#OT7 Fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chimivx · 2 years

Text

expecting, expected. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }

summary: Exhaustion, anxiety, hormones... This is life now, for the next nine months... And it's time to tell your friends!

words: 6k

warnings: fluffy (lol), mentions of sex, suggestive conversation, jikook warning, drinking, grown adults out for dinner and interacting, If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: HI! You already know what I'm posting. VEGAS SERIES ADDITION! I'm unsure how I feel about this one... Fell in love with it, but now... I dunno. I hope you ENJOY IT if you read it! I'm in need of more fluffy dad!Yoongi so be prepared, more of that will be coming. I'm never letting this series go.

{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }

Tucked beneath a blanket, curled up in a ball on Yoongi’s lap watching the new episode of Run BTS, you were fighting to keep your eyes open, doing the slow blink. Running his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails soothingly over your scalp, it was as if Yoongi was actively trying to get you to fall asleep. That’s all you’ve been able to do for the past two weeks anyway, and it didn’t matter where you were, you were dozing off at random.

Shortly after the Golden Disc Awards, and that blur of a day, you were scheduled to see a doctor where the news you knew to be true was confirmed. Yoongi stood by your side watching attentively as the doctors did bloodwork, spoke with you about your symptoms, and gave you a long list of do’s and don'ts for you to follow for the next nine months after they showed the two of you that you were definitely pregnant.

This early on it wasn’t necessary for you to see a doctor yet, considering your age and your health, however Yoongi let his worry’s slip to a director, one of the higher ups that had most of the power. Keeping the entire situation on the down low, it was decided you’d be treated as if you were an Idol yourself, being ushered into the office almost against your will, a place where you’d get the most prompt, unconditional care throughout your pregnancy.

You didn’t expect anything less from Yoongi. That morning, holding onto his hand, his other was wrapped around you protectively wherever you went. You knew he would go overboard. Your dark haired, still in physical therapy boyfriend found a new hobby- waiting on you hand and foot, like he wasn’t the star of the household. None of that even mattered in your rapport anyway, you were the star of his life.

After the awards, once the two of you were back home and cuddled underneath the safety of your bed covers, nearly nose to nose, you took turns speaking into the early hours of the morning. Initial shock had subsided, and you were both able to actively listen to one another, and think rationally. Yoongi expressed his excitement, telling you how he dreams of this, wanting to do it all with you, only if you wanted it too.

When the sun had risen and the time was checked, laughter was shared along with a reassuring kiss.

Meeting Yoongi at twenty two, you were young, still at the beginning of your life. Barely out of college, you didn’t have a clue if you ever wanted to have children, the thought rarely crossed your mind. For a while it was full of, how am I going to pay for my next meal, before it did a complete one eighty, turning into, what city are we flying to next? You were jet-set for six years until the global shutdown of the year 2020.

Now, age twenty eight, with seven years of a relationship down, living with the man who knew you better than anyone else, and loved you three times as much… Things had shifted. A universal halt wasn’t expected because of a new rampant illness in the world, and though it came with extreme measures, it was exactly what you and Yoongi needed. It gave you time to grow up a little bit, your subconscious doing most of that work.

During the hours and hours of whispering like two people with a secret, the work done in the shadows was unveiled, sparking the realization that you did in fact want this. You were ready for the next step of life with the man you loved.

“Oh, you’re out,” You hear Yoongi speak quietly to himself, feeling him shift beneath you a bit. With closed eyes, you roll over to face his torso and sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, weaseling it between his back and the couch cushion.

“Not out,” You barely whisper. Yoongi looks down at your sleepy face with a smile, putting a hand back into your hair, stroking it with care.

“You missed the rest of the episode,” He says, “You started snoring before they even split into teams.”

“No… I didn’t,” You mumble, “I saw.”

“Who won?” He perks an eyebrow, finding it amusing you were laying here lying to him in real time.

Without missing a beat you whisper, “Jungkook,” And he starts to laugh, resting his head back on the couch.

Both teams had won actually, they made some incredible food. Yoongi was content with you on his lap, and hungry. He debated telling you the truth, but figured you’d want to rewatch it later when you had some more energy, so he kept the answer to himself. This was the second time you tried to watch it, you fell asleep during the premiere of it last night, curling up under his arm in bed.

Letting you rest, Yoongi picks up his phone to check his messages. There were plans set for later today with the guys, and Sunny was joining as well, flying in from a job to visit. The nine of you were meeting for dinner at a cozy, quiet spot where you would be able to share the news of your pregnancy with your family. Though two of them were told two weeks ago, they kept their mouths shut, which was utterly impressive.

The seven boys were interviewed the night of the Golden Disc Awards, and there was a moment of panic that something would slip, at least to more of the boys. The interviewer had them share New Years wishes with each other, sending it to the boy to their right. Jin, the unlucky bastard, was stood next to Yoongi and had to watch his mouth.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to share, he found out moments ago that his best friend was going to be a father. This new year was huge for Yoongi, one he’s dreamed of, and Jin wanted to shout his happiness from the rooftops.

Loving someone as much as Jin loved Yoongi, and watching that person go through hardship after hardship finally find their reason for living, their reason for true happiness… That’s a feeling that can’t be explained.

So, opting for awkward laughter and the introverted persona of Jin, he shared his well wishes with Yoongi carefully, taking his time, making sure it was simple. Yoongi listened anxiously, beckoning him with his eyes pointed to the floor to keep it quick, but took his brother's words to heart, recognizing and understanding every underlying meaning behind the short message.

Looking through his phone now, he has two unread messages from Jin that he swipes by, deciding to open them after he reaches out to Sunny. Tapping on her thread, he chuckles at the last picture he sent- you sitting on the bathroom floor in just a t-shirt, glaring at the camera, flashing him a middle finger. It was from a couple of days ago when you were physically unable to be in any other room, because the moment you stepped off the tile, you were overcome by nausea and yanked back in front of the toilet.

Thankfully that period of time didn’t last too long. Now you’re going through an energy depletion, the tiny little group of cells inside of you stealing it all soon after you try to recharge.

Sunny, who was now working select dates with a couple Kardashians, was oblivious, and didn’t think anything strange of the picture. She sent a heart in reply, and went on her merry way through Los Angeles, shaking salads with Kourtney.

[yoongi]: ETA?

Yoongi sends to your best friend, watching the screen as bubbles pop up in an instant.

[Sunita Sunshine]: Landed about a half hour ago!!! I’m in an Uber…… meeting Jin for drinks before we come see you guys

[Sunita Sunshine]: How’s lover girl feeling??? Any better?

Yoongi’s heart just about flies out of his chest. He types back to her with lightning speed.

[yoongi]: She’s great… Why?

[Sunita Sunshine]: She was sick right??? Before golden discs until like a couple days ago….. I talked to her

He sighs, letting his eyes shut for a second, completely forgetting the two of you, though in different parts of the world most times, still shared everything with each other.

[yoongi]: Right. Yeah she’s good now, she can't wait to see you

Tilting his head to the side, he peeks down at you from behind his phone screen. Eyes closed, lips parted slightly, taking in slow deep breaths, you sure seemed ecstatic to be having dinner with the best friend you haven’t seen in a couple of months.

The iPhone in Yoongi’s hand starts to buzz dramatically. He’s had his ringer turned off for a few days since these bouts of narcolepsy were at random. A facetime was coming in from Jungkook, another member of his group that had the pleasure of knowing your secret. You couldn’t help yourself, when he flashed you a wholesome smile and your emotional state was overcome by comfort, you let it slip.

“Hey, man,” Yoongi answers, keeping his voice quiet. He clicks the volume down a few notches, watching the screen as it’s pointed at the cloudy, grey, January sky. “Are you outside?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jungkook says, finally appearing inside the box wearing a black bucket hat over his bleach blonde hair, “I’m about to walk into Jimin’s, I just left the studio,” Yoongi can hear the smacking of his stompers on the concrete, “They, uh, they want to do my hair purple for Butter.”

“Oh no,” Yoongi mutters as Jungkook glances away for a second to somewhere ahead of him, and smiles. His eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Did I just hear you say they want your hair purple?” Jimin can be heard off screen. It goes black for a second, Yoongi can hear muffled voices, then the top of Jungkook’s head appears again.

“Yeah, purple,” Jungkook sighs.

“Thought you wanted it blue, maybe?” The end of Jimin’s sentence sounded like he said the word, baby, instead of, maybe, but maybe Yoongi’s brain was overridden by nerves for this evening, making him hear things. The two step into Jimin’s home, Yoongi just along for the ride as they converse about this dire hair matter.

“Uh,” He gets their attention back and points the phone down to you. Jimin coo’s, peering at the screen with a pouty lip. “Can this be discussed tonight? Why was I called?” Yoongi chuckles, bringing the camera focus back to himself. Jungkook cringes, like he suddenly remembered your condition.

“Sorry,” He says, “She wasn’t answering, thought it meant Sunny was there, I need to talk to her about it.”

“You’ll see her tonight,” Yoongi says, “She’s getting drinks with Jin right now.”

“Jin?!” Jimin exclaims, grabbing the phone from Jungkook’s hands, “That woman wanted to see ME!” The diva was shushed by both Yoongi and Jungkook, the youngest snatching his phone back from his tiny hands.

“I’ll see you later,” Jungkook says to Yoongi before he glances up to Jimin, “I don’t want purple hai-” And the phone hangs up, trilling a sad little tune, announcing the end of the call.

“His TinyTan has dark hair, D, I swear, if I have to create one for Butter, and I’m told to match whatever color they give him, Army will rip me to shreds if the shade isn’t right,” You say, startling your boyfriend the slightest, “Remember the pink hair? I didn’t sleep.” Opening your eyes, you look up at Yoongi who is gazing back with a small smile. Placing his phone aside, he shakes his head.

“You won’t be doing anything, you’re taking time off from work,” He says, keeping his tone soft, “No more sleepless nights and caffeine highs.” Rolling your eyes, you huff.

“Yeah, that’s for after September,” You whisper, though you were unsure when your baby would be arriving. It takes him a couple of seconds to catch what you said, both of you laughing once he does.

Sitting up, you situate yourself beside him and smile, saying, “Dream ON is doing really well.”

“Why are you checking stats?” Yoongi disciplines, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“I have to stay busy,” You shrug, “TinyTan was my entire year last year, do you know how many ideas I have? I already have something for Dynamite on paper, even though no one’s asked me to do it.”

“I don’t want you to stress yourself out, there’s no reason to rush. You need rest.”

“No, I need them out of the Mic Drop outfits, it’s been years since that came out, I don’t know what I was thinking,” You shake your head before laying it on his shoulder. It was a tad sore today, but Yoongi didn’t mention it. He needed you to be comfortable, he wasn’t worried about himself at all.

Planting a kiss to the top of your head, he keeps his head there, lifting the hand that was around your shoulder to graze your hair once more. His gentle touch is soothing, helping you relax like it had when you laid down to watch the show, but coupled with the kiss, your raging hormones were reading the wrong room.

Lifting your head, you turn your chin to press your lips to his in a rush. Yoongi barely has a chance to react before you climb into his lap and slide your hands around his neck, slipping them up into his black locks. Parting your lips, you dance your tongue across his bottom lip and deepen the kiss, the strongest warmth erupting within your center. Powerless with his head locked to the cushion, Yoongi hums and attempts to pull away.

“Baby,” He chuckles as you resort to kissing his cheek, down to his jaw.

“Shhh,” You hush, dipping your head to press open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“You should nap, we have dinner.”

“Not tired anymore,” You sigh, dragging your tongue from his collar bone to behind his ear, nibbling his earlobe for half a second, “I need you.”

“You need sleep, you’ll be nodding off at dessert,” Yoongi’s eyes shut during the jaw kisses, he thinks, his voice coming out of him now on auto-pilot while his body responded to you directly. His breathy, lust filled sigh that leaves his lips after his words makes your brain short circuit. Grinding down on his lap, your fingers tighten in his hair, giving the strands a harsh tug. Brushing your nose against his, you kiss his lips and whine after you part.

“Yoongi,” Whispering his full name, something that rarely leaves your lips, his eyes pop open, heavy lidded. The desperate riff graces his ears while your widened eyes plead with his. Yoongi could easily walk away from this, let you go upstairs to get some sleep before your night out, and be completely fine. On the other hand, your fixed gaze was begging him, telling him that you were not going to be completely fine if he didn’t do something.

His eyes studying you was nearly enough of a connection to satisfy the emotional hunger, but then his hands slid up your thighs and your knees tightened around his waist. Every move he made, your body heightened the sensation to a hundred.

“Take me upstairs… Right now,” You whisper from behind clenched teeth. Yoongi smirks, giving the round of your ass a squeeze, watching your body melt before him, listening with delight as his traveling fingers make you moan and groan.

“There’s no time to go upstairs,” He breathes, gripping your waist as he stands to his feet, laying you down on your back, settling over you, “Gonna fuck this out of you right here.”

In the backseat of the car taking you to dinner, Yoongi’s hand was sliding up and down the inside of your thigh. His eyes were on the road where he sat in the center seat, staying observant of your surroundings at all times.

Glancing down to your phone that had been blowing up for the past five minutes, you open another message from Sunny.

[Sunny Girl]: Why did Tae just say you have something to tell us???? Can you HURRY UP and GET HERE

“She’s pissed,” You show Yoongi the message, and he laughs under his breath.

“Tell her I had to pry you off of me to get you in the shower,” He raises a brow, keeping his words quiet, between you. Pressing your lips together, you shoot him a silly glare.

“I don’t know what to say to her,” You say, staring at the text, “I don’t know what to say to anybody, I’m freaking out.” Yoongi looks back down at you, this time with worried eyes.

“Freaking out?” He mumbles, giving your leg a squeeze.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask with a small laugh, meeting his eyes. Thinking to himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “What?!”

“Baby, two of them know already,” He breaks into a grin, but not to diminish your anxiety, to help push down his own. On the inside he was a mess, on the outside he was as cool as a cucumber. The two of you shared crises, and he knew that this one would be yours to have, so he ignored his own anxiety for you.

“I’ve known Sunny since I was twelve,” You say, “You see the way she loves me, this is about to deck her straight in the face, D,” Yoongi holds in a laugh, and nods, “What if she tries to do something crazy?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” You glance around the car as if the answer was going to jump out from the wrinkles in the leather seats, “Like, put her job on hold, and try to move in with us… Or, or… Quit the Kardashian show, and move in with us…”

“Hm,” Yoongi frowns, lowering his brows, “Sounds like you want her to move in with us.”

“No!” You shout, slapping a hand to his chest, “I don’t want that! We don’t want that,” You lower your voice dramatically, “Trust me, I lived with Sun, you don’t want that.”

“Okay, then if she tries, we tell her no,” Yoongi soothes, letting his hand explore the fabric of your pants like it had been for the ride. He glances to your hand on his chest that was slowly starting to grip the cotton, your fingers tightening passionately. “Take a deep breath, please.” Yoongi reaches for your hand, declawing it from his beating heart, linking his fingers with yours. Listening, you suck in a breath and release it with shaky hands.

The car makes one last turn around a tall, white building, coming to a stop at the back where your car door was opened for you. Clutching Yoongi’s fingers like he was going to leave, you slide out of the car and come face to face with a familiar man who gives you the most welcoming smile, washing away some of your nerves.

“Branson, you would be here,” You grin, throwing an arm around his back to hug him, keeping Yoongi close. The two guys share pleasantries, then the head of security looks you up and down and shrugs.

“You’re here, I have to be,” He says, “Shall we?” Branson gestures toward the door, giving the space behind and around the car a scan with his sharp eyes.

Gripping the long, metal hand of the door, Yoongi pulls it open for you, letting you lead him inside the dimly lit, beautifully decorated restaurant that smelled of everything delicious. He feels your fingers tighten even more, if that was possible, and it makes him wonder how powerful your grip will be the day you give birth to the child. This is only the day you’re telling your friends you’re having it, he had nine more months to get used to this.

Passing by the bathrooms, Yoongi pulls you back a second to make sure you saw where they were, then lets you continue on your flustered jog down the hall. Turning a corner, the space you’ve arrived in is totally empty, except for a round table in the corner that is surrounded by your rowdy group of friends making a scene with drinks in their hands.

“AYE!” Is called out from the commotion, and six other heads whip around to find you approaching with a pep in your step. Sunny, leaping to her feet with two glasses in her hand, clicks over to your side in her high heels and hugs you as best as she can with the drinks occupying her extremities. Kissing both of your cheeks, she sighs and takes a long look at you, big, soft eyes taking in every detail.

Wearing a smile, her eyes narrow a bit, asking you quietly, “Why do you look different?”

“Different?” You repeat in a flash, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi, “I don’t look… I don’t look different.” Nervous laughter escapes you with every breath.

“You were having sex when I called you three times, weren’t you?” Sunny grills, turning her eyes over to Yoongi who smirks, pointing his chin up to the ceiling to avoid her glare. Blushing, the nervous laughter takes over.

“Sunny!” You say, wiggling Yoongi’s hand that was still latched to yours. Your best friend looks down at them.

“You can’t even let go of him,” She laughs with you, “It’s alright, I know, you’re in love, nothings changed,” Sticking her tongue out to mark her faux disgust, she holds out one of the glasses in her hands, giving it to you, “Here, Jungkook tried to tell me I shouldn’t get it for you, but tonight is a night to celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” You question.

“Yes! All of us here, together. I haven’t seen this in months,” The smile that relaxes her face is sincere, “Which makes me have to ask,” She shifts her attention to Yoongi, “How’s the shoulder?” Stepping closer to him, she lifts her now empty hand to rub his arm. Using this opportunity to slip away, you release his hand to hurry over to Jungkook sitting beside Jimin at the table.

Watching as you scurry away, Yoongi answers all of Sunny’s questions while shaking his now emancipated fingers.

“I assume this is for you?” You half ask the blonde boy standing up to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Smells a little fruity, must be yours,” Jungkook giggles, baring his teeth, taking the icey glass from you.

“Told her not to get it, but she insisted,” He rolled his eyes, “She’s persistent that one.” Pulling back a chair on the other side of him, he offers it to you, pushing you in after you sit down.

“Don’t I know it,” You say, giving Jimin a wave.

“She doesn’t know it’s really for me,” Jungkook lifts the glass as if to ‘cheers’, then takes a sip. His lips pull into a frown as he swallows it. “Oh god,” Wincing at the flavor, he sits the glass on the polished wood finish of the table and slides it in front of Jimin, “Maybe this is for you.” He whispers, making you laugh.

“Kookie,” You pop out your bottom lip staring at his wavy hair, “Are they really going to make you go purple?” He groans, folding his hands on his lap.

“I don’t want it,” He says, sitting back in his chair, “I like this blonde, and I honestly would want blue over purple,” Jungkook nods toward Sunny, still chatting away with Yoongi and now Jin who joined the duo, “She says blue is better with, uh, I dunno, something about my skintone?”

“Oh my god!” You lean into him, grabbing his arm, “Do blue, think about me, do blue. I have designs to do, even though Yoongi won’t let me near them, and if you do blue it will be so much easier to mix.”

“Why won’t he let you near your work?” Jimin asks, inviting himself into the conversation with a scrunched up face of confusion. Straightening up, you clear your throat and look at Jungkook for help. He looks at you, then at Jimin, then back to you and widens his eyes in defeat. Releasing the tiniest sigh, you tilt your head and play dumb.

“I think it’s because I was sick,” You say convincingly enough.

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin’s face shifts to a worried one, “I’d wanna ease you back in too, especially with everything we have coming up between the singles and the music videos and the shows-”

“Chim,” Jungkook cuts him off with a smile, then turns to you, “You’ll be fine, I promise.” Amidst Jimin's rambles, the anxiety about work you've set aside for the future wanted to worm its way into this important night. Babies were time, babies were money. Two things you once used to struggle with before you fell into the grasp of the man walking up behind your chair.

Yoongi’s arms slid around your shoulders slowly. Everyone took their seats around the table, leaving the chair next to you empty for your boyfriend to have.

“Do we need to walk away?” He whispers to you, smiling and nodding at Hoseok across the table. A shake of your head wasn’t enough to get him off your case, he whispers again, “What’s going on?”

“Normal stuff,” You mumble, turning your chin to peek at him.

“New normal stuff?” He raises a brow.

“No, we’ve talked about it before.”

“Lovebirds, can we eat?” Sunny sing songs, waving her hands in your direction, “I’m starved.”

The thought of eating mixed with your nerves has you screwing your eyes shut as nausea clouds over your being. On your back you feel Yoongi take a breath, and stand up tall, placing both hands on either of your shoulders. Massaging you for a moment, he sighs theatrically, catching the attention of the attendance around the table.

“We’re still… getting better,” Yoongi bobs his head. A couple of the guys pulled a face, or nodded along with him, Sunny however, was quick to pick up his bullshit.

“You said she was great earlier,” She says, confused.

“Uh, well, you know what it’s like to come back from being sick, right?” Yoongi nervously chuckles, glancing at Jin and Jungkook for some kind of backup. He wasn’t sure you were going to go through with telling them tonight, this could be you backing out of your announcement. Jin launches forward, sipping his drink through a straw.

“Totally!” He says with wide eyes, picking up on his cue, coughing after he swallows his drink, “If you guys need to go, we get it.” Yoongi gives him a smile to thank him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sunny’s voice gets louder. Sitting forward herself, she bumps Jin's shoulder, “You’ve been at their defense all day, this girl is fine,” She then squints at how you were sitting, still with your eyes shut, barely taking in any of the conversation happening around you, “I know you, I know you two, something is up.” Snapping your eyes open, you jump up to your feet, taking everyone by surprise. Sunny’s words had struck a nerve, a fiery one.

“I… We…” You choke out, reaching a hand behind you to grab something of Yoongi’s. Finding his hand, you yank him closer. One of his arms slides around your body, holding you close to his front, while his other holds your hand happily, his thumb drawing circles on your palm. Anxiety has riddled your expression, but Yoongi’s smirk tells the group that there’s something juicy on the way.

“Oh my god,” Sunny gasps, planting her fingers over her mouth, looking down at your left hand, searching it for clues. That’s the first thing that gets you to finally smile.

“What!?” Taehyung glances at her, attempting to follow the line of her eyes, “What is going on?”

“Say something, somebody,” Namjoon bangs a fist on the table once, wearing a light smile, sitting forward with anticipation like those without the knowledge of your news.

“Tell them,” Yoongi says quietly, yet loud enough for everybody to hear him. Your tentative eyes scour the table, starting with Jin who couldn’t put his drink down, passing by suspicious Sunny, confused Taehyung, smiley Namjoon, hopeful Hoseok, and pouty Jimin, ending with Jungkook who held tens of thousands of galaxies in his eyes. The smile he wore was incredibly sincere, gazing up at you like you were his idol.

Giving Yoongi one more look, he smiles, waiting patiently.

“I’m not sick,” You say with a breath, turning back to your friends. Taehyung fake gasps, making Hoseok giggle. Yoongi scolds them with his eyes, the two friends jumping back into place, to listen to what you have to say, but you choke again. “Can’t do it, you do it.” You whisper, squeezing Yoongi’s hand.

“Me? You sure?” He asks, and you nod, closing your eyes. Yoongi wastes no time, looking out proudly to his friends. “We’re pregnant,” He says with a grin.

At the sound of the words, your eyes open to a reaction you did not expect. No one had moved.

“Is that it?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “That’s it. I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking called it!” He shouts with a smile toward Jimin.

“You did not call this, this was expected,” The It boy rolls his eyes.

“Hold on,” You stop the bickering by holding up a hand, “This was expected?” You tilt your chin and glare at him. Pouty lips smirk back.

“Guys,” He says quietly, looking between you and Yoongi.

“He’s not wrong,” Hoseok says sheepishly, lifting his shoulders to his ears.

“What!” Yoongi sighs, laughing. Jimin starts to plead his case with Taehyung and Hoseok to Yoongi, bringing up your relationship's past, and your favorite thing to do together. You want to listen, you want to hear what they’re discussing, because it’s about you, but you’re glued on Sunny.

Sitting sideways, body facing Jin, her eyes that were once sharp, and a little pissed off, had softened immensely. Your goddess of a best friend slowly shook her head in tiny, lips parting in shock. Standing up, pushing her chair back aggressively, she pulled the boys away from their amusing bickering, her aura sucking them in.

“You’re pregnant?” She asks just above a whisper, never once leaving your gaze. Nodding, your smile starts to grow. “You’re gonna keep it?”

“Wouldn’t have told you all I was if I wasn’t,” You chuckle awkwardly, feeling a lump in your throat, “I’m gonna be a mom.” The cry breaks, tears stream down your cheeks as Sunny pushes past Jin’s chair to throw her arms around you, holding you so tight you can feel her heart beating a mile a minute.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” She repeats, and her own tears start.

“Yeah, you are!” Jungkook cheers, the next one to stand up. Holding open his arms for Yoongi, your boyfriend smiles and takes him in, patting him on his back a couple of times, sending him another type of thank you for keeping your secret.

There is at least five minutes occupied by hugs, and congratulations, and kisses as you and Yoongi share broken info with each member who was the next to approach you. Yoongi tells the story of the Golden Disc Awards, how that was the day you had found out, and ultimately the reason you were plastered to the couch the entire time, not even making it out to see the show. At the mention of it, you feel your heart twist. You wanted to watch that performance.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung sings, slapping an arm around Yoongi’s back.

“I know,” Yoongi says. Since he spilled the news, he was unable to control his smile.

“And I thought Jimin would be the first,” Taehyung says.

“Hah,” Jimin cackles, “I can’t get pregnant!” In front of him, Jungkook shoots him the quickest look of worry, like he just leaked some kind of secret of his own, but it’s brushed away as fast as it had come up.

“What the hell did that mean?” You ask Jungkook, elbowing his tattooed bicep.

“No idea,” He whispers, giving Jimin a deadly look.

“You besties okay?” You question, a joking tone hidden within it.

“We’re fine,” Jungkook sighs, switching to a more positive energy, “How do you feel? Everyone knows!” He hugs you for the fifth time, giving you a shake.

“I think… I think I feel hungry,” You say after some thought, and Jungkook pulls away with mischievous eyebrows that make you giggle.

“You’ve read my mind,” He says, then releases you to toss his hands in the air, gathering the attention of the room, “Baby Mama is hungry, let’s eat.” He blushes at his own words, covering his mouth with a hand as he glances at you with a grin.

“Baby Mama!” Sunny repeats, the group laughing together.

Yoongi approaches you as everyone begins to take their seats. With his lips pulled into a smile puffing out his cheeks, your stomach takes a tumble, finding him incredibly adorable. Sliding his arms around your torso, he pulls you close and kisses your temple.

“I don’t think I see anyone packing their bags,” He says quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. Rolling your eyes, you smile and laugh under your breath.

“Give her a week,” You say, rising to your tiptoes to give him a proper kiss, and when you take a breath, you smirk and whisper, “Congratulations daddy.”

Widening his eyes, Yoongi huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “No, no, don’t do that.”

With a giggle, you press your lips to his, and mumble a quiet, “I love you.”

Taking your seats at the table with your friends, there’s a tremendous relief, a huge weight taken off of your shoulders now that they know. Throughout the dinner they asked a million and one questions, which should’ve made you nervous, but instead gave you an excitement you haven’t felt yet.

All seven of your friends were going to be there for you throughout this entire experience, ready to help, ready to pitch in, ready to look after you, as well as the man beside you who held his hand over your thigh for the entirety of dinner. You were loved, you were supported, but most importantly, you were happy. Completely, utterly, truly happy.

Here are some of the events & works mentioned in this piece for reference... I spent some time studying & watching these!

Golden Disc Interview

TinyTAN Dream ON

In no means do I mean to discredit anyone who created TinyTAN or worked on it. In this piece of fiction, OC is a 'ghost' creator and remains anonymous, so all original creators in ACTUAL real life are still there to be credited. This is a piece of FICTION.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

vegas series tags <3

@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place @ahewlett

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bts-hyperfixation · 9 months

Text

Outside of the fox

Chapter 18 of ???(I've entirely lost track)

2577 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Jin departs in the late afternoon of the day after the holiday, not before Namjoon convinces him to go for coffee with him. Not that it seemed to take that much convincing.

The bear swore it was only as friends, but the little blush crept onto his cheeks whenever the others brought up the doctor.

Taehyung never actually leaves...

He doesn't even attempt to go home for the remainder of the time off from work, in fact, he doesn't even leave to fetch his own clothes. The first Monday back at work arrives and you find him waiting for you at the front door in a pair of Jungkook's slacks and Jimin's shirt. It's been odd having him around, especially now knowing that he was your boss. He had also monopolized a lot of Jimin's time so you hadn't exactly gotten a chance to talk to the redhead alone much either.

It didn't stop you from catching him staring at your lips every time he zoned out.

"So do you ever intend to actually go home?" You ask Taehyung, glancing sideways at him as soon as he pulls away from the drive.

"I don't know what you mean." He shrugs, although a smirk plays at the corner of his lips.

"I mean, you must have your own home and your own clothes to return to at some point." You make a point of tugging at the slightly too-short sleeve that was slowly creeping up his wrist.

"In theory, I must... But everything, before I walked through that door on Solstice eve eve, is a blur. I don't think I was ever alive before Jimin."

You can't help but roll your eyes. The pair had been sickeningly in love since the wishing party. And yes it was cute, but it also cause your stomach to bubble as you watched them fawn over one another so easily.

Your late husband had never been so openly affectionate with you, and you knew you could've had JImin's attention like that if only you hadn't closed yourself off so hard. It seemed it might be too late to try and open yourself up more now, each member too preoccupied with another. You were happy for them, but sometimes it made you question if you should have moved out.

Namjoon was constantly texting back and forth with Jin, it was like you'd caught a naughty child with his hand in the cookie jar every time you went near him to find him on his phone. He would immediately shut it off and fling it across the table. He'd smashed his phone in at least two places so far from misjudging the distance. The poor device never stood a chance against the kitchen floor.

Yoongi and Hoseok had claimed inspiration had struck and hadn't taken themselves out of the studio in days for anything other than water and food. Hoseok did make a point of sitting close to you for the short periods of time when they did surface. And you had noticed a distinct increase in Yoongi scenting you as he glided past you on his way in and out of the house. It made you jump the first few times, now it just makes your cheeks feel a little too warm.

"Y/N? Did I lose you somewhere?" Taehyung's voice breaks through your thoughts

"Sorry?.." You blink away the memories and try to focus back on him.

"Where did you go?" He asks

"Nowhere, sorry."

"Did I make you jealous? Talking about Jiminie like that? Do you want me to tell you about how I thought I'd died and gone to heaven the first time you walked into my office building?"

"Oh shut up." You roll your eyes.

"I'm serious..."

"You ignored me completely."

"You took my breath away."

He pulls into the parking lot outside of the office building, saving you from dignifying that with an answer. You glance around nd see all of your colleagues clambering from their own cars, each looking a little depressed over the prospect of returning to work.

"Is it a good idea I'm seen getting out of the boss's car?" You half-joke.

"You eat lunch with the boss every day... I think it's late to be concerned about being seen with me." He laughs. "Hardly anyone knows I'm actually the boss anyway. Why do you think I still get harassed some days?"

You remember then how you had never actually seen the jackass that was making him uncomfortable after your interview day, you had just assumed he had moved on careerwise. Now it made sense that perhaps Taehyung had taken more drastic steps.

Taehyung locks the door and wraps an arm around your waist to direct you into the building.

___________________________

Your day at work is dull, nothing new happens, and everyone was still emotionally hungover from their excessive family time (some may have also been physically hungover, but you thought it more polite not to ask...).

Taehyung does finally admit that he needs to go and fetch some of his own clothes as he spent most of the day pulling Yoongi's boxers away to stop the ever-encroaching wedgie. So you walk home like you normally would.

The house is dark when you pull up. You assume that maybe everyone else is still at work and Kookie's asleep so you creep through the door trying not to wake the bunny in case he is passed out on the couch.

To your surprise, there is no Jungkook insight. instead, Namjoon is standing at the dining table which has been reduced to just two chairs and covered in a white tablecloth. A candle flickers in the middle of the setup and fairy lights are draped around the room creating an ambient glow.

"I'm sorry Joon, I didn't realise you had plans... did I miss it in the group chat?"

Usually when the boys had individual dates planned they posted it so everyone else could make themselves sparse.

"What? Oh... no. This is for us, for you..." He swipes at the back of his neck anxiously.

"For me?"

You walk further into the room and take in his smart clothing. A simple white button-up under a light brown blazer with matching slacks.

"Well, I was hoping... If you wanted... Maybe we could get to know one another better?" He stutters as he asks.

He leans over onto the breakfast bar to pick up a bouquet of flowers you hadn't noticed before and holds them out for you to take. You sniff the flowers and hold them close to your chest, hoping that Namjoon can't see how warm your face has gotten.

"As a friend?.. or as a... date"

It seems like a stupid question, with the specific design he had gone for, but you had been known to read a room wrong before.

"As a date if that's okay? If it's not I can turn the lights on and get rid of the candle. We can completely forget this ever happened." He says gesturing so close to the flame he nearly knocks it straight over.

"A date is okay." You nod, "But I am going to change out of my work clothes first."

He takes the flowers back and puts them into a vase as you head up the stairs. But you hesitate on the first step.

"Joonie?" You ask

"Yeah?"

"Did you cook..?"

"No, Yoongi helped."

You sigh in relief and head up to change. Joonie is so amazing in so many ways but you weren't really looking to get food poisoning in time for your second day back at work.

You find a cute little dress amongst tan dress amongst your things that would match Namjoon's outfit nicely. It gives you pause for a second, maybe you are trying too hard but you shook the thought away and threw it on anyway, not allowing yourself to back out.

The smell of food from downstairs was making your mouth water and you decided it was best not to allow yourself to think too hard for fear of locking the door to your room and not returning downstairs.

Namjoon is placing a plate on each side of the table as you walk back down into the main room. He pulls a chair back for you and gestures for you to sit down. He bumps the table with his knee as he slides in opposite you.

"We made pasta, Jimin said you told him you liked pasta," Namjoon said.

"I do, thanks." You take a bite, it's delicious, concrete evidence that the bear had had substantial help.

"How was work today?" He asked.

You talked about your day for a little while in between mouthfuls of food, and soon the main course was gone, plates emptied. Namjoon shares some anecdotes about his morning filled with meetings with his editor, nothing unusual in his day.

Your hand rests on the table and you watch as Namjoon's eyes flicker to it a couple of times, his own hand slowly inching across the table towards you. Eventually, he makes his move locking his fingers with yours.

"Is this okay?" He asks, not making eye contact.

You don't answer, simply use the opportunity to squeeze his fingers so he will look at you. He visibly relaxes when you don't reject his advance, his thumb rubbing at your absent-mindedly as you just look at one another. Your eyes flit accidentally to the adorable little freckle below his lower lip more than once. He must notice because he startles a little and pulls his hand away.

He coughs and excuses himself to fetch dessert from the fridge. Your hand feels cold at the loss.

He places a small gateau in front of you both with two forks. You wait until he takes a bite before picking up the fork that was meant for you. The cake is gorgeous and decadent, it clearly took a lot of effort to make something this nice.

"When did you have time to plan all of this?" You ask in between bites.

"I've been trying to set this up for over a week. Honestly, I thought you'd caught me the day I launched my phone across the room..." He says sheepishly.

"Oh! Is this what you were doing? I thought you were texting Jin!" You exclaim.

"How often do you think I talk to the doctor?" He asks.

"A lot... Do you not talk to him a lot? You sure talk about him a lot..." You tease.

You watch as his cheeks tinge and he struggles to stop himself from smiling.

"I guess I do... But I don't want to talk about him right now." He says, holding out his fork with the last bite on for you to eat.

You take the bite from him happily licking your lips when the cake is all gone.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about you, about us, about the pack going forward." He says.

Your stomach drops at the mention of the future. He takes the plate over to the sink allowing you to stew in your thoughts as he rinses the remains from the porcelain. When he comes back over he offers you his hand and you take it, not sure what to say yet.

He leads you out into the backyard where the furniture is still set up with pillows and blankets. He takes a blanket and drapes it around your shoulders before settling next to you and placing another blanket across both of your laps. You offer him the other half of the blanket around your shoulders before he can reach for his own.

His body heat next to you is warmer than any blanket could ever be. The two of you sit and watch the stars in complete silence for a short while. The looming conversation weighed heavily on your heart as you waited for him to start talking.

"So... I don't want to push anything. I really really don't, but I want to know where you are at. I know that Yoongi talked you through our intentions, and I know Jimin finally made his move. I just need to know what you're comfortable with because I'm going a little out of my mind." He admits.

Your heart beats even faster, you hadn't realised everyone knew about yours and Jimin's kiss, although you probably should've guessed. It's hard to be put on the spot like this but at the same time, you understand where Namjoon might be coming from. You were giving these boys nothing to work with, and most of them had been very upfront with you about the way they felt, even if you didn't always quite believe them.

"You're not pushing. I've been thinking about it a lot. Watching everyone this week, all so touchy and in love with one another, it made my heartache."

You don't turn to face him, choosing to focus on a star far in the distance. You can feel his gaze on you.

"If that's what you want, you need only ask." He whispers leaning in a little closer.

"I think it might be what I want..." You admit.

When you finally meet his eyes, his face is mere centimetres from yours.

"Then go ahead and ask me, because I am going to go insane if you don't tell me I can touch you." He says.

You can feel his breath ghosting across your lips. You're not sure if it's the proximity or the wine you'd had with dinner but your mind goes cloudy, and the only things you can see are his eyes pulling you into him.

"Touch me Namjoon." You breathe.

Immediately his hands are around your waist as he pulls you onto his lap. His pillowy lips find yours and he kissed you gently, his fingers drawing circles into your back as your legs settle on either side of his. The blanket that was across your legs falls to the ground, neither of you caring to pick it back up as his heat radiates through your body.

Slowly the kiss gets more intense and you find yourself naturally grinding down onto him. He moans underneath you and bites down on your bottom lip. His mouth travels down from your lips along your chin to the collum of your throat, he nips along the exposed flesh as you wrap your arms around him.

It's when his tongue licks over your scent gland that you finally come to your senses, feeling how hard he is underneath you, startling you away a little. The second you pull back he stops, hands coming to rest on your hips, him breathing heavily with his pupils blown as he looks at you properly.

"Sorry, I took that too far..." H apologises, moving to release you from his grasp.

"No!" You exclaim holding his hands in place. "Just no one has ever done that to me before..."

"Oh, okay, I shouldn't have assumed, it's just something most hybrids I know have done, licking a scent gland is usually reserved for horny teenagers." He looks sheepishly at the hickey he had just started to leave behind.

"I didn't... I didn't really fool around as a teenager, and my husband... he was human."

"Your... husband?" Namjoon looks especially confused, and that's when it occurs to you that none of them know... Not even Jimin is aware of where you really came from

Masterlist

#bts fic #namjoon fic #jin fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #bts hybrids #ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #bts poly #bts polyamory #outside of the fox

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sugalaritae · 10 months

Text

take two (ot7)

summary: It has been the absolute-no-good-terrible-fucking-shit-bitch-cock-sucking week from hell and all you want to do is be alone. That's what you want. Right?

pairing: ot7 + gn reader friendship (a little hit at maybe yoongi x reader)

genre: a little angst. a lot of fluff

au: slice of life, non!idol

rating: 18+

word count: 1530

warnings: swearing and the mention of needing to smoke a joint. reader's mental health is not great, self-loathing, negative thoughts, loneliness. but don't worry the guys are there to comfort them.

author’s note: i was not having a good night tonight. locked in my loneliness and listening to 'take two' (how fucking good is that song?!) and i decided i need to let out all my feelings into a fic. plus, i've wanted to write a little ot7 + reader fic for festa!! this is only very lightly edited. i love you all and i hope you're having a good month. happy 10 years to this glorious band of men whom i love so very much and thank you!!

It has been the absolute-no-good-terrible-fucking-shit-bitch-cock-sucking week from hell and all you want to do is down a very large glass of cold water, shower in scalding hot water for perhaps too long, get dressed in your rattiest holiest (and comfiest) pair of sweatpants the baggy bambie tshirt you got from the discount racks at H&M, curl up on your bed, and smoke a joint before you fall asleep.

Hopefully your neighbours won’t complain about the smell but quite frankly you don’t give a crap if they do. If anything else goes wrong then it will just be par for the shitty course. And you can blame it on Hoseok and Yoongi like you did last time. Though, the last time was their fault but that is neither here nor there.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You ignore it. You know it’s going to be Jimin or Namjoon asking if you’re okay. Again. You had needed a break from the group chat and apparently that was “concerning behaviour” (Jimin) and was worth a “check-in because everyone has bad weeks but you don’t need to lock yourself away” (Namjoon). The thing is that you are sure you do want to lock yourself away. The last few days of work stress which, of course, was accompanied by existential dread and wondering if this really was your choice in life or if you had fallen into this career path because of capitalism, or, if maybe, this was just okay because you could at least afford to pay for the thing you did love doing; your nephew’s birthday party was coming up, add onto that with the fact that your parents were aging far too quickly for your liking, and you were suddenly carrying a dark cloud on your shoulders that seemed to be made of nothing but negativity and you wanted to lock yourself away from everything.

You wanted to give into the doubt and self-hatred that had taken advantage of all the self-care doors you had forgotten to close during the week and let yourself fall into the belief that all of your friendships, no matter how small, hated you.

So, yeah, you were going to ignore Namjoon and Jimin’s concerned text messages and you were going to fall asleep alone and wake up to hopefully a better day with less everything but more croissants and coffee.

You felt bad for the ignoring and you knew that maybe you should let them reassure you that you were doing okay but hadn’t your therapist told you that self-assurance was more important than reaching out for reassurance? (She had also said that it was okay to reach out but you were ignoring that.)

You tapped your earbuds three times and skipped past the next several songs until you heard the familiar notes of a song that Yoongi had sent you just the other day with a text that had read: heard this and thought of you. You leaned your head back against the bus window and closed your eyes, hands wrapped tightly around the backpack on your lap as you let the music and the voice of the singer invade your head, swirling around and turning the volume of the lyrics on high until they drowned out all the evil words of the negative voices.

You wonder, for the seventh time this week, why Yoongi thought of you. The two of you haven’t seen each other in person and you’ve not had the energy or nerves to text him asking why he thought of you while he listened to that song, but you have a mental post-it note to do so when your head is a little less foggy.

Spotify selects the next song for you and the familiar strum of guitar starts. It’s a song you’ve listened to many times but suddenly the lyrics are for you. Written for you and your week. You try your best to stop the tears, wishing them back into your body, but they don’t listen and instead they fall slowly down your cheeks as you bend your head and bring the backpack closer to your face so you can cry quietly into the waxed canvas.

Ten minutes later, a little embarrassment from standing up with red eyes and wet cheeks as you walked down the aisle of the bus to the door, a little forced pride still lingering as you pretend that you hadn’t just been crying on the bus, you walk up the stairs to your apartment. Your key sticks, as it always does, and you take a breath because you’ve already cried once in a public space and you’re definitely not going to be caught by the Ajumma who lives two doors down, because she will definitely ask you a million questions and you want to be left alone.

That’s what you want, right? A soft voice asks somewhere deep in the recesses of your brain. Trying to grab your attention amidst the sadness.

Finally the lock works and you open the door to seven pairs of shoes that are chaotically paired in your entrance. Your heart skips a little as you hesitantly take out your earbuds and the sounds filling your apartment hit you like a wave.

There is music playing (jazz? Laufey maybe? It sounds like Laufey…), Taehyung’s deep voice singing along, the stove fan, what sounds like a metal utensil hitting a metal bowl in fast succession, and Hoseok’s loud wonderful laugh floating above it all.

Toeing off your shoes and quietly setting down your backpack you walk gingerly down the short hall and around the wall into your kitchen. They must not have heard you struggle with the lock because they’re all busy and in their own worlds. Seokjin is throwing a small strand of spaghetti at the wall and watching it stick, Jungkook is mixing something that looks an awful lot like whipped cream with a whisk and not with your hand-mixer, Yoongi stands over the stove with chopsticks in hand staring down at the contents in your cast iron pan (a sauce of some kind), Namjoon and Taehyung are dancing together in your living room (some horrible version of the waltz), while Hoseok and Jimin are huddled over what looks like a small cake.

Jungkook is the first one to notice you as he releases the whisk and massages his arm, face curled up in a wince. That is until he notices you and his fingers still.

“You’re here!” he says with a smile before he looks around at the rest of the guys.

“I live here.”

Slowly, one-by-one the men glance up from their tasks and give you bright smiles.

“Taehyung-ah!” Yoongi calls, “turn down the music. They’re here!”

The music quiets and you give Namjoon and Taehyung a small wave, slowly turning to the rest of the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

A smile threatens the corners of Yoongi’s lips as Jimin answers, “we’re here to make your week better.” There’s concern written on Jimin’s brow and your heart threatens to weep at that.

“That’s…that’s not your-” you start because it isn’t their job and they need to be reminded of this in case they’re doing this out of some sort of weird obligation to you and your sad brain.

“No, but we wanted to,” Namjoon says softly as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossing in front of him and you start to feel a warmth slowly start to slip through your chest. The clouds in your head parting just a little. “We’re happy to.”

“Oh.”

“Now, go and change while we finish up,” Seokjin says commandingly, pulling a smile across your face as you nod.

“Yes, sir.”

You turn to start your walk to your bathroom before you pause and look at Jungkook.

“There’s a hand mixer in the bottom drawer beside the sink,” you say with a pointed finger.

Hoseok’s laugh erupts filling the room and your smile spreads to a grin as you see Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he explodes “HYUNG! You said you didn’t see one!”

Yoongi shrugs and gives you a wink, a soft smirk tugging up into his cheeks, before he turns back to the sauce in front of him.

Forty-five minutes later you’re curled up on your couch, full of pasta and cake. The warmth of Yoongi’s sweater under your cheek, Jungkook resting his head against your knee as he sits on the floor with Jimin, Taehyung, and Hobi. Namjoon has his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders with his hand resting on the top of your head like a comforting weight. Seokjin sits in a chair beside the couch watching the rather horrible and wonderful drama that everyone is watching.

You’re not alone. Your friends love you.

The negative voices lied.

“Hey,” you whisper and you can feel Yoongi shift a little to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for the song.”

You can’t see it but you know that he’s smiling that soft and kind smile he gets when he’s done something right.

“Of course. I’ll send you more.”

The negative voices lied.

This is better than being alone.

You’re not alone and your friends love you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

author's note pt2: thank you for reading!!! in my head the song that yoongi sent to the reader was 'mama saturn' by tanerélle. fill in any song for the second one that spoke to the reader. remember that the negative voices lie to you.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader

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wwilloww · 2 years

Text

sh. | chapter twenty one | ot7

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.5k WARNINGS AND TAGS no use of gendered pronouns to refer to reader. some sexy dreams. duel.

AN back on the sh. horse after a short break! this chapter is the result of a poll that i did a couple of weeks ago. thank you and many hugs and kisses to @thatlongspringnight and @hesperantha and @hobi-gif for helping me out with this chapter. i have no idea where i would be without the ability to brainstorm and edit with these incredible folks.

← || series m.list || →

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: DUEL

The night winds around you, the darkness on the edge of the fire pit leaning in closer as the embers begin to burn low, painting your friends’ faces in golden shadows. Familiar shapes drift across their features as the flames flicker, but then the shapes shift, building a fragile dance between what you know and what you don’t. In a way they do look different. When just days ago they felt like strangers, they once more feel familiar. But not in the old way. Not in the way you used to know them. In a new light, like meeting a stranger on a train in a foreign city and talking through the night. It’s the kind of strange, burning closeness that feels like it could disappear at any moment.

The eight of you stay up late, huddled around the dwindling fire, sharing jokes and stories from quarantine and little touches. A hand on a thigh. Hair brushed away from an eye. Fingers tangling in the dark spots between seats. What surprises you is that even after months in quarantine passed with seemingly nothing happening in your personal life, there is still something to talk about. With them, there’s always something to talk about.

Soon, it becomes too cold to stay outside and yawns begin to pop up around the circle. Reluctantly, you all shuffle inside, as what feels like winter air rushes down the mountain towards you, slicing straight through the wool blanket you have wrapped around you.

“I wonder when it will snow,” Jimin says, taking one final glance over his shoulder towards the mountain.

“It’s quite late in the year for there to be no snow yet,” Namjoon replies, ever-knowledgeable. “Soon, I think. Soon.”

Everyone breaks into their separate directions, murmuring and mumbling goodnights.

Hoseok lingers, though. He reaches for you and squeezes your hand. When you look in his eyes, there’s a deep sadness there. You want to reach for his face, to brush the despair from the window of his gaze, but your hand remains at your side.

“I’m so sorry about everything. I’m so sorry I caused you pain.”

It’s okay, you almost say, but then you stop yourself and swallow the words down. “Thank you, Hoseok.” It’s not about excusing him. It’s about accepting him. And it’s easy to accept his apology, especially when the warmth of his hand sinks like a song into yours.

“Goodnight,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and reluctantly lets go of you.

You watch as he disappears down the hallway, an ache in your chest as you watch him go. But that ache is very quickly replaced with deep exhaustion, a weariness to your bones. Your feet hurt, your chest is tight, your eyes are heavy. All you want is to crawl into somewhere cozy and warm and cocoon for days.

Jimin, who you hadn’t realized was lingering behind you, approaches you, a hand sliding over your shoulder. You jump at the sensation. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were here.” You wonder if he witnessed the exchange between you and Hoseok.

“Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?”

You nod and he opens his arms. You rush into his hold and he squeezes you tight.

“Why do I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks?” you ask.

“I dunno,” Jimin chuckles. “Maybe you’re in love with me. Maybe you’re obsessed with me.”

You stiffen and he notices.

“You know I’m joking.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He leads you back to his room. You haven’t been in here since that memorable night with him and Jungkook, and your face warms as you think about it.

You both get ready for bed in silence. Jimin seems quieter than usual. Like he knows you’ve seen something you’re not supposed to.

When you get into bed, you cuddle closer to him, slipping underneath his arm and pressing your face to his chest. He’s like a ball of warmth shielding you against the cold.

When your fingers play against the hem of his shirt, he tenses. “You know we don’t have to do anything tonight,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “I didn’t bring you back here just because I needed a fuckening. I wanted you here because I miss you and I want to be close to you.”

You warm at the words.

“I miss you too, Jimin.”

Sleep flutters at the edge of your consciousness and you give in for a moment, letting your eyes slide shut. It feels so sweet to let yourself rest. But something nags at the back of your mind, and eyes closed, you press closer to Jimin.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

He hums in response. A non-answer. It feels like a wall between you and him. But he doesn’t say anything more, and as you wait for him, sleep takes over.

You sleep deeply.

********

The logic of a dream is something that you’ve never quite understood, let alone thought too deeply of. It appears, wrapping you in tendrils of place, time, knowing that sink into your skin. You become an actor of sorts in the play of your mind.

Tonight is no different.

The dream starts innocently enough.

In the way that dream logic operates, as soon as you step into the room—a barn converted into a dance hall—you know who you are, where you are, and what’s going on. Even as the swirl of blurred faces flashes by you, it’s like you’ve been in this world your whole life.

Here, in the barn-turned-hall, you’re surrounded by flickering candlelight as a small band of local instrumentalists sits in the corner, stringing along a lively jig while a wicked spring wind throws itself against the walls. Hordes of local townspeople trip and twirl through the space, as the band plays one perky dance song after another. Everyone knows these dances by heart. Even you find your feet tapping, itching to dance along with them in rows of coordinated patterns.

Someone calls your name and you turn to find a familiar face—Namjoon—standing behind you. As the local printer and owner of your town’s press, Namjoon was a frequent figure in your childhood, playing with you in the fields, your families joining one another for dinners and picnics. Until at some point, his frequency became familiarity, and then light smiles turned lighthearted. Recently, your heart had been flipping a little more when you saw him. His hands are stained with ink, but he’s done up finely for the occasion, trousers clean and pressed, collar standing high, and eyes shining bright in the candlelight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but a matronly stranger steps between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Kim,” she says, a smile glimmering falsely on her lips. “My daughter has been keeping her card clear all night, waiting for your arrival. Of course you’ll dance with her first.” There’s an unspoken “and only” written across her face. Immediately you don’t like her.

His smile hardens ever so slightly. Ice sinks through your veins.

He’s not yours.

“And of course we’ll want to talk about that printing job for my husband. I know how eager you are to help him with his business. Considering you’ll be part of the family oh-so soon.”

“Of course.”

His eyes flicker to yours, and as the older woman pulls him away, the back of his hand brushes against the hand you’ve got clutching your skirts. A zing of electricity sparks through you. It’s like a secret, that he’s passed to you with no one else knowing. When you look up at him, he’s looking away, at the woman he’s being led to. Your heart aches. You don’t want him looking at her like that.

That’s when you hear your name a second time.

You turn to find the local dressmaker—Hoseok—grinning before you.

“You look awfully lonely standing there like that,” he says. He leans against a lone wooden pillar, his roguish grin dancing on his lips. He’s done up nicely, as he always is, in vibrant and fashionable fabrics, always the latest styles.

“Are you just here to call me lonely and run away again?” You step closer to him, your gloved hand ghosting against his chest. He looks down at it and grins.

Your history with Hoseok in this world is fully-formed in your mind: a boy you grew up with, who liked to tug on your hair and run for the hills, who turned into a man who’d nearly kiss you before smirking and running for the hills. He always left you wanting more.

“Perhaps,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes and step away from him.

“In that case, I’ll be on my way—“

As you step away he captures your hand in his.

“Dance with me.”

“Everyone will see,” you say. In the past, Hoseok had been so careful with who saw you, when, doing what.

“I find there’s a certain kind of invisibility that one can don in a large, drunken crowd,” he offers with a grin. “On the other hand, maybe I don’t mind too much who sees.” He leans a little closer, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Maybe I want them to see.”

Since when did he want them to see?

When you hesitate, he continues.

“Please.”

You place your hand in his.

Just like that, he whisks you off into the crowd. The dance blurs the way dreams do, but all you feel is the closeness of his chest to your own, the way his hand grips your lower back like you’re something of his. Your body warms to him. He’s holding you tightly. Tighter than he should. During a twirl, where your back is pressed to his front, you feel the ghost of his lips against your neck.

“Hoseok!” you gasp.

“What?” You can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice before you turn to face him.

“You can’t do that.”

“But I want to. Do you want me to?”

The question pings something deep within you, but you find yourself answering honestly: “Yes.”

“Then let me continue.”

As he swoops before you and the music swells, he passes quickly in front of you, circling you as the dance commands. The hall fades out into darkness and it feels like it’s just the two of you, dancing among a set of stars. “What ever will I do with you?” he whispers from behind you, before stepping in front again. His gaze flickers between your lips and your eyes, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I mean, I am absolutely and entirely taken by you—and I have no idea what to do about it.”

The sincerity singing in his eyes knocks you off guard. But you scramble to your senses, quickly saying. “Well, you ought to do something about it before someone else does.”

He chuckles. He’s so close to you and you swear he’s going to kiss you. The dream narrows to a sharp sense of reality. You can feel his fingers drifting up your arm. You can smell the scent of pine and fabric on him. And though you’ve never kissed before, not by anyone, you feel like you know exactly what he will taste like, what it will feel like: like the earth being moved beneath your feet. He moves closer. And the music stops. The rest of the hall flickers back into your vision.

Someone coughs from behind you.

You step back from Hoseok and turn.

“Namjoon—”

“May I have this next dance?”

You nod eagerly, and are quick to let go of Hoseok’s hand, quick to step away from the confusion, the tension swirling through you. Though you don’t miss the hard gaze that is exchanged between them.

The music starts up again, a livelier jig than before, and you find yourself hoping alongside the sturdy man before you.

You can feel the glare of the girl burning into your back, but there’s a kind of delight in having him, having Namjoon all to yourself, even if it’s just for a moment.

His movements are strong, sincere, filled with the weight of intention. You can tell he’s been practicing his dances, but sometimes notice that he’s counting aloud, just under his breath. It makes you giggle. When someone calls out his name, encouraging him on, he accidentally steps on your toes. He apologizes profusely, and you smooth a hand along his shoulder.

“You can step on my toes any day of the week.”

As his hand grasps yours, there it is—the same warmth that was there with Hoseok is here too, writhing within you, glowing in your chest. Why is it the same? If anything, it should be different. But his hand on your lower back feels the same, his proximity still urges the same flickering light within you.

Your brow furrows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—“

“Do you need fresh air? A turn around the garden?”

“That—“ At first you’re quick to dismiss the idea, the notion of slipping away with someone you’re not supposed to. The indecency. But the thought of a chill seeping beneath the tightness of your dress and easing the strictness of your breath sounds divine. “That might help some.”

He looks relieved at your acquiescence, and takes your hand. Walking through the middle of the dance floor, he leads you to the doors.

There’s a little garden outside, one with tall bushes and a little bench that looks over the hill and down towards the town you call home. Little golden lights brighten the windows, though a few go out as you watch over them.

For a while the two of you sit in silence. This is something familiar to you. Silence with Namjoon. The way he knows when to let it settle over the two of you like a comforting blanket. You want to lean into him, but propriety says otherwise.

“The stones in your hair—“ Namjoon suddenly touches them with a careful finger, eager discovery hindered by his desire not to mess up the careful updo you’ve managed to create. “—They remind me of the stars that take up residence in your eyes when it’s dark.” In the real world, a line like that would make you cringe. It would probably make him cringe too. But here, in this world, it takes your breath away and you shiver when he says “Like this,” and leans closer, his breath brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck. But he pulls back.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?” The words tumble from your lips.

His brow furrows.

“I—” He stops himself before going any further.

I do want to touch you but—.

A million sentences could follow that “but,” and you lay waiting for them.

“We—we should be getting inside. Before anyone thinks anything of your disappearance.” His face is set, his jaw tight.

“I’d very much like to be in charge of my own disappearing acts,” you say. But then you soften. You have your reputation to think of. “But—you’re right. Best to avoid the gossip.”

Namjoon leads you back inside, the heat of all those bodies hitting you as the doors swing open to reveal no one other than your Hoseok. Yours? The natural claim surprises you.

Hoseok’s gaze lights on the gentle grasp you have on Namjoon’s arm and his eyes narrow.

When he speaks your name, there’s an edge to it. But you realize it’s not directed at you. Namjoon, however, seems to notice who it is directed at—himself—and tightens his grasp on you.

“You know,” Namjoon says, turning you towards him. “You ought to come by the press sometime. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you around those parts of town. I’m adding on a little wing—a bookery—”

“Or you could use your free time to come by the shop,” Hoseok cuts in quickly, his hand reaching for yours. He turns you towards him. Never, not once, had you ever seen him show such an apparent display of affection. “I’d love to make a dress for you.” His gaze roves over you. “I could guess your measurements, but there’s something about the experience of having someone make something just for you. The experience of an expert dressmaker—” In his eyes you see what he imagines. The measuring tape held tightly between his teeth, his hands ghosting over your figure as he drapes fabric and takes measurements. The goosebumps that will rise. The looks that will be exchanged. That concentrated look you know and love so well as he crafts a garment just for you.

Perhaps the shoulder of your dress will slip off, revealing untouched skin. Perhaps Hoseok will take notice. Perhaps he will slowly, but delicately, fix the fallen fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I have the best editions of books for leagues,” Namjoon continues, shouldering in front of Hoseok. “I know you love to read. I’ll have only the best selections laid out for you. You should see the gilding on these books.” In Namjoon’s gaze, you see his hopes flicker. “We could even take the books out. On a tour of sorts. Maybe a picnic.” You know that this is a big deal to him. Namjoon never let his precious books out into the sunlight, let alone into a potentially muddy field, with all its hazards. But you can’t help but let the idea of a picnic with Namjoon fill your imagination. The sunlight dancing on the planes of his glowing face, his fingers drifting nearer and nearer to yours—

“In fact, I’ve been meaning to try out a new French style,” Hoseok continues. If you’d be willing to be my model I’d love to practice—and of course you could keep the dress. A gift.” He grins.

“I could show you how to use the press. You could put your poems into print. Our very own local poet.”

“I could—“

“My goodness,” you cut in, and both of the men quiet, waiting with rapt attention for what you have to say. “I’ll have a hard time choosing between whether to spend my money on a new dress or a new book,” you say, flattered by the pressing attention though unsure of how to break the tension that hangs like silken spiderwebs between the two men.

“It’s a gift!“ Both men say at the same time.

“But for now, I ought to say goodnight.”

You think the only way through this situation is out, so you turn your back, not missing the fallen faces of the two men, but just as you do:

“I’ve asked your father for your hand.”

You whirl around. The two men that hold your heart stand behind you, but instead of staring at you, they’re staring at one another.

“You’re already engaged,” Hoseok says, his eyes burning into Namjoon.

“An engagement that can be broken.”

“You’ve always been quick to break things, haven’t you?” Hoseok says. “What, for instance, were you doing out in the garden?” He steps closer to Namjoon, leveling him eye to eye.

“It’s none of your business,” Namjoon cuts back.

“It is though, isn’t it?” Hoseok says, before turning to you. “Your father said yes to me, so you are my business now.”

“Your father said yes to me as well.”

The two men glare heatedly at one another. A small crowd has gathered around you all.

“Then I suppose there’s only one way to solve this,” Hoseok says.

Namjoon nods.

“On that point I can agree with you.”

“A duel.”

The two men storm out of the room, but not before Namjoon hesitates, gripping your hand in his.

“I’m doing this for you.”

“I don’t want you to do this for me. Just stay, stay. We can sort this all out.”

Namjoon shakes his head and disappears.

You run out of the hall after them, but they’ve already taken off towards the thick woods that surround the hall. You walked here, but launch yourself onto the closest horse, who whinnies with dissent, and speed off after them. The trees whip at your face, your dress, like hands grabbing you from the darkness, but still you speed on.

Soon you reach a clearing.

Everything is wrong. There should be witnesses for a duel. There should be a reason for a duel. The two men stand fifteen feet apart, pistols drawn. There is a hardness to their faces, one you don’t recognize. One that scares you. Would they really go to such lengths to tear each other apart, just to get to you?

The notion frightens you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hoseok says through gritted teeth.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you cry.

Namjoon ignores you and nods solemnly.

Duel.

The harsh trill of a cellphone ringing breaks through the early morning mist, and you look down to find a phone in hand, the number 222-2222 lighting up the screen. A strange mixture of confusion and dread fills you as you press the answer key but nothing happens. You press again.

The ringing doesn’t stop.

You open your mouth to say something, to call out to them again, but their confused, angry faces are getting farther away. The meadow before you is fading, the fabric of the grass turning into actual fabric, the world darkening, zooming out—

A clock before you reads 2:23am, and you half understand you’re in bed, as a voice behind you grumbles, and murmurs, “Jin, why the hell are you calling me at this godforsaken hour.”

Muffled, but clearly enough you hear: “I think you should come to our room.”

“Why? I’m sleeping.”

“You know, we could be doing things other than sleeping.”

“I already have a sleeping buddy.”

“Even better. Bring them.”

“Hit me up when it’s not the fucking middle of the night. Goodnight Jin.”

A dial tone.

Shuffling behind you.

A hand slipped over your waist.

“Sorry.”

You revel in the touch, how it feels so similar to dancing with Hoseok, with Namjoon, and you cuddle closer to the warmth.

You go searching for the tendrils of the dream. You find candlelight, the crisp smell of a garden in spring, the feeling of being pressed close to a body. Wanted. You go searching, looking for a door back into the world you were just in.There’s a desperate need to know what happens next. To know they’re okay.

But all you find is smoke.

At some point waking descends out of the flashes of logic and into a landscape you’re unfamiliar with: rolling hills and marshes, towering ancient trees that provide shelter from a distant sun and long grasses. You find yourself reaching back through the dream for the familiar and warm touch of broad hands pressed to your lower back, but all you find is the damp coldness of spring.

Half-awake, you wipe your hand across your damp forehead. There’s someone close, you can tell by the warmth next to you in the bed, the feeling of it drawing you like a moth to a flame and when you burrow into their side, their face, their identity, flickers between seven different faces. Sleep pulls you back in, and with a sense of loss, you don’t dream again.

When you wake fully the sun is just beginning to peek over the mountains, tossing rosy hues around the bedroom willy nilly. It’s one of those mornings where you blink awake and your whole body zings with energy. You’re on the far side of the bed from Jimin and he sleeps peacefully, a little bit curled up in himself.

You slip out of bed and tiptoe through the house. Finding yourself in the library, perhaps subconsciously looking for someone in particular, you find it empty. On the table lies a book.

It’s a beautiful thing, ornate and gilded, but new, like it’s been produced in the last couple of years. You pick it up and flip through. Random words catch your eye: the unwinding crevice, blueberry sunsets, the body beneath the body. That’s enough to convince you. You pick it up and carry it out with you.

Someone’s puffy jacket is hanging on a hook near the door and you slip it on before heading outside. They won’t mind, you think. The air is cool and crisp, but is warming from the golden touch of the sun.

You eye the fire pit, where you had been so comfortable last night. But in the morning light, it looks stark and barren and empty. You don’t want to feel that way. You look to the forest. Even as something tight coils in your stomach, you find yourself drifting towards it.

That’s when you know: you’re going to climb a tree. Just like when you were a kid, you’re going to find a tree and you’re going to climb it.

It takes a while to find the perfect one: a sturdy one with big, frequent branches. You grin.

You slip the book into the jacket, zipping it up tight so that the book is pressed to your chest. Then with one hand, you grasp the rough bark of the branch immediately above your head and begin your journey upward.

This feels like something you’re not supposed to be doing, climbing the tree like this, let alone with a book as beautiful as the one you carry tucked away in your jacket. Still, you climb higher, wrapping your hands around the next branch and hauling yourself up.

When you’re high enough, you stop and settle into the nook between branch and trunk, resting your back against it. The corners of the book poke into you, but you find yourself breathing deep and finding a space of rest within yourself. The cool morning air fills your lungs, finds a home in your limbs. The tree supports you, holds you.

Carefully, you pull out the book and begin reading. The pages of the book flutter in the late autumn air, a crisp sound, like birds wings in summer. In all honesty, you don’t really understand what’s going on. The story is beautiful, a story about a young adult winding their way through a foreign city, interacting with stranger after stranger, but the sentences are long, the words big, and the meaning blurry. But the language, oh the language. You can feel the beat of the words, like a drum in your head. It pounds out a song like you’ve never heard before, one that winds through you and settles warmly in your chest. There’s something familiar here, even if you don’t know what it is.

That blurry song follows you to the end of the first chapter. But the last lines, the last lines, are what bring it all into focus.

“Are you going to come home?” Beatrice asks.

“What do you mean, ‘home?’”

“I mean whatever you want it to mean. Whatever you make it to mean.”

And something within you aches in response.

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park-jimin-isnt-real · 2 years

Text

"edge of tonight" ~ part ten, the aftermath

pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader) rating: T 16+ genre: mafia au, angst this part: Everyone copes in their own way (even if it isn't really coping at all). tw: mafia au!, angst, swearing, panic attacks, implied/referenced self harm, implied/referenced suicide/suicidal tendencies word count: ~6.0k track #13: Blue & Grey ~ BTS: "Can you look at me 'cause I am blue and grey?" the edge of tonight masterlist an: hey look, an update after one month instead of five :D i really really hope you all like this chapter, i am super worried about it. the last four or five chapters have been huge lore drops, and this one is not that. so please please please let me know what you think of this one, especially if you liked it. thank you for reading, thank you for continuing to stick this out, and i really hope you enjoy!

Present-day...

Yoongi's glass slipped from his hand, but not even the sound of glass shattering broke anyone out of their trance.

"I was right there," you continued, voice cracking as those memories bombarded your mind, drowning you in flashes of things you didn't want to remember. "I was right there, god, you were right there." Your eyes screwed shut, fighting against the images that still plagued you. The office was silent but all you could hear were echoes from a bygone age as your heart hammered in your ears and you tried to explain.

"I couldn't—it was such a bad day—they were so—I couldn't move—everything hurt so much—my throat was raw with how much they made me scream so I couldn't—I couldn't answer you when you called for me—"

You dug your nails into your palms, desperate for the relief you knew came from seeing your blood. Pain meant you were in the here and now, it made you focus on what was real and not what was long over. Except it was never over, not really, not when it still felt like your chest was being pried open and you were bleeding out in that room.

"—and I waited—I waited for you—I waited for so long—" A sob broke through, despite your best efforts to keep everything down. You were on the verge of a panic attack, you knew the signs well at this point. You needed to get out before you started hyperventilating, before you got worse.

You felt the faintest touch on your knee and recoiled, "Don't touch me!" Jungkook threw himself back, you weren't sure how or when he ended up on the floor. Your eyes met his, wide and shining with unshed tears, and you could see your pain mirrored back at you. His mouth was open – you could sense the apology on his tongue – but he couldn't bring himself to speak. What exactly would he be apologizing for?

You swallowed and forced yourself to take a breath, though it came out in a shaky huff. Jungkook's touch was what you needed to ground yourself again, if only temporarily. You blinked your remaining tears back, keeping your face down as you wiped it with your jacket sleeve. Your voice was quiet, but stable when you spoke again.

"So those four years I'm unaccounted for, I was still in that goddamn room. I got out and went straight to Busan, and I've been there ever since."

The tension in the room was starting to be too much for you. Despite knowing them, despite having been friends so long ago, the room was too small and there were too many people around you, looking at you, too close to you. You felt the panic begin to swell up again. You needed to get out.

"Look, I've had a shit night, and I'm gonna have a shit morning," you forced the words out as you stood, "was there anything else you wanted?"

Yes!

That's what they wanted to say. Unanswered questions hung in the air like ornaments on a tree—if you walked away now, would you ever tell them more? If you left, would you ever come back?

"I think we've all had enough for one night."

Jimin's voice was uncharacteristically serious, carrying a stoicism the rest rarely heard. You looked up and met his eyes; there was a gentle firmness there that you didn't know what to do with. So you nodded and began walking towards the door. "Mind if I crash on the couch?"

That snapped Jin out of his stupor. "NO, no, we have a spare bed you can use—"

"I don't sleep on beds," you said as you walked past him, not even offering him a glance. You fought to keep your steps even, trying to keep yourself calm until you were alone.

"I’m not going to let you—"

"Hyung," Jimin spoke up again, "let her go."

You ducked your head, shoulders hunched, trying to shrink in on yourself as you made your small escape. They were frozen, unable to move as they listened to the clack clack clack of your heels on the hardwood floor and down the stairs before you reached the carpet on the ground floor. The office finally started breaking apart in silence.

Jungkook cried, face scrunched up and hand over his mouth. He was right, it was a misunderstanding, a mistake – but it had cost Namjoon everything. He understood why you were so hurt and scared now, why you weren't angry. You blame yourself for that night just as much. If only you were a little faster, a little louder. If only Namjoon had waited for one more second.

Hoseok felt like he was going to burst from guilt. He was outside that door. He was the one who told Namjoon they had to go. If you weren't there, then you weren't there, and they would have to try again later or look somewhere else. He had cried with Namjoon so much that night, mourning their failure, the loss of you slicing through his chest all over again.

Yoongi stood stoically, calmly, quietly, the way he always did; but his fist was shaking at his side and his jaw was clenched. He didn't know who or what he was angry at. Was he angry at you for holding this against them – against Namjoon – all these years, while they had worked their asses off trying to find you, to bring you back? Was he angry at Namjoon or Hoseok for not being more thorough when they were checking that room for you? Or was he angry at himself for getting shot and being the cause of them having to abort the mission early?

Jin held his head in his hands. There was far more to your story than you let on tonight, but he wondered if they would ever be ready to hear it all. Everything that happened to you, all that you've been through… He was sure it would only tear them apart more.

Namjoon stared ahead at the chair you were sitting on. He replayed that night over and over and over again in his head. A locked door, a room with only a bed, you heard him, you saw him, and he left you there. He should have done more, he should have checked, he should have found you. He was right there, you were right there. So many years, so much pain, so much suffering, all because of one small choice.

It was the biggest mistake he ever made.

Taehyung and Jimin shared an endless look, practically speaking telepathically. A slight head tilt towards the others in the room. A small raise of an eyebrow. An indignant frown. Jimin rolled his eyes but gave a wave of his hand. Tae offered a boxy smile and then carefully followed after you.

Jimin looked around the office, observing how everyone was doing. Namjoon and Jungkook were the worst, unsurprisingly. A bomb dropped like that, from you, onto Namjoon – Jimin would be amazed if the leader recovered within the next month. And Jungkook, well, his heart was too big for his body, and with how big his muscles were that was saying something.

The guilt and regret were palpable in the room. They were so close. And they failed. Namjoon might have been the one who wanted you back the most, but finding you was the main goal for all four of them. They all wanted you back – to eat with, to fight with, to laugh with, to love. You were the only one who could fill the you-sized hole that was left in their group the night you were taken away. And they were so close.

"Jin-hyung," Jimin said quietly, his voice strangely gentle. "Can you take Hoseok-hyung to his room and stay with him?" The eldest nodded stiffly, easily yielding to the younger, though it took him a moment before he started moving. He didn't say anything, just lightly held onto Hoseok’s elbow and pulled him up as Jin stood. Hoseok was shaking, even as Jin wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him out.

Jimin went over to Jungkook next, kneeling down next to the maknae. He carefully pulled Jungkook's hand from his face and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "It's okay now, Kookie," he whispered, "she's okay now."

"No she's not, she—"

"Isn't there anymore," Jimin cut him off. "She's here now. She's safe."

"But—"

"We can't change the past, Kookie. What happened is what happened. But she's here now. I need you to focus on that, okay?" Jungkook took a shaky breath in but nodded. Jimin gripped his hand and pulled both of them up. "She's gonna stay the night, when you came from her place did you bring anything?"

The maknae shook his head and wiped the last tear tracks off his face. "Just the money bag."

"Okay, why don't you and Yoongi-hyung head back over and grab the rest of her stuff?" He looked over to where Yoongi still stood quietly. "Is that okay hyung? You two are the only ones who've been there, and Kook probably shouldn't go by himself." The hitman nodded, letting out a breath.

"Come on, Kook-ah," he tilted his head towards the door and waited for the youngest to be by his side before they started out. "You want the door closed, Chim?"

"Yes, thank you hyung." The pair took their leave, Yoongi closing the door behind them.

Which finally left Jimin alone with Namjoon.

The thing about Jimin that had been solidified the moment Namjoon met him, was that he was a little shit. There were few things he enjoyed more than pushing buttons and getting a rise out of someone. The flip-side to that, Namjoon discovered much later, was that Jimin could also be the gentlest member when he needed to be. That's why he was assigned to the abused and traumatized people who came to them for help.

That's why the elders let him take the lead tonight.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

Taehyung made it about halfway down the staircase when you came into view, curled up and shaking on their black leather couch, facing the back of it. Your heels and hat had been discarded to the side, next to a large black duffle bag, and you were trying to use the jacket as a blanket. Tae turned around and went back up the stairs, ducking into the first bedroom he reached (which happened to be Jungkook's).

He went straight to the bed and threw a pillow towards the door and pulled the comforter off the mattress. You wanted to sleep on the couch and that was fine, but there was no way Jin wouldn't have their heads in the morning if no one offered to make said couch more comfortable for you. Bundling the items up in his arms, Tae exited Jungkook's room, and almost ran into Jungkook himself as he and Yoongi were leaving.

"Be careful with her, okay hyung?" the maknae whispered. Taehyung smiled over the bundle and nodded. The three descended the staircase together, and though Yoongi and Jungkook gave you lingering looks, they continued on to the garage and left you and Tae alone.

Without any fanfare, Taehyung dropped the blanket and pillow on top of you. The suddenness of the action made you jump slightly, and you took in a sharp breath, but you didn't look up to see who it was. "I don't need anything," you said, but not as firmly as you wanted. Tae shrugged, even though you couldn't see it.

"It gets cold down here, especially at night. It is winter, after all."

You didn't respond. Instead, you moved the pillow under your head and kicked at the blanket until it fully covered you. If he was going to go through the trouble of getting all of it for you, you might as well use it. Their couch wasn't much better than the one you'd been using the past few months. Under the blanket, you held your jacket close to your chest, unwilling to let it go.

"Thank you."

It was so quiet Taehyung thought that maybe he imagined you saying it, but seeing you essentially burrow yourself beneath the cover proved him otherwise. He sat down on the floor, leaned against the couch, and was careful to not touch you. "I think I already know the answer, but are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, finally fully calming down. You swiped a hand over your face, clearing away the last of the tear trails, as you answered, "Why do you care?"

"Because everyone who isn't me or Jimin cares about you, and we care about them." You scoffed quietly, but he continued on. "And don't you dare try and tell me they don't. I've known Namjoon for eight years now and the only thing he talks about other than you is that time at the beach when he caught like, seven crabs."

It wasn't the full truth, there were other things Namjoon talked about, but Tae specifically remembered the crab story because it was the first one he heard and he once ended up hearing it three times in a row.

You bit your lip, forcing the soft feeling of fondness away. "He still tells that story?"

Tae waited a moment before answering, following the pattern you set up. "On his good days, yeah, when it doesn't look like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'll play basketball with Yoongi-hyung, even though he's way too clumsy for it, and he'll join Kookie and Hoseok-hyung in their video game marathons, even though those two are the worst cheaters I've ever known. And Jin-hyung will make dinner and he'll actually join us and tell stupid stories that we've all heard too many times, but we let him anyway because goddamn it's nice to actually see him smile again, even if it only lasts for the day."

He let out a breath. He hadn't meant to let all of that out, but, well, it was out. Tae wondered for a moment if this counted as being careful with you like Jungkook asked.

More tears pricked at your eyes as you listened to what constituted Namjoon's good days. "That sounds nice," you whispered. "Sounds normal." Like the way things used to be.

"Yeah? What do your good days look like?" Tae asked.

You had to think about that for a moment. If a good day for Namjoon was doing the things he used to do, the things he did ten years ago, then you hadn't had a good day in ten years. Your good days were ones where you didn't argue with Jackson, or you got more than three hours of sleep at a time without any nightmares.

"Staying alive," you finally answered, hugging the jacket impossibly closer to yourself, the only lifeline you still had, the one thing that connected you to your past. Up until tonight, that was.

Taehyung's eyes widened. "Damn." Now he knew what Jungkook was getting at, what the maknae could sense before anyone else. Maybe Jimin should've been the one down here talking to you instead. "You really are something else."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tae thought for a moment if you weren't so sad, you might have sounded affronted at his comment.

"People who have been through less than you have chosen not to survive." Those cases hurt Jimin the most, and Tae was usually the one to help him pick up the pieces and put them back together.

"Can't win the game if you're dead." You repeated the phrase Jackson had fed you over the years. That's why I need you to be careful out there, especially on your jobs. Above all else, you need to stay alive.

"Ugh," Taehyung scoffed, "you sound like Namjoon-hyung planning something. Everything's a game you need to win." He felt you shuffling behind him and looked over his shoulder to see you twisting around yourself to look at him.

"I'm sorry, are you new to the Underground, or do you just not pay attention?" He rolled his eyes at you, then turned away again. "Everything here is a game, and if you don't play, you lose."

"Aren't things different where you're from? North and South and all that?"

"Same game, different name." You laid back down, facing the back of the couch once more. "In Seoul, there's more glory outsmarting your enemy; in Busan, it's outliving them."

Tae nodded. "So, you're winning the game right now?"

"I'm winning a game. I'm losing several others."

"There's more than one??" This was why Taehyung was not one of the planners or strategists. This was why he did intel and negotiations. Whatever the fuck Namjoon and the rest of the hyungs—and apparently you—did, Taehyung wanted no part in it.

Something that almost sounded like a laugh came from behind him, and he couldn't help but feel proud. He wasn't Jimin or Jungkook, but Taehyung could still help with the more delicate things where he needed to. "Feeling better?"

You moved your shoulder in a small half-shrug. "I guess." Your panic attack had entirely subsided by now, and he did prove a good distraction—a better distraction than what you normally had. Jackson wasn't really a sit down and talk type of person, not since you'd left Seoul for Busan. "Sleep is still gonna be a bitch though." Like usual.

"Then don't get sleep," Taehyung offered, "get rest."

You looked over your shoulder at the back of his head again. "There's a difference?"

"I'm sorry, are you new to being a human being, or do you just not know things?"

"The first one," you answered, partly joking. Partly not. Tae let out a sigh.

"Jimin is an insomniac, though for reasons much different than yours. It took me for-fucking-ever to get it through his thick, stubborn skull, that even if his mind wouldn't shut up, he still needed to lay his ass down and let his body chill for a while." Taehyung finally stood up and brushed the few wrinkles out of his clothes. "So if you can't get sleep on your own, that's fine. Just, chill instead. Give your body a chance to recover."

You rolled over fully to look at him, and you caught his gaze. "That bit about you two being friends—that was the only true thing you told me that night, wasn't it?"

Taehyung smirked. "I'll never tell."

You raised a single eyebrow at him, and Tae swore that in that moment you looked like a carbon copy of Namjoon. He made a mental note to never piss you off, in fear that your wrath would be worse than his boss's. "Liar."

The smirk grew into a full boxy smile. You were smarter than you let on, than what most people probably assumed. "Get some rest, Y/N," Tae said before heading back to the staircase. You watched him ascend without looking back at you, then you rolled over again, tucking yourself into the couch as much as you could.

Rest. The idea sounded too good to be true. Jackson always had work for you to do when you couldn't sleep, always something to keep you busy. If you weren't sleeping, if you weren't doing something, then you started thinking. And when you started thinking, you started thinking too much. And when you started thinking too much, you would fall into a spiral of your own worst fears—and when that happened, Jackson was the only one who could get you to stop, to pull you out of the rabbit hole of your mind.

And you hated yourself a little bit more every time.

So, no, you would not be getting rest. You would try to get some sleep, as you did every night, and if that didn't work, then you would get up and snoop through Jin's kitchen for leftovers (because goddamn you missed Jin's cooking, even though you would never tell him that) and you would start planning on what you were going to do in the morning.

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

The car ride was silent. Yoongi drove. Jungkook rested his head against the window, watching the streets as they passed by. He knew Yoongi was struggling in his own way and he wanted to help but... Jungkook was still reeling himself. He could finally understand why you were always so on guard around them, but more than that, he understood you.

Four years locked up, used and abused, forced to do what others wanted – if Jungkook hadn't found Namjoon, he would've ended up like you. Depressed and jaded and untrusting. But Namjoon found Jungkook before that could even start happening to him. No one ever found you, not really. Jungkook was lucky. You weren't. It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

"Jungkook," Yoongi's voice was quiet – it was always quiet, but it wasn't as stable as it usually was. "You're thinking way too much. Seriously, I can hear it over my overthinking." The quip was supposed to at least make the youngest smile, but there wasn't so much as even a huff. Yoongi glanced over and nudged Jungkook's shoulder. "Hey, Kookie, out with it. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"It isn't fair," the maknae mumbled.

Yoongi couldn't hear him. "Come again?"

"Hyung, it isn't fair!" He finally looked away from the window but still didn’t make eye contact with the elder.

Yoongi decided to pull over. This was one of those conversations, and he wanted to give the youngest his full attention. "Life isn't fair, Kook-ah."

"No, I know, but—" He groaned and threw his head back against the headrest. Yoongi waited, knowing there was more. Jungkook just needed a minute to get his thoughts in order. He was like Namjoon in that sense. Finally, he quietly asked, "Hyung, were you right?"

"I'm always right."

"Did I replace Y/N?"

"Except when I said that." It wasn't one of Yoongi's proudest moments. He, like Namjoon and Hoseok, was struggling to cope after that first year of you being gone. When Namjoon got back to the apartment with a new kid in tow, Yoongi snapped.

"You can't just disappear for hours and then reappear with another kid who's too young to get into this! You did this last time—it's like you're trying to replace her!"

Jin chewed him out for a while after that, and though it took Yoongi a few days to calm down, he did eventually apologize to both Namjoon and Jungkook. The youngest forgave him and gave him a hug, which was even more off-putting, but Yoongi always had a small worry in the back of his head that the outburst hurt Jungkook more than he ever let on.

And occasionally, Yoongi was right.

"You didn't replace anyone, you know that," he tried to reassure him, but Jungkook only shook his head. "Jungkook. Look at me." It took a minute, but the maknae did as he was told. Yoongi saw the glint of tears in his eyes and suppressed a sigh. Sometimes this kid really was too young and too soft for this job.

"You did not replace anyone." Yoongi spoke quietly but firmly, making sure his words stuck. "You were not the new Y/N, and you're still not the next Namjoon, I don't care what Jin-hyung's been telling you." That did get a small smile out of him, but only for a moment. "You're you, and we wouldn't have you any other way."

"I just..." Jungkook sighed, turning away again to look out the windshield. "I feel like I traded places with her. I was in a bad place until I found you guys, and then I wasn't, and I ended up...normal. But it was the exact opposite for her. She lost you guys and everything got so much worse, and now she's..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe you.

Yoongi hummed and sat in silence for a bit before speaking up again. "Kookie, would you still be you, if you were still in the underground boxing rings?" Jungkook shook his head. "No," Yoongi agreed, "you would not be our overly-eager happy-go-lucky maknae." The elder squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't even want to imagine what a dark, brooding Jeon Jungkook looks like."

"I'd have a lot more tattoos," Jungkook mumbled.

"Your muscles would be even bigger, which is extra terrifying because your thighs could already crush my head like a grape."

"Hyung, I've only done the watermelon thing twice."

"Twice is still too many times!" Jungkook finally laughed, smiling brightly, albeit at Yoongi's discomfort. But at least he was laughing. He waited a moment for the maknae to calm down a bit before continuing. "So will you trust me when I say that, despite everything, Y/N is still Y/N?"

"Are you sure?" Jungkook questioned, still worried.

"I mean, she's a little more bitter and is holding a few more grudges, but," Yoongi half-shrugged, "yeah, her firecracker spirit is still there." He put the car in gear and started driving again, now that the more serious moments had passed.

Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed. "But, in all the stories—"

"Everyone tells them wrong."

"—she's always so sweet."

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. "You've been told about the time she cursed us out."

"When Hoseok-hyung got stabbed?" Yoongi nodded. "Yeah, but that was just a one-time thing."

"No, Hoseok getting stabbed was a one-time thing. That was just the first time she yelled at any of us. It started happening a lot more after that."

It was usually Yoongi you fought with back then. That's why all the stories the others told painted you in such a bright light. Namjoon and Hoseok were cowards when it came to disagreeing with you, and Jin seemed to be the one person you listened to without complaint. But Yoongi knew better.

You were a brat.

And ten years later, you were still a brat. You were just a brat with an agenda now (one Yoongi would be more than happy to assist with if you would let him).

Jungkook let out a breath, finally relaxing. "So Jimin-hyung was right?"

"Jimin is never right."

"Y/N is gonna be okay now?"

"Except when he said that." Jimin could actually still be wrong, but Yoongi didn't want to upset Jungkook again. Poor kid had been through enough tonight already. "She's back with us now. She'll be okay."

The car went back into silence, but Jungkook's mind started racing again with different questions. Would you really be okay? And what if you decided to leave again? Would you be okay then too? Or would things get worse for you again? What if—

"Jungkook, I swear to god—"

"I'm sorry!" And he was, but Jungkook couldn't help the small laugh that slipped out of him. "You know we can talk about your thoughts and feelings too, hyung."

"Not a chance, kid." Yoongi had a plan: he was going to keep all his emotions locked up tight in his chest, and then one day he would die. Plan B was sneaking down to Daegu for a weekend and beating his thoughts and feelings out there, but Jin and Namjoon would never agree to that, so Plan A it was.

"You can talk it out with me now," Jungkook offered, "or you can talk it out with Jimin-hyung later." Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Think I'll pass on both accounts, thanks." Thankfully, they had finally arrived at your apartment, giving Yoongi an easy out of this conversation. He pulled up to the curb and shut the engine off. "Alright, let's make this fast. That back alley gives me the creeps." He reached around to the backseat for the smaller duffle he'd grabbed to bring your few belongings back.

"Do you think someone could've been watching her?" Jungkook asked. "There's plenty of vantage points back there."

"Song might've been keeping an eye on her," Yoongi considered. "All the more reason to hurry." He opened the door and climbed out, Jungkook following right behind him. As they made their way through the narrow alleyway, Jungkook spoke up again.

"Can we get takeout after?" He whispered.

Yoongi balked. "No!" He whisper-yelled back.

"Please, hyung?" Jungkook pouted.

"No place is gonna be open this late." Yoongi shot back. He looked up and around once they were through. Jungkook was right, there were a plethora of places anyone could've watched you from. Were you being watched? Did you know about it?

Jungkook hurried down the steps ahead of Yoongi. "There's that one Chinese place, around the corner from where Hoseok-hyung works. It's open 24 hours." He pushed the door open and walked into the dark apartment, Yoongi right behind him.

"Kid—"

"I don't think she's eaten tonight." And knowing you and your living situation, Yoongi knew Jungkook was probably right. He threw the duffle on the couch.

"Fine." Yoongi sighed and pulled out his phone. "But you're paying for your own food."

⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟

An opening door woke you up.

It was another reason why you hated closed doors. You were a light sleeper on the best of days, but the sound of a door opening had become so ingrained into your very being that even if you did manage to actually fall asleep, the second a door opened around you, you were awake.

You shot up with a gasp, looking over the couch towards where the sound came from. No one had left that you knew of, and they should have a high enough security system that people can't just walk in. And if for whatever godforsaken reason they didn't, you would be having words with Hobi in the morning.

"Who's there?" You called, not expecting an answer. You weren't expecting any noise really, so the sounds of plastic bags and keys only confused you, especially when you did get an answer back.

"Y/N?"

"Yoongi?" You heard footsteps come towards you, and then there he was, a bag of what could only be standard takeout in his hand. Jungkook followed in after him with another bag of takeout and a duffle over his shoulder. "When did you leave?"

"When Tae brought you the blanket," he answered.

"We went to get the rest of your stuff," Jungkook added.

"Why?" (You knew the answer, but you still refused to admit it to yourself).

"You're staying the night," Jungkook started, speaking far gentler than he had when he spoke to you in your apartment, "and so we thought—"

"I mean, if you really wanna sleep in Tae's overly-priced wannabe ball gown, be my guest," Yoongi cut the younger off, placing the food on a side table across the room and began to unpack the boxes. It wasn't that Jungkook couldn't explain, but Yoongi spoke your language better.

"If you wanted me to sleep, you wouldn't have come back until morning," you fired back.

"2 A.M. is morning." He started unpacking the takeout boxes and opened one, taking a bite off an egg roll.

"Did we wake you up?" Jungkook asked softly, dropping the duffle containing your things next to your small pile next to the couch. You turned to face forward and crossed your legs, still hidden beneath the blanket.

"You can't really call it sleep, but yeah, the door woke me up."

Yoongi's jaw ticked at that; he'd bring it up later. Instead, he brought a pair of chopsticks and a couple of boxes of takeout over to you. "Well, if you can't really call it sleep, then you can get some actual food in you."

You glared up at Yoongi. He glared down at you. I'm not hungry was on the tip of your tongue. His eyes narrowed slightly. I dare you. "Have you had anything other than coffee today?"

"Yes," he answered indignantly. "I've had half an egg roll." You rolled your eyes but took the food a bit begrudgingly. (It smelled so good, and it had been a long time since you've had company you actually enjoyed while you ate—but you still refused to admit that to yourself).

"Stop helping me," you muttered as you opened one of the boxes. Hot steam floated up and your stomach betrayed you by growling.

"Not hungry, my ass," Yoongi muttered back. He walked back across the room and finished the egg roll. Jungkook sat down on the floor next to the couch and started taking out more food.

"I'm not eating all of that," you told him.

"Kook-ah, bed."

Jungkook froze. "But hyung!"

"No buts. Take your food and go bunk with Tae for the night." Yoongi sat down and began stuffing his mouth, effectively shutting down any other argument Jungkook might have had.

The youngest pouted but did as he was told, putting the boxes back into the bag and standing back up. He looked at you, his wide eyes pleading with you to let him stay. Instead, you gave him a small smile. "Night, Bunny Boy."

Somehow, Jungkook pouted more, but turned and went upstairs. Leaving you and Yoongi alone. The two of you sat and ate in silence for a while, occasionally catching each other's gaze. Despite the distance between you, it was almost like looking into a mirror. Years of pain and heartbreak reflected back at each of you, but Yoongi saw the underlying emptiness in you. He knew that emptiness personally.

He wanted to ask. He wanted to keep you talking until the full decade of mysteries had been unraveled, until every question had an answer. Until he knew without a doubt that you were okay, that you were going to be okay.

But Jimin was right: everyone had had enough, including you. Everyone wanted answers, but everyone had waited for this long to get them. They could all wait a bit longer. "Don't run off once we're all in bed, yeah?"

You let out a sigh and set the nearly empty takeout box to the side. "You really want me to stick around, don't you?" Yoongi half-shrugged.

"For as long as you'll have us." He stood and started packing up what was left of the food. "The kitchen is back that way," he gestured to one of the rooms behind you, "you can leave whatever you don't eat in there. And there's a bathroom around the corner you can change in."

You only nodded. He finished cleaning up and started making his way upstairs. "Hey, Yoongi?" He paused and turned to face you. Your lips turned up ever so slightly, but he could still see it. "You're a piece of shit."

He stood frozen on the steps for a moment too long, just staring at you. You almost wondered if the shock was too much for him. Then he smiled, wide and gummy, the one you only saw on the rarest of occasions. "I missed you too, jagiya."

Fondness and familiarity rushed through your chest at the name he had given to you so long ago. For the first time that night, you didn't completely regret your decision to stay in Seoul.

"Go to sleep at a reasonable hour," you told him as you finally pulled the blanket off yourself and stood, stretching out your arms and legs, and grabbing the bag Jungkook left next to your stuff.

"We passed reasonable nearly four hours ago," Yoongi replied, starting back up the stairs. You waited another moment, until you heard a door open and close, before heading in the direction of the bathroom to change. You really did want to get out of the dress (but you would never admit that to Yoongi).

After getting a chance to wash your face and brush your teeth and change into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, you took one more detour to put the leftover takeout in the fridge—which had a shocking amount of takeout containers for a kitchen Jin was running—then collapsed back on the couch.

The emotional weight of the night finally started getting to you, and the sudden exhaustion made it easy for your eyes to close and for you to fall into what you hoped was a long and dreamless sleep.

thank you again for reading!! please let me know what you think. i am already working on the next chapter, which will feature a bit more action and a bit more badass mc (in place of the mostly sad one we've been seeing so far) so you can look forward to that coming soon!! and a super special thank you to my taglist peeps, lemme know if you want to be added to list and subsequently become a Cool Kid™️ @illnevertrustmyselfagain @misschino @youlook-likehell @dany-but-not-targaryen @nyx-goddess-of-choas @fangirl125reader @wordsaremyswords @clowdyblue @tutnotmytea @scentedsope @hope122598 @veronawrites @ayoongiverse @myooniverse @jiminrings @mirahuyooo @cafemyg @lolalee24 @elyte @hyungieyoongi @singukieee @hello-neema @thebadassmotherofmyshotas @kawaii-bear @notsooperfect @mintyoonjisworld @glams00 @thisisnotangel @fangirl-and-stuff @dprssdgal @irony-of-living @hobateas @remmykinsff @gukieater @cherrie11113 @lovra974 @girlwithluv0613 @whatsakilo @yoursoontobestepmom @juju-227592 @zahraaelamira @xyahrinx @belladaises @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lookhere-2seok @imnotokayfuckup @rjsmochii @theealanis @mintsugarmy

#bts #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts fic #bts writing #bts angst #namjoon fic #ot7 fic #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #part ten #edge of tonight

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rainbowsuitcase · 8 months

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Fanfic Rec Friday #1

Linked are the fics and the authors' tumblr or other social media accounts

Coffee Stained Rings by femissamelie - Yoongi x Namjoon, 17 505 words, E - Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Sex

Professor Yoongi is broken up with on Valentine's Day and his waiter Namjoon decides to swoop in.

NamGi Forgotten Fest - bringing back old Namgi prompts that were never made into fics

I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it by @seethegoodinyou - Namjoon X Jungkook, 6 244 words, E - Dom/Sub, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation

Jungkook is a brat and Namjoon knows just the punishment.

BTS Got Kinks? Fest - a spicy mix between a fic fest and a bingo challenge

As if this is the beginning by cloudyvhope - OT7, 13 090 words, T - Band AU, Strangers to Lovers, Jungkook focused

Jungkook responds to an ad of a band looking for a drummer. It's a prank, but everything works out anyway.

Weird. by littlemeowmeow_7 - Yoongi x Taehyung, 2 222 words, G - Rapper x Fan, First Meeting

Taehyung is Yoongi's biggest fan, but when he's presented with a unique opportunity to meet him, the rapper isn't who he was expecting.

high blood drumming by viviviolets - Seokjin x Jimin x Jungkook, 33 073 words, E - Rock Band AU, Enemies to Lovers, Vampire Seokjin, Blood Drinking

Maknae Line's band gets invited to perform at a supernatural bar, where they catch the attention of vampire Seokjin, but not everything is as easy as it seems.

Battle of the Bands 2022 - fest for Band AUs and other music themed fics

To Hurt and To Heal by rinnieluv - Jimin x Jungkook, 40 587 words, E - A/B/O, Implied Mpreg (Jimin has a son), Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse

Omega Jimin is running away from his pack with his son, when he stumbles upon alpha Jungkook's cabin and finds a safe space.

BONUS - Yoongi x Hoseok Twitter AU - 141 parts, Angst and Fluff, Rapper X Youtuber, Secret Relationship

I read a lot more fest fics this week, but I'm trying for a variety here, so I figured I'd save those for later.

What do you think about the formating? Any complaints? Should I keep up the one bonus Twitter AU or no?

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

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Tongue Tied: Masterlist

In which you're not supposed to be the solution for all of the problems- but maybe you're just that; the missing piece.

Main Tags/Warnings: SFW, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader, Wolf!BTS, Dog!Reader, strangers to ???, fluff, some angst, insecurities & very openly emotional reader

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Main Chapters:

Intro

Jungkook (part 1)

Yoongi (part 2)

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Sidecontent:

Hybrid categories summarized

Yoongi drabble 1 (slight angst)

OT7 Drabble (fluff, mention of angst at the end)

Taehyung drabble 1 (slight angst)

Taehyung drabble 2 (slight angst, fluff)

Taehyung drabble 3 (fluff)

OT7 drabble 2 (fluff)

Jungkook drabble 1 (major fluff!)

MC backstory drabble 1 (angst)

MC runs off (angst)

MC spends time with Jungkook and Yoongi (slight angst, Fluff)

MC playing with Jungkook and Yoongi (Fluff)

MC playing in the pool with the tannies (Fluff)

MC being sick (light angst, fluff)

Cuddling with hobi and jk

MC watching Jimin at dance practice (light angst, fluff)

Cooking with jin

Noticing past injuries (angst)

Jungkook and the pack learning more about her past

Open Secret (drabble, angst, fluff)

...

Getting re-evaluated

Character asks:

None

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AU Trivia:

Which category are wolf!BTS?

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #ot7 hybrid fanfic #ot7 hybrid imagine #ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #ot7 imagine #hybrid imagine

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softiejoon · 2 years

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Bangtan Bakery & Bookstore | Series Masterlist

pairing ; namjoon x reader, ot7 x reader (platonic)

genre ; fluff, comedy

tags ; college!au, bookstore bakery!au, head baker!jin, baker!yoongi, bookstore employee!hobi, bookstore manager!namjoon, baker!jimin, bookstore employee!taehyung, baker!jungkook

warnings ; contained in individual parts

summary ; in which y/n falls in love with the local bakery and bookstore, as well as the boys behind the scene

if you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me ☕️

INDEX

i. les miserables

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #bts x y/n #namjoon x you #ot7 fic #bts x you #namjoon x y/n #ot7 x you #bts fluff #namjoon fanfiction #ot7 fluff #ot7 fanfic #bts imagines #bts fanfiction

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jinkookspencil · 7 months

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bts as musicals

simply put, bts as staged musicals i'm familiar with. a very random list and post i wrote up at 3am. it's not to be taken too seriously of course, and this is just my sleep-deprived opinion and take

namjoon - hamilton

i feel this is self explanatory for anyone familiar with both hamilton and nj

hamilton, entirely self written about a self-made man with the weight of the world on his shoulders who needed to prove himself, all while being completely in homage to rap legends through and through

HELLO????

hamilton is also a musical very centered around loss and i can really see that in joon

loss, rap, and the eternal internal struggle!!!

he'd have so much fun with it but it'd wreck him

satisfied especially

also i hate to make this point but when it comes to the hate that these two receive, sometimes it’s clear that it’s really forced hatred

seokjin - hairspray

the ladies choice amiright ladies?

obviously there’s link, the very attractive man who everyone wants

who is hopelessly in love with a plus sized beauty <3333 so jin

jin has often expressed his love of being “unserious” and we all know he can be like that mostly on camera, but he definitely has that more serious side that really is the basis for his character

isn’t that vaguely reminiscent of hairspray too though?

we often think of it as this unserious musical but it actually has more layers than one might remember, discussing prejudice, body image, individuality, self-image, integrity

i think all of those things matter a whole lot to seokjin

yoongi - les miserables

fuck the system

really, all about rebellion and revolution

but also let me break your heart a little

and let me make you remember that you’re actually living life

very similar themes across both yoongi’s solo work and les mis - injustice, class, tragedy, loss, to name a few. while also being so sympathetic towards its varied characters, reminiscent of yoongi’s sensitivity and mindset

shit think of how yoongi might react to 'i dreamed a dream'

hoseok - wicked

I think jack in the box just solidifies this as my pick for hoseok tbh

because there’s the childlike wonder side we all see and know (wizard of oz, j-hope of bts)

but then everything that surrounds it and the real story behind it (wicked, jitb)

both wicked and jitb offer a look into a “character” we think we’re familiar with, but it turns out we really aren’t

when we finally see them tell their story in their own words

elphaba struggles with her “role” and so does hobi, literally spelling it out for us in jitb

they both feel trapped, and thus reclaim and reinvent themselves

It’s a very identity-focused musical/album that still links back to prejudice in our world, too and "where they fit in"

jimin - chicago

sex

chicago is a look into fame/celebrity and corruption and ambition, and i think jimin has quite strong values when it comes to that

to me, it seems as though he finds those topics very interesting to think about

and also, how that all intersects with sexuality and gender

it feels like the crux of what chicago is as a musical but also who jimin presents himself to be

taehyung - west side story

i wanted something that’s a bit of a more classic musical for taehyung, and out of the ones i am familiar with, wss seemed the most fitting (tho i have a sneaky suspicion that one of the ones i am *not* familiar with might be more him)

taehyung is a romantic and, like nj, he almost romanticizes his losses and spends time looking back and reflecting on his own relationships and even his relationship with 'love' as a whole - layover proves it

so of course wss makes sense, the dance numbers, the longing, the risk of it all, the fact that it's story about "the power of love"

i think it'd leave quite the impact on tae, if he hasn't seen it yet

despite being a retelling of romeo & juliet (which tae would LOVE) wss also set the precedent for many musicals to come, much like tae did. looking back, it was very innovative for its time in so many different ways

musically, it's very taehyung. i could see him wanting to do covers of the songs. maria, tonight, and something's coming (he'd always go back to this song)

in every iteration of it, it's also very cinematic and very personal at the same time, which means it is very taehyung

jungkook - grease

I didn’t WANT to pick grease and feed into that stereotypical ‘bad boy jk’ idea

but like i can’t not

and it’s not so much that it is representative of who jk is as a person

except aesthetically (the dazed cover is proof)

but that i can see jungkook himself enjoying the musical numbers and poking fun at john travolta, imitating him in his dance moves

i think he’ll particularly enjoy “you’re the one that i want” and might develop some sort of ‘corruption’ fantasy of turning a good girl bad

this might be me projecting that i want jk to do to me shhhhhhh

oh and he will go through a phase of calling his car “grease lightning” and sing the song every damn time he gets in it

yeah it'd be hard as fuck to get jk to get rid of his john travolta impression

#bts headcanons #bts headcanon #bts fic #bts reaction #bts reactions #ot7 fic #ot7 reactions #ot7 scenario #ot7 #ot7 scenarios #bts ot7 #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts scenarios

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sopejinsunflower · 8 months

Text

2023.001.0019: Jamais Vu

When Jin got up this morning, the first thing he noticed was the way your bedroom door stood ajar, the sun spilling straight into the hallway, pooling on the carpet where Karma, the cat, is lounging.

“I could’ve stepped on you, you know,” Jin mumbles, stepping around the cat who only gazes lazily back at him.

Jin sticks his head into your room, peeking only to check if you’re still sleeping. The sight that greets him makes his eyebrows jump up and almost disappear into his hairline. He retreats back and glances back down at Karma as if the cat has some sort of explanation. He turns back around, tentatively pushes the door wider, and steps in, quietly padding across the room to your desk. He pulls out the chair and sits down, looking at the three entangled bodies sleeping in your bed, albeit over the blanket.

Sitting back in the chair, Jin watches the slow rise and fall of the three chests; you all curl up in between Yoongi and Hoseok, one hand loosely in Hoseok’s hold, head turned towards Yoongi who has one arm lightly over your waist. Jin smirks softly to himself, thinking about how numb Hoseok’s arm would be with your head on it, or how Yoongi will complain about his back since he’s sleeping in a slightly twisted position.

Jin can’t help the smile on his face. It doesn’t surprise him that it’ll be Hoseok and Yoongi first; he kind of expected it, even. This was how it happened that first time and if it follows the same patterns, then Jin thinks he’ll feel less insecure. Despite this, he also can’t quite get rid of that tiny voice in the back of his mind to keep vigilant, to wait for the other shoe to drop because it always does. He wants to keep positive but centuries of hurt and pain doesn’t get fixed just because he feels confident in this cycle. That confidence could be the fall of him.

So Jin resorts to not saying anything to anybody. He’ll keep both his suspicions and hope to himself if it minimises the damage, but for now, he’ll sit back and enjoy the view. He’s curious about what had happened last night for the two to end up here but he’s more focused on the way your eyelids flutter as you dream. He scoots the chair silently closer to the bed. Watching you sleep could be a hobby of his by how much fascination he has right now, wondering about if you’re dreaming of good things.

Yoongi stirs and his eyes slowly blink open. He takes a moment to place himself, looking around the room but more at you in between him and Hoseok. Jin watches as Yoongi places a soft whisper of a kiss on your forehead before proceeding to untangle himself, stopping short when he finally turns around and sees Jin sitting there staring at him.

Jin stretches his philtrum, pressing his lips together, trying to stifle the laugh bubbling out of him. He presses the crook of his elbow to his mouth, leaning sideways as his shoulders shake. Yoongi tries to maintain the annoyed look but the shy smile creeping up on his lips is harder to conceal. He gets up off the bed, lightly pushes at Jin’s chair so he swivels around the opposite direction and leaves the room.

Recovered from his silent cackling, Jin finally stands up and leaves, too, before you or Hoseok wakes up, heading to join Jimin and Taehyung as he hears them go down for breakfast. He’ll let the others know to leave something at breakfast for the two.

Before he walked out the door, Jin made sure to pull the curtains tighter, eliminating the slit of sunshine that was previously on your back.

~~~

It’s warm. Warm and soft.

I open my eyes and the first thing I see is another pair of eyes staring straight back at me. Instantly, I could recognise them as Hoseok, warm and so full of…

I sit up, pushing up on my hand and looking around groggily. The first thing that pops out of my mouth is, “Where’s Yoongi?”

~~~

Hoseok can’t help the smile slowly forming on his lips at the confused look on your face, eyes wide, mouth upturned in a slight pout, hair messy from sleep.

“Downstairs, probably,” he replies softly, smoothing your hair with one hand. “Do you want me to call for him?”

You shake your head but still look at him in an odd way. Hoseok waits patiently for you to say what’s on your mind, unaware that he’s still holding on to your hands, tracing back and forth with his thumb over yours. When a minute passes by and you still haven’t said anything, Hoseok decides to speak first.

~~~

“You had a panic attack last night.”

I look at Hoseok, processing his words, trying to remember back to last night. At first, nothing comes to mind, the memories murky and black, indistinguishable. All I can recall is sitting on the side of the bed, gasping for air until a shadow fell over me and held me close.

Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi’s voice.

You can have us both.

~~~

Hoseok watches you jump as if something had suddenly stung you. You’re blinking rapidly, clearly panicking over something he can’t quite see nor understand.

He grabs ahold of your hand more firmly, squeezing it gently to get your attention. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he soothes, sitting up as well to better get on your eye-level. “Shh, you’re okay.”

He catches your cheeks in both palms, making you look at him and to his surprise, you lean into his touch, eyes closed. Your breathing evens out and you visibly relaxed, shoulders sagging. Without opening your eyes, you whisper out something so breathy Hoseok didn’t catch it the first time. He leans in and asks you to repeat yourself. This time, you blink your eyes open and repeat, “Is it true?”

Hoseok tilts his head, uncomprehending.

Hoseok watches you take a deep breath and for a split second he thinks he knows what you wanted to say before the words even left your lips.

~~~

“I can have you both.”

The sentence comes out as more of a statement than a question and we both sit there in complete silence; me regretting the words immediately and him, staring at me like I’d just grown a second head. I can’t backtrack now and even if I could, what do I even say? I sounded crazy because what does that even mean, if I can have them both?

Hoseok is giving me a stern look now. He readjust his position and move his hands from my face and my stomach drops. But he takes my hands instead and instantly, the butterflies start up again.

Hoseok squares his shoulders and takes a breath. He exhales. “I’m going to ask you some questions. I’m going to be direct about them and you can be honest with me. If you think they are absurd, you can tell me. I just want you to be honest. Okay?”

I lick my lips and nod.

Hoseok nods, too. “Okay. My first question is,” he pauses, visibly hesitating before plunging in, “how do you feel right now, in this moment?”

I take my time to think about it before answering, as honestly as I can, “Safe. I feel…” I look down at my hands in his, “safe.”

Hoseok squeezes my hands, whether it was voluntary or not, I’m not sure. “Safe, okay.” He sounds almost disappointed when he asks, “Only safe?”

I purse my lips, holding back on the actual word, worried that if I do say it, Hoseok will never look at me the same way he’s looking now. But the word bubbled up from the depth of my heart and spilled out in a squeak before I could stop myself anymore: “Loved.”

I was right; Hoseok does change the way he looked at me, but in the complete opposite of what I had thought. His eyes glistened, he smiled from ear to ear, his lips quiver ever so slightly. He chuckles wetly, shoving his face into his arm to wipe at his eyes. “Okay, next question.”

~~~

“How do you feel when you’re with us?”

Hoseok remains vigilant of your body language, keeping an eye on your eyes, on your face, and the way your fingers are wrapped around his. He pays attention to any subtle changes because the second question may feel a little too soon. Maybe he should rephrase it, ask about Yoongi instead but the question is already out and he can’t take it back.

“The same,” you answer quietly. “It’s odd and makes no sense but…I told this to Jin before. That it didn’t make sense to feel so at ease with seven men who are supposed to be strangers. But I do. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Something catches Hoseok’s attention at the bedroom door and he looks up.

~~~

Hoseok looks up over my head at something and I turn around to find Yoongi standing in the doorway. He has a tray of food in his hands.

He must have seen the look on my face because he comes right in, places the tray on the desk and sits on the edge of the bed. There’s genuine worry on his face as he leans over and places the back of his hand against my forehead.

I let out a giggle.

~~~

Hoseok watches you giggle as Yoongi takes your temperature with the back of his hand. You do look red in the face and with the wetness in your eyes, it’s easy to see it as you coming down with something.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, your voice soft.

Yoongi glances over at Hoseok, a flitting question exchanging between them in that one look and Yoongi situates himself more firmly on the bed. “Darling, you had a panic attack last night,” he says carefully, “Do you remember what triggered it?”

Hoseok thought that the question was a risky one, something that could make you shut down again when he had already managed to get a half-confession from you. But he held his tongue because the fact that he himself didn’t think to ask first felt like he had put his wants above your needs and there has never been anything more further from the truth.

Yoongi returns your gaze, eyes never wavering from the intense look you’re giving him which only peaks his curiosity. What had thrown you so off the edge last night for him to find you almost catatonic, barely breathing right? If he knows what it is, maybe he can help alleviate it. He’s done it countless times before, fighting your demons for you because that’s what he’s good at.

“You,” you simply say.

Yoongi arches his eyebrows. “Me?”

You only nod your head in affirmation.

Well, now Yoongi has to think about how to fight himself.

~~~

At the pained look on Yoongi’s face, I hurry to add an explanation.

“I had a dream,” I start, hesitant because I don’t know how to explain the dream to make it make sense. “About you. And me.”

“I see. Did something bad happen in the dream?” Yoongi asks.

I bite on my lower lip. “No, nothing bad. But…”

“But what, honey?”

My heart does a little flutter at the pet name. I feel a little more confident now to continue. “But it just didn’t feel like a dream. It felt…real.”

“Real how?”

It’s Hoseok this time and I turn my head around to look at him. “It’s hard to explain. It felt like…like I was there, physically, in the dream. I could feel Yoongi’s hands on me. I could feel…” I hesitate, hearing how crazy the words sound. “I could even feel his breath on me, the emotions I was feeling in the moment. It was almost like a-”

~~~

“Memory,” Yoongi and Hoseok finish for you, simultaneously.

You stare at Hoseok, confused, before starting to chuckle. “How can it be a memory when it hasn’t ever happened yet? Or did I get amnesia or something and we’ve actually known each other longer than I thought? Did I forget you?”

You laugh harder, shaking your head. “That’s a soap opera, guys. It was weird but this is not a telenovela.” But you’re staring off out the window, your forehead creasing.

Hoseok’s heart, once again, dropped to the bottom of his feet. One step forward, two steps back; and he really thought you were making progress. He guesses he had been too impatient, too greedy. He looks briefly at Yoongi who easily takes charge.

“And that triggered you into a panic attack?” he asks gently.

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess. That’s all I remember, honestly. Before you came.”

Yoongi nods solemnly as if he understands it all and Hoseok gives up on the rest of the questions he has for you. You’re not ready and he wouldn’t push you.

There’s a moment of silence and Hoseok is sure the conversation is finished. He’s actually getting hungry and maybe you both need food and he’ll revisit the topic another time.

“You said I can have you both,” you suddenly whisper. “You said I didn’t have to choose between you and Hoseok, that you were madly in love with me and so was Hoseok. That I was madly in love with you, too.” You turn to look back at Hoseok, eyes wide and scared. “Madly in love with the both of you.”

You turn back to Yoongi. “It’s crazy because it felt so real.” You pause, frowning at a spot on the bed sheet. “So real. Like a memory. Who has that kind of dream?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and scoots closer on the bed. “Have you been feeling a lot like that lately?”

You nod. “That night with Jungkook was the strongest. The night he last told me the story.” You turn to Hoseok. “I asked him to, to distract me. I was feeling so overwhelmed.”

A tinge of guilt flicks at Hoseok’s heart. He had been so angry at Jungkook that night but the lad had broken down at the end of the night, convinced that something was happening with you and happening too fast. Now, he regrets not listening to the youngest because as much as they’re scared of scaring you away, they can’t stop the natural phenomenon of you figuring things out yourself, no matter the pace. The only thing Hoseok hopes to do is soften the blow but he’s starting to realise that softening the blow could mean that they’d have to come clean first.

“Hoseok,” you call.

~~~

Hoseok lifts his head, the scowl still on his face.

“Hoseok,” I say, “why is it so bad for Jungkook to tell me that story? Why do you always get so angry at him when he does?”

“I don’t get angry at him,” says Hoseok, defensively. At the withering look I give him, he concedes, sighing. “I’m not angry. I don’t get angry at him, I just…It’s just that the story is…Well, the story is just difficult. Complicated.”

I frown. “You think I can’t handle a story?”

Yoongi taps my knee to get my attention. “Do you like that story that much? Jungkook has tons of other stories he can tell you. Just ask him.”

Irritated, I snap back. “I don’t want other stories. Seriously, what’s wrong with that one? Why are you so-”

Something hit me then, a realisation that halts my speech, dawning on me like a bucket of ice someone dumped over my head. I freeze, my mind focused on that idea and that idea alone. I look back at Hoseok. “The story’s real, isn’t it? It’s not just a story, is it?”

Yoongi and Hoseok exchange looks and that’s as close to an affirmation as I can get. “Whose story is it?” I look from Hoseok to Yoongi then back again. “Tell me.” My voice grows harder, louder.

“Maybe now’s not the time to get into it,” Hoseok starts to say but I shake my head and pull my hands out of his constant hold.

“No. Tell me, please. Whose story is it?” I repeat, backing away on the mattress.

Hoseok only looks at me pleadingly. “I will but-”

“No buts!” I lash out. “Please, just tell me what is going on. What are you hiding from me?”

~~~

There it is, the unravelling. You’ve finally seen the thread of lies and are now pulling at it, slowly.

Hoseok tries again. “We’re not hiding anything from you. You’ll find out in time. I-” He’s reaching out to you, wanting to hold your hand again but you’re moving away. He’s desperate now.

“What is it you don’t want me to know?” you push, struggling to climb down from the bed. “What is it about the story you’re trying to keep from me?”

Hoseok opens his mouth but the words are lost on him. He doesn’t actually know what to say, fumbling to find the best way to calm you down. You’re standing now at the edge of the bed, just a few feet away from him yet it feels like you might as well be on the other side of the planet. You’re too far away. He just wants you back in his arms. Just moments ago he managed to make you acknowledge your true feelings for them, for him, and yet here you are now, distrustful, irritated, and looking at him accusatorily.

“We’re not keeping anything from you.” Yoongi’s voice reaches Hoseok’s ears, much more stable and stronger than his own. “There are things you just need time to learn for yourself. We’re just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

~~~

Yoongi’s jaw ticks but he doesn’t answer me.

“Protect me from what?” I repeat through gritted teeth.

It’s honestly getting so annoying. The way they’re treating me is as if I’m a child that needs to be shielded from the world. Do they think so little of me? Have they been taking me for a fool all this time, tiptoeing around me like I’m some kind of fragile glass? I can handle the truth. I’ve dealt with worse. I wanted to scream these things to them but a part of me just can’t get that angry at them.

There’s a voice deep inside telling me to just listen, to just trust but how do I do that now when it’s clear they haven’t been fully transparent either. Trust has to work both ways.

“Y/n.”

I whip my head around towards the bedroom door and see Jungkook standing there, a dark look on his face. I’ve never seen him so serious before and the look in his eyes demands that I listen. He’s younger than me, has always felt more like a younger brother to me, too, but right now, he commands such a strong aura I forget all about the tiny details. When did he become so big and tall?

“I will finish the story by the end of this week. Sunday night, when the moon is full.” The playful Jungkook isn’t there right now. He has a very deep, solemn voice, eyes never leaving mine. I can see the broiling emotions in them, such intensity it feels like I’m growing smaller in his gaze, towering over me with such authority. “We will answer all the questions that you have after that. Any and all questions, we will explain it all. But,” he pauses, flicking his gaze over to Hoseok and Yoongi.

“But?” I ask hesitantly, my voice coming out dry.

Jungkook looks back at me. “But,” he says, stepping closer, “on one condition.”

I don’t prod, waiting because I know he will say it.

“You have to spend the days leading up to Sunday with us,” he finishes.

I let out a wry chuckle, rolling my eyes. “I already am. We live together.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, not like that.”

He takes another step closer and then another until he’s standing right in front of me, until I have to tilt my head to look up at him. With one finger, he traces the side of my face and along my jaw; my skin tingling with electricity, my heart thumping. “You have to be open to every feeling, every emotion, everything your heart tells you. You have to be open to that little voice in your head. You have to be open to us.”

I swallow tightly. “Meaning?”

Jungkook drops his hand. “You’ll understand it soon enough.”

I search his eyes, looking for any hint that he was just messing with me, that he’s going to step back and laugh and tease about the look on my face. But he doesn’t. And deep down, I already know this. Deep down, I know what he’s telling me, know what he meant exactly but I just can’t bring myself to admit it. It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense.

“It won’t make sense now,” I hear Hoseok say from behind me and I turn around so fast to face him, surprised that he had read my mind. “But it will later. I promise.”

Yoongi gets off the bed, standing there and rubbing the back of his neck. “Just trust us.”

“Trust us,” Jungkook echoes more firmly.

I look from Jungkook to Yoongi and to Hoseok still on the bed.

Chalk it up to Jungkook sounding convincing, or that I just wanted them out of the room, or that I do actually have a soft spot for them. Chalk it up to me just withering under Jungkook’s gaze, or that I just want the conversation to end, or that I actually do believe them. I’ll tell myself that I just didn’t want to argue, or that I just want to leave the room, or that, in fact, that little voice Jungkook mentioned was actually telling me that trusting them will be the first step, the first jigsaw piece to fall in place and the rest will follow.

Chalk it up to just, for a brief second, I want for it all to be as easy as Jungkook said it could be, so I nod my head slowly. “Okay,” I breathe out. “But.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow lifts, waiting.

“But you have to trust me, too,” I say, my voice coming out softer, lighter than usual. “You have to trust that I can handle whatever it is you think I can’t.”

Jungkook looks up at Hoseok who flits his worried gaze to Yoongi. The three of them nod.

---

“The real thing is finally beginning.”

The figure in the white robe moves around the basin as if the view of whatever it’s looking at would change with the angle. It doesn’t. The second figure tilts its head.

“Something feels oddly familiar, no?”

A Cheshire grin spreads over the first figure’s face.

---

The next day, early in the morning, I wake up before everyone else. The house is quiet; no sound, no movement, no smell of breakfast when the sun is barely up.

I get dressed and softly padded downstairs and out of the house through the back door. The sky is alight but the sun still hasn’t fully risen over the trees; the kind of mornings when it’s just silent and misty, morning dews still sticking to the grass and leaves, transferring to my jeans as I walk down to the stream.

I don’t know why I came here. I just needed to get out of the house, out of the four walls that feels more like an enclosure rather than the place I was excited to come live in just a few months ago, back when everything feels like a fresh start. I twist around to look back at the house, noting that all of the windows on the second floor, minus my own, have the curtains drawn shut. Good. That’ll just give me a few moments to myself, to sort out my own thoughts.

I sit on the rock I usually perch on and pull up my legs to hug my knees. The sound of the water trickling down the stream is calming and every breath of the crisp morning air is refreshing. I take in a deep breath. I’m not a morning person but I absolutely love mornings like this, when everything is still slumbering away, when even the birds haven’t woken up yet.

I think about the conversation I had with Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok yesterday, about the promise Jungkook made and the condition that came with it. It’s a simple request, nothing extraordinary, yet I couldn’t shake the looming dread that seems to sit heavily in the hollow of my chest. It’s like that feeling of going to the beach on a fine day and having this notion that a storm might just roll in out of the blue even when the sky is perfectly clear. It’s unlikely because the weather reports say it’s a fine day, the day itself is perfect, not a cloud in sight and yet, deep down, you just know it’s going to take a turn for the worst.

Why, I don’t know and that’s the aspect I’ve been trying to deal with. Why is it that after the story is finished, I would feel like the world would just end? It’s just a story, a story that I had, before yesterday, been dying to hear the end of. A story that gave me a sense of calmness and familiarity but there was nothing that connected me to it. Hoseok said the story is complicated but I’ve yet to hear anything that puts it as anything but a typical love story, albeit the polyamorous aspect of it, assuming from the title itself. Not to forget that it’s actually a real story, real encounters.

And Yoongi mentioned about protecting me. It sounded ominous, like something about the story will hurt me, destroy me. Like the story will reveal a truth that will absolutely flip my world upside down. I scoff at that last thought. My world has been flipped upside down, multiple times over. Whatever he thinks might be destroyed after has already been wrecked. You can’t make worse of a broken mirror.

I press my forehead against my knees. Jungkook’s condition is simple; to spend the days leading up to the storytime as openly as I can with them. I tell him I don’t know what it means but at the bottom of my heart, I know exactly what he meant. Had he known, too, all this time? Had they all? When they call me by the pet names and I don’t oppose, did they know? When they hold my hand and I never pull away, did they know? In every smile, every laugh, every word exchange between us, had they always known that I was and am-

No, I’m not. I can’t be. I’m just comfortable with them, enjoy their presence. They are sweet and kind, warm and caring. Nothing like the people I left behind.

A rustling in the grass brings up my head from my knees, turning around but not seeing anybody approaching. It’s not when I look down to see the double tails of Karma languidly swishing from side to side that my heart slows down.

“Seriously,” I chastise him, “you should really be louder.” I pat the spot next to me and he jumps up. I stroke his head a few times, making sure to scratch him behind the ears, his favourite spots. “How do you always manage to find me?”

Karma looks up at me, eyes imploring something I wish I could understand. The sky is looking more golden now as the sun slowly rises and the birds all around are starting to chirp, softly as if they had just woken up. Karma purrs, attention stolen by a sudden chirp from a nearby tree, eyes focused on something in the leaves. He jumps down and stalks off in the direction.

“Leave the bird alone, Karma!” I called after him but he had disappeared in the grass. I roll my eyes. Petulant child.

My eyes are drawn back to the house, looking up at the row of windows on the second floor. All of them are just as they were earlier, except for one; Namjoon stands in front of his window looking down in my direction. Our eyes meet (or it feels like they did at this distance) and he raises a hand in a wave. He then disappears back into his room and I have a strong feeling I’d see him coming down the yard soon.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Namjoon is jogging down towards me, still in what he wore to bed, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. His dark hair is tousled and I chuckle to myself at the thought that he didn’t even bother to brush out his hair first.

“Good morning,” he croaks out in that morning voice, deep and gravelly.

“Morning,” I greet back. “You’re up early.”

He nods, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He squats down next to the stream and dips his hand into the water. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he hisses and I laugh. He does again, this time cupping water to wash his face.

“You could’ve done that upstairs in the bathroom,” I laugh.

“Forgot,” he grunts back, finishing and coming back over to me. He doesn’t even wait for me to move before plopping down next to me and sighing heavily. He stares off into the distance.

“Why are you here?” I ask, genuinely curious since it’s taking him such great effort to wake up. I have this strong urge to run my hand through his hair, gently combing it out. I grip my own arms tighter.

“‘Cause you’re here.”

I give him an incredulous look but he’s looking at a spot in the stream, eyes unfocused. “That doesn’t matter. You didn’t have to come.”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to.”

“It’s early, Joonie. You can go back to bed.”

He finally looks at me. “Only if you come with me.”

I stare at him.

He stares back before his brain finally reboots properly and backpedals, “As in back to your room. Not- you don’t look like you had much sleep, either.”

Still smirking, I heave a sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

We remain in silence for the rest of the time, listening to the babbling of the stream and the birds finally getting noisy around us. We remain unspeaking even when we see Karma climb down from a tree, licking his lips and struts back to the house. We remain quiet even when our backs are finally warm from the sun and Mrs Oliviera has to holler from the back door to announce breakfast is ready.

Is this what Jungkook meant to be open? If it is, then I guess it’s not so bad after all, I think, as my head rests against Namjoon’s strong shoulder, something that naturally happens somehow in between the silent hours that passed.

***

I stare at the piece of paper Jungkook handed to me.

“What is this?”

“It’s a schedule,” he answers, pointing to the title in big, bold letters on the top. “See?”

I frown, holding out the paper to him. “It’s just days and your names on it. What kind of schedule is that?”

Taehyung laughs, coming over to see. “I got the first day! Monday!”

“Yes,” says Jungkook, replying to you. “I told you, you’ll have to spend the days with us leading up to Sunday when I tell you the full story of the Eight Lovers. The schedule is to give us equal time with you.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously? Why can’t it just be more natural? This is so weird.” I wave the paper over my head before Jin plucks it out of my hand.

Chuckling, Jin passes the schedule back to Jungkook. “I have to agree, kid. It’ll feel forced.”

Jungkook exaggerated a pout. “Fine. I put a lot of effort into it though.” He takes the paper and carefully folds it into a small square, stuffing it into his pocket. He sits down but his bottom lip still juts out.

I pat him on the knee. “Nice handwriting though, Kookie. But no schedule, thanks.” I look around the room, suddenly feeling awkward. “So, um, what do you suggest we do first?”

“As a team or as a couple?” Taehyung asks nonchalantly.

~~~

Jin watches your eyes widen at the question and he wants to tease you so bad for it but Jimin beats him to the punch.

“I want it as a couple,” Jimin says cheekily, leaning into your face as he grabs a handful of nuts in the bowl next to you before moving away. You blush, looking away to hide it from Jimin but Jin sees it clear as day. He catches your eye and smiles knowingly, laughing at the defeated pout on your lips.

To be honest, Jin’s stomach is unsettled right from the moment he was told of the week’s plan. It’s not that he’s not happy about it, he is, very much so. But this nagging feeling is worming through his nervous system and he just can’t shake it off. The picture of a thunderstorm cloud in the distance is stuck in his head and no matter how much he tries to tell himself it’ll be okay, the more dread fills his heart.

“Let’s just do what we always do,” Namjoon says from the corner of the room where he’s sitting with a book. “Just don’t think about any of this.”

You grimace. “The more you tell me not to, the more I will.”

Yoongi enters the room with two mugs of steaming tea. He casually passes over one to you and he takes a seat across from you. He blows over his mug, eyes on you, watching the way you nervously chew on your lips and wondering if you even notice what you’re doing as you fidget with a loose thread of the sofa, your legs under you. It takes him back to a time when he would have been sitting next to you instead, one arm around your shoulders.

Yoongi remembers that time well, back when the wonders of medicine hadn’t really reached their part of the world yet. The winter cold had seeped into the room through a crack in the window he had been meaning to fix for a long time now, your legs huddled under you for warmth. He had pulled you close against his front, sharing body warmth as Jimin had gone upstairs to retrieve a blanket.

You had been chewing on your lip as you are doing now, your hair covering your face as you looked down. Yoongi had squeezed your shoulder, earning a turn of your head and a weak smile. He kissed your temple, his other hand wrapping around your extended belly.

That time, centuries ago, he had assured you that everything will be okay, pretending that his heart wasn’t weighing heavily on his stomach, just like right now as he watches you across from him. Your eyes meet his and he smiles reassuringly as he always does, hoping that you get his message, telling you it’ll all be alright, something he hopes wouldn’t count as a lie. But that memory in time hadn’t ended so well and he dreads that it would be the same this time, too.

The seven of them watch you take a deep breath, sitting up straight and looking around the room. You exhale slowly and with that, a slow smile carves on your face. There’s a sort of acceptance in your eyes, a clarity none of them has seen before. You nod your head a little and Namjoon wonders what you are telling yourself.

And just like that, without a word, you just naturally inserted yourself into Jimin and Jungkook’s conversation, sliding down onto the floor to get on the same level with the boys, bumping knees with Jimin but not minding that they’re touching.

For a moment, Hoseok feels slightly at ease, relaxing in his seat, ignoring the banter between Jimin and Jungkook, focusing on you, on how you laugh and the way your eyes squeezed shut. For now, he’ll pretend he didn’t see the look on Jin’s and Yoongi’s faces, that he didn’t notice the flicker of fear in their eyes nor the foreboding feeling creeping up his back.

For now, he’ll just be happy and entertain the idea that they are on the road to normal, if normal even applies. All he knows is that he won’t have to hold back any longer, that he doesn’t have to hide how much it hurts not having you in close proximity. You’re here, with them, and that’s all that matters.

a/n: Wow, I haven't updated in so long. I...seriously have no excuse except that I haven't had the same amount of time to write as I use to. When I do have free time, I just want to rest without doing anything T_T please I need motivation to write T_T i have a kookie one halfway written when Seven came out and now Layover is here i just- drfrfncsdjcbegb *slaps self*

Next: coming soon!

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cyphergalore · 1 year

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Idol - Anyone but you ~ Jeon Jungkook - TEASER

‎₊˚‧૮⍝◠ ·̫ ◠⍝ა ·˚₊ ♡ hi everyone, nice to meet you!I’m a “Swan” a new writer on tumblr and I decided to give fic writing a try again! I haven’t done it for a good few years so please be kind to me!!! I’m so excited to introduce my first new series on here called “Idol” There will be a focus on each series for each member so don’t worry if you wanted one for your bias. For example;

“Idol - Anyone but you” will be focused on Jeon Jungkook

“Idol - Midnights in Paris” will be focused on Kim Taehyung

“Idol - Are you falling in love yet?” will be focused on Park Jimin

“Idol - Dirty dancing” will be focused on Jung Hoseok (J-hope)

“Idol - If we ever meet again” will be focused on Min Yoongi (Suga)

“Idol - Unspoken thoughts” will be focused on Kim Namjoon (RM)

and finally, “Idol - Under the moonlight” will be focused on Kim Seokjin (Jin)

Please do not worry about having to go through reading them in order to avoid missing out on pieces!!! There will be some references to certain things or parts but won’t be of any importance and I will just have it re-written as a flashback :) Yes it will be focused on one character but will be “Y/N” throughout the entire series however, whatever happens at the end of one fic does not exist in another member’s fic. For example, if they fell in love, there would not be any existence of that in another member’s series.

Now it’s time to introduce what the personality of “Y/N” the Idol is like and backstory before we get into it!

Idol will have the pronouns she/her (sorry I hope that’s ok!)

Y/N also considered as the western music industry’s “it girl” rapidly on the rise, collecting awards left and right for her extremely hardworking talent. Known for her insane duality on stage for being intimidating yet sensual, and we’re not talking about any sexual dances as she prefers to give off the sex symbol aura without doing much effort. Loves to mock male artists and banters about their actions. Obsessed with hip hop dancing or anything that makes her challenge the stereotypes of being a female artist, especially to prove a point against the issues of poc artists being over sexualised. Very much a bisexual woman of colour or can imagine her how you would like (if you’re homophobic or a misogynist or racist, then this fic definitely is NOT for you lmao oops) Always in relaxed clothing as her artist image. Fans are very funny and feisty and loyal, everyone is in love (and I mean hella heart eyes) with her because they are captivated by her duality and powerful aura. Think “the Park Jimin effect” but as a female. Offstage, towards strangers she is very introverted. Does not talk a lot, people are drawn to her thinking she is mysterious, intimidating and a bad bitch when in reality she’s just socially awkward lmao. Once off stage and off cameras, that confidence yeets itself out somewhere else. However if she’s with someone or people she is comfortable around, she is completely normal, feisty and banters a lot. Sometimes will either hate affection or seem cold (when her social battery drains) towards friends or be very affectionate and energetic to them, no in between. Around her fans, she is always very soft and humorous, sassy and extremely affectionate/loving and caring towards them. Is an Army! Have been for a good 5 years and Jungkook was actually the one to have first discovered her from BTS when she was just starting out as an artist. Guess you could say it was love at first sight and he became obsessed with watching her everyday vlogs, music videos, shows, first one to listen to her music as soon as it comes out and much more. Let’s just say he is as obsessed as how army is with BTS towards her at this point. It stemmed from his love for army, he thought it was just going to be a situation where he would be proud of seeing an army take inspiration from BTS and apply it to their life/career and then move on but of course, keep it in his heart. Nope, ever since he proudly praised her and posted one of her first songs on his instagram story, he had been hooked on her work ever since. It went from checking up monthly if he had the free time to, weekly to everyday regardless of if he had free time or not. Since then, he was refused by staff to acknowledge her again publicly before it caused trouble and stirred up any dating rumours. Sometimes it didn’t stop him from adding a harmless “like” on a few of her music posts especially if it was BTS related or her fans updating her chart data and achievements. Or his favourite time was to watch her live videos on instagram where only she could see if he has joined or not. They had met once in person at an awards show and it didn’t go well since Jungkook had became too shy to talk, that doesn’t stop them from speaking online all the time though and from being friends privately. Warnings: swearing, fuckboy!Jk, jungkook is a player but so is Y/N lol, Angst, Fluff, Smut 18+ in future chapters, minors do not interact! Jungkook x reader, jungkook x reader smut, idol!character Obsessed!jungkook but not harmful type obsessed lmao, Depression, Anxiety, NSFW and will add more warnings along future chapters ok idk let’s start the series shall we??? Any questions feel free to ask me :)

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wwilloww · 2 years

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sh. | chapter twenty | ot7

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 2.6k WARNINGS AND TAGS conversations about mental health.

AN This chapter is dedicated to my incredible writing group, who took the time and energy to share with me what they’ve been through these last two years of pandemic. It’s also dedicated to anyone and everyone who has experienced deep loss, grief, and struggle during these times. I began writing this story as a way out of the loneliness and isolation I felt living alone during a pandemic, but it’s become so much more to me. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story for so long. And thank you to @hobi-gif and @hesperantha for helping me so much with this chapter. Y'all are the best.

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CHAPTER TWENTY: ROUND THE FIRE

The fire crackles, light flickering across the planes of your seven friends’ faces as they stare back at you with differing looks of quiet understanding, shock, and sadness.

Slowly, you pick over your words, trying to tell them what you had told Hoseok earlier. Then, at the edge of the cliff, it had come pouring out of you. Now, it’s a jutted and staggered mess. But you get the words out anyways.

Hoseok reaches over and squeezes your hand as you fall into silence.

“I wanted to tell you,” you say, clearing your throat to ease the ball that’s quickly forming there, “because I trust you and because as things are changing—as I’m changing—I just want you to know. It’s important for me, for you to know.”

They stare back at you and for a moment you’re unsure if anyone is going to say anything.

“Thank you for sharing that with us, we know that’s not easy to share,” Jin says softly. Maybe a little too softly. It makes you wince, thinking that he might pity you.

“I—I don’t want any kind of babying or treating me like I’m all fragile-like because I’ve shared this,” you say sternly. “I’m not breaking—I’m not broken, I’m just… I’ve had things that I struggled with.”

“If anything it makes you stronger in my eyes,” Yoongi says. “More human.”

Everyone nods.

“We all have our moments. Our struggles,” Namjoon says. “And you’re nothing less of a person for having been through that.”

“I mean, I’ve been there too,” Yoongi says, his voice ringing out across the fire. Your gaze flicks up to him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I know I shared that I was writing porn over quarantine—”

“What the hell does porn have to do with any of this?” Taehyung says, a chuckle in his voice.

“Shhh,” hushes Yoongi. “Shut your pie hole and you might find out.” Taehyung quiets and nods. Yoongi continues. “So you all know I was writing porn.” He’s mentioned it more than once, that’s for sure. “But I don’t think I really told you all how I got into it.” Everyone shakes their head. “My therapist told me I should.”

“Is that… ethical?” you ask.

“Well. She didn’t tell me I should write porn, per say.” A round of ahhhs and ohhhs echo around the fire. “I wasn’t doing well at the beginning of quarantine either. I um, had lost a close relationship unexpectedly—” His gaze flickers to you. “And I lost my job—”

“What?”

“Uh yeah. I lost my job.”

Yoongi had never mentioned that to you, let alone to anyone in the group it seems, based on the way everyone in the circle is looking at him with varying levels of shock and awe. He’d worked for a label, producing music for smaller artists. It was his dream job, something that he poured his entire self into, often going above and beyond the job requirements to support the artists he was creating for. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Namjoon says, leaning forward, but Yoongi brushes him off.

“Either way… I wasn’t sleeping. I’d just wander through the day like a ghost. My therapist told me that since it wasn’t really possible to quote unquote ‘get out there,’ that I should sit down and write, write in a way that took my agency back, and let me live the life I wanted to live. Even if it was just on the page.”

“So you wrote porn?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“That’s not what it started out as. It started out as a way of reclaiming my relationships. Making peace with them. And then… um, yeah. Sex was a part of that too.”

The group nods understandingly.

“I dunno. I started and at first I had nothing to say. It was like my voice had dried up. I had nothing left in me. But I gave it time and space and one day it just came pouring out of me. There was a lot there to uncover. A lot of what felt like brokenness. But it didn’t feel so broken once it was on the page.”

“So you’re saying you wrote emo-as-fuck porn,” Jungkook says. “I could be into that.”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans. “I’m trying to be serious here and all I’m getting back from you is an obsession about my porn.”

“To speak on everyone’s behalf—We’re just saying that if you’re not opposed, we would love to read your porn,” Taehyung says. “Trying to express our support in your industry.”

A chuckle rounds the circle but soon everyone is falling into a soft silence.

“I stopped sleeping too,” Namjoon chimes in. “At first it was just going to bed later and later, and then at some point, I was saying goodnight and the next thing I knew, the sun was rising over the city and everyone was waking up.” He takes a deep breath. “It felt like my body wasn’t mine anymore.”

“On top of that,” Namjoon continues. “I was so cramped up in the same goddamn space—” He looks at you then. “A great space, with a great roommate, but how many times can you pace a living room before you go insane?” He slumps forward onto his elbows like he’s carrying a great weight. Though, now that you think of it, throughout the pandemic he had carried a great weight. He had carried you. He had carried the friend group too, starting chats and arranging video calls and checking in on everyone to make sure everyone was okay. You’d never considered until now the toll it took on him. Despite his best efforts to make the work he did to support your friend group look like nothing, you can see the wear on his face now. “I lost my direction,” he whispers. “I have no idea where I’m going.”

There’s a long, far-off look in his eyes like he’s staring off over some distant icy tundra, a wind you can’t hear howling in his ears. And then something shifts in his gaze, and he comes back to you, to the group. He presses a smile to his lips, one of those stiff ones that you know too well. It’s the one he wears for the sake of other people, even when he’s feeling like an ice block on the inside.

“But being out here—I think I have that space again. To think. To process.”

He’s right. There is something special about this space. As the physical space around you expanded, so did your own inner world. You hadn’t felt like you could breathe in the city. But out here, all there is is air.

“I had a whole crisis too,” Jungkook says quickly, as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t get it out now he never will. All eyes turn to him. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve talked about this with any of you, actually.”

“Talked about what?” Taehyung asks, leaning over to squeeze Jungkook’s thigh.

You hadn’t meant this to turn into an unloading session, but as you look around at your friends, you realize that this is what has been missing. All along, ever since you arrived up in the mountains, the group had been pretending that nothing at all has changed. Everything has changed.

“You know how I, uh, told you all I was straight. How I insisted I was straight?”

Looking around at everyone in the circle, it’s clear that everyone is thinking back to how Jungkook had fucked Taehyung into the ground—into you—like it was his job. But you all nod, a couple “Uh-huhs,” echoing around the fire.

“Well. I’ll admit that the beginning of quarantine was a weird, weird time. It all started right before everything came crashing down. Actually, the night before the quarantine announcement came out, I was partying and ended up making out with a total stranger. And maybe grinding a little. And also maybe they put their hand down my pants.”

“Jungkook!” Jimin gasps.

“Oh like you’re one to talk,” Jungkook says. “Mr. I Fuck Strangers in Club Bathrooms.”

Jimin flushes.

“Anyways. They—um—he was a very handsome stranger. We texted through the first part of quarantine. And that’s when I realized that flirting, was, well, flirting. And kissing was well, kissing. And now butt stuff is just butt stuff? I kept waiting for it to feel different. I went a little crazy waiting. Thinking that I was making it all up. I hated myself. I hated that I might be just doing it for attention.”

“But you weren’t,” Jimin says. “Were you?”

“No. No, it wasn’t just for attention,” Jungkook says softly, hanging his head.

“You could have talked to us,” you say. “We could have been there for you.”

“But you all are like, legitimately, not-straight, in all of your different ways. How was I supposed to compare to all of you when all I had was some sloppy make out in a club to go off of?”

“Jungkook—” you cut in. “You can’t think like that. That’s not how this works. You have to know, there’s not a right way to do this.”

“I think I keep trying to be an idea of myself. Like a stationary point on a map that doesn’t even exist. But I can’t always be the same, I can’t expect myself to be the person I was yesterday. But thank you. Thank you, guys. I really appreciate the kind words.”

“Taehyung and I almost broke up,” Jin blurts. Eyebrows shoot up all over the circle.

“What?”

“Are you serious?”

“But you guys are so strong together.”

Taehyung and Jin glance at one another.

“There was a point in time when we didn’t know who or what we were if we couldn’t see each other. It was like doing long distance but with a bunch of communal trauma on top of it and no end in sight,” Taehyung says. “And there was that one fight—”

But a glare from Jin silences Taehyung, leaving any speculation of what had gone down between the two of them to the privacy of their relationship.

“Nevermind.”

“And now?” you ask.

“We talked it through,” Taehyung says. “Actually, we did a lot of talking. That was really the only thing we could do for six months straight.”

“You make it sound all pretty and easy,” Jin laughs. “But it was hard. I thought I was going to lose him.”

A ball wells up in your throat as you look around the fire at your friends. At one point or another you had thought you were going to lose them. To distance. To the danger. At one point or another you had thought you were going to lose yourself. You clench your jaw, sniffling, and balling the blanket around you tighter, your knuckles turning white with the effort.

“Namjoon, what you said earlier, about not knowing where you are, what direction you’re going in—“ Hoseok clears his throat. Adjusts his jacket before continuing. “I walked into quarantine thinking that we were getting two weeks off from obligations. And I walked out—well, I guess no one has walked out yet. We’re still walking right in the middle of it all. But I found, like, an empty space where I was supposed to be. Like, when I looked inside it felt like there was nothing there. And I have no idea what to do with that. No idea.”

Namjoon leans over and squeezes Hoseok’s thigh.

“I get it.”

That’s when you glance over at Jimin and watch as his eyes sparkle in the light of the fire. Tears, welling up in his eyes. You don’t hesitate before standing and walking over to him. But Hoseok beats you to it, kneeling before him and taking his hand. You settle at Hoseok’s back, a hand on his shoulder, concerned gaze set on Jimin.

“Jiminie?” Hoseok whispers. “What’s going through your head?”

He shakes his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asks.

Jimin shakes his head again.

“This is a good space to talk about it,” Jungkook says. “It felt good to talk about it.”

“It’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk,” Hoseok says to Jungkook. And then, turning back to Jimin: “You don’t have to talk about it. But I do need you to know that no matter what happened, we’re here for you. That we love you. That no matter what it is that’s happened, you’re so important to us.” The others have begun to gather around you. Jungkook puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, Taehyung squeezes his other hand.

Hoseok says he doesn’t know who he is, but as you watch him brush a tear away from Jimin’s eye with a slow, tender thumb, it feels like a part of himself is remembered. The part of him that was ever-connected to his friends, watching their drinks at the bar while they went off to dance, picking them up in the middle of the night, no questions asked, cradling you in his arms when you’d broken up with Taehyung (and keeping his promise to never talk about that night again when you’d asked). While Namjoon had always been the large and broad center of your friend group, Hoseok had been the quiet glue that stretched and moved between you all and worked to hold you together. You realize, that’s what has been different about him since coming to the house. He’d been holding back. Maybe, you wonder, the part of him that was missing, after all, was you all.

Jimin chuckles through his tears. “You’re so sappy.”

“Let me be sappy!” Hoesok scolds gently. “Let me be sappy for you.” He leans into Jimin and wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist. Hoisting him to his feet, Hoseok cradles him in a hug. You think you hear a mumbled, “I’m so sorry about earlier.” The rest of your friends join around you, wrapping Jimin in the middle, arms intertwining, faces pressed close together.

You can feel the weight of everything that’s been shared tonight hanging over the lot of you like a dark cloud. But, wrapped up in them, the warmth of their bodies almost drowns it out. The truth is, none of you escaped this experience unscathed. Even with the weight of the world still hanging over your heads, even with the end nowhere in sight, it’s clear: none of you are walking out of this as the same person. It really did feel like the world was falling apart, and there was so little to be done about it. When you had imagined the end of the world, you had thought you’d go out kicking and screaming. You didn’t imagine you’d be waiting in a tiny city apartment, days blurring by into smog. The world was falling apart, and the worst part was, people didn’t care that it was falling apart.

But as you look around the circle you know: these men care. And you aren’t and haven’t been alone, not one bit. You weren’t alone, not when the darkness began to encroach and convinced you that you were the only one in the world, not when the distance became unbearable, not when you arrived at the doors to this very strange, very large house and felt like you were meeting seven strangers for the first time again. You haven’t been alone, not since you’ve known them. And you sure as hell haven’t been alone in your struggles.

“Even if I have no direction,” Namjoon says, one of his arms wrapped around you. “I have you all.”

“We’re better together,” Jimin says, though his words are muffled into your shoulder. “We’ve always been better together.”

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