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purpleyoonn · 1 year

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baby (you complete us) 6

C H A P T E R S I X

Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

Chapter Warnings: not much, aftermath of dislocation, insecurities, anxiety attack, mc rethinks her decision, boys being sweet,

*Words in Italics are spoken/written in Korean*

masterlist // chapter 5 // chapter 7

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Previously on baby (you complete us):

“Thank you, Namjoon. You are right. I don’t think I would be too comfortable staying with you all so quickly.” You were shy admitting that, the boys could tell. It had Yoongi scooting down further in his seat. Jin practically pouting at the thought of you not wanting to stay with them, but he knew you needed time.

By the time it was time to hang up, Emilia had come back over and told you that you were going to be leaving in a couple of minutes.

“Well, I have to get going. I should be in Korea within an hour maybe? I’m not too sure.” You tell them, truly thankful for them, and glad they didn’t mention your hip again.

“Okay. Well please let us know when you touch down and when you get to the hotel.” With that, you say your goodbyes and you buckle back up into your seat.

You love women. That’s it.

Emilia was absolutely the sweetest person you had every met. Once the plan took off and left the Tokyo airport, she came and sat by you and asked you in the politest way what had happened and if there was anything she could do in her own capacity to help you. She brought you a heating pad that she found in the medical bag on the plane and helped you rest your leg on the seat in front of you.

She spent the rest of the hour-long trip talking and laughing with you. You found out she heard your phone call with Namjoon but didn’t hear any specifics, just understood that you found your soulmates and that you were on the way to meet them.

“They must be super rich if they are flying you all by your lonesome to meet them.” You could only nod at her, laughing a little bit at just how right she was.

By the time you got to the airport in Seoul, you felt that you made a friend, even if you knew it would probably be the last time you saw them.

You sent the boys a text in the group chat that you had arrived and would be making your way to customs. However, you didn’t expect for someone from Bighit to be waiting for you when you got off your plane with a wheelchair. The wheelchair had your name printed in script on a sign and the man holding the wheelchair seemed like a huge body builder. Scared you a little bit and had you pausing with your cane.

You hadn’t even grabbed your suitcases yet, waiting for them to be unlocked from the compartment they were in within the plane.

“Are you Miss Y/n?” The man had pushed the wheelchair over to you, his words soft, completely the opposite of his physical appearance.

“Yes I am, uh..” You trail off, not at all knowing who the man was but you saw his HYBE lanyard and badge.

“I am Songun, Miss. I am here to take you to your hotel. I was also told by Mr. Kim to tell you that you do not need to go through customs due to your special passport.” You blink slowly at him, in your own head trying to figure out why you don’t need to go to customs.

“Oh, okay.” You go to move forward when you hear someone moving behind you. Turning around you see one of the attendants with your luggage.

“Thank you.” You smile at the man before grabbing the handles. It was a little difficult since you needed your cane but you made it work. Until Songun came over.

“Please Miss, I insist.” He gestures to the wheelchair that now has no sign on it. He helps you into the chair while talking in Korean to a man that was behind him.

“Lee, grab her things. We need to be quick.” The man nodded before grabbing your luggage, walking behind us as Songun began to push you towards the exit. It was still light out as it neared three in the afternoon. And you were hungry. And needed a good soak in the bath.

“Alright Miss. The hotel is only about a twenty minute drive and I will help you check in.” You nod at Songun as you maneuver yourself into the back of the vehicle. It was really spacious and you almost fell asleep at the feeling of the comfy backrest.

Songun and the other man get into the front seats, leaving you along and looking out the window at the scenery.

Seoul was different than anything you could have imagined. The closest you could think of would be a busy Sacramento at night on a Friday. But this was way more. It was peaceful in the way that you knew no one would think to look at you as you walked by. Everyone at home would stare as you walked with your cane.

It was busy in the way you could see hordes of people in every direction. The deeper you got into Seoul the more entranced you got.

“That is the HYBE building Miss.” Songun pointed out as you drove past, your eyes trailing to the large building. You knew the boys were in there at the moment, the tingling in your chest and the burning feeling in your mark telling you they were near. It had you pushing down the feeling to run to them, to just complete the bond with them before they could change their mind.

That’s what you think you were most afraid of. That they would change their mind about wanting you.

You only had to wait five more minutes before the vehicle pulled into an underground entrance. The parking garage for the hotel seemed to be a private one, Songun pulling out some papers to be allowed in.

Once you were allowed in and parked, Songun insisted you get back into the wheelchair. You tried to tell him that you were fine using your cane but it wasn’t working.

“I’m sorry Miss. Mr. Kim insists you use the wheelchair until you are at least within your room.” You wonder if this was the same Mr. Kim who he spoke of before. If he was talking about who you were thinking of, then there were at least three “Mr. Kims” he could be mentioning.

Too tired to argue or complain, you comply and get into the wheelchair, the same man moving to grab your bags from the trunk of the car.

The hotel was simply the nicest thing you had ever seen. It had a huge gold chandelier in the middle of the room and chairs you knew were too expensive to sit in just beneath. The entire room screamed “rich” to you and made you feel like you should be staying somewhere else.

“Uhm, Songun? Are you sure this is the correct hotel?” You turn your head to the Bighit employee, obvious apprehension written all over your face making the man smile.

“Yes, Miss.” You just nodded your head, thinking the man was probably sick of your questions by now.

You sat as he rolled you up to the front counter where the receptionist smiled brightly, as if waiting for your arrival. She looked from Songun to you, glancing behind you to the man who you still didn’t know his name before looking back to you.

“Welcome! Can I have the name for the reservation?” She looked at you, thankfully speaking English as she moved to start typing on her computer.

“Uhm… I’m not sure what the name would be under.” You tell her before looking up at Songun. He tells the woman Jin’s name, causing the woman’s eyes to widen and her mouth to open for a couple of seconds before she switches, her mask coming back on and her fingers typing wildly at the keyboard in front of her.

“Alright, Mrs. Kim. Here are your key cards, along with a pin for access to the amenities within the room. Breakfast is at eight o’clock. Please enjoy your stay.” She gestures for someone behind you, making you turn around, packet in hand, to see a bellhop like you’ve only ever seen in a show when you were a kid, with the luggage cart and everything.

However, the bellhop moves away when the man holding your luggage walks past him, Songun shaking his head, refusing the service and moving you towards the elevator.

“Miss, please move one of the cards in front of that there.” Songun motions to a pad like thing on the wall in place of a button. You cautiously remove one of the key cards from the packet and swipe it in front of the pad, watching as the elevator instantly opens.

“Wow.” You mutter, unable to hold back your amazement.

Once Songun wheels you in and the man holding your luggage comes into the elevator, the doors close. You see the buttons on the wall and holding your key card in front of you to see your room number, you press the number that corresponds to the floor you were assigned. You were pretty high, you thought, as the elevator took its time to move to the 7th floor. You smiled, wondering if the floor number was a coincidence.

Once the doors opened, Songun once again pushed you out and to the right, moving down the floor until you came to a room on the left side of the hallway. Not needing the hint, you moved the card in front of the familiar pad on the wall on the side of your door. When the door opened, Songun spoke up.

“Okay Miss. Mr. Kim’s instructions were to stay out of your room for your privacy unless you tell us otherwise. Would you like any help getting inside?” You think about it, silently thanking the boys for their detailed thoughts.

S“No thank you, Mr. Songun. I think I’ve got everything from here.” You move to lock the wheelchair so you could get out.

Holding onto the handlebars, you slowly move up and out of the wheelchair, not noticing Songun’s hands up and near your back, there to help you if needed. You turn around and test your weight on your left hip, only feeling a little pain. You deem this good enough and move to put your cane on your arm again. Adjusting your duffle on your shoulder, you grab your luggage from the man and thank him.

“Here is my number. I have been assigned to you while you are here. Please let me know if you wish to leave the hotel.” Songun hands you a card that includes his business title and number. You nod at him again, before thanking them for the help.

Closing the door behind you, you slowly figure out how to make your way to the bed where you place your luggage on the edge before sitting down. You were beyond tired and even the room couldn’t bring you to widen your eyes in amazement.

The bed was bigger than anything you had ever seen and the room was the same. On the wall opposite the bed was a large dresser and entertainment center, a very large television attached to the wall above it. There was an opening to the left of the dresser which seemed like a hallway. From the bed you could only make out a large tub? That seemed to poke out from the right of the end of the hallway.

To the left of you and just past the entryway that seemed to house a small shoe closet, there was a large cabinet that was floor to ceiling, making you wonder if it was clothes closet. To your immediate left and right were nightstands. On your right was a sitting area with a small couch and a very comfy looking recliner chair. A coffee table was in the middle of a circular rug, marking the sitting area, and was aimed at the television.

Past that, was the large glass, sliding doors that opened up to a small balcony, accompanied by a small table and chair set.

“I’ll explore everything tomorrow.” You spoke aloud, now alone to your thoughts.

Now that you were here, in South Korea, about to meet your soulmates, everything seemed to hit you at once. You could feel the tears begin to fall from your waterline as you laid back onto the bed.

Ten years.

You waited ten years for your soulmates.

Never did you imagine even a similar scenario for where you were now. You never dreamed that this could happen. Yeah, like most people, you dreamed for your soulmate to sweep you off your feet, or to be someone famous who could take care of you. But this, this was that times a hundred.

Would they even be able to support you on your bad days?

Would you be able to support them?

A sob breaks through your lips as the thought comes to you. You could barely support yourself and your needs most days, how in the world were you going to be able to support and help seven world famous men.

At this point, your thoughts were spiraling deeper, making you think this was just a huge mistake. That you would never be able to fit into an already established soulgroup and be able to love and support the boys.

Your phone had been ringing for a couple minutes now. You were unable to hear it through your sobbing and had missed two calls from Namjoon now. Once you were able to calm down enough, physically not mentally, you could barely hear the generic ringtone you had set.

“Hello?” You managed not to sniffle as you spoke.

“Hey, baby. We were just worried a little. We wanted to know if you made it safely to the hotel room?” Namjoon’s dulcet tone soothed what little worries you had floating in your head. It was as if they didn’t exist. You don’t know how he did it, but you were able to relax into the bed now, feeling how comfortable it was on your aching back and hips.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You wiped the stray tear from your cheek and sat up a little, groaning at the stretch to your hip. “I was in the bathroom.” Your excuse was light, the boys catching it quickly, but no one said anything.

“That’s okay. As long as you made it.” Taehyung’s husky tone made you want to groan again, for a different reason entirely.

“I made it.” You say back.

“Well, we are all sure that you want to rest so we will let you go.” Namjoon speaks up but Jungkook’s voice is heard at the end.

“Wait! Are we going to be able to see her tomorrow?” You squint your eyes, trying to figure out why he said to wait.

“Err, Jungkook wants to know what your plans are for tomorrow?” Namjoon changes Jungkook’s question a little, not wanting to pressure you.

“Uhm..” You hadn’t thought that far ahead. You knew they probably were hoping you would want to go and meet them, feel the soul touch and complete the bond. But your fear of the unknown had you wanting to step back, to stay trapped in the hotel room and fly back home after the week was over.

“I don’t want to bother anyone…” You begin to say, unable to form the sentence you want to say.

“You won’t ever bother us.” Yoongi’s tone is blunt as he cuts you off, reminding you of the first video call.

“We are not busy tomorrow.” Jin’s voice tags onto Yoongi’s, making you wonder if he could read minds.

You are reminded of the all-access pass the boys sent you for the HYBE building. You remember Songun pointing it out for you on the way to the hotel. Maybe you could walk there in the morning? Do some sightseeing and grab some coffee? You hope the minimal Korean you tried to learn on the plan was sufficient enough to get you by.

You were kind of at a standstill, Namjoon realized. You didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask them if you could visit them tomorrow, and none of the boys wanted to make you feel pressured to see them so early.

“If it’s okay with you, maybe I could visit in the morning? I’m not sure what time I’ll wake up but I plan on going to bed soon.” Your voice was entirely unsure, and you weren’t confident in your words, something the boys noticed and had their heartstrings tugging.

“That sounds perfect, baby.” Namjoon’s dulcet tones once again managed to calm your racing heart. Anything you let them have, anything you were willing to give, they would happily take. They were just happy you were giving them a chance, anything else was a miracle.

“Okay.” You whisper back, still not sure what to say to them.

“We will let you rest, okay. We—” Namjoon paused, seemingly catching those three little words on his tongue.

“Thank you for coming.” Yoongi interjected, seeing his younger mate stumble on the sentence they all wanted to say.

“Goodnight.” Your smile was small as they said goodbye.

Putting down your phone and plugging it into your charger, you finally notice the small basket on the side table by the door. You walk over to it, moving slowly so you don’t bug your hip any more than you already did. A small smile grows on your lips as you see a couple of Korean snacks and candy along with a bottle of red wine and a bank card?

You grab the note in the basket to see that it was written by one of the boys, probably Namjoon.

You made it!

We are happy that you are here and hope you like your room.

We have each picked out some snacks that we enjoy, with the hopes that you too might like them. We have also included a bank card that is attached to our soulmate account for you to use while you are here. Please use it. We want your time with us to be free and fulfilling and don’t want you to have to worry about anything.

Your boys,

They each had signed their name to the bottom, giving you the wistful feeling that rose up your back. Their words and actions made you feel cared for and had you slipping the bank card into one of the slots in your wallet, not entirely sure if you would use it or not. You moved back to the bed, sitting down on it and feeling the way your muscles relaxed into the bed.

You didn’t realize how much hearing their voices had calmed you down, had made you feel relaxed. Relaxed enough to fall asleep with your shoes on and your feet hanging off the big bed.

Next Chapter

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daichiduskdrop · 9 months

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 18

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: just slight reminders of events from 17th chapter

Words: 3759

A/N: Hi! So, I did the poll, and at the time when I started writing the story, it was 50/50 jeju island and Hawaii. I decided to do Hawaii as it feels a bit more interesting for me, but Jeju island will be in the story too sometime! :)

If anyone would want to have some bigger part of the story (like fav musicians -other than K-pop, or favourite colour, favourite clothes brand, food spot...) Just DM me or write it in the comments. I'll include it if it goes well with the story :))

Thank you for voting. And reading, I value you a lot.

Lots of love

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Soon the engine roared to life, but still, the Alpha made sure to pay close attention to the road. It was still terribly slippery.

They wanted to get you home as quickly as possible, knowing that you needed to rest and just hang out for a while with them. They were lucky that most of them didn't have to go to work today.

Smiling at you reassuringly, Jimin turned on the radio, switching to an omega-centred station that mostly consisted of soft, lo-fi-like music that was recommended for the second gender to listen to, especially on longer car rides.

The pack definitely wanted to go out with you sometimes and plan a nice trip and vacation, and so most of the alphas that were driving had already purchased subscriptions for many omega apps and radio stations, ready for any occasion.

A lot of marketing was targeted at packs that had an omega, having the softened-up alphas pay for stuff in hopes their small baby wouldn't start crying during a long car ride, on a plane, or on a boat.

It was usual for them to be very cautious and not really notice the price of anything when it was targeted for omegas.

So the second you enter a store—pretty much any type, going from grocery stores to electronics all the way to many restaurants—a selection is labelled with a small 'O', marking it as perfectly safe and made specifically for the second gender.

A lot of people made messy money off the worried packs. If their omega was sick, the pack would naturally grow worried and overprotective, ready to buy anything to make them feel better.

The second a shop assistant catches on, if they feel like it, they can start making stuff up, claiming that things that will most likely not help definetly will. It could be easy to mislead the pack members if they aren't careful enough.

The car ride was quiet and quicker than usual; soon the car was already parked, with the garage doors automatically opening after Jungkook called a phone number.

Climbing out, the alphas were quick to help you, opening the doors for you and pulling you gently out. Keeping a hold of your palm, Jimin once again hugged you closely, still able to smell how off your scent was.

„There, there, princess. It's all well now, hm? Come on, let's go in, my baby.” The alpha mumbled, smiling softly at you and nuzzling your nose with his, making you smile a bit.

Jungkook called the number again, waiting for the garage doors to close while he locked up the car and pocketed the keys.

Looking back at you with his packmate, the youngest giggled gently, ruffling your hair. „Let's go bunbun. Hold Alpha's hand... There, what a good girl.” He smiled at you, holding your other hand.

Leading you to the garage entrance, the whole room was huge—much bigger than any one you ever saw in anyone's home. It was much colder in here, and so you huddled to yourself, letting yourself be ushered to the doors.

Opening the metal-like doors, Jungkook led you both through, ending in a white halfway, and the alpha led you through, leading you after himself. Soon your small group appeared at the long, halfway full studios and a few other rooms, like the gym.

And so, you were in the kitchen in no time, the eldest alpha sitting at the kitchen table, a few cups and pots before him. Shooting up at the smell of you all approaching, he rushed over right away, pulling you to himself.

„Oh my god, sweetheart, I was so scared that something happened... God... Come here, let me hold you for a minute, cub."

Jin mumbled to himself, folding your head to his neck and letting you smell his scent gland while he went over the top of your head with his chin, scenting you gently.

You felt his lips gently flutter over your hair, but as soon as they came, they were gone. His scent drenched you quickly; the roses bloomed softly on your nose.

The other two alphas walked off, dispersing around the room. Washing their hands, Jimin and Jungkook went around the kitchen, noticing that the alpha was cooking a few meals already.

„Are you making pastries, Hyung?" The youngest asked, looking at the sizzling fish-shaped pan.

There was already a bit of the sweetened red bean paste inside, and so the alpha closed the pan carefully, turning it over so the shape would be achieved.

Looking up from coddling you, Jin still left his fingers in your hair, running it through gently. He kept his eyes soft, watching you fondly.

„Mhm, it's Bungeoppang; do you like those babycub? I was hoping you would; I made them very sweet for you, my baby.” He said, running his knuckles over your cheeks.

Nodding quickly, you always enjoyed tayaki, the sweet treat your grandparents would sometimes buy you at the food courts back when you lived in Japan.

Your grandmother bought the special-shaped pan too, and she would make it for you and your siblings often too.

„I really like it; thank you, Oppa." You said, looking into the alpha's eyes. Your scent must have brightened up; you were quite excited for once.

„Good. I'll finish them up for you quickly, okay?” He said, ushering you and Jimin over to the TV, Taehyung suddenly appearing from upstairs.

He noticed you right away, rushing over and taking you in his arms. „Babycheeks...” He whispered, crushing your face against his neck, still mindful not to hurt you.

Holding you close to him, he bended over to your neck, taking on a strong whiff of your scent. Running his cheek over your neck, scenting you.

Pulling away for a second, the alpha looked into your eyes, his hands on either side of your face. He watched you with concern and worry, but when you only smiled softly to him, he sighed out, pulling you to himself once again.

„Aish... Taehyung-ah, stop hogging her up!” Jimin called out, already seated on the couch. Sighing out, you noticed just the smallest growl building up in the man's chest, but he complied nonetheless.

Letting you take a seat first, you had the older alpha to your left and Tae sitting down to your right. Patting your knee gently, Jimin handed you a soft brown jumper.

You recognised it right away, smiling to yourself. You whispered out a thank you, pulling it to yourself.

Relaxing on the couch, the alpha smiled at you, brushing his fingers through your hair and turning on the television.

„-undance of marine biodiversity. Under the surface, a kaleidoscope of colours unfolds as we dive into the vibrant coral reefs. These underwater ecosystems are a haven for countless species, each playing a vital role in maintaining the delicate balance of this underwater paradise.

One of the most iconic inhabitants of these waters is the majestic sea turtle. These ancient creatures, known as Honu in Hawaiian, gracefully glide through the ocean, their gentle presence a symbol of wisdom and longevity. We witness their serene beauty as they navigate through the coral gardens, a sight that leaves us in awe.”

Gasping softly at the adorable shots of the small turtles swimming through the waters, you fell in love with the view before you.

It looked so peaceful and bright there. The water looked crystal clear, so the bottom of the ocean was visible, and the sand dunes were easy to see. With a few of the corals in the distance, the big turtle and the small cub swam around the underwater cameraman.

„As we venture further, we encounter playful pods of dolphins, their acrobatic displays a testament to the joy and freedom of life in the ocean. These intelligent creatures captivate us with their synchronised movements and infectious energy, reminding us of the boundless wonders that lie beneath the surface.

Hawaii's warm waters also serve as a sanctuary for the magnificent humpback whales. Every year, these gentle giants embark on an epic migration, travelling thousands of miles to the Hawaiian Islands to give birth and nurture their young. Witnessing their awe-inspiring breaches and hearing their haunting songs is an experience that leaves an indelible mark on our souls.”

„Oh wow, the dolphins are awesome...” Taehying mumbled, watching the screen closely.

Laughing at his amazement, the older alpha looked over. „I mean, we saw them in real life too some time ago, do you not remember? On the ship?” He said this, watching the other alpha.

„I remember Hyung, but this is very different. Imagine diving with them and-”

„Yeah, well, I bet the second you are at the open ocean, you'll piss your pants.”

„Yah! Hyung-”

You didn't pay much attention to them while watching the colourful shots of the mammals in the documentary.

„I would like to see...” You mumbled to yourself, your eyes glued to the content. You were amazed.

The two men immediately stopped bickering, and you had them look over immediately. Any unnecessary agitation was gone right away, and their eyes are now much softer.

„The dolphins?” the older man asked, rubbing your upper back gently. You never got to see such creatures in real life; you only got to swim in an ocean very rarely. Sure, you knew how to swim, well...kind of.

You weren't too confident, and your family hardly ever went to a swimming pool, so there wasn't much space for you to get better.

You were always a bit too scared to go on your own, not sure about what you would be doing there alone since you wouldn't be really able to swim a few laps just like that.

Plus, you were always a bit too worried about the changing rooms and the experience overall.

Lately, it has become a huge trend in many big public swimming pools and aquaparks to get rid of changing rooms for men and women and instead build a whole new one, placing both genders in the same ones.

Sure, you wouldn't have to go and change next to the lockers anymore; instead, you would enter a hallway full of double-sided small changing rooms, similar to the ones in clothing stores.

Once you lock those with a barrier, you just change into your swimsuit and come out on the other side, where you lock all your things and go to shower and swim. You just never felt too safe in those.

„Thousands of tropical fish, like the vibrant parrotfish and the elusive Moorish idol, dart among the coral formations, creating a spectacle of colours and patterns. These reefs are not only a visual feast but also vital habitats that support a myriad of marine life.

Behind the scenes, dedicated marine biologists and conservationists work tirelessly to protect and preserve Hawaii's ocean wonders...”

Nodding shyly, you didn't realise that they would immediately start paying so much attention to you, taking your silly, not too deeply thought-out idea much more seriously.

„You want to go diving, princess?” Jimin asked, looking at you with soft eyes. Seeing you nod gently, the alphas have already started to plot many ideas on how to fulfil your request.

„In the sea, baby? On which island would you like to go, sweetie?” Taehyung said, turning to you, his eyes set on you.

Humming to yourself, you didn't really expect them to take it too seriously, so you didn't think for too long. There weren't many times you actually thought about going on vacation to a completely different country.

There was never enough money to even talk seriously about such a topic, and so you never really paid too much attention to the expensive resort ads you would sometimes see online.

Pointing over to the screen before you, there were a few cinametic shots of the island coastline, the ocean waves washing over the sand.

Smiling to themselves, the alpha on your left ran his chin over your head gently, smiling to himself. Taehyung was already looking up luxurious resorts and was quick to open a few websites.

„Okay princess, alphas will figure everything out for you, my baby.” He said this, hugging you close. He watched over his younger packmate's shoulder, looking over the villas he had already started scanning through.

He knew Taehyung would choose a nice place to stay. They didn't care about any prices; why would they even have to?

They didn't have to care if it was 2.000.000 or 8.000.000 ₩ per night; as long as the place was comfortable and beautiful, and mostly if you liked it, then everything was okay.

„Bunny, come have some of the pastries!” The youngest called out from the kitchen, watching closely as you waddled to stand up, making your way over to him.

Smiling widely at you, he made sure the fish-shaped food was cooled down before he handed it to you, letting you take a big bite while he bit down on another one he took.

They were crunchy but soft on the outside, and they were so sweet, you were immediately smiling.

„Is it good peaches?” Jin asked, running his hands over your back. Nodding virtuously, you ate even more, happy with how it tasted.

„Slow down cub, don't eat so quickly... There you go.” He murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear. Soft with his eyes, he smiled at you when you were slower.

Savouring the flavour, you quickly finished. Handing you another one, you bit into the pastry again, the men around you chuckling softly at your eagerness. They were glad you were eating well.

The door opening alarm went off, having all of the alphas turning to look at the entrance. Shuffling in, Hoseok smiled towards all of his packmates. Noticing you, he was quick to come closer, dropping the grocery bags on the floor before he rushed over.

Picking you up, he held you to his scentgland, running his arms up and down your sides softly, breathing in your scent. There wasn't much of a hint of sadness or anxiety, and so the man was reassured.

„My sunshine... I'm so glad you are okay; you gave us quite the scare there, bub. Oh- I bought you some sweets, here let me-”

„Did you buy the banana milk?”

„Hyung, the cake, you bought it for me, right?”

The two youngest asked, both of them going in-between, so the alpha had to put you down unwillingly. Taking you into his arms instead, Jimin was quick to hug you instead.

„Yah! Hobi-ah, your shoes are dirty; are you crazy? I just cleaned the floors too, aish...!” Jin shouted, not meaning it too much. Pulling him back to the entrance, the younger only laughed, trying to make the other alpha let go of the strong hold on his wrist.

Picking up the grocery bags, Jungkook carried them over, quick to sort through them, pulling out a few foods and beverages. Finding a whole carton of the banana milks, he smiled widely, carrying them over to the fridge.

With Jimin's hands wrapped around your waist from behind, you relaxed against his warm chest while he leaned against the counter. Nuzzling you, the alpha was careful to pay close attention to you, not holding back from much scenting anymore.

Just then, the entrance doors unlocked again, and the last men from the pack walked in, their carry-on bags thrown over their shoulders.

With Namjoon closing the doors after himself, the older man had already kicked off his shoes, hung his coat fast, and was already hurrying in your direction.

Noticing that no sobs could be heard, he felt himself calm down slightly, but not much could be done until he had you in his arms.

Seeing you in his younger packmate's arms, he felt his heart soften. Cooing quietly, Yoongi pulled you from Jimin's hands, carefully picking you up.

Helping you wrap your legs around his waist, he held you up, folding your head to his scent gland.

He felt his eyes gloss over; he grew so worried and stressed after the call ended, not knowing what exactly was happening.

He was anxious enough already, not having you in his sight as it was, but after he received the call, he grew overprotective like never before.

Breathing in the soft strawberry scent you held, he felt his shoulders sag, blinking away any tears before they might fall. Holding you close to himself, Yoongi embraced you strongly, feeling his chin shake a little.

Noticing the change in mood, the eldest looked over. Seeing his younger packmate get emotional after being so worried for your safety warmed his heart. He cared a lot for his pack.

Walking over, Jin ruffled the second oldest's hair, patting your soft, small hands that clutched around his neck in the meantime.

He didn't say much else, realising full well that Yoongi would never forgive him if he picked on his emotions. He would never, really.

Letting his lips brush against your temple, the alpha took a few shuddering breaths before he started to calm down. Patting your hair gently, he ran his chin and cheek over your head virtuously, making sure you were drenched in his heavy alpha scent.

„Don't scare me like that, my sweetest kitten. Alpha was very worried, my good girl.” He whispered in your ear, placing you down on your feet carefully.

Checking over your face, he brushed your hair away from your eyes, caressing your cheeks. Smiling warmly at you, he stepped away, realising that the packalpha also needed to have his moment of reassurance that everything was okay.

Stepping over, Namjoon too picked you up, but instead of cradling you and staying mostly in his spot, the alpha carried you over to the couch, and all of the other men quickly came to sit down too.

Holding you to his chest, he let you rest against his collarbone and breathe in the warm scent he always held, his warm hands just holding you close for a minute or two.

Resting his head back, the alpha felt himself calm down, any agitation and worry soon dissipating. Resting his eyes for a few seconds, he breathed out before he sat up well again, still holding you close.

„...what happened, sweetie? Tell alpha now, my baby." He mumbled, coaxing you gently to answer. With his fingers gently running over your temples and cheeks, he, too, occasionally scented you like all the other packmates.

Sitting all around you, they allowed you to speak, listening closely. With the hoodie once again between your arms, all the alphas paid close attention to whatever went so badly this morning.

„The poster I m-made yesterday... The laptop it was on bro-ke, and it just wouldn't open, so my cla-classmates...” You spoke softly, your fingers clutching on to Namjoon's.

Running his thumb gently over the top of your hand, the alpha listened in closely.

„It broke? Like completely? Where is it? Let me take a lot, my sweetheart." He answered, looking around as if to spot your backpack.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jungkook stood up from his spot on the sofa, realising that it was still probably in his car. He told them quickly and went back to the garage to regain it.

„...y-yea it just... It didn't work, and the teacher got very... angry." You whispered, regaining the older man's sharp words you received this morning.

Frowning, most of the alphas leaned in, now truly interested. If someone even dared to be harsh on you, the pack would be quick to get rid of any issues. No one would get away with being bad to their omega.

„Angry? Why? The laptop broke, so obviously you wouldn't be able to show him your work. That's not your fault, sweet princess; you know that, right?” The younger alpha said, his hand gently running over your calf.

Looking away, you sighed.

„Seonsaeng-nim t-thought I didn't do it and just used it... as an excuse. My classmates weren't happy either.” You mumbled, wiping away any of the growing tears.

Quick to shush you, the packalpha tried to think clearly and not dwell on any assumptions he was currently making himself. It was hard, though, especially after he felt your shoulders shake a bit against his chest.

Shushing you sweetly, he held you closer, cradling you against him.

„That's bullshit; you literally did it with me yesterday. Absolutely fucking not. What's your teacher's name, kitten?” Yoongi could feel herself getting angrier.

Already looking up your school website, he was quick to scroll to the contact information, finding the phone number for the man in question.

Just then Jungkook came back, and the backpack opened before you. Taking the grey laptop out of it's pocket, the youngest alpha opened it, the few men around him looking at themselves.

Not much happened; the logo shined brightly on the black screen, making the packmate frown a bit.

„Your classmates, did they say something sunny?" Hoseok asked, sitting next to Namjoon. Taking a hold of your hand, he rubbed it gently, smiling at you encouragingly.

You could sense the anger rolling off of him already; the waves were strong and noticeable. You also realised more than well that it wasn't against you, not one bit.

Not sure where to start, you just nodded a little, feeling yourself start to cry softly. You didn't want to disappoint your group like that; you didn't mean to. Chin-Hae and Sun-Hi just didn't seem to understand that too well.

Cooing at you loudly, the packalpha hugged you once again, swaying you from side to side softly.

„Aigoo, my pup, don't cry, baby... No, no, no, it's okay, sweetheart, everything will be okay, hm? Alpha's are here, my baby; you're okay." He whispered, mindful to keep his voice soft.

Patting your hair gently, he watched as Yoongi stood up, a phone already held to his ear. He could hear just the faintest voice on the other side, and soon the alpha returned the favour, though his was kept much harsher.

He wasn't going to be making any jokes about you. If people wouldn't be nice to you when they weren't around to protect you, he would most definitely take immediate action.

Walking off to his soundproof studio, the rest of your packmates huddled around you, occasionally patting you and rubbing your back softly, gently coaxing you to tell them what exactly happened.

And you did, eventually explaining in a few stuttered-out sentences. revealing some of your past encounters with your classmates and teacher, it only added up.

And so, when the alphas got the whole story, they were more than livid.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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bullet-prooflove · 21 days

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Buried Socks: Brock Reynolds x Reader (SEAL Team)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @alexlynn16 @caffeinatedwoman

Whenever Brock goes on deployment he takes the plushie you won at the Salute to the Summer Fair with him. He tucks it in his bag, bundled in his clothes so that it doesn’t get messed up during the travel between warzones. He always makes sure to hand the bag off to Davis because the one time he didn’t, it disappeared and he almost never saw it again.

That toy, it’s become his good luck charm, the thought of not having it near him gives him bad juju as Sonny would say.

“It looks just like Cerberus.” You’d smiled as you’d lifted the rifle to your shoulder and peered down the sight line. ��I’m going to win it for you.”

It had been your first date and he’d invited you to the fair because he thought it was more your style than dinner at a fancy restaurant. The two of you have been in each other’s orbits a handful times over the past three years and it always ends with you fucking each other’s brains out. It’s only recently it had turned into more because you’re both stationed in Virginia Beach. You finally have a shot at something real.

“Nobody ever wins at these things.” He’d told you because he’s just spent ten bucks trying to do the exact same thing before he’d handed you the gun.

“You forget…” You’d murmured as your finger had come to rest on the trigger. “I’m one of the best snipers in the country.”

He smiles because if there’s one thing Brock never forgets it’s that. It’s the reason the two of you met. You’d been assigned to a mission he was on after Ray had injured his shoulder. Clay was still on medical leave recovering from the explosion that messed up his leg so they’d had to bring in an outsider because they only had one shot at taking down the target and that window was closing.

First active duty female sniper in the US Army, Brock had been fascinated by the legend that came with you. They’d all heard about it, it was big news at the time but they’d never laid eyes on you. As always came the challenges because a woman couldn’t possibly be better than a man. You had run circles around every single one of them.

At the booth you make every single one of those three shots and Brock goes home with a plushie that looks exactly like his best bud. It’s the first time a woman has ever given him a cuddly toy and the night he tells you he’s fallen in love with you.

It’s been a couple of years since then and now the two of you are living together in a small house with a backyard that Cerberus digs up whenever you’re going on deployment. In the weeks leading up to it there’s always a charge in the air, he thinks the dog picks up on that which is why he decides to steal your socks and bury them. It’s his way of trying to get you to stay.

Right now Brock’s laying on his bunk, the encrypted laptop resting on his chest as he waits for your call. You left for deployment in Pakistan a week before he jumped a plane for Afghanistan. The countries are right next door to each other. In some ways it feels like your neighbours, ones with thousands of insurgents dividing the two of you.

His laptop starts to chime and he hits the button to accept the call, your face appearing in his view.

“Hey.” You say with that beautiful smile of yours and Cerberus’s ears twitch at the sound of your voice. “Are you missing me?”

Cerberus is on his feet in an instant, he jumps up, his front paws coming to rest on Brock’s arm as his handler tilts the screen so that the both of them are in view.

“Not just me.” He tells you, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “We can’t wait to get back home and unbury those socks.”

Love Brock? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#Brock Reynolds x Reader #brock reynolds #seal team

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elisysd · 8 months

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6.If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Feeling the sun on her face and breathing the sea air were things that she didn’t know she had missed. It was good to be back home. She stepped out of the plane and made her way towards the exit. She heard footsteps behind her and the shadow of her dad soon next to her.

“Excited to be home?” he asked her.

“Yes! I can’t wait to see mom and Louis, I missed them.”

“I missed them too.”

They were not surprised to see Lyanna waiting for them, casually leaning against a pillar, texting on her phone. Probably with Louis, checking on him, thought Julia. She knew that her mom hated to leave him alone but Julia had managed to convince her after multiple attempts that Louis was fifteen and that he was old enough to be on his own. Reluctantly, she had agreed. Julia knew that his brother needed a little bit of freedom, even if he wasn’t asking for it out loud.

It was as if Lyanna felt them somehow. She looked up from the screen and as if there was a magnetic force attracting Julia’s parents towards one another, her eyes found Charles and a bright smile showed up on her face. She started walking in their direction and as Charles opened his arms widely she started to walk faster and found her place in them. Julia gave them a little space, not wanting to interrupt their moment. And she loved watching them. She didn’t know any other couple that fought as hard as her parents’ to keep their marriage afloat when they hit a rough patch a few years ago. They loved each other too much and were never scared to show that in public. It was sometimes a little disgusting and Julia loved to make fun of them, along with her uncle Arthur and her godfather Pierre.

“My Juju!” Lyanna finally turned towards her daughter and took her in her arms, squeezing her until Julia couldn’t breath anymore.

“Mom.. I hate that nickname.”

“You loved it when you were four.” argued Lyanna, her head buried in her daughter’s hair.

“I’m not four anymore.”

“Lya, love, you are suffocating her.” laughed Charles.

“I missed my baby.”

“I was only gone for a month… Go bother dad.”

“I will bother your dad later tonight, for now, it’s your turn.”

“I really don’t want to know what you mean by that.”

They made their way out of the airport entrance and to the parking lot, before heading home. Much to her surprise, Charles let his wife take the wheel. Julia knew how much her dad hated letting other people drive and how an awful passenger he was. She still had nightmares about the time when Charles teached her how to navigate the streets of Monaco. It had come to the point where she almost had begged her mom to take over her lessons. But for some reasons, he never tried to argue with Lyanna when she was driving.

The ride home between Nice’s airport and Monaco was silent, with Charles drifting off to sleep and Lyanna focusing on the road. Julia took the opportunity to look at her notifications and she was surprised to see a message from Ethan appearing at the top of the screen.

Available tomorrow? I want to go over the details of our fake relationship.

Hello to you too. Yes I had a nice flight thanks for asking. And yeah sure, where do you want to meet?

The answer was immediate.

My place. See you tomorrow.

She rolled her eyes, fighting with the urge to reply with a sarcastic text . Sure she was not expecting anything else from Ethan but still, she thought that he would at least try to not be a total ass to her anymore. But some people would never change, she guessed. They finally manged to make it home after being stuck in traffic. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she could her barks coming from inside the house. Then the door opened on Louis that was struggling to keep Bailey from jumping on Julia and Charles. But as much as he tried, Bailey was a smart dog and managed to get out of his grip, bouncing on Julia and starting to lick her face.

“Yes, my girl, I came back. Slow down!” she laughed trying to keep her face away from the very enthusiastic dog.”

“She missed you. She was always near your bedroom door and that’s a sign that she was waiting for you. And then, I told her you were coming back this morning and she started to bark and to be really agitated. She’s clever.” said Louis.

“I missed her too, but I missed you more.” Julia replied while standing up in taking her little brother in her arms making him contort his face in disgust.

“Yeah, well I’m your brother, we are family, it’s normal to miss family.”

“You can just say that you missed me too, you know.”

To annoy him a little bit more she squeezed him a bit harder before finally releasing her grip. She looked at her dad who was watching them with a tensed smile.

“Hey Louis” he says, taking a careful step towards his son.

“Hello, dad.”

“You look good.”

Louis shrugged and Julia almost internally screamed. She wanted to push her dad towards her brother to stop him from standing so straight and looking so uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know what to do with his body and Louis.

“Yeah. You were not gone long enough for me to show any sign of physical change. It’s not biologically possible.”

She saw her dad flinch, as if Louis mentioning him gone had a deeper meaning that just Louis stating facts. Julia knew her dad felt responsible somehow for neglecting Louis by not being here for the early part of his life. As if him being more present would have changed something. He felt guilty and that guilt was preventing him from acting normally around his son. Something that Louis picked up as he was over sensitive and could easily feel people emotions even if he didn’t recognise straight away what they were.

She caught her mother looking and they exchanged the same look of disappointment.

“Well, I made chocolate muffins, so let’s go inside before Bailey decides to eat them all. She was really interested by them earlier.”

“Can’t wait, they are my favourite.” said Charles.

“I know, that’s why I baked them.” added Lyanna.

They spent the rest of the day talking and laughing about everything and nothing, until late in the evening when Louis decided that he had enough social interactions and was tired.

“So… I heard what happened to Ethan.” said cautiously Lyanna.

“Yeah, it’s a shame really. He doesn’t deserve that.”

They both looked at Julia who felt nervous all of a sudden.

“Funny, how you don’t say that it’s his karma.” noted her mother.

“Dad asked me to play nice and to be mature about Ethan. That’s what I’m doing. Don’t believe I’m not fighting the urge to say that he deserves what is coming for him.”

“And that’s my daughter. I was starting to think that F1 had already messed with your head.” playfully joked Lyanna.

“I just hope, for Ethan’s sake, that his team will find a way to get the truth instead of letting him being dragged in the mud from left to right.” spoke Charles.

“What are the other teams saying about him? Did you hear anything from Lamborghini? and Christian” asked Lyanna.

“No, we don’t talk about that stuff during Team Principals’ meetings.”

The conversation started to die down and Julia took that as an opportunity to go to her room. She was not feeling comfortable commenting on Ethan’s case. Not after agreeing to save his ass and lying to her parents. She kissed them goodnight and as soon as she was in her room and in her PJ she fell on the bed and soon drifted in to sleep.

She slept until the beginning of the afternoon. Noticing the time she was surprised a mother didn’t come any sooner to wake her up. Once she was ready, she headed to the kitchen to eat something before going to Ethan’s place. She was feeling anxious, not knowing what to expect from him or even the situation she found herself in. To not make it any suspicious she was wearing her running attire. No one would consider that weird if she was telling her family that she was going on a run. Normally, she would go with her dad, that was something they liked to do together but still it wouldn’t be suspicious to anyone.

On her way out she crossed path with her mom who was apparently coming back from grocery shopping.

“You head out?” she asked surprised.

“Going on a run and most probably walk on the beach. I don’t know how long I’ll be away so, if I’m not back for dinner don’t wait for me.”

“Okay. The usual path?”

“I don’t think so, I’m trying something new. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“You have your phone with you, right?”

“Yes, mom.”

“You call if something happens.”

Julia nodded and kissed her mother’s cheek before starting to jog. As soon as she was out of sight and away from the house she took the direction of the bus stop that would lead her to Ethan’s flat. Finally arriving to the address, she was surprised to find the flat in a rather quiet area, away from all the buzzing events than the city could offer. The building was pretty with old architecture but it was rather small and not very fancy. She would expect from Ethan to show off and seeing that it was not the case threw her off of her feet.

There was not even a security guard. She buzzed the inter phone and the entry door unlocked, letting her in. She took the elevator until the fourth floor and found the flat that was at the end of a long corridor. Walking towards it felt like walking towards her death. She breathed in and out and finally knocked on the door. It opened slightly before she felt a hand around her arm pulling her inside. She stumbled a little bit, almost colliding in Ethan’s chest.

“What is wrong with you?” she pestered.

“I don’t want anyone to see you around. It would make people talk.”

“Isn’t it the point of what we are about to do? Instead, it’s making me feel like I’m taking part in a giant drug traffic, or something illegal.”

“Well, we are doing something illegal. I gave you everything so you can cheat…” he said, unbothered.

“No shit, Sherlock. As if I wasn’t aware…”

There was a pause during which she took the opportunity to look at her environment. It was not what she imagined. It was unfurnished beside what was necessary. It was… empty, impersonal. It felt more like an hotel room than a home.

“Are you going to use them? The manufacturing plans, I mean…”

She sighed. It was not something she had decided on, yet. She tossed and turned in her bed all night long, trying to figure out something but for now, she wasn’t sure on what she would do. The USB drive was hidden between two sweaters in her suitcase to avoid temptation. Still, it was not enough to prevent her from thinking about it.

“I don’t know… You gave me a bomb that could explode any time.”

She sat on the sofa that was placed in the centre of the room as Ethan made his way to the kitchen, without a world, and brought back two glasses of orange juice and some crackers. Julia arched an eyebrow but Ethan ignored her. He didn’t feel like fighting with her today. He took place on a chair, in front of her and looked at her.

“So how should we do it? Should we just be seen out together and let people draw their conclusions and go from there?” he asked.

“Yeah sure, throw me under the bus… Your fans will just tear me apart.”

“And you think you are funny… I was thinking of paying paparazzi to leak pictures of us in the press. Without your face being seen so it would not feel too weird for both of us. We could go eat somewhere?”

Julia scrunched her at the idea. it would mean going out with Ethan, interacting with it and refraining to stab him with a fork.

“Your back would face the windows so you wouldn’t have to fake being happy to be with me, it’s me who would have to do the job.”

“You say that like I’m not a pleasant person to be around.”

“You’re not.”

She stuck her tongue out to him.

“Very mature of you.”

“You bring the best parts of me.” she replied.

“Anyway, of course no one can know, especially not our families. They would be disappointed and that’s something I don’t want. And the less people know that we are faking it, the less the chances are for a scandal to happen.”

“At least, that’s something we can agree on. We are going to have a hard time convincing them.”

“Are you kidding me? My mother will be ecstatic, she was waiting for that to happen. You don’t even know how many times I heard your name casually popping in a conversation when she was talking about my celibacy…” said Ethan.

“I don’t want to know. Keep that information to yourself, please.”

“So? what do you think of my plan?” he asked.

“Not bad. I’m surprised you came up with a decent plan. I think that we should keep our relationship on the down low for a few weeks, just for the time to let the rumours spread and then a few weeks of soft launching and a hard launch? Maybe around Monza, with all the European races. It would be two months and a half from here. Enough time for prepare people and make it believable to our friends and families.”

“Well for someone who was very much against the idea, you sure gave it a lot of thoughts. Monza will attract a lot of attention. Ferrari and Maserati race at home. The press will go crazy. A Verstappen-Leclerc couple in the paddock? A romance between two rival teams? We would be like the Romeo and Juliet of F1.”

“Well hopefully we won’t have the same fate as them…”

“What do you mean?”

“They die at the end. I don’t want to die.” she explained.

“It was a metaphor, Joolsie.”

“How do you know what is a metaphor?”

“I might not have been at school all the time but I graduated high school. With honours, if you want to know everything.”

She was genuinely shocked. Not that she thought that Ethan was stupid but she never thought that he would have time to study with his career.

“Don’t make this face. It was my mother’s only condition if I wanted to keep racing. If my grades were bad or if I didn’t graduate, I could kiss racing goodbye. It didn’t matter if I was good or not. So needless to say that I studied my ass off for the exams.”

They agreed to meet the next day in a quiet area of Monaco, in a very nice restaurant whit a cosy and intimate atmosphere. It was not a crowded place but it was not empty enough for them to be totally incognito.

That fateful day of their first fake date, Julia felt sick in her stomach. It was not nerves filled with excitement. It was more of a ‘I’m going to throw up the entire content of my stomach and my bowels with it’ kind of nerves. She dreaded meeting Ethan. She didn’t know what to expect or how she should act towards him. She started to regret agreeing to it. The whole thing was a big question mark and if there was something Julia hated more than Ethan, it was unanswered questions. She tried going through her entire wardrobe, putting clothes on her bed in an attempt to find something that was wearable for a date but not too much since it was not a real one. Her head was going to explode. She finally settled on a nice black dress. It was not much but it would be enough. She put her hair on messy bun and applied some make up. She looked good. Not amazing but good enough for Ethan.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw her mom stopping on her doorstep, freshly cleaned sheets in her arms.

“Going on a date?” Lyanna asked.

Julia stutters, not knowing what to say. She never really talked about boys with her moms. She just remembered her mom silently booking her an appointment to a gynaecologist when she was sixteen and her hormones started acting up. But since then, her mother would never tease her about anything or try to pry into her personnal life. If Julia wanted to talk, she could and she had in the past, but her mom was never one to force her to talk about things when she didn’t want to. She was grateful for that.

“I’m going to meet some friends.”

“Friends? Do I know them?”

“I don’t think so. I meet them in the paddock. We got along and they live near by, so I thought… why not going out?”

Since when did she start to lie to her mom so effortlessly? Lyanna looked at her with a puzzled look on her face.

“You, making friends and going out? Who are you and what did you do to my daughter? Not that I’m not happy to see you doing twenty-three years old stuff. It’s just surprising. But keep going sweetheart.”

And then she left her and let her finishing getting ready. As she was heading out, she crossed Louis’ way. He was coming back from the living room, with a book under his arm. When he saw Julia he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her up, then down.

“You are meeting a boy.”

It was not a question. It was a fact and Julia couldn’t help but act as she was a doe caught in the headlights of a car. She felt her skin burning and tried to look for an easy way out.

“You are wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. And heels. And you are going out. When a girl is dressed up and goes out it means that she meets friends or a boy. You don’t have friends. So it’s a boy. Are you on dating apps? Because that’s where people meet nowadays.”

“I… I’m not on dating apps. And even if I was, it’s none of your concern!”

“Do you know the amount of people that were in big trouble because of these apps?”

“I don’t. And no, I don’t want to know.”

“Does dad know, you are going to meet a boy?”

“He doesn’t and please Louis, don’t say anything okay. It’s not even a date, it’s a casual outing.”

“Is it the secret code for hook-ups?”

“For the love of God, Louis! No! And where did you learn all that stuff? And don’t say internet or I ask mom to put your computer acces under parental control!”

“Percy. Daphne’s brother. He talks about these kind of things when he messages me.”

“Well, maybe I should text Daphne and tell her that she should watch he brother, then. And what is it with all the questions?” she asked, checking her phone to make sure she wouldn’t be late.

“It’s just questions. I don’t care about who you meet. I’m just wondering, that’s all. And I won’t say anything. Not that I would have anyone to tell, anyway.”

She finally managed to get out of the house, managing to not cross her father’s way. That would have been the last straw. Almost an hour later, she finally arrived to a restarurant that gave a beautiful view on the harbour. Ethan was already there, in a corner and waved at her as soon as she stepped inside. She sat face to him, her back was facing the window, just as Ethan promised. The place was packed but no one seemed to care about them, which made her relax a little. Still, it was awkward. None of them knew what to say and Julia realised that they never had a normal and proper talk before. Whenever they were alone somewhere, it would always turn to bickering and fighting.

Finally, after making small talk between the drinks and the first meal, Ethan took matter in his own hands.

“Why do you hate me?” Ethan broke the uncomfortable silence.

“I could say the same. Why do you hate me?”

“I asked first!”

“Doesn’t mean that I have to answer first!” she countered him.

The old couple at the table next to them started to stare at him. Ethan faked a smile as Julia emptied her glass of water.

“I guess… it has always been there, no? We are both competitive people, we’ve always wanted to prove that we were the best. And you’ve always been pretty annoying. Little miss perfect.” he tried to explain.

“You were no better. Always pushing my buttons. And you were the teachers favourite!” she said.

“Oh please, you were the teachers’ pet!”

“I was not!”

“You were!”

Ethan sighed as Julia leaned back against her chair, her arms up against her chest. The waiter came back to give them their orders.

“Joolsie, if we want it to work, we will have to stop bickering for everything and nothing.”

“Well first of all, stop calling me Joolsie, I’ve always hated it.”

“Nope, sorry, you’ll have to deal with it. I like it too much to stop.”

She dug her fork into her salmon, shrugging as he was softly laughing. Awkward moments turned soon into a conversation about the season and motorsport, Julia talking about upgrades and engines conception while Ethan was talking about his feelings in a car. How speed had something liberating for him and how he felt like, sometimes, there was the only area of his life where he had a semblance of control. Finally, the evening went by much faster than what they were both expected. As they exited the restaurant Ethan was expecting to see her walking to her car and was surprised when she seemed to be walking home, by herself.

“I can drive you back if you want.” He told her.

“I think I’ve seen you enough for the day.” she replied.

“Oh come on Joolsie. It was not that bad, some might say that it was fun, even.”

“It was bearable.”

A soft smile was playing on her lips.

“Bearable? Be careful, I’m going to think that you start to appreciate me.”

“No. I still don’t like you, I still think you are an ass and I still think this is a bad idea. But, maybe you’re not as much as the asshole you were when we were younger.”

“Did you just compliment me? Am I dreaming? Did Julia Leclerc say something nice to me? Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital? Did you hit your head somewhere and I didn’t notice?. ”

“And there you go. Why did you have to open your mouth? We could have ended the night on a nice note but no, you had to make a stupid comment!”

She stomped her foot on the ground and that made Ethan laugh louder. She shook her head and started to walk away when he scurried towards her.

“Joolsie, hey! Don’t leave like that! I was joking. But I was serious, do you want me to drive you back?” he repeated his question.

“It’s fine. I think I still have a bus to go back home.”

“I’m not letting you take the bus, I have my car, it’s settled. You come with me.”

“Ethan, I’m telling you it’s fine!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!” she argued back.

“You are hopping in this car and that’s final.”

She knew that it was a fight she would not win, not today at least. She took her time, weighing down her option before finally agreeing to come with him. He drove her home in silence. They were both tired and knew that if one of them was saying something it would only result in a stupid fight. Ethan parked near the house but not near enough for someone to notice him. Julia was about to step out of the car when she looked at him.

“Well, thank you. You didn’t have to and then again I could have taken the bus, but thank you. You were a decent human being, for once.”

“And then it’s me who is the one that is making unnecessary comments…”

The lights were off when she opened the door. Everyone was sleeping soundly. She took off her heels that were hruting her feet and proceeded to silently make her way to her bedroom. As she was about to open her door, the one next to her creaked, startling her. She saw the lanky figure of her brother peaking through it.

“Louis, gosh you startled me.” she whispered to not wake anyone.

“I was waiting for you to come back. So I could make sure that you were still alive.” he confessed and Julia couldn’t help but melt a little.

“I’m okay. I made it home in one piece.”

“Was your date nice?” he asked.

“It was not a date.”

And she was not lying. It might have seem like one from the outside, but she knew it was not.

“I saw you getting out of the car. And you parked under a lampost wich was a stupid idea. I could see you from my window, it has a view on the street. If you don’t want anyone to see he should have parked at the beginning of the street.”

“It’s noted.”

“The car seemed nice. It looked like a sports car. I couldn’t recognise the brand, my eyes are not that good.”

Julia held her breath, not knowing what to say. He looked at her, pensively.

“Is he a driver and that’s why you don’t want me to say you’ve been on a date? So dad wouldn’t get mad. Because I thought about it and you would have had time to meet someone while being away. You must have met a lot of drivers. So my guess is that you met one tonight. And they are not a lot of drivers living in Monaco so I think you are seeing Ethan.”

“Okay inspector Louis, I think you watched too much of crime shows.”

“I don’t care, you know? Whether you see Ethan or not. Your secret is safe with me, I won’t tell anything to mom and dad. And even if I’m wrong, I’m just happy you found a boyfriend because you deserve to have someone you can rely on. It’s going to be weird for me because I will have to share you. But it’s like that. As dad says. Does that mean that I will have a big brother? It could be nice. I just hope he will never make you sad because then, I’ll be sad too.”

And that’s when Julia knew that she could never, ever, say to Louis that Ethan and her was just a lie.

Author's note: My baby Louis, how I love him. And I love Julia and Ethan's banter too. They are just the cutest.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #f1 story #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc

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theworldaccordingtotundeojo · 1 year

Text

THE POWER IS RISING

It’s Tunde Ojo and I have an answer to one of my many questions. The unanticipated power surges happening in nearly every country are not a coincidence. And this juju is not just something happening in Nigeria. At this point, I cannot consider this magic.

In the UK, people have witnessed lightning-like occurrences that have developed out of nowhere. In the US, planes have malfunctioned with no real warning and electrical poles continue to fail unexpectedly. The common denominator? Teen girls. As a global citizen, I’m concerned about our safety. All of us.

But as a reporter, I must be honest and say that I am intrigued. The Power, the only name I can call it by, has the ability to change the world. While we’re watching the beginning of whatever this may be, what could happen if these powers go uncontrolled? Could this mean a complete reversal of society? The disruption of centuries-long power dynamics?

I know we are not oblivious to the fact that the rich, influential, and malevolent could use the Power for their personal and political gain. The world as we know it could be changing. I’ll report back with updates when I can. Please follow to stay informed. And, wherever you are, please stay alert and aware.

#thepower #thepoweonprime #booklife #booklr #journal #journalism #investigation #primevideo #the power #the power on prime #toni collette #surreal #supernatural #fiction #fact meets fiction

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dougielombax · 3 months

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I’ve just had the WORST idea for a recurring gag in Doctor Who!

Any time the Doctor is subject to psychological torment, they have to watch Adric die again and again and again in increasingly convoluted and comically stupid circumstances with no way for the Doctor to stop it.

Such as:

Suddenly getting run over by an ambulance, hit by a robotic arm, a stray bullet, trampled to death by a crowd of stampeding pedestrians, falling down a comically long flight of stairs, accidentally electrocuted, death by coconut (LOOK IT UP!!!), dancing too hard and dying (NO ADRIC! DON’T JUJU ON THAT BEAT!!!), getting lost in fog and disappearing, mathematical calculation gone wrong (oh wait, NO!!!!), nuclear fission warhead, chemical reaction gone wrong, falling into a geyser, premature obituary, crushed by the falling debris of a space satellite, hit directly by a meteorite, hit by a train (not even ON the tracks), attacked by BEES!!!!, disappearing helplessly into the void, sucked into a black hole, hit by a cricket ball, bucket of water, contempt of court, sucked into a jet engine, MRI machine accident, instantly frozen to death by a combination of liquid nitrogen and witchcraft, crushed by a falling bookshelf (and the books), exploding leaf blower, THE SLUDGE, loophole exploitation backfire, feedback loop, escaped crocodile, skydiving accident (no parachute), a very menacing pomegranate, sudden nonexistence, airborne fire hydrant, sudden depressurisation, bomb disposal gone wrong, evicted from reality, TOUCHING THE SNAIL, killed by a giant crab, falling out of a window, trying and failing to define Xnopyt, sudden blood loss, random organ failure, hit by a falling pear or some other such fruit, falling into a volcano, getting lost in a corn field, roadside fever, eaten by a wall, showered with gifts and promptly smothered, ambushed by a boar, slowly kicked to death, assassinated with a bucket, suddenly exploding, spontaneous combustion, revolving door accident, tripping over a pig, killed by an ostrich/emu/cassowary/some other flightless bird, ricin, prank gone wrong, cable car accident, locked in a cupboard, falling on a turnip, tsunami, laughing too hard at a joke, dragged through a briar patch, rolled up in a rug, falling through a roof, stray poisoned arrow, mistaken identity, falling out of a plane or helicopter, Olympic flame lighting gone wrong, heart attack, sudden explosion at a computer server bank, special tree, sudden and severe information mismanagement, swallowed by a whale, turned into a marketable plushie, FICTIONALIZED, crushed by a vending machine, trampled by an angry hippopotamus, etc.

And any other sort of ridiculously circumstantial and comically convoluted deaths.

“ADRIC, NO!”

*dies again*

Yeah.

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bonvoyagenoona · 2 years

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Hideaway (M) | Epilogue 7

Pairings: Jin x female nicknamed reader (“Friday”)

Rating: 18+ | Mature | Explicit

Word Count: 8k | read on ao3

Synopsis: Yoongi comes to you with some news, forcing you and Jin to have a conversation that you’ve always needed to have, which involves one Park Jimin.

Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Fluff and light, angsty smut (oral, fingering, biting, nipple play / nipple sucking). Discussions of cheating. Characters have some pretty toxic, misogynistic traits at times, but they’re slowly working through them.

Author’s Note: This is the setup for the next part of the Hideaway series, the Jimin spin-off BREAKAWAY! Can be read as a standalone, but best read after the series, as you’ll get some flashbacks of past Hideaway events from Jimin’s POV. Hope you enjoy, and see you soon!

Preview:

When Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, you know that he knows what you and Jin have just been doing, and he’s sorry that he keeps interrupting you both when you’re seemingly having the best sex any two people in the world are having at any given moment (and especially now that you have two kids and don’t get to have it as much).

But he needs your help.

“Around 9 AM.”

“Completely dark?”

“No trace.”

A sweaty, shirtless Jin strides into the living room, wearing the baggiest pair of sweatpants that he managed to find in the dark.

“This better be good.”

Yoongi looks up at the ceiling.

“Jimin’s gone.”

Taglist: @apprentlyeveryusernameistaken @awinkies @babycoffeefire @bluejin0812 @btseditsworld @codeinebelle @dearbambideer @downbad4yoongi @dreamamubarak @dvalitaes @effielumiere @elyte @firesighgirl @floralseokjin @ggukkieland @greezenini @helenazbmrskai @hobiiiiiworld @imaginativedreams @jimcartop @jkkit @kflixnet @lynnloveslokiredacted @m-yg93 @miscelunaaa @missbickerbocker @mochilatae @morti13 @pb-n-juju @purpleheartsfortae @skyys-universe @somewhereofftheglobe @sumzysworld @sunnietee @svgahigh @yuugehn

Yoongi operates on a completely different frequency altogether. The decades that have led you to be the ring on Jin’s left finger have also demanded that you intertwine with his right-hand man. And the more time you’ve shared with Yoongi — not just the classes or piano recitals or ragers, but the plane rides and work dinners and hospital stays — the more you’ve come to understand him. You can speak his language. Rudimentary, but comprehending.

So, when you open the door to see Yoongi standing there, staring at the floor, you already know what has happened.

“How long ago?” you ask, as you pull your silk robe sleeve along your still-bare arm.

Yoongi walks through the door that you have just opened wider. He’s still staring at the floor, counting 8, 9, 10, before looking up.

But he needs your help.

“Around 9 AM.”

“Completely dark?”

“No trace.”

A sweaty, shirtless Jin strides into the living room, uncaring that his cock is still hard, but wincing at it straining against the baggiest pair of sweatpants that he managed to find in the dark.

“This better be good.”

Yoongi looks up at the ceiling.

“Jimin’s gone.”

Jin scoffs. “That’s news, how?”

“No trace,” you echo, brows rising.

Jin rolls his eyes, folding his arms. His chest strains, biceps bulge, and cock twitch.

“So?”

You let out a small sigh, partially due to your frustration with this Jimin situation, partially due to your annoyance with the cavalierness that you always think Jin has long grown out of by now, but mostly due to that cock twitch, and the frustration that you feel in your chest, stomach, and still-wet pussy, all of them tied up in needy, yearning knots.

“What does that mean, anyway, ‘no trace’?” Jin goes on, either completely oblivious to what he’s doing, or completely purposeful, and over the silvery moon with the way you’re both reacting.

Yoongi keeps trying to avert his eyes, but there happen to be a lot of reflective surfaces in your glossy, glassy, stainless steel, blissfully billionaire kitchen. Giving up, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It means that we can’t find him.”

“Just because he hasn’t texted you back in, what, 18 hours?” Jin snorts. “Jimin’s a grown man. We all are. Stop being so whiny whenever any of us fall off your radar to go live our lives. And, on that note—”

He reaches his hand out to you.

“C’mere. I wanna pick back up from where we left off.”

Yoongi grunts with a mix of annoyance and disgust. He really wasn’t expecting this kind of a reaction, but he also isn’t surprised, given that these interruptions have been happening a little more as of late. Still. Jin should know better. Yoongi doesn’t like to waste any time.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important. I need your help.”

Jin sends him a dismissive flourish. “Get one of Namjoon’s nerds on it.”

“We did,” Yoongi says, moving with you toward the kitchen, his black, leather Hermes bag swinging in his grasp. “We tracked his phone to his office.”

Suddenly, Jin tenses and gasps. “Wait, then maybe—” His palm flies up and pushes the air in front of him. “And, I-I know, I know, controversial, but just hear me out on this—” His eyes widen. “Maybe he’s—”

And just as suddenly, his face falls flat, in every sense of the word. Brows parallel to the floor. Nose suddenly unbridged. Lips uncurled.

“—at work.”

You’re never sorry for this, but for once, you are. You’re sorry for being the reason so much blood has drained from Jin’s head. He clearly isn’t thinking. When it comes to work, Jimin isn’t like you and Jin. Jimin hasn’t set more than the tip of his big toe in that place since he officially inherited it. There’s no chance in hell he’s there at three in the morning.

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “We found his phone in his middle desk drawer. Which was locked.” He looks at you, eyes softening. “We had to break in.”

The peculiarity of it all. It’s starting to rattle you.

Yoongi’s black bag thwump! s onto your kitchen island, and you let out the rest of the breath you’ve been holding.

“It took a while, but we hacked into his accounts. Thought we might scan for major purchases, or maybe freeze his cards to try to glean something about his whereabouts based on what move he made next.”

Yoongi pulls out his laptop, aiming to show you all the triangulation he’s done. But all you see are just a bunch of blank, lightly gray-outlined squares. Spaces and spaces where Jimin isn’t.

“It’s gone,” Yoongi says, the first crease of worry wrinkling his forehead.

Jin finally looks… something. You’re not sure what. But you’re glad it’s something other than horniness causing a casual disinterest in a friend disappearing.

“…Did someone swing by? Check up on him?” he asks.

A second crease of worry etches into Yoongi’s forehead.

“It’s all gone.”

He pulls up a series of pictures taken at dusk. What was once Jimin’s extravagant loft has been stripped bare to its skeleton, filled with a luminous but ominous orange and listed for 37 billion won.

Jin pulls the laptop toward him and peers at the photos as if they’re Magic Eyes. If he puts his face close enough to the screen and relaxes his gaze, hopefully, Jimin will magically appear.

“You check his place uptown?”

“And the building he’s renovating,” Yoongi affirms. “Checked the usual hangouts, too. His box seats. The underground tunnel to the club. The theater. I called his parents, who, as expected, didn’t seem to care all that much that I was looking for their son in the middle of the night. Literally no one has seen him.”

You start to see the sweat and crud in Yoongi’s pores. You didn’t think Yoongi even had pores.

“Namjoon’s team is still working. Taehyung and Jungkook are trying to track down more of the undergrounders.”

Yoongi meets your increasingly concerned gaze. Over the years, he’s learned your language, too.

“Hobi went to the club, then the bar, then the lounge, then back to Jimin’s office to get a list of recently acquired clients,” he continues. “He’s going through them one by one, emailing them, calling them, or just popping up.”

At this point, the Jung family is synonymous with the entire concept of security. They’ve created solutions for every door, window, car, phone, computer, and cloud computing platform imaginable. As a result, the MOTS 7 partners are supposed to be untouchable. So you can only imagine how hard Hobi is taking this. How deeply personal of a failing he’ll consider this to be.

You clear your dry throat.

“Flights?” you try.

Yoongi meets your eyes. “None.”

“Did you check his pseudonyms?” Jin asks. “Mr. Magnum Polla?”

“We checked. Nothing under that name,” Yoongi confirms.

“Mr. Lebâton Gros?”

Yoongi sighs. “No.”

“Mr. Oki? I forget the first name he used with that one, though.”

“No , Jin. Nothing.”

Jin furrows his brow. “Really? He usually loves going out with a bang.” He blinks. “Guess he’s not living up to his names.”

Though you married him in part for that sense of humor, Jin is doing the opposite of breaking the tension.

You take a deep, deep breath and try to move things along.

“Alright, Yoongi, seems like you’ve thought through everything that can be done right now. What else is there to do? How do you think we can help?”

Yoongi’s look is one of desperation. It’s all-consuming. Rotting him from the inside out. How many times has one of the guys — more often than not, Jin himself — put him in these difficult situations? And how many times has he been able to think those situations through, pretty much single-handedly?

He doesn’t like to waste any time. Especially when it isn’t his to waste.

How many precious minutes have gone by? Will they make all the difference?

“We need to go public.”

The suggestion lands like a breeze block in your stomach — heavy, but full of holes. Yoongi wouldn’t have mentioned it if it weren’t necessary. But involving the law enforcement, putting out a statement, organizing a press conference, and generally calling attention to the challenges of your insular and sometimes dangerous world opens Jimin, and the rest of the group, up to certain vulnerabilities.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jin decides immediately. “It’s been less than a day! Besides, even if he were taken hostage—”

Yoongi’s sneer tells you that it’s all but a foregone conclusion, and it’s wasting time to pretend like it isn’t.

“—then there’d be a ransom note, or a threat, or—”

“They’ve already got him.”

Yoongi has lost almost all patience, driven mad by images of a bruised Jimin, a bleeding Jimin, Jimin missing a finger, missing an eye, with a scar, all flashing through his mind on a continuous, torturous loop.

“I’m sure of it.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and his pupils start to form spirals, like the one Yoongi has been tumbling down for the past eighteen hours.

“Whoever they are, they’ve got him, and they’ve drained him.”

Yoongi’s throat is starting to close up. His neck flexes, Adam’s apple bobbing to try and push the words out. You’ve never heard his voice so thin.

“So, now, they have no use for him, and if we don’t find him in the next few hours, then—”

“Yoongi, goddammit — we had a fight, OK??”

It’s hard to judge how to react. Brains latch onto the oddest things when they’re in a loop, and onto even more bizarre things when you’re thrown for one. You think, funnily enough, of a turducken. A monstrosity of confusion stuffed into frustration stuffed into relief.

Yoongi seems to be poking at his own serving. “You had… a fight?”

“Yeah.” Jin sighs. “Last night, on my way home from the office, Jimin called to talk, and we got into one of our fights and…” Jin sighs. “And I told him to fuck off, once and for all.”

“What did you say?” Yoongi scowls.

“‘Fuck off, once and for all.’”

You’re not sure what’s worse: seeing Yoongi fall down a spiral of worry, or watching Yoongi completely detach.

He throws his laptop into his bag. He makes no eye contact with either of you as he fastens it. And not in the polite, hesitant way that he usually avoids your gazes when he knocks on your door in the middle of the night, but in a way that tells you he can’t stand the sight of you.

“He crossed a line,” Jin says in defense.

“Who even is Jimin if he isn’t crossing lines?” Yoongi scoffs as he lifts the bag from the island.

“I’ll find him,” Jin offers. “I’ll bring him home.”

The words come with such confident finality. Like he’s searching his room, instead of the entire world. WIth the kind of power he has, he frankly might as well be.

But Yoongi doesn’t look reassured. And he doesn’t look back as he makes his way to the door.

“Uncle Yoongi?”

Yoongi’s fingers freeze around the strap on his shoulder as the three of you turn and find a rumpled Junior standing in the hallway, no longer sleepy, but clutching the wall with his own tiny hands.

As quick as his eyes land on him, Yoongi diverts his gaze. Not out of anger, but protection.

“Uncle Yoongi, are you leaving? Don’t go!”

Yoongi hates wasting time, and that includes giving time to something that someone isn’t ready for yet.

“Ah, buddy,” Jin sighs, shaking his head at himself. “You, uh, didn’t have a scary dream or something, did you?”

“Wait! Uncle Yoongi! Friday!” Junior cries out, sensing what is about to happen. The diversion. The placating. The shuttling off to his room. “What happened! I wanna know!”

“It’s OK, sweetie,” you say.

Yoongi closes his eyes and sighs, incongruent with what he’s about to say in response.

“Not to worry, my liege.”

Junior wriggles in place. “B-but is Uncle Jimin OK??”

After flashing you a look, Jin moves away from the island and says, “Let’s go back to bed.”

Your heart twinges at the sound of Junior’s impatient whines, coming off the heels of his genuine concern. You try to ignore them as Jin carts Junior to his room. And you almost reach for Yoongi’s elbow as you follow him to the door, but instead, you decide to just let him lead.

He stops abruptly, body all in angles, eyes downcast but slashing you sideways.

He’d be well within his rights to slam your door. It hurts a little to see him unfreeze and then slip out while leaving that look hanging in the air, and the door swaying a bit in the wake of his exit. You tell yourself that he just didn’t want to worry Junior even more, or wake sweet, sleeping Namu. But you know that it’s more that Yoongi hates wasting time, and he’ll leave a sentence hanging without any punctuation if he needs to.

You’re still dressing the wounds of Yoongi’s sharp glance when Jin comes back to your room.

“I made something up.” He lingers in the doorway, unsure if the look on your face means he’s welcome or not. “Told Junior that Yoongi was just worried about Jimin traveling on his own. Like in The Little Prince.”

You stare at the opposite wall.

“That, just like The Little Prince, Jimin’s searching for his rose.”

You nod.

“OK. Friday. I can’t stand this.”

“He’s most likely fine,” you say gently. “He usually is, right? He just needs…”

You’re not entirely sure what Jimin needs. But given the details Jin has shared, you’re betting that Jimin’s at least safe, and, for now, that’s enough.

“No. Not him.”

When you turn back to Jin, you see nothing but remorse on his face.

“Me,” he sighs.

You tilt your head in question.

His eyes are round, and welling with tears. “I need.”

Seeing him like this, so twisted up and pained, brings back the ache in your chest.

You slip out from under the covers and slowly walk over to him, keeping your gaze on him as you take his face in your hands.

“You love me, right?” Jin whines.

He closes his eyes at your gentle touch, hand sliding up his cheek, bringing him closer to you for a kiss.

Before your lips land, you take another look at him. His eyes open again when he doesn’t feel you, and you both hover there for a moment, breaths floating in and out of one another.

“I do,” you whisper.

He grunts as he kisses you, his body jolting and starting as you bring your hands down his neck, down his chest, down his sides, to feel for the waistband of his sweatpants. He cups your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout, as you blindly untie the drawstring and tug downward.

“Wait, you’re OK with this?” Jin asks, breaking your kiss. “What we’re doing? Given—”

“I thought you wanted to pick back up from where we left off?” you ask with a grin.

Jin smiles, and relents, scooping you back up into that kiss, tongue running over your lips before splitting them.

He shuffles you toward the bed, leaving his sweatpants where they fell.

He strips you of your robe and uncovers your naked form, hands running up your waist, and moving inward to palm your breasts.

You moan as his lips travel down your neck, and his teeth find your collarbones, tracing their outline before making their mark. You gasp at the slight pinch, and all the pleasure it releases, starting to undo the knots that had worked their way into your body before.

You arch farther and farther back as he kisses down the center of your chest, and then you feel a pillow being laid underneath you. Your knees bending, and your feet resting flat on the edge of the mattress. And his lips and tongue finding your right nipple, starting to pull and tease.

You croon as he flattens his tongue over it, broad strokes massaging you and sending you reeling.

“That feels so, so good.”

Jin murmurs something as he palms both of your breasts, moving in circles and squeezing as he watches you squirm. Something about how he knows. How only he can send you there.

He whispers more as he kneels and spreads your legs. One swipe up your flesh has your hips rocking, and a swipe down, with the underside of his tongue, has you pressing your mound into his mouth.

You feel a finger, up to the knuckle closest to the tip. Your pussy clenches around it, unable to unlatch, even as he swirls it inside of you.

Jin sighs, chin dripping with your juices.

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking as he tries to work his finger in deeper, to his middle knuckle.

You’ve wanted it so bad, wished that you hadn’t been interrupted, but feeling lucky, and warm, and soothed that you’re feeling what you’re feeling now.

It’s easy to get greedy.

“More,” you whine.

He kisses your thigh. “Trying to. But you’re so tight.”

He dives back in, face rocking against your flesh, and soon, he’s able to slip not only that knuckle in, but his middle finger. He starts to thrust them in and out of you as he kisses and licks your clit, your unrelenting hips meeting his unyielding hand.

You shudder before your chest suddenly jerks up, waves of pleasure lifting you, compounded by all the knots that were in your body before suddenly being untied and released.

Jin grunts as he stands, watching and listening with rabid fervor as you sigh his name, his name, over and over again.

“Fuck.”

He slams into you, and you come again, your legs clasping around his waist, breasts bouncing as he starts to swing his hips back and forth.

You’re reduced to whines and tears, your hips climbing higher and higher as you feel his hands lifting your ass, grabbing you, and pulling him toward you on each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He falters, unable to keep at the pace he set, mind too heavy, or busy.

Your eyes flash open, and you see him squinching his eyes tight.

You run your hands over his forehead, swooping his hair back, getting some cool air onto him, and his face starts to relax.

You wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him down, and into you, the angle serving to extend your orgasm, already threatening to tip into overstimulation.

His nose presses into the pillow behind you as he thrusts. And he tries not to get distracted by your favorite, floral fabric softener, trying not to speak and biting his frustration into your shoulder instead.

“Jin,” you whisper, unworried as he pumps into you, your delight starting to spread. “I’m here.” You clench. “I’m yours.” You stroke his hair. You hold him close. You smile as your cheek meets his, and as your voice floats into his ear.

“I love you.”

You press a kiss to his jaw.

It opens, and he lets out a fulfilled sigh, finally feeling like he can fall apart, finally feeling safe enough to do so, knowing that you’re there, falling apart with him.

He collapses on top of you, sweating, cock pulsing, cum leaking from you and pooling where his left knee is sinking into the mattress.

He feels your mixed arousal against his skin.

“We need to change the sheets.”

Your hand runs down the bed, fingers spreading over the stain and collecting as much of it as you can.

“No. We don’t.”

You bring your hand to your lips and lick it off your index finger.

He loves how you know exactly what he needs to hear. What he needs to see. He nudges your fingers away from your mouth with his cheek, wrapping your lips up in his.

You aren’t sure how long you lie there, just kissing, pinching and tickling every now and then, bodies shifting positions when you feel like it’s time.

And you settle into one another, Jin lying on his back, you curled into his side, head resting on his chest, feeling slight puffs of air from Jin’s nostrils and staring at faint glimmers in the wallpaper on that opposite wall, both of you waiting for sleep to take you.

But it doesn’t.

His chest rises and falls with a controlled patience, a too- controlled patience that you’ve only really seen when he’s trying to get a grip on himself.

You ask anyway.

“What did you fight about?”

At first, you think that the only response that you get from him are those puffs of air turning into a soft, relenting stream. But then, he says, “Business deal.”

You don’t believe it fully when you hear it, so it makes more sense when, after a couple more puffs, he eventually adds, “I broke a promise.”

Your fingers tease the hairs leading down from his navel.

He sighs softly, belly curving up into your touch.

“What promise?”

He knows that he’s laid his insecurities at your feet, time and time again. That, as he gets older, he’s only filled with more questions than answers. More fear than confidence. But Jin starts to suspect that maybe this is the case because he’s always danced around the issue. He’s never told you exactly what causes him and Jimin to explode.

As ridiculous as it sounds, Jin’s afraid that if he tells you now, he could lose it all.

He runs his hands through your hair.

“After… Kwan…”

Jin braces for you to tighten. But you just keep stroking his belly, and waiting for him to finish his thought.

“We promised each other that we wouldn’t make moves,” he says. “Promised that whatever happened, it was up to you to choose. And I broke that promise—”

“At the hideaway,” you finish.

A flurry of memories rush forward.

His kiss.

His admission.

And you understand.

Sleep isn’t going to take you anytime soon.

“What do you think?” Jin asks meekly.

“I think…”

His hand still cradling your head, you turn and press a kiss to Jin’s stomach, before snuggling back into him and letting your hand stroke his thigh.

“I think that what you told Junior is right,” you say warmly. “Jimin’s like The Little Prince. Always thinking about his rose. But he’s a little mixed up about where she is.”

Jin can’t explain to you how quickly and fully those few words flood his body with happiness and warmth.

“I just don’t understand what he’s doing, leaving like this,” he mumbles. “Making Yoongi all worried. Making… everyone… all worried.”

You’re puzzled at how he’s missing the parallels.

“He’s pulling a You,” you remind him, “except he doesn’t have a Friday by his side.”

“Please. If anything, when I went to the hideaway, I was pulling a Jimin.”

Your hand comes to a stop at the center of his chest.

“Why do you think Yoongi came over tonight?” Jin asks. “It wasn’t to talk to me.”

As he falls silent, and those puffs of air dance across your hair, you realize that he’s right.

Jimin has had the thought for quite some time, but now, he’s pretty sure that he hasn’t seen something as unique as you before.

Eyes wide and clear, he watches as you whisper something to Jin.

He isn’t sure why this is particularly exciting. Nothing in 7th grade is that exciting. And you’re always whispering something to Jin.

But he can’t stop thinking about how long you’ve been working on that binder.

You stood in the stationery aisle, agonizing over your decision for weeks before finally picking it out, as the gang picked out snacks for weekly summer movie nights. You’re always hugging that binder to your chest when you’re opening your locker, choosing not to let it rest there, happy to tote it from class to class. You created detailed section dividers for the binder while Namjoon forced the gang to create character sheets for whatever new strategy role-playing game he was trying to get everyone to play. And though Jimin’s been rolling them into more spit balls for his arsenal, you’ve been saving cutouts of your favorite lessons from the packets you received in social studies class, carefully placing them in their special folder within that binder.

What is it like to be that binder?

What is it like to be that special?

Jin is special.

He’s going to be class president. And he should be. He’s got a knack for representing people. And he’s a really, really good speaker. He’s lighting the room on fire now.

But Jimin knows that he wouldn’t be able to do it in exactly the same way without your spark.

He sees that spark in Jin’s eyes when he leans into the mic for his final statement.

“Instead of being told what our future is going to be, let’s find it, together.”

As Namjoon raises Jungkook onto his shoulders, and the rest of the gang whips the crowd into even more of a frenzy, Jimin feels something else wash over him.

Clarity.

And calm.

He has to find you.

He jumps up from his seat and pushes through these other sweaty, pubescent idiots to make his way backstage.

And when he sees you, waiting in the wings and taking in the fire that you’ve started, he smiles to himself.

Did you have the same thought? Is that why you’re here, and not onstage?

Are you here for Jimin to find you?

He takes a step toward you. And then another. And another.

“Oh,” you say, startled.

He takes another couple of steps toward you, standing just behind you and craning to see everybody losing their minds.

“That was intense,” he observes.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he pulled it off so smoothly,” you say.

“No, I mean… you.”

Jimin grins.

“You gave it all up for him. Just like that.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it goes.”

“It never goes like that.”

He wonders what’s going through your mind. Maybe it’s just because he feels so clear, that it’s puzzling that anything would be going through your mind at all. Here you are, at the edge of something incredible, something that you accomplished, and you seem confused.

“You’re a weird one,” he says with a grin.

The confused look on your face disappears.

“Yeah, you’ve made it clear that you think I’m weird,” you mutter, turning back to the crowd.

Jimin wishes he were a better speaker. One like Jin.

“I didn’t mean that kind of weird,” Jimin apologizes. But with the way you’re focusing on the crowd, the apology seems to come too late. One too many seconds after calling you weird. One too many grins as he did it. But, mostly, he’s choosing to apologize after having said it not just now, but hundreds of times in the past.

But you’re also you. And you’re full of grace.

“Then, what did you mean?”

Jimin searches his mind for something to compare you to. He doesn’t know a lot. Hates school. Hates books. But he likes stories. Especially movies. Like the one he watched the night before. Something with pirates.

“I guess I meant… rare. Like buried treasure. Or something.”

Immediately, he regrets it. That must sound so stupid, especially compared to what you’ve just written for Jin. You’re starting to turn around, and Jimin knows that he won’t be able to bear the disdainful look on your face prompted by his ineloquence.

So he steps back into the shadows, and he watches as Jin wraps you up in his arms.

Escape.

In his young life, Jimin has already learned a lot about the art of escape. What it truly is. Where to go. What helps him do it.

Escape is not, for instance, his ability to come and go as he pleases. The Park house is usually empty, and escape requires some kind of expectation. It requires at least one other person to care.

Escape is, though, his ability to retreat deep into his mind when he arrives home two hours past curfew, not expecting his father to be there, and anticipating the next bruising fraternity paddle hit to his bottom.

Escape is not getting out of the house only to attend this stupid fundraiser for activities he hates anyway. Escape is finding this greenhouse on this rich property, tucked in a blanket of green. And escape is this joint that he’s about to get greens on, helping him to see even more vividly the otherwise hidden shades of green surrounding him.

“Hey.”

He knows it’s your voice, but he can’t tell where it’s coming from.

When you appear in the moonlight, glowing like the mythical unicorn that you are, he can’t help but smile.

But that smile is not an escape. It’s a painful, painful reminder.

“Oh, I don’t need any refills,” he decides to joke, zeroing in on your tuxedo shirt and black pants, “just the check would be good.”

You walk closer, and, given that nobody else is around, dares to keep his smile on his face.

“What are you even doing out here?” you ask.

Jimin holds up the joint so that you can see it.

When you roll your eyes, like he knew you would, he winks and says, “More for me.”

The smoke trail surrounds you, softening your glow.

“It’s time to go,” you say. “You’re all about to crash Hae-in’s house party.”

But Jimin doesn’t want to go. Not even Hae-in’s house party is an escape. Not when Jin and the rest of the gang are the ones deciding that it will be the next stop in their travels. Not when he can have more time with you, here, in this magical place.

Maybe you’d be interested in joining him. Really joining him. Have an escape of your own.

Jimin flick his lighter but doesn’t let the flame grow. He just wants to see a spark.

“Don’t you wanna try?” he asks.

“No.”

“You’re not even a little curious?”

Jimin knows you’re curious. You don’t know it, but you and Jimin have a lot in common, actually. It’s your curiosity that drives you. Your curiosity about what else is out there, and how much of it, and what’s worse, or better.

You both believe things could be better.

Jimin pats the grass next to him.

“SIt here, next to me.”

You look wary. “Why?”

Jimin chuckles and holds the joint up again. “You won’t even have to put your lips on it. No one has to know.”

It would feel good to gloat. To brag that he’s given you a first taste of something. He’d love to see the look on Jin’s face. It would be a downright riot. But it’s better if no one knows, Jimin thinks, as you sit down beside him. He’s fully content with sitting here, escaping with you.

You don’t seem to be sure about any of this.

“Look at me,” Jimin says softly, letting the joint rest in the corner of his mouth.

When you do, he feels that calm wash over him again. It guides his thumb to your chin. Helps him have the courage to tug your mouth open, your bottom lip full, plump and red from all the bites you’ve given it.

He wishes you wouldn’t worry so much.

He draws the flame into the joint with a deep breath, and then he leans forward.

When your gazes find each other, he slowly blows the smoke into your mouth.

He can feel it in his own lungs seizing and catching as you cough, but for him, it comes out as smooth, light giggles. Knowing ones. “It’s harsh at first, but you get used to it.”

The smoke softens your gaze as well. And your smile. Your sweet, relaxed smile.

There.

That’s an escape.

“Hmm,” you ponder.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, actually.” You’re cute when you’re learning things. It’s why he can’t stop staring at you in class. “I thought it would be scary, but this is all… soft.”

“Hmm. Soft.” Jimin dares to smile again. “It’s nice, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe this will even you out,” Jimin blurts out, letting out a bit of a yawn as he lets his muscles relax.

He feels your questioning eyes on him as he stretches and stands.

“Why would you say that?”

It sounds different this time. Your voice sounds so much lighter when your defenses are down.

“I just mean that you get a little intense and serious,” Jimin observes. “When you let loose, like now, you’re…”

He can’t say what he wants to say. That you’re pretty. That you shine. That he wants to have you like this, this close, all the time.

“…a little easier to have around.”

When you don’t follow him, he leans down to reach for your hand. You’re cute even when you’re awkwardly trying to get your high self back onto your feet. He giggles again at you, putting more strength into his grip on your hand. More effort into the pull of your arm. And you crash into him, your hand flattening against his chest, and your chin pointing up at him, your bottom lip still so full.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to catch smoke. But here you are.

This is the line that he’d decided not to cross. But now that he has, he’s worried about what it’ll do to him. What Jin would do to him.

He lets go of you immediately, and you totter on the balls of your feet. Eventually, you right yourself and follow the path back to everything that is boring, and regular. Everything that Jimin so desperately wants to escape.

If he’s going to say it, it should be now.

“I almost kissed you just now.”

You look so stunned. “Why didn’t you?”

His heart feels so heavy in his chest. Yes, in the way that it usually feels when he’s high. But this high, this time with you, is so much more potent.

He wishes that he didn’t have to say it. But it also needs to be now. So that you know. So that you understand what he’s been feeling. Why he escapes. Why he escapes to seek you out.

“Because you belong to Jin.”

Jimin can’t believe it’s years later that he gets to see you glowing like that again.

It’s probably due in large part to the soft, dreamy lights in Song Chae-in’s theater room. The silver screen looks so much like the silver moonlight that enveloped you that night. Save for your age and dress, nearly everything is identical, right down to the concerned look on your face.

“You OK?” he asks.

You frown. “Where did they go?”

Jimin’s kind of glad you weren’t paying attention. All of this is so dull.

“Jin bet that Jungkook couldn’t kick through wood,” he explains.

“So where are they now?”

“They ran out to the shed to kick some wood.”

“Of course.”

“So,” Jimin starts, “are you having fun?”

He often wonders what it’s like to be like you. To have never gone to one of these parties. They were fun for a while. Scratched an itch. They still are better than the alternative, which is sitting at home alone and being solely responsible for whether or not he has a good night. But the highs aren’t so high anymore.

It doesn’t take you long to answer. “Not really. But thanks for asking.”

You clearly don’t expect Jimin to say what he says. “Same. Jin and the guys like these kinds of things, but I get bored after a while.”

He dares to look at you.

“I’m glad you came this time.”

You shift a little in your seat. You’re getting ready to do something. And Jimin isn’t sure if he’s ready to do whatever it is that you’re about to do.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

You look so beautiful, made even moreso when you finally say it.

“I don’t belong to him, y’know.”

Jimin doesn’t even feel his body pulling him closer to yours. His hands wrapping around your wrists. He isn’t sure if it’s you he’s trying to hold steady, or himself.

That calm. It sweeps past your lips and all over his skin. Around his heart. Into his belly. His back curls, just like the bangs on his forehead, which your forehead are parting as you tilt your head for a second kiss.

“Gross!”

Jungkook’s voice echoes throughout the room. Nobody really pays him any mind. But it does signal a shift.

Jin tends to do this. He takes people’s cues to change the setting. Reset the energy. Especially when things aren’t going his way.

“Let’s go back outside. Get some fresh air.”

The entire gang heeds his instructions, but Jimin secretly sails on the cloud that you’ve put him on as you all make your way to the front yard.

He’s drunk. He’s had a few beers, but he’s pretty sure that he’s drunk on you.

He wants to test this out. He needs to be completely convinced, especially before he decides to do anything about it.

Nearly anyone will do.

He spots a more familiar face in the crowd. And, unlike with the thrill of finding you, it’s not very hard to get her attention. All it takes is some flirtatious grabbing. Some giggling. Charms that came by default in Jimin’s innate toolbox.

But he feels nearly nothing as his lips intertwine with hers.

He brightens at the realization. He can’t wait to tell you. He can’t wait to see if you’d be willing to take the plunge. To make your escapes into reality.

But when he looks up to find you, he sees Jin diving after you, into the backseat of your father’s driver’s car.

“So… neither of us make a move.”

Jin’s words are, invariably, final. But this conversation seems poignantly so. In Jimin’s experience, nothing optimistic ever happens after four fingers of whiskey.

“She needs to be the one who chooses.”

He said the same thing after their last huge blow-up. When you were just kids in high school. After that kiss.

Jimin still thinks about that kiss. And he knows that it’s selfish. He’s thinking about it even now, as Jin is rightfully going on and on about how what happens next is your choice.

It’s a clear marker that Jimin would never be the one. But it doesn’t matter. If he’s being completely honest with himself, though that kiss tasted sweet, Jimin has been resigned to his fate for a while. And a part of him knew that from the beginning, as his lips met… what was her name?

Anyway.

What was first mistaken as a test of young love really turned out to be a protective measure against becoming addicted to you. And for as much calm as you bring him, Jimin’s growing bored of hearing about what the best thing is for you, and increasingly more curious about finding the best thing for him.

It doesn’t matter that Kwan is out of the picture.

And it didn’t matter when Kwan was in the picture.

For decades of school, and nearly a decade since, Jimin knows that if you are ever asked to choose anyone, for anything, always going to be Jin.

Still, Jimin thinks, pressing his lips together and still thinking about yours, it’s nice to know that Jin won’t make a move.

Your dress is perfect.

You still went with white. Not surprising. Given the man you have on your arm, there’s obviously a part of you that honors tradition.

Jimin watches through the open door leading out to the dance floor as you lean into Jin for another storybook kiss. Shutter clicks and camera flashes wash over you both, only rocketing you further into your fairytale.

He wonders what it was like when you and Jin came to this place. Walked the grounds. Sampled the food. Warned Jin not to smush the cake into your face. Warned him again when he raised the confectionary square to a spot just in front of your nose.

Did Jin fuck you on the elevator ride, all 125 floors up? Did he settle for kissing you? Or did he just hold you close, whispering, in a soft, lilting voice, “We’re getting married!”

Jimin bets it was the last, the sap.

He would’ve fucked you.

And that tells him that the universe is exactly as it should be.

He takes another hit of his joint.

When you walked the grounds, did you find this spot? This tiny balcony, off to the side, the tendrils of hanging vines falling like curtains?

He hopes you didn’t.

Because then, this wouldn’t be an escape.

He really is sorry that he stepped over the line. Even if the line seems to be moving over time. Like roving lasers that will kill him if he makes one false move.

He looks up at Jin, walking slightly ahead, flashlight swinging. There’s enough light that Jimin doesn’t see the need to turn his on.

He keeps trying to say something. He’ll take a quick breath through his nose, open his mouth, bring his tongue and teeth together, and nothing. He’ll think of a word, any word, double-down in his resolve to just blurt it out, even if it doesn’t make sense, or it comes out funny, and… nothing. He’ll think of your name, which isn’t even a name, and he’ll decide to speak it aloud, even considering that hours-long heart-to-heart that they just had, trusting that he’ll come up with some sentence that covers his tracks, and… nothing.

“You good?”

Jimin looks up to see Jin looking over his shoulder at him, eyebrows raised in question.

No, he’s not good. But he can’t say that either.

“We’re almost there,” Jin says, turning back around. “I can see some felled trees.”

It seems that there’s more storytime hanging off of Jin’s suddenly smirking lips, but Jimin’s glad that he doesn’t tell it.

He just wants to be able to say something. But there’s a weight on his chest. Something blocking him.

Jimin realizes that the high is already wearing off.

And he realizes that the weight he feels, the block he feels, is pain.

The pain doesn’t come from the fact that Jin kissed you here. That Jin fucked you here. That Jin made a baby with you here.

It comes from the fact that Jin told you here.

On what is technically Jimin’s territory.

Jimin can hear Jin’s footsteps moving away.

He leans back on your front door, laughing softly into the empty hallway, thinking about the trophy nestled into his front, right pocket.

He pulls it out and smiles at it.

But then his face falls.

He wishes he were holding the red trumpet lily.

Or, rather, that he were giving it to you, surprising you in bed with it, your beautiful smile blooming.

But all he has is this crumpled index card, with a dumb clue on one side, on the other, a number that will reach some woman who isn’t you.

And the image of Junior falling asleep in that furniture showroom.

A tiny, carbon copy of Jin.

“So, when should I expect the contracts back?”

Jimin grins as the city skyline slowly ambles by, boxes of white and yellow seemingly hovering in the air. He loves that skyline. He never grows tired of seeing it. Watching each familiar landmark pass him by like that reminds him of how much he has, and knowing that he can see it all while careening down the highway at 80 miles an hour reminds him that there’s still so much more.

“Yeah, Jimin, about that… I-I don’t know.”

The admission feels unexpected. Like a betrayal.

“It’s just,” Jin goes on, “another club? Can’t you develop a school or a museum or something?”

“You’re the one who expanded your portfolio to include entertainment,” Jimin points out. “And this one is the best one yet! Seven stories for the seven deadly sins? I mean, come on, that place will be packed every night!”

“Jimin.”

“Fine!” Jimin backs off. “Forget the theme! The sound system alone! Holophonics? First to market!”

“There are insurance risks with being first to market, Jimin.”

“C’mon, you saw the sparkles in Taehyung’s eyes! And you know how long he’s been working on this!”

“I know,” Jin sighs. “I know. But, Jimin, I have kids now, and I can’t afford to make business decisions that—”

Jimin pounds the skyline with the side of his fist, the glass echoing a loud enough thud! that Jin asks, “Jimin?? Are you OK??”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Jimin, you loud fuck, you’re on speaker!”

Jin mumbles some kind of apology. Probably to his driver.

So, maybe, this is the one exception that proves the rule of Jin’s words’ finality.

The contracts have been drafted for weeks. They’re probably sitting on Jin’s desk now. You probably put them there.

“Just— just turn around,” Jimin says slowly, “go back to your office, and sign the papers. I’ll meet you there, and pick them up.”

The silence is unnerving.

And it tells Jimin that he knows what the real root of the matter is.

“How long are you going to hold this over me?” he demands. “It wasn’t even my fault!”

Jimin doesn’t care that his driver can hear. If this deal falls through, he’s as good as dead anyway. He’ll need a witness. He’s pretty sure his driver would side with him, anyway. He pays him to.

“I’m not holding anything over you,” Jin sighs, exasperated, his voice closer, and fuller, now that Jimin’s been taken off speaker.

“Yes, you are!” Jimin counters. “What happened with Jungkook wasn’t my fault!”

Jin groans. “No, it’s not, but it would be good to know if you could stop making these shady deals! If you could stop whatever conquest you’re dead-set on seeing through! If you cared about anybody other than yourself!”

“Oh, be- lieve me, I care.”

Jimin’s panting deep, heaving breaths now, his chest no longer blocked, words flowing freely, throat more than happy to sing.

“You’re one to talk, constantly telling us that we all have to bend you! To Friday!”

“Be careful,” Jin warns.

“You ever think about it?”

The sudden drop in Jimin’s voice is staggering. Low, and dangerously quiet. Calm before the storm. A whirlwind waiting in the wings, residing in the ninth circle after committing all seven deadly sins.

“You ever think about how I could escape to some greenhouse or balcony and steal a little time with her? You ever wonder what I might be up to when you go on one of your month-long business trips? How I might teach Junior a new word? Teach Namu to call me Appa?”

A smirk unfolds, dazzling and nasty.

“Teach Friday to do the same?”

“Jimin.”

He chuckles.

“You think about me in your penthouse? In your bed? You ever smell your sheets and wonder why they smell so strongly of fabric softener? It’s to mask the sweat. The cum. The two of us grinding, biting into each others’ shoulders. Her trembling legs around me, fighting to stay taut. Her tits bouncing. Me slapping them. Palming them. Taking them in my mouth and sucking her nipples so hard they almost rip off. My cock so hard and full, emptying onto her, into her, over and over again as she screams my name.”

He shakes his head.

“No. That’s not what you think about. I know what you think about.”

He narrows his eyes, gaze as piercing as his words.

“You think about us at Hae-in’s house, curled up in those basic-as-fuck recliners, bodies heating up after trying and failing to contain all that curiosity, and longing, her pussy drenched with need and our lips stitched together in the first perfect kiss that she’s ever had, with her first, perfect love.”

When he speaks, Jin sounds like he’s eighteen again.

“Jimin, why don’t you do us a favor and fuck off, once and for all?!”

Jimin shakes the memory of the fight, and his sleepless night, out of his head and trudges on, feet hitting the tarmac. Walks are so much more pleasant in the morning sun. And when he’s headed to his own private jet.

The pilot greets him with a kind smile.

“Mr. Park, sir.”

Jimin tightens his grip on his right backpack strap as he reaches forward to shake the pilot’s hand.

“Thanks for organizing so quickly,” Jimin says. “All of you, ready and waiting. I only called about half an hour ago.”

“Wasn’t hard. Skies are clear. Cabin crew is ready and waiting with champagne and three courses. And your assistant just informed me that everything is packed and ready to go,” the pilot responds.

“Great.”

“Just one question, sir,” the pilot goes on, feeling a bit awkward. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”

Jimin shrugs.

“Surprise me.”

Hideaway | Masterpost

#bts fanfiction #jin smut #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #bts smut #jimin #kim seokjin #seokjin #park jimin #ficscafe #ksmutclub #purplearmynet #hideaway

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