right.

Yoongi’s feet are kicked out from under him as he falls back into his seat, glaring daggers at you for using your powers on him.

You quickly sit down, taking a calming breath in. “Um, Joon?”

Joon stands conflicted. If he was a lesser man he would punch Yoongi for the way he rudely treats you. Namjoon just thinks about it instead. He sighs, moving his glasses to rub at his eyes and hesitantly lowers himself in the seat next to you.

---

A bump in the road wakes you up. You lift your head up, see unruly brown hair, the top of Namjoon’s head pressed to your chin. You had fallen asleep with your head against the window’s glass, and Joon had fallen asleep against you. You look outside, where the scenery changed from the familiar gray block structures of metal and concrete into greenery and winding roads and you smile to yourself. Joon softly snores against you and it reminds you of your childhood, and the nostalgia of going back home hits you all at once.

You smile, happy, ignoring the pain inside you that aches in a steady rhythm.

---

“We’re here, y/n.” Joon’s calming deep voice wakes you up. “Let’s go.”

You yawn, stretching. Namjoon had woken up before you, watched you sleep softly against him, your arms protectively tight around his shoulders even in your slumber, and stayed still until he couldn’t any longer.

He insists on carrying your suitcase, he insists on walking with you.

“I’ll go with you, y/n. I’m walking that way.” Min Yoongi barges into your conversation. “I live closer to you, right?”

“She’s not going to her house, she’s going to mine.” Namjoon says defensively and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you in.

“I…am?”

“My parents made us lunch,” he says sheepishly, confidence waning.

“That’s great!” you over-emphasize your excitement, trying to lift his mood. “I can’t say no to your mom’s cooking. If only she taught you a thing or two.”

Yoongi watches you leave with the undercover superhero, annoyed at the way he keeps you protectively close.

Everyone noticed the way you held your powers back around RM, even (not so) discreetly protecting him from the other’s attacks when he showed up to stop them. It had become a liability for Taehyung, who asked Yoongi to help find a way to put an end to your unwavering feelings for the superhero, hoping to stop the annoying Vendetta RM had taken up against him the closer you became with the group.

Taehyung had started to feel his own contempt for the superhero who kept getting in the way of his plans and kept holding you back from your potential. Yoongi agreed because Yoongi noticed it too. Unlike the others who worked to hone their abilities under Taehyung’s guidance, you didn’t use your powers in the same way, you stayed comfortable in minimal effort feats of power, getting away with it because your ability was so vast. But Yoongi wanted more for you.

---

Spending the day with Namjoon and his parents made you see how right your decision to come back to your hometown had been, you could go back to pretending you were normal and Namjoon and you were best friends again. Namjoon’s family was always so warm and welcoming to you. They loved you like a second daughter, and they definitely loved the fact that you now ran your own business.

Namjoon’s father wasn’t pleased Namjoon hadn’t found a suitable career yet, knowing how bright his son was. Namjoon had the grades to go to any college he pleased, to become a lawyer or a doctor, but Namjoon chose the life of a superhero instead.

His father didn’t know why his son decided to work odd jobs instead, he didn’t know of his super powers. His father tended to be as dense as Namjoon about things. But his mother, she knew why. She even sewed his first superhero suit, and though she couldn't talk about his accomplishments with her friends, she was the proudest of her son. She joked Namjoon should work for you, which you wholeheartedly agreed with, laughing at Namjoon’s disapproving face.

Namjoon’s mom knew her son had super strength from the very beginning. It was nearly impossible to hide his strength when he first acquired his power, and as she took care of the home, she noticed something strange immediately.

You will never forget that day, you were both working on homework in his family room, or well, Namjoon was working on his homework and you were stealing his answers, and when Namjoon left you to grab drinks you heard an ominous crash, running into the kitchen to see your childhood best friend holding open the refrigerator door which had been entirely disconnected from his fridge.

“W-We can explain!” you had yelled, hitting a stunned younger Namjoon who dropped the door right in front of his mother.

“Oh great, I’ve wanted a new fridge for years. Dear, please pull the door off the stove as well, I want a matching set.” She smoothed her son’s hair down, adding...

“Dear, you sometimes float when you sleep.”

Even though you never used your powers in the beginning, you always wondered, if she knew about you too.

---

By the time you left to go to your family’s home the sun had begun setting and Namjoon and his mother insisted he take you.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t know Yoongi was going to follow us.”

“It’s alright, this is his hometown too.” Namjoon sighs, always trying to defend.

“Well, I don’t like it. I feel like they are keeping tabs on me, it’s creepy. And why are you smiling about that?” You shove him using your hands and your powers and he stumbles.

“I’m not smiling!” Namjoon laughs.

“You are! You’re smiling. You’re laughing now!”

Namjoon laughs louder, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. This is what you missed, what you yearned for, what you killed for-

A loud yell pulls your thoughts away from Namjoon. Somewhere there’s a fight, you could feel it, three different bodies. You and Namjoon hear another loud yell, screaming for-

“HELP!”

“You can’t!” You grab Namjoon before he can fly away. “Don’t you think it would be a little suspicious if ‘RM’ suddenly showed up right before Christmas in this small town?” you hiss. “Remember the rumors the first time we left?”

“Y/n,” he warns, “I can’t just-”

Another cry for help echoes in the night.

“Ugh, I’ll handle it, okay?! Stay back!”

And off you run, to fix things, to protect Namjoon.

“Uh, excuse me?” Two men stand over a third. The last man has a bloody nose, frightened eyes, dirt covered clothes. You address him first. “W-What’s happening? Why are these guys hitting you?”

“I-I’m d-delivering f-food! T-They are trying to t-take-”

“-your bike?” He shakes his head no, shivering from head to toe. One of the men runs towards you, grabs you and drags you to their victim, screaming at you to be quiet.

“Your...wallet?”

“Y/n!” Namjoon turns down the alleyway you found yourself in, his large towering figure in the distance seen by all four of you.

“Give me a second please!”

The robber tightens his hold on you, thoroughly pissed off you’ve been ignoring him. The delivery man is shaking his head, and the other robber swings back to hit him. You lift a hand up and to the delivery man’s surprise, the robber stops his assault, arm suspended in midair.

“What t-the fuck?”

“What are you doing?! Hit him!”

“I’m s-stuck!”

The robbers bicker amongst themselves while you try to calm down the scared delivery man. “What are they trying to take?” You ask again, still being dragged closer.

“My w-watch! My w-wife-”

“Ohhh!” See, that you can work with. All it takes is a little tug with your mind.

“Here.” You hold out the man’s watch.

“WHAT THE HELL?” Frozen robber yells.

The robber currently holding you reaches for the watch, but you are too quick, pulling when he pushes, and he too stands, well, leans, frozen. You walk over to the delivery man, handing him his watch.

“H-How did y-y-you...”

You wave your hands dramatically, “Magic. I’m a pretty good magician, yeah?” Then you look over to the frozen robbers. “Um, you should probably leave before the magic wears off, right? Go home to your wife. Tell her you fought off two men for that,” You look at his watch, laying a hand on his shoulder soothingly, and he nods quickly before jumping onto his delivery scooter.

“Y/n! You can’t do that! Stop, it's stealing.” Namjoon scolds, now by your side. You have both robbers’ wallets, pulling out extra cash while the men stay frozen and watch you terrified beyond imagination.

“What? This money is probably stolen anyways,” you argue.

Namjoon grabs the wallets out of your hand, exasperated. “Why do you have to be like this? Why?!” he yells, upset. You never acted this way until you started working with V and it angered him. When in reality, you had used your powers all the time to get the things you wanted and only held back when you were in your old friend's presence.

“At least with my way we don’t have to call an ambulance,” you mutter, annoyed.

“I don’t-I don’t mean t-to” he stutters, hurt by your words.

“I know, I know.” You are instantly filled with regret, but your temper doesn’t permit you to apologize. “Why are you getting so mad?! These are bad men aren’t they?” You glare at the frozen pair, their arms and legs still stuck in odd angles in front of you.

“Because we have to be better than them, y/n! They steal from someone so you steal from them and then when does it end?!”

You want to argue, but the way he looks at you fills you with guilt. You sigh, “...fine, we’ll do it your way.” You retake the wallets with Namjoon’s permission, walking towards the frozen men, you pull an ID between your fingers.

“You heard the man, consider yourself lucky.” You put the wallet back in the robber’s pocket and flip the identification card over, tucking it in the man’s front pocket. “I know your names and faces now, and where you live, so don’t think about breaking any more laws, because next time, we do it my way.” You grab the man’s cheeks, pinching his face between your fingers, “And my way involves you losing the ability to move permanently,” you warn, patting his cheek.

After you return the other man’s wallet and ID, you let them go, turning to a very stern looking Namjoon as they scurry away out of sight. “I didn’t mean it, I just said it to scare them.” You cross your arms, “Don’t tell me you’re mad about that too.”

Namjoon sighs, the entire ordeal went better than he expected at least. He pulls you back towards the road. “No. I’m glad…you helped… Why did you let him grab you like that? Are you okay?”

“Well, going in fists first is your thing,” you say, hooking your arm in his. “And I’m fine. Why, you were worried about me? C’mon, I fought you, you really think those assholes could hurt me? What, were you jealous?”

Namjoon scoffs. “Shut up,” wishing he could quiet you with his lips instead.

---

Something feels off. You know your childhood room was tiny, but there was a strangeness about it that unsettled you. You are officially home now after having Namjoon over for dinner. Your parents had been ecstatic to see you both again, grilled you and Namjoon on your relationship status much to your annoyance, and Namjoon left with the promise to come visit again tomorrow.

You loved your parents, but you accept your relationship is better when you’re only around them in small doses, so after dinner you went straight to your old room to unpack. You needed some alone time, but right now you didn’t feel alone.

You look around, eyeing each of your old electronics still sitting exactly where you left them. An old cordless phone that is still connected to the wall. Your TV and CD player haven’t moved. You notice your old computer, the web camera is still attached. Your eyes narrow when the odd feeling increases tenfold. Yoongi wouldn’t dare.

You glare at the piece of old technology, facing your body directly at the computer screen, and decide to test your theory by putting on a show.

Slowly, very slowly, you unbutton your blouse, until your front is left uncovered.

Hmm. Yanking off the clothing, you stand in your bra, turning your head to the side, trailing your hands over your body teasingly. At this point, you’re hoping Yoongi is watching, otherwise, acting like this for absolutely no one feels dumb. You pull off your bra, standing topless in the middle of your old bedroom. Okay, maybe you are dumb.

Giving up, you pull on a nightshirt and start unbuttoning your pants when your computer screen light turns on, white text letters beginning to fill the blank screen.

‘NICE TITS.’

How do you murder someone six houses away?

You move closer to the web camera, talking directly into the speaker. “Yoongi, what the fuck are you doing?”

‘LET’S TALK.’

Then the screen goes black and a notification pops up on your cell with a location in the center of town.

---

An old electronics store. ‘How convenient for him,’ you think.

The lights were turned on but no one stayed inside and the doors were locked. You sigh and easily unlock the door with your powers. Your break-in triggered an alarm, but it was silenced almost immediately, and you knew somewhere lurked the tech talker.

“Stalking me? Got a crush on me now?” you yell inside the empty store.

“I just think it’s a shame you’re holding your powers back for a man, not very 21st Century woman of you.” Yoongi appears behind a tall shelf. “You think those punks are going to become newly reformed citizens just because you threatened them?”

“I knew it, I knew it, you’re spying on me!”

Yoongi moves closer, rolling his eyes. “I’m making sure you are not playing both sides.”

“I’m not on a side,” you huff, “I thought I made that clear.”

“And yet, somehow Taehyung is always the one you’re standing next to when things go south,” he smirks. “But yeah, you’re totally not picking a side.”

“If you think I’m so powerful, why are you trying to piss me off, hmm?” The dirt starts to vibrate around your feet.

“Maybe I like a little pain.”

You smile. Yoongi’s right, you’ve been holding back, but you have no problem letting go now. The shelves by your sides begin to shake-

The speakers around you screech, the sharp high pitched noise is the worst sound you’ve ever heard. And it doesn’t end, loud and persistent, ringing in your eardrums. You scream, falling to the ground. While Yoongi, prepared with earplugs, walks closer to you, boots on either side of your head.

“Come on!” he yells, “JK never shuts up about how powerful you are, is this all you got?”

“I could-” You hold your pounding head, trying to hold your thoughts together, unable to concentrate, only able to destroy a quarter of the speakers in the store. “-rip your body from the inside out if I wanted to.”

If Yoongi was startled by that statement, he didn’t show it. However, the sound thankfully stops and he pulls out his earplugs. “I don’t think you want to do that, but I’d like to see you try.”

You turn onto your back, breathing heavily. Looking up at him, flicking your arm so every remaining electronic falls to the ground and breaks. “Your power seems to have limitations. It kind of…sucks.”

“Think so?” He bends down and places his hands on the ground by your head. “I might have agreed with you if we were born in another century. But now? I can feel it all around us, even in the ground, can’t you?”

You concentrate, feeling the hard twisting wires running beneath your body, in the floor, up the walls. Electricity covers the building, the sidewalks, running into the ground. Telephone, internet, power. So much power.

“You think my ability sucks? Sorry to break it to you baby, but out of everyone, my power might be the most similar to yours.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms behind your head, too tempted to crash an appliance into his smug face. This man did not just call you baby.

“We both use energy, mine is just a specific kind.” His fingertips hover over your shoulder and you flinch from the static electricity. The tiny hairs on your skin stand up, charged by Yoongi’s presence.

His hand hoovers over your body, down your neck, and then-

You yelp, arms covering your chest, glaring while Yoongi laughs softly.

His laughter stops when the air becomes tight around your bodies. His feet leave the ground as he hoovers, trying to balance himself with nothing to hold onto.

You lift yourself up, dragging your feet first, until you’re upside down, slowly flipping your bodies around until Yoongi is the one who’s on his back as you both float in the air.

Yoongi might have been right, but you weren’t going to let him know that, or let him believe you were anywhere in the same league. You plant your feet to the ground with a satisfied smirk as Yoongi struggles in midair. He throws his head back, glaring at you.

You cross your arms triumphantly and lean closer to his temple, whispering so close your lips graze his soft skin. “Tell me, any cool tricks to get out of this?”

The lights flicker and go out, the soft glow of the advertisements outside barely reach your bodies, but it almost looks like Yoongi’s eyes glow with them.

You can feel the static pull on the ends of your hair, but you’re too stubborn to let him go now. Shit.

Invisible power danced around you, zipping through the air until you felt that power hit through you and out.

You knew the current of electricity that hit your bodies was Yoongi’s doing, but the explosions afterwards, the collapsing building, was that you?

---

“Idiot, wake up.” Yoongi’s sleeping form zaps you again.

‘Pain in the fucking ass.’ You have spent all night trying to wake him up after healing both your bodies and fixing the whole goddamn shopping plaza. The destruction was worse than anything you've ever seen Namjoon cause, and it frightened you...

You hated how frightened you were, it reminded you of the first time you tried out your powers. In the beginning you were always afraid, never purposely used your abilities, unlike Namjoon who dived head first into his powers, it took you years to tediously build up your telekinesis.

You’re exhausted, you’re scared Namjoon is going to find out it was you, and you’re worried Yoongi’s family will wake up and find you hovering over their son in his sleep like a crazy stalker.

Eventually, too tired to keep trying, you pass out next to the slumbering tech talker.

You only closed your eyes for a second, at least you thought you did. Jolting awake, you notice your position is now switched with the tech talker, your tired body under his covers while he sits hunched over next to you, head resting on his crossed arms.

He lifts his forehead up, holding out your cell for you, “Namjoon won’t stop calling, I texted back saying you were busy, but I don’t think he believed it.”

You snatch the phone out of his hands, glaring. Namjoon is the person you should be with right now, not waking up in Yoongi's room. You turn around burying your head in his pillow, thinking of an excuse for Namjoon, upset you had to start your vacation lying to him again. What happened last night felt like a nightmare.

You never had anything against the aloof tech talker until now. There was a point last night where you thought you had put Yoongi in a coma and he’d never wake up, but he looks down at you now so indifferently it makes you want to rip his hair out for crying over him.

So you do, yanking at his hair, twisting the strands tightly in your grip, you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes again. “We could have both died, you idiot!”

He winces, reaching for your hair too. He’s much stronger than you, yanking your body back down. “Y/n, why aren’t you using your powers to get out of this?”

You can feel angry tears escape you, frustrated and still so tired, not understanding the point he’s trying to make. “Because I don’t want to use them?! You and everyone else act like what happened is a gift, or a calling; an improvement to your shitty fucking lives. I never wanted any of this! It’s a fucking curse!” The entire property shakes in your rage. It’s too much, you feel everything. You can hear the worried cries from his parents waking up in the other room. “Let me go,” lowering your voice, you cry softly. Yoongi looks down at you, sharp eyes still searching for something, cradling your head.

“Calm down, don’t let your powers control you,” his words are stern but soft and he waits for you to stop crying. “Thinking it’s a curse or a gift, it’s not going to change anything, it’s part of you. You always hold back, we all notice it, you need to learn how to master your abilities.”

“Why?! So I can do all the things you and Taehyung tell me to do?” you cry, dizzy, unable to control the shaking in your voice and the shaking of the house.

His finger wipes the wetness off your cheek. “No, not for us, for you. You don't listen to us anyways,” he smiles. The affection from him, after everything...just upsets you more. You didn't want to accept it felt comforting, instead you shove him away.

“Why do you care so much?!”

“Why do you care so little for anyone who’s not Namjoon?!” he asks, irritated, “when all you do is fight?!”

You really want to shut Yoongi up, you really want to open up a hole in the ground and fall inside. You did revolve your life around Namjoon since you were children, after all, and honestly, in this moment, all you really want is Namjoon to come save you from Yoongi’s horrible truths. “You’re right, just p-please stop.”

“Promise me you’ll think about what I just said. Taehyung helped all of us master our powers, we can help you.” He wipes away your falling tears until you calm down, until you finally nod at him.

---

“What do you want now?” you stand in front of Yoongi in your pajamas and a jacket, freezing. You received Yoongi’s message to meet him at the park via your computer.

“Come sit,” he motions to the empty swing next to him, moving back and forth on his own swing.

“You know these late night hook ups are not doing it for me.”

“Still playing hero with Namjoon I see” he asks. He didn't like the fact that you spent the entire day with Namjoon, he had thought he had finally gotten through to you last night.

Did you and Namjoon go to the annual Christmas festival this morning, yes. It was for a good cause, you told yourself. The funds raised would help the town and the community. Did you also happen to use your powers to save a performer from hurting himself when he accidently fell off a horse dressed like a reindeer, yes. It made Namjoon smile at you, your favorite dimpled grin, for the first time in months, and you were discreet so no one could tell, you told yourself. Yoongi could tell.

“And so what if I am? It’s none of your business anyways,” you say irritated, sitting on the empty swing in a huff.

“Because you’re not a hero.” You know you’re not. But for some reason when Yoongi says it, it greatly offends you.

“Fuck you. Maybe I took your advice and decided to embrace my powers for the greater good.” ‘Ew.’ “You know, ‘New year, new me,’”

“Planning to become Namjoon’s little sidekick?”

You scoff, “He would be my sidekick if anything, you ass.”

“So...are you going to betray us then?” he asks, suddenly serious.

You roll your eyes, how many times do you have to defend yourself to Yoongi? “I never said that. You guys are so goddamn annoying sometimes.”

When you agreed on using your clean up business as a cover for Taehyung’s illegal operations, you didn’t think you would become as close as you are now to the group. On paper, your old classmates worked for you, and their superpowers made cleanups so much easier, but more often you were pulled into their hijinks, asked to help steal, spy...punish. You did it because the people you were punishing were the type of people who never faced the consequences of their actions. You did it because Taehyung’s goals were a beautiful fantasy you hoped he would someday accomplish, even if his means were violent. It’s not like the rest of the world wasn’t just as violent. It’s not like you weren’t violent, your own powers unfortunately thrived in chaos.

Yoongi scoffs, “Do you think I want to spend all my free time watching you in case you flip? I have better things to do.”

You glare at him. “Then fucking leave. I’m not going to stop Joon, I thought that was clear when we decided all this.”

“Yeah, well, we all thought you’d get over your childhood crush eventually.”

“He is not my crush, he’s my best friend.” You grit out, trying to calm yourself as little specks of sand levitate at your feet.

“Is that what Namjoon would call you now, his best friend?” The sand falls back into place as you swing quietly, defeated. He's right, you were best friends. What were you now? Have you just been living in the past? You can’t even say for sure if Namjoon even likes the person you’ve become now, much less consider you a friend.

Yoongi sees your fallen attitude, and he feels bad for pushing you, even if it needed to be done. He needed to make sure Namjoon didn’t turn you against them. He stands up and swings you instead, softly holding your shoulders with every push. “Listen, I’m not trying to make you feel like shit, but after listening to you guys all day…” he groans, “Namjoon doesn’t understand you.”

You and Namjoon didn’t always see eye-to-eye on things, but his convictions make him the person you’ve always admired, and maybe you needed something like Joon, someone who makes you a better person.

“Are you willing to change everything about yourself to make him happy?” You stay silent, letting him swing you back and forth. The swing creaks, and you don’t utter a word. “Like I said before, you can do better.”

“Oh yeah, who? Taehyung?”

He stops the swing abruptly, hands around your waist, pulling you back.

“No...” His warm breath tickles your cold cheek. You can see the clouds of your own heavy breathing forming.

“...let me go.”

He obeys, untangling his arms from around your waist and letting you swing forward with the momentum.

“I’m not only here to visit my parents. So if you’re going to keep up this good girl charade, don’t interfere with what I have to do.”

“Let me in on the details.” you ask, curious.

Yoongi shakes his head, pushing you higher “Ah ah ah. How do I know you aren’t going to tattle on me? How am I supposed to trust you now?”

You sigh, turning your head to your left. “Feel that?” you whisper.

“Saw them coming on the CCTV.”

“Oh look, outsiders! Don’t you know it’s not safe to be out after dark?” You and Yoongi turn to see a group of young men, clearly looking for trouble. How dare they call you and Yoongi outsiders. Kids these days.

“Oh, perfect timing! Since I can’t hit him,” you keep swinging, gesturing to your companion. Yoongi laughs darkly. The group look at you with a mixture of confusion and greatly misplaced overconfidence.

“Gonna help or just watch?”

“Go right ahead,” he yawns, stretching, “I’m not going to hold you back.”

---

“I like your style, y/n.”

“Thanks.” you stretch your neck, walking home with Yoongi. You hand him the stack of new phones you acquired (since you promised Namjoon no wallets). “Find anything useful?” You watch as the screens go haywire under Yoongi’s touch.

“Nah, just a bunch of punks.” He stretches again, massaging his shoulder. You notice when he winces.

“That’s still bothering you? You know, I can fix that for you,” you hum, hands in your pockets. “I’ve done it for Joon.”

“Alright,” he says, placing the phones on top of an empty bench, all except one. “I’ll take you home first.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever snuck a guy in my room before,” you laugh, holding the window open for Yoongi.

“Not even Namjoon?”

“We would usually meet in the forest when we wanted to sneak out. You know the one close to the school?”

“Yeah, I used to meet my friends there all the time.” he says, lying on your bed, making himself at home.

You sit on the floor next to him, remembering the night you and Namjoon saw the shooting star. “At night? Take off your hoodie.”

‘Yeah,” he says as he removes the offending material. You reach under his shirt, The moment your skin touches him you feel a shock of static electricity, yelping from the jolt.

“Is that a normal thing?” You ask, annoyed. He grunts in confirmation. You move your arm higher, following the length of his body until you settle on his collar bone.

You concentrate on Yoongi’s shoulder, where the muscles are more tense and tight. “Do you remember the night you got your powers?” Yoongi grunts again. If you weren’t trying to heal him right now, you’d smack him. “Were you in the woods then?”

“Yeah, just figured it out?” Yoongi adjusts his body, slumping into your covers. “Thought you were smarter than that.”

Your eye twitches. This man really likes to annoy you. Inside your own bedroom, while you are helping him, no less. “Did you find it?”

“Find what?”

“What caused the green light, Joon and I looked all night...”

“No, I was with Jin at the time. The moment we saw it, Jin started freaking out. He said he was hearing voices, he almost passed out from all the noise in his head. I would have thought he went crazy, but then I started hearing noises myself.”

“You did? How the hell do your powers work exactly?”

“So you can tell your superhero boyfriend how to take me down? Are you going to tell me how you do this?” He gestures to your position.

You lean on your free hand, watching Yoongi comfortably rest while you do all the work. Even if he annoys you so much, you can’t imagine a scenario where you would betray him like that.

“I don’t even know how to explain it, to be honest. It’s like when you look at a forest. You don’t think of anything particular, you see the whole forest for what it is, but if you start concentrating, it becomes all these tiny little pieces that fit together to make up what you see; animals, insects, rivers, trees. I manipulate one tree and then another, eventually I’ve changed the forest. I feel you the same way.”

“I can feel your energy too.”

“Really?”

“I studied about it when I first realized my powers. Human bodies create electricity. It’s small, but it’s there.” But you, radiate the most he's ever felt.

You always thought Yoongi’s powers were pretty limited, but you’re learning every day there’s more to him. “So could you take energy, could you drain a body?!”

“Damn y/n, that's dark. No, I don’t control things like that, the closest I can explain it is-I’m borrowing energy. It’s a flow, a line of communication I can tap into, with more sophisticated devices it can become a whole conversation, or as simple as, ‘off’-” The lights turn off, plunging you into darkness. “-or ‘on’-” the computer monitor turns on, screen light filling the space.

“Hmm, still don’t really get it.” You press the computer button off with your mind. You understand the physical. You can feel currents of electricity but you can’t pick them up, move them like you would a tree or a desk. Even Hoseok’s lightning can knock you off your feet if you’re not paying attention. “You tell my lamp to turn on and off, are you saying my lamp could decide not to listen to you?”

Yoongi laughs. “You could think of it like that, it happened a lot in the beginning. I couldn’t control my powers. You could say I learned to be persuasive.”

“Same with Joon.” You’re tired. “Scoot over.”

You fit your body next to his on your tiny childhood bed. “What about the others? They were in the forest too, then? Do you know what happened to them?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, “Taehyung was with Jimin and Jungkook. They said they immediately felt the effects too, it was pretty crazy for them. Hoseok was all alone, he was biking along the forest when he saw it.”

“Oh shit.”

“He said he didn’t even know he had powers until he got upset one day. It took him awhile to even believe he was doing it.”

“Poor Hobi.” You look down at his bracelet still around your wrist.

“Yeah, he was in bad shape, luckily he crossed paths with Taehyung and the others, they helped him get control of his powers. I wish Jin and I had met Taehyung before moving to the city.”

You ask something that has been bothering you ever since you found out Namjoon and you weren’t alone in your abilities. “Why didn’t you ever reach out to Joon? That video was all people could talk about.”

“We figured it was someone from our class, but we didn’t know it was Namjoon! Jin had no control over his powers until we met up with Tae. He encouraged us to train our powers like a muscle. And no offense, but we all thought ‘RM’ was pretty dumb going public..”

“He was doing what he thought was right,” you frown, defending him. “You should have reached out, things could have been different.”

Yoongi scoffs, “And what about you? You were his best friend and you didn’t even tell him you had powers.” You guess he has a point there. “How did you hide it from him?”

You smile, Namjoon was smart when it came to books, other things...not so much. “The morning after, I felt different, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then after everything that happened with Joon, it scared me. I think my body just repressed everything out of fear, until...”

“Until?”

“Joon was being an idiot, really. He realized he could fly too, but he couldn’t properly land. He’d make massive holes wherever he went and run into trees and things. He was going to crash land into a car, I didn’t even realize it was me who moved it, I just wanted him not to get hurt.” you murmur, remembering how stressful those days were. “Once I finally came to terms that I had powers, Joon was already going out in a cape saving people like a real superhero. I couldn’t tell him then.” You had been too afraid he would have persuaded you to join him.

Yoongi flexes his fingers, sparks of electricity jump between his finger pads. You cuddle against his shoulder, sleepy. “It’s like you recharged me,” he says quietly. You hum.

“Now tell me your plans here, other than keeping an eye on me.” Yoongi stays silent. “Come on! I thought we were having a moment!”

Silence. “Or I could just break your arm and heal it again until you tell me,” you mumble into his shoulder impatiently.

Yoongi laughs at that, “Go ahead, I wanna see you do it.”

“Well now you just took the fun out of it,” you grumble. “Yoongi?” He grunts. “Do you ever think about what would have happened if you stayed friends with Joon? Became a superhero instead?’

Yoongi knows it’s not really him you’re asking for. “All that attention sounds like a nightmare. Also me in spandex?”

“Your hand runs down his torso, feeling his muscles as you pull your hand out from under his shirt. “I think you’d look pretty good.”

Everything is calm now, and you look at him without any resentment in your eyes, even though he was currently trying very hard to ruin your relationship with your oldest friend. Yoongi would second guess himself, if it weren’t for the fact that he could feel just how much energy was radiating off your body in that moment. “Would you give me a chance then, if I was a superhero?”

You snort. “What do you mean ‘chance’? I already got you in my bed,” you tease.

In your dark bedroom, you can only see Yoongi’s silhouette as he shifts his body to look at you. “I have a feeling I would piss a lot of people off if I decide to do what I’m thinking right now.” He teases you by running his fingertips along your arm. In the darkness, blue sparks emerge between your bodies.

“Whoa.”

“It’s coming from you, y/n.”

“Pretty cool-” You wiggle your fingers against his palm, watching sparks appear and dissipate. He grips your hand in his, so energized now, his powers were reaching to the satellites above the sky.

“I see now why they fight over you.”

“What are you saying, it’s not about my lovely personality? I’m offended.”

“If I was Joon, I would fight every day to be by your side.”

“You would lose.” you say dismissively.

He smiles, “I would still fight. You’d be worth it..”

You look up at him, “You just want me for my powers.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “To have someone who wants to heal me just because she notices I’m in a bit of pain, someone as loyal and as beautiful as you, of course I’d want that.” There's more truth in his words than he wants to admit.

“That is definitely not going to work on me,” you lie, already feeling overwhelmed by his words.

Yoongi smirks, moving closer to you. “Okay then, maybe I just want to see these again.” His hand squeezes your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple through your night shirt.

Biting your lip, you arch your back into his touch. “Now that I believe.” You softly moan as he moves his body over yours, hands digging into your waist, pushing the end of your nightshirt up until your breasts are exposed.

His tongue runs along the curves of your breasts, sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. The feeling is electric. Actually electric, small shocks of pleasure jolt through your body. He massages your breasts in his large hands, burying his face into your cleavage. You keep your moans quiet, but the bed creaks dangerously loud, a reminder you’re not alone in your apartment, you’re at your parents house, where the walls are paper thin.

“Y-You should go,” you hold his head in your palms, squishing his cheeks, and despite Yoongi’s sharp eyes, you think he looks cute.

His hand finds its way inside your pajama pants, dipping a single finger inside you, pressing into you until he hits his knuckles. “You sure?” Yoongi’s movements are skillful, and his touch, like his personality, gets straight to the point and doesn’t waiver; if he wants you to come for him, you will.

You groan in pleasure and bite down on the newly repaired muscle of his shoulder, testing him to see if he would pull away. But he looks into your challenging eyes with a challenge of his own, until you’re overwhelmed by pleasure, forgetting your indignation, eyes rolling back in pleasure instead, mouth releasing his shoulder, opening wider in a soft moan as your body shakes in rhythm to his fingers.

Namjoon was always careful, even if he didn't know his strength. Yoongi on the other hand, did not treat you gently, he took what he wanted, let pleasure rule above all. He may not be as strong as Joon, but he acted just as imposing and intimidating, an impressive quality that you’ve always liked about him. And now...

As he was brutally pounded your body into the carpet of your old childhood room, his dominance made you tingle. Or maybe it was his powers. Your skin felt hot under the rub of being pulled back and forth against his hard length. His tongue in your mouth stole your breath away, it felt so good, his soft lips and demanding touch.

“Y-Yes, fuck me harder.”

That was something Yoongi definitely had no objections to.

---

“Where are we going?” You follow Namjoon deep into the forest.

He carries four large bags, you follow behind him, telepathically moving tree branches out of the way that threaten to tear the plastic, your old friend not even noticing the way he bumps into the scenery.

“You don’t recognize this place?” he teases.

You did, yet still an uneasiness settled inside you even though you’ve taken this path a hundred times before. It was the path you and Namjoon used to take when you were kids.

“I remember.”

“Come on then!” He jumps on top of a familiar rock, one you used to lay on and watch the stars together on school nights. The sun beamed down on your old friend high above you, and he felt so far away. Yoongi's words were getting to you. Tired from the climb, you float your body next to his, peering into one of the bags.

“What’s this?!” You smile and drop down, seeing a garland of popcorn in one of the bags.

“We’re decorating a tree!” Namjoon smiles cutely. “When we arrived you seemed upset your parents had already set up theirs. You used to always help me with mine.”

You smile, wondering if he really missed you as much as you missed him. “Hmm yeah that was fun.” Tilting your head back you survey the massive trees. “This might be the biggest tree we’ve decorated yet.”

Namjoon hoovers above the ground, the sight makes you realize he really doesn’t use his flight unless he’s doning his RM superhero outfit. “Doesn’t look that big from here!” he yells.

This reminds you of the days you spent together before he took his powers so seriously. Your spirits are lifted up by how carefree he’s acting.

And so, you, lift, too.

---

You spent all day decorating the tallest forest tree with edible ornaments for the wildlife and zooming around the forest with Namjoon, lost in your own world. Namjoon helped of course, but mostly watched you, mesmerized by your powers.

When you were alone together you didn't worry about anything else, he didn't feel the weight of his responsibilities out in the forest, he didn't have to do anything, he just had to make you laugh.

Like now, your laughter filling the quiet forest. Namjoon picks you up, hands around your waist, so you lift his body up using your powers, and he flies you both higher, over the forest.

“It's cold!” You laugh, leaning into him, burying your face into his chest until he brings you both down again.

You chanced a kiss, warm in Namjoon's embrace. And deepen it when he kisses you back.

Namjoon kissed you pressed up against a tree, holding your body firm. He missed your soft lips and your hot mouth, he missed the curves of your body, the softness of your breasts and stomach, the heat of your sex, but most of all, he missed the throaty melody of his name moaned out by your voice.

He missed it so much that when he comes he doesn't stop, his hips thrusting into you until his name leaves your lips again. When Namjoon comes for a second time, he can feel the hot wet pulsing of your walls around him as you let go, your bodies wound tightly around one another too much like lovers, your eyes staring into his with so much love and desire he has to recatch his breath.

---

At the end of the day you both lied under the decorated tree, admiring your handiwork and watching birds flock to the edible decorations.

“This was fun,” you sigh, lying against his warm chest.

“Just keeping you out of trouble,” Namjoon jokes, but you don’t see the humor in it.

You sit up. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon can already tell you took his joke the wrong way. “Calm down, I was only kidding.”

“Do you think you have to keep me in check? You think I’m a danger to society or something? Is that why you brought me out here into the middle of the forest?” It was hard not to let your insecurities surface, with the fear that once you leave your hometown Namjoon will become cold and distant to you just like before.

“What?! N-No! We always used to come here!”

“You know, before you found out about my powers, I was constantly cleaning up your messes. I still do!”

If you wanted to go there, Namjoon would go there. “So it wasn’t you who trapped a dozen men inside the jungle gym last night. The fire department had to cut them out, it was all over the morning news, y/n. They could have frozen to death outside.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you mutter.

“What were you doing last night? Looking for trouble with Yoongi?! You could have called me for help, or you should have called the police-”

You snort. “Yeah, looks like the police have everything handled around here. It was never like this when we were kids. The police budget's tripled here and crime is the worst it's ever been, maybe RM should look into that before telling me I can’t-”

“Alright alright,” Namjoon pulls off his glasses, rubbing his temples. Another argument with you was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “I get it, I get it. You think you’re above the law.”

“THE POLICE THINK THEY ARE ABOVE THE LAW.”

Namjoon groans, “Your sound like V!” Namjoon yells back at you, slamming down his fist. “DO YOU THINK THAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO KILL PEOPLE?” It always ends up back to this argument, and you never are going to apologize for that. The impact from his fist crumbles the rock under his fist, creating a large crack down the middle and shaking the ground.

He looks at the broken rock, years of his childhood now blemished. “Shit. Fix it, y/n, please.”

“...no.”

---

“Wow, so you actually come out in daylight.”

You lean against your parent’s door in your pajamas. You were planning on staying in bed until the new year passed, and then your mom dragged you out of your room, talking excitedly about a handsome stranger asking for you.

“Get dressed, I want to take you somewhere,” Yoongi says.

“Why?” you ask skeptically.

“You’re a ‘good girl’ now, right?” Yoongi mocks, “We’re gonna go do some good around here. Hurry up!”

You glare at him, utter annoyance replacing your pathetic despondency. You turn around swiftly, headed to your room. “Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty!”

You walk silently next to Yoongi, curious as hell as to where he’s taking you.

“That festival you went to, did you know the town Governor holds that every year?”

“Yeah.”

“All those ticket sales, he’s supposed to use those donations to help our community, right?”

“Yeah…”

He leads you by the hand to a group of volunteer tents, introducing you to one of his friends. “Hey, has The Governor given any financial aid to you guys since winning re-election?” His friend just laughs at him instead of answering. Yoongi hands you a bucket full of tools.

“We’re here to actually help our community. You, beautiful, are going to help ‘fix-up’ these houses while I ‘fix’ their electricity.” He leads you into a run down neighborhood. The houses on the street look all but abandoned. “Most of these houses belong to senior citizens, really old, so they won’t notice when you use your powers. However-” he whispers. “Take this opportunity to work on your subtly,” he places your hands down to your sides. “Our powers come from our mind. I don’t have to say, ‘on’ and ‘off’ anymore, you shouldn’t have to move your arms for small things like this.”

---

You sigh, “You know, Joon would have loved to help with something like this. You should have let him come too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi nods. “I know. I did.”

“What?” The wistful smile on your face falls.

“Your friend tends to be rigid in his ideals, can we agree on that?”

“What are you saying?” you ask confused.

Yoongi pulls the end of his shirt up to wipe the dirt off his face. “A lot of these people are squatters. They refinanced their homes to pay off debt and couldn’t keep up with the interest.”

Yoongi sighs, “I gave them stolen electricity, y/n, something the power company can’t turn off. I let him know what I was going to do. He didn’t want to be a part of it, but he promised not to stop me. I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you, mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” you say, stunned. “Did you really explain it to him? About why they can't pay?”

“Should I have to? I think it should be a basic human right, don’t you?” he shrugs, “You can try though, if you want. He’d probably see it differently coming from you,” he runs his finger across your cheek, wiping away dirt. “He doesn’t like me now that we’re close.”

“Joon isn’t like that.”

Yoongi could have told you Namjoon threatened him to stay away from you. But the way both of you have been acting recently, clearly upset with each other, he didn’t feel like upsetting you even more, screw Taehyung’s mission.

An old woman comes over to you and Yoongi, handing you a loaf of fruit bread she made as a thank you gift for fixing her home, the new insulation and heat will keep her warm this winter. You give Yoongi half. In many ways Namjoon and Yoongi still act the same as when you were kids, even when the most life changing phenomenon happened to all of you, Yoongi still finds ways to help those who can’t help themselves. Namjoon does everything in his power to do what he thinks is just. But you’re starting to realize you’ve changed a lot.

---

Knock Knock Knock. It’s become a habit to knock in the pattern Namjoon knows.

“H-Hey.”

You haven’t seen him in awhile, not since you blew up on each other. “Hey. Your mom wanted me to come over and help her make dumplings?”

“Oh. OH! Oh thank god, come inside, she keeps making me redo mine,” Namjoon whines, pulling you inside and dragging you to the table you used to do your homework on.

“Y/n! You came! Hopefully my son will cheer up now.” She gives Namjoon a stern look that makes you laugh.

Throughout your stay you tried to bring up Yoongi, but Namjoon dismissed all your attempts. You wondered if he really disliked Yoongi that much, and why.

When you walk home that evening, head full of questions; when you walked passed a fight, you almost didn't stop. But you did, regretfully.

You noticed the struggle outside a convenience store, a man and police guard fighting. The man looks very familiar-

“Hey! I thought I told you not to do that anymore!”

“Oh fuck no, no no no-”

“Stop struggling!” The guard yells, trying to secure handcuffs around the robber. You cross your arms over your chest, willing the robber's body to stop moving.

The police guard shoves the man into the concrete, screaming again, “Stop resisting!” But he's not resisting, because you are purposefully keeping him still.

The robber screams in pain. You see the items he stole scattered around the concrete. Food and...baby formula.

Fuck. What would the old you do? Mind your own damn business. What would Joon do? Let the police handle it? No, you can't believe he would do that. What would the you in this very pivotal moment do?

You search for the closest street camera, looking pleadingly for help. Pulling out your cell out, you start recording the officer. “Yoongi,” you mutter under your breath, “Help me out here,” hoping for once the tech talker was still stalking you via your electronics.

“Are you recording me?”

“Yep. It's almost Christmas, can't you just let him off with a warning?”

“Ma'am if you don't step back right now, I'll arrest you too!”

There is a loud sound, like someone pressed onto a car horn and kept their hand down, folllowed by the familiar sound of police sirens, the guard's car activated and blaring it's lights. Then the street lights and store loses power, bathing everyone in hues of blue and red. You mentally thank Yoongi.

“It's h-her! S-She's doing it!”

“First of all, no, second of all, I'm trying to help you out here, asshole.”

The police guard reaches for his gun and that's when you really do use your powers.

Now that the guard was knocked out, you release your hold on the robber. “Here,” you hold out your arm, baby formula in your hand. The robber swipes it, holding the can close to his chest. Struggling with what to do next.

“Crazy witch, stay away from me!”

And Namjoon finds this rewarding?

---

You were not spying on Min Yoongi.

You had just grown accustomed to his late night requests. And when he didn’t ask you to meet him today, you just wanted to make sure he was okay. So you might have searched for him using your telekinesis, but it wasn’t spying!

You went to the tallest point you could find and tried to “see” him in your mind, concentrating until you found a figure that took up a Yoongi-sized space, who moved in a distinctive walk like Yoongi, who radiated an insane amount of energy...

So that’s how you found yourself out for a midnight stroll, on the opposite end of town, close to the neighboring powerplant.

“There’s cameras everywhere, you think I didn’t notice you?” The tech talker turns around, staring in your direction. You step out from the shadows, not spying.

“What a coincidence that we just ran into each other like this.”

“Lucky me.”

“Well, what the hell are you doing across town, the night before Christmas lurking around like the Grinch?”

“Oh, just here to cause some trouble. Going to stop me, Miss Magician?”

“What do you mean ‘cause trouble’?” A powerplant and Yoongi in the same equation, sounds like an answer you’re going to regret solving.

“I’m destroying that.” He gestures to the plant. Yep, instant regret. “Now that you’re here, can you do it for me?”

“Yoongi, what the hell?!”

“Fine, make it difficult for me.”

“Why is it always the hot guys?” you sigh. “You’re absolutely insane, you know that right?”

“So you think I’m hot?” Yoongi smirks.

Your eyes narrow on him, “Don’t act like it’s a revelation. If you wanna destroy this powerplant, be my guest, but you think Joon won’t notice if suddenly half the town loses power on Christmas Eve?”

But Yoongi is not paying attention to you, he’s already walking towards the quiet building.

“You’re going to be ruining a lot of Christmases if you do this!” you warn.

Yoongi scoffs, hands in his pockets.

“Wait wait wait!” you tug on his arm, stopping him momentarily.

“Looks like your boyfriend is rubbing off on you after all.”

You clench your jaw, trying to calm yourself, “He’s not my boyfriend.” The lights flicker around you, and you’re not sure which one of you is to blame.

“Can you just explain to me why you need to destroy this powerplant?”

“Sure. This plant has been overcharging customers for years. Would rather pay fines to the government because they still make more off of scamming our community. I destroy it, a new company Taehyung has lined up takes over, and these selfish bastards get fucked-”

“Okay…Okay…can’t it be after Christmas then. You’re trying to fuck over the company, right, not the residents, don’t take away their Christmas! Please Yoongi, please.” Hoping to convince him, the last thing you need right now is to get stuck in another fight with Namjoon.

“Alright,” Yoongi relents, “But before the new year this power plant is shutting down.”

---

“Thank you, for the compromise,” you walk slowly through the town with the tech talker. “I mean it, thank you.” You didn’t want to fight with Yoongi too, especially on Christmas Eve.

“I take it Namjoon doesn’t compromise very often.”

‘Try never,’ you think. “Anyways, it’s past midnight, Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

Yoongi grunts. But then he stops you, pulling on your elbow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Merry Christmas,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

“Ow,” you giggle, receiving a small shock of static electricity as his head moves away from your cheek. Yoongi laughs softly, unwilling to move away any further. His presence was something you were growing to enjoy, so when his nose nudged yours, you didn’t try to stop him or push him away.

Before your lips touch, you feel Yoongi’s familiar spark, pricking the delicate skin. His lips drag along yours, warming up your insides in the winter cold. You almost don’t notice the wind that shifts, a figure zooming into the night sky. Almost…Namjoon.

“You…d-did that on purpose…” you say, pushing Yoongi away.

“Yeah I saw Namjoon coming,” he says, yanking you back, “But I kissed you because I wanted to, y/n. Fuck, not everything has to do with Namjoon.”

His body tenses and he falls to his knees. You looked down at him, held him there, trying not to cry or scream or destroy everything in your radius. Namjoon had seen you kiss Yoongi. You and Namjoon weren’t together, so why did you feel so devastated?

Captive in your powers, he didn’t resist. He didn’t look afraid like your usual captives, Yoongi just watched you silently while your emotions swirled around inside of you, your own restraints tightening around your heart.

You want to go to Namjoon, but you knew you would only make things worse. Falling to your knees in front of Yoongi, you release him from your telekinetic hold. You don’t know what you expected him to do in that moment, but you hadn’t expected he would wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug.

---

A soft rapting on glass wakes you up. You peek outside your curtains and see RM standing outside your window. It was Joon, in his signature superhero suit, transformed into RM.

“Joon? What’s going on?” you ask apprehensively. You jump outside, shivering, a light robe hastily pulled around your body. He stood stoic, you couldn’t see the anger he felt, but you knew Namjoon long enough to notice the glimpses, the cracks, in his demeanor. He stood, strong as a god, tortured with his thoughts.

“I wanted to give you this before I go back into the city.”

“You’re leaving right now?” he nods as you hold a small gift wrapped in green paper. “I have something for you too.” Placing a hand behind your back you pull Namjoon’s gift from your bedroom, it zips through the air and lands in your palm. It was a pocket watch. You engraved it yourself using your powers.

“I love it.” Your gift box held silver drop earrings, the ends came to a sharp point like two tiny daggers. “They’re beautiful.”

“My hero…” he reads the engraving outloud, voice breaking.

You bite your lip, unable to feel anything but sadness. You busy your hands by putting the earrings on. “How do I look?”

“I saw them and thought of you.” He touched the end of the earring with his finger, the sharp point pricking his skin. “Beautiful and dangerous,” he laughs sadly to himself.

You grab his hand, pressing your fingers on his, his cut is gone when you remove them. “Dangerous only when I want to be,” You try to joke with him, holding his hand, you notice his red knuckles, “What h-happened?”

He lost his temper, he lost control, he used his superpower for his own selfish reasons, he had wanted to destroy things, use his fists to release the anger he felt inside watching another man kiss you.

You shiver and wrap your arms around your body, and Namjoon surprises you by pulling you into a hug.

“I wish it wasn’t like this.”

“Y/n...I hate doing this alone. I hate fighting with you.” A naive part of him thought you would have changed your mind by now, want to be by his side.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I upset you.”

He pulls away from you, “From now on, we should stay away from each other.”

“W-What? W-Why?”

“When I’m around you...I-I’ve done things I’m not proud of...you’re changing me. It was supposed to be the other way…I can’t do this with you anymore.”

Your heart felt divided, cracked by his words.

“Namjoon, I love you.” You proclaimed your love, even though you knew love wasn’t enough to save your relationship.

Yoongi watches from inside your bedroom. “Don’t do it, don’t do it,” he mutters under his breath, watching Namjoon fight his feelings for you. He wanted Namjoon out of your life for his own selfish reasons now. What can he do?? He uses all his power to form a strong electrical charge, red sparks flash across your ceiling behind you, lighting up your room.

“Just stay with me until the New Year, please,” you plead, eyes welling up with tears. Hoping to mend the last threads of your friendship. You can fix everything, why can't you fix your relationship with Namjoon?! But Namjoon has made up his mind, he received the message from Yoongi. The strongest man in the world can’t have any weaknesses, he can’t have you.

Sighing, Yoongi sends Taehyung a message now that you’re alone.

‘RM is headed your way. Y/n is with me. Keep him busy.’’

“How did you find me?” You continue watching the stars in the sky, lying on the familiar rock, the crack Namjoon accidentally created is now gone.

Yoongi lies down next to you. “I haven’t been out here in forever.”

Settling down by your side, Yoongi reaches over to touch your left ear. “Let me guess, a parting gift from your dear friend?” You hum. “It’s a tracker,” Yoongi says. “I tapped into it.”

“Is it?” you say, unphased. You probably should feel betrayed. You feel nothing.

“I just think it's strange, he wants nothing to do with you, but he wants to know where you are all the time.”

You stay silent. Right now you didn’t want to talk to Yoongi, you just wanted to forget about Namjoon.

“I’m just saying, those aren’t the actions of someone who wants you out of their life.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You didn’t want to talk about it or think about it, and you knew the irony of coming to the place that held so many memories for you and Namjoon. But it was easier pretending to be back in the past, where you and Namjoon were best friends again and not enemies.

“I’m sorry,” You’re not used to hearing Yoongi without his usual detached drawl. His tone is soft and soothing, and you melt into the way he runs his hands along your arms comfortingly. “I know you’re hurt, but you’re not alone.”

Turning on your side, you look into Yoongi’s eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You held in your cries. You couldn’t let out your pain, but you could let go of your inhibitions. You rest your head against his, mouth moving closer. His lips, that’s what you wanted to feel instead of this sadness. His soft grunts of pleasure, that’s what you wanted to listen to instead of speaking about your pain. So you kissed him harder, ran our hands down his body, searching for a replacement for your pain, hungrily exploring him until you found it, moaning Yoongi’s name, your hand in his pants.

Your actions turned frantic, fingers tightly wrapped around his rock hard dick, slipping over his length, tasting his soft skin, licking his neck, taking what you wanted.

Yoongi wasn’t going to stop you, and pulled your hips down on him closer when you sat your body on top of his, not when it felt so good, and he had grown attached to the sweet flavor of your wildness and incredible power.

---

“Miss me?”

“Why don’t you just look into my mind and find out.”

“Oof, it’s like a Lifetime movie in there.”

You take a deep inhale, and then...throw Jin off the building.

“Ahh!”

“Shut up! You’re going to get us caught,” Yoongi hisses at Jin, who is currently suspended in mid air over the side of the building, trying to breast stroke his way back onto the rooftop. “y/n, come on, play nice for me.”

You roll your eyes, pulling Jin back. “I’ll let that one slide since you’re all mopey,” Jin says, fixing his jacket.

“I like the new look,” Jungkook materializes behind you and then materializes in front of you. It wasn’t a cape, but the long black coat you wore did look pretty cool. The dagger earrings Namjoon had gifted you dangle in your ears. You didn't care if they were trackers, you wouldn't part with them.

“Stop hopping around, you’re making me dizzy,” Seokjin complains.

“It’s kind of hard not to when I literally have to be in two places at once,” Jungkook appears behind Seokjin. Not only was Jungkook currently helping Yoongi, he had to keep Taehyung safe from a very irate RM, but he couldn’t tell you that.

“You and I could have handled it,” you whisper to Yoongi.

“Think of it as a team building exercise.”

“But not too loud,” Seokjin adds.

“What are we waiting for?” Jungkook pops up between you and Yoongi, draping his big arms around you both.

“Yoongi is pulling data files right now,” You say. The group plans to expose just how much electricity each house is using compared to what the company is billing the residents.

“Almost done. Jungkook hop through the building and send whoever is left inside back to their families, give them the night off.”

“Aye aye.” And Jungkook disappears again.

“And Jin, get the fuck off of y/n and do your job. Make sure we haven’t been spotted.”

“I can multitask,” Jins says, pulling you into a headlock. “Oh no he’s getting jealous.”

Jin relaxes his hold, hand nudging your chin, he points to a very flustered Yoongi. You smirk, “Are you?” The tech talker glares at the mind reader and Jin (telepathically) receives the message. He coughs, untangling himself from you.

Jungkook appears, letting you know he cleared the building. Only the guard, stationed at the front of the entrance, watching manipulated cameras Yoongi altered, remains.

“Ready?” Yoongi asks. You interlace your fingers, nodding. You extend your hand to Seokjin, “Want to watch the show or hop out?”

Seokjin hears your thoughts, the dull howls of anguish your brain manifests. The sadness you can’t escape and try to ignore, this current state of mind becoming your new normal. Just a glimpse into your mind makes him feel trapped in a hell.

“I’m staying. Can’t get rid of me so easily.” He holds your free hand and intertwines your fingers with his, laying a brief peck across your knuckles, trying in his own small way to lift your spirits. You roll your eyes, but smile at him, and inside you’re weeping.

Your eyes remain indifferent as you stare around at the powerplant you’re going to have to destroy, you didn’t really care about the mission, you were willing to flatten everything into the ground if they wanted you to, and part of you hoped they would ask.

Seokjin squeezes your hand, reminding you to focus. Your heels leave the rooftop, your feet leave the ground. You lift the men beside you too. Yoongi has gotten used to your levitation act, but Seokjin flounders next to you, that alone is worth using your powers on the pair. “Hop back in five, Kookie. ”

“Make it ten, gotta check on some things,” and the teleporter disappears once again.

You were used to fixing things, rebuilding buildings, never destroying one. Namjoon was The God of Destruction, not you. Namjoon… That's all you can think about again.

Steel snaps, machines fold in on themselves and explode, concrete disintegrates into a massive pile of dust, and when the dust clears the three of you overlook the massive hole where the large powerplant once stood.

Seokjin breaks the silence. “Goddamn.”

---

“Where’s Jungkook? He's late!”

“Put your hands up!”

The three of you turn around to beams of blinding light. Flashlights and guns point at you and your teammates. A pair of officers scream at you, aiming their pistols at you. “I thought JK said there was only one guard,” you hiss, holding your hands up.

“They were patrolling the area.” Seokjin says after listening to the policemen’s thoughts. “Damn unlucky...for them,” he mutters, hands in the air.

“Err it’s not what it looks like?” Jin speaks with a weary smile. Wearing all black had originally been a good idea, now the trio of you just looked way too suspicious.

“Get on the ground!!” Too quickly, the officers escalate the situation, hitting Yoongi and dragging him to the ground.

“Stop!” you yell when the officers attack Seokjin next, your temper quickly reaching it’s breaking point. You emotions already too wild, anger consuming you.

You catch Jin’s eyes, speaking in your mind, ‘Tell Yoongi to stop all the police cameras on my signal.’ He nods quickly, struggling on the ground.

You push down your anger, putting on your best impression of a helpless frightened woman. “What are you doing?! Please, please, don’t do this!” your voice quivers, on the brink of tears.

“Shut up and get down!” At your feet Yoongi yells loudly as the officer kicks him in the back. The second officer points his gun straight at you. And that is when you truly snap.

“Please, please don’t shoot...him.” you whimper, looking at the other officer. “Don’t shoot your partner…”

“What the hell are you-” he turns his head to his partner, who has his pistol pointed straight in his direction. “What the fuck?!”

“It’s not me! I c-can’t-”

“ What's wrong with you?! Put the fucking gun down!” The other officer draws his pistol again, aiming it at his frightened partner’s head.

You look at Yoongi. The signal he needed.

Two bullets fly as the cameras cut off.

The officer you controlled falls to the ground writhing in pain. Two intercepted bullets lodged in each of his legs by to your powers. “You should be thanking me. Your ‘partner’ was aiming for your head.” You kick him in the jaw and he falls unconscious.

You turn to the second man, paralyzed by fear and well, by you.

“Look at you,” you sigh, crouching down to look at him. “You’re so used to going unchallenged. You think you can do whatever you want because of it, hurt whoever you want, because you’re above the law, right? So how does it feel?” you ask, flicking his badge, “to have a taste of your own medicine?”

“You really shouldn’t have pissed her off, woman is not stable,” Jin quips, cradling his bruised ribs. The officer is red in the face, drooling from his struggle to free himself from your invisible shackles.

“What’s his name?” You ask Jin, looking straight in the eyes of the trembling officer. Jin says his full name. You reach for his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

“His address?” you ask, going through his cards, while Seokjin recites his home address.

“You missed the Apt number,” you flip his identification card between your fingers, “Number 1301.”

“Floor 3” Seokjin adds. A corner apartment.” He scrutinizes the officer’s wide eyes. “The keypad code is 64..50.” He laughs. “When you try not to think about something, your thoughts just become louder,” he taunts.

Your eyes narrow on the officer. “What is his wife’s name?” You can feel his body struggle against you when Seokjin answers.

“Does he have any children?”

“Wrap it up before more of them show up,” Yoongi warns you, he sends messages to the rest of the team, ten minutes have passed and Jungkook still hasn’t hopped back.

“Two, a sixteen year old and a five year old.”

You stand up, glowering down at him, speaking slowly to make sure the officer hears every veiled threat in your words. “What are their names?” Jin hesitates, wondering just how pissed you were, and searches your thoughts before he answers as the officer sits stunned and terrified.

“Where do they go to school?”

“Look at me, we know where you live. We know the names of your wife and children. We know where they go to school. The next time you’re there I could make you take your gun out just like I did right now…” you wait, emphasizing your point, “Or you could do us all a favor, find a way to explain that camera footage away and pretend this never happened.” You give him back the ability to speak and move his head.

He nods, too scared to speak. “Here’s your wallet back, I’ll keep this,” you hold onto his ID.

Jin stiffens, and then punches him in the face, knocking him out.

“What was that for?” You throw the officer’s ID into the pile of rubble, hoping your mind games worked on him.

“I didn’t want to hear his thoughts anymore.”

“Are we in the clear at least-”

“Whoa, what did I miss?” Jungkook materializes next to you.

“Let’s go!” Yoongi yells, the CCTV cameras alerting him you all needed to get out.

---

“What do you want? I told you not to bother me until after the New Year.”

It was Jungkook. He hopped himself beside you, you were back at Namjoon's spot, shunning everyone, watching the last of the decorations be consumed by wildlife. “Is this what you’re going to do? Mope around here while RM goes on a rampage?”

“A rampa-FUCK JUNGKOOK WARN ME.” you gasp, floundering on the floor trying to regain your sense of direction. “Is tha-”

“Warning!”

“Uggh.” You groan. “Yo-Yoongi?”

“Heal him. Hurry. He said you’ve done it before.” Jungkook had transported you to Yoongi’s passed out body, and then both of you to an abandoned building. “I’ll work on the decor.”

Yoongi had a black eye, swollen lip, gash over his temple. He looked thoroughly beat up. He moves, gaining consciousness.

“D-Did Namjoon do this to you?”

“No, it was probably some other overpowered pissed off superhero,” he wheezed.

“This won’t be pleasant.” You concentrate, using all your energy to repair his broken body quicker than you’ve ever done before, rejuvenating him so much so his entire being crackles with energy, energy you’ve given him.

“Whoa, I didn’t even have time to hop a table.” Jungkook appears, lying across two newly appears chairs, before disappearing and reappearing with aforementioned table.

“What happened?”

Jungkook appeared with a wide screen television and Yoongi used his powers to turn on it on to the news. A newscaster reports over the town wide electricity outage, and then the mysterious powerplant explosion, which left one police officer dead.”

‘DEAD? Jungkook, I thought you made sure-”

“I did!”

The face of that familiar officer’s partner flashes across the television. It was the face of the partner who you left with gunshots in his legs, very non-life threatening gunshots!

“Yeah, he was very much alive when I hopped them back to their police car.”

“So what the hell?!”

“Jin thinks his partner murdered him”

“He murdered his partner?! I definitely did not tell him to do that.”

“Well we're being blamed for it, RM figured out it was us who destroyed the powerplant.” Yoongi grunts. “RM blindsided me, used an EMP on me. Fuck, that shit hurt.”

“Jungkook, take me to Tae.”

---

The sunset seemed to shine brighter today. The motions of Taehyung's plan to fix what you had ruined in your hometown were progressing. Electricians from the all over the town and neighboring cities were working under the tech talker's supervision, an investigation into the Governor's spending was underway.

Which just leaves...

“Back already? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Y/n, come with me.” RM floats high above you. Body tense, expression full of anger.

“Going to expose me to the world as a super villain?”

“I will do what needs to be done to make sure you don't kill anybody else.”

You roll your eyes. You didn’t want to explain what really happened, try to make him see your side of things anymore. If Joon wanted to think you were truly a villain, you were going to let him.

“I know you're stronger, but let's see who's faster?”

So you and RM fought like enemies. When you threw the rubble left over from the powerplant at Namjoon, you pushed down your worries because you knew he could take the beating. When he held you in his crushing grip, it wasn't a warm embrace anymore. It hurt more to think he wanted hurt you rather than the pain itself. Before you could make one of the worst decisions of your life, Jungkook appeared and teleported the pair of you across the town until you both landed hard on concrete at the feet of a crowd.

“I thought we agreed to a warning,” you wheeze, still restrained by RM. “Oh, I know you,” you grunt, immediately recognizing a face in the crowd. Actually, you recognized almost all of them.

There was Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jin, along with the punks you dealt with that night with tech talker, the robber you helped escape among the crowd.

Yoongi had used the cell you gave him not only to keep tabs on the men, but reach out to them. He made a deal with them, in exchange for helping Taehyung, he would help them make money and they would all help make this town safer for their families.

“RM, let her go, it's not her fault,” Taehyung says calmly.

“Yeah, IT'S YOUR FAULT!” Namjoon charges Taehyung and you quickly freeze him.

“The officer died after we took the powerplant down, the reports were falsified, let us explain.” Seokjin says.

Namjoon breaks from your telekinetic hold momentarily as you struggled to hold him still, already brought to your knees fighting his superhuman strength, your shaking arms pressed into concrete, focusing your eyes on him, you finally release him when you feel him stop struggling.

Yoongi goes to your side, lifting your tired body up. “If you don't want to listen to us, listen to them,” Yoongi says.

You and Namjoon stay quiet as each man tells their story, the injustices they faced, especially at the hands of the police, constantly targeted, always fighting, always surviving, asking the hero to help them.

“Let's work together this one time, RM.” Taehyung says, keeping his distance. “There are criminals on both sides, we will help you stop your criminals, if you help us stop their criminals. Then if you want, we can go back to hating each other.”

You found out what happened to the dead police officer. Yoongi played you and RM the police car's dashcam audio. His partner shot him, killed him. His partner knew if he didn't cover up what happened, horrible things were going to happen, but he wanted to punish you, arrest you, get vengeance. They argued heatedly, the pain in the officer's legs made him angry and narrow sighted, and in the end, his partner killed him because he couldn't trust him.

Namjoon turned to you instead, you looked so different to him, yet there you stood, the dull eyes you had before glossed over with emotion again, his earrings shining in your ears.

“Are you really going to help me?”

“I'll stand by you, but I'm not wearing a cape.”

“No...” Namjoon utters, crossing his hands over his large chest. “No cape, no deal.” His gaze softens only for a second, only for you.

---

The whole town is out tonight watching the fireworks. One hour until midnight.

It didn’t matter what part of town you came from, sitting under the night sky and watching the magnificent light show put into perspective how tiny you were in this world, how spectacular living could be.

Somewhere in the crowd sits Namjoon and his parents, you could feel him close by.

You find the tech talker on his own, away from the crowd. You sit next to Yoongi. You check his expression, but he remains impassive, watching the fireworks quietly. You can see the bright colors reflected in his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him quietly.

“I knew you would come sit here,” he sighs. The fireworks crackle and pop, loud booming noises followed by hundreds of sparks in the sky.

You scoff, ripping out the soft grass around you with your fingers and reattaching the strands, practicing with your powers, manipulating and “healing” the organic material, something new you were trying to master. Rainbows of colors light up Yoongi’s face. “Oh yeah? What made you come to that revelation?”

“Because,” he drapes his arm over your shoulder and leans in closer, knowing somewhere Namjoon was watching you. “We’re alike”

You laugh. “Oh, you also have feelings for our superhero?”

“I have people I love too, that I want to protect too, it’s safer for them if I keep my distance,” he says during a break in the display, when the night goes still and quiet again, “You did the right thing, letting him go.” After that night, to uncomplicate things, you decided you weren't going to ask for anything more from Namjoon, hopeful it would make your partnership easier.

“Great,” you sigh, leaning your head on Yoongi’s shoulder, resting your arm on his thigh. “We’re just a pair of lonely assholes.” The fireworks crackle again and colorful sparks fall down like rain, painting the night sky in dazzling light.

Yoongi smiles and holds your hand. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

He scoffs, “You okay with that? With an audience?” You answer him with a kiss, pressing your body closer. He holds you while the fireworks around you explodes in flowers of light.

“Want to see something cool?” He whispers against your cheek, continuing to kiss you while his fingers play with yours, interlacing your hands together. “I’m gonna need a charge.” You feel his power pulling, energy flowing between your fingers. The loudest boom erupts from above, a firework exploding closer than the rest, making the crowd ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh.’

“Cute, but I’ll give you one better.” You use your powers to light a couple extra fireworks earlier than intended. The night sky illuminates with all the colors of the rainbows and the crowd cheers. You fall into a fit of giggles and Yoongi uses your distraction to pull you closer to him, tackling your body and laughing with you.

And poor Namjoon has to endure watching it all.

---

“Don't you think it's funny how he is the one up there? When we definitely are more powerful.”

You laugh at that. “Is that what you think?”

“You’ve never fought him, Jin. He does not give up,” Jungkook shudders.

“Hobi beat him!” Seokjin argues.

“It wasn’t easy,” Hoseok adds in a serious tone.

You bite your lip, “No, out of everyone, Joonie scares me the most.”

The start of the year meant a New Year ceremony from Mayor Kim. You watch Taehyung, surrounded by your new friends, as he gives RM a key to the city. It was a tradition now for the superhero, who was less than pleased it was Taehyung who stood opposite from him this year. Now that you were all back in the city, the agreement had dissolved. The crowd cheers loudly, unaware of their secret rivalry.

“You, scared?” Yoongi raises his eyebrow at you.

“She’s telling the truth,” Jin adds. “Can’t believe it,” he mutters.

“His heart is too big, he holds his power back, and that makes him the strongest. If you think I am the one holding back, you have no idea, because if Joon didn’t hold back, if he fought with all his strength...” You smile, “RM would be unstoppable, trust me.”

The group falls into uncomfortable silence at your words. “If I wasn’t here, you would all be toast,” you say smuggly.

You watch from the crowd, catching his eyes. He sees you and the rest of your team, frowning. Yoongi places his arm on your shoulder possessively, and your heart clenches at the glare Namjoon sends you both. You turn away, hugging Yoongi, keeping your back to the stage so the superhero can’t see your face anymore.

“You really believe that?” Jungkook asks, standing behind Yoongi, watching Taehyung shake the superhero’s hand, fake smile offering congratulations to another fake smile.

“Yes, I do.” You swallow, listening to the cheers of the crowd. “I believe in RM.”

---

I have my opinions on him, but I want to know, do you want RM to change or do you think it’s better that he stays “good” and y/n should be the one to change?? In the meantime, Yoongi and y/n are cute, right? Do you think Yoongi is the person who y/n needs right now or is he just manipulative? Dying to see another pair?

Naughty Girl Christmas Masterlist | Prequel

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2640

Part 15===Part 16===Part 17

The next handful of days became a blur of activity. Well, more so for the others than for me.

Hoseok and I had been ordered to strict bedrest, which only one of us actually took seriously. While I sat in bed most of the day, watching movies on my laptop or vegging out on as many snacks as I could convince Jeanette to bring me, Hoseok on the other hand snuck by Jimin as often as possible to help the boys with various projects around the house.

The only reason I even found out is because every few hours I’d hear Jimin fussing at him all the way up the stairs and back to the bodyguard’s bedroom.

I sat with Jeanette, Rose, and Jimin one afternoon, chatting away with them while Jimin checked my leg wound when Jungkook wandered into the bedroom, a stoic look on his face as he sat at his computer desk and turned to stare blankly at my injured leg.

“Something on your mind boss?” Jimin asked as he cinched the bandage tight and turned to begin putting his tools away in his bag.

“Mmm…” 

The noncommittal sound drew my attention and I frowned at him, worry creasing my forehead as I reached my hand over to the small throw pillow I’d been using to prop up my injured leg.

“Oi! Earth to Jeon!” I yelled, tossing the pillow overhand at him. He caught it midair, never breaking eye contact with my leg as he tossed it onto the floor beside him.

“We can’t let Eun Kwang get away with this…” He muttered, the stoic look dissolving into a frown when he finally met my eyes.

“We’ve talked about this Kookie. There’s no point to trying to retaliate. We have no idea where they’re holed up. Nor how many of them there are or what kind of fire power they’re packing.” I leaned forward, pulling my pajama pant leg down and leaning back into the headboard.

“If we had even a sliver of that information…”

“Jungkook please…” I whispered, eyes pleading with him to drop it.

He growled, shoving his way out of the chair and to his feet. Fists clenched at his sides he glared at me, though the moment didn’t last long as his gaze softened.

I shook my head, nodding to Jeanette and Rose. “We have far too much on the line to risk even one of us getting dropped because of some half thought out revenge scheme. Jungkook, going out there would be suicide.”

“You wouldn’t leave a girl widowed before you’ve even gotten a chance to marry her boss, would ya?” Jimin’s quiet words seemed to do the trick.

Jungkook stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape as if he’d had half a mind to argue with the words from the wise doctor. But after a moment of fish bowling he shut his mouth, shaking his head with a resigned sigh.

“No...you’re both right. It’s hot headed and foolishness that’d get me killed before I even made it halfway there.” He bowed his head for a moment, eyes closed as he inhaled slowly.

“See, Tae said you were a smart man.” Rose grinned at him, standing from the bed and patting him on his arm. “Come on bud, let’s get some food in ya. I bet you haven’t eaten all day have ya?”

I snorted at the two, waving them off and thanking Jimin for his hard work. The room quickly cleared out, leaving just me and Jeanette to ruminate in our thoughts for a bit while I shifted around in bed trying to find a comfortable spot to mope in.

“Hey y/n?” Came the whispered voice of Jeanette, causing me to pause in my movements.

“What’s up?” A smile came to my lips as I watched the timid woman worrying at the hem of her shirt.

“Well umm… I was talking to Jin this morning while we worked on breakfast...about the pantry and stuff?”

I nodded as she paused, motioning for her to continue when she glanced over to me with a look of worry.

“Well, it’s just that… Yes, we have an amazing pantry. MRE’s keep for ages and so do canned goods. But like...wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh produce?” When I remained silent and smiling at her words her face lit up.

She began talking faster, turning in place to sit cross legged before me. She pulled the pillow I’d discarded earlier into her lap to protect the tiny protrusion of her belly as she spoke at length about her plans.

“Since there aren’t that many of us it wouldn’t have to be that big at first. And of course it would take a while for anything to grow. But just imagine, come fall we could have all kinds of amazing fresh veggies. Corn, carrots, tomatoes and potatoes. I could even manage cucumbers and watermelon if we could find things for the vines to climb.”

I leaned forward, taking her hands in mine and running my thumbs reassuringly across the ridges of her knuckles as she spoke, watching the idea grow bigger and bigger within her. The passion in her voice alone had me picturing the enclosed area, teaming with life and greenery and her tiny plump form tending to the plants as she coo’d at them as if they were her own children.

As she began outlining plans for bird proof netting she paused though, mouth curved into a gentle O of surprise and if I didn’t know any better, fear as her head whipped to the door to stare at Yoongi who’d been watching us...well her, talk this whole time.

“Oh...Yoongi I…” She bowed her head, seeming to shrink in on herself as if seeing the man had taken the wind out of her sails.

“Go on…” He whispered, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with an encouraging smile.

“It’s just….Jin told me to ask Hoseok, who pointed me to Jungkook, who told me to ask you...and well.”

“Jeanette…” My smile only grew when her gaze finally mine. Hope began shining in her eyes and it seemed that the entirety of her frame lit up with our shared excitement.

“I love the idea. Honestly. We can get Namjoon to draw up your plans. He’s basically a genius so I’m sure he could engineer it to be the second safest place in Daegu. And since we’ve been having issues with Hoseok sitting still for long enough, he can be on duty for helping you till the soil or anything else that you might need.”

“I’ll be there to help as well…”

I glanced over to Yoongi and he grinned at the shocked look on my face.

“All of my end of things is done. You can’t exactly expect me to sit on my thumbs while cleaning my weapons all day now can you?”

Jeanette giggled at his words, gingerly lifting herself from the bed and smoothing out the black YG shirt that drowned her figure, another of Yoongi’s favorite shirts.

“Thank you y/n. Really I mean it. I was worried that I wasn’t able to contribute enough to everything that was going on and well...with this…”

“Hey now, we talked about this.” Yoongi walked over, wrapping her in a side hug and tracing his fingers down the bare skin of her arm. “You’re doing plenty enough. Between laundry and helping Jin cook all the meals?”

“Exactly.” I chimed in, shifting to my side a bit so I could send her a less pained smile. “Nobody in this house thinks you’re a burden in any way. And if they even think it I’ll tell Jungkook to beat them up on the spot.”

Yoongi snickered, sending me another grin. “He’d do it too, no questions asked. So don’t worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

She nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

“Well, alright then. It’s settled.” He began steering her towards the door, shooting me one last grateful smile. “Let’s get those plans started on. Let the boss lady get herself some rest.

As my bedroom door shut behind them, I couldn’t help but to wonder when and how they’d gotten so close.

***

By dinner time I’d managed to convince Jimin to let me down to the basement. Everyone was off doing their own thing and frankly sitting alone to eat in the bedroom again had made me so nauseous just thinking about it that I’d almost opted to skip dinner all together. But he’d seen the desperate plea in my eyes and relented, barring that I allowed Jungkook to carry me down there.

I sat with Taehyung and Rose, munching away at my meal as I watched them giggle over stories they shared of when they’d first met.

“It was a coding nightmare. I’d only been working for the main office for two months when they put his case in my lap. Some young kid that’d managed to bully his way into the Seoul Police department’s criminal database and posted all of the corrupt politicians with arrest warrants and speeding ticket fees to every news site that he could get his grubby little hands on.” Rose cackled, throwing her head back as her entire body shook with the force of her laugh.

“Hey! That was some of my best work!” Taehyung pouted, tossing a wayward green bean in her direction and causing her to snort harder.

“Best work? You had everything so scrambled from that little backdoor snipe that it took their tech department 2 years to set everything straight.” She shook her head, popping the betrayed green bean in her mouth before tossing one of her own in his direction.

He caught it in his mouth easily, smirking all the while before continuing his rant. “It was the art job that did me in.”

“Art job?” I leaned forward, almost instantly regretting the movement when a rib shifted and sent a spike of pain shooting through my chest.

“Shit, you good?” Tae asked, looking as if he was half way to dropping everything to come to my rescue.

I waved him off, shoving a hand over the cursed injury and grinning despite the pain.

“I’m fine. Now come on, tell me about the art job!”

Rose snorted, placing her plate beside her and leaning back on her hands to give Tae a coy smile. “It was why I call him Art Nerd. He decided it would be a good idea to hack into the archives of one of the biggest art museums in the world.”

“You wouldn’t believe it!” Tae tossed up his hands, all angst and agitation as he stood abruptly and began pacing the room. “Of all the places you would think that would be trustworthy about their pieces and whether they were authentic or not. The Louvre!!” He paused in his pacing, pointing angrily to his computer before spinning on his heels to scowl at me when I began snickering.

“Did you know…” He paused, stalking closer and bending forward to glare in my face, “that 87% of all the art in the Louvre is fake?”

I gasped, feigning shock at the revelation.

“That’s right! It’s a travesty! They spit on the names of the greatest artists to have ever walked the face of this planet!” He growled, turning from me to begin pacing again. “The nerve of those imbeciles. Displaying Van Gogh forgeries as if they were the real deal.”

“Needless to say when he tried to tell the world what he found out he got caught.” Rose shook her head, picking at the last of her mashed potatoes with her fork.

She glanced over at me, sly smile broadening into a full grin.

“Did you know he was wanted in 27 countries for that little debacle?”

“Tae!!!” I gasped, eyes wide as I stared at him in awe.

He shrugged, literally beaming at this point with pride though he tried to play it off as bashfulness.

Rose pointed behind me and I shifted around to stare.

“Wait…” My eyes widened with equal parts horror and pride as I whipped my head around to glare at Taehyung. “Tae...you didn’t!!”

This time he couldn’t disguise the pride. He bounded around the sofa, skidding to a stop before what I had previously thought was just a bunch of band posters. There, hanging on the wall was what Tae had told us long ago was a quilt that his grandmother had given him.

He’d sworn that he’d remove the hands of anyone who ever dared touch it. Hell he’d chased Jungkook halfway to downtown Daegu once for nudging it with his shoulder during one of the boy’s many playful basement wrestling matches. But as he slowly and reverently lifted the blanket I quickly realized the real reason why he treasured it so much. Right there on the wall, hanging between two trashy band posters was…

“Tae is that Starry Night?? Like… the actual real fucking deal Starry Night?????” I screeched.

“I couldn’t help it. When I found out they’d hung it between two forgeries I just knew I had to save it.” He lovingly traced his fingers above the protective glass, never actually touching it but making the motions nonetheless.

Rose muttered behind me, snickering into her hand as Tae dropped the quilt back into place and turned to frown at her.

“What was that Jangmi?” he growled, his already baritone voice dropping as he walked back to stand over her.

She squeaked, shrinking back as he crouched down and lifted her chin with a single finger so that she was forced to look him in the eyes.

“I said...I...hnnggg…” The brilliant blush rushing to her cheeks had me bursting with laughter, gripping my sides as I pressed myself into the sofa.

“Damn you two are adorable.” I wheezed, wiping at my tears as I watched the two hackers spring apart as if they’d forgotten I was there.

Tae gathered up our dishes, muttering to himself all the while as he disappeared upstairs. But not before I spotted his own crimson cheeked grin.

“Huh…” Rose muttered. I returned my attention to her, realizing quickly that she was now staring at the security feed pulled up on the tv before us.

“What’s up?” I asked, eyes darting over the various live images before settling on one that showed Jeanette and Seokjin talking in the area they’d decided would be the future garden.

“I thought I saw something.” Came Rose’s absent minded reply. She clicked on the video I’d been watching, bringing it up to fill the screen and squinting at a corner of the shed beside the unaware pair.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, straining to make anything out in the depths of the shadows.

“Maybe not… Tae’s better at security monitoring than I am… Let me just…”

She began typing rapidly, a series of commands appearing on screen before a top down view of the area appeared.

“Is that…”

“A live satellite view, yeah. I figured, I’ve got access to them, why not use them…” She clicked again, zooming in rapidly before suddenly screaming. “Oh shit! There’s chatterers outside the fucking gates!”

“The fuck did you just say!?”

We both screamed as Jungkook charged around the sofa, appearing as if from nowhere and grabbing Rose’s arm in a death grip.

“What do you mean there’s chatterers outside the gates?” Jungkook glared at Rose, the hardened criminal in him causing her to cower as far back as his grip would allow her.

“Kook…”

“I’m sorry okay! I was wondering what it was that I’d seen in the backyard, and when I switched to the satellite feed I saw them. It’s at least 30 of them. Jungkook, we’re surrounded!”

brown piano - yoongi

i’ve never written fic on this account before so bear with me, but here’s a little something about the only man i trust. and no i will not be capitalizing anything xx

summary: friends to lovers. yoongi and y/n have known each other casually for a couple years and never intended to take their friendship further than a few study groups together or the occasional dinner with friends. but being in the same applied piano class has brought them together, and their mutual love for epik high bonds them more than they’d like to admit. 

warnings: language, probably. there’s a couple cliches in here too, i couldn’t help it. i probably only refer to yoongi as a honey dumpling twice 

word count: 8.3k (its really just a long ass love letter to bv4/in the soop yoongi)

playlist: end of the world - epik high, gsoul / love song - epik high, park sung woong / go - epik high / can you hear my heart - epik high, lee hi / life is good - epik high, jay park

“fuck,” you whisper, nimble fingers slipping over the wrong keys once again. for a music composition major, you’re pretty lousy at practicing your instrument. mostly because you practice and mess up and get so frustrated that you stop for a minute to scroll through your phone and before you know it, your time in the practice room is over. 

the time limit on your practice contributes to your stress, but the keyboard you keep tucked in the corner of your apartment just doesn’t do this song justice. a lot of the students in the school of music ignore this room, because the old brown spinet creaks too much for their “high class” performances, but you like it for its personality and the all-encompassing feeling it gives to your songs. when you play this piano, you can’t help but listen to its song. a keyboard or a grand can easily become background music to you, but this one is stubborn. it will not be ignored, so you come back to it when you need to fall in love with a song again. 

the pinging of your phone pulls you out of your daydreams about the daunting black and white keys in front of you, and you check the time left on your reservation before opening your messages. 

it’s a text from yoongi, who’s been talking to you more often lately. usually you just exchange pleasantries with each other when your big group of friends happens to get together, but you’re both in this applied piano class and it was nice to have a familiar face among the pretentious students you struggle to get through lectures with. 

the quiet music technology major never caught your attention before this class, because he never had much to say when you were talking in passing. but this class has taken your friendship from nonexistent to yoongi texting you semi creepy photos of you through the practice room door with the text “your posture is shit, that’s probably why you keep messing up.” you swivel around on the bench to glance at the door and notice a mop of black hair in the distance. he must be finishing up a session in one of the studios because he’s usually your competition for this practice room. the piano reminds him of the one he played growing up, he says, so it’s the easiest for him to practice on. he’s more gifted than you are however, so he doesn’t need to practice for class as much as you do. hell, he could probably think of a song to play on the spot and still ace the performance midterm without another thought. 

“where are you headed?” you text back, shuffling your sheet music together as neatly as possible before you start gathering the rest of your things. “i sounded so bad that you’re running away?”

“no,” he replies, and you can picture his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “need coffee.”

“omw,” you text quickly, going from tenderly placing things in your bag to slightly shoving them down enough to zip everything up securely. you gaze sadly at the piano before you leave. you really should try and practice some more, you have a few minutes left in the room, but you let out a sigh and head for the door instead. you need coffee and your dumpling shaped friend right now. hopefully the combination will help you get over some of your stress.

you find yoongi just outside, leaning up against a pillar of the building with his hands in his pockets and a bucket hat that he’s produced out of nowhere pulled over his head. he peeks up at you from under the brim when he hears the rickety doors clang shut, and he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the stone column. 

“how’s the song coming?” he asks casually, leading the way to your mutual favorite coffeeshop like it’s second nature. which honestly, it’s getting to be like that. how did you go from barely knowing yoongi to spending almost every day with him? 

“uh, my fingers don’t work anymore i think,” you explain. “i’ll get it though. i just need to practice more.”

“i could always help you,” he offers. you quirk an eyebrow at him and he continues. “like, i could listen and maybe watch the way you’re playing, and if there’s a spot you’re constantly messing up on i’ll just know to cough a lot during that part of your performance so the professor doesn’t hear it.”

“wow, who would’ve thought that min yoongi would be my knight in shining armor,” you joke. “what were you working on?”

“another song for my mixtape,” he tells you simply. “i want to sample an epik high song, but i can’t find one that fits the vibe yet.” 

“hmm,” you think. “you’ll find one. or you can wait for their new album and use something off of that.”

“yeah, but i won’t have the same connection to those songs that i do with the old ones, you know?” 

“then just go back to your favorites. have you tried doing something like lesson one?” you ask as you arrive at the coffeeshop. yoongi opens the door for you and ushers you inside, scooting you out of the way so someone zooming by on a bird scooter doesn’t accidentally clip your heel. 

“when i first started working on this i tried doing my own version of it, but i don’t think anything i have to say would be better than tablo,” he explains.

“that’s not how you should be thinking when you’re making music,” you scold. “whatever you make will be worth listening to, and whatever you say in those songs will mean something. thinking like that will only limit what you make, min yoongi.”

he pauses and looks at you with an unreadable expression before he pulls his lips into a straight smile and nods. 

“huh. you’re right, y/n,” he sighs. 

“and for that little nugget of wisdom,” you say, “you owe me a coffee. toffee n-”

“toffee nut latte with no sugar, i remember,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls out his wallet. “what size?”

“considering i’m a little high strung from not nailing my song yet, probably a small,” you tell him. he nods and orders you a medium anyway and gets a muffin for you two to split. you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for your order, but yoongi breaks it after checking his phone.

“namjoon wants to know if you’re free this weekend,” he deadpans, making it sound like a statement when it’s meant to be a question.

“i don’t know, why?” you ask, pulling the warmed muffin closer to you. you start picking out one of the chocolate chips before you continue. “isn’t it fall break? i’ll probably stay here and practice. it’s too short of a break for me to go home.”

“apparently we’re all staying in a cabin or a box or something up in the mountains,” yoongi says. “it’s supposed to be a combined birthday trip for him and jungkook, i think it might just be the guys but he says you’re welcome to come with us. he says you look stressed.”

“why does he think i look stressed?!” 

“because you do,” namjoon says, popping up beside you from one of the couches against the wall. he must have been buried in a book or his laptop, because neither of you noticed him when you first walked in. he gives you a casual side hug, tussling your hair and talking to yoongi above your head. “hey hyung.”

yoongi grunts a hello in response, and you share an eye roll with namjoon before he goes on about the whole mountain thing. he explains where it is, how long you’ll stay, and some of the other specifics that have already been arranged. it sounds nice, so maybe you should go.

“you should really come,” namjoon half pleads. “it’s kind of last minute, so not many of our friends can make it, but we need you to be the dj for the weekend. and i think you deserve a break.”

“you do,” yoongi chimes in, picking up your drinks and leading your small group to a table near the window. “it’ll help you come back to the song later without getting tired of it. you should never be frustrated when you’re playing.”

“i guess i’ll consider it,” you say. “you’re lucky i live too far away to go home for just a couple days, otherwise i would have to turn you down.”

“and i don’t need that kind of rejection on my birthday,” namjoon teases.

“your birthday was last month,” yoongi points out. 

“but i’m celebrating it now, hyung. birthday rules still count for the celebration of said birthday.”

“yeah, but it’s not fair that you played the birthday card then and you’re doing it again now...”

sipping your latte, you laugh to yourself as yoongi and namjoon go on with their petty argument. you notice a fleck of chocolate on yoongi’s lip from the muffin, and you involuntarily lift your hand to wipe it off, but you stop yourself before it can be noticeable. you just let your hand fall to your coffee cup and take another sip of your drink, thinking about how many clean sweaters you have that you can wear this weekend. 

-

you end up in the car with jin, hoseok and yoongi on the way to the cabin that they all rented. you’ve been roped into cooking duties for the weekend, and the four of you went grocery shopping before heading up to the mountains to meet everyone else. actually, you begged them to let you cook, bring booze, anything, since they didn’t let you chip in for the weekend at all in the first place.

“i’m not going to invite you last minute and then make you pay for anything,” yoongi told you clearly as you left the coffeeshop after talking to namjoon. “plus, jimin owes me at least $50 for ruining one of my mics, so i’ll just make him pay extra.”

like namjoon said, you are technically the dj for the weekend. you know the guys well enough to know what kind of music they want to listen to, so you crafted the perfect road trip playlist and shared it with hoseok, who’s in the front seat. he’s groaning and skipping each song he doesn’t like while jin calmly drives, complaining every now and then when hoseok skips a song jin knows all the words to.

and yoongi? well, he’s quietly scrolling through his phone beside you in the backseat. jin insisted on you sitting back there, claiming hoseok has some kind of carsickness that only appears when he sits in the back, so that meant you and yoongi were cramped in the tight space together. no biggie, but you keep bumping elbows with him, and you have to pee, and you didn’t sleep enough the night before so you’re already a little testy. you try to situate yourself so you hopefully forget about your need for a restroom and you bump into yoongi once again, and it sets you off. you don’t do anything aside from shoot him an angry glare before huffing a little bit and adjusting yourself so you’re fully looking out the window next to you. a few moments pass in silence save for the sound of go by epik high playing over the speakers. 

you’re pulled from your mini rant session in your head to, oh my god, yoongi nudging your arm. you’re ready to give him a piece of your mind when you turn to lock eyes with him, but the delicately peeled tangerine that he’s offering you is so...confusing? and slightly endearing, so you abandon your plan to be mean to him and just graciously take the sweet fruit. 

“where’d you get this?” you ask as you pull apart the half he handed to you.

“did he give you a tangerine?” hoseok asks with a smile, peeking at you both in the rearview mirror. 

“yeah, like out of nowhere too.”

“if it’s oddly warm y/n, don’t be alarmed. he keeps them in his pockets for safekeeping,” jin explains.

“in your pocket?” you laugh, making yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “have you ever sat on one?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles, bowing his head to focus on peeling off the stringy white skin left on his slices of citrus. the car falls into silence again and you notice everyone bobbing along to the epik high song still playing. you smile to yourself and finally pop a piece of the tangerine into your mouth. 

it’s maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten, and you surprise yourself by thinking for a moment that its sweetness could be due to the fact that it came from yoongi. 

“are you still working on your mixtape hyung?” hoseok questions, once again warmly breaking the quiet of the car.

“yeah, why?”

“have you tried doing something like this?” he asks, referring to the last few bars of go that play as jin turns down a road that must be just seconds away from the house, it looks exactly like the pictures the boys have shown you and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought of a bathroom and a bed. 

“i have,” yoongi starts, peeking at you without turning his head. “y/n suggested it, actually. we talked about going back to this album for inspiration and it’s helped a lot.”

“it has?” you ask, beaming at the thought of bringing yoongi out of his funk with your mutual love of this group. yoongi simply shrugs and makes some non committal sound as the car comes to a stop.

“alright everybody, thank you for riding jin express. please don’t forget to rate and tip this ride in the app once you exit the vehicle,” jin jokes. everyone shuffles to get out of the car, and as hoseok pops the trunk you’re reminded that you really should start cooking right away. you politely ask hoseok to bring your bag in with his stuff, and he promises not to drop it before you grab some of the groceries and head for the kitchen. 

-

once everything is taken care of and the cars are unloaded, you find yourself in the middle of a crowded kitchen full of ingredients and booze and boys. not a bad place to be.

hoseok did bring your bag in for you, you can see it laying by the couch a few steps away from the kitchen island. you’ll just have to hope there’s a room left for you at the end of the night, because your back won’t do well on a sofa.

“so what are we making, chef min?” you ask, washing your hands after playfully pushing jimin out of the way.

“carbonara,” he says simply. “namjoon’s request.”

“and did you get what i asked for hyung?” jungkook asks, several beer bottles distributed evenly between both his hands. as he waits for yoongi’s answer he passes the bottles around until everyone has a drink and he looks satisfied.

“yeah, we got the pizza stuff. we’ll make it tomorrow when we watch the movie.”

“what movie are we watching?” you’re curious, only because the last movie you watched with them was one you’ve all seen hundreds of times collectively so it was less watching and more reciting the movie line for line.

“that’s a secret,” jungkook says with a glint in his eyes. “my choice.”

“it’s gonna be some sappy love story, i’d bet ten bucks on it,” jin jokes.

“make it twenty and i’m in,” taehyung adds. 

“oh you’re on.”

-

despite never cooking together before, you and yoongi are a well oiled machine. you receive some help from jin in the form of chopping or washing, but for the most part it’s you preparing everything, from the chicken to the sauce and handing it off to yoongi to be finished in the biggest pot of pasta you’ve ever seen. it smells amazing though, and you’ve attracted a park jimin who’s a few drinks ahead of the chefs and he has a mischievous idea in his head.

“so how long have you two known each other?” he starts out innocently, speaking more to you than to yoongi. 

“uh, i guess i met yoongi at a party freshman year, when i met all of you. but he was arguing with someone, so i didn’t get to say much. just introduced myself and moved on,” you explain. “we haven’t really been friends, at least i would say, until we took this piano class together.”

“and how’s that going?”

“fine, considering he and i are the most competent out of all of them,” you state matter of factly, earning a chuckle from yoongi.

“most of the kids in there took this class thinking it’d be an easy elective grade.” yoongi adds, sliding beside you and reaching across to grab the colander you just used to drain some vegetables. as he retreats you catch a whiff of his cologne and a hint of tangerine. you smile to yourself and turn back to jimin.

“plus yoongi and i played the same song for our first assignment, so i had to confront him about that to establish dominance.”

jimin laughs maybe too much at this, and yoongi pipes in from the stove to quickly change the subject.

“y/n, i’m gonna need the cheese for the topping soon.”

“yes chef!”

dinner is ready soon after that. jimin had to be removed from the kitchen for tasting things that weren’t quite cooked yet, and jin took his place next to you. it seems that all of the boys are interested in learning more about the person that yoongi insisted on inviting this weekend, but you don’t know that. after a final taste test from the three of you and several approving nods, jin summons everyone from the rest of the house.

“it’s ready!!!” jin yells. it’s too loud for the situation but you’ll soon learn that these boys usually are. it gets their attention though, because one by one they file into the kitchen and grab plates and start serving themselves. you get your own plate and follow behind taehyung, who’s currently wearing a blanket cape. while you wait, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to find yoongi.

“y/n, i already made you a plate,” he tells you, holding up one of the two plates in his hands. “c’mon.”

“oh, thank you,” you reply, returning the plate in your hands and gratefully taking the one yoongi extends to you. 

“did you hear that? he made y/n’s plate and not mine,” jungkook pouts.

“yeah, my feelings are hurt,” jimin whines. 

“at least it’s not your birthday!”

“i wouldn’t have made you a plate no matter what, jimin,” yoongi defends himself. “but i wanted to be sure y/n sat next to me, i was at the food, i got a second plate. no biggie.”

“leave the man alone,” namjoon cuts in. “he’s being a good host to the outsider.”

“outsider?!” you ask incredulously. “i just made you dinner. be nice to me, birthday boy.”

“y/n, i looooooove you,” jungkook coos, plopping down at the table across from you and yoongi. “it looks delicious.”

“it really does,” namjoon agrees. “thanks for making it. especially you, y/n. you didn’t have to.”

“i don’t mind,” you shrug. “besides, i wasn’t sure how well any of you could cook and i didn’t want to eat shit for the weekend, so...”

your sly remark is met with a chorus of insulted voices, mostly from jin and yoongi, but jimin pipes in that he’s good at everything while namjoon and taehyung insist that they “try their best” in the kitchen, and jungkook just nods and says something about ramen for eight. 

“yoongi’s quite the chef, actually,” jin says. “he can make almost anything.”

“that’s impressive,” you say with a nod, peeking at yoongi. his cheeks are turning pink ever so slightly. 

“yeah, you should ask him to cook for you sometime,” jin continues. “maybe after one of your late nights in the music building.”

there are knowing glances exchanged all across the table, but you and yoongi are oblivious. he hasn’t looked up from his plate in a few minutes just to be safe, and you really have no clue, you think it’s some best friend inside joke. which it is, depending on how you read the situation. namjoon brings the attention back to what the plan is for tomorrow, and the little tension between you and yoongi dissolves without notice until it’s time for bed.

after dinner, everyone went their separate ways, jin and jungkook flocking to the game console in the living room with hoseok watching on, jimin and taehyung made a mess of the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner, and you found yourself outside by the fire with namjoon while yoongi shuffled through the cars, mumbling about some bag of producing equipment he couldn’t seem to find. it was easy hanging out with them, which is saying something considering that these boys are basically family. but they’ve welcomed you with open arms, and it isn’t until you’re bundled up with a nice blanket and a crisp cider that you realize how much you needed a break like this.

your eyes start drooping as you stare into the fire, and namjoon seems to have the same idea as you because you both stretch at the same time and mumble something about going to sleep. he says he’ll handle the fire, and you take the blanket from his chair, along with yours, and trudge back into the living room.

“hey, where did you guys put my stuff?” you ask, looking behind the couch where you noticed your bags earlier. jimin and jungkook are the only ones left awake, and jimin glances at you quickly before replying.

“i think jin brought your things upstairs, y/n,” he explains. “first door on the left.”

“oh, thanks,” you reply, gently laying the blankets on the back of the couch before you head to the stairs. “night guys.”

“good niiight,” they both sing-song back, and you laugh as you shuffle up to your room. 

the door is closed, so you reach out to open it with no hesitation, but when you see yoongi sprawled out on the bed, you jump a little.

“damn, y/n, you scared me,” he mutters, sitting up and dropping the notebook he had been scribbling in. “do you need something?”

“uh, no?” you reply, looking around. “i just, um, jimin said this was my room, so, i guess i opened the wrong door, is all.”

“wait, are those your bags? i thought they were namjoon’s,” yoongi says, pointing to, yep, your bags, laying at the foot of the bed. 

“what?” namjoon asks, poking his head into the room. “i’m with jungkook.”

“are there any rooms left?” you ask, looking between them both. “i don’t want to intrude, so if i have to sleep on the couch-”

“what’s with all the chit chat?!” jin whisper yells, popping his head out of the room across the hall. 

“y/n doesn’t have a room,” namjoon answers.

“no, y/n is sleeping with yoongi,” jin says, face twisting into a smile once he realizes his wording. “i mean, the two of you are sharing a room. you have the biggest bed, so i thought it would be more comfortable.”

“are you sure there isn’t another room one of us can sleep in?” yoongi asks with a certain emotion hidden in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“nope, y/n is your friend, so you’re stuck together,” jin says with finality. “now shut up, i already have to listen to hoseok snoring, i don’t want to hear any more bickering about beds.”

“hey, i don’t snore!” a voice, obviously hoseok, shouts from behind jin. 

“good night!” jin laughs, shutting his door. namjoon chuckles as well, giving you and yoongi a sympathetic shrug before he heads to his own room. leaving you all alone with yoongi. you slowly turn back to him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“i, uh-”

“sorry-”

“no, you go.”

“i was just gonna say i could sleep on the floor,” yoongi offers, but before he can even finish his sentence you’re shaking your head.

“no way,” you refuse. “it’ll be no biggie, right?”

“right,” he agrees. 

“right,” you nod, convincing yourself that this isn’t as awkward as it seems. “i’m, uh, gonna go change in the bathroom though.”

“that would be smart.”

-

falling asleep in the same bed as yoongi was no big deal. really, what was the harm? it’s not like this trip has awakened feelings for him that you didn’t know you had...except it absolutely has. which is why you’re so freaked out in the morning when you wake up next to the man you just dreamt about cuddling all night. 

wait.

your pillow wasn’t that warm when you went to sleep. 

and you weren’t holding onto anything either.

cool, yeah, no big deal, definitely. you’re just latched onto yoongi’s arm while you drool on his shoulder. very attractive and not at all weird friend behavior. as you’re silently freaking out, eyes barely open, you register warm breath hitting the top of your head, and you look up to catch yoongi staring at you.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he stutters, pulling his arm from your grasp too soon. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t, like, i was trying to figure out if you were awake or not-”

“yoongi, it’s fine,” you laugh. “you staring at me is better than me turning you into my personal teddy bear. sorry about that.”

“you’re good,” he mumbles, sitting up. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, something you register as his go to nervous habit, as he keeps speaking. “it was nice actually. uh, because of the cold.”

“right,” you say, smiling to yourself. a layer of silence falls over you both as you lay there and yoongi fumbles for a minute on his phone. now you’re the one staring, looking up at yoongi’s delicate features like someone just took a blindfold off of you and you’re seeing the world in such a clear, sharp image. you’re noticing yoongi like you’ve never noticed him before. 

to stop yourself from memorizing the outline of yoongi’s profile, you pull the covers off and get out of bed, groaning at the cold. you throw on an extra hoodie and some wool socks, noticing yoongi doing the same. once you’re both dressed, you’re staring at each other again, and the silence returns. it’s not awkward, just heavy, and you break it with a simple, “yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t tell the guys i drooled on you, please.”

“as long as you don’t tell them i was staring at you.”

-

the kitchen is buzzing more than you thought it’d be, cups of coffee already poured and the stove sizzling with eggs, sausage and some sad attempt at pancakes. last night when taehyung said he tries to cook, this must be what he meant, because the finished plate of “pancakes” looks like...a good try. 

you beeline for the coffee, inhaling the comforting scent and enjoying the warmth it brings to your fingers. as you take your first sip you realize the boys have been quiet since you and yoongi ambled downstairs.

“so,” jungkook begins. “how’d you two sleep?”

“fine,” you both reply simultaneously, raising a few eyebrows from your audience. convincing. 

“sorry,” you apologize. “not a morning person.”

“neither is yoongi,” namjoon notes. 

“seems like it’s a good thing you’re sharing a room then,” jimin says over the rim of his coffee mug, smug smirk not as clearly hidden as he’d like it to be.

“hyung,” taehyung pouts from the stove. “can you help me with these?”

“i’m not good at flour-based things,” yoongi replies without a glance, deepening the pathetic pout on the chef’s face.

“i can help you, tae,” you offer, sliding past him and taking the spatula. he utters his gratefulness, going as far as kissing your hand, and yoongi finds his ears flaring red at the sight. chill out, he thinks to himself. tae’s just being tae. 

but jin notices the change in yoongi’s demeanor after taehyung’s playfulness. it seems that when it comes to the two of you, one of the boys will always notice something before either of you do. 

-

ok, so, something that wasn’t made totally clear to you is the fact that this is a ski trip, the main event of the weekend is skiing, and here you are with nothing thicker than a nice sweater to keep you warm. maybe it was mentioned in passing and you just didn’t pick up on it, but the conversation last night at dinner made you realize how under prepared you were. 

that’s how you end up shuffling through the ski lodge down the street, laden in several borrowed layers. an extra pair of pants from jimin, a hoodie from jungkook and a jacket from hoseok. and yoongi’s gloves, which he insists he won’t need because he suddenly has to work on his mixtape before he loses his inspiration. you wonder if it’s the sight of the mountain covered in artificial snow that does it, because you’re even thinking about how you wish you could paint or draw so you can capture the true beauty of this place. 

but yoongi knows the reason he has to write these lyrics down now is because of the lingering feeling of you holding onto his arm, head on his shoulder and delicate breaths brushing over his chest as you slept so peacefully. in all honesty, yes, he had been staring at you, for quite some time actually. and it was while he stared that he got the idea for this song. 

so, yeah, he needs to write it down now, and he figures the best time to do it without prying eyes is while everyone is occupied with skiing. he hunkers down in the ski lodge, promising to watch everyone’s stuff as the rest of you layer up and carry the rented equipment outside to the slopes. you follow jimin and taehyung to the bunny slope while jin, namjoon and hoseok go toward the snowboard-only trails with jungkook deciding on the competition style ski slope. as you walk out, you look back at yoongi, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he passionately writes down whatever is on his mind, and for the briefest moment, you hope that he’s writing about you.

-

“i’m never going skiing again,” jimin declares, dropping all of his wet clothes in the living room of the rental as soon as he gets inside. “why did i fall down so much? how did i get so wet because of that?”

“well, jimin, snow is just frozen water, and water is wet, right?” namjoon teases. jimin’s response is to throw a soaking scarf at namjoon, gross ski slope water flinging everywhere in its wake.

“ew, jimin!” you yell, dodging the tail end of the scarf as it makes a terrible sound when it collides with namjoon’s chest. 

“he deserved it.”

“yeah well now i’m covered in your gross sweat water too,” you whine. jimin acts like he’s going to throw something else wet and squishy your way, and you shriek before you dodge behind yoongi as protection.

“don’t get me involved in this,” he groans. you mumble an apology, secretly wiping some of the water off on his scarf.

“i’m gonna go change,” you tell him. “so knock before you come in.”

yoongi nods in response, heading toward the kitchen to get out the ingredients for dinner tonight. as per jungkook’s request, you’ll be assembling your own pizzas, which means you’re off the hook for cooking, at least. everything is premade, it just has to be warmed in the oven, and jin has already declared himself the pizza master, so you just get to enjoy.

“wait, y/n!” yoongi semi-shouts, stopping you on the first step of the staircase. “can you take this up with you? you can put it on top of my black bag.”

“which one, you have three,” you playfully dig, taking the bundle from his hands anyway. it’s his jacket from earlier wrapped around something, his journal maybe? and you tuck it under your arm as you continue upstairs.

you drop the bundle on top of yoongi’s things, knowing he’ll grumble about it messing up how neatly he arranged all of his bags and their contents. that’s why you find yourself peeking back at it after you’ve changed. plus the nagging feeling in your brain that maybe, just maybe, there’s something written about you in there has you tip-toeing to the corner of the room before you gingerly pick his jacket up, letting his notebook tumble out. you hold back, neatly folding the jacket and draping it over one bag before you lean down to grab the notebook, which happened to fall face down, pages open. 

it’s not a crime that you glance at the words as you pick it up, and you’re reading the whole page before you can stop yourself. you’re about to start on the next group of words when you hear a knock at the door, and you drop the notebook, feeling caught. you scramble to put it neatly with his jacket, but the words inside are running through your head as you call out to yoongi that he can come in. 

if he knows that you were snooping, he doesn’t show it. he simply thanks you for folding his things, and you nod at him quickly before you duck out of the room and go back to the kitchen, all the while thinking about the lyrics that made your stomach do backflips while at the same time making your heart feel totally content. what you read on that page was pure comfort embodied in a few words, and it came from the comfort yoongi feels when he’s around you. you recognize that feeling, those words resonating because that’s the same way you feel when you’re around him. you smile to yourself, thinking about how to confront yoongi about this. 

except you can’t. because then he’ll know you were looking at his things, his innermost thoughts. you know how personal his lyrics are to him, and you know he’d be upset that you looked without his permission. so you resign yourself to making your sad little pizza, distracting your mind with cheese, cheese and more cheese. hoseok must notice the gloomy look on your face, because there’s suddenly a ball of sunshine at your side. he slides ingredients onto your pizza without you knowing, until you look down and see a smiley face staring back at you. you can’t help but laugh and lean into his warmth, giggling as he makes up some silly voice for the new pizza face he created. 

yoongi enters the kitchen at that moment, seeing how you smile at hoseok like that, laughing so easily at his actions, and suddenly the song he was so eager to write, to compose, to pour his heart into, suddenly he wants to go upstairs and burn the pages. he won’t, because he knows he’s just being jealous, but he distances himself immediately, silently helping jin with slicing some fresh onion or prepping the oven for another pizza. yoongi was ready to show the song to you after dinner, but now...maybe he never will. 

-

once you’ve all eaten an unhealthy amount of food, and consumed an impressive amount of alcohol (”we have to finish it before we leave!!” - jimin), you’re all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, another jungkook choice. it’s some sappy love story, and you find yourself looking over at yoongi each time something touching happens onscreen. jin notices as well, nudging yoongi the next time he sees your eyes drift in their direction. yoongi acknowledges jin, who directs yoongi’s attention to you, and when your eyes meet you can see something has changed. you turn away, looking back up at the tv and shivering despite the warm fire just a few feet away. taehyung, sitting next to you on the floor, offers you a corner of his blanket, and you take it, scooting closer to him as you try to focus on the terrible plot of this movie.

the boring movie, the warmth of tae along with the fire, and the two glasses of yoongi’s fancy whiskey you wanted to try now sitting in your stomach all lull you to sleep at some point. tae shuffling around next to you wakes you up, and in your stupor you look around and can’t find who you’re looking for.

“where’s yoongi?” you mumble with a yawn.

“already in bed,” taehyung explains. “he went up a little while ago.”

“hm, ok,” you half-whisper, voice barely returning after your quick nap. you stand up and stretch, alerting everyone to your movements because you’re right in front of the tv. jungkook whines, and you side step out of the way. “m’goin to sleep too.”

“alright,” taehyung says, pushing the blanket out of your way so you don’t trip. “sleep tight!”

“don’t let the lovebugs bite!” jimin chirps out, making some of the boys giggle. you don’t register it as you walk to your room, just barely awake. 

for the second night in a row you’re surprised to see yoongi on the bed, still awake, but tonight he’s got his laptop and all of his producing equipment is laid out around him. he doesn’t acknowledge you entering the room and you don’t pay him any mind either, kneeling down to rifle through your bags at the foot of the bed. once you find what you’re looking for, you can’t decide if it’s the sleep or the whiskey, but you unabashedly take your sweater off right in front of yoongi. suddenly he’s jumping out of bed, equipment scattering.

“uh, what- why, what, what are you doing?!” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he looks anywhere but down at you. you laugh at how jumpy he is, and quietly apologize.

“sorry, i should’ve warned you,” you explain. “too tired to go to the bathroom.”

“tha-that’s fine,” he replies, still not looking at you. “tell me when you’re ready.”

“good,” you say once you’ve pulled on the shirt you slept in last night. “why’d you come up here so early?”

yoongi risks a glance at you, color coming back to his cheeks once he sees that you’re clothed again. he starts meticulously packing up the tech covering the bed, leaning over his laptop and furiously saving what he was working on before he closes it. 

“uh, i just didn’t like that movie,” he lies, not wanting to mention how jealous he was seeing you laughing with hoseok and then sharing a blanket with taehyung. he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, but he is. he wants to tell you how that made him feel, but he doesn’t. 

“ugh, me either,” you groan, rolling up one of the stray wires on the bed before passing it to yoongi. “not my favorite genre.”

yoongi notices that you’ve folded the wire the way he likes, without harming it too much and with the ends tucked in just so. the fact that you remember such a small detail has his heart warming again, and suddenly the gloomy thoughts he had about tonight have washed away. he all but forgets why he was in a bad mood in the first place as he looks at you, crawling under the blankets and he has the urge to stop you, to wake you up again so that he can play you what he was working on. but he can do that later, he will. he sees you glance up at him, patting the bed next to you.

“c’mon, i promise i won’t drool on you tonight,” you assure him, and he laughs before pulling the covers back on his side so he can lay down. he turns the lamp off on his bedside table and then settles in, suddenly missing the warmth of you from last night. 

“good night,” he mumbles, looking over at you on your phone, setting an alarm for tomorrow. the rental ends in the early afternoon, so there can be no sleeping in. 

“night yoongi,” you reply, locking your phone. you keep it on your chest for a moment, contemplating how tired you actually are. before you came in, you could’ve fallen asleep on the floor, but now, laying next to yoongi, you’re reminded of those lyrics and you don’t think your mind can turn off. after a few minutes of silence, you decide it’s probably best to just try to sleep, having your phone on might bother yoongi. you need to charge it anyway, but you groan as you remember you never packed your charger. 

“hm?” yoongi hums at your sound of frustration.

“do you have a phone charger plugged in over there?” you ask quietly. 

“mhm.”

“can i use it?”

“yep.”

“are you almost asleep?” you ask, even quieter now, moving over so you’re a little closer to him than before. 

“trying to be.”

“i’ll plug it in then,” you say, carefully reaching over him to grasp blindly until your fingers reach the cord. you fumble with it for a moment, successfully plugging your phone in eventually, and you start to retreat to your side of the bed. as you pass back over yoongi, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and mumble another good night, not even realizing what you’ve just done. 

there’s no way you can fall asleep now, and neither can he. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks up. 

“y/n.”

“what.”

“look at me.” 

slowly, you turn your head back to him, and his intense gaze has you blushing before he even says anything.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize.”

“ok. right. sorry,” you quickly reply, voice still barely audible, but with the lack of space between you two it’s not hard for yoongi to hear. 

“y/n,” he says again, this time grabbing your hand beneath the blankets. 

“yeah?”

“i think i might be in love with you.”

“that’s....nice,” you squeak back, and yoongi lets out a loud laugh. your blush deepens at the sound.

“that’s nice?” he laughs. “that’s all you have to say?”

“yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?” you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow. it’s dark in the room, but you clearly see him nod, and you don’t even remember moving to connect your lips to his. the moment you do, there’s a spark of electricity flowing through you. it’s a simple kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, both knowing what move the other is going to make before you even make it. yoongi pulls himself up so he can cage you underneath his arms, long fingers brushing your cheek and sending more sparks down your spine. he cups your face as he delicately tries deepening the kiss, your lips opening just slightly to let him in. he tastes like mint, and something else, something....citrus-y. even though you don’t want to, you pull away from his lips, his pout chasing you as you rest your head back on your pillows.

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, fear slowly creeping in.

“when did you have time to eat a tangerine?”

“seriously? that’s the question you have for me right now?” he asks, laughing again but quieter this time. it still makes you smile at the sound.

“hm, i do have one question,” you say. it’s dark in the room but you can see yoongi encouraging you to go on with a lift of his eyebrow. your smile deepens as you speak. “how long have you been in love with me?”

“okay, good night,” he grumbles, turning over. you let out a sound of frustration and prop yourself up on an elbow, holding onto his shoulder with your other hand. 

“this ok?” you ask quietly, slowly melting into his side. he makes a sound of confirmation, and you pull him back towards you slightly. “i still don’t have an answer to my question.”

“when did i fall in love with you?” he asks for confirmation.

“ooh, you fell in love with me, how romantic,” you tease. “i asked how long it’s been, but i’d take either answer.”

“ok, yes, i did fall in love with you,” he begins. “you’re annoying so it took some time.”

“hey.”

“not done.”

“sorry.”

“and how long?” he continues. “mm, when i saw your name on the sign up sheet for the room with the brown piano, that’s when i knew for sure. so i guess a couple months.”

“hm. alright,”  you respond, butterflies suddenly in your stomach and fluttering up to your throat. “that’s.....nice.”

that sends you both into a fit of giggles right as jimin and taehyung are passing outside your door, and jimin pulls him toward the sound. but taehyung accidentally bumps his knee on the door, alerting you and yoongi to their unwanted presence. 

“go to bed!” yoongi shouts, making you jump while scaring the now snickering boys outside your door. yoongi lays an arm over your waist seeing you jerk at the sudden noise, and you feel a little bit of that comfort that he so perfectly put into words with his lyrics. 

“you too!” jimin shouts back, laughing all the way to his room.

“and you called me annoying,” you whisper to yoongi.

“you know they put you in here on purpose,” he tells you.

“huh?”

“they knew i was into you, so they made sure we were sharing a room,” he explains. 

“so you knew about it too?” 

“i-i knew we might share a room, i didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed,” he stumbles out. “once i saw there was one bed i assumed they gave you your own room. i’m...i’m glad i was wrong.”

“well min yoongi, i never expected this,” you tell him.

“pff, seriously?”

“seriously,” you confirm. “guess i was too busy with my own feelings for you to notice that you were into me.”

“really?” he asks with a smile. you nod, but realize he may not see it in the dark.

“yeah,” you whisper. 

“how long?” he whispers back.

“honestly? probably longer than i’d like to admit. you’re really cute, you know.”

“back at ya.”

“not done,” you scold.

“sorry.”

“but i finally accepted it when i...” you trail off, and then you decide it’s best to just tell him. “when i read the lyrics in your journal.”

you can feel him stiffen at your words, but he doesn’t move his arm from its place on your waist. 

“which song?”

“the one from today,” you reply. “wait, which song? there’s more than one?!”

“uh, good night!” he exclaims, trying to turn away again. you grab his arm and stop him though, placing your hand over his.

“min yoongi!”

“hey,” he mumbles.

“i hope i get to read the other ones at some point.”

“you will,” he assures you. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “uh, so, you still haven’t used the l word, and that’s totally fine, i swear, but, did i cross a line? by using it already?”

“nah,” you shrug. “i’m just not good at this, so you’ll have to give me a little time. i’ll say it when i’m sure.”

“alright. take your time,” he says with a nod. it’s quiet again, and you think you’re both finally going to fall asleep when you feel yoongi’s lips on your cheek. “good night, for real. feel free to use me as your teddy bear again.”

“you sure?” you ask with a smile.

“i insist.”

- 

the next morning, you keep it chill, trying not to tip off the guys and let them know their little plan worked. but damn, how sneaky of them! you’ll have to thank them later though. for now, you’re helping them clean the house so you don’t get charged for leaving the rental a total mess. yoongi is in the living room clearing bottles from last night and you’re washing dishes with hoseok. yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, and you stick your tongue out at him whenever he catches your eye. once everything is clean, and the bags are in the car, you’re ready to head back to the city to enjoy the last bit of break. 

you’re the car dj again, next to yoongi in the backseat again, but this time you have a new playlist. epik high’s new album came out this morning, so you queue that up for your intimate little listening party in the car. everyone is in a good mood from the trip, so you’re talking over most of the songs in the beginning, just noting quickly when you like a lyric or a beat. yoongi scribbles things down when the inspiration strikes him, and your mind starts drifting back to your performance midterm. you’re starting to think you may be playing the wrong song, but the question is, what song will you play instead? 

as you get to the end of the album, and the end of your weekend, one song catches your attention. you check your phone, noting the title as you turn the volume up slightly. you listen extra hard to this song, trying to memorize the chord progressions as they come. you start composing the song in your mind, tapping out the melody on your lap as you decide: end of the world will be your performance song. you glance over at yoongi, still focused on his notebook, and you reach out to lightly tap his hand. he looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, dewy cheeks shining and mouth slightly open, questioning your actions with a quiet “hm?”

“i’m sure now.”

May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 1: The Reaping

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader 

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 4.6K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

What little shred of hope for survival you may have had, after hearing your name announced from the reaping, was immediately squashed minutes later by two simple words. “I volunteer”.

Volunteers from District 4 were not uncommon. There was a not-so-secret training complex the capitol turned a blind eye to, in a warehouse near the docks. During your time in school you knew of several kids who trained before and after classes. At the age of twelve some of them dropped out all together, with the sole purpose of training every waking second of the day so they could volunteer at eighteen. There was no need for an education if your only purpose in life was to compete in a death match that offered a lifetime of rewards to the winner.

After the misfortune of having your name drawn you looked around, silently begging for one of the girls to come up and replace you, only for no takers. But when Kim Namjoon eagerly announced his intentions of volunteering (the reaped twelve-year-old boy on stage immediately bursting into grateful tears and rushing back to his mother in the square) it was easy to understand why no one had stepped up this year. Back when you had attended school, before dropping out to assist your father on his fishing boat after your mother died, Namjoon had been in some of your classes –although he very rarely showed up. He was immensely popular with everyone; in part because of his handsome physique and model like dimples, partially because of his superior intelligence, but mostly because it was well known he was by far the leader from all the kids in training.

You had never attended a training session (more fool you for thinking you would never be unlucky enough to have your name drawn, and banking on one of the girls who did train to take your place if you did) but the center near the wharf was close to where your family’s boat — that functioned as both a fishing ship and your house — was docked. During the many occasions you had walked past, you sometimes stopped to peer through a crack in the doorway and watch. A majority of the times you had seen Namjoon inside amongst the group of around twenty regulars; working out with weights, sparring with an array of weapons, or climbing the rope attached to the ceiling that was surely 30 feet high with nothing but cement to drop back down to. The years of work had turned the dimpled twelve-year-old you once shared a math class with into a lethal killing machine. And now you were going to be stuck in an arena with you as one of his targets.

You stood frozen as Namjoon strode up on stage, a grin on his face, waving to the camera before shaking the hand of the capitol’s representative — a pastel blue haired woman by the name of Periwinkle Eveweather. You could tell Periwinkle much preferred Namjoon to you from the twinkle in her eye at how well he was playing up to the camera. There would be no need for her to have to force him to act like being slaughtered like an animal was an honor, like she would for you. The next moments passed far too quickly in a blur, being lead off stage to bid farewell to your families. As you sobbed in your father’s arms, an only child saying your last goodbye, Namjoon was getting a pat on the back from his older sister, a previous volunteer and victor. Shortly after you were ushered on board to the train where you now sat, Namjoon at your side and your mentor sitting across the table.

A small part of your brain found it difficult to take Finnick Odair as a mentor seriously given he was younger than you. But your rational side was quick to silence that judgment with a reminder that exact dismissal of his age was a major contributing factor to his win three years ago. The feeling of despair ate away at your insides as Finnick took an immediate liking to Namjoon. You couldn’t blame him for it, Namjoon was by far the more likely of the two of you to survive, so it only made sense for him to put more attention on the candidate with the best chance, but it still made you feel awful none the less.

“And what about you YN?”

You jumped feeling Namjoon’s hand tapping your leg softly under the table, his head wordlessly nodding in Finnick’s direction without making any eye contact to you. You had become so distracted by the mug of tea in a decorative porcelain cup in your hands, you failed to recognize your mentor’s piercing sea green eyes were now focused on you.

“Sorry, what about my what?” you mumbled dumbly, feeling incredibly insecure at Finnick’s sigh.

“Your skills, what do you bring to the games?”

Well that explained why you had tuned out, there was no need for you to listen to Namjoon describing all the potential ways he was going to kill you within a week or so. And there were a hell of a lot of ways.

“I don’t know really, I’m not someone who’s trained like Namjoon,” you paused to think, pretending not to notice Namjoon’s smug smirk in the corner of your peripheral vision as Finnick frowned slightly.

“Neither was I, and that caused a lot of the careers to underestimate me,” Finnick replied, shooting Namjoon a pointed look which caused his smirk to disappear. You tried not to smile at that, settling instead for relaxing slightly into your seat.

“I can fish, so depending on the arena I can potentially find food, but more importantly I know my way around with a knife,” you declared, feeling a little more confident. The hopeless despair was still overwhelming but the least you could do for yourself, and your father, was to go out with honor.

“Very good,” Finnick nodded “don’t underestimate your face either.”

“My face?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “How am I supposed to kill anyone with that?”

Finnick sighed, leaning further back into the lounge he was occupying on his own, pinching the bridge of his nose on his handsome face in exasperation.

“Both of you listen, this is potentially more important than all of those little training sessions or fishing catches the both of you have ever made combined. You’re clearly genetically blessed to continue District 4’s reputation of having the most beautiful tributes, you in particular” He paused to lazily point in your direction. “If you actually want to win the games, you want the people of the capitol to adore you. And they’re a city of shallow cunts,” another pause to shoot a charming smile in Periwinkle’s direction “no offense”.

“Offense taken!” Periwinkle gasped indignantly but Finnick was already speaking over her without a care.

“And as shallow cunts what these people love, more than anything in their pathetic little vapid lives, is beauty. You,” a point to Namjoon, “have been training your whole life for this and will have a body to represent that. Show it off. They love flair, they love confidence, they love a show. Flex those biceps for them, they’ll go mad. Flash your abs and they’ll fall in love. And work those dimples, cause these suckers sure worked for me, got me a trident,” Finnick grinned to show off his smile and twin indents on each corner of his mouth, Namjoon mirrored the gesture and you felt your heart clench at how easily he seemed to turn on his charm. Tall, well built and handsome, he was just as gorgeous as Finnick. Too bad he was very likely about to be the literal death of you.

“And you,” Finnick turned his attention to your direction and you felt Namjoon’s eyes burning into you from the side “you’ll be the prettiest thing they’ve seen in years, possibly in the history of the games”

Your face flushed at the comment, even though you knew it wasn’t intended as a compliment. There was no point in sweet little lies to butter you up and the fact of the matter was you knew you had an aesthetically pleasing face. Your facial features were in perfect balance, skin clear, thick hair that fell to the middle of your back and eyes that you had been told sparkled like stars in the night.

“They’ll love that shit,” his finger lazily circled around pointing to your cheeks that were flushed in embarrassment at his candid assessment of your appearance.

“These people are so used to artificial, that something so beautiful and pure will be coveted like the fattest diamond they could possibly hang from their necks. You ever fucked a guy, sweetheart?”

“Excuse me?” you balked at the invasive question, earning a sharp laugh out of Namjoon, a scandalized shriek from Periwinkle, and an eye roll from Finnick.

“I’ll take that for a yes and don’t worry I’m not interested. The capitol thrives on corruption, greed, and a need to claim rare treasures for their own. Put an innocent little dove like you, with a face like yours, in front of them and they’ll go insane. Act right at the parade and in your interviews and you’ll have sponsors gifting you everything you could ever need in that arena”.

You sat wide eyed not even knowing how to respond. You didn’t bother with arguing over the status of your supposed virginity because whether it was true or not didn’t actually matter, it was all about the perception. If getting dolled up and fluttering your eyelashes could potentially result in a knife being dropped from the sky in the arena, you could suck it up and give these disgusting people what they wanted.

X

The train ride to the capitol took just under three days in total. During that time Finnick and Namjoon spent a lot of time together, which you weren’t surprised with in the least. It was only natural to favor the tribute with the better odds, as much as Finnick’s little speech on the first day tried to make you think you could have a chance. Finnick still made some time for you though, which was mostly spent on guiding you how to attract sponsors. You spent a majority of the time in your room, a lot of it crying, most of it sleeping, and some of it playing around with technologies you had never had access to before in your life. The only time you really saw Namjoon was during breakfast and dinner where you ate together with Finnick to discuss district strategy. You weren’t surprised at all by Namjoon’s plan to join the career pack, but you were slightly surprised when he spoke of you as a part of that plan. You were a little annoyed he didn’t even think to ask your opinion, but logically speaking it’s not like you had any option. It was either join them or make yourself an easy target. Plus, any alliance with Namjoon reduced your need to have kill any other tributes personally. The only thing now was to hope districts 1 and 2 were as receptive to the idea as you were.

When you arrived at the capitol you were immediately ushered into a clinic that was like a fusion between a spa and a hospital. You were stripped, examined, and assessed by a doctor before being dressed in a paper thin hospital gown. After a painful injection (“that’s your tracker dear, so the capitol can monitor you in the arena”) you were passed over to the beauty department who scrubbed, exfoliated, waxed, showered, moisturized, treated, conditioned and polished your entire body from head to toe. But at the end when you were standing before a mirror, you could see the results were worth it.

As Finnick had stated, you were already beautiful to start with, but it was like taking an uncut gem and polishing the stone to make it shine. Your hair was a couple of inches shorter with all the damage from years of saltwater being trimmed off. A treatment of conditioners you couldn’t care to remember had tamed your thick locks into smooth waves that had been layered to frame your face and flow prettily down your back. Whatever impurities that existed on your skin before had been entirely lasered away, and your whole complexion was now soft and glowing. Your eyebrows had been plucked into identical manicured arches and some sort of needled gun had permanently filled them in. A gel had been applied to your lips to boost their plumpness, without overly inflating them or drastically changing their shape, giving your mouth a cherubic quality. Staring at your reflection you raised a perfectly manicured finger to poke at your cheek, feeling the new silky smoothness beneath your fingertip, watching as your mirror image copied the action. It was surreal. You recognized the person in front of you as yourself, all of your features were still the same, but just somehow perfected?

You mostly ignored the gushing of your newly assigned stylist team — a set of triplets named Ruby, Garnet and Quartz — as they picked out garments, stretched measuring tape across and around your body and argued over what colors would bring out your eyes the best. They were sweet and well meaning with their compliments, but the growing nerves over being prepped for the chariot parade in a few hours made you unreceptive.

The concept they eventually decided on for your fishing district was ‘Rulers of the Sea’ and you were dressed in a Grecian inspired gown. The iridescent blue and green material, that sparkled like the sun reflecting off the ocean, was clasped at the top of your left shoulder with a silver broach in the shape of a starfish. Intricate embroidery was patterned around around the waist where the fabric was cinched tightly to create an overly enhanced hourglass silhouette. The bottom half flowed to your sandal clad feet and seemed to sway with the slightest of moments, a split on the right ran to the middle part of your thigh. Your eyes were a smoky combination of the colors from your dress, lashes coated in extensions and a layer of mascara to give you a seductive yet doe eyed appearance. There was a strange dichotomy in your styling where they were attempting to preserve your ‘natural’ and ‘innocent’ traits whilst simultaneously taking full advantage of the fact you were eighteen in order to market sex appeal.

Your favorite part (that you hated to admit even liking given the circumstance you were even in) was your hair. A section from each side had been pulled away and pinned at the back in a princess style, with numerous tiny clips of glowing sea shells and starfish holding it in place. Glittery extensions had been clipped in tastefully creating an appearance as if your hair was literally shining. This was then finished off by an ornate tiara placed on the top of your head.

By the time you were finished your stylists were practically in tears, fawning over you and calling you’re their greatest masterpiece. They mistook your eyes watering as pride in their work and not disgust at their pride in dressing a cow off before sending it to the slaughterhouse.

“No dear, you can’t cry and ruin all that make up we just spent so much time perfecting” Ruby chided, dabbing at your eyes with a tissue as Quartz and Garnet guided you out the door and into the small vehicle which was about to take you from the clinic to the parade. You didn’t dignify her with a response, merely grabbing the tissue from her hand as you were forced into the car. As soon as you were inside the car sped off, arriving at the destination very shortly after. From behind your tinted windows you could see horses being lead to empty chariots and your first sight of the other tributes, the people you were either going to have to kill or be killed by.

When the car stopped, Finnick was the one to open your door and offer you a hand to get out, which you accepted. As you stood up he appraisingly ran his eyes over all the details of your make-over, before nodding his approval.

“They did well,” he stated and you nodded your head in passive agreement as he dropped your hand to press his to the small of your back and guide you towards your chariot. Namjoon was already there, dressed in his own Grecian toga of the same fabric with a crown on the top of his newly styled hair. Sensing your arrival, he turned to look at you. Namjoon’s eyes widened comically before quickly composing his features almost as instantly as he had reacted. “Very well,” Finnick whispered, and you allowed an amused puff of air out.

“Your chariot awaits my dear,” Finnick said with a mock bow as he nudged you towards Namjoon, who extended his arm for you to hold on to. Not sure what else to do, you placed your hand delicately on his forearm, his other hand then coming to rest over the top. For a brief moment as Namjoon guided you both into the chariot, you could almost imagine you were a princess being taken to a ball by a handsome prince, but any such delusions were ruined by what Namjoon whispered next.

“It’s such a shame there can only be one winner, you really look good by my side.”

Your jaw clenched and you moved to rip your hand off his arm but his grip over yours instantly tightened with a laugh, as if expecting that exact reaction.

“Calm down princess, I don’t plan on killing your pretty little face for a while yet.”

You looked up at him like he was insane as the chariot began to move forward. He thought your reaction was from fear he was going to kill you now? And not that he perceived your life as only having value from being pretty enough for him? You were furious and about to rip into him before you heard the approaching roar of the crowd ahead at the end of the tunnel. Namjoon was oblivious to your rage, a perfectly poised smile, flexing his dimples that Finnick would be proud of, already painted on his face. You paused, for all you knew that could be an attempt to psych you out before facing the crowds, potentially losing you sponsor opportunities. Turning away from Namjoon, you took a deep breath to try and compose yourself. You plastered the docile soft-smiled wide eyed expression on your face that you had practiced with Finnick on the train, as your carriage emerged form the tunnel and onto the road lined with screaming spectators.

The entire parade was a blur of flashing lights, fireworks, thunderous cheering and echoes from the microphone that distorted whatever message the president greeted you with. By the time your chariot returned to the tunnel your mind was entirely blank but with the satisfied nod from Finnick as he waited to welcome you both back, you knew you had done well.

“If District 2 is anything to go by then you’ve won yourself a lot of admirers tonight” Finnick practically sang as he helped you down. Confused by his words you turned around looking for the other district to see the duo from two, the carriage over from yours. Dressed in gladiator styled garments, that was common from them every year, the girl was fiddling with a ruby dagger (you hoped was just a prop) whilst the boy was staring straight at you. ‘Boy’ was the wrong word to describe him, as he definitely had to have been the same age as you, if anything he looked slightly more mature than the legal age to even be here. He was tall, though not as tall as Namjoon, and lithe. Beneath a decorative breastplate you could see his sun kissed golden skin adorned with the toned definition of his pectoral and abdominal muscles. His face was incredibly handsome, by far the most handsome of any of the male tributes. Rich copper hair had been styled to frame his aristocratic features; a high bridged pointed nose, high cheekbones, sharp jawline and rich dark chocolate brown eyes that were intently focused on you.

“Speaking to other tributes before training is technically not allowed, but it’s enforced the same way as your training centers are, so not at all. You’ve got five minutes until those cars arrive to take you to the living quarters, go talk to the careers and work out an alliance,” You broke the eye contact to look at Finnick as he spoke, clearly having witnessed your little interaction.

Namjoon took the lead, confidently stepping off the carriage with a winning smile and striding towards the pair from two. With a sigh you hitched up the long material of your dress and followed behind him. You could still feel the male’s eyes burning into your skull as you looked across to notice the pair from District 1 also making their way over — their own mentor likely having given them the same advice as your own.

“I’m Namjoon and this is YN,” you weren’t particularly pleased by Namjoon deciding to speak on your behalf, but chose to roll your eyes behind him rather than interrupting. “We’re interested in continuing a long standing tradition of successful career pack alliances. I assume from you joining us over here, that you are as well.”

“I would typically say that to assume only makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’, but in this instance you are correct,” the other male from District 1 spoke. You tried to stifle a laugh, but the warning glare Namjoon shot you from the corner of his eye told you that it wasn’t successful. You merely smiled back and blinked innocently with a shrug.

“My name’s Yoongi, and an alliance would be in all of our best interests.” He was shorter than Namjoon and District 2, only an inch or two taller than yourself, but somehow still just as intimidating. His pale skin was contrasted by pitch black hair and sharp coal like eyes that were openly assessing the group of you.

“Krystal,” his district mate offered by means of introduction, and you wondered if the two were siblings. She shared his light complexion, dark eyes and her sleek midnight hair was dead straight down past her waist. Both were dressed in black, their outfits embodying the luxury their district was known for; Yoongi in a tailored suit with subtle embroidery detail, Krystal in an elegant fitted gown made of the same fabric, both topped off with luxurious fur capes draped over their shoulders.

“I’m Athena and he’s Hoseok,” the girl from two spoke. She appeared to be the same height as Yoongi but you noticed a heel on her sandals giving her an extra few inches. You couldn’t bring yourself to look across to Hoseok, knowing his gaze still hadn’t broken since staring at you from the carriage.

“Is that real?” you asked, gesturing towards the dagger Athena had been playing with before that was now held limply in her right hand.

“Why don’t we find out,” she replied with a smirk, instantly flipping the dagger in her hands to point the tip between your eyes.

“Athena!” Hoseok hissed dangerously, slapping the dagger from her hands and cause it to fall onto the ground below. The lack of metallic ‘clang’ revealing it as fake.

“Calm down, it was a joke!” Athena snapped back, reaching down to pick it back up, whilst shaking her head in annoyance. Before you could assure her it was fine, Hoseok stepped forward to present you with his own version of the prop. Reaching out he grabbed your wrist to place the ‘dagger’ in your hand.

“See, the material is just a type of fiber that gives the illusion of metal, but is really not hard at all.” Gently he ran the blade along your palm, and true to his word there was no edge at all. But the image still looked real and seeing a blade dancing across your skin, knowing someone was going to try to kill you with a real one very soon, made you feel ill. Sensing your discomfort from the trembling hand, Hoseok immediately pocketed the knife, but still maintained his hold on your wrist.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, angel,” he spoke softly and you frantically looked to the others to see if they could hear him. Namjoon who was the closest merely looked amused, Athena was showing Yoongi the fake dagger, whilst Krystal had her eyebrow raised in your direction.

“I hope not,” you awkwardly tried to joke, pulling your wrist slightly to subtly try and break the hold, but he only tightened his grip forcing you to look up and back into his eyes again. His gaze from a distance had already been intense but up close it was heart stopping. There was a passion in his eyes you had never seen before in your life and it was solely focused entirely on you. It was frightening, you couldn’t imagine what you had possibly done to warrant being on the receiving end of something so intense. You tilted your head down and away from the others, humiliated over being so easily intimidated. If an attractive man holding your wrist and making eye contact with you was all it took to fluster you, you may as well just sign your own death certificate now.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, dropping your wrist to place his finger on your chin and raise your head back upwards, though you kept your eyes lowered, staring at his jawline to avoid direct eye contact again.

“I’m promise I won’t hurt you, love. Not now, not ever.”

You were about to ask him how he could possibly say something like that given you were about to become direct competitors in a battle to the death, when a sharp whistle stole your attention. Snapping your head to the side you saw Finnick jerk his head, indicating for you and Namjoon to return. You exhaled in relief, grateful for the reprieve.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Namjoon said to the group, moving next to you and causing Hoseok to pull his hand away. You nodded to show your agreement with Namjoon whilst making eye contact with the other three you barely had a chance to speak to. You hoped they didn’t think that you were somehow forming something just with Hoseok based on his actions. You were going to need all the help you possibly could get if you wanted a chance to survive.

“Tomorrow,” Krystal agreed, making proper eye contact with you for the first time. She was smaller in height than you, thinner too, but somehow carried a cold and intimidating aura. You offered her a polite smile in return and a nod, relieved when she nodded back, before you returned to Finnick with Namjoon.

“How did it go? Looked pretty good” Finnick asked just as the capitol vehicle pulled up to take you to the tribute quarters.

“It seems our little dove here won’t just have the capitol for an admirer,” Namjoon smirked, getting into the car.

“So I saw,” Finnick muttered as a reply to Namjoon’s back, then turned to face you.

“Don’t let him psych you out,” he said, stepping aside so you could follow Namjoon into the vehicle.

You glanced at Namjoon before turning back to see Hoseok standing by his car but staring directly at you again. His eyes were still radiating the same intense passion from moments ago, you had no idea what to make of it.

“Who?” you whispered back to Finnick, ducking your head as you stepped inside. Finnick moved to shut the door.

“Both of them”

This is basically an introductory chapter to gauge reception. Future updates should be longer. I have the whole fic plotted and the outline itself is 5.9K words and this chapter was only based on the first paragraph. The next update will focus on the training sessions/interview with Caesar and the update after should be the one where they actually enter the arena.

Feedback is much loved, but please avoid asking for updates. I don’t have a schedule but I do have crippling depression so I write when the motivation hits lol

I can’t be honest (but neither can you) || Changkyun/Reader (m)

➣ I cannot believe this is my first contribution to Monsta X, this is really how I’m entering the writing side of this fandom OTL Also hello idk how to write short summaries?? I proof-read this at 4:30 AM so please tell me if I missed something lol. Fair warning I switch P.O.V.’s often in this and with absolutely no regard to any writing rules

➣ Changkyun/Reader | Angst[?] with a surprisingly happy ending that I didn’t mean to write | Showcases some bad coping mechanisms from both he and the reader | Mentioned Wonho/Reader, but it’s purely platonic in a sexual way | Smut warnings include: mentions of choking, pegging, fingering, mentions of a ruined sexual scene, sort of self-imposed edging if you squint, hair-pulling, facesitting

➣ It’s been almost a year since he called off the relationship and your name still tastes like a mixture between sugar and ash on his tongue when he says it, your picture is still saved in his camera roll, and he’s taken the plunge these last few months to reach out to you to be friends again. His hyungs tell him it’s a bad idea, and he tells them he knows, because he does, really, he swears he does. It’s just that his heart soars when he gets to talk to you and he can’t remember why he was ever scared of letting you in past that last wall he’d put up, and he’s going to your place and he hates himself because instead of “I love you” he says “please fuck me” and even now he can’t be honest to you about his feelings.

“I want you to fuck me.” He’s standing at your door, speaking in English with that deep voice of his, and you just blink blankly at him - he hadn’t called or texted to say he was coming over, and to be completely honest you hadn’t seen him in over a week. The silence is uncomfortable, but his eyes are intense, and he refuses to shift shyly under your blank stare.

“..well, come in I guess.” You invite him in with raised eyebrows - he goes easily, knowing your apartment like his own home. It’s been almost a year since you two broke up, but he hasn’t forgotten anything. That same stupid plant he hated was still on your table. He had no idea how it was still alive.

“So.. we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t hung out in a while, but you decided I’m the person you want to fuck you. Suddenly.” Your tone of voice conveys your lack of belief - this sort of feels like some very strange joke, but you have no idea who’d ever come up with one like this.

“You fuck Wonho-hyung all the time, and you aren’t dating him, so why can’t you fuck me?” His words are said in a rush, the first sign of nervousness, and you cross your arms and cock a hip. It’s your default power-pose, lets you feel like you’re in control when you have no idea what’s going on.

‘Is that really all it is?’ you want to ask, but you stay silent. He doesn’t seem aware that when you’re with Hoseok it’s more for the other man’s emotional well-being than it was just to get laid. Sometimes people needed to be broken apart and pieced back together lovingly just to feel okay. For Hoseok, you were a friend he trusted enough to let break him and then take care of the pieces that remained shattered on the floor.

“If you tell me why then maybe.”

“I’m not doing shit for a maybe.” He fires back instantly, gaze narrowing. His shoulders have tensed and he’s widened his stance, an unconscious reaction to the way your own body language had changed. Whether he actually felt it or not, at a subconscious level he believed he was being threatened.

You step forward and snag him by the forearm - the fight goes out of him instantly, replaced by pure innocent confusion as you lead him to your bed. He notices dully that you’ve redecorated your bedroom - though it makes sense considering he was the one who had helped you liven it up before.

“Sit - and try to relax. All the muscles in your shoulders are tensing up.” Your words have the opposite affect you wanted them to have - he tenses more, seemingly thrown off by your care, your notice of his minute actions.

You watch the way his gaze drifts over your room – it catches and lingers on a group picture of you and the rest of his group, tucked safely into the frame of your vanity mirror.

It’s a nice picture, though you really don’t remember taking it. You’re fairly certain everyone was drunk though, since you’ve got your arm thrown around Minhyuk’s shoulders in it, pressing your cheek against his.

It’s cute, even if looking at it is bittersweet. You can see the question on his face, the ‘why did you keep this?’.

“It’s not like I stopped being friends with them just because we broke up.” You feel defensive over your choice, face heating – you weren’t even near him in the picture, on completely opposite sides in it. He just murmurs a soft “oh” that sounds dejected, and you desperately don’t want to think about it.

“Anyway –“ You’re desperate to move on at this point, and he seems to feel the same because his attention snaps back to you. “You’re not really in a position here to argue and make demands, but fine -“ It was just sex, right? For you, anyway. “I can’t literally right now, I have a class in 30 minutes, but if you tell me why then we can negotiate.” You feel like some sort of fucking dealer.

He seems vaguely surprised you’ve agreed so easily, but he works his jaw and tries to figure out how to explain his reasoning to you - whatever it may be. You let him think and go in search of your computer bag. Online classes were a pain, especially those that required attendance in the form of a webcam. The bag has been thrown into a corner of your room, and you sigh and bend down to begin your annoying search.

“Well, we’re not together anymore, so..” You crane your neck to look at him, even as you continue to rummage through your backpack for your computer cord. Damn thing was in there somewhere, you knew. “I don’t have to worry about what you think of me anymore?”

He finishes his statement with an accidental upwards inflection that turns it into a question, and your hands pause before you turn back around and continue searching, mulling over your word choice carefully. ‘You never had to worry’ sits on your tongue, something that is desperate to be said, but you swallow it back down. He wouldn’t believe you and it’d cool the current mood.

“I see.” You finally settle on, standing and popping your vertebrae back into place as your prize - the fucking charging cord - dangles from your hands. Your two words could convey many meanings, and you can see from your peripheral that his brow has furrowed. It’s not the answer he was expecting, though you think he probably didn’t know what he’d been expecting in the first place. “Then - what is it you want?”

“For you to fuck me.” He answers again, and then swallows as he notices your blank stare has returned.

“I know that, you said that. I meant what specifically are you looking to get out of this?”

“I want it to hurt.” His words make your breath catch in your throat, emotions swinging between vaguely turned on and worried. Sure, he’d had some masochistic tendencies in bed before, but - “I mean - I don’t – not physically -“ He’s switched to Korean in the wake of your silence, a comfort language, and you wonder if he even realizes he’s done it.

“Okay.” You respond simply in Korean back and he stops his rambling, just blinks at you. You see the tension finally start to drain out of his shoulders and switch back to English purely for your own sake, because it was easier, definitely not because you wanted to be able to hear his voice speaking your native language. “So long as you promise to use safewords, I won’t ask. I’m not your therapist and I’m not -“

“My girlfriend.” He finishes your sentence quietly, back to English as well, and your mouth goes dry.

“And I’m not here to judge you.” You remedy - you weren’t going to mention anything about your past relationship, and he looks away quickly at that realization. “You mentioned Hoseok -“ His hand twitches at his side when you call his hyung by his real name, but you mercifully don’t call him on this. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you’ve gone this long purely on the denial that he regrets breaking up with you, and it’s too late to stop that now. “- so I’m going to treat this situation exactly like that.”

“Okay?” Changkyun has no idea what that means, his fingers curling into your bedspread. You check the time - 20 minutes until class.

“I’m your friend, and I want to help you. This doesn’t change anything between us, this doesn’t add some extra dynamic, some extra layer.” Your voice has gone business mode and he’s stiffened his back at it, an ingrained response from being in the music industry for so long. “I’m not doing this just because I want sex - if you are, that’s fine, but I’m just doing this to help you out. Is that clear?” He nods once, eyes wide. You think he’s cute. You’ve always thought he was cute, and it reminds you of how cute turned into smitten and smitten turned into perfection and perfection turned into love and love - well, he ended love. “Changkyun - do you promise this is just about sex or release of some kind and nothing else?”

Your tone had softened, and he’d been let out of whatever thrall your no-nonsense voice had put him into. The question hangs in the air heavily, dripping of a nectar so sweet it’s sickening.

“Yes. I promise.” His voice is hoarse, cracking and quiet - and you think he’s lying.

But you’ve held on to your denial for so long. He had said before that the spark was just gone - and what were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t his fault; people fell out of love all the time. You could barely believe he’d ever been interested in you from the beginning and you refused to believe you were worth falling in love with for a second time. The fact that you had managed to remain friends is more than you could have ever hoped for.

“Okay.” You repeat his assurance, more for your own benefit than his. The room is quiet, and thunder rolls in the distance. Fuck - a storm meant spotty WiFi for your class.

You check the time again - 15 minutes.

“We can use the stoplight system -“ His gaze has blanked so you take the time to roughly translate it into Korean, explaining until his brow smooths out, and then you’re back to English. “Aside from that, though, I need to know what you’re interested in, what you want to happen or don’t want to happen. You can hang out here if you want during my class, or leave, I don’t care - but take the time to think over what it is you want in this session.” Your words are too clinical, you know this, but you can’t keep yourself from doing it that way. You know most of the things he’s into and not into, but if you don’t take this route then it all feels too intimate. Besides, he’d always kept a very careful hold of how much control he’d let go around you before, never wanting to slip too far into subspace, always wanting to seem in command, even when subbing for you. You wonder if that’s changed. You certainly don’t remember him ever blatantly asking outright to have something done to him before.

Memories flash across your mind eye, his back covered in your scratch marks, the way he moaned brokenly when you pulled on his hair, the way he came when you pressed your fingers to his throat. But he never asked for any of it - you had to ask if it was okay to do to him, and he always brushed off any of your attempts of aftercare.

You swallow again, feeling vaguely sick. Things had been broken in your relationship long before he called it off, but neither one of you wanted to admit it. Your heart hurts for multiple reasons, but when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye you know the biggest one: ‘I hope I didn’t hurt him by not talking about it’.

But he didn’t talk about it either. Did he care about whether it hurt you?

“Is that okay?” He’s been talking to you, and you startle out of your thoughts - a half-formed little smirk dances at the corners of his lips, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. He knows you well enough to know when you’ve been drifting. “I said, I’ll stay here if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine - sorry, was just.. thinking.” It doesn’t really surprise you that he’s decided to stay - he’s confident to a fault, it’s true, but there’s a slash of shyness that strikes through his character, and you know that if he left he might not be able to come back. The thunder rumbles in agreement.

You half-watch him as you set up your computer on the coffee table – he’s looking around your apartment with thinly veiled curiosity, though you don’t really blame him. It didn’t really look anything like when you two had been together, and yet.. you felt it still had his subtle touch all over it. You wondered if he noticed that.

The class is boring, as it usually is – you’re watching the screen but your mind is far away, listening to your admittedly enthusiastic professor talk about the hyoid bone and articulations while your focus is on Changkyun. He lingers around you with a nervous type of energy, clearly not feeling allowed to roam around your apartment (it’d be kind of weird if he had, you admit) but also not feeling comfortable enough to sit on the couch next to you, even if he would have been off camera.

It’s almost like it was before, and you half expect him to sit down next to you anyway and throw his arm around your shoulder, always just off-screen, sitting next to you during your classes while he amused himself with his phone, just so he could be near you.

You’re just about to be able to feel the phantom warmth from the memory of his arm around you before he coughs and you startle, eyes snapping to him – he looks back wide-eyed, not understanding your surprise but murmuring a quiet apology anyway.

God you were so fucked.

.｡..｡.

“So?” The instant your class had ended you’d snapped the computer lid shut – you hadn’t retained a single thing said, what a complete waste. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d skipped and focused on Changkyun in the end after all. “Did you decide on what you wanted?”

You’re so flippant with your question that he feels like he’s being asked about what it is he wants to eat instead of how he wants to have sex – the entire hour of your class he’d been nervous, and those nerves had by now tightened into a very tight ball at the base of his spine that periodically sent white-hot flames licking along his muscles.

“I –“ His mouth is so fucking dry and he hates how small he suddenly feels – he’d never felt like this around you before, but usually it had always been you asking if you could do something to him, hadn’t it? “I said it earlier. I want you to fuck me.”

He watches your reaction with pin-point precision – the small widening of your eyes, the way your gaze darts to the side like it always did when you were thinking something over – it wasn’t like you hadn’t ever fucked him before, but he’d never asked you to do so, and you clearly hadn’t expected him to come out with something like that so easily.

Why the hell could he say something like that and not something as simple as ‘I love you’, or even ‘I miss you’?

“Okay.” You’ve wrested your thoughts back under control – it wasn’t fair of him to say something like that, looking so utterly and effortlessly attractive. “As long as there’s no kissing I’ll fuck you any way you like, Changkyun.” You were over him and he was over you and this was just sex.

If you said it enough you’d start to believe it, right?

Changkyun just nods at your terms, looking a bit despondent – you can’t help the strong surge within you that says to fix it, fix whatever upset him, but you have a feeling you knew already. He’d always been a bit fixated on kissing you, but you knew if you let him this time then it’d all be over.

“I don’t remember you ever falling this far into the ‘submissive’ side of things, Changkyun.” You’re desperate to regain the upper-hand, and he flushes a bright red at your comment, grumbling out a weak “shut up” that has you smiling.

“Have you been experimenting?” You’re still teasing him but he bristles at the insinuation that he would have been with anyone after you – you had no reason to think he hadn’t been but the mere thought of being with anyone other than you makes him ache deep in his chest, in his soul.

“No.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but it wavers still and he digs his fingernails into the soft leather of his belt, pausing. “I haven’t been with anyone since –“

He can’t say it, but you understand regardless – he doesn’t like how surprised you look, ducks his head and lets his hair obscure his view of you as he refocuses on undressing. It’s not that you’d been wrong to be surprised with his decision for today, either – before you, he’d never really definitively considered himself particularly dominant or submissive, happy with having the choice to be either at the drop of a hat. That changed with you though – you had been so uncompromising with your power, beautiful and self-assured, and he knew without a doubt that if you so much as even hinted at it he would be on his knees for you every single time.

Not that he had ever told you that, of course. He’d never told you anything he really wanted to. Even now, with you looking at him softly, trying to see if you’d crossed a line with your little teasing jabs, the words ‘I’m happy being this for you’ get stuck in his throat and all he can do is tug his shirt over his head wordlessly, fingernails clicking nervously at his belt as he undoes it. You pretend not to notice the way your heartrate accelerates as he reveals his body bit by bit to you, slender waist but powerful figure, beautiful skin, beautiful body.

“Well, then – lie down.” You gesture to your bed and he swallows down the stupid fucking butterflies he gets at the gesture – he’d been on your bed before, he’d been in this position before, there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

And still, despite his nerves, a pleasurable chill runs down his spine when he hears the cap of the lube being clicked open, and he forces himself to exhale as he shifts and tries to get comfortable on a comforter he no longer recognized, in a room that had no trace of him in it anymore.

You look at him with a level gaze, always so calm, and he ignores the erratic beating of his heart and nods his assent for you to begin, immediately shifting his gaze to your ceiling.

Why the fuck was he so goddamn nervous?

(He tries to forget the way he instantly whimpers when he feels your finger, slick with lube, probing at his rim, tries to forget the way he gets hard in under a minute from your heavy gaze and one finger alone, and god he aches for more, aches for anything you’re willing to give him.)

“You’re taking this awfully well.” The teasing comes out unbidden, spilling past your lips before you can even think about the words – but it’s true, for someone who had claimed to not have been with anyone since you he was taking your fingers incredibly well.

“My own hands – fuck – exist..” His snarky response turns into a shaky moan halfway through when you decide to carefully – but quickly – add a third finger. There’s something erotic (and interesting) to you about that, thinking over the fact that Changkyun had been finger-fucking himself ever since you two broke up.

“You look good like this.” It’s an attempt to make up for the previous teasing but all it does is cause him to groan and throw a forearm over his eyes, legs spreading wider when you hit that spot deep inside.

“Fuck, jesus – fuck..” It’s a broken sob instead of an actual sentence (though he manages to stick with English), a familiar feeling already building deep in his gut. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s been so long since he’d been fingered by someone else or if it’s because it’s you doing it, complimenting him while doing so, or if it’s a combination of everything, but his back arches against his will and he knows he is seconds away from coming undone already.

“Stop – stop, oh my god –“ At his desperate plea you stop moving completely and he wants to sob as the pleasurable feeling slowly ebbs away, an almost painful drag as it settles back into a dull burn. He’s gasping, tiny whimpering sounds as he sucks breath back into his lungs, chest heaving – his eyes are wide, fingers curling into your comforter. He looks frantic, frightened almost, and even if it wasn’t your responsibility you knew you’d be desperate to fix it.

“Changkyun, ar –“

“I’m fine.” He bites it out angrily, doing his absolute best to look like he had been anything but moments away from an orgasm five minutes into.. whatever this was. He’s shutting you out again, before anything even begins, and it fills you with such an irrational anger that you have to suck in a breath of your own to keep from lashing out, taking gentle care to extract your fingers even as your blood boils.

“Stop fucking lying to me.” You can’t keep the ice from your words, even if you manage to control the volume and pitch – his dark eyes snap from the ceiling to you in surprise. There’s a panicked feeling bubbling up in his chest, because he really doesn’t know if he can handle you calling him on his true feelings for you right now, doesn’t want to have to admit he still loves you while he’s naked and so vulnerable.

“I’m not –“

“Stop it.” His mouth shuts with an audible click of his teeth, so sudden is your cut-in. Your brow has smoothed out, no longer angry, instead immensely sad, and he’s not sure this is any better. “You said you wanted to do this because you didn’t have to worry about my opinion. So why are you still doing it?”

He can’t breathe, and the lube is drying sticky on your fingers, and for a moment neither of you are aware of the position you’re in, the way the thunder has become your constant background music – he’s looking at you unblinkingly and you’re staring back, and it’s too intimate, too much, but neither of you look away.

“Please stop.” He speaks and it’s barely a whisper, the sound of someone’s heart breaking louder than his voice. You don’t know what to say but open your mouth anyway.

Lightning flickers outside your bedroom window and then your apartment is shaking from the resounding thunder, the power flickering and then plunging the two of you into darkness. Suddenly you can breathe again, and you’re quickly trying to slide out from in between his legs because he said ‘stop’ and he was fully coherent even if he hadn’t said ‘red’, because he said ‘stop’ and you have only ever wanted him comfortable.

“Wait –“ He is frantic, grabs your forearm with frigid fingers as he leans half off your bed to catch you from retreating too far. It’s hard to see him but you get flashes from the light outside your window, electricity reflecting off his dark eyes in starbursts.

“You said to stop.” Your voice is broken and you feel so powerless, sick inside because while you rarely manage to ruin a scene it still tears you up inside each time, and Changkyun wouldn’t let you try to fix it with aftercare and you don’t know what to do anymore.

“I meant –“ Stop talking, stop laying me bare and open, just fuck me and make me forget everything, stop being you so I can stop loving you. “I just want to be ruined.” He says instead, and his voice is so low but so weak that you barely recognize it.

“I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” Your clean fingers curl around his and gently pry them from your arm – but then you keep holding them, and you want to let go but you can’t remember how to tell your body to do so. “Will you let me, Changkyun?”

The air is still and silent aside from the rain slashing angrily at your windows – there is no thunder, your own heartbeat loud enough (or maybe it was his, you didn’t know anymore).

“I want to.” He answers instead, voice quiet but a bit stronger than before, and your eyes have adjusted so you can see the features of his face vaguely now, follow the line of his brow to his cheek to his lips, and you’re leaning in and you hate yourself because you had promised this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.

“Let me wreck you then, baby.” And oh that nickname was a mistake but you’d said it anyway, a ghost of a whisper against his lips, a proposition and a plea all in one. He moves forward the last centimeter and connects your lips as an answer, a sound that is almost one of pure relief being ripped from his throat.

It’s like he’s been waiting years for this moment, doesn’t even fight as you grip his jaw lightly and angle him into a better position so you can scope out the inside of his mouth with your tongue, relearning things you had known long ago but had thought were forgotten.

There’s a flighty feeling in his chest, one of nervousness and expectation – he doesn’t want to give you control so easily, he doesn’t want to be opened and laid bare in front of you, he doesn’t want you to see something you dislike in him – but more than anything he wants you to touch him and keep kissing him and god he fucking misses you, has missed this. He’d asked you to ruin him, you’d asked to wreck him, but he knew he was already both ruined and wrecked just from being near you again, from having your lips on his own.

You try to slide your hands back down his body but he stops you, continues to kiss you as his fingers curl around your own, and the act is so intimate it almost feels wrong.

“Just – hurry up, I’m ready enough.” He manages to say scattered between four different kisses, never apart from your lips for more than a few seconds. You hate yourself for not even trying to stop him, leaning into them each time.

“You can stretch yourself some more while I get ready.” You have to pull away from him completely to say this, and he follows you like you’ve got some magnetic pull on him before you’re off of the bed and the connection is broken.

Even with your eyes adjusted it’s hard to properly get the harness on, fingers fumbling with the straps but managing in the end. You can hear him breathing harsh, anticipating – you can tell from the sounds alone that he hadn’t taken your advice, but you’re not surprised. Always your little pain slut, even if he had never wanted to admit it.

When you approach him again his eyes are wide, brow furrowing as he notices you’re still fully clothed – he keeps his mouth shut tight though, gaze darting in the dark. The storm still rages on outside but neither of you even notice it anymore.

Your fingers on the inside of his thigh startle him – he jumps, trying to close his legs, but you force them back open again. Something about that simple action makes a moan trickle into his throat, but he swallows it back down stubbornly.

He can’t conceal the next sound he makes when you press the blunt tip of the strap-on to his opening, though, a rasping whine as you push in slowly, so fucking slowly. Even with all the lube he knew you’d slathered over the toy it still takes a bit of work to get it into him, and every slight stretch makes him grit his teeth in a masochistic type of pleasure, feeling so full by the end that it makes him so painfully hard his head spins. It hadn’t taken long to get him worked back up, but he’s not really thinking about that right now.

All he knows is that he wants to be close to you, wants to feel good, wants to make you happy – he wants so much that he doesn’t think he can even begin to put any of it into words. It always ends up at ‘I love you’ and he already knew that was a phrase that lodged in his throat like knives.

“Please.” This he can say – you don’t know what he’s begging for but he’s begging all the same, the word ‘please’ becoming a chant that slowly shifts back into his native tongue when teeth mark his throat, fingertips pressing insistently into his hips as you fuck him hard and rough. He hopes, distantly, that it bruises. He wants to be able to remember this for as long as possible.

If he was present enough in the moment he might have been embarrassed by the sounds he was making – his naturally deep voice has transformed completely into high breathy whines, all trace of his ‘savage rapper’ persona gone when you bite his lip hard enough it throbs before you’re flipping him, pushing his shoulders down into the bed with one hand.

The feeling of your palm, small but blindingly warm on his back, makes him weak enough that his thoughts stutter, head a chaotic mess of fractured thoughts and sensations. His eyes are open but unfocused – it’s dark in the room anyway, but he’s unaware of it, cognizant only of your presence and his, that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest competing with the white-hot fire you were stoking lower in his pelvis.

You want to cry at how beautiful and perfect he is for you, the way he arches his back instinctively, presents himself as your own personal plaything – but he wasn’t yours, you had to remember that, remind yourself over and over that this was just sex. (If you repeated it enough it started to stop sounding like real words, and that was equally as dangerous as forgetting them in the first place.)

The head of the strap-on teases his entrance and he groans, clenching his fists into your pillow – you’d taken it out when you’d flipped him and he was fighting against every fucking urge and want and need his body was screaming at him to just take the plunge and force himself backwards. (But another part of his brain is telling him to wait, to make you happy, to draw this out as long as fucking possible because he has no idea if he’ll ever get to experience it again.)

“Can you tell me what you want?” Your voice is soft as silk, quiet, and a fluttery feeling rises up in his stomach at the sound, at how you’ve modified an order to be a request. He doesn’t know how he feels at the realization that you were taking it ‘easier’ on him verbally, that you had at some point come to understand he was having trouble letting go completely.

“I –“ He tries, he really fucking does, but like always the words get stuck in his throat. He just can’t seem to bring himself to admit what he really wants out loud and it is destroying him. One of your hands smooths down his side, lingering at his hip, and he feels like you’ve left behind a line of pure fire on his skin, almost burning away the shame and hatred he feels at himself for his fucking inability to be vulnerable, his cowardice.

“Just fuck me.” He says instead, defeat coating his words – and he can feel you hesitating, because it was obvious he’d meant to say something else and hadn’t.

He opens his mouth to say something, though he has no idea what, at the same instant you decide to slide the strap-on back into him. Whatever he’d been planning to do is gone from his mind instantly, his world reduced to just the dull burn, the frustratingly slow drag against his innermost walls, the way you manage to somehow brush up against the spot that has him trembling and dropping to his forearms. He curses in a strange mixture of Korean and English and you laugh softly at the sound, even as you slide out and thrust back into him hard enough that he jolts forward.

He feels, in a sense, like he is being broken in all the best ways – all he can focus on is you, all he can feel is the way you’re fucking him, grabbing at his hips. His breath is caught in his throat and he just knows he is going to ache later, bone-deep and satisfying.

But it’s not enough, never enough – you’re not asking to do more to him like you had in the past and he can’t manage to tell you what he desires most (though, at this point, he’s not totally sure he could say anything coherent anyway). He reaches back with one hand, groping – your fingers wrap around his and he drags them up to his hair, a wordless plea. He hopes you understand what he’s asking for.

A broken moan is ripped from his throat when you fist your hand in dark strands and pull backward, forcing him into an arch – his mind has blanked into varying shades of white, electricity on his skin and molten lava running through his veins, your heat against his back overwhelming.

You know it’s a bad idea before you do it, but you lean down and press you lips to his shoulder anyway, teeth scraping over feverish skin – the hoarse whine he gives at the feeling makes wetness pool between your legs, uncomfortable and wrong because this was just sex, this was just supposed to be for him.

The urge to mark him up is so strong it’s almost distracting – your hips falter in the bruising pace you’d set as your mind drifts, Changkyun groaning at the sudden shift in speed.

“Let me –“ He’s gasping, feels like he’s been running a fucking marathon or drowning (and oh, he has, drowning in you, in his expansive and terrifying feelings for you) but he knows your hips have to be sore by now and to be completely honest he is just downright greedy, wanting to feel you deep inside, wanting to –

He just wants so much. He reaches back to press at you gently and you let him move you instantly, trying to figure out what had bothered him – as soon as you realize he just wants a change in position you’re grabbing at his hips again, tugging him over your legs. His cock drags against the fabric of your shorts and he nearly sucks in a breath, trying to focus on lining himself up instead of the way it throbbed (or the way you were looking at him, hair splayed out on the pillow and yet so in command still).

He thinks he should feel more in control like this, on top of you, hands braced on your shoulders – but he doesn’t, not at all, and he knows instantly that he isn’t when you snap your hips up to meet his and he falls onto you, moan vibrating against the skin of your neck. He can feel your fingers in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, can feel the infuriatingly teasing way his cock is rubbing up against your fucking shirt you never took off. It’s gone untouched for so long that it’s absolutely aching by now and he thinks he might actually be able to orgasm like this – but he doesn’t want to, not yet, even with how border-line painful its become. He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to have to go back to a world without you in it.

His hips stutter on top of yours when you tug on his hair again, grinding hard against the strap-on, and you lift his face high enough you can press your lips to his, all hot breath and panted moans. He tastes of honey and heartbreak and you want nothing more than to make him cum and fall apart, trembling, on top of you.

“Am I ruining you properly, baby?” Your voice is dark red and sinful, and he trembles at the sound and tries to seek out your lips again, a whine lodged in his throat when you tighten your grip on his hair and keep him in place, rolling your hips languidly up to meet his frantic movements. “Tell me.”

“Fuck..” He responds instead, deep and rough in his chest – it cracks into a high moan when you punish him with a harsh upwards thrust, fingers curling into your shoulders. Your soft laugh, amused or delighted he’s not sure, makes a feeling like electric butterflies break out across his skin. If you had let go of his hair he’d have buried his face into your neck again to hide his expression – but you haven’t, and he knows you can see everything, every part of him, every expression he makes.

He thinks he must look stupid, embarrassing – but all you see is pure beauty. His brow has furrowed and sweat drips down to his collarbones, bruised lips parted slightly, glistening from where you’d kissed him earlier. Hazy eyes try to look anywhere but your face failingly, allowing you to see the foggy galaxy residing in their darkness. You’re not sure if what you’re seeing is his pupil or iris, but you find it gorgeous all the same, intoxicating.

“I’m going to make you cum, Kyunnie.” He shakes at your dangerous words, your knife-sharp gaze. You’re aware he never responded to your last question. “You’ll fall apart up there, ruined, just like you asked to be.”

Your words wrap around him, coiling tightly like chains – he feels caught, trapped, and he wants nothing more than for you to make good on your word, even if it sends a sharp trill of fear through his stomach.

The grip on his hair lets go suddenly and he sags forward, as if your pull on him had been all that was keeping him upright. He’s left a mess of pre-cum on your shirt, flushes a dark red when you drag your fingers through it thoughtfully.

“Messy boy..” You muse, heat spreading through you when you see the way his cock jerks at those two simple words, so red and aching, so fucking beautiful and desperate.

Fuck, you wanted so badly for him to be yours.

One of his hands flies to your wrist when you finally wrap your fingers around him – more of his weight is on you now but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, not with the way he’s breathing hot and wet against your neck, the way he doesn’t stop you when you move your hand, just clings to your arm desperately like he’s not totally sure he wants to be touched yet.

A choked sound leaves his mouth, lips bitten bloody, and you turn your head so you can breathe against his ear, let him press his face further into your neck. “Such a little whore..” You murmur, and he sobs open-mouthed against your skin and thrusts weakly into your fingers and then back onto the strap-on, unsure of which feeling he wanted more of. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

A part of him feels like he’s dying, unsure if he was really okay with being so vulnerable with you – but another part of him, the larger part, feels like he is fucking soaring, like this is all he had ever wanted and more. There are flames licking at his body, coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last like this.

“You can fall, Changkyun.” Your voice is in his ear, like the sound of silk sliding over skin, fingernails tracing lightly along the back of his neck. He hates the way he reacts so viscerally to it, climax surging forward at the sound, at the way your fingers slide wetly over the head of his cock pinned in between the two of you. “It’ll be okay, you can fall to pieces. I’ll catch you.”

He orgasms with a wail that makes him flush a dark red, and he would have been mortified at the sound if every nerve ending in his body wasn’t currently sparking, his muscles spasming as he tries to keep thrusting into your fist even as the lightning bolt sensations turn from overwhelming to painful. He doesn’t even realize tears have slipped from his eyes until he feels your lips kissing them away, and he is hit with such a wave of emotion that he can’t breathe all over again (and it is just pure emotion, he couldn’t identify a single one of them if he tried).

After you slowly pulled out and settle him on the blankets he watches, distractedly, as you slide the straps down over your hips, leaving it on the floor to be dealt with later. Impulsively he reaches out to catch the edge of your shorts when you try to head to the bathroom, tongue sliding over chapped lips when you turn that powerful, beautiful gaze of yours on him. One of your eyebrows has raised, appraising him as he slowly tugs you back to the bed until you’re resting on your knees next to his waist. Sweat is drying sticky on his skin and he’s trying not to feel like he’d done something wrong, reacted in some undesirable way that you’d remember and relate to him for the rest of your life - but above all that, he wants to taste you. It’s the only consistent thought running through his mind, more prevalent than the lingering unease at having bared so much of himself to you.

“Please.” Again, it’s all he can say, eyes so dark and wide, pleading – his fingertips rest lightly on your hip, over the waistband of your shorts, lips parted ever so slightly. It’s so obvious what he’s asking for, and you want to say no. You’re pretty sure you need to say no. “Babe –“

You surge forward to cut him off mid-sentence with a brutal kiss and he gasps – you didn’t want to hear that, and you can tell from the way he’s frozen that he hadn’t meant to say it, even as his body returns the kiss on pure muscle memory alone. This entire experience had been a mess, a mistake, and yet –

“Okay.” It’s more a breath against his mouth than a word, but the way he smiles at your soft agreeance makes your heart hurt. You were in so deep, had fallen so far – how foolish of you to think you had been over him. How fucking stupid you’d been.

He wastes no time, pulling your shorts and underwear down like he’d done it hundreds of times before – because he had, you note dully – fingers wrapping around your thighs. When you sink down onto his face a tension drains out of his body that neither of you had even noticed was still lingering.

All he can smell is you, all he can taste is you – you surround him and this is all he’s ever fucking wanted, to be possessed by you, to be as close to you as possible. He’s not even totally sure what he’s doing aside from the fact that he’s putting his absolute all into it – he’s just trying to taste every inch of you he can, tongue delving as deep as possible before switching to suck on your clit. There’s no rhyme or reason to his method and it has you letting out a quiet sigh that borders on a gasp. He tries to memorize the sound instantly – any sound he could get out of you was a treasure in itself, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear them again after this.

There is no particular build-up to your orgasm – it’s at first lingering briefly bone-deep and then suddenly it is upon you in streaks of lightning, hips grinding against his face but mouth stubbornly shut. You can’t let this be any more intimate than it already was. (And yet you instinctively reach down and lace your fingers with his, and his thumb smooths across the back of your hand as he continues to mouth at your cunt, drink up your fluids. You are so utterly and completely stupid, your heart in your throat.)

There is a moment you want to carve out afterwards, a small bubble in time where the two of you could just bask in the afterglow and pretend like nothing had changed from a year ago – but you can’t let yourself do that, pushing yourself up off the bed even as every fiber of you begs to remain beside him for a moment longer. His fingers remain holding yours a moment too long before dropping to your bedspread, defeated.

Your heart suddenly felt like it was three sizes too big for your body, filled to the brim with love for a man you knew you’d have no second chance with, and you clench your teeth tightly to keep it from oozing out between your teeth like bittersweet sugar.

He’s still panting when you return with a damp cloth, reaches for it as if he really expects you to make him clean himself off. You scoff and catch his hand with your own, setting it back down on the bed as you begin to clean off his face first. Whether you wanted to avoid intimacy or not there were things you simply refused to throw to the wayside just because you wanted to remain distant, and one of those was taking care of him after sex. (He’s more receptive this time than he used to be, not fighting you and claiming he was fine, letting you dote on him with a sort of hesitant and soft acceptance. It makes your heart hurt all the more, the pure ache and want almost unbearable.)

“You’re always so messy..” It’s meant to be a light comment but the two of you accidentally lock gazes when you say it, your hand stalling in its motions. He looks like he wants to say something, lips parting – your breath catches in your throat, waiting, but he ultimately just shuts his mouth, gaze darting away from you. Your breath leaves you in a small burst. “Just relax, Kyun, I’ve got you.”

It’s the typical words you say to a sub after an intense session (with an accidental affectionate nickname that you bite the inside of your cheek for), but you mean them, and you don’t want to, but you do, irrevocably. You know that if he needed it, if he asked for it, you would let him stay here for as long as he wanted. You knew that tonight you wouldn’t be asking him to leave. And for that you are so, so incredibly fucked. (You wonder if he is too, judging from the way his eyes widen at the nickname and his breath stutters – but you crush that thought instantly, don’t dare to get your hopes up.)

He’s surprised that you take the time to clean him up, bring him water and a change in clothes – they aren’t his but they’re clearly a man’s, and he wonders if they belong to Hoseok considering the size. Something deep in his chest hurts at that thought. He’s even more surprised when you pull on an oversized shirt instead of telling him to leave – he faintly realizes that he recognizes it, a soft violet that hung down to your lower thighs and always felt soft against his chest when he’d hold you – crawling into bed next to him after changing into it, though he’s automatically moving to accommodate you, perfectly content to throw the thick comforter to the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Is.. this okay?” Your voice is quiet, so tentative and soft and hesitant, and all he wants to do is tell you yes, this was more than okay, this was everything he had ever wanted.

“Yeah – I mean, it’s your bed, so..” He hates himself for the way he responds, swallowing hard but taking the initiative to slide his arm over your side, nose in your hair. He can feel the way you tense, but you don’t say anything against it or try to pull away. “And.. this? It’s okay too?”

“…it’s okay.” It’s a small response but he inhales deeply in relief, drinking in your scent half by accident. It’s the same smell he had missed for so long, the one he’d dream of and wake up thinking there was a chance it still lingered on his pillow, heart dropping through his ribcage when he realized it wasn’t.

Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach you fall asleep fast, mentally drained and physically exhausted - his fingers trace the line of your shoulder, head pillowed on his own arm as he watches you sleep. There is a purely warm and happy feeling trying to spread through his body, but it doesn’t make it very far before the remembrance that you still weren’t his and he still wasn’t yours freezes it in its tracks. He feels like his heart is melting, dripping through his ribs and oozing into his stomach and making him sick.

He’s shaking your shoulder before he even knows what he’s doing, and you’re half-awake and groggy but so fucking beautiful and every single one of his nerves feels like a live wire underneath his skin, buzzing and loud and painful, and he is so scared, but he is also tired. Tired of hurting, tired of missing you, tired of the way Kihyun will be talking about you but stop awkwardly when he notices Changkyun listening, tired of the way he smiles so big his cheeks hurt when the two of you talk on the phone, tired of how he swallows down the words “love you” every time you hang up – and he’s fucking tired of being scared most of all.

“Changkyun, you better be fucking dying..” You’re angry, always angry when woken suddenly, and he just wants to kiss you.

‘I love you, I’m stupid, I was scared, I always loved you, I never fucking stopped, did you know I would dream of you? Did you know that you were the only thing on my mind? On plane rides, in the vans, backstage, all I could think about was you and my hyungs all told me I was just hurting myself and I knew that but I still hoped that somehow you and I would end up happy together.’

Like always he can’t say any of it. It sits on his tongue and he just utters a quiet ‘fuck’ instead, throat tight. Why couldn’t he fucking do this?

“..Kyun?” He’s sitting up now, and you are too, side by side – your expression is open, sleepy but worried, and he has a sudden urge to take your face in his hands and kiss your eyelids.

The scariest part of telling the truth, of laying yourself bare for someone, of letting them in, was that they could take one look and never come back. And maybe he’s not afraid of loving you – maybe he’s never been afraid of loving you, with your eyes that hold the only stars he ever wants to look at. Maybe he’s been afraid of not being loved back.

He swallows hard, reaches for every bit of confidence and courage performing has ever given him, forces himself to be brave the way the industry has taught him to be. Moonlight filters in through the window and he thinks your eyes might actually house the milky way in them somehow.

“I love you, still – always. I never stopped.”

He can’t breathe because you’re just looking at him, stunned and disbelieving, tears collecting on your lash-line but not falling, never falling, and he feels like the fucking worst for telling you now, this way, this bluntly – but he knows if he didn’t say anything he would have never said anything, and he’s not sure he could have survived that, so the words had fallen from his lips hard and heavy and desperate to be said. (And a part of him is still surprised he even managed to say them at all, rushed and frantic as they were.)

“I –“ Your brow is furrowed and your voice is thick, but when he reaches to brush your tears away you let him and his lungs start to tentatively fill themselves with oxygen again.

When you smile it is watery and weak but it is there, and he feels like sunlight has reappeared in the lining of his skin, bright and blinding and warm.

Cold Brew Tears

brief allusion to depression

You were dead on your feet as you stumbled into the coffee shop, all the side work you had offered to complete finally taking its toll on you. Partially stumbling your way towards the counter, you knew that the other patrons in the shop were staring, but you just wanted your coffee and so you reached the counter and placed the exact change down.

“You look like you were hit by a bus, Y/N.” You glared at the orange haired barista who was looking at you with wide eyes,

“Bite me Hoseok.” He blinked at you before breaking out into a large smile and you, even though you loved him dearly, wished he would just make your coffee instead of talking to you.

“One medium cold brew with two pumps of vanilla, coming right up!” You attempted a smile that you knew came out as more of a grimace before shuffling over to the seat you normally sat at and practically falling into the cushioned chair. You sighed, pulling your hair from where it was pulled up on your head, and glanced out the window. 

It was a long day and you wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for years. You had picked up the extra work for two of your group projects as the only member contributing and were forced to pick up another shift at your job in order to pay for your ill-supported degree in writing. It was tiring.

At some point Hoseok had brought over your coffee and you were grateful that the man knew not to strike up a conversation today; it was one of the perks of knowing each other for so long. You remembered meeting Hoseok in high school after things seemed to go to absolute shit: a kind face in a crowd of disgust. He’d been the only person you’d kept around after those four years before college, the only positive that you’d had in your life for a long time, and through him you met some of your closest friends.

You smiled at the thought before remembering why you had brought your bag with you and sighing heavily. However, you didn’t want to put it off any longer, as you were sure that it would end with you calling Hoseok at 3 am in tears, and set up your laptop so that you could work on the most pressing thing: your draft due in two days. Now, you didn’t hate writing, far from it, but you absolutely hated having to write for a grade. That being said, once you started writing it was hard for you to stop, despite the reason for beginning in the first place. 

You hadn’t really been paying attention to the world around you, fully engrossed in the task at hand, and so you hadn’t heard the light footfalls that approached your table before stopping abruptly; you wished you hadn’t shown up to get coffee today.

“Y/N?” You hummed in response, glancing at the person’s legs, but not looking at them directly, “Y/L/N Y/F/N?” Your eyebrow twitched and you huffed quietly, 

“I love you Hoseok, but if you came over here to tell me about the new paint you want to get I’ll fucking l-” Your voice died out as your eyes made their way to the face of the person you thought was Hoseok, blinking at the man in front of you.

You hadn’t seen Jeon Jungkook in years, hadn’t thought about him since he took out your heart and spat on it, and definitely hadn’t thought you’d run into him here when you looked like absolute shit. He hadn’t changed. Sure, he had gotten taller and his face seemed to have matured, but you could still make out the wide eyes and sloped nose that had ruined you. You blinked, noticing that he had said something and was staring at you with shock, and realized that a tear had made its way down your cheek. You wiped it away hastily and cleared your throat, turning back towards your computer,

“I’m busy.” You could see the way he frowned slightly in the corner of your vision,

“You started crying?” His words came out as a question, voice layered with some sort of concern, and you couldn’t help but laugh suddenly at this fact. You turned your head to look up at him and smiled at him, eyebrow raised, 

“You thought I’d be excited to see you Jungkook?” He opened his mouth, no words coming out, and glanced at the coffee cup clutched in his hands, 

“I didn’t think you’d cry.” His voice was quiet and you narrowed your eyes at him, suddenly thankful for the fact that the extensive time you had been spending with Yoongi had forced you to adopt some of his mannerisms, 

“You ruined my life. How the hell did you think I’d react, sport.” You added the name on the end with a clipped tone, “I came to you with a note, the love confession of a naive and stupid girl, that you decided to tear into pieces in front of everyone. You’d never date someone like me,” your tone grew more short and venomous as you spoke, “high school Jungkook thought I was disgusting, yelled it to anyone who would hear.” You were silent for a moment, arms crossed, “I spent so long trying to figure out what I did to make you hate me and it hurt; if Hoseok hadn’t appeared I honestly don’t know where I’d be, if I’d even be sitting here.” You scoffed, staring at the boy who was clenching his jaw with his eyes staring at the ground, “So yeah, I’d say I’m not fucking thrilled to see you Jeon Jungkook.”

“I was in love with you, Y/N. I still am.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, eyes still fixated on the ground, “I was just stupid and immature. I’m sorry.” You stared at him, silent until he looked at you, 

“You don’t act like that to someone you love.” You felt tears, “You don’t make the person you love feel like that, live with burden for years.” You hissed out the last word, wiping your eyes and letting out a watery laugh, “I’m so fucking dumb, god.” 

“Hey, Y/N, are you ready to go? I told Yoongi and Jimin we’d meet up with them for dinner. Jimin was pretty adamant on the whole ‘double date’ thing.” You smiled at your best friend’s voice, looking over to him and nodding while you shut your laptop and put it away,

“Yeah, Hobi, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” 

“You have a boyfriend?” You glanced at Jungkook as you stood, bag on your shoulder, before looking back over at your savior with a smile, 

“I grew up, moved on. You should too.” You didn’t look at Jungkook as you linked arms with Hoseok and headed outside, feeling his eyes trained on your backs as you walked,

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” You laughed at the man beside you, rolling your eyes, 

“I know I’m attractive, but unfortunately it doesn’t.” The door shut behind you as you walked down the sidewalk, arms still linked with the brightest presence in your life, and headed towards the apartment that belonged to Yoongi and Jimin; you were okay, things would be okay.

cash machine || kth

pairing: kim taehyung/f!reader genre: fluff & humor. crack actually. crack cocaine. word count: 11.1k warnings: strong language, drinking, an unwated kiss (not from tae), unsanitary jokes (i’m immature), implied sex, vomiting extra: (fr)enemies to lovers, road trip au, rich kids au but it’s barely there also they’re on summer vacation, also this story takes place in the usa JUST to drag the trip out tbh

summary: Jungkook and Seokjin get a little problematic, you have anger issues and Taehyung is under the impression that he killed a man. Also, did you mention that you’re on your way to your unfunny cousin’s wedding? Go on a road trip from Missouri to Las Vegas and you’ll be in for a hilarious yet scary experience! 

a/n: hi! i’m just starting this account out, so reblogging would mean a lot to me. i’m a novice to writing, so criticism is welcome as long as you’re not rude about it. have fun reading (i hope)! i also have a jungkook fic planned next (:

song

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Jungkook has that look in his face, the one he makes where the person sitting opposite of him is about as depraved as he is. He’s given it to you while you were explaining to him how to scam desperate men under the preface of a faux premium Snapchat and he’s given it to Jimin when they were finishing their high school careers and decided to release grasshoppers in the principal’s office. 

However, if there’s one person that’s about as fucked up in the head as he is, it’s Seokjin. The man also suffers from SMSTS as well (Serious Misconception of Sexual Tension Syndrome, and yes, that’s quite a lot of s’s), which doesn’t hurt given the current affairs. 

While Jungkook is aware that Jimin and Hoseok are always up for a bit of mischief, he has ruled them both out as incompetents and moved on to the real deal. Jimin has these rare moments of sanity and Hoseok, as your most loyal little bitchboy, would probably tattle the situation with made-up details to you before the plan is even set in action. 

So, Seokjin it is. 

The story begins in a faraway land before Jungkook knew about the tragic facets of your family’s relationships. Though his friend group is on good terms with your siblings and your other close relatives are aware of their existence and somehow only have good things to say about them, he never thought they’d be invited to your cousin’s wedding. To be fair, you had to do some serious persuasion for your family to allow you to invite six more people to somebody else’s wedding so there’s that factor contributing, but still, the offer is out of the blue.

Somewhere along the way, you went on a tangent about how much you hate your cousin and how your aunt doesn’t have eyebrows and how bothersome it is to look at her face. Your horror stories were mostly you just being your usual dramatic self, but they also revealed that the [L/n]s aren’t what they appear to be. 

You begged and begged for them to accept the invitations, and though Namjoon and Yoongi, unfortunately, couldn’t make it, the others agreed. 

Then arose the problem of the sixth spot that couldn’t be filled. You would’ve just let it be but your parents insisted that if you’re going to ask for something, you should fulfill it until the end. It was Namjoon you’d asked to come first, but he was busy with visiting family back in Seoul, and Yoongi then declared that he didn’t feel like humoring you this once. And that was the exact moment Jungkook decided to strike.

“You want to play matchmaker?” Jin asks. And though he looks almost skeptical, his tone is definitely an excited one. “With [Y/n] and Tae, of all people?” 

“Well yes, think about it logically,” he explains as he is about to say something completely illogical. “She has that sixth spot to fill, she has no other friends and they’re perfect for each other. All the other shit we’re gonna pull is just for fun, though.”  

Jin laughs an evil laugh, always one to be up for evil schemes. Just another evil day in the evil life of Kim Seokjin. “Well, [Y/n] is Tae’s perfect mean girl. And that girl needs either therapy or to get laid, but like, same.” 

“See? You get me.”

“To be fair, I think that goes for all of us. No offense.” 

“None taken,” Jungkook agrees. “Anyways, I was thinking of a… road trip.” 

“Well you didn’t have to be so dramatic about it, this isn’t The Godfather. Though I do feel like I’ve definitely got a bit of Michael Corleone in me.” 

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly at the other fiend’s remark. “You can pray to god all you want. Here in these streets, the only thing we believe in is El Chapo.” 

“I— Okay…” 

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[11:05] LeBruh James: wtf is wrong with u

[11:05] LeBruh James: get help seriously

[11:06] jk the slump god: all i said was that u should invite taehyung as the 6th person to ur cussin’s wedding 

[11:06] jk the slump god: overreacting arent we 

[11:10] LeBruh James: what the hell is a cussin bitch im gonna kill u

[11:13] jk the slump god: not like u have anyone else to invite tho 

[11:13] jk the slump god: hes not that bad ur just being urself

[11:14] LeBruh James: ur literally Not helping ur case rn

[09:45] LeBruh James: none of the girls want to gooooo

[09:45] LeBruh James: fine if it has to be taehyung ig ill live w it

[10:30] jk the slump god: great he already said yes

[10:30] jk the slump god: btw we’re gonna go in las vegas at the end of a road trip u in?

[10:33] LeBruh James: HE SAID YES BEFORE I EVEN INVITED HIM…

[10:33] LeBruh James: EYE. OK.

[10:33] LeBruh James: on one hand i kind of dont want to see any of u but if ur all gone i wont have anything to do b4 the wedding so i guess im in by proxy

[10:34] jk the slump god: lovely doing business with u y/n-chan

[10:36] LeBruh James: call me y/n-chan again and I Will Put ur Dick-Chan in a Freezer-sama and then Cut-san it off

[10:39] jk the slump god: i dont think ur using the honorifics correctly tbh..

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“I don’t see how this is a good idea,” you state with a dramatic pout while looking out of the window. Your expression is solemn. 

Taehyung kind of can’t believe that you’re throwing a tantrum just because you had to sit next to him in the three-row SUV, but on the other hand, he’s kind of into it. You’re more appalled by the fact that he’s not as disgusting up close as you’d imagined him to be. Well granted, you’re being immature, but it’s your shtick so they take it with a grain of salt.

“Why’s that?” Jungkook asks obtusely. He ruined your life the moment he started calling you [Y/n]-chan and he has that bad case of crazy eyes he gets sometimes when you look at his reflection in the mirror going on right now. You’d be more understanding of his condition, hadn’t your trip started barely five minutes ago. 

“What do you mean why is that? We’re all unstable backstabbing lunatics, do you think we can survive together for six whole days?! Stranded or even in a hotel? And then the ride back to Springfield?”

“Hotel? You’re funny. It’s always been my dream to sleep in a motel,” Jin pipes up. 

“Seriously? No limo, now this.”

“Hotel, motel, holiday inn,” Hoseok starts singing. Perhaps if it was queen Britney, it would’ve curbed your temper but fate doesn’t seem to be that kind. 

“Hotel, motel, holiday inn! Hotel, motel, holiday inn! Hotel, motel, holiday inn!” 

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“So we’re not going to visit the Grand Canyon?” 

“It’s in Nevada,” Jimin explains. “We don’t have any business there except for going to the wedding. I’d be more down to do it if I wasn’t afraid that one of us, meaning [Y/n], would push one of the others, meaning you, in the gutter.” 

“Just a little visit?” Taehyung is talented at only hearing what he wants to hear. However, that doesn’t make the conversation any more productive.

“Well not to be the acrophobic buzzkill, but why are you so adamant about visiting the Grand Canyon?” This is the first time you’ve directly addressed Taehyung since the beginning of these mind-numbing two hours. Jin, hands still on the wheel, dares to take a peek at Jungkook and smile an asshole-type smile before almost accidentally crashing into a pole. 

“Watch the road!” Hoseok cries out. Everyone else either refuses to acknowledge what just occurred or decides to spare themselves from doing so.

“Jin says that he always wanted to sleep in a motel. I have another dream.” 

“To visit the Grand Canyon?”

“Not exactly. I want to take a shit in there and see if I can hear it splatter. Think that’s possible?”

“Maybe if you angle your butthole the right way—” Jimin’s explanation is cut short.

“Oh my god, you are disgusting. Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”  

“What did I tell you about El Chapo, [N/n]?” 

“What about El Chapo?”

“Holy shit, I think I’m confusing conversations,” Jungkook admits. Jin offers no more than an eye-roll.

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Tulsa is a dump, really. Unfortunate that you had to make a stop here but also you’re satisfied because your right asscheek feels numb right now. Might have to take Kelly for a walk, though.  

Taehyung stumbles out of the vehicle after you and all six of you seize each other fleetingly before making your way towards the gas station, a tense sort of silence following. You’re first to speak up. “Y’know, I’ve been listening to your voices for so long now that I don’t wanna look at your faces.” 

“This tbh,” Hoseok agrees with your most profound sentiments as per the usual. He’s quick to match your pace, trailing after you like a lost puppy, successfully getting Taehyung out of his way. He puts his arm around your shoulders casually and you give him that sardonic smile that’s only really reserved for him.

“Don’t say tee-bee-aytch out loud. I get humiliation by proxy.” 

Jungkook makes an exaggerated gagging sound before nudging Taehyung subtly enough that Jin is the only one who sees the interaction. Though the eldest had agreed with his deranged idea, there’s one thing that Kook knows that Jin hasn’t come to find out. 

Taehyung has an ongoing problem or maybe he’s a masochist. He’s always been one to internally get attached to these girls who’d never give him the time of day, who can’t stand him at all. The tragedy-comedy that is his best friend’s love life started on a rainy day in second grade when a girl by the name of Seulbi punched him in the face and he was hooked on her for three years after. 

After the infamous Seulbi, came Yeonji from the cheerleading club who blew off his invite to his first-ever party when they were fifteen. She’d called him a loser to his face and he was smitten with her for a while, too. 

And then, you appeared in his life seemingly out of nowhere. Hoseok’s catty best friend with a tongue sharper than her stilettos and lipstick that goes perfectly with her skin tone. 

Of course, he was aware of your existence prior to that accident he calls his first conversation with you—be it from the exciting yet flat-out brain dead antics Hoseok would describe you’d gotten caught up in at the time or from the sound of your heels sinking into the floor promptly before you entered math class.  You were always late but claimed that the teacher should be grateful because you cut in line to arrive at school earlier. You always had one of those shitty overrated pumpkin spice lattes in your manicured hands. 

Simply put, Taehyung likes you. Though after your disastrous first meeting during which, blunt-natured and seemingly lacking a sense of self-preservation, he called you a stuck up moron and you threatened to make an attempt at his life. With your bullheaded nature, things never did solve themselves after that one instance.

It’s not something that he’s expressed outwardly, but Jungkook knows him better than he knows the back of his hand. Unfortunately, he knows you too, even if not as well and he knows how you can’t get a boyfriend because you either scare them away or you find out they’re only after a quick fuck and some money. 

Regardless, Jungkook writes off his inner ramblings as irrelevant before turning to Jin in what could be described as a conspirative manner. While clumsily handing the cashier gas money, he whispers something in the other man’s ear and Jin’s eyes literally twinkle like he’s in a low-budget porno. 

He nods, furiously so, and the cashier simply stares at them like they’re two idiots that somehow merged into one. It’s not a pretty sight. 

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“What? We’re sleeping out here?” Your whining is to be expected by now. Had any of your friends written an actual, physical, list of all the things you’ve complained about so far, it’d probably fill a notebook. Thankfully enough, said list remained as a mental compilation of your not-so-epic moments. “What about the motel?” 

“Oh, so now you want a motel?” Jin quips back with a smirk. “They always come ‘round.” 

Despite his boasting and apparent eagerness to go to a motel, that doesn’t change the fact that you all find yourselves in a campsite. You’re not an outdoor person save for going to parties or on a shopping spree with Hoseok. And well, your surroundings are a bit too green right now.

Taehyung is the next person to speak up, with a tense posture and his arms crossed over his chest, almost defiantly so. “Honestly, if you don’t want to be here, I don’t understand why you keep coming to these things.”

“Well, I don’t understand why I had to invite your dumb ass here either. I guess the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.” 

“Yeah, I thought Namjoon or Yoongi would be more fitting for your taste of guest,” he says, outright taunting you now, as if to remind you of your failed love rendezvous with your now close friends. 

“Well yeah, but they both denied, so I had to invite you.” 

“Ah,” he gives a slight sigh and you dismiss the sadness you register in his voice as something deserved for annoying you, “that does make more sense. Lucky me, I guess.”

“Awkies,” Jungkook announces as if it’s something that needs to be announced. Hoseok simply shrugs, and though you’re definitely not looking forward to sleeping out in the woods, he seems excited to try something new. 

There’s something hilarious about seeing a bunch of upper-class kids trying to set up tents and start a fire. You’ve converted to the cavemen with Hoseok, seemingly unaware that engaging in a one-sided debate with a bundle of sticks won’t make them randomly engulf in flames while Hoseok is trying out a trick he saw in the movies.

Honestly, it’s enough of a miracle that you actually went out in the woods and helped without tripping your silly ass and getting lost among the catacombs. Granted, Hoseok would’ve been compassionate enough to look for you had you gotten lost, but you probably wouldn’t get over the trauma of being covered in mud. 

Taehyung notices you both struggling. Part of him wants to make amends with you and a bigger part of him wants to leave Jimin to scramble on his own. Not that he’s sadistic or anything, he just likes seeing others suffer sometimes for entertainment purposes. 

Anyways. 

He approaches casually, like the kind of casual where you can tell that the person has an ulterior motive that they don’t want to reveal. Hoseok appears happy to see him, like he’s a savior on a white horse, while you don’t acknowledge him that much except for a sharp question regarding what he wants. 

He greets the older boy with one of these grins you won’t admit you enjoy looking at before roaming through the pockets of his jacket. Now that you’ve noticed him wearing one, you come to the sudden realization that it is getting quite breezy. 

Taehyung has the habit of scrunching his nose when he’s looking for something and then unconsciously smile broadly after succeeding in finding it. You don’t like that you’re aware of that and you especially don’t like that you can pinpoint the repetitive action.

It appears that Taehyung was looking for a lighter, of all things. 

“I thought you quit smoking?” You simply give him an incredulous look. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer. Though he doesn’t reek of the putrid smell, you’re still hoping that the answer to that question is yes. Instead of soothing your curiosity, however, he uses the lighter to ignite a spark in the firewood and you guess that it’ll have to do.

“Well, that was quite pathetic,” you comment unhelpfully. 

“Better than Hobi’s attempts and uh, whatever the fuck you were doing.” 

Hoseok is enthusiastic to announce that the bonfire’s ready. You watch the clumsily prepped three tents in disinterest, not bothering to defend your attempt at enchantment to him. “Hoseokie, you’re gonna share a tent with me right?” 

“Hoseokie,” Jin repeats, but in good fun, “I thought you were gonna crash with me tonight?”

You roll your eyes before redirecting your gaze towards Jimin and Jungkook. By the guilty smile Jungkook gives you, you can tell he doesn’t plan on letting Jimin out of his clown clutches. You narrow your expression and jut your lip out disapprovingly. 

“Well, Mr. Handsome,” Jin interrupts whatever you have to say with a thank you, “since you and Kook have been jointed by the assholes since we got here, I don’t see what the problem is.” 

“I think you’re just saying that because you don’t wanna sleep with Tae,” Hoseok comments obliviously. 

“What he said. Also, these crackwhores are planning something, and I’m going to find out what.”

“Well, you’re in tough luck because Hoseok promised,” Jin argues, emphasizing the word promise. He has a shit-eating grin on his face and he’s not even denying your accusation. 

Taehyung coughs once. The second time is overkill and sounds even faker than the first one. “Sorry, but if [Y/n] isn’t comfortable sharing the tent with me, it doesn’t really matter what Hoseok promised.” 

You gape at him. This is probably the first intelligent thing that you’ve heard come out of his mouth. You almost reconsider your treatment of him after that, but then you remember that a guy being half-decent isn’t something you’re supposed to celebrate. You suppose that even he looks like a saint compared to some of your exes.

Everyone notices the conflict on your face but doesn’t say anything about it. Jin admits that Taehyung’s right with a wail yet the tension doesn’t dissolve, somehow. You excuse yourself by declaring that you’re going to get the blankets out of the SUV. 

“Damn, that bad huh?” Jungkook laughs. It’s the hyena laugh that kind of doesn’t suit his face but also the one he does when he’s having fun for no good reason. 

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“I heard in the girls’ bathroom once that this girl went on a diet where she only eats bananas for three months. Like, five a day,” you explain while you munch on your banana in front of the bonfire. Needless to say, you’ve come out to be severely underprepared in terms of food on your first day. 

“That sounds like a strategy to make yourself unhinged,” Hoseok retorts. He believes your story but he’s skeptical about that banana business. “I’d never do that.” 

“Me neither. Diets are stupid, anyway, can’t a bitch eat?” 

Jungkook reaches over and high-fives you, looking at you like you’ve just invented air or some shit. “Amen to that sister.” 

“By the way, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Jimin is the one to speak up this time. 

“I have quite the plan for you, alright,” Jin laughs. His next statement, however, is the embodiment of his immature nature. “But that banana talk had me all distracted.”

Everyone collectively groans. You’re not really sure if what he said would classify as a dad joke at this point; you’re now entering single-and-desperate-dad joke territory. Can’t say that you’d enjoy it coming from someone else, but Jin is Jin.

“Anyways,” he dismisses his previous remark with an easy-going smile and a wave of his hand in thin air, “we’re going to a breakfast place first thing in the morning. By foot.” 

His grin is mischievous. You think this is the worst idea he’s had yet and no one else present seems attracted by the prospect of it either, so you vocally oppose him with a raised brow. “Don’t you realize how likely it is we’ll get lost?” 

“Yeah, I also don’t wanna walk too much.” Hoseok’s always one to back you up.

“Technology doesn’t lie, [Y/n].”

“If technology doesn’t lie how come I had a D on my maths test in junior year when I used Photomath?” 

Hoseok agrees, remembering the incident. That day was truly one of sorrow. 

“Technology only lies if you’re gullible enough,” Jin now changes the narrative. 

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You sneak out of your and Hoseok’s tent with a brief explanation thrown over your shoulder. Something about getting your make-up wipes from the trunk. Hoseok mutters inspiring words of advice—be careful, it’s dark and who knows what animal puke is on the ground—and you stumble your way to the SUV. 

Shoving the keys in the hole proves to be a difficult task, however. You aimlessly jut it in, hoping to hit the correct place by some sort of miracle. This is the moment that you realize that your eyes aren’t so good at adapting to the darkness. 

“Hey, what’re you doing?”

You jump up out of pure reflex. Startled, you whip around with a bemused look on your face. You’re gonna get wrinkles, damn it. 

“Woah, girl jumps in heels,” Taehyung comments dryly. 

“Don’t sneak up on me, you idiot cokehead,” you retort. You’re not sure why you said that. He’s not a cokehead. 

“No, but seriously, what’re you doing?” 

“I’m trying to look for my make-up wipes.” 

Taehyung takes the keys from you. Without half as much fumbling as you’d done previously, he opens the trunk and you proceed with looking through your purse, only to come to the conclusion that you’ve forgotten your make-up lines somewhere. There’s now a new resolve, clear as day in your twisted mind—you have to find the supermarket you passed by on your way here and buy new ones.

“Did you find them?”

“No.” You scoff. An angry thaw and the trunk is now closed. “I’m going to buy some.” 

“Woah, calm down tiger. Can’t you just sleep with it?” 

“No! Do you know how bad that is for your skin?” 

“Well, we could find a river and you could wipe your face with the dirty water.” 

You give him a blank stare, barely suppressing a small giggle. “Do you understand how ridiculous you’re being?” 

“I’m being ridiculous?”

Silence.

“...You’re not planning to go off in the woods during the dawn of asscrack, right?” 

“The what? Yeah.”

Taehyung looks towards your tent only to see that the light is completely shut down. Hoseok must be asleep already. “I’ll go with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do whatever you want.” 

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“So, why do you hate your cousin so much?” Taehyung asks abruptly from behind you. 

Most of your walk has been a silent one, so far, except for an occasional grumble from you and an absentminded one-liner from him. There’s also the sound of sticks crumbling under your high-heels that’s slightly irritating. 

“Because she’s unfunny,” you reply seriously.

“You have issues.” This is probably the least significant reason someone has ever hated somebody else for, in the entire history of hatred. Strangely enough, however, Taehyung can’t help finding it endearing how outlandish you can be.

“I’m sorry, I must have Alzheimer’s because I don’t remember asking,” you snap with a roll of your eyes. 

“You know, I have a dog,” he begins dramatically. “And sometimes he shits on the carpet and one time he puked on me, but I still love him very much. He’s gang, you feel?” 

“I don’t see how that helps with my family situation.”

“I never said it’s supposed to help, I just wanted to talk about myself.” He snickers. You’re getting the most violent of urges. 

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Leering over the thin metal fence that looms over an otherwise mundane hill gives you an idea. Down the admittedly high hill, the supermarket is obnoxiously lit up. However, the hideous sight doesn’t deter you—this is what your nirvana looks like in the given moment.

With one bold move, you lift your leg up the fence and Taehyung considers you, your motives and perhaps even your life until now. “What are you doing?” 

“It’ll be faster if I go down the hill.” 

“You’re gonna break your ankles in these shoes,” he rebuts, his voice a tilted monotone. “Also, I can see your underwear like this.” 

“Perveeeeert.” This is your final taunt before you do make it over the short fence and onto the other side. Examining the hill from up close—but not before you roll your miniskirt down—you come to two conclusions. The first one is that it’s quite steep and the second one comes when you’re one step down, that maybe, just maybe, you’re a bit deranged.

With your back turned to him, you don’t get to see Taehyung experiencing the five stages of grief. There’s obvious conflict on his face and to be precise, his current dilemma is between worry for you and a lack of power to stop you. Perhaps had you turned around, you’d find the sight entertaining.

His movements are leisurely once he does get in motion. Taehyung’s plan is to simply help you up now that he noticed that you’re hesitating to go further than you’ve already gone. 

His voice cutting through the night’s silence startles you. “Hey, you really shouldn’t do this.” 

You stumble. 

As tragic as that is, there’s something else to placate you; you’ve never seen Taehyung move so fast. Not even during the blip test in high school. The rest of his actions are less endearing—he throws you over his shoulder carelessly, stumbles onto the sidewalk and drops you like it’s hot. And then your legs are a bit wobbly, but you pretend they aren’t. 

The unnerving silence remains all the way to the supermarket, then back to the campsite and even when Taehyung’s awkwardly using his phone as a flashlight in your face while you remove your make-up. There’s nothing to say, except maybe if he were to ask you a question that’s not to your liking.

(He’s not that bad.)

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Jin is in a hurry, but you’re not sure what for. It’s been practically less than a day since you started this road trip, but it feels longer. You’re conflicted about how to feel regarding that, but even so, Jimin and Hoseok’s enthusiasm is hard to ignore. 

The feline smile on your face drops the moment Jungkook basically drags you out of your tent, bare-faced and severely underdressed. Well, to be honest, you blend in with them just fine, but in your head, you’re severely underdressed. Something more boujee is usually your style, but you realize your predicament won’t magically change the longer you’re walking in what feels like the middle of nowhere. 

Tusla is gross, yes, but maybe Oklahoma is just gross in general. 

When you’re unhappy, you don’t get shy about it—honesty is the best policy, after all. So you’re going on one of those annoying tangents you like to go on like it’s second nature to you. Maybe it is. 

Taehyung drones out whatever it is you’re saying the moment you start talking about a pimple in your nostril that has hair growing out of it. He’s not particularly grossed out by this revelation, rather, he doesn’t like listening to you go on and on about everything you don’t like about yourself. 

“And I couldn’t put on that necklace you got me for my birthday,” you complain before linking your arms with Hoseok’s and feigning a sniff.

“That is pretty horrible,” he hums in agreement. “I think I have a rash on my thigh.” 

“See, if Jungkook wasn’t being horrible I could probably get some kinda product to smear on it.”

Taehyung feigns a loud yawn. Tagging along with you and Hoseok isn’t as tiring as he’d like to make it out to be. 

“What’re you yawning so blatantly for? I hate being interrupted.” You roll your eyes cockily. 

“Sorry, I almost fell asleep during this uninteresting speech of yours.”

You fume again and Hoseok reassures you with something along the lines of don’t worry, [Y/n], it’s very interesting. Then, silence follows. It always seems to end up like this between the two of you. 

“Well, if it helps,” Taehyung starts, tone breezy, “you’re still beautiful.” 

You feel your face heat up. Sure, boys have given you plenty of compliments before—you’re no stranger to it—hot, sexy and maybe pretty on a good day. But beautiful? Especially without any make-up on? This is definitely something new. 

Hoseok smiles. “Yeah, he’s right.” 

You don’t want to admit just how flattered you really are. “Of course I am.”

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You take the first thing you find to your liking once you reach the breakfast place. Actually, it’s more brunch than it is breakfast, but all that walking is making you starve so you don’t feel particularly inclined to be hung up on semantics. 

“It’s on me.” Jungkook sweeps in smoothly, giving you a flashy smile. 

“Fuck off. I’m still mad at you.”

“You might be, but not for long,” he argues with an obnoxious grin on his face. “They call it… The Kook Effect.” 

You shake your head. “I’m pretty sure you just made that up.”

“Yeah? Remember when you won a bet against Jimin and he had to call you Supreme Majesty in freshman year? And then you pretended that he did it out of his own volition.” 

“Oh, I’m not taking this from you and your dead trim.”

“My trim is fine, thanks.”

“Dead trim!” you repeat, almost frantic. You’re so caught up with Jungkook’s dead trim that you don’t notice that Taehyung is giving you a cheesy smile as he buys you your food. He looks like the greasiest gentleman alive when he hands it to you. 

“And what’s that about?”

“In junior year, at summer camp, they took away our phones because someone recorded the instructor jerking off. And then like, blackmailed him.” 

You quirk an eyebrow up at this, unsure what he’s hinting at. “Right.”

“Right. And then they took all of our phones for a month and you started crying about how your life is a living nightmare.” 

“Right…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed as if that hadn’t happened a whole two years ago. But like, it totally was a big deal! “The no phone rule was the worst. Even worse than the public bathroom rule.”

“I did it. I’m making it up to you,” he explains. 

You feel your mouth twitch into a small smile, one that he hasn’t quite seen on you before. “I forgive you this once, then.” 

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“We’re going to a hotel after sightseeing,” Jin explains. It’s like he’s got everything figured out all by himself and perhaps with the help of Jungkook’s annoying personality. “I arranged the rooms and everything while you were eating.” 

“Quite epic,” Jimin comments absentmindedly. “Wait, rooms? Like, you mean who’s rooming with who?” 

“Yeah, I finished the registration.” He stares directly at you and then Taehyung. “You could switch if you wanted to, it doesn’t really matter.”

You give him a light glare, already having a brief idea of what he’s done, but don’t comment any further. With a sense of deja vu, you speak up again. “What about the motel?” 

“I wasn’t sure if we’re going to be passing by one today, so I thought hey! Better safe than sorry.” 

Everyone nods in half-agreement until Jin speaks up again. “Plus, you guys reek. You should shower. Couldn’t be me.”

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Predictably, Jin did set you and Taehyung up. You can’t tell what kind of game he and Jungkook are playing, however, the poor boy isn’t half as insufferable in your eyes ever since this road trip began, so maybe you should thank them. Still, you don’t trust them—their minds are as twisted as yours.

As the two of you are dragging your luggage towards your shared room, Taehyung reminds you that you’re free to tell him if you don’t want to sleep with him. “I could go to Jungkook’s room or something.”

You find the idea of being alone more unfavorable than you thought you would. Perhaps your high-school, drastically more histrionic, self would’ve found anything more pleasant than sharing a room with Taehyung. You’re a (slightly) changed person now, though. Or at least you’d like to believe you are.

“Let’s put it like this. I hate a lot of things.”

“You don’t need to tell me that, I already know,” he interrupts with a crude giggle. 

“But you’re not one of them,” you admit. 

There’s also the fact that the two of you are blatantly ignoring that you could switch with Jin and sleep with Hoseok instead.

No more words are spoken between the two of you that day. New Mexico isn’t half as bad as Oklahoma was. 

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You wake up before Taehyung does, punctually so. Rolling out of bed, you partly don’t care whether you wake him but at the same time, you try to avoid making too much noise before slipping into the bathroom. Though you’re definitely one to value your beauty sleep, yesterday’s incident left you paranoid over whether Jungkook or Jin would catch you unprepared. 

You go through your routine calmly and by the time Taehyung goes in the bathroom to take a piss, you’re ready to start doing your make-up. You stare at the foundation in your hand but before you can apply it, you hesitate. 

Do I need make-up to be desirable?

Of course, you’re aware that not all women who use make-up are insecure, or that it’s always necessarily toxic for your self-esteem. And you thought that was the case with you as well, but your doubts suggest otherwise. Swiftly, you put all of your stuff away, stick with your trusty lipstick and nothing else. 

“Morning,” he says, groggy still. 

“Morning.” You look over to him from the corner of your eye and he looks kind of dazed. “Jin says we’re staying here until tomorrow morning.” 

“Cool. Hotel’s nice. The scenery too.” 

“I guess.” 

There’s something cripplingly awkward when the two of you aren’t hurling insults at each other, you realize. 

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You’re off somewhere with Hoseok and Jin when Taehyung is hanging out with Jimin and Jungkook. Turns out their room has a nice balcony, and with the others out of the picture, there’s some kind of buzzed chatter about incoherent topics swirling around. 

Jungkook suddenly decides that it’s a good idea to start talking about his sexcapades. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe his mind’s slipping. Jimin kind of wants to admit how much he doesn’t care what his friend does outside of watching anime and playing video games, but there’s also a part of him that’s morbidly intrigued by Jungkook’s words. Like a dark spell or something. 

“I wanted to hit it off with [Y/n] in high school,” he admits bluntly.

The other two stare at him.

“Oh really? What made you change your mind?” Jimin asks, now more awake than ever. 

“Dunno. Like, she’s more like, the bitchy rival in rom-coms, not the protagonist. I liked her, but I didn’t think I could handle her,” he admits.

“Once we were clubbing and this guy was messing with me and I complained to her about it,” Jimin begins, leaning into his chair with a fond smile on his face, “and she was all like, I’ll show him. And I was like, what? And she was like, I’ll show him who he’s dealing with. And then I was like, okay, maybe don’t show him that much.” 

The three of them chuckle. Taehyung talks for the first time in a while. “Nah, I agree.”

“You dig it though, right?” 

Jimin gives him a knowing look right after Jungkook shoots his question with a drunken smile. He guesses that since Hoseok isn’t here, he can finally admit it. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I can’t get things right with her.” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like, we’re either fighting or it’s really awkward.” 

“You’re on your own.” Jimin dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think she hates you that much. It’s always Taehyung this, Taehyung that.” 

“True,” Jungkook agrees. “Like yes, maybe she’s complaining about you half the time and I know she loves gossiping but I’ve never heard her talk about someone else that much. Except maybe Yoongi. What I’m sayin’ is, you should give it a shot.”

“Why do you guys even fight so much?” Jimin laughs. “Whenever it happens, I like, forget what even happened to lead up to that.” 

“Well, you know me. I’m always too honest for my own good and when I hit her with some snark she starts getting all defensive. I just...” He sounds defeated by the time he’s finished with his explanation. Taehyung’s shoulders visibly slump and his frame slides down the uncomfortable chair. “I just want to get along with her.” 

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The fourth day is the first time you actually aren’t sure where you are. Save for supposedly being close to Nevada by now, you tuned out the rest of Jin’s explanation despite your previous attempts at keeping up with your location. 

Regardless, what’s important is living in the present. And the present for you right now is walking down a nameless street, in a mess of other tourists, with your pants uncomfortably sticking to your ass with sweat. In short, you feel gross. 

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be having the same problem, while you can’t even fake being unfazed. You envy him just the tiniest bit. 

A trashy souvenir shop seems to catch Taehyung’s attention. In the scorching heat and sand-yellow scenery of this town, however, even that seems more appealing. So when he urges you to go with him, you find yourself reluctantly agreeing. 

When you step in, the air conditioning of the otherwise homey shop welcomes you like taking a breather during an overcrowded party. You let an unconscious smile take over your face when you greet the cashier. She’s cute and her adorableness factor only spikes up when she practically beams at the sight of customers. 

“Hi! Please, feel free to look around.” 

“We will,” Taehyung answers offhandedly. Her gaze lingers on him. 

Most of the things don’t interest you. Actually, they’re hideous if you had to be completely honest. He doesn’t seem that enamored by them either, but you can tell he finds more redeeming qualities about them than you do. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your face when you see the most live-laugh-love-esque decoration to exist. Like something your mom would laugh-react to on Facebook. 

The offender is no more than three inches tall and wide, a ceramic plate with a cartoony burger portrayed on it. It’s holding a flag that says two simple words: “Nice Buns!” 

You can’t tell if it’s the radioactivity of Jungkook’s cooking from earlier or if this thing is what’s making you nauseous. However, food-poisoning or not, you’re quite disgusted by what you’ve just seen. “Oh my god, the caucasity.” 

“Aw, you don’t like it?” Taehyung says with a mocking pout. “I think it’s cute.” 

“What’s wrong with you? It’s corny.”

“No, it isn’t. It might’ve been if it was a corn-dog, though.” 

You heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “You’re saying words that have no positive impact on my life.”

“I think I’ll buy it,” he declares, before checking the price and realizing he hasn’t brought enough money with himself. 

You shake your head. “I’m not gonna be an accomplice to… that.” 

“Well, of course not. This is your Valentine’s present.”

“Go to hell. As if I’d be your Valentine in the first place,” you reply sardonically before pushing him out of the way.  

Taehyung realizes something at that moment. Even outside your evident disinterest in him and his affairs, the two of you are completely incompatible. You, too quick to judge and be offended and him, too quickly to say the first thing on his mind, obviously don’t mesh smoothly. 

Neither of the boyfriends you’ve had that he’s spoken to is anything like him, either. If Namjoon and Yoongi have one thing in common, it’s that they’re both calm, collected and have a good head screwed securely on top of their shoulders. He’s not like that.

Even so, that revelation only makes the concept of being with you more alluring. 

Kim Taehyung is an idiot. But more importantly, with one glance towards the admittedly good-looking cashier making googly eyes at him, Kim Taehyung makes a decision.

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While you’re taking a shit in a nearby cafeteria, you receive a text from Taehyung. This is shocking by itself since despite the two of you having each others’ numbers, you never really text. 

[15:30] pain in the neck: im going on a date w/ the cashier

[15:30] pain in the neck: feel free to leave

[15:45] Princess Complex: i’m just gonna hang with jungkook thank god

Why is your stomach sinking?

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Once you meet up with Jungkook, you explain the situation briefly. He quickly looks you over, confusion evident on his face. “What? On a date?”

“Yeah, he just kinda left me in the toilet,” you confirm with a shrug. “Anyways, where do you wanna go?” 

It’s not like Jungkook is an oblivious idiot with the emotional capacity of your aunt’s mutated sixth toe, even if he may appear to be. But you never thought he’d call you out the moment your overly confident facade starts slipping. His gaze softens. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

He isn’t examining you when he asks. No, he appears to be looking off, somewhere behind you. However, you remain ignorant to that fact. 

“Yes! Why would I care? I’d rather drink toilet water for ten years straight than spend any more time with that moron,” you snap, too worked up for someone who supposedly doesn’t care. 

“Is that how you really feel about Taehyung?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, let it go.”

Jungkook makes one more helpless expression, shrugs lightly, and you fail to realize that neither of those gestures is directed at you. “Let’s go to the arcade.”

“I’m not really into video games,” you lie as you run your hand through your hair, “but fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

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When Taehyung goes back to your room in the trashy motel, notably late during the night for a mere first date, the atmosphere is tense. There’s a crease in your brows when you unlock the door and obvious bite marks over your bare lips. He stumbles ahead to enter, but you continue blocking his path with your arms frigidly crossed over your chest.

“You’re late.” 

“And what’s it to you?” He’s never spoken to you so harshly. There are moments where his words bite, but never does he say them with an expression and tone that are so frosty.

“Nothing in particular.” You move out of his way, finally, and he enters. You briefly wonder if he’s had alcohol before you start talking again. “I’ve been stuck in this room for like, an hour because the keys are in me. Waiting for you...”

“Poor you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard what you said about me to Jungkook. You know, I’m starting to understand why you scared away all your exes.”

Warth washes over you in waves for a millisecond before it disperses into nothingness, a cold numbness that makes your back shiver. Your gaze on him is empty yet livid at the same time and he cowers under it. You’re not sure if the guilt on his face is a flicker of your imagination or if it’s genuine, but you hope it’s the latter. 

It’s never his words that are a big deal to you. It’s the way he speaks every syllable, so earnestly with truth laced in every letter, that makes you go off the hook. Because deep down, you’re aware that he doesn’t mean to be malicious or to offend, it’s merely him telling his truth.

You grab a few things impulsively with a mundane declaration, before storming off god knows where. “I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

When the door clicks behind your frame, Taehyung backs down and sprawls out across the bed. Truthfully, he regretted his words before he even opened his mouth. But he was so angry, be it with you or with himself.

It just seemed so unfair that you could blow him away time after time and yet, on his date the only thing on his mind was you. The mediocre make-out session and him awkwardly leaving out of nowhere didn’t help, either. And then you had to be so perfect, waiting for him instead of locking his ass out like he thought you would.

It isn’t the girl’s fault she’s raised to be as sweet as sugar while you’re more like citrus. He’s always had a knack for lemons, anyway.

The fact that you spent the rest of the day with Jungkook only aggravates him further, the younger’s words repeating in his head. I tried to hit it off with [Y/n] in high school, or whatever it was that he said exactly. All of this is his own fault, anyway—if he hadn’t been so temperamental, you would’ve stayed with him for the rest of the day.

Taehyung stares at the cheap lights hanging on the ceiling until his eyes hurt that night.

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Half-way through your trek to Hoseok’s room, you crumble. A sob escapes your throat and then another one. After these two instances, your tears don’t cease. 

At first, Jimin is excited to see you at their door but his smile slips the moment he realizes what a bad state you’re in. You’re practically making whale noises while desperately searching for Hoseok. 

“I’ll give you two a moment.” He gives you one final look-over and leaves with a not-so-threatening threat. “Or maybe thirty. You better be smiling and singing Toxic by the time I’m back, [Y/n].”

Hoseok rushes to hug you. “God, girl, what’s wrong?”

“I like Taehyung.” 

“Is that it? You’re a strong girl, y’know, I never pictured you crying over some pretty boy.” 

“No. I’m crying because I’ve liked him all this fucking time and I tried to run away from him because I’m scared. And he said the most horrible thing to me,” you explain as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. “That’s why I’m crying.”

“I hope he isn’t allergic to hands, because he’s about to catch them. Actually, I hope he is allergic.” Hoseok isn’t one to ask about details. He lets you get it out of your system, makes a few promises (most often of violence) and then allows you to elaborate if you wish to do so.

You laugh, but it turns into choking considering how much snot you have running down your face by now. “He said that he understands why my exes run away from me. I mean, I— I said something rude about him first, but Jungkook was backing me into a corner and I didn’t know he would even find out about it, I just—”

“Forget about him, forget about Jungkook, everyone. Tonight is for Britney,” Hoseok commands more than he asks you.

You smile sadly at him before uselessly wiping your tears away and giggling like you’re on the brink of losing your mind. Perhaps you are.

“My 45-carat booger. Hey, let’s make Jimin do the chicken dance,” Hoseok starts off like he’s coddling you in his strange way of doing so, but then quickly turns diabolical. He throws some tissues at you and you accept them. If there’s one thing you’re truly grateful for, it’d be your best friend.

You nod, suddenly more excited than you should be. Hoseok’s right—you don’t need some pretty boy when queen Britney is watching over you.

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The next day, you’re wearing a full-face of make-up, and Taehyung notices it. Hoseok’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, talking about some nonsense as usually do. The atmosphere is light, with Jimin and Jungkook occasionally joining in your conversation and Jin sleeping with his forehead pressed against the window.

Truth to be told, Taehyung feels like a zombie right now. Pretending that your scuffle with him meant nothing to you only convinces him further how little you care about anything that has to do with him.

“I think we’ll be in Las Vegas soon,” Hoseok announces cheerily.

On one hand, you’re happy to finally be seeing the end of this road trip. Though you’ve technically just been relaxing, you wanted to be done with your cousin’s dumb wedding and go back to spending an average amount of time with your friends. You want to forget how flippant things are between you and Taehyung, your quote-unquote friendship dictated by mood swings rather than actual feelings.

“Fuck yeah! I wanna get drunk in Vegas,” you say with a smirk. “It’s on my bucket list.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“You want to get drunk everywhere,” Jungkook corrects with a laugh. You can’t help agreeing with him. “And Jin will probably stay in the hotel and play Candy Crush or something.”

“Ew, ew, ew, a fucking millenial,” you exclaim in mock disgust.

“Jin can be a beast if he wants to. Remember when he twerked in front of the whole school on Taehyung’s birthday party?”

“Shit was wild, man.”

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No one except you, Hoseok and Taehyung himself is aware of what transpired yesterday. So Jungkook and Jin are still stubbornly placing the two of you together, yet you’re too powerless to fight it.

The hotel is a fancy one, courtesy of your annoying cousin. She’s been texting you and you sent a short message back to inform her you’ve arrived, but you haven't bothered to deal with her provocations any further. 

After dumping his luggage near his bed, Taehyung was straight out of the room and you started getting ready. And that was that. 

You feel more like yourself when you find the wine hidden in the fridge, a free present from the hotel. Or maybe your cousin’s way of making peace. Ha, as if that’d happen. 

When Taehyung comes back to get dressed, you’re already tipsy and acting like a fool.

“Drinking already?” There are many things that Taehyung wants to say to you. An apology he’s too sober to say and a confession you’re too drunk to hear, to begin with. 

“It’s pre-game,” you explain dizzily. “You know. I never told you why I hate my cousin so much. She used to bully me and she stole my first boyfriend from me. And we never got past it.”

With your trademark look, high-heels, acrylics, a fancy yet revealing dress along with whatever else you consider fashionable at the moment, Taehyung feels familiarity staring at your lopsided smirk. Though he’s gotten glimpses of other sides of you during these past few days, like how you like cuddling during the night, this is the epitome of who you are.

“Yeah,” he replies agreeably, though you’re not sure what for.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but Hoseok is waiting for me. So, this is bye-bye.” 

“See you there.”

“Probably not.” You snicker. Taehyung can tell that you’re still upset with him.

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You’re so wasted that the things happening around you aren’t really making sense anymore. While you and Hoseok were drinking together for a while, at one point Jungkook whisked him away, then there’s a blank in your memory and now you’re here. Alone. And you’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had. 

A man, that’s definitely a few years older than you, finally approaches you after observing you from afar. He says some sort of sleazy line—you’re not sure what it is, you’re not really listening—and offers you a drink. 

You consider him. He’s not your type at all and that pornstache isn’t helping his case but, when you look at Taehyung and see him talking and having fun while you’re being an alcoholic by your lonesome and moping about him, you quickly accept his offer. Pornstache or not. 

“Pick anything you’d like, kitten,” he purrs, in an attempt at being seductive. 

“Well first off I’m not a furry so don’t call me that,” you snap with a self-assured grin. And then you start listing off the most expensive drinks on the menu. 

This man is so enamored by you that he buys you all of them. You’re three steps closer to alcohol poisoning when you clumsily stumble onto the dance floor along with him, running your hand over his jaw in what you believe to be a sensual manner. He seems to dig it, but from an outsider’s perspective the two of you look like junkies trying to get off. 

Your experience in the club is romanticized. The dim lights are reminiscent to those few times you’ve gone to a rave and it reeks of alcohol, overpriced perfumes and sweat. You and your nameless pathetic fan mingle with the grinding crowd and begin imitating them. 

As the poet Lady Gaga once said, “redlight pornographic dance fight”. 

The act itself is indifferent to you. From across the room, Taehyung locks eyes with you and you’re not really sure why but you feel this sudden need to provoke him, even when you know he most likely wouldn’t care. You sloppily kiss your suitor’s cheek while looking at him intensely from across the room. A red trail from your wet lips makes its way down his face.

For the sake of pettiness, you might’ve gone further—I mean, you were already playing some weird game of tug-and-war but with clothes—but you don’t want to know the feeling of this guy’s lips against yours. He finds the mostly innocent action as an invitation, though, and abruptly halts your staring contest with Taehyung by forcing you into a greedy kiss.

Pushing him away, you give him a pointed stare and rejection is clear on his face. “Excuse me…” 

He’s a terrible kisser. 

Pushing through everyone that’s in your way, you make your escape through the first door you find. In your intoxicated parade, you fail to make sense of the words ‘CLOSED’ that are so blatantly taped over the entrance. So, you find yourself in front of a swimming pool. 

The cold breeze outside prickles at your skin unpleasantly, and a quick look around tells you that there’s no one around to put this in their cringe compilation. Apparently more disgusted than you’d initially thought, you puke your guts out in front of the pool. Now light-headed and somehow empty, you stare at your vomit and take a deep breath. 

“Hey, why’d you run away?” Your suitor from earlier appears to have followed you outside. You stare at your feet—doesn’t he understand that you wanted to get away from him?

“You’re a bad kisser,” you say bluntly after getting over your little trance. 

“Give me a chance to change your mind then,” he offers smugly, taking menacing steps towards you. You move away instinctively before you’re quickly backed into a wall, with his two hands trapping you in between. 

Your eyes widen with fear and you sink into yourself. If you had anything else to puke out, you’re sure you would’ve done so at this point. “I have sharp nails and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Oh, she bites-”

The events that play out next happen so slowly, you’re not sure why you’re surprised. Taehyung appears, and you do see him in your peripheral vision, stares for a bit before knocking the guy out with a punch to his temple. He falls unconscious on the ground.

“Oh god, did I kill him?” he asks, a vacant look on his face. He imagined his first kill to be more thrilling, but on second thought, he’s not sure why he was thinking about that without being under the influence of substances in the first place. 

“I’d be happy if he’s dead, if that helps,” you comment dryly. 

“Do we dump the body in the pool or what?”

The two of you are drunk enough to consider it. Your mind is blank for a bit, before you finally speak up. “I’m trying to think of what I saw on How To Get Away With Murder, but it’s not coming to me. But like, on Blacklisted, there was this guy who like, made the corpses turn to gas or something!”

“You watch too much TV. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s called The Blacklist.”

“Whatever. Do you know how to do that?”

“No.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” A new voice cuts in.

“You better come up with something convincing or we’ll have to kill him too,” you urge.

“Did you say something?”

“No.”

“Umm, awkward believe it yeah,” Taehyung begins, a strong start. “This guy slipped on her puke and hit his head. And he has a concussion now.”

“Man, that sucks,” the guy says. You’re relieved that he’s as trashed as he is, otherwise the situation would’ve went really badly, considering how Taehyung straight-up lied to his face. “I’ll go call someone over ‘ere.”

Once he’s out of sight, the two of you stare at each other and decide to flee the country. But then change the plan with the more economically-efficient idea to simply leave the club. 

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“Why were you with that guy anyway?” Taehyung asks. Frankly put, neither of you know where you’re going, but you’re boldly leading him through the artificially-lit streets of Las Vegas as if you’re born there. Where you end up is a concern your sober selves of tomorrow should worry about.

“I wanted to make you jealous,” you reply, bold, like everything you do when you’re drunk is. 

“...I don’t get it.”

“You pissed me off so much yesterday. And you made me jealous when you went out with that cashier. But also, you killed a guy for me, so I guess I’m not mad at you anymore.” 

“Well aren’t you high-maintenance,” he retorts sarcastically, gaining what feels like a confidence spurt because of your sudden confession. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of, anyway. The only thing I had on my mind during that stupid fucking date was you.”

You freeze up. You thought that your own attitude was what made any possibility of him returning your feelings seem laughable. Even if it’s drunk blabber, alcohol is an honesty elixir, at least in your case. “Kiss me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, attacking your lips so eagerly you’d consider it funny if you were in a right state of mind. Still, your reciprocation is just as hungry, so maybe you don’t have any room to laugh. He is indulging you, after all.

The wipeout that happened at the club happens again and you’re left to wonder how things escalated. From teeth clashing against each other in pure excitement, you’re left hovering over Taehyung’s form and straddling him unsteadily.

He reaches under your already high dress and the glimpse of your panties seems to excite him. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he admits breezily. 

You smile, a teasing one, adjusting yourself better. “You don’t need to be so dramatic about it, it’s just underwear.” 

“Dramatic is how many times I’ve jerked off after we went to the supermarket and you flashed me.”

“Ewwww, we shared a bed like three times, freak,” you scold and he pouts when you distance yourself from him. 

“I was just trying to be funny!”

“Not funny. Didn’t laugh. It’s better when you don’t talk,” you instruct before leaning down again to kiss him. At least he’s having fun with groping whatever he can get his hands on. 

“You’re so annoying it turns me on. Always whining, it drives me nuts how much I really like you.”

You snicker. “Well, I sure am feelin’ the love here.”

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When you wake up, you register three things. Four, actually. First—your left shoe is missing. Second— Taehyung is knocked out cold next to you. Third—you don’t know where you are, except for the fact that there’s a garbage bin next to you. Fourth—your head is throbbing with pain and you’re so sore you’re not sure if you can walk. Needless to say, you had the wild night in Vegas you wished for in your bucket list, and you only half-regret it.

You see your shoe discarded near you and nudge it with your toe for a bit before finally gathering enough power to sit up and put it on. Or so you think, because the moment you’re propped in a standing position, you vomit like you did yesterday. 

Speaking of yesterday, the only thing you remember is that you and Taehyung were convinced that he’s now a murderer on the run, confessing your feelings for each other in an anti-climactic manner and then having like seven rounds of public sex. 

With a recap of yesterday’s events, you digress and put your shoe on before reaching in your purse. Surprisingly, you haven’t been robbed. Fishing your phone out, you come to the conclusion that you’ve been knocked out cold for way too long. 

Hoseok has generously spammed you with seventy texts, but you don’t bother to read them, already assuming that the gist is something about where the fuck you and Taehyung are. Instead, you call him immediately. 

“Hi,” you greet casually.

“[Y/n]! Where the fuck are you and Tae? We were so worried. Jin almost declared you two missing. But on the positive side, Jungkook didn’t care because he got food poisoning yesterday at the club.”

“I don’t know where we are, but he’s with me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ll send you my location. I don’t have money for Uber, love you, kisses and hickeys,” you say in one breathe before hanging up quickly and doing what you said you’d do. 

At first, you thought this road trip was an opportunity for you to grow and mature. However, after yesterday’s shenanigans, you’re almost convinced your sociopathic tendencies are now higher by 5%. 

You start shaking Taehyung until he wakes up and swats your arms away. Now upon closer inspection, while you’re aware that you look bad right now, he’s not looking too hot either. The lipstick marks you had left on his face make it look like you’ve either slobbered all over him or that he’s a vampire, you’re not sure. And you’ve bitten him so much somebody could think he got attacked by a racoon judging solely on those bruises.

You quickly explain the situation to him as you’re fixing up your bra and top. Considering the fact that you were bordering on nip-slip territory, that was your priority. Smoothing your dress is easy enough, but your pantyhose is mysteriously ripped in some incriminating places.

He reaches out, rips out the fake eyelash that was pathetically hanging off the corner of your eye and throws it away. You take care of the other one, wipe off your ruined make-up and then wipe off the lipstick on his face. 

Your head hurts so much that you don’t know what to say to break the silence. Though you also don’t doubt that he’s in the position, and so, for the first time it doesn’t feel awkward between the two of you. 

“Hey, [Y/n], are we like… dating now?”

“I think so? You can be my date to the wedding if you want.” 

A dopey smile takes over his face. You realize you’ve made someone this happy before with merely being yourself. It fills you with a kind of warmth you’ve never felt before.

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“Your cousin won’t stop calling you,” Taehyung emphasizes as you’re pointedly ignoring your ringtone while you get ready. Considering the atrocious state both of you came back in, the process taking longer than usual shouldn’t be a surprise. Especially since you had to take turns for the shower.

Also the part where the two of you got into a fight over who should go in first—your thesis being arguably stronger once you mentioned the mud ingrained in the left sole of your feet—only slowed you down further.

“I know right? Can’t this pregnant moron get a life.”

“No, I think she’s calling you because we’re late to the wedding,” he elaborates. “You should pick up.”

“But I hate her!”

“You can roast her at the wedding and I’ll hype you up if you do what I ask.”

“Oh my god, promise?” 

“Promise.”

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“Look who finally showed up,” your cousin greets you with a tight smile. You can only return the sentiment as Taehyung dumbly trails behind you. 

Well, as much as you don’t like your cousin, the wedding is certainly nice. With a light atmosphere and a fancy ceremony, he can’t pretend he hates it—that much is certain. Though he can also tell that it’s a lot of money wasted on food that doesn’t look appetizing in the slightest the more he examines the buffet.

“I see you’re not wearing the dress I shipped to you. Is it too tight, perhaps?” She’s smiling fakely and sweetly as she waits for your answer to her provocation. Of course it’s too tight; what else could it be when she picked it two sizes smaller than what you usually wear. And she did it on purpose too.

Despite the rather mundane conversation happening, the tension is thick.

“I’m going to be quick. You look like a greasy manatee.” You give her your own uptight smile before strutting away, cueing Taehyung to follow after you.

“Pregnancy-shameeeeed,” he yells out as he offers her finger guns and speed-walks in your direction. 

Once he’s caught up with you, he speaks up again. “I know you could’ve been more brutal than that.”

“Oh please, I’m sophisticated, I’d never engage in some barbaric behavior.”

You both burst out laughing at your blatant lie. 

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“Do you think they’re dating now?” Jin asks, looking at the two of you as you dance and joke around. Though he imagines that you could only be having a deranged conversation, one that isn’t as sweet and lovey-dovey as it might look from an outsider’s perspective, it’s still quite disgusting how smitten Taehyung looks with you. 

“I don’t care,” Jungkook answers. Him saying he doesn’t care is a metaphor for how much he doesn’t care about anything after his food poisoning.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Oh definitely. I saw them making out near a garbage dumpster when we were driving back to the hotel.”

Seokjin chokes.

Preordained 10

Pairing(s):Poly!BTSxOC, Sub!BTSxOC,

Warnings: Implied sexual situations, Mentions of sexual situations, implications of Dom/sub relationships

Notes: I’ve been having so much trouble with Tumblr lately so I might end up posting on Ao3 from now on...

Masterlist

Jimin was the first to drop out.

The pressure of all his classes combined with the Idol training proved to be too much for him, and he found himself struggling to maintain a healthy mental outlook. Many of Zara’s nights were taken up with pulling Jimin out of his anxiety. When she gently brought up that maybe he should consider giving up either school or being an idol, he cried.

When he decided that he wanted to be an Idol full time, he cried.

When he came back from the enrollment office with his paperwork to drop, he cried.

And when he turned the papers in, called his parents and told them what he’d done, he cried.

The only thing that calmed him was Zara’s fingers running through his hair. 

Next was Yoongi. First he quit his job at the club, the hours and hours of practice and Idol classes making him even more tired than he usually was. Zara had lost count of how often he came home and just completely crashed on the couch.

Then he quit his job at the coffee shop, throwing himself into perfecting his rapping instead. He put in extra time with Hoseok and Jimin in an attempt to better his dancing.

And finally, he dropped his classes without even consulting anyone, secluding himself so that he could write song lyrics in peace. His mother was livid when she found out, but he ignored the anger, confiding in Zara one late night, “I just want to provide a good life for her, and this will be the way to do it. She just doesn't see it yet.”

After Yoongi, it was Jungkook, and he did so without any warning. Jungkook was good at everything he did, and that included balancing school and his duties as a trainee, so it really threw everyone for a loop when he came home way too early one day like it was nothing. He told them that while he didn’t have a problem maintaining the double life, he didn’t want it to get to the point where he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“It’s better for me to quit while I’m ahead, Noona,” he said, braiding a strand of her hair absently as she drew a picture of a sleeping Yoongi. “This way I can completely focus on becoming an Idol, and later, when I think I’m ready, I can go back.”

Then it was Hoseok, who had decided that learning the choreography and the songs had to take precedence over his studies. He had made the decision on his own, but the weight of it had forced him into Zara’s bed late one night for emergency cuddles. It had been a hard decision for him, knowing how badly dropping out would disappoint his parents, but he’d done what he’d thought was best at the moment.

Taehyung probably didn’t need to drop out but he did, claiming between Idol training and classes, he didn’t have any time for Zara. “I’m neglecting you,” he said, “and I don’t want to be the man that neglects his Soulmate.” It took Zara only two days to figure out he actually had been stressing over his workload, but he’d hidden it well so she wouldn’t notice. But when he no longer had to worry about school, Zara noticed a lot of tension had left his shoulders, and his smile started coming easily again.

The only ones to finish out the year were Zara, Jin and Namjoon. Zara, because she was stubborn, and Jin and Namjoon because it was their last semester, and therefore foolish for them to drop out when they were already almost done.

It wasn’t until a week after Namjoon and Jin’s graduation ceremony that Zara stood in the small kitchen, hands clutching a piece of paper tightly. The boys were all eating breakfast and preparing themselves for their day of training.

Namjoon was the first to notice.

“Not you, too.” He took the fact that everyone had dropped out almost personally. He felt he was failing as a leader because he couldn’t help them maintain balanced schedules.

Zara’s eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head. “No, I’m not dropping out. Not really.”

“Zara, that doesn’t sound like a straightforward answer.”

Zara handed him the paper and watched his face change with his emotions. He held a paper that stated Zara’s dual-citizenship of the United States and South Korea.

“Holy shit!” He stood up and dragged her into a hug. “Congratulations!”

“What?” Taehyung asked, trying to look at the paper still in Namjoon’s hands. Namjoon responded by turning Zara to face the group.

“Boys,” he said, “You’re looking at a new citizen of South Korea.”

A cheer went up as the boys jumped from their seats, showering Zara with affection. When they had settled she held her hands out.

“And about the college thing, I know you guys are debuting soon, and I know that means you’ll start touring. We all know I’ll end up coming with you or we’ll all get a case of Separation Syndrome again,” she paused for the collective hiss as the boys remembered the way they’d reacted to the winter vacation debacle.

“So...?” Hoseok leaned forward, smiling at her.

“So,” Zara smiled back at him, “I decided that I’m going to sign up for online classes next semester.”

“Well,” Namjoon sighed, “At least you’re not dropping out.”

xXx

Taehyung sat in his seat, twisting his hands in his lap. Zara stood behind him, running her fingers through his hair. On the counter sat several foul smelling concoctions in bowls. Strands of hair littered the kitchen floor around him, the others having already gotten the hair makeovers that BigHit had requested they get before their debut. 

The boys had kicked up a fuss when they’d found out about the makeovers until BangPD had told them Zara would do it, her first job as their hair and makeup stylist. Which is why Zara had the reference photos taped to the wall so she wouldn’t screw up.

“Ready, Baby Boy?”

“No,” Tae admitted.

Aside from perhaps Namjoon, whose hair had been shaved on the sides and then quaffed into a perfect Mohawk, Taehyung was about to have the most drastic change to his hair. Already the sides had been dyed black. Zara had the clippers ready, a pair of scissors dangerously tucked into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Okay,” she said, “tell me what I can do to help?”

“Just— can you keep—“

Zara knew exactly what he needed without him being able to say it. She brought her fingers to the hair at the side of his head, and Tae closed his eyes and tried to memorize that feeling. He wanted to remember what it felt like to have her play with his long hair because he wouldn’t be able to feel it for a while.

“Okay,” he said and Zara tugged gently at his hair before taking the scissors to it.

Like she had with the others, Zara lamented the loss of Taehyung’s hair, but did her job diligently nonetheless. When she was done, she carefully took bleach to the top part of his hair to dye it blonde, leaving the newly shaved sides black. Standing in front of the mirror when his hair had been washed out, Tae frowned, playing with the damp blonde strands.

“Noona...” his voice was very near to a whine. “You did a good job but...” He paused as Zara stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, “Are people really going to care what we look like?”

“Unfortunately, that is all some people are going to see, but there will be others that will see you, Baby Boy. And you are someone worth loving.”

He tipped his head back and sighed deeply.

“Well...Why does Kookie not get a makeover?!”

Zara laughed loudly, prompting Tae to smile.

At least he knew that Zara loved him for him.

xXx

The waiting room was filled with chatter, although none of the boys were really contributing. There was a cameraman floating around filming them, but over the months since Jin’s YouTube channel was made private, they’d all forgotten how to act around cameras.

Zara had Jin sitting in a chair in front of a mirror, her knee on the edge of the chair as she leaned over him to painstakingly tightline his eyes in black. Outwardly, Jin didn’t appear as nervous as the younger ones did; he wasn’t hiding in a corner “practicing” like Namjoon (now nicknamed Rap Monster by BangPD), and he wasn’t pointlessly wandering the waiting room like Jungkook. He wasn’t nervously chattering to the camera like Jimin. He just sat in the chair and let Zara work.

But Zara had already picked up on the truth; he was probably most nervous of them all. He told himself he couldn’t dance as well as Hoseok and he couldn’t sing as well as Jungkook and he was starting to really freak himself out. His hand, which rested on Zara’s jean-clad knee to steady her as she leaned over him, was opening and closing in a fist in time with his pounding heart.

“This brings back memories, huh?” Zara mused, trying to lighten the tension. Jin sighed contentedly.

“Do you think if I fail at this Idol thing I’ll be able to get a decent job or do you think I’ll never be able to show my face anywhere?”

Zara paused.

Not if we fail, but if I fail. 

“Zara-ssi?”

She looked down at Jin and tilted his chin up to get at his upper waterline.

“You won’t fail at this Idol thing, oppa.”

“How do you know?”

“A Soulmate knows these things.” She gently rubbed the frown lines out of his cheeks. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“What if I mess up?”

“If you mess up, it just means you’re human, Seokjinnie, and nobody will love you any less.”

Jin didn’t reply, as Zara finished lining his eyes. Behind them, they could hear Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin teasing Namjoon about his warm up. Zara heaved a sigh and made to go scold them, but Jin’s hand came around her wrist, tugging her back.

“Thank you, Zara-ssi.”

Zara’s lips curved into a smile, and she did a quick glance of the room to make sure the cameras weren’t pointing at them. Then she leaned over him again, pressing a long kiss to his plump lips. She pulled away when his shoulders relaxed, his breath leaving him in a soft moan.

“You’re amazing, Seokjin. Just as amazing as the rest, please don’t ever forget that.”

Jin smiled at her, his cheeks tinting pink.

“Okay,” he agreed, “Now go, before Jungkook bullies Namjoon any more.”

Zara gave him another kiss before practically skipping away.

The pre-recording of the Boys’ debut, from Zara’s point of view, went off without a hitch. Jimin made a point of lifting his shirt to show off his abs to the camera (but especially Zara), Jungkook lifted Jimin without any issues, and Jin did an amazing job with both his singing and his dancing.

Jin, of course, didn’t think so. Zara only had to spend 5 minutes drying his tears and touching up his makeup. BangPD, lingering around in the background and simply observing, had to admit that Zara Underhill was excellent at talking these Boys off the ledge.

He watched as she gathered the Boys in a circle around her. She put her hand in the center of them and they all followed suit, placing hands on top of hers.

“You’ve only got We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2 left, and then the pre-recording is over. Seokjin oppa is feeling down right now, so I want you all to lend him your strength, and I’ll lend you my strength too. You’re a unit, my loves, and tomorrow you show the world how strong of a unit you really are. You just have to get through today, first. So, on the count of three, we say BangtanBangtan, okay? 1...2...3!”

“BangtanBangtan!”

They broke the circle, and when they went back onto the recording stage, their performance was beyond amazing, possibly the best they had ever performed. They made no mistakes, and BangPD realized, when Namjoon came off the stage and gathered Zara into a huge hug, how important the American girl really was to the Boys, and how important she would become to his company.

xXx

The next day, on the official debut, Zara once again painstakingly lined each boys with black liner and covered any blemishes on their face. Everyone that sat in her chair was nervous this time. They had already gone through a dry run of the performance, and nobody seemed pleased. Jimin had messed up on a small portion of the dance and he was spending the time until the debut practicing the part. Yoongi too, ran through the dance step by step, as well as Tae, who had done it in its entirety three times already. 

Jungkook showed his nerves through bugging the older members, spraying Namjoon’s throat spray and playing with Zara’s makeup kit as she worked on Hoseok. When he finally got into the seat himself, he immediately started dozing off as Zara played with his hair.

The camera caught a glimpse of her lightly tapping under his chin, which had him waking up with a smile and an adorable laugh.

“Noonaaaaa!”

Zara smiled, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

It wasn’t long before the director was calling them to perform, and Zara quickly made her way into the audience. She’d been informed already that the next time she’d be seeing her boys would be late that night. 

Ji-yoo was in the audience, practically bouncing in her seat. When Zara slid into the seat next to her, her best friend grabbed her arm with both hands.

“I can’t believe this! Kim Taehyung, an Idol. Where did I go wrong?”

Zara snorted, gripping Ji-yoo’s hand tightly.

“They’re so amazing, Ji-yoo, wait until you see them.”

Ji-yoo kept a tight grip on Zara throughout the entire performance, and whenever abs were revealed, screaming would fill the audience, Ji-yoo the loudest of them all. Zara’s face began to hurt from how long and how wide she was grinning. Her beautiful boys were dominating the stage and already stealing hearts.

Ji-yoo was shaking Zara with force by the time the boys were bowing and thanking the audience. Their eyes found Zara one by one, and they bowed again.

“Thank you all for being here,” Namjoon said, though his eyes were on Zara alone, “we will try our hardest. For you.”

Zara nodded to him, her heart soaring for her Boys.

It was particularly gratifying, after all the anxiety and nerves and sacrifices, seeing this dream come to fruition.

It was Ji-yoo, grabbing Zara by the shoulders and shaking her, that pulled her from her thoughts.

“Jungkookie has abs!”

The Boys could hear Zara’s replying laughter from backstage.

@snowythellama @babyboytae1 @stskpop @bewitch3dforivar @peachy---bangtan

Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 3)

Chapter 3

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when you wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities? 

Warnings: Drama, Angst, a lot of Action, smut (later on), and a bad attempt at being humorous 

Warning for this chapter: Reader’s boss is a gross pervert.

Word Count: 2,903 

Taglist: @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @snowythellama (if you want to be tagged, just let me know) :) 

“.... Wait,” Out of every scenario he had prepared for in his head, Namjoon certainly wasn’t expecting you to just up and say how it was ‘cool’. “That’s it? No freaking out? No yelling at how you don’t believe us? Just ‘cool’?” To say they were astonished was an understatement. 

“Yeah it’s cool! I mean you guys were just ordinary men and then out of nowhere you get thrust into a life where you can make people’s lives better just because of a simple good deed? That’s incredible!” you were practically bouncing in your seat, the way your beautiful (e/c) eyes sparkled in admiration distracting them for longer than they’d care to admit. 

“So, you’re just going to believe that we gave you powers?” Jimin asked, eyeing you cautiously as you met his gaze. You raised an eyebrow at him, “I woke up to my bed being on fire. If this were some sort of elaborate prank, I would have already killed six out of seven of you.” 

Visibly gulping as they had witnessed firsthand how brutal you can get when you are angry, they didn’t want to have a repeat event: An incident regarding a Halloween prank in which the boys thought it were a good idea to ambush you while wearing Jason Voorhees masks. Items were thrown and shrill screams filled the room. Once you figured out it was just your friends, they all shared a collection of bruises and angry death glares for weeks to come.  

“Now that I think about it,” Yoongi leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees as he observed you. “How could you have possibly gotten your body temperature high enough to start a fire in your own bed?” 

You were really hoping they wouldn’t ask you this question as you remembered the intense dream of a certain group of men who loomed over you as you sat naked and submissive. Whispered breaths, lingering kisses, scorching touches. Constant praises echoed in your ear about how much of a good girl you were as you choked around Namjoon’s cock while Hoseok fingered you from behind, the rest of the boys watching intently as you fell apart. Anyone would spontaneously combust after a dream like that! 

You nervously scratched the back of your neck again, feeling the heat trace its way from your ears to your cheeks, and you were surprised you didn’t burst into flames again. Avoiding their gazes, you prayed to all the higher being that the boys around you couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of you. “Well, I- uh, I.” you fumbled over your words, wracking your brain for an explanation so you wouldn’t have to explain the fact you had a wet dream about them. 

“I-I was dreaming that - uh, I was dreaming that I. . . was abducted by aliens. . . and then they just, ya know, tossed me into the sun,” Even you didn’t believe your story and by the telling of their shit eating grins, they didn’t believe you either. The elders of the group decided to spare you and not coddle you anymore, but you weren’t so lucky with the maknaes. 

“Oooh, did our little (Y/n) have a dirty dream about someone?” There was a teasing lilt to Taehyung’s voice, but it barely masked the jealous undertones, that you obviously didn’t pick up on. You crossed your arms indignantly and pouted. You did in fact have a dirty dream about the men who you’ve come to love and trust over the months you got to know each of them. But were you going to admit that? Absolutely not. 

“Geez, for someone who’s supposed to be older than me, you sure act like a bunch of children.” 

You just realized that they were all older than you, by many more years than you had originally thought. Thinking that Jungkook only had a year on you when you first met, officially deeming you the youngest of your friend group, you didn’t think it were that big of an age gap. Now realizing that he had a couple thousand years on you, you were sorely mistaken. You were like a baby to them. 

Ignoring that little sting to your pride, you rolled your eyes. “And for your information, no I did not have a ‘dirty’ dream. Not that it’s any of your business if I had one anyway.” Well, it technically was their business since it was them who were occupying your less-than-innocent thoughts. 

They finally dropped the subject after teasing you for a few minutes, letting you breathe. The room was filled with the type of silence that wasn’t awkward, but a little tense. It gave you time to actually think about their words. 

You had superpowers. 

You could finally contribute into making the world a better place! 

As you thought about it, you could even feel the energy of your powers surging through your body, making you feel as if you could fly. You couldn’t stop the giddy smile forming on your face even if you wanted to. 

“So,” your voice cut through the silence, seven pairs of eyes focusing their attention on you. You tried to conceal your shaking hands as you practically trembled in excitement about your question. 

“What powers did you give me?” 

~ ~ ~

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” Looking around at all seven men, they gave you encouraging nods.

After explaining to you about the powers you had, the boys thought it would be a good idea to take you to a secluded area in which you could test them out. Deciding on going to a more forested area, away from the city and prying eyes, you found yourself in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by beautiful and tall trees, shielding you even more from other people. The serene sounds of nature flooded your senses and you tuned the boys out to listen some more.

You could hear birds chirping and the wind rustling the branches of the trees and the sounds of the insects crawling through the grass. “Do you guys hear that?” You asked, feeling yourself sway to the rhythm of the light breeze that swept past your face. You felt the tingles of the air from your scalp, all the way to the ends of your toes and you smiled. Looking towards the boys, you found that they were staring back at you with variations of confusion masking their faces. Remembering that you now had more enhanced senses than them, an embarrassed smile graced your features. “Uhm, nevermind.” 

You walked to the center of the clearing, sitting down in the grass and listening for more things. You felt a hand grab your own and came face to face with Jimin. You don’t ever think you’d be able to get used to seeing them so clearly now, being able to pick up on every single gorgeous detail. He was smiling at you, and you could hear your heart picking up to an erratic pace, as you managed a smile of your own. “Tell us what you hear,” is all he said and you let out a breath, beginning to explain what you could hear to the best of your ability. 

You told them that you could hear the sounds of the birds chirping from miles away, how you could smell the water of a small creek, feel the breeze brush against every pore of your face and the thrum of the earth against your fingertips. “It’s incredible,” you breathed. The twinkle in your (e/c) eyes was mesmerising and the way the sun shone on your (s/c) skin made you look ethereal. The boys were speechless. 

Pressing your palms further into the ground, you exhaled, closing your eyes and connecting yourself to the nature around you even more. You felt the pulse of life around you, a strong humming that vibrated your body in a way that made you feel delightfully alive. Opening your eyes, you looked at the grass around you and a sudden instinct possessed you to say only one word; “Grow.” 

The grass around you and your group of friends began to slowly rise, growing taller and taller to all of your astonishment. You urged it to stop with a single command and you don’t think you’ve ever smiled harder in your entire existence. “(Y/n)! your eyes!” one by one, seven heads turned toward you and locked onto your face. You stared back, confused and alarmed at Taehyung’s sudden outburst and looked between each of them for an explanation. Pulling out his phone and opening his camera, Yoongi held it out to you and you choked on your breath as you understood why they were so shocked. 

Instead of the usual (e/c) color, your eyes were completely engulfed by a piercing, glowing white. Not even your pupils were visible. “Wow,” You examined them even more, waiting for something to happen and after a few more moments, they returned back to their natural color. “Holy shit!” 

The boys chuckled and you laughed along with them, standing up in your spot. You contemplated your next move and an idea popped into your mind that had you bouncing like a kid in a candy store. “Ok, I wanna try something,” The look of determination on your face was adorable as you turned to them. “This is either going to work out amazingly, or get me seriously injured. But, that’s why you also gave me healing and regeneration!” You tried your best to convince them - and yourself- that everything was going to be fine. 

“Well. . . ok. But please be careful.” Namjoon said, and you turned your attention to him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “I always am.” you sent him a wink, noticing the way his ears turned a cute shade of pink. 

Holding your hands above your head, you concentrated on the wind blowing against your palms. You probably looked as ridiculous as you felt, but you continued on, wanting to see this through. Nothing was happening, so you dropped your hands with a sigh, moving farther away from the group as they watched you closely. You knew you could do this, you felt the connection thrumming through your blood. But feeling your powers and actually activating them were two different things. 

Closing your eyes once again, you concentrated on the wind blowing around you. Seeking the connection you grasped onto it, taking hold of the wind as if it were a lasso and you felt the potential power in your body. 

Blow, Blow, Blow. . . 

The wind kicked up, swarming your body from all directions, you maneuvered it to be below you. 

Blow, More Power, More wind. . . 

As soon as the thoughts processed in your mind, you were suddenly blasted off the ground due to the wind building up beneath you. The shriek that left your mouth turned into a laugh of exhilaration as you were lifted way beyond the tops of the trees. You could see from miles away. 

Then you came hurtling back to earth. You shrieked (again) and focused on the wind, manipulating it to catch your fall. You thankfully landed safely, however, not so gracefully as you were dropped on your ass. The boys immediately swarmed you, checking to see if you were ok, and you swat each of their hands away, bursting into hysterics. You were bouncing around, babbling about how you can’t believe it actually worked before you were blasted off the ground again, the sound your whooping echoing throughout the forest.

The boys watched as you twirled around, free-falling, and then catching yourself once again, only to bound higher up, traveling to and fro as you gave off the allusion that you could fly. A smile graced each of their lips, as they watched you land and bound off once more. 

“Incredible indeed.” 

~~~

You spent a couple more hours in the forest, testing out the extent of your powers before returning back to the city. The next day, the boys returned to the life of idols and you returned to your job at a local cafe. You were in the back, restocking items when he decided to make an appearance. Your manager, Jaehyun, never seemed to get the hint when you tell him that you’ve never been interested. You’ve had to put up with his wandering hands for so long, not being able to do anything but slap his hand away and stay in an open area so he wouldn’t try anything shady. 

You would have reported him weeks ago, but you needed this job. And until you could find a better paying job, far far away from him, you were here to stay unfortunately. You did your best to ignore him, but you were never so lucky when it came to him. 

“What’s up, sexy?” You cringed at his words. How could someone be so crude, and how could that person be your manager of all people?

“I’m busy, Jaehyun.” You replied, keeping your tone icy and refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Awe, not too busy for me, I hope?” when you didn’t answer him, he snatched the cup out of your hand, forcing you to turn around and to meet his smirk with your scowl. “What do you say I take you out to a movie after work? I heard the new Avengers movie came out. What was it called? Final Game or something?” 

Snatching the cup out of his hand you sneered at him, “Endgame. And no thanks, I’ve already seen it.” Turning back around you continued your work, but you heard his heart beating in his chest, which clued you into the fact that he was still behind you. “Ok, well, how about dinner? Ya know, wine and dine, then I take you back to my place to show you a good time?” You scoffed, choosing to ignore his comment.  

“I have to get back to work.” You snapped, turning so you could finish putting the cups and lids in their places. You thought that he had finally gotten the hint - but of course he didn’t - when you felt a pair of hands place themselves on your waist and not so subtly rub their way down your body.

“You know you want this, sweetheart. So stop denying it. I know that every time you say no, you really mean yes.” His hands began to slide down to the area where you absolutely did not want him to touch.

Was he serious????

You were seething where you were standing and you just hoped that steam wasn’t coming out of your ears as your face practically burned in rage. Snatching his hand before he could unbutton and unzip your pants, you turned around, twisting his hand violently and feeling a tingle of delight when he cried out in pain.

“When a person says no,” you squeezed his hand, listening to him yell and clearly hearing the door opening and a shocked gasp. “They mean NO. They don’t mean ‘yes’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘some other time’. Just because you can’t cope with rejection doesn’t mean you get to take advantage of your workers. I. Am not. Interested. And this is the last time I’m gonna tell you politely. So fuck off!”

You pushed him away from you and made your way back to the door when you felt his hand grab your arm, yanking you back and sneering a “I’m not done with you bitch,” in your face. Out of reflex, you quickly brought your fist up and connected it with his nose. Had this happened before you got your powers, it would have just bruised up. But now with the added strength, you were almost certain he would need surgery after hearing and feeling the crunch when you threw the punch.

Effectively knocking him to the floor, you stepped away and marched to grab your bag and jacket as you knew that you had just quit your job in the most violent way. You were a woman on a mission, ignoring the employees who just stood and watched, some even recording the whole thing, and making your way to the front to leave. You had just gotten to the cash register, almost out the door, when you heard a growl and your ex manager came bursting through the door, cradling his bloody nose and throwing a heated glare your way.

“You just lost your job, you ungrateful little slut! Good luck finding someplace else that would treat you the way we did!” You scoffed at that, steadying your breathing so you wouldn’t end up killing this guy.

“As if I want another job where my boss treated me like a piece of meat and constantly groped me even when I said no! I would rather scrub the leaches out of the devil’s asshole than work for you!”

A stunned silence fell over the entire cafe, and with your final and creative choice of wording, you stormed out the cafe.

Alrighty! So, this is probably long overdue, but I have not been able to find the time to update anything. But on the bright side, I have tons of ideas for stories/one-shots, so look forward to those in the far future. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and let me know what you think! Your feedback is always welcomed! 

Jungle Park [8]

Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 8.5 OR Chapter 9

➜ Words: 7.4k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

To be fair — this wasn’t your idea.   You’re actually not that big on exercise, even if you do enjoy nature from time to time. Plus, the last time you actually worked out was probably back in high school. After you got hit in the face with a flying soccer ball, that was when you decided that sports, working out, and exercise in general weren’t for you.   You swear you can still see the indent of the soccer ball in your cheek if you squint enough in the mirror.   So the employees of the firm shouldn’t be so upset with you. If anything, they should sympathize since you’re hiding your true feelings and plastering a giant smile on your face to bring up the group morale. If they want someone to blame….they should blame Jimin.   But no one would blame sweet, kind Jimin. Not you. Not even Hoseok.   “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Seulgi mutters while staring out the windows as the sceneries pass. She watches the bus’ shadow on the road and feels every bump of the wheels, the long vehicle shaking.   “Oh c’mon, guys!” Jimin stands up in front and turns around, leaning forward on the seat to look at everyone. It’s a pleasant sight to see all his employees in their casual clothes and not the suffocating professional dress code. “It’s the firm’s tradition — the annual team-building-slash-workplace-retreat! It’s going to be so much fun!”   There’s silence. No one seems impressed with the advertisement and you glance across the aisle to where Hoseok is sitting by himself, tapping on his phone, texting while glancing at his watch every so often. He doesn’t contribute to the conversation, preoccupied with work that he somehow prepared in advance during the bus ride. You’re sitting next to Jimin, having discussed the plans for the day.   “I should’ve just skipped or called in sick,” Sunyi murmurs and there’s a hum of agreement that ripples through the group.   “And I would’ve found out.” Jimin smiles happily and it’s creepy when it never quite reaches his crinkled eyes. Then, he sighs. “It’s just a hike! It’s a simple foot trail! And we have lunch for everyone!”   “There’s no trail,” Namjoon suddenly pipes up and everyone, except Hoseok, turns around in their seats to gawk at the legal assistant.   Jungkook’s eyes are wide. “What?”   “I did research. We’re going up a mountain. It’s really intense. They say it’s for experienced hikers.” Namjoon says these things while his expression remains impassive, irises dead, looking out the window like he’s accepted his fate and there’s no way he can fight it. He is utterly hopeless. “It’ll take four hours to go up and four hours to go down. Eight hours of hiking.”   “Dear lord.” Naul is wearing completely black sunglasses, so you aren’t able to read her expression. She leans her head back in the comfortable seat of the bus, maybe to take a nap and conserve her energy.   Jimin bores his eyes at you for help. Part of you doesn’t want anything to do with this, but it’s also your job to boost office morale. So, you stand up, turning around to them. “It’s not that bad! Jimin and I looked into it and we don’t need to go up to the peak of the mountain. The view is already beautiful half-way up and there’s a sightseeing place with picnic tables where we can eat! It’s going to be great! Imagine going to bed tonight and being able to say you climbed a mountain!”   Yoongi’s mouth twitches. “I want to go to bed tonight alive.”   “Can’t exercise, Min?” Sunyi pesters him from across her aisle.   He shifts to her. “Oh trust me, I burn enough calories every night, Lee.”   “What’s that supposed to mean?” The female lawyer lifts her brow.   And he merely smirks, the corner of his lips tugging. “You know exactly what I mean.”   Without waiting or letting another word be spoken, you step in before it spirals into another set of complaints. That and Yoongi is on the borderline of sexual harassment and the last thing you need is to host a private seminar for him...again. Hence, you clear your throat loudly and catch their attention. “We’ll take plenty of breaks and play plenty of team-building games! You won’t even realize time is passing.”   “I kind of need to pee,” Jungkook says.   Everyone ignores him.   “Good thing I decided to wear my hiking boots today.” Seokjin lifts his food much to Namjoon’s dismay who is sitting beside him and now has his friend’s dirty shoe in his lap. “It’s new.”   “I doubt that,” Namjoon bites back even when Seokjin dramatically gasps.   “How intense is this?!” Lisa whirls herself around in hysterics, asking Namjoon instead of you and Jimin, like she trusts the prepared paralegal more than the people who organized this event. She’s right. “I’m wearing sandals!”   Inyoung is full of concern. “I only brought a thin jacket with me.”   “I just got my hair done,” Seulgi adds to the mob of complaints.   “My face is too handsome to be mauled by a bear or pack of wolves,” Jin says for no reason, somehow twisting people’s legitimate worries into a compliment for himself. Namjoon gives him an indignant look.   “Everyone is fine in what they’re wearing!” Jimin attempts to placate his fellow employees, using his cheerful and kind aura to his advantage. “And no bears or wolves are going to maul anyone here.”   For a moment, you wonder what the quiet bus driver thinks of all of this. “Wait,” Dahyun suddenly sits straight, head popping up from the seat in front of her that was blocking her face. “What if we get lost?”   Namjoon turns and pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t worry, I read a survival guide once in high school.”   “And that’s why you had no friends,” Seokjin adds on and Yoongi snickers. The rest ignore him, including Namjoon himself.   “We would need to start a fire for help and secure a water supply.” At least it’s good to know who the leader would be if this little adventure turned to shit. You don’t think Hoseok and Jimin are very good in the wilderness, even if they’re spectacular in court and the judicial system.   “And then a food supply,” Yoongi interjects. “We’ll have to start choosing who to eat. I vote Sunyi.”   “Thanks, fucker.” The girl in question scoffs. “I vote Yoongi.”   “Okay, realistically, we need to look at body fat contents so the rest of us can get the most calories out of it. The most bang for your buck. It would probably take three nights before we make our first sacrifice and roast them over the fire,” Namjoon announces like he’s thought about this for a long time and has an entire list of who to eat in a very specific order. “I believe Jungkook would be the best choice.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes nearly fall out his sockets. “W-What?”   “Do we just roast him or do we make them into a stew?” Seokjin genuinely asks.   “This is disgusting!” Lisa screams before Namjoon can reply.   Seulgi is equally appalled. “What’s wrong with you?!”   “Okay!” Jimin tries to get control of the group. “Okay, okay!”   “No one is going to eat anyone!” you shout loudly, throwing it out there for good measure like it wasn’t obvious in the first place. “Cannibalism is definitely against company policy! Right?”   “Yes!” Jimin exclaims after exchanging a look with you since there really isn’t anything about cannibalism in the firm’s policy. Though it doesn’t take much effort to be on the same page. “You will get fired if you eat each other.”   “I don’t think it would matter at that point if we keep our jobs or not,” Naul murmurs from the corner of her red lips and you still don’t know if her eyes are closed or not with her dark sunglasses. Frankly, you’re surprised she was listening to all this nonsense.   Yoongi agrees. “It’s about survival.”   “Hey, can someone pass the sunscreen?” Dahyun hands it over to Inyoung, interrupting the conversation with something more important.   Yoongi nabs every opportunity he has and once again, leans over to bother the living daylights out of Sunyi. “Need me to apply some to your back?”   “I will bite your fingers off,” she spits at him.   “That’s hot.”   “Y/N!” The lawyer raises her hand in the air, childishly tattling to you and in front of everyone else. Yoongi laughs heartily and you’ve never seen him more joyful. It’s kind of funny how he finds such bliss in simple things….which is bothering Sunyi to death. “I’d like to file an official harassment complaint immediately.”   “Yoongi.” You use your authoritative voice. “Stop it.”   “Got it,” he responds.   Problem solved.   “Cut it out, you two,” Jimin sighs and collects his composure again. He scans the premise and everyone’s faces. “Look everyone, whether you like it or not, we’re going on this hike. So, you can go grumbling with a frown or you can go with a smile. It’s up to you.”   It’s finally quiet for a moment as if everyone is accepting the circumstances and how they got here. Except, Taehyung breaks the peaceful silence with a thought. “Is it bad I didn’t bring any water with me?”   //   It’s surprisingly quite nice outside. The weather is not too hot or cold, rather mild with a warm breeze that kisses against your cheeks every so often. There’s not many people at the base of the mountain and there’s somewhat of a dirt path to take. At least it’s not in the middle of nowhere where you’d actually have to eat Jungkook if things become dire enough. Even if something happened, there would be a rescue search. Probably.   There’s a sign at the entrance, a cafe and gift shop off to the side, and two volunteers that give you a brochure on the history and landscape of the area. Everyone’s enjoying themselves for the first ten minutes before setting out, taking bathroom breaks (which Jungkook runs to) and bringing up their blood sugar by having snacks. In the meanwhile…   “I’ll take that.”   Jimin steals Hoseok’s phone right out of his grasps. “Wait. I’m almost done. I’m finishing a draft that I need to submit on Monday. I’m serious. Jimin!”   It’s a bit odd to see the usually intimidating lawyer at a loss and trying to convince his partner, but you’re also aware of the rumours that Jimin can be much more frightening than Hoseok.   “I’m going to lose my shit,” he warns in a low tone, out of earshot distance from everyone else. “What’s the name of our firm?”   “Are you serious?”   “Answer me.”   “Jung and Park.”   “Exactly.” Jimin looks proud and smiles. “It’s you and I. So we gotta both be part of this, alright? You are a partner of this firm, just as much as I am. Let me remind you of one very important quote...we’re all in this together.”   “Please don’t break out into song,” Hoseok pleads.   Jimin simply pockets his best friend’s mobile device in his own pocket. “It’s not like you’ll even have reception up there. Plus, you can always do this work later. And let’s be honest, you’ll never be done. There’s always work to do.”   “Fine, fine.” He lifts his hands, palm facing forward for mercy. “I’ll be part of this.”   “Good.”   Jung Hoseok is left kicking pebbles underneath his feet, bored and quietly sulking. From a distance, you watch in amusement, finding it hilarious that the workaholic was ripped away from his work like a child was taken of their toy. His lips are downturned, slightly pouted, and you’re about to approach when suddenly the heavy cooler of sub sandwiches is taken from your hands.   “Is this our lunch?” Jungkook asks with a curious look, holding the heavy object with one arm easily and swings it like it doesn’t weigh at least twenty five pounds.   “Yeah.” You reach out to take it back. “No one’s allowed to eat them yet.”   “Oh, I know.” The student lawyer stares at you blankly. “But it’s heavy, right?” And that’s when you realize that he’s carrying it to help you. He’s the only one who offered and he didn’t even need to be asked. You’re caught off guard by his thoughtfulness, but the boy doesn’t seem to think it’s a big deal. Instead, he glimpses at the other tote you’re carrying. “Is that our games?”   “It is. Jimin was pretty adamant about bringing twister.” You decide to let him in on a little secret with a smile and shrug. “I have no idea why or how’d we even play.”   “If we played twister on the mountain, Jin would probably fall off the cliff and die,” he jokes with a laugh. “I don’t think he has insurance coverage on that.”   “Hey!” Seokjin turns around, having been bantering with Namjoon if the hat in front of the gift shop is ugly or not. It’s ugly. “Are you talking trash about me, son?!”   “No!” He speaks up.   You and Jungkook glance at each other, exchanging laughs and cheesy smiles. All in the while, none of you realize that Hoseok is glaring holes on the side of your head.   //   The workplace hiking retreat is Jimin’s special event. He takes the honours of leading the way and holding the map, making sure everyone is going in the right direction while hyping up the line of employees that are trailing after him. You’re left at the very back, making sure that no one (Yoongi) tries to book it in the opposite direction and run away — apparently he tried that one year. But Sunyi assures you she’s got tight reins on him and he’ll be walking all the way up, to which he scowled at and looked like he was about to bite the girl’s head off.   Jungkook waits and walks with you. He decreases his usual large strides for you, slowing down to synchronize your shuffling steps together. You didn’t think you’d be talking to him this much since he always seemed shy with little to say. But here you are, chatting away like old friends and the two of you are unable to stop taking, hitting it off relatively well.   “Taehyung might seem that way, but he’s a great mentor.”   “That’s good.” Now that you think about it, Jungkook never gossips or complains about anyone. He always has something nice to say about each person and you can tell he means it with the sparkling of his big eyes. He gawks at Taehyung who’s ahead with admiration...though you’re not sure if he’s objectively a good role model. “I’m glad you’re not having a hard time.”   “Sometimes it’s difficult. I think I’m still adjusting to the job and there’s a lot I don’t know.” His smooth voice drops down into a whisper. “But I do know that he’s saved me from getting fired by Hoseok a few times.”   You giggle and within ten minutes, somehow the conversation that centered around the job and his current health state morphs to things that have nothing to do about the office. “I can’t believe you pour milk before your cereal. Who even are you?”   “Well, I want a certain amount of milk in my bowl,” the younger male explains with wild gestures of his one hand, attempting to defend himself. “If I put cereal in it first, I’m not sure how much milk there actually is.”   “You just eyeball it. It isn’t that difficult.”   “No, trust me, it’s easier when you pour milk in the bowl first and then the cereal.”   “I don’t even eat cereal.”   Jeon Jungkook gasps out loud like you just offended twenty generations of his family. “What?!”   “Okay.” You hold back several laughs. “Don’t sue me.”   “I think I might have to.” He giggles as well, laughing at how ridiculous this debate is. But the student-at-law is persistent in nature and doesn’t back down. “How can you not like cereal? It’s the best breakfast food ever!”   “It’s bland,” you counter.   “What kind of cereal have you been eating?!” Jin’s dramatics must’ve infected him and you enjoy the theatrics of his arguments. The cool breeze whisks through your hair, the sunshine illuminating the surroundings of pine trees and the dirt path up the incline. But the pair of you don’t admire the sceneries or the premise when you’re busy looking at each other. “Have you ever tried the ones with dried fruit? Like there are cereals with dried strawberries in them.”   “Oh yeah, I love that, but I always end up picking out the strawberries to eat them and then I’m just left with the frosted cereal left.”   He shakes his head. “I should take you to this place I know. It’s a cereal restaurant. They have all kinds of cereal and all kinds of milk and it’s glorious.”   “A cereal restaurant?” Your brows shoot up in skepticism.   “Yeah!” he grins in enthusiasm. “Have you ever heard of it?”   “No, I haven’t.”   “It’s so good! I could take—”   “Is there a water bottle in there, Kook?” There’s an interruption that doesn’t come from you nor Jungkook. You turn and Hoseok’s in front of you both, having stopped without the rest of the group realizing and going on ahead. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, putting down the cooler and opening it.   “Didn’t you bring your own?” you ask in surprise since it came out of nowhere.   “I finished it.”   “Already?!” An entire water bottle this earlier on? You wonder how thirsty he might’ve been or if he was dehydrated.   The lawyer merely cocks his head to one side. “Is that a problem?”   “Only if you have to pee later.”   Jungkook hands him the new bottle and he uncaps it, taking another sip before sticking it in his black tracksuit jacket, somehow fitting the entire thing in the pocket. “Thanks.”   Part of you expects him to be on his way, but for some reason Hoseok sticks around, on your other side and joins your walk. It’s not like you mind, but it seems like Jungkook is uncomfortable that his boss is right there and conversations of cereal-first-or-milk-first, pineapple-pizza-or-not, or if-it’s-okay-to-pee-in-the-shower, they all cease to exist.   You clear your throat, glaring at Hoseok from the corner of your eye. It’s not everyday that you get to chat with Jungkook or get to know him better or get to the deeper concerns, and Hoseok was really ruining this for you. Yet, he remains undeterred. Maybe he’s oblivious to your signals or he’s straight out ignoring them. You’re not too sure.   But for the next ten minutes, the three of you walk in complete silence.   You use the opportunity to finally take in the nature. There are trees that stretch beyond the horizon, greenery and gaps of fields seen in your vision. The fresh scent of earth and grass heals your lungs from the metropolis’ pollution. It’s quite pleasant to be away from gas exhaust and the smog. When you’re away from the city, highways of cars and trucks, it’s quiet and peaceful. You can hear chickadee birds, rabbits hopping, buzzing of wildlife.   Eventually, Jimin stops everyone at the first checkpoint.   “Okay, gather up, everyone!” He secures his round, taupe hat that reminds you of an explorer. You suppose this is the most adventure Jimin ever gets when he’s away from the concrete jungle. “I hope the half-hour trip hasn’t been too brutal but it’s time for our first set of team building games!”   “What is it?” Yoongi asks right off the bat to not waste any more time.   “Trust falls!” Jimin announces with a half-moon smile. “On the edge of this cliff.”   “.....”   “I’m joking!” The lawyer is the only one who laughs. “We’re playing charades.”   Dahyun raises her hand and he calls on her. “How is this supposed to contribute to team building?”   “Fantastic question! It’s team building because you have to work together to answer correctly and you’re also reading body language which helps with everything. Y/N, sketchbook, please.”   You immediately dig for the prepared sketchbook with words written inside of them and you hand it to the lawyer who nods in appreciation. He continues much to the chagrin of the others. “And now I will divide the entire group into two. Right...there. Yes, now pretend there’s an imaginary line. You guys are team one.” He turns towards your direction. “And you are team two. Team one goes first. One at a time, someone will face me and act it out and the rest of you face away from me and guess. No cheating. No speaking for the person acting. Ready?”   You sit on the sidelines, Jimin having enough mercy to let you take a break. Jungkook was divided on team one and you watch the game go on as Hoseok stands beside you.   “You know,” he speaks up, “Jungkook is like eight years younger than you.”   “So?” You shift to him with a lifted eyebrow, suddenly annoyed with what he might or might not be implying. “What does that have to do with anything, Jung Hoseok? What are you trying to say?”   “N-nothing. Never mind.” He looks away from you, sighing. “...I’m sorry.”   In the background, Sunyi is flapping her arms wildly and Yoongi is throwing out guesses without letting anyone else guess, saying absurd things like ‘synchronized swimming’, ‘an idiot’, ‘someone sad with no love life’. She gets frustrated and screams at him, “I’M A BIRD!”   Jimin docks a point for cheating.   “What's the matter?”   “Nothing.”   “Well, there’s obviously something,” you persist while staring at Hoseok’s profile. He’s still sulking and you don’t understand what he’s trying to say. “Is it because Jimin took away your phone? I can get him to give it back to you. It isn’t that big of an issue.”   “No.” A staggering exhale spills from the seams of his lips. “That’s not it. It’s nothing, okay?”   You decide to back off his case. “Alright.”   Seokjin is up for acting now and he makes a rectangle shape with his hands. Yoongi guesses ‘circle’ to add to his frustration and Sunyi physically shoves Yoongi to get him to stop. Jin pretends to put the rectangle shape on an imaginary wall and then he points to his eyebrows and then makes an ‘x’ shape with his arms.   Everyone is stumped. He does it again. No answers.   Seokjin stops his foot and cries out, “I want a new team!”   The word is ‘Mona Lisa’.   The game is probably the reverse of team building. It’s ripping friendships apart.   But you can’t focus on watching when there’s a thick, smothering silence between you and the man standing beside you. No one lets a syllable slip or makes a sound. Your lips are sealed tight and you force yourself not to gawk at him. It’s terribly awkward, but you refuse to address it.   “I’m not upset or mad or anything.”   Hoseok is the first to step forward and you finally turn to him. “I never said anything.”   “You get quiet when you think I’m angry.”   “Psh.” The corner of your mouth pulls. “Who said?”   “No one. I just noticed.” He gazes into your eyes and softens his own. The other employees are preoccupied in either participating or observing and laughing. Behind them, it’s just you and him, a bubble of privacy that is uninterrupted. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. Maybe it’s the outdoors affecting me…”   “I doubt that.” You give a tiny laugh. “You love nature.”   “Who said?” Now he’s the one asking and his expression remains blank, frowning slightly.   “Uh...Jimin.” You nod. “He told me about it.”   “Yeah, I’ve always wanted a house with a massive backyard. I would’ve set up the office in the woods if it were possible.”   “Except, there are too many mosquitoes.”   “Yup.” He gives one of the brightest smiles, rival to the sun itself. The atmosphere has returned back to normal, one where you feel like you’re able to joke around just a little bit with him. “That’s the only issue. The mosquitoes.”   When team one is done, it’s time for your own team to go. Since you were the one who wrote all the words in the sketchbook, you don’t get to participate. You’re left holding the sketchbook, but you don’t mind too much when Namjoon is pointing straight up and doing jazz hands and stomping around and people are guessing sun and clouds, but never outer space.   It’s especially hilarious to watch Hoseok reluctantly participate. He holds both his hands in tiny circle shapes and begins to thrust them back and forth towards his open mouth, interchanging his hands. Everyone pales and becomes horrified at the suggestive movements. On the other hand, Jimin bursts out laughing, so hard that his body folds in half and he’s clutching his stomach, unable to be a referee and you’re worried he might not watch where he’s going and fall off the cliff.   The word is ‘flossing’.   In the end, Hoseok is the one who gets most into the game. He’s screaming and pointing and howling when someone gets close, causing the team to be pressured to get it right. He also makes wild guesses, enthusiastically and eagerly like he’s a youthful twenty-year old again.   “Alright guys! That was great. Team one has six points and team two is in the lead with ten! Next set of games, we’ll be mixing up the teams, so don’t get too comfortable.”   Dahyun raises her hand and he calls on her. “But then how will you keep track of points?”   “Fantastic question. I’ll wing it.” Before anyone can question him, he spins on his toes and begins pointing off into the distance, explaining where they’re heading and telling his employees to enjoy the beautiful scenery.   Jungkook ends up getting wrangled in by Taehyung, joining the banter with him, Namjoon, and Inyoung. He’s still holding onto the cooler and instead, you’re accompanied by Hoseok who stays by your side.   “What is that?” He peeks inside the tote you’re carrying.   “Puzzles.” And at the expression he gives you, you give one in return that conveys ‘Jimin organized this, not me’. He ends up taking the bag, not to examine further, but to—   Actually....you’re not sure why he takes it, but you don’t even think twice about it. All you know is that the muscles in your shoulder aren’t so tense anymore.   As groups and clusters of employees are chatting and hiking, Naul who was talking to Jimin finally tugs down her black sunglasses and her jaw drops. “Oh my god.”   They stop and the others skid to a halt before they bump into each other. You exchange expressions with Hoseok, not sure what’s going on before Lisa gasps, “It’s BTS.”   “What?”   “What?!”   You look past the crowd to see another group heading straight down the mountain, parallel to you, marching in an orderly line with long sticks in their hands. They look like professional hikers with full on backpacks and hats and they’re all smiling at each other like there’s no other place they’d rather be. There’s a ripple of quiet that passes through the people that make Jung and Park.   “Who’s BTS?” You lean over to Hoseok, whispering lowly.   “Big. Top. Solicitors,” he tells you in a spiteful manner. “They’re one of the biggest firms in the city and they have multiple departments in all sorts of things. So, they deal with tax law, criminal, personal injury and...of course….family law. They’re our biggest competitors.”   “Oh. I applied to work there. They even gave me an interview.” You remember and you quickly retract when Hoseok stares. “But they never called me back. A loss for them, right?”   You can recall it well. Their office building was magnificent and seemed straight of what you would expect in a high-budget television show. If you were nervous for the interview at Jung and Park, you were swimming in your sweat for the interview at BTS. In that way, you’re glad you never got a call back. You’re sure you would have never felt comfortable at that job.   By the time Hoseok is finished explaining and your little anecdote is given, they’ve closed the gap and realized who it was that faced them. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jung and Park.”   “What are you doing here, Jackson?” Jimin has a standoff with the partner of the opposing firm. It reminds you of a gun showdown from back in the day when two big names were on the same turf and fought to become dominant.   “We’re having an extended weekend for our employees,” he says with a smirk. The man is handsome and you wonder how he can climb an entire mountain and look like that. Even his jacket is crisp. If he was wearing a fitted, black suit, you’re sure Lisa who’s purposely looking away at the moment would piss herself, you included. “You’re only starting now? Guess you were trying to avoid that afternoon sun, huh?”   The condescending tone has Jimin’s eyes narrowing. “Why does it matter to you?”   “It doesn’t.” The male rolls his shoulders and the employees behind him seem to be staring daggers into your soul. “It’s just that we started at six in the morning and we made it all the way up to the peak. We even walked through lunch and now I’m treating everyone to an Italian restaurant. It’s nothing. But it’s pretty cute that you’re doing this too.”   “That’s actually really nice that you’re treating your employees.” Jimin smiles and it never quite reaches his eyes. “You must be pretty comfortable even after losing the Yoo case.”   A muscle in Jackson’s cheek twitches and had you not been staring, you might’ve missed it. “Don’t worry, we’re still comfortable. Unlike you, losing one case won’t hurt us. We have plenty more cases to work on.”   Satisfied, he brushes past him and walks down. It reminds you of petty high school movies where the crowd of popular kids would make fun of the underdogs. It’s a bit funny to see grown adults acting in such childish manners, but you don’t say anything. Instead, Jackson stops and turns to Hoseok once before going on his way. “You might have to pick up the pace, Jung. If you want to make it there before the sun goes down.”   “See you in court on Tuesday, Wang.”   When they’ve followed the curve of the mountain and disappear from sight, everyone is on their way again. But the steps seem slower, shuffling more against the gravel. Inyoung is the first to begin speaking again. “Did they really make it up and down in seven hours?”   “Only regular hikers make that amount of time.” Namjoon makes an objective statement, disregarding his own bias. “It’s pretty impressive.”   “Nothing’s impressive about them,” Sunyi mutters and it’s loud and clear. “I’d rather work for a smaller firm that actually cares about me than a larger firm who thinks I’m just one of their chess pieces.”   Taehyung lifts his head, having watched the dirt. “Did we never hear what happened to Wang Kwangsoo? Did he even go to court?”   “No, the lawsuit got buried and then he retired. He’s probably at some vacation villa right now living it up.” Yoongi remains impassive, but you can see the irritation in his expression, and a few others scoff when they’re reminded. “No one knows what happened to the victims, if they were paid or if something happened to them.”   Inyoung shakes her head. “That’s…”   “Disgusting,” Naul finishes.   “It’s not like we can prosecute him,” Hoseok says bleakley, but you know it’s from good intention. There's no point of being furious or having your blood pressure spike for someone who doesn’t deserve it in the least bit. “Take your anger and use it on cases where we can actually win. That’s the least we can do.”   “Yeah.” Sunyi nods in agreement and there’s a moment of silence before her voice continues in a hesitant murmur. “You know…..he might be a piece of shit…..but his son is really something else.”   “Right?!” Lisa whirls her head over. “That boy is one fine feast.”   “Oh my god.” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Are you guys serious? Look at me! I’m much more handsome than Jackson.”   “I heard he’s running the firm a lot differently than his dad,” Seulgi pipes up and everyone else ignores Seokjin’s woes. “Like they recently had a huge purge and a bunch of people that were working under his dad got fired. He’s remodeling the entire hierarchy.”   “Don’t let appearances deceive you,” Naul warns. “We never know what’s really going on. But….I agree. He seems a lot better than his disgusting father. Again, we’re comparing him at a very low bar here.”   Even with Naul pointing out that the standard is low, Lisa sighs wistfully. “Kind, rich, handsome. A dream, right?”   “And they hiked like professionals.” Namjoon’s still hung up on it much to the dismay and surprise of others.   Jin lifts an eyebrow. “Who cares?”   “They beat the estimated time!” He stresses with wild gestures. “It’s really impressive, you just don’t understand. They made it all the way up and down. Only real hikers that go on the regular can do that.”   Throughout the entire conversation, Jimin remains unusually quiet. You���re about to pick up the pace to meet him and check to see if he’s okay. But then he turns around and stops. Dahyun asks if this was the second checkpoint and you find it odd that he would stop to do an activity in the middle of the dirt road like this. “Good question like always, Dahyun. Yes, this is our next activity.”   You’re about the pull out the puzzles—   “Everyone take a look at who you’re standing closest to. That’s going to be your buddy.”   You glance beside you and Hoseok’s staring right at you. Everyone quickly links up. Dahyun with Lisa, Sunyi and Yoongi glaring holes into each other’s skulls, Jin and Namjoon naturally beside one another, Taehyung that throws his arm around Jungkook’s, and Naul that joins up with Inyoung.   Jimin grins. “From now on, this is a race. First pair up the mountain wins.”   “Wait.” Lisa freezes. “What?!”   You’re as shocked as the receptionist is and you step up with a frown. “Jimin, this isn’t a part of—”   “It is now!” There’s a competitive fire that ignites behind his brown irises. Ideas of cooperation and team building have been thrown out the window. Jackson must’ve gotten to him. “Don’t you want to beat the record? I know we can do it!”   There’s an automatic sea of complaints, people threatening to just turn around and go home while others consider just sitting on the side of the road until someone comes to their rescue.   “That’s too far!” Sunyi points out one of the handful of problems.   “Fine! We’ll race to the halfway point and stop for lunch!” Jimin quickly spits it out before there are more protests, and then he scrambles for additional incentives. “First one up to the halfway point gets two more vacation days and a thousand dollar bonus.”   “What?” Jin’s jaw goes slack.   Taehyung’s already grinning. “What?!”   Hoseok throws it out there— “I didn’t agree to this!”   “Don’t worry,” Jimin reassures his partner. “I’m going to win and no one will get it. Ready, set, go!”   It’s completely spontaneous and chaos breaks loose. Jimin grabs Seulgi, the closest person to him and who’s automatically his buddy, and she screams when he begins sprinting up the steep incline of the mountain.   “Let’s go, Jeon!” Taehyung also begins running after a few beats and Jungkook’s doe eyes are large in surprise, but when his legs begin to run, he beats his mentor in sheer speed while he’s miraculously still holding onto the cooler. You wonder if he did track and field back in the day or was a competitor for some kind of Olympic game.   “I need that bonus!” Naul dashes off as well and Inyoung struggles. Lisa abandons her friends to book it in her thin sandals while hollering something about those vacation days.   “Namjoon!” Seokjin yells behind his shoulder. “Move your slow ass!”   Yoongi and Sunyi put away their rivalry for a moment, the most serious and cooperative you’ve ever seen from both of them. They whip their bodies through the air without saying more than a word to each other and after a while, Yoongi snatches Sunyi’s hand, helping her run faster or launching her forward, you’re not too sure. All you know is that you’re soon left in the dust.   This is the most enthusiastic you’ve seen everyone all day. You can’t help but smile, even if it’s all a bit ridiculous and the plans have been spoiled. It’s kind of nice to see everyone so involved and eager to make it. Maybe you and Jimin should’ve thought about incentives, aside from lunch, from the beginning.   “Are we going to run?” You turn to Hoseok who is stuck in his spot like a statue with his mouth wide open, wholly stunned at Jimin’s antics. “....no one’s supposed to get a thousand dollars, right?”   “You’re right.”   And that’s how the both of you begin jogging. It’s a steady speed, but it’s your strategy to win. Running out of energy is the last thing you want, so you try your best to maintain a stable speed. Once in a while, you can hear Hoseok swearing underneath his breath and you have to repress some laughter. Higher, higher, higher. On your way up, you run into Seokjin and Namjoon who are slugging along, dragging their heavy legs. They bicker about why the other person can’t keep running, yet each is out of breath and out of shape. You also find Inyoung and Dahyun who have been abandoned by their partners and are walking together.   Eventually, after twenty minutes of jogging and passing by Lisa and Naul as well, Hoseok and you decide to take a break. Well...more like your lungs were dying and you were gasping for breath and something internally in your intestines wasn’t feeling well and Hoseok took one glimpse at you and stopped.   “I can’t believe he did this,” Hoseok sits on the ground, leaning back and tipping back his head to let the uncapped water bottle bring a cool stream to his lips. His jawline is sharp, sweat dripping off his black hair and you wonder how the hell it’s so unfair he looks this good drinking water. But you quickly shake the thought away, trying to chug your own water bottle and replenish your system.   “We still have three more pairs to beat.” You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Jimin and Seulgi, Sunyi and Yoongi, and Taehyung and Jungkook.” And it astonishes you that Jungkook is still carrying the entire cooler with him while sprinting like Usain Bolt. What kind of monster was he?   Hoseok grins, letting out an exasperated ‘yeah’ while nodding tiredly. He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back and out of his eyes. “If he doesn’t win, I’m going to have some serious problems.”   After another moment, finally rehydrated and rested, you tear your eyes away from the vivid azure shade of the sky towards him. “Ready to go again?”   “Ready if you are.” He smiles and you help him to his feet, letting go of his hand just as quickly. “We can walk for a bit to build that energy up again before we start jogging.”   “Sounds good.” You’re thankful since you don’t know if you can keep up with him.   “It’s been a long time since I exercised like this,” he muses while your steps naturally sync together.   “Same here.” You peek at the lawyer. “Are you okay though?”   “I’m fine.” He meets your eyes. “Why?”   “You’re afraid of heights, right?” From the distance, the once large pine trees appear more like broccoli and you’re getting closer and closer to the clouds. Luckily, the breeze is cool and the sun isn’t beating down on you like earlier. But as pretty as the scenery and how pleasant the weather is, it’s still a far way down. Off the dirt and stones you’re walking on is a steep drop. You’re certain the sharp rocks would puncture your body like a sword if you fell.   “Yeah,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “I am.”   You can’t help but tease him further. “You’re also afraid of spiders, ants, ladybugs, moths, any kind of bug really, and roller coasters and snakes—”   “Okay, that’s enough.” He playfully glares at you, lips pouty and cute.   “It’s okay.” You comfort him and fail to hide your wide smile. “No one has to know you’re a scaredy cat. Your secret is safe with me.”   “I am not a scaredy cat.” Hoseok grins, lips sort of mimicking a heart shape, his presence radiant like the sunshine itself. “I’m the bravest.”   Suddenly, a sickening wave overcomes your body. “OH MY GOD!” A blood-curdling shriek rips from your throat and you point in the distance, at a loss for words.   “WHAT?”   And you laugh like crazy when he actually physically jumps and turns around. Jung Hoseok shifts back around to you, absolutely unimpressed with your little prank. “Don’t do that! I’m serious!”   “I didn’t know you would fall for it!”   “I will sue you for causing me mental trauma and distress.”   “Go ahead,” you egg him on. “It’s not like I have money to give you monetary compensation.”   You’re still giggling, tears accumulating in your eyes and choking out the remaining giggles. Your face aches from smiling so much and you most certainly don’t pay attention when the terrain becomes rockier, less dirt and more of tiny pebbles.   All at once, your left foot loses traction.   You feel your body slipping forward without permission, knees buckling, as if you’re on ice, ready to tumble and roll off the edge. But at the speed of light, Hoseok grabs your arm, stabilizing you and saving you from death. You look up at him, laughter dying off your lips. He’s held you tight, but still gentle like he’s afraid of squeezing too hard.   And the man gazes into your eyes.   “Watch where you’re going, stupid,” he murmurs after a moment of complete silence.   “Stupid?” You’re baffled, unable to help the pout that takes over your face.   Hoseok lets go of you and you both resume walking. He ganders off at the scenery and the breeze cards through his locks, stands of dark hair moving past his brows. You can’t resist tearing your eyes away to anything else but him. The way he persists, the way he helped you without a moment’s breath, like it was a reflex, like it’s so entirely casual for him to react that way.   Why—   Your thoughts are interrupted when Hoseok suddenly lurches forward. His shoe is caught on a stick and he nearly eats a mouthful of dirt. But his arms flail like a tightrope walker and he stumbles forward four steps, miraculously catching balance. You laugh loudly.   So much for being a hero.   Hoseok immediately turns to you, embarrassed and cheeks burning red when he was trying so hard to look cool. You grin, reaching down and taking his hand. Your fingertips brushing lightly on his until he uncurls them and lets you slip your hand into his.   There’s no reason, only because…   “It’s safer. Wouldn’t want you to take a fall and be injured. I don’t think Jung and Park can run without you.”   He grumbles, but the man walks closer to you. “You’d become a murder suspect.”   You scoff. “No, I’d be a witness.”   “Not with the evidence stacked up against you like this. They’d think you pushed me.”   “Keep it up and I’ll actually push you,” you threaten him and he laughs with another one of those massive grins.   Both your palms are clasped together, his down-facing and yours up. The heat of his palm presses on yours, arms moving together as you continue the upward trek. You hope he can’t feel how nervous you are or how you’ve become hyper-conscious of his presence. But it’s odd.   Behind innocent anxiousness, there’s a fuzzy feeling that you haven’t experienced for years now. It makes you feel at peace and panicked at the same time. But the way you hold his hand seeks and gives comfort.   “Then I’ll take you down with me.”   Hoseok holds your hand tightly and even gives it a squeeze.   You wonder if it’s a mistake to want this to last forever.

Chapter 4 - History, Hentai, and Hickeys

Pairing - OT7 x Reader, Some Member x Member

Genre - Eventual Smut, Angst, Fluff

A/N - Sorry there’s a lot of backstory in this one - Admin Lily

The rest of the day after the locker room incident was relatively calm. No one came up to Jungkook about it or teased him about anything at all. Taehyung’s reputation really stretched across the school. If he didn’t want something talked about, then it wouldn’t be. The only people he couldn’t control were: Bangtan Sonyeondan. Sometimes they are called the bulletproof boys or BTS, but no one calls them by their official titles, however. ‘Hall monitor’ just doesn’t have a ring to it or sound nearly as cool as BTS. After a *minor* incident with campus police a few years back, the school decided to create a group of peers that students could talk to if they weren’t comfortable talking to campus police or if they knew it wasn’t a big enough deal to take legal action. There are two groups, one all-male and one all-female.

Both groups interact with students to make the campus feel safer and more comfortable for everyone. At least that’s what the school board would tell you if you asked what their purpose was. If you asked BTS or Weki Meki what their job was, they would say to party harder than everyone else and to make sure everyone has a good time. Weki Meki didn’t have as strong of a reputation as BTS. The ego boost from the first round of boys initiated into the group never seemed to fade away. The original girls weren’t as rambunctious as the guys, and the expectations for the next generation became set in stone and haven’t changed since. Undoubtedly, the girls still know how to party, but they didn’t let the title go to their heads as much as the boys did. Requirements to get into either group are brutal. Applicants must be prettier than a 7.8, (yes a whole scale was made to ensure that no one ever slipped up and became too ugly to be considered a face of the school), you had to shotgun three beers in a row, be voted in by one of the existing members, and lastly show up to class. The last one seemed like the sanest qualification; however, ‘hall monitors’ were enrolled in a course specifically for their meetings. It made sense to create an hour where kids could go speak to them and get help, quickly it turned into a gossip hour, and people rarely went in to see them. Bangtan even stopped letting people into their meetings so they could only talk amongst themselves. It took quite a bit of convincing to allow them to do so, but every member of BTS is an athlete and simply got all their coaches to convince the dean that using their hour to talk to each other would make solving students issues into a group effort and people could approach them in a more private manner, promoting honestly. Now, at first, the dean shook off the request. The dean wasn’t on board until the group agreed to change the names of students to protect their confidentiality. Overall this sounded like a good plan, but Bangtan never really enforced the confidentially of students with the other boys. Right now BTS included, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook got in because Taehyung was a part of it, and he wanted an excuse to see him more. He was going to try to interact with the other boys, but once he heard the way they talked about women, he decided to just spend his time at the meetings in the corner sitting on Taehyung’s lap. Most days, he’s making out with him, especially if Taehyung’s icy blue hair was still curly after his morning shower. Yoongi stayed in the back away from everyone. He was usually playing on his Gameboy color (It was the grey one, not his hot pink one decorated with stickers, that one stayed hidden in his room where no one would find it) and listening to hard rap on his air pods. Namjoon rarely appeared at the meetings at all. No one really noticed or cared to kick him out of the club for not showing up. He was the son of one of the board members and could do whatever he wanted. He was usually practicing tennis. If he cared to show up, he’d be sketching in his notebook, contributing one or two crude comments to the three remaining boys’ discussions. 

Today was worse than ever. Yoongi was sulking in the corner as usual. Namjoon was actually there and immersed in his drawings. Taehyung and Jungkook were busy were eating each other’s faces, not giving a single fuck about who could see them. Not that any of them really were bothered because they did that almost every day now. Hoseok and Seokjin were mindlessly playing on their phones, waiting for Jimin to arrive. He was notorious for being late, and today was no exception. Around ten minutes after the meeting was supposed to start, he finally burst through the door. 

“Sorry guys, I was a little caught up.” Said Jimin, slightly out of breath. 

“Man, I can see right through you. You’re a soccer player for God’s sake.” Said Seokjin while putting down his phone and shaking his head at the younger boy. 

Jimin settled into his usual spot, taking off his jacket and setting his bag down next to him. “What on Earth do you mean, Jin?” 

“We all know that you and Yoojung were fucking in some empty classroom, or her car, or wherever like you do practically every Thursday,” Hoseok said, setting down his phone and smirking at Jimin. 

“WHAT NO I WASN’T!” Jimin uttered in the most sarcastic tone he possibly could. Laughing by the end of the sentence, not able to keep up his concerned act. 

Seokjin shoved him, and suddenly perked up to say, “Anyway now that Jimin is here, I can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer.” 

“Oh, and what might that be, Jin?” Jimin said, leaning forward, on one hand, to listen in closer to his next words.

However, Seokjin got up and said: “WELL, someone here has got a pretty large secret resting right on their neck.” He slammed both hands down on Namjoon’s shoulders, causing him to jump and smudge his drawing.

“DUDE!!!” Namjoon said, “You ruined my drawing...” His voice, trailing off as he attempted to use his kneaded eraser on the smudged charcoal. 

“Oh whatever, you’re probably just drawing hentai anyway,” Jin said, lifting his hands off his shoulders. He shot a fake look of concern to the other boys who were stifling their laughter. 

“W-WHAT I WASNT DRAWI-” Namjoon tried to defend himself before Jin cut in. 

“I don’t care about your mediocre drawings, motherfucker. I care about the massive fucking hickey on your neck.” He teased. 

“Wait a minute, you have to be joking,” Jimin said as he leaped out of his chair to investigate the nervous boy’s neck.

“Please, guys i-its nothing, just forget about all this and let me just sit here and draw, you know I have to be in here at least once a week, I won’t be here tomorrow just, just please let it go.” Namjoon pleaded, his eyes darting to each of the boys now crowding him. They were pulling at the collar of his letterman jacket, succeeding in discovering the bluish, purple bruise decorating the lower part of his neck. If they were to see the ones covering his chest, they would realize that it was much smaller in comparison. 

“Oh, Joonie, you simply have to tell us who’s rocking your world this month. It’s just not fair that you get to hear about our conquests, and we don’t get to hear yours.” Hoseok said through a taunting grin.

“Exactly, and don’t spare any dirty details,” Jimin said, wiggling his eyebrows and giggling through his smile. All the boys’ stares were making Namjoon squirm even more in his chair. 

“Come on guys, I can’t, I don’t wanna do that to her.” He said, standing quickly to try and escape the threatening situation.

“Not so fast, lover boy.” Hoseok made it to the door before he could make it out. “You weren’t acting like this last month. In fact, you were blabbing nonstop about some particularly flexible redhead...” 

Namjoon sighed, sitting back down at the closest desk. His head rested in his hands for a minute before he finally sat back in his chair. “Her name was Megan, Hobi, and she wasn’t that great if she wasn’t bending over,” Namjoon said. He couldn’t help grinning when the other boys got riled up again. 

“That’s right, he’s back!! Come on, tell us about this new girl then, even though I admit, I’d still love to talk about Megan some more.” Jimin said. 

“Really?” Jin said, “I think I’ve heard so much these past weeks, It feels like I’ve slept with her.” He pulled up a chair to gather around Namjoon, who was actually looking quite smug. 

“You definitely haven’t, Jin. There’s so much more that she could do that Joonie didn’t tell you both. He is right about her being a bore outside the bedroom, though.” Hoseok said, leaning against the door frame.

“WHAT?!? Wait, off-topic, Joonie was about to open up about who opened up.” Jin said with a wink. 

“Actually, I’m not. This girl is different. I really like her, and I don’t want to mess this up.” Namjoon mumbled, picking at a loose string on his t-shirt.

“Ohhhhhh shit, is Namjoonie catching feelings??” Jimin sang in a teasing and childish voice. He started poking Namjoon’s arm repeatedly. “Come on, just tell us her name.” 

An eruption of “Please, please, please, please” and “Come on you have to” arose from the three teasing boys. 

“You know what, no I’m not fucking telling you guys. Now just fuck off.” Said a blushing Namjoon, as he pushed his way out of the classroom. 

“Goddamn, he is absolutely whipped,” Jin said, laughing off the sudden outburst. 

“Goddamn is right,” Hoseok said, gazing out the now opened door. Everyone in the hall looked away after a few seconds. Everyone except one girl who was staring directly into the classroom, utterly shocked. 

The other boys looked out to see her. After a few seconds of just glancing at one other, Jin winked at her, causing her to look away finally. Hoseok shut the door after that and sat back down. 

“Who the hell is that?” Said Hoseok, still looking at the small window in the door. She could still be seen talking to her friends and is visibly blushing now. 

“I have no idea she must be new this year, a freshman.” Jimin trailed off, staring out the window as well. 

They sat in silence for a few seconds, just looking out at the cute new girl across the hall. She eventually walked away, but not before gazing back into the window and winking back at the boys. 

“DIBS!” They yelled unanimously, causing them to finish the meeting, arguing about the mysterious new face in their hallways.

Pairing: hoseok x female reader

Genre: phoenix!AU, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: intercourse, oral (male and female), loss of virginity (female), major character death (non-descriptive)

A/N: Here it is, my first fic on this account. I’m so excited to debut my writing on here and even more excited to do it as part of a collab full of wonderful writers (many of whom I look up to). If you would like to check out their contributions to Cryptaesthesia, the link is here. I hope you enjoy and please, please, please leave feedback. Love ya!!

“Don’t forget to remind your parents about the conferences.”

You watched fondly as your hoard of kindergartners ran off to greet their respected parent or guardian. Your smile widened, quietly observing them excitedly explaining the events of their day. You loved your job and you loved your kids. Each one was special in their own unique way: Ella built towers with anything she could get her hands on, Lucas was the master painter and Bianca and Taylor were the Double Dutch queens.

You were familiar with most of the parents as well. There was the group of ‘Mean Girl’ moms who actively shamed anyone who gave their kids so much as a cookie. Rachel and Elliot Kasper were the young, dreamy couple who were so in love it was disgusting. Mrs. Wells was the Master of the Bake Sales, who made the best chocolate chip cookies you’d ever had. And then there was Kim Taehyung: the hot single dad with eyes of honey and a heart of gold. He had moved to the states a few years ago with his daughter Jisoo, and you couldn’t exactly blame the moms who would swoon over him at PTA meetings. Between his caramel hair, puppy dog eyes and a jawline that could cut diamonds, no one could blame you for harboring a little crush on him. It didn’t help that the sound of “Miss. Y/N” rolling of his tongue was enough for your panties to become ruined. How can someone’s voice be deeper than the Pacific ocean?

Your eyes quickly found him as they ran over the school courtyard. He was crouched beside Jisoo, golden skin glistening in the early May sun, lips stretched into a large smile as he chatted with his daughter. You mentally cursed how good he looked in a plain black t-shirt, because no human should look that hot. And those arms, god those arms. You could barely breathe when his biceps flexed to pick Jisoo’s backpack.

You lingered in the courtyard until you were sure all your kids were gone before slowly dragging yourself back to your classroom. Due to school policy, you were required to stay for another hour before you could head home to your couch and a warm cup of tea. Doing your best to fill up the time, you stop by the teacher’s lounge to make yourself a cup of bland coffee, an important aid in making your way through grading thirty-two math tests. You loved to teach, but grading had to be one of the worst jobs on the planet. While your kids were wonderful, you couldn’t say the same about their handwriting. You had suffered through many a headache trying to decipher e’s from c’s and h’s from n’s.

Sure enough an hour later you were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. Accompanying your growing headache was the familiar queasy stomach and empty chest. These phenomenons make up what you call the Feeling. The Feeling had plagued you since you were eight years old and you accidentally set your Barbie doll on fire.

For the most part, it had been a quiet Tuesday evening. Your parents had gotten into another fight, but that wasn’t exactly out of character at this point. You were alone in your room about to make Ken kiss the bride, when you heard a loud crash from the kitchen. You jumped at the sound, heart beating fast. Crashes often meant ugly fights and because of this, loud noises set off your fight or flight instincts. When you looked back at your doll, you found that your dear Barbie, along with your hand, were ablaze. Despite the fire, the burning sensation was nowhere to be found, and despite your surprise, you made no sound. Instead, you stared at the flames until your breathing and heartbeat slowed and the fire extinguished itself. The doll was a melted, black mess, but your hand was otherwise untouched.

That was the first of many times you accidentally set something on ire. Byt the time you were eleve, your pyrokinetic abilities were somewhat under control. As far as you were aware, nobody else knew about it and that was the way you wanted it to stay. However, your control over your flame had a direct relationship with the Feeling. As your control grew, the Feeling grew in tandem. You don’t know exactly how to describe the Feeling, but the closest you had ever come was it felt like you were missing the other half of your soul. At first, it was just a lonely thought it the back of your mind, but as you matured, it became more physical and more distracting. It was a dull ache most of the time and just enough distraction would make you forget about it, but some days it screamed at you, making it hard to focus on work and at its worst, leave you bedridden. You were to afraid to go to a doctor because while you didn’t know the exact cause, you were fairly certain that it was connected to your powers and you weren’t in the mood to become some lab experiment.

Today it hadn’t been too bad, but without proper distraction, it still bugged you. You had found over the years that peppermint tea eased the feeling a bit, so you found yourself once again in the teacher’s lounge, boiling a steaming cup. You were in the middle of stirring in some honey, when Kim Namjoon, the vice principal, approached you.

“Hey, Y/N.” He smiled fondly at you.

“Hey, Namjoon, what’s up?”

You liked Namjoon. Not romantically, but as a person. He was intelligent, funny and genuinely cared about both the staff and the kids. He had amazing ideas about how to make the students learning simultaneously more fun and more immersive, all while providing constant support for the teachers. He would make a much better principal then Min Jinsoo, who only liked his job for his pay.

“I got your field trip approved.”

A few weeks ago you had sent in a request for a field trip to a local dance studio that offered classes about movement for younger children. You were currently leading a unit on health and exercise and you figured this would be a great way to get the kids out of the classroom. When you had told Namjoon about your idea, he had immediately been on board. However, Jinsoo was an absolute stinge, and rarely granted field trip requests. This time, however, you seemed to have gotten lucky.

“Really? That’s great. What did you have to bribe Min with this time?”

“Bribery? Don’t you know who I am? I charmed him with my outstanding rhetoric.”

You raised an eyebrow. He sighed.

“Free coffee for a month.”

“Jesus, Joon, you didn’t have to do that!”

“A ‘thanks’ would have been sufficient.”

“Well, thank you. This will really mean a lot to the kids. We haven’t gone on a field trip since October.”

“No problem. You know the kid’s education is the most important thing to me.”

“I do, but we both know how expensive Jung’s prefered coffee is.”

“I never promised him that. If you think I am bringing anything other than that gas station shit, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Well, thanks still. Anyway, I better get going. I have a crap load of tests to grade. As much as I love these kids, their handwriting is really something else.”

“Aish, I know. Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Kim.”

An hour later, you’re finally done with checking the tests and entering the scores into the gradebook. You pack up your stuff, grab your coat and keys and head out to your car. The one positive about staying behind to grade tests, is that it means you miss rush hour. Instead of an hour, your drive home only takes thirty minutes. However, by the time you make it home, the Feeling begins to take over. You immediately make yourself another cup of peppermint tea before curling up on the couch and putting a show on Netflix. You can’t really focus on the plot though, because the Feeling is slowly taking over all of your senses. You hated when it got like this: all consuming, demanding that you pay attention to it. What you hated most is that there was no way for you to fix it. For all you knew, you would spend the rest of your life like this and if the pattern continued, it would only get worse.

You ended up giving up on watching the show and instead making yourself a light dinner before going to bed at six-thirty. You don’t fall asleep for a long time, tears streaming down your face as you longed for someone to comfort you, to tell you it was okay. When you can no longer keep your eyes open, you fall into a dreamless slumber.

HOSEOK POV

“One and two and three and four and…” Hoseok had long cutout Jimin’s counting, his only focus being his body and the music.

He loved the feeling of the solid, hardwood dance floor beneath his feet. With each step he felt more alive and he could feel a rush of energy run through him every time he breathed in. He threw his body into every leap, every step, every beat. Dance was his life and he communicated that with his movement.

He got so caught up in dancing that he hadn’t realized that Jimin had stopped moving. One second he was flying through the air and the next he was colliding with Jimin’s hard body before falling to the floor. He put his hand out to catch himself, but his weight was too much for his wrist and he cried out as sharp pain shot up his arm.

“Fuck, Hobi, are you okay?”

Jimin was immediately hovering over him, as he rolled on the floor clutching his wrist.

“Ahh, shit it hurts.”

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Do you need painkillers? Ice?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just help me up.”

Using his good hand, Jimin lifted him to his feet and helped him hobble to the front desk where they kept a mini-fridge with ice. He hissed when he felt the cold against his now swollen wrist.

“Are you sure your fine?” Jimin’s voice was shaking with worry.

“I’ll be alright. Go back to dancing, I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jimin cast him a worried glance, but listened to him anyway. As soon as Jimin was gone, Hoseok channeled the energy that was always bubbling in his core to spread out down to his arm. He sighed in relief as the swelling went down. He became so relaxed, that he didn’t notice that he had set fire to the towel he had wrapped around the ice.

“Fuck. Shit. Goddammit.”

He quickly beat out the flame before throwing the towel in the trash, hoping no one would notice it. It wasn’t the first time he had accidentally set something on fire and he doubted it would be the last. Ever since he was eight years old, he had been setting random things aflame. Lucky for him, the only person who had ever caught him was his school’s druggie. The kid had blabbered to everyone on campus about Hoseok’s powers but every had passed it off as an LSD induced hallucination. Despite having them for his entire life, he had no idea where his powers came from, he just knew that they were accompanied by the strangest ache he had ever felt.

He waited a couple more minutes before heading back into the dance studio. Jimin had just finished running through the song again and was brushing the sweat from his forehead.

When he saw Hoseok, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Hey, what are you doing? Shouldn’t you be icing that?”

“It’s fine, just some temporary pain. I’m good. Should we run it again?”

“Actually, we have some kids from a local school coming in in a couple days. I was hoping you could teach it because it’s my parent’s 50th anniversary and I have to help with the party.”

“Uh, sure. How old are they?”

“Around five or six. Kindergartners.”

“Aww, just little kiddos.”

Hoseok had always had a soft spot for little ones. They were always so adorable, prancing around the studio, attempting to follow his instructions.

“Yeah, it’s a field trip from the local school. I think you’ll really like the teacher. She’s hot.”

Jimin sent him a wink and he rolled his eyes in response. Over the years, Hoseok had found himself perpetually single. Don’t get him wrong, he had got his dick wet plenty of times, but every relationship he had found himself in felt suffocating. Jimin, however, was a hopeless romantic and made it his life mission to find the girl of Hoseok’s dreams. This teacher was only one of the billion that Jimin had tried to set him up with and he doubted this one would be any different from the rest. Still, there was a part of him that hoped that she might fix the hole that was becoming more and more obvious every day.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. You had never felt this good in your entire life. You had just stepped into the dance studio to meet the instructor for your class, normal procedure. However, as soon as his hand clasped yours in a friendly shake, it felt like your entire body was healed. You almost jumped in surprise at the sensation and it took you a solid minute to recuperate from the shock. Throughout the class you found yourself trying to find ways to get as close to him as possible: the nearer you were, the more euphoric you felt. The hole that had began to become unbearable the last couple days, was suddenly gone. During the lunch break, you found yourself talking to him. The conversation was easy, and while you normally felt anxious around guys, you felt completely safe around Hoseok. He was handsome, a good dancer, and the absolute sweetest around the kids. You prayed to god he was single, because you weren’t sure you would be able to handle of the pain of him having a girlfriend. You dreaded having to leave. You didn’t know if you would ever feel like this again.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. You almost wanted to cry during your departure, but instead were forced to help manage your small children. When you shook his hand in goodbye, you felt a small piece of paper being passed to you. When you glanced at it, you were elated to see the ten digits scrawled in blue ink. You couldn’t help the smile that grew across your face and when you glanced back up at him, you burst out laughing at his cheesy wink. You didn’t notice your scarf in a crumpled heap in the corner of the dance studio, but Hoseok certainly did.

You at in your desk chair, lazily swinging back and forth, while you debated whether or not you should text him. You hadn’t had much dating experience in your life (read: none at all) and the last thing you wanted was to come off as too eager. That being said, you were eager to see him again. You longed to feel the comfortable ease that came with being around him and his gorgeous smile. You began to swirl into an anxious spiral, mind switching back and forth to the point that you felt a headache begin to form. You were so deep in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear the knock on the door or see Hoseok walk in.

You glanced up in surprise, “Oh...what are you doing here?”

He broke into a gentle smile as your tongue tripped over itself, which in turn made you smile as well. Just him being in the room made your mind calm and your anxiety quell. That all disappeared when you noticed the scarf, your scarf, in his hand. You come to the fast and disappointing realisation that he is not there for you, but simply to return your belonging.

“I’m here to return this...”

His voice was soft and unsteady, breath quick. He almost seemed nervous.

“...andtoaskyouonadate.”

He spit the words out so fast, it took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said. When the realisation did hit you, you opened your mouth before closing it in complete disbelief.

“I..well..um..you wanna go on a date? With me?” You couldn’t keep the disbelief out of your voice.

“Well..uh..yeah. Ya know..if that is something you would like?”

It was a good thing no one else was there to see you because you were both a blushing mess. Hoseok hadn’t actually gone a date with a girl in years (he was pretty sure casual one night stands didn’t count as dates) and you had never been on a date at all. You hadn’t even had your first kiss.

“I would like that...a date..that...we should do.”

Your nervousness seemed to cure him of his, as he burst out in the cutest giggle you had ever heard (keep in mind you work with five year olds).

“Thank god, if you had said no, I swear I would’ve died.”

You smile, the butterflies in your stomach still fluttering, but no longer preventing you from being a coherent human being.

“I’m just happy you’re not just here to return the scarf.”

“I’m happy you left it so I had an excuse to see you again.”

You giggled.

“So how does dinner and a movie next Saturday sound?”

“It sounds just perfect.”

“Well I should probably go, it’s Jimin’s birthday and if I don’t pick up the alcohol for his party, I don’t know if you will ever see me again.”

“Well then you better go, I don’t want a missing man as my date. Text me the details?”

“Sounds good.”

Time goes by slower than you would like, but now Hoseok texts you daily and that keeps your impatience at bay. By the time Saturday evening rolls around, you are a chaotic mess, trying to figure out what to wear. You always thought it was stupid how much time and effort put into getting ready for these kinds of things, but now you fully understood the pressure of trying not to look like you tried too hard, but also like you tried a little. Society is stupid like that. By the time you were walking out the door, you had spent nearly three hours on your hair, makeup and outfit, and you swore to god if the date went well, Hoseok was going to have to deal with you being a mess from now on.

You meet him at a new Mexican restaurant equidistant from both of your houses. You almost choked when you saw him, his usual attire consisting of sweatpants and loose tees replaced with a leather jacket and black skin-tight jeans. He looked god-level good and you wondered how soon you could get water because, goddamn, if you were going to get through this night you were going to need a lot of it.

As it turns out, despite his “bad boy” outfit, Hoseok was the perfect gentlemen. He held the door open, offered to take your jacket, and pulled out your chair for you. Just like the other day at the dance studio, conversation with him was as easy as it had ever been. You felt completely relaxed, and despite your generally closed off ways, you were willing to be completely vulnerable. It was simple and easy and you didn’t have to think about anything.

Everything was going great until you left the restaurant to walk to the nearby movie theater. You were halfway there when you ran into the one person you would pay money to never have to speak to again: Jeon Jungkook, your high school crush.

You and Jungkook had been in the same friend group in high school and were actually fairly close. You had spent many a night helping his piss drunk ass home and sobering him up so his father wouldn’t get mad and beat him again. You grew closer as more and more of your friends either graduated or became self-righteous jerks and by the end of your junior year, you considered him to be your best friend.

But then something changed. Jungkook grew distant within a matter of weeks, only talking to you when absolutely necessary. You were left heartbroken and confused, but when you tried confront him on the matter, he left you with more questions, then he answered. You later learned that he had found out about your little crush on him and instead of handling it like a mature human being, he ditched you out of embarrassment for your “pitiful ass” (his words apparently).

“Oh hey.”

Hey. Those were the first word to you in ten years, after abandoning you when he was all you had left.  You glared at him, hand tightening around Hoseok’s.

“Hey.”

Your voice was quiet. You didn’t know what Jungkook wanted, but that didn’t stop you from being terrified that he would say something to make Hoseok never want to talk to you again. You were so happy for the first time in your life, and here was the one person who might just ruin it for you.

“Who’s this?”

Hoseok looked back and forth between you, clearly confused.

“This is my..uh..ex-friend, Jungkook.”

“Now that’s no way to introduce your best friend from high school.”

You hated that he looked so happy. That he was confident. You had wanted the world to rip him apart for what he did to you, but instead it seemed to only have built him up more.

“What do you want Jungkook?”

Despite your attempts to control it, you were sure both men could here the anger laced in your tone.

“Gosh, Y/N, I was just trying to be nice.”

“Oh, now you’re being nice? Maybe you should’ve tried that a couple years ago.”

This seemed to tick Jungkook off, his brows furrowing and his lips curling in a spiteful frown.

“Well sorry I didn’t want your pathetic ass trailing around behind me like a lost puppy.”

He turned to Hoseok.

“Let me give you some advice man, get out while you still can. She’s just an attention seeker and a clingy bitch. God, I can’t believe I was ever friends with you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and before Hoseok can say anything in response, you were bolting down the street in the direction of your home, not looking behind you once.

Over the next few weeks you ignore Hoseok’s calls and texts, too embarrassed to talk to him. Over the course of the next month, you flirt with Taehyung and he ends up asking you out. You agree. He was much more confident than Hoseok and even though you didn’t feel the same relief as you did when Hobi was around, you thought that maybe getting out into the dating world would help fill up the hole that had gotten worse since you stopped hanging out with Hoseok.

Taehyung picked you up at your apartment before driving you to mini-golf. Like Hoseok, he was a perfect gentleman and the conversation was easy, but you didn’t feel the connection you had before. After letting you beat him (even though he denied it ferociously), he took you to a quiet cafe near your home. You were talking quietly about various teaching methods when you saw him.

Hoseok look tired and distraught as he dodged the barista’s attempts to flirt with him. You tried to focus on your conversation, but your eyes kept wandering back to where he was standing, waiting for his coffee. He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet and it was a fact you were thankful for. Despite the fact that you weren’t interested in Taehyung romantically, you didn’t need yet another date ruined by a ghost from your past. However, you’re luck seemed to runout when his eyes glanced over you. You could see the exact moment he understood what he was looking at.

A look of determination came over him as he grabbed his drink before beelining straight towards your table.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring me?”

You flinched at his sudden harsh words and you would’ve paid a million dollars to get swallowed up by a giant hole right then and there. Tae looked at you, obviously confused. You gulped audibly before opening your mouth.

“Hi, Hoseok.” You heard your voice shake and your will to live shrunk even smaller.

“Just answer my goddamn question, Y/N.”

You looked apologetically at Taehyung, “Can you excuse us for a moment?”

He nods, still confused.

You grabbed Hoseok’s hand and drag him outside of the coffee shop before turning to really look at him for the first time since your date. You could now clearly see how unwell he was. His lips were chapped and the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost dead. Edward looked more alive than him.

“Well?”

His voice wasn’t annoyed, just exasperated.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“That’s it?”

“No. I am really sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you, I was just embarrassed. Jungkook, the guy we ran into, I used to have a thing for him and he found out and he thought I was pathetic because of it so he stopped hanging out with me. I just didn’t want you to think about me the same way he did. I..I really like you, Hoseok and I didn’t want you to hurt me like he had.”

Hoseok stared at you blankly and you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to swarm with anxiety.

“Please say something.”

He looked at you in the eyes and you see his facial features begin to soften.

“I would never think of you as pathetic, Y/N. I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like it was even possible for me to think that. I really like you too, if you haven’t noticed and I haven’t felt this way about someone for a really long time. I just thought I had screwed up somehow, which, admittedly wouldn’t have been the first time. I just…”

You cut off his rambling by attaching your lips to his. He stood frozen in shock for a few moments before his brain registers what’s happening. He then begins to his move his mouth against yours. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you and your entire body relaxed into him. You don’t notice the heat at first, you are so consumed by the feeling of Hoseok’s lips on yours. The light is what drew your attention away from his mouth and to your arms, both of which were on fire.

You draw back in a panic, a yelp released from your mouth.

“Oh my god.”

You had set Hoseok on fire. You knew your powers would be a burden, but you had never imagined something like this would ever happen. By now, of course, Hoseok had noticed the flames too and was also in a state of panic.

“Oh shit. Oh my god, I set you on fire. Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Wait, what?”

You pulled back.

“You set me on fire?”

Hoseok looked at you confused. It then came to both of your realisation that neither of you were screaming in pain, as one who was on fire would.

“Wait, can you…?” You looked up at Hoseok with bright eyes, “Can you light things on fire?”

Hoseok nodded slowly like he was afraid for the truth to come out. He looked down at the ground almost embarrassed.

“I can too.”

At that, his head snapped up and looked you straight in the eye.

“You’re lying.” His voice was rough, but you could hear a glimmer of hope in his undertone.

“I’m not. See.”

You lifted your hand and produced a small flame from your palm. As if in a trance, Hoseok’s own hand came out to brush the tip of the fire. When he deemed it harmless, he grasped your hand in his own and pulled you in for a hug.

“I’m not alone,” he whispers shakely.

His arms were tight around you and you once again were overwhelmed with feelings of comfort and belonging. After a long minute, he pulled away again, eyes glassy and lips curved into a shaky smile.

“Look, Y/N, I know that we haven’t known each other that long, but for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I belong somewhere and that somewhere is with you. So would you be willing to do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide and heart open before nodding as tears began to trickle down your cheeks.

“Yes, Hoseok, I would love to.”

With that he pulled you in for a kiss, this one a bit more reckless and messy. You got caught up in how safe his arms felt and how euphoric your entire being was just because his lips were on yours. You never wanted the moment to end.

Eventually you pulled back when someone clears their throat. You find Taehyung standing outside the cafe door, looking a bit awkward.

“Uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh god, Taehyung, I’m so sorry. This isn’t anything against you, I swear. You’re a really great guy-”

“It’s fine. Seriously. Look, I think your cute and I would have loved to date you, but just from looking at the two of you together, I can tell that he’s the one you should be with.”

A small smile graces your mouth at the comment.

“Thanks for being so understanding. I’m sure you’ll find the perfect girl out there somewhere.”

“Thanks. Have a great night, Y/N.”

“You too, Tae.”

With that he walks away, leaving you to sink into your new boyfriend’s arms.

You had never believed in fairytales and had a general distaste toward rom-coms. With your life being so bitter and lonely, you found it hard to believe anything close to the semblance of true love could be real. Hoseok completely flipped your world view. With him, everything was easier, lighter. If you were having troubles with work, he would be there to rant to and then take you to get a cup of coffee.

You had discussed your powers and found your experiences to remarkably similar: you both set things on fire at a young age, before gradually gaining control of it. You both had also experienced the missing feeling in your soul which had only grown with time, but most importantly, you both knew that that hole was gone as long as you were with each other.

Despite his disclaimer of not having a girlfriend since his junior year of high school, Hoseok went above and beyond in your relationship in ways that made you feel like you might be an inadequate girlfriend. The dates he planned were always fun and interesting but he also had an interesting knack for knowing when you just needed to stay in for the evening and watch movies while cuddling.

Somewhere along the line, the question of sex came in. You had barely kissed anyone before Hoseok, much less ever had sex and you were very embarrassed to admit this to him. He, however, was very understanding, and was willing to wait as long as you wanted.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he had said, “I would love to fuck you into high heavens right now, but I know that losing your virginity is scary and I don’t want you to feel any pressure whatsoever.”

You had felt much better after that and neither of you had touched the subject since. Before you knew it, you had almost been dating for a year. Your life had become the life you could only have dreamed of twelve months ago. Even Namjoon had mentioned how much happier you seemed.

You had gotten to know Hoseok’s friends as well and you often hung out as a group. You had grown especially close to Jimin, who was constantly trying to woo Hoseok’s other close friend, Yoongi.

“I just don’t understand,” he would complain to you, “I know he likes me, so why does he give me the cold shoulder all the time. We literally slept together. He had his dick inside me for fucks sake!”

“Maybe he’s just scared of commitment.”

“Scared of commitment my ass, what more could you need when you have my peach butt on demand 24/7.”

For your one year anniversary, Hoseok planned a picnic on the beach. You ate chinese takeout since neither of you could cook for shit and talked while watching the sun set over the ocean. After eating, you strolled along together, barefoot in the sand, hand in hand. You would playfully splash him with your foot and he would threaten to throw you into the chilly water. Your conversation was careless and free and your heart felt light. You wouldn’t have changed a thing, even for a million dollars. Eventually he stopped walking and pulled you to face him.

You looked up at him and giggled, but your smile dropped when you saw how serious he looked.

“What’s up?”

You felt your stomach sinking.

“I just wanted to take a moment to say how much you mean to me, Y/N. Before I met you, I didn’t even realise how shitty my life was. It was all grey and boring and sure there were times where I was happy but for the most part I was lonely and tired. And then you came in and you lit the entire thing up. The past year with you has by far been the best in my entire life. I feel so happy and free and like there isn’t a thing in the world that could change that. I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much and I just wanted you to know that.”

You felt the tears as they poured down your cheek. You were breathless, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.

“I love you too, Jung Hoseok.”

With that, he pulled you in for a kiss, his hands grasping your cheeks. His kissed you with such a ferocity that it felt like he was trying to transfer his soul into you. You were faintly aware of the fact that you were in public and that your bodies were probably catching on fire from the intensity, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. You just wanted to be consumed by Jung Hoseok.

You pulled away first when your lungs began to burn from the lack of air. Hoseok looked down with you and you would have to be blind not to see the pure adoration that filled his eyes.

“I have one more thing to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Will you move in with me?”

You don’t even think before nodding. And then you are kissing again. That’s when you realise you want him. All of him. You loved him and he loved you and there was no one else on the planet you would ever want to be with.

“Hoseok...I want to do it. Tonight.”

His gaze felt intense as his brown eyes met yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

“We’ve been together for a year and I love you so fucking much Jung Hoseok. There’s no one else in the entire world I would rather do it with.”

Once he realized that you were really serious about having sex with him, his entire demeanor changed. His eyes darkened and you giggled as he grabbed your hand dragging you back to the car.

“Eager much?”

“Look, I love you, but I haven’t had sex in like a year and a half. Forgive me if I am a bit excited to finally fuck the love of my life.”

You giggled again.

Despite his eagerness before, Hoseok insisted on taking it slow. Instead of pushing you up against the wall as soon as he closed the door like you had wished, he made you sit on the couch while he “got ready”. You let him, wondering what in the world he would possibly need to change in order to have sex. Maybe he was cleaning his dick. You giggled at the thought.

However, all traces of humor were erased when Hoseok guided you by the waist to his bedroom, only for you to find the room lit up with candle light.

“Sorry that there aren’t any rose petals, but I didn’t exactly have any forewarning so I hope this works.”

“Hoseok, this is perfect. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”

With that, his lips are once again on yours and you’re being pushed back until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto the plush mattress. Hoseok’s hand found your breast and he softly groped it, enticing a soft sigh from you. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Lewd smacking noises fill the room. Yearning to be closer to Hoseok’s solid body you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, and pulled him as close to you as possible.

Hoseok’s hand moved from your tit, and traveled to the hem of your sundress, where he began to draw small, teasing circles. You arched your back into him, a small moan slipping out of your mouth. His erection is pressed against your thigh, and you feel a small bubble of pride swell up in you. You had spent so much of your life doubting how you look and how you act, but here you were with a man who found you overwhelmingly attractive and on top of it, loved you with the depths of his soul.

You soon pulled away from the soft comforts of his mouth, only to tug at the hem his t-shirt before he gets the hint and removes the offensive fabric. You had seen Hoseok shirtless many times before, when he was swimming or dancing or during one of your many make-out sessions, but his broad shoulders and tight abs never failed to make you clench your thighs to together.

Hoseok noticed your stare and chuckled.

“As much as I appreciate you appreciating me, I think it’s only fair that you remove a little something too, princess.”

You felt your core tighten at the pet name, and you found yourself eagerly shrugging the dress over your head before you threw it off the bed to join Hoseok’s shirt. Your simple lace bralette and lavender cotton underwear weren’t exactly the sexiest lingerie one could wear, but the dark look in Hoseok’s eyes could have fooled you.

Then he was crawling back over you, lips attached to the side of your neck as he helplessly rutted down on your thigh. Your threw your head back in a moan when he bit down on a particular sensitive spot near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Expletives fell from your lips as pleasure clouded your mind and you felt the wetness in your panties soak through the flimsy material.

One of Hoseok’s callused hands managed to make its way down your side before it resumed its place on the inside of your thigh. This time he moved them slowly upwards until you could swear you could feel the heat of his fingertips through your underwear. He lightly pressed on your clit, testing the waters before your soft gasp led him to add more pressure, rubbing in gentle circles. You whined at the motion, the unfamiliar feeling of someone else touching you there sent you into a heated frenzy.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

The low timbre of Hoseok’s voice rendered you speechless and you could only whine in response. He pushed the cotton aside before he  continued his previous motions. The direct contact almost felt too much, your nerve endings on fire. Your fingernails dug into the bare skin of Hoseok’s back and he let out a low growl in response. He removed his fingers from your core, leaving you a whimpering mess in his wake. His fingers found their way to the clasp of your bra before swiftly undoing it. The moment the garment left your body, insecurity flowed through you. You resisted the urge to cover up your exposed chest with your arms. Hoseok seemed to notice the doubt in your eyes and in response, smiled down at you.

“It’s okay, princess. You’re fucking perfect. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His words soothed you and you relaxed as his palm slowly grazed against the side of your breast. You felt his lips slowly kiss down your chest before wrapping around your nipple. The sensation was completely foreign to you and your brain completely blanked as his warm tongue delivered soft licks. His fingers came to pinch the other nipple and you let out a high pitched moan in surprise.

He soon abandoned you breasts in favor of kissing down your abdomen. Your skin tingle and his touch only served to further electrify you. Upon reaching the hem of your panties, he kissed around the edge of the band before he grasped it with his teeth. Your lustful gaze followed him as he drug the fabric down your legs at an infuriating pace. Once the underwear had joined the ever growing pile of clothes, his lips attached themselves to the inside of your thighs, leaving small, deliberate bites that you were sure would become purple marks by morning. He moved himself to comfortably sit between your legs before glancing up at you with dark eyes.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You whine.

“Yes, it’s fine, just please touch me.”

Permission granted, he dove in, taking a tentative lick, before the soft lips that you loved so much wrapped around your clit. He moaned at the taste and you threw your head back, unable to comprehend how you got so lucky as to have this beautiful man, laying before you, eating you out like there wasn’t a finer meal in the world.

“Princess, you taste like honey. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me all these months.”

Words failed you and you responded by clenching your thighs around his head, trying to bring him closer to you. Your eyes shot open when you felt the tip of his finger gently prod at your entrance, before he slowly slipped inside. You looked down to find him gazing at you intently, trying to gage your reaction. You gave a small nod of encouragement before leaning back into the pillow. Hoseok’s finger grazed your walls just the right way and you began to feel the start of a knot forming in your lower belly.

When he deemed you ready, he slipped in a second finger to join the first and this time the stretch was a bit more painful. Once you adjusted, pleasure sang through your body and the knot began to tighten.

“Hoseok,” you eked out, “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, baby? Well then go ahead, let it go.”

It took only a couple more well aimed thrusts of his fingers, before your core tightened around him and white hot euphoria blinded you. If you were anymore coherent, you might have been worried about his neighbors hearing your scream, but your mind is instead a foggy mess and the only thing you could think about is how much you want him inside your pussy.

After you recovered, you dragged Hoseok up to meet his lips with your own, while your hands traveled down to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. You reached your hand into his boxers to give him a few encouraging strokes, to find him nearly fully hard. He eagerly pushed down his tight jeans and taking his underwear off with them.

“Are you one hundred percent sure about this?”

“A thousand.”

With that, he reached up to grab a condom from his bedside drawer and quickly rolled it on. You felt him line up with you and you began to feel a little nervous. Would it hurt? How much and for how long? Hoseok catched your apprehension, and reached up to gently caress your cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay love. I’ll go slow and if it hurts just let me know. It’s all about communication.”

You nodded, your nerves calmed a little. True to his word, he pushed in slowly. The stretch was indeed painful and you winced slightly at the sting. Hoseok’s hand never left your cheek, wiping away the couple tears that fell. Once he was fully seated inside you, he stopped.

“Let me know when I can move. Take all the time in the world.”

“Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you and you stay like that for a few minutes: his lips on yours, his cock connecting you in the most intimate way possible. There was a magical feeling to it, like all the stars in the heavens had aligned in just the right way. Everything felt perfect and you never wanted to leave his bed ever again.

Eventually, the painful stretch turned into a dull burn and you gave him the go ahead to move. He started slowly, thrusts steady and strong. You let out little moans as the rest of the ache fades into a delicious pleasure. The feeling seems to be catching up to Hoseok too, because he began to lose his rhythm, releasing little groans along the way.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good. I never wanna leave your pussy, baby.”

“Hoseok, shit, keep going. Faster, baby, faster.”

He heeded your demand and his thrusts speed up, leaving you a mess underneath him. All you could do was moan, nails digging into his back. Your feet locked around his waist in an a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. Your cries were getting louder and his grunts had turned into moans. The knot once again began to form in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Hoseok, I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, princess, me too. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Neither of you noticed the fire beginning to burn, too caught up in your embrace. It started in your hands and moved up your arms and to your chest. The heat from the flames only fueled your pleasure, your sea of euphoria drawing back to form the tsunami that is your approaching orgasm. Hoseok’s thrusts began to stutter, balls tightening, moans reaching their peak crescendo.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Come with me, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

With that your both reach your peak, your pussy clamped down on him while he filled the condom. The flames intensified, as if your climax was their own personal brand of fuel. The euphoria that washed through both of your minds is so intense that you can’t even remember your own names. As the waves begin to calm, all you can think of is Hoseok before your mind faded to black.

You blink awake only to be greeted with harsh white light. You couldn’t remember much, other than passing out after having the best orgasm of your life. You quickly come to the realization that you are no longer in Hoseok’s bed or even his apartment. Instead, you are sitting in a plush chair, that is not entirely unlike a throne. The floral sundress you were wearing at the beach is replaced with what you can only describe as the most luxurious sheet you have ever felt forming a makeshift toga of sorts.

What the hell? you think.

As your eyes finally adjust more fully to light, you find that Hoseok is sitting next you in a chair and donning a toga similar to your own. The chairs are placed at a grand marble table which is in the center of grand marble room. The roof seems to be made of glass and behind it, the source of the blinding light shines through. Across from you sits a being, who seems not to ascribe to gender but rather transcends it to become (objectively) the most beautiful human being you have ever seen.

Hobi is the first to speak, as you are too lost to form words.

“Where the fuck are we?”

The being across from you chuckles at his question, mouth opening to show glowing white teeth.

“Ah, such harsh words. I forget how crass the human mind is. You are in what I like to call a transitional space.”

“A what?”

This time it is you who asks the question.

“A transitional space.”

“Transition between what?”

Despite your question, you’re beginning to feel a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Between this life and the next. This room exists only for us to talk and once you leave, it will never exist again.”

“Wait, go back. What were you saying about our lives?”

Judging by the look on his face, Hoseok is slowly coming to the same conclusion that you have.

“You, my loves, are dead. During the final moments of your consummation of your love, the fire that burned quietly in your soul for the duration of your life finally consumed you and left you as nothing but ashes on white sheets.”

And there it was. You were dead. You had no idea why and you had no idea who this person or thing was, but something told you that this was part of something much bigger than you would’ve ever imagined.

“And who are you?”

Hoseok looks surprisingly resigned. During the course of your relationship, you had noticed that Hoseok didn’t take well to drastic change, yet here in this room, facing the most drastic change of all, he didn’t even bother to frown.

“I am Fatum, better know to you English speakers as Fate. And you are my children.”

Both of your eyes go wide. Fate looks calmly back at you and you become faintly aware that their irises slowly change color like the colorful LED lights on Hoseok’s car stereo.

“You and your deaths are part of a saga that has been drawn out over many eons. Once long ago, I had a lover, Ordo. They were my single purpose in life, the focus of all my energy. But sadly, good things rarely last forever in this universe, and they ended up betraying me. I had no choice but to destroy them. Instead of getting rid of them completely, I took their soul, combined it with a part of mine and split it in two. Those two new souls are you.

“You became my pride and joy and slowly the pain I felt about Ordo’s loss was replaced with my abundance of love for you. In fact, I became so attached to you that I made it impossible for your souls to ever be destroyed, even by me. But then you grew older. You became wary of me and began to act out. In the end, you followed in Ordo’s footsteps betraying me and my work for the good of the universe.

“This time, however, I could not destroy you like I had with Ordo. My blind adoration for you prevented that and so I cursed you instead. For the past several eons, you have been cast onto Earth in the form of humans. Since you are technically the same soul split into two bodies, separation for long periods of time is quite emotionally draining. Lucky for you, I cursed you so that you would eventually find each other and in the presence of your other half, find the most euphoric happiness ever known.”

“Excuse me if I don’t understand how that would be considered a curse?”

Fatum turns to face you and you shiver as his eyes seem to bore through your soul, the very one he supposedly created.

“Well, you see my love, your happiness has a...let’s call it an expiration date. Humans, the silly things, always seem to succumb to intercourse when they discover who they believe to be the love of their lives. You two are certainly no exception. Your curse comes in the form of death during the...uh...climax of your first time together. You then come back here to meet me, where I have explained this story to you a thousand times over.”

“And then what?”

“And then, Hoseok, I send you back to Earth to reborn yet again as another human only to live out the same fate.”

Fatum chuckles at their own joke.

“What about the fire?”

“The fire, my dear, is the only part of your former form that you retain. Before taking the form of an infinite number of humans, you were what you people call phoenixes. Your fire resides in your soul, which you know I cannot touch. In fact, that is where I got the inspiration for your curse. You know, the whole bursting into flames before being reborn schtick.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. What now?”

Hoseok seemed to be getting impatient with Fatum’s long story. He wasn’t good at sitting still for long periods of time and you had been sitting here for, well, you didn’t exactly know, time was somewhat elusive in this interdimensional space, but it seemed like very long.

“You get reborn obviously.”

The smile Fatum offered looked like an attempt offer a kind reprieve to the crazy story that had been forced down your throat, but it came off as chilling and a shiver was sent down your spine as a result. And then the world faded to black once more.

The fall air was chilly and you were forever grateful for warmed air of the local cafe. It was mid-October and the weather had just begun to cool off from the intense heat leftover from summer, but the mornings were just nippy enough to make you reach for an extra jacket and scarf.

Despite being seven-thirty on a Saturday morning, there was still a bit of line, and you distracted yourself by looking around the quiet cafe you had come to love. Now in your second year of college, you found that the atmosphere provided the peace you needed to study, unlike the library near your dorm. Despite strict rules to keep the noise down, there was always someone breaking them.

You finally made it to the front of the line, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face. You frequented the place enough to know all the staff, yet before you stood a boyishly, handsome man with the brightest smile you had ever scene. Something about him struck you as familiar, but you brushed off the feeling, dismissing it as your intuition going crazy from lack of sleep.

“Hi,” he greeted you, “I’m Hoseok, what can I get for ya?”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Please feel free to leave feedback. My inbox is always open to anyone. If you would like to help me determine where I head from here in terms of writing, here's a link to a survey. Thanks for reading. 

UPDATED BTS HEADCANONS

PART C: ERUCTO

PART C: ERUCTO

Seokjin

“I haven’t burped since debut.” (Proceeds to admit to burping “like 200 times” during VLive once)

So, I think he burps a lot more than he’d like to admit

But based on that VLive he was talking about, I don’t think they’re very loud or prominent, and if they make a sound they’re likely more strained than anything

Then again, he did say his stomach was upset from drinking water on that VLive

Meaning that drinking something carbonated might be a different story?

Soda burps are probably a lot louder. But he doesn’t drink too much soda.

Same goes for carbonated alcoholic beverages, and they’re probably more frequent if he’s drunk because he probably cares even less.

Yoongi

Gets indigestion often, which can make him burpy

Not loud, not quiet

Except for when he’s feeling sick

Or if he’s drinking something carbonated

Unlike Jin, who I think is probably on the louder side and pretty loud compared to his usual,

Yoongi’s burps can get monstrous with enough carbonation (or if he’s really sick)

He doesn’t really care, either

Unless they’re in a very public situation, but even then he might not care because he’s not really that loud most of the time

If he’s cut off in the middle of speaking, he’ll excuse himself and continue talking, but that’s probably the best you’re gonna get.

“Better out than in.”

Hoseok

The type to make a joke out of it and not care. Laugh it off, same with my eprocto headcanons, honestly.

I’ve never really thought too much about any burping headcanons for Hoseok? I don’t know, I don’t really write with/as him a lot ^^;

Namjoon

Fucking obnoxious

He doesn’t even try to be annoying, he just burps really loudly

Whether he drinks something carbonated or not

He’s not really embarrassed about it? But he’s not prideful, either.

Again, would never do it in a public situation.

He burps a lot when he feels shitty, like, every two minutes.

Most of the time, if he feels sick, there’s a 50% chance it’s just gas.

“I shouldn’t drink coke.” (Drinks coke anyway.)

He gave himself a whole speech on not burping on a VLive if that says anything here

Jimin

Soft, cute little burps

Though it’s not as bad as Yoongi, carbonation and being stuffed and feeling gross all contribute and can make him burp louder than usual

But I don’t think he’s really too burpy to begin with

A child about it (remember how he reacted to Hoseok burping on VLive? Lololol)

He gets kind of embarrassed when he burps around the others

But unless they’re loud and constant it doesn’t get him super super embarrassed. He just laughs nervously and tries to pretend it didn’t happen.

If it were in public, in front of fans, in the middle of something serious, that’s also a different story.

But the others coo at how cute he is no matter what he does, burping included (he burps like a kitten if that’s even a thing)

Taehyung

The biggest competition to Namjoon in being a naturally loud burper

Sometimes he does it to annoy the others

Has also started a burping contest with Jungkook more than enough times

But sometimes he also can’t help it

He’s just a burpy guy

Don’t give him soda

It’s just a bad idea.

Also kind of a child about it, but if it just happens with no joking intent he’s pretty unbothered

Jungkook

Also one of the burpy members of the group

Doesn’t care

Genuinely gives no fucks

Even if it’s in the middle of his sentence, he’ll just keep talking.

He drinks a lot of soda. Therefore he burps a lot.

Again, he and Taehyung have started many burping contests. The others just aren't fazed anymore.

This goes in hand with my eprocto headcanons as well, but I think when he first joined, since he was really really shy, he did his best to never burp or anything around the guys. But I think he’s a pretty gassy guy, and he’d end up making himself feel really shitty (really shitty) by holding it all in...so the others just taught him to give no shits.

They regret it sometimes

No but really they’d rather he annoy them than be in pain if it came down to it

Again, a good amount of the time he’s not even trying to be annoying.

Catastrophic Karaoke

Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader

Genre: light comedy? lol idk, Vampire!AU

words: 1516

Warnings: strong language, mentions of blood, fainting

Disclaimer: prompt found on @writing-prompt-s and used some oneliners from this list, also inaccurate representation of Goth culture as a whole with no ill intentions.

⟶ Halloween prompts masterlist

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, if you’re being honest. ‘Here’ being standing in the middle of a living room that isn’t your own, your shirt drenched with blood that isn’t yours and surrounded by a group of wide-eyed men while My Chemical Romance on Singstar still blares in the background.

“Um… is this...?” You gesture at your chest, the dark fluid sticking to your naked skin through the formerly white cotton of your T-shirt after Namjoon’s spilled the content of his cup all over it. You still cling onto the smallest shred of hope, the minuscule possibility that maybe they just like to make their party punch this deep red and...thick. Even when the trenchant smell of rusty iron keeps filtering through your nose and making you sick to your stomach.

“___-, we can explain.” Namjoon grimaces upon watching you gag, Jin’s eyebrows shooting up to make a face that translates to ‘We can?’.

“It’s not not blood.” Taehyung helpfully contributes to the situation, earning pained groans from the older men and a fistbump from the only younger one.

“Oh my– Whose blood is this?!”

Hoseok snorts in slight disbelief, although accompanied by a smirk of pure amusement. “Uh, not the question i’d thought you’d ask but okay.”

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Wait, what question should she be asking then?”

“Answer the damn question!” You shriek, already in the process of peeling off the blood-drenched article of clothing as any ounce of shame gets thrown out of the window along with your dignity, to make place for skin-crawling horror as you strip down to your bra.

“Don’t worry, ___-, we’re not monsters. People consent to getting their blood taken when they volunteer.” Namjoon tries to placate the circumstances but quite possibly only manages to make it worse.

“People volunteer to get their blood taken from them?!”

“Well, duh? As if you’ve never donated blood before?” Hoseok counters.

“Yes, Hoseok, to the fucking hospital!”

“Exactly! Which is our main source, so it’s all morally justified! Aside from the fact we don’t exactly have permission to take those donations.” He pulls a face. “Oops.”

“Have you ever considered you’re taking this whole thing way too far? Like, out of the seven of you, there was not one of you who didn’t want to be a part of this sick shit? I knew you guys were hardcore but you’re drinking human blood! What the fuck, you guys?!” You angrily throw your hands up and allow yourself to breathe after your breathless rant.

The group exchanges worried looks before Jin speaks up, talking slowly as if he’s trying to make something clear to a toddler. “___-, we don’t really have much of a choice…”

Watching how your expression goes from angry and disgusted to utterly confused and lost, Jimin comes to rub your back in an attempt to comfort you. “Oh honey, we thought you knew…”

“What?” You ask, voice significantly smaller now you’re suddenly not sure about your earlier convictions anymore. An even crazier thought briefly crosses your mind, though you quickly push it to the back just when jimin’s compassionate voice forms a strong contrast with the words he speaks.

“That we’re vampires. We just thought that, you know...You knew.” He shrugs a little sheepishly.

“Vampires? No, you’re just hardcore goths. Like wannabe vampires because there’s no such thing as...Actual vampires. You’re just pretending!” Nervous laughter bubbles up your throat as you try to make light of the situation by treating it as a joke. Of course it’s a joke! “You’re just messing with me for Halloween, aren’t you? With the fake blood and all, you almost got me there! Ha ha!”

Instead of the expected roaring laughter, an uncomfortable silence fills the entire room for ten excruciating seconds before Hoseok releases a fake breath. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Speaking of awkward, where’s Yoongi?” Jungkook suddenly remarks, pointing out the elder’s absence for the first time that night.

Yoongi! He hates pranks even more than you do, so he’d definitely be on your side when you tell him how the others tried to scare you!

“Probably still sleeping downstairs– Wait, ___-, where are you going?!” Namjoon calls out for you, alarmed, when he watches you sprint down the stairs and into the basement.

“You don’t think she…. She’s not going to…?” Jimin sputters, eyes wide in fear.

Namjoon nods his head, a sad and sorry expression marring his handsome face. “May she rest in peace.”

It’s not like you’ve never seen the basement before, but every time you visit the underground room, the view still manages to astound you. Most people have a clear picture of what basements should look like and more often than not it’s a bare, cold place where you just stock firewood, wine and cans of peas or something. Well, picture the complete opposite and this is it. It’s spacious, cozy and fully furnitured including seven luxurious coffins. You stopped asking questions a long time ago, taking your friends’ odd lifestyle choices not too seriously. Some people just get really into their subculture and that’s completely fine. Who are you to judge, right? 

“Yoongi.” You call, three polite knocks on the rich black oak of the closed coffin signaling your presence.

The cover of the casket opens slowly, mechanically, until it reveals the sleeping form of a pale and black-haired man, eyes closed and brows furrowed in a displeased frown.

“Who has the audacity to wake me up but not actually die?” He murmurs, still not opening his eyes and laying as static as a real corpse.

“Yoongi, you have to get up there. They’re all messing with me and I need you to tell them to knock it off.” You plead, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting your friend’s nap but you seriously need an ally up there.

“Oh, it’s you. Why is that my problem?” He peels one blood-red eye open to watch you pout down on him. “Where is your shirt?”

“They also opened your one hundred year old bottle of whiskey.”

The little white lie doesn’t miss its effect as Yoongi’s practically jumping out of the coffin to sprint upstairs, and that’s saying something considering you rarely saw him doing more exercise than moving from the couch to the basement and back.

“Which one of you fucktards opened my father’s whiskey?! Answer me!” You hear his voice thunder from the living room before you join them again.

“Ooh, fucktard! That’s new!” Hoseok quips and whips out a small notebook to quickly write something down. “By the way, ___- thinks we’re either hardcore goths or pranking her and she lied to get you out of the coffin.”

“She thinks we’re what?”

“Goths. Google it.”

Yoongi begrudgingly does as the younger man says and fishes his phone out of the pocket of his robes, briefly scrolling through the results and shrugging. “They have no idea what it’s like being a real vampire but i like their style.”

“Yeah. Apparently some even drink each other’s blood, too.”

“Humans do? Wild.”

You can’t believe your own eyes. Yoongi, playing along with all of this?!

“Look,” You raise your voice, sternly planting your hands above your hips, “I may not be the sharpest tool in the… toolbox. But I’m not buying this vampire crap! And someone give me a fresh shirt, for fuck’s sake!”

“Honestly, ___-, we really are vampires. I just thought you already knew.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Some of you wear cross necklaces. Jimin wears silver rings.” You counter.

“So?”

“I don’t see any of you catching fire?!”

The long overdue collective laughter finally resounds through the living room and a shred of relief washes over you when you think they’ve finally decided to drop the act because they can’t keep it up anymore. So you wished.

“Sweetie, those are just rumours from hundreds of years ago. I can’t believe you’d still fall for those.” Jimin manages to enlighten you between laughing fits after falling off the couch.

“So what, I’ve accidentally joined a vampire coven, then?” You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Yeah, pretty much. We thought you were funny so we decided to keep you.” Taehyung answers seriously, but still flashes a warm, boxy grin at you.

A wide, boxy grin. A toothy grin. Two long, pointy teeth. Fangs.

As you look around the room, at your friends still roaring with laughter, you start noticing the same lengthened teeth with sharpened ends in each of their smiles until everything goes dark before your eyes and the last thing you see is the Singstar mic rolling out of your hand and onto the ground.

The laughter stops abruptly, another tense silence taking place as they all stare at your limp body on the floor in shock.

“I found a T-shirt...” Jungkook feebly announces, holding up the shirt he’d just gone to get you from downstairs only to find you knocked out cold.

Hoseok takes a hesitant sip from his own cup. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

bts reaction - their s/o getting hate for dating them

requested

genre: angst, fluff

author’s note: i kinda changed your request. i hope that's okay 😬😬. also, i don’t think this is good writing but i did try my best. please enjoy!!!

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

masterlist

introduction

you knew what you were getting into when you started going out with [member]. you knew there was always going to be those people that don't accept your relationship to them. you told yourself not to listen and to ignore all the negativity. but you can only take so much.

kim seokjin

you received a letter in the mail. it was sitting on top of the coffee table, words haunting your mind. 'who gave you the right to date seokjin-oppa? do you think you're special? you're not.' those words were messing with your mind. on top of it, you felt scared. if they managed to get this letter into your mailbox, then they know where you live, they know where seokjin lives. you were more worried about him than yourself. seokjin had arrived home a few hours after you received the letter. "hey, baby." he greeted, tired from practice,

"come here," you told him.

slightly confused hearing the pain in your voice, seokjin walked to your spot on the couch. he sat down and you handed him the letter. you watched his face for any reaction. when he finished, the sides of the sheet of paper crumbled in his fist. he sighed. "why didn't you call me earlier?"

you shrugged. "you were busy."

"baby, they know where we live. this person clearly doesn't accept our relationship. they said very hurtful things to you. they could be dangerous."

you shook your head, tears spilling out of your eyes. seokjin's eyes widened. he pulled you into a tight hug, "hey, don't believe any of those words, okay? they are most definitely in the wrong. you have done nothing wrong." he reassured. "now, let's pack up some clothes and necessities. we're going to stay at the dorm for a while."

you nodded. you looked up at seokjin, who smiled at you. "i'll take care of it. don't worry."

min yoongi

it had never reached this point until just recently. you had helped with yoongi in his recent song and he was happy about it. he posted the song on soundcloud, and then announced it on twitter. he made sure that your name was in this tweet; there was no way he was going to take all the credit. majority of his fans loved it. but of course, there were those fans that loved the song, but hated the fact that you contributed. even worse: those who hated the song simply because of your contribution. you didn’t think anything of it but your social medias started to get blasted by comments, comments like ‘you’re not even an artist’, ‘you have no talent’, ‘the song would have been way better if you didn’t even exist.’ yoongi happened to read that last comment when you had left your phone unattended. he was angry. why weren’t they supporting you just as they would with him? he went to twitter for this problem. he thanked everyone in a long message, thanking them for their support. then he moved on to the ones who weren’t supporting you. he addressed that he was fine with their opinions, but directly messaging his significant other and saying how much they hated them just wasn’t right. sure, they don’t like them. but that doesn’t give them the right harass his significant other. after posting the message, many were proud and on his side. a few even apologized. even if his message didn’t do much, he felt better. when he was finished, you walked back into the room. “hey, i read a few comments they were making after our song.” he began.

your cheeks burned a bit. “did you...”

yoongi smiled at you, reaching for your hand. “i took care of it.”

you blushed, smiling widely at him.

jung hoseok

jimin had accidentally mentioned you in an interview, a...live...interview. there was no going back. hoseok had no choice but to admit that he was in fact in a relationship and only revealed your name. he didn’t want to expose you to the whole world. seconds after revealing you year long relationship, your phone lit up. one notification. then four. then sixteen. more and more. many started following you and began asking you questions. you became so overwhelmed by it all. many begged other to support you and even messaged you saying how attractive you were from pictures you had posted. however, there were a selected few who had the opposite opinion. they began to attack you. all of this happened in the span of a few minutes. your first thought was to call hoseok. he was in the middle of an interview but his manager secretly handed him his phone. hoseok beamed and blushed, flashing your pet name caller id to the crowd who screamed. he answered, “hey, y/n.”

“hoseok, i hate to interrupt your interview but...the fans...they’re all over me.”

hoseok’s smile dropped. he took the phone away from his ear. “i know this is sudden and a surprise,” he started, “but please leave them alone. i hate to say this but if you don’t support my decisions, then you really shouldn’t call yourself my fan. the fans that i love to death would love both me and whoever i am with. please, don’t be mean and give them such comments.”

you sighed. “hoseok?”

“i’m here.”

“you didn’t have to do that.”

“i wouldn’t want you to go through such negative things.”

kim namjoon

you and namjoon had no choice but to reveal your relationship to the public. you and him had tried to hide it for months, but somehow, a picture of you two together was taken, reports of you two were all over the internet. there was just no hiding it anymore. namjoon finally made the announcement. at first, things were relatively calm. maybe the public and his fans were just a little shocked. it got to a point where it was always a topic on interviews. a question relating to that was asked and it broke your own heart but namjoon replied, “you can hate me, but please don’t hate them.”

many were supportive. “it’s not right to hate them just because they’re dating namjoon. they’ve done nothing wrong.”

it got to a point where fans were harassing you on the internet and eventually in public. you were able to ignore them for a while. but one day when shopping with namjoon, some girl ran up to you and dumped ice cold water all over you. and namjoon couldn’t hold back. “a fan is someone who not only loves and admires someone, but also supports them. if you don’t support me or my significant other or any of our decisions, the exit is right behind you.”

park jimin

it began with a few messages online. those things you could ignore. you could just log out and delete the app, even shut down your account. that simple. but somehow, someone had found the place you had worked at. you don’t know how but they did. first it was a note, “you don’t deserve him.” and then more notes, eventually getting to flat out hate mail. someone that obviously didn’t like that you were dating jimin was out to get you. and they knew where you worked. the mail lasted a few weeks. you ignored them and decided not to tell jimin yet. he didn’t need to know. his focus should be on his career. but they started to get worse. each letter was making you more scared and anxious. you eventually couldn’t take it anymore so you took a few days off. jimin hadn’t noticed a thing but one day, while looking for a specific article of clothing, he saw a box. opening it, he found every single thing the anonymous being had wrote. he immediately called for you. you knew it was coming. he questioned you about it and you answered all his inquiries. you had begun crying and admitted that they were the reason why you can’t bring yourself to go to work. jimin pulled you into his chest. “i just wish you had told me earlier. this all could’ve been over a lot sooner.”

“i know. i’m sorry.”

little did you know, jimin went to the police about it and they found out that a coworker had been sending all the letters. it explained how they knew where you worked.

kim taehyung

you and taehyung were at your apartment. you had a movie on when he showed up at your doorstep. naturally, taehyung got excited and told you to restart while he made some popcorn. so now you were laying in his lap, all the lights off and all the curtains closed. the only light was from the tv...for the first half of the movie. the second light source came from your phone. once wasn’t a bother. but eventually, it wouldn’t turn off because of the number of notifications. “love, maybe you should check those.” taehyung suggested.

you reached over and checked who they were from. your mood immediately dropped but you hadn’t told your boyfriend about this issue yet. in fact, you didn’t plan to. “it’s nothing.”

“they clearly need you if they are texting you that many times. who is it?” he asked, a mischievous smile of his face.

“none of your damn business.” you replied, pretending to ignore him.

but taehyung was quick and snatched your phone. he laughed as you reached for it but you eventually gave up. you waited for him to open your phone and investigate. his smile dropped as he scrolled through your phone. “who’s ‘y/nisabitch01′?”

you shrugged.

“’i hate you.’ ‘you’re not even pretty.’ ‘you think you’ll get attention for dating taehyung-oppa?’ please tell me you don’t actually believe this anti-fan?”

you shrugged again. “love, this is harassment. why haven’t you blocked her?”

“i felt that that would make things worse.”

“do you really care about that? it’s okay to be a little selfish at times. i’m reporting her for you because i don’t like the things she’s saying about you. they are not true.” taehyung told you. 

you looked at him. you truly loved this man. 

jeon jungkook

you were crying in your bedroom. you couldn’t take it anymore. all the hate for dating. yeah, you were dating the maknae one of the most popular kpop group in the entire world. but they were giving you so much shit for it. and a human being such as you can only take so much. it all caught up to you when someone confronted you on your way home. this woman had called you out of so many things, things that were most certainly not true. but now you were thinking, “i’m not worthy enough for him. i don’t deserve him. i’m not even that great.”

jungkook had noticed your unusual silence throughout the day. there was always one conversation where you and him use memes and fight over the smallest thing. but when he started one...you apologized. something you had never done. he decided to confront you about it. he wasn’t sure about what was going on. he walked into your apartment, having gotten in with the spare. he heard your cries. they were loud so you couldn’t hear him enter your bedroom. you were momentarily started but his sudden approach. he hugged you tightly. “why are you crying?” 

you shook your head, not really wanting to tell him. “yah, please tell me.”

you sighed and explained to him your recent encounter. jungkook was shocked that someone had actually personally walked up to you just to tell you you were worthless and didn’t deserve to be dating him. “baby, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” he reassured. “you’re not worthless, you’re not talented, you’re not ugly. i love you so much and it hurts me that someone is telling you these things. please let me know if this ever happens again.”