#Yoongi is my soulmate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minjoonalist · 2 years

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Alexithymia. | JJK +18 [ 1 of 3]

Pairing: Demon!Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Mature +18

Genre: Angst, smut, SoulmatesAU

Word count: 17.8k

Description: Jungkook always had a pull to you. An unexplainable connection that brings him to your side daily, like a permanent routine. Is it a hobby? An obsession? Or was the centuries old prince just bored? No… boredom doesn’t make his heart race. It’s not supposed to make him lose his own self control, or fill him with blinding rage, and it certainly isn’t supposed to have him hallucinating the strangest things until it drives him back home for answers. Maybe he just cares too much for you and he thought that it’d be better to wait than to give in, but the longer the prince spends his time away, the more he realizes he has absolutely no Idea what emotions have been festering since the very beginning. What if he could just turn them off?

Warnings: Cursing, explicit language, mentions of blood, near death experience, some good ole fashion violence, mentions of killing, light smut, Eventual smut, hallucinations, Nipple play, pining, a very pissed and jealous Jungkook.

Song Inspo: Pretty- The Weeknd, Waves- Normani, Softcore- The Neighbourhood, Middle Of The Night- Elley Duhe

Author’s note: This will be a mini series of three parts due to the high word count lol Also In no way am I an expert on demons, all of this is from the top of my head or made up honestly. It’s more of an angsty self-indulgent plot to write demon JK for (several months) so please enjoy and if you want leave your thoughts on it as well! :)

Masterlist | 1 2 3

I. Emotional Arousal

He’s pissed, he was blindingly pissed.

He shouldn’t have been gone for as long as he was and it wasn’t like him to be this stressed about you, running around like a mad man on the hunt.

The problem is… Jungkook, a high ranking demon with much bigger priorities is worried because he isn’t able to feel you anymore. That’s right, the prince could no longer sense the random human girl or her location while he was working and it was driving him crazy. Sneaking off once again like he’s done multiple times to come find you, but you were no longer connected to him.

“Angel, where are you?” He growls loudly out into an empty space while simultaneously ripping your front door open and trying to ease down the anxiety filling him.

The loud bang of the white wood smacking into the wall would be loud enough to scare anyone half to death, had they actually been inside. But that was the problem, there was no one here- meaning you were lost, out into the night where anyone or anything would be able to get their hands on you. He had warned you plenty of times about the night life being far more dangerous when it came to the ungodly creatures lurking around and yet still the only evidence that seemed to be left of you anywhere in your entire home, was only a slight indication of your sweet almond scent marking everything you touched.

Your front door, your kitchen, even the hallway that leads to your living room, it's almost as if you hadn’t been here in days.

Wait...

Noticing something completely off, Jungkook opens his nostrils again. His heightened sense of smell takes in an out of place scent as he walks closer into the cozy space of your living room. It was almost so faint that he nearly missed it in his frantic search. However, It's as if he could see it before he smelt it, another aroma rising from one particular spot on your couch, a spot way too close to where you’d usually be sitting and he’d pop in next to you while you were reading one of those pointless romance books.

It's where he should have found you exactly at this time or at least he knew you’d be studying.

Jungkook couldn’t shake it, the other scent wafting up his nose and taking over yours so much that it began to make his stomach sick and he’d hate to ruin your nice creamy carpet, but now that he was thinking about it, the demon couldn't believe he didn't notice the smell from your front door in the first place. It’s everywhere, following him with every step he takes and it’s so hard to place whatever the hell it could be.

Maybe…it belongs to another person.

He easily concludes this in his investigation, stepping back from the space and glaring at the spot that holds the unwelcomed presence of someone he couldn’t place. Beyond annoyed, Jungkook tries to rid himself of it, needing to badly follow yours and get a sense of where the hell you could have gone off to so late.

He does exactly that, turning back down your dark hallway that leads towards the jarred door that was the opening of your bedroom. Your scent was strongest here, driving up his nose blanketing him in a sweet cocoon of you. The sensation drives him wild almost every time, reminding the powerful demon of the human he’d randomly taken a liking to while surfacing from his home one day.

He couldn’t tell you what made him leave it after a total of only 100 years had passed by, considering he was fairly entertained. He just wanted a change of scenery, tired of the same old routine of tortured souls and being confined to miserable ‘yes men’ serving him just to save face. He needed to roam, move around to new places, even if that meant walking amongst the strange and despicable lives of those who still held them.

Humans.

He’d only been in your realm for a total of two days, before he’d found himself just as bored as being back with his family.

Nothing excited him, the weather was unpredictable, sunny one second and pouring down on him the next. The humans were rude, ruder than his clan somehow and he wasn’t sure how many times he would have to hold himself back from easily wringing the life out of anyone else who wanted to call him an e-boy- minus the hundreds of girls, who for some reason, kept mistaking him for a random k-pop idol.

Jungkook planned to leave within the next moments, having had enough for another century or two, until one day he’d seen something or rather someone.

It was you…trying to open your cheap umbrella in the continuous downpour of rain. What compelled him to rush across the street, nearly getting wrecked by three cars to help you, he once again had no clue and he still didn’t to this day, but as if a magnet had been pulling him along, he ignored every alert of the goosebumps rising on his skin while drawing closer.

Without thinking, Jungkook froze getting near you, a deep shock in his abdomen as his fingers connected on yours once he instinctively reached for the contraption in your hold. As if like magic, Jungkook had taken it and fixed it for you- the tall, raven haired male towering your fair height almost twice and holding out the umbrella you’d damaged trying to open a few minutes prior.

“Uh- Here...you’re getting wet.” He comments carefully while holding it over your head, though with how drenched you’d gotten, you honestly didn’t need it anymore.

You would blink up at him, awe struck with wide sparkling eyes as he stood with hard droplets of rain pelting all over him. “Oh! Thank you… you didn’t have to.”

He’s seen how your eyes roamed all over him in curiosity. All black attire that began to cling to his body, multiple oddly shaped metals pierced into the pale skin of his ears and bottom lip. He has big almond eyes and shoulder length raven hair pulled half way up into a ponytail, or at least from what you could tell as the rain had matted it down to his head.

From the corner of your eye you could vaguely see the small pieces of ink flowing up his neck that you sure lead to the rest of the hand holding out your umbrella.

The intimidating man with the baby face, radiates a powerful aura you’d never experienced from anyone before. It was almost inhuman, as if you were supposed to fall to your knees the second your eyes landed on him. It made your stomach jump and with that goosebumps eroded your skin as well. Bringing in not only an unknown feeling in you, but also filling your soul with unease, as if you were in a horror movie and you’d inadvertently discovered he was the killer.

Well, you weren’t that wrong…In no way, was he to be considered innocent, hell you’d probably be horrified in learning everything he’d done, but Jungkook never had any intentions to harm you. In fact even as he walks away from you- the demon could very well say that there was not much else he found himself thinking about besides you after that day. Your cute expression with your light filled eyes, your attractive pouty lips pulled into a shy smile as he fixed the object for you and then... the sharp spike of arousal inside of you the moment your eyes had connected and you replied with a simple thanks.

That was the first time he sensed you, your sweet scent punching him in the nose so hard he almost began to feel dizzy and it brought him a new high with a light buzz, also making his vision darken in effect. It was like having a bucket of fire thrown upon him, his own skin and body heating up uncontrollably from his fingers to his toes. He’d never experienced anything like that before and along with that thought came the excitement he'd been waiting for.

Jungkook discovered something new.

Something that made him crazy enough to purposely run into you a week later while you were struggling to carry a few groceries out to your car or even the next two days after that since he couldn’t wait that long, where he ran into you at the mall, standing in front of you at the food court in a coincidental encounter.

When he thinks about it now it was almost too obvious and he can’t believe you’ve never asked about that...He was really a full on stalker.

Jungkook always thought about you, bringing you up to his brothers and constantly wondering what you were doing or what you were really like in your daily life. It almost took him too long to realize his obsessive behavior, leaving his duties unattended and finally noticing this craving to have you around all the time. It just kept bringing him back, for more and more- until eventually Jungkook had taken the opportunity to get to know you, fully understanding everything about you as a friend.

He didn’t have many friends…at least not human ones. But, apparently he found you. A random girl with a heart of gold and a soul so pure, it’d actually made him question himself on whether or not he should continue on. It probably would have been best to leave you alone, you didn’t need someone like him in your life and especially not if he would only end up possibly corrupting you later down that line.

...Obviously that idea didn’t last too long.

It was selfish, but Jungkook still came around more often, your small talks turning into heavy conversations. You both began to hang out and eventually you’d begun to notice how much of himself he didn’t reveal to you or that you never knew much of anything about him as he did you and with that, you’d begun to get wary of him. The mysterious man you’d always had a great time being around, seemed a bit too closed off than you would like and to that extent...reluctantly—Jungkook made the risky decision to reveal the most important part of himself.

Who, or rather what he is.

Although the demon was well aware, you weren’t ready to see the unworldly elements of his appearance, he still took to showing and explaining to you the bare minimum of him. Somehow, it wasn’t enough for you to believe him and Jungkook wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, because the last thing he wanted to do is to show you his true nature when he barely knew you.

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head at the lost memories as he pushes your bedroom door open. Just thinking about the hardships of your rocky beginning had him cringing before stepping inside, searching around for you.

He still remembers the rough 6 months it took to get you to come back around, how you were skeptical of him at first and figured it was all a joke until you realized how serious the man was. Fear had suddenly become the only emotion you felt for him and you proceeded to think of him as some crazy asshole.

Much later down the line, Jungkook can understand why you’d think that.

He then had to admit that as funny as he found it, he was a little hurt when you told him to stay away from you, threatening to call the police if he so much as breathed in your direction again. Jungkook was not put off by this, because even if you did- the 100 year old demon could easily kill them all within the first five seconds of their arrival but of course you wouldn't know that and he’d never want you to.

Jungkook never wanted you to be afraid of him.

It was just strange however, that while you told him such a request, he could still feel your disappointment in the damaging reveal that resulted in the loss of a new friend. But as you requested… Respectfully, Jungkook went away—at least from your eyesight.

Of course he was still around, the demon couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he tried. It was physically draining at that time and he didn't notice it like he does now. He was always around, watching over you and seeing you interact with others who weren’t him. For the first time in his life, he’d actually experienced sadness. He wanted to talk to you, interact normally with you, and smell that faint scent of yours that used to give him such an amazing high whenever you were together. On the other end, Jungkook wasn’t going to force you and he would wait for you to come around, somehow knowing that on your end...you kind of missed him too.

He just didn’t realize that day would be more than 2 months later and not in the way he hoped.

By then Jungkook had actually gotten busy back at home and while you were still on his mind, he’d grown to always keep another sense for you- which he didn't know he was capable of. Anytime that the demon had crossed your mind- he knew and he saw all of it. Your relieved thoughts wishing him good riddance, your bittersweet memories of the laughs you shared and even a few dreams he’d managed to sneak a peek at. Some of them were formed from your memories, others were concocted from your fears, and the rest-...well lets just say the demon will never understand why your dreams were perfectly timed to stop whenever you and a faceless man had begun to inch too close to each other. Rarely did you ever have them though and sometimes he wondered what could ever be the cause of them…Though, now he has a pretty good idea.

There was also another sense, one he always hopes you would never have to use again. One day you fell...hard. A terrible accident of you slipping in your shower and breaking your arm while also creating a lethal blow to the back of your head. In fear you laid on the shower floor, hot water spraying over your injured figure and you couldn’t call for help, hell you were barely conscious enough to.

Jungkook didn't know how, but he could feel it, something was wrong, you weren’t okay and wherever you were, he needed to be there and fast. The whispers slithering around in his head and an unclear image of you popping up behind his eyelids. It could have been from the silent pleas in your head or the pure emotion of terror pulling him to you, but Jungkook had found you, Appearing out of thin air in a steamy blur of your bathroom and ultimately scaring you half to death in your pitiful state. When he found you, he was so horrified that he didn’t pay attention to your scent causing a dangerous reaction to him and his body.

His vision went dizzy and his mana began to seep from his fingers, but none of that was too big or too important when he was watching you slowly die in front of his eyes.

He remembers the tears slipping down your beautiful face and mixing in with the red water flowing down—…red…water? The blood, Fuck, you were bleeding so much!

Jungkook could still remember his panic after noticing the crimson liquid being produced from the back of your head- coating the strands of your wet tangled hair. His breathing became labored as something shifted in him and you were still conscious right up to the point where you could see the shocking changes to his features. Deepening veins crinkle around his face connecting to his pitch back eyes…skin turning a sickening gray as his teeth poked to the top of his lip.

You were holding your arm, the life in your eyes dimming out by the second while looking confused and more terrified than ever as you silently pleaded for this not to be your end. You truly thought He was going to kill you and that realization overwhelmed you completely.

Needless to say you passed out as soon as you saw whatever was happening to him, eventually leaving him in a hasty and awkward situation to gather you up from your position and covering up your bare body.

Jungkook’s hands shook unknowingly, feeling your life force fade by the second and he moved quicker, suddenly concentrating enough to heal you and bring you back to your normal state. Which actually might’ve been something you would have wanted to be unconscious for, because there was no way you’d want to experience the smoky black essence that had begun to slither out from Jungkook’s hands and into your head. It was never a pretty process, at least not in the rarest of times that he’s had to use it. It pained him to watch you groan and cry in your sleep, but at least they were signs of you still being alive.

It took a lot of his energy to bring you back from the brink of death, but Jungkook did it anyway, exhausting himself in the end. So much that when he was done- the black blood dripping from his nose, he collapsed next to your unconscious form and waited with you, just for a couple of minutes and then he would leave when he felt you were okay.

He overestimated his impulsiveness, those minutes slowly turned to hours as time passed and it was purely unintentional, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave you. The more Jungkook stayed by your side the more he had begun to feel comforted by you and the less he felt panicked by your sudden injuries, nor by the idea that you would slip away permanently.

When you came to, in your bed later that night, you’d tried to write it off as a horrible dream. However it wasn’t and you quickly came to that realization, because he was still right beside you on your bed, watching you and holding your healed figure so tight you were sure it would eventually cut off your air intake.

He felt your inner turmoil, the anger, the relief, and another feeling he couldn’t quite decipher. All he knew was that your heart was beating way too fast for him to keep up and that your scent had gotten just a little stronger.

He wondered if you could smell him the way he smells you, reveling in it and inhaling as much as he could before you’d eventually push him away again. He knew it was coming any moment, Jungkook could feel the fear and the confusion, knowing that you were aware of the dull pain emanating from the back of your head and your arm. You still had your memories and it was baffling how quick you came to the realization that absolutely none of that was in your mind and Jungkook was actually something that wasn’t meant to be a part of your mundane life.

Yet, by the look of the crimson blood staining his shirt and your bed sheets…there was some explaining that needed to be done.

Jungkook knew you had many questions and were probably still too shaken up to figure out which one you wanted to ask. Not to mention that he was still the last person you wanted to see, so he didn't mind your uncomfortable state in his arms. It wasn’t until time slowly passed again that he’d heard you speak to him for the first time in months with your actual voice. He couldn’t help but hold his breath to your soft tone, so small and precious…it made him melt inside.

“The last thing I remember is… my shower.” You hesitate, well aware how much stiffer he’d gotten as it connects to his ears. Jungkook’s body froze intensely from hearing you and although he was excited, he couldn’t bring himself to answer because he refused to think you actually wanted to speak to him. He wondered if that was all you truly wanted to say, still feeling the huge mix of emotions, because you had to have noticed the blood over his shirt.

“Is that…my b-blood?” You had so much fear asking that, lip trembling at the thought as your eyes zoned in on the out of place stain.

“Unfortunately, it is Angel.” He swallows.

Your eyes water, scoffing at the ironic pet name. “Am I dead?”

He frowns and shakes his head, even though you couldn’t see him. It’s probably best if he answered you honestly. “You… were half dead when I found you. You almost didn’t make it if I hadn’t helped…”

You peered at him lost. “How did you know?”

He shrugs with you still in his arms “I heard your voice call out for help, it was so sad that I followed it and… it led me here. I managed to stop the severe bleeding to your head, but your arm may hurt for a couple of days. I’m sorry, I didn’t have enough energy to heal it fully.” He then cautiously explains it to you as simply as he could and you try your best not to let your tears drop in front of him from the recent thoughts.

“Don’t apologize, I-It's not like you had to help me.” You say more embarrassed than anything.

You nearly died and you were actually saved by a self-proclaimed demon. The same one who’d transformed into something horrifying right before your eyes, but is also holding you close to him for dear life, as if you were his only comfort.

Jungkook…the man or thing you insulted and told to stay hell away from you and he’s the very reason you’re still breathing. What does he want from you? He didn’t have much of a connection to a random person like you. Is he watching you?

“I know, but I wanted to.” Jungkook hesitates after another long silence...anxious to ask you something that's got him on edge. “Are...you scared of me?”

You nod, making his chest burn in response and at the time Jungkook didn’t understand why he cared so much.

“I was at first when I thought you were here to kill me or that I imagined you before dying.” You sniffle, your weary voice then following. “b-but, I think I’m just confused more than anything. I don’t understand why or how you helped me.”

I don’t understand you. Is what you were truly thinking and Jungkook could very well say the same thing.

You were beginning to think you were going crazy, letting yourself feel safe within his arms and allowing some unworldly creature into your life under that title. But in the moment, underneath all your fears and doubts, you were actually happy to have someone there who cares for your well being-even if he wasn’t human.

You live alone and your estranged family is miles away from you, making it highly doubtful that no one else but Jungkook could have found you before it was too late. There was no telling what could have happened to you if he didn’t and that thought had stuck with you even within the next couple of weeks that the man had disappeared again.

There wasn’t much else you’d seen of Jungkook and whether you noticed it, you had begun thinking of him more often once he was gone. He always saw that night replaying over in your mind continuously even while he was too busy with his duties. There were a few times he swore he heard you call out to him again, but every time he ignored his urges. Watching the images of you in his head and keeping a safe distance until he’d heard you again within a desperate rush.

Why the hell does he keep hearing you like this? And Jungkook never stops himself from following it.

When he found you, this time it was you and your co-worker Min Yoongi being held up by what looks like a hooded man pointing a weapon towards both of you. He could tell you’d just come from work, that hideous uniform making its first appearance to him and he mentally swore one day he would burn it.

Which Jungkook definitely did. Twice.

He takes his time to assess the situation and the look of concern coming to his friend’s face. He really needed to act fast, before it all goes wrong, the both of you being in serious danger. Well at least not for long, not after he’d taken the liberty to come behind the robber too fast for you to comprehend. It didn’t take more than two seconds before the both of you heard a sick crack of the man’s neck, followed by the clatter of his gun. In the next second Jungkook was gone as well as the robber, leaving you and your friend baffled in silence.

“What the fuck was that?” Yoongi frowns, stepping from in front of you to make sure you’re alright. You shake your head feigning innocence while also willing your heart to stop the erratic beating as your mind replays the whir of a tall and dark figure appearing and disappearing with what you assume to be the now dead offender.

“I don’t think I could give you an answer for that.” You swallow, still processing the moment.

You tried your best to push away the panic after that event, but something deep in your gut was telling you it was possible and for some reason you hoped that was the case. Was that? No way...You would immediately think of only one possibility which of course would lead back to the only abnormal thing in your life and that was Jungkook.

He saved your life again, you quickly realized and from that moment, there wasn’t a day that passed by and you didn’t think of him. Sometimes he could even feel when you wanted to call out to him again, your questions still left unanswered as to what happened that night and why your friend suddenly couldn’t remember a thing the next day.

As much as he had tried to ignore you like before- your cries had become stronger than ever by the day, beckoning him to you- especially when he’d begun to feel a deep sadness in you as time had passed on.

Jungkook didn’t like this, he’d never sensed it on you before and it was so strange to feel it from you so often. He’d gone back to watching over you himself, seeing you be so lively in front of all your other friends and masking down the unknown pain you’d been feeling for a while.

You felt alone.

Apparently you’d felt that way for a very long time. When you were by yourself, he felt your true emotions- even when you took it upon yourself to go out one night to a bar.

Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from following you, watching in the background once again ( truly not his proudest moments.) and seeing you drink yourself to the point where you couldn’t tell your left from your right. At first he didn't think too much about it until he heard your slurred words leaving softly from your mouth, though they should normally be swallowed by the deep bass of an upbeat song blasting throughout the dark scene.

Jungkook felt his body go cold, your face stricken with despair. It was enough of an image to tug on his emotions, which strangely had been harder to keep a control on.

He kept on watching you drink consistently, more and more as if you were trying to drown within them. Being drunk wasn’t a good look on you and especially not when so many others were watching you with ill intentions. By others, he means...the rather unmerciful creatures hiding amongst your kind. The ones who could easily be drawn to the purest part of your soul and would then run off with you somewhere else to devour you without batting an eye.

Unsurprisingly, that disgusting thought had Jungkook caving, knowing any of them could easily be apart of his bloodline.

It had become unbearable to watch you continue on like you did and without much more thought, he’d left from his dark corner, hiding him well within the crowded space. The demon maneuvers around the multiple bodies on the dance floor, making his way across the lively building and heading your way once he’d notice an unpleasant scent of another too close to you.

Jungkook searched, his enhanced eyesight flitting around the dark scene until he saw it standing beside you and leaning comfortably against the table, blocking any way out for you. A sick grin is plastered on its face as it talks nonsense in your ear and it was disgusting to see the murderous intent hidden well behind its eyes, but not from Jungkook. He could see well within its blood driven thoughts, if not, what would even be the point of his high ranking if he can’t see every move of the underlings.

“She’s mine. Fuck off…” Jungkook growls deeply under his breath in a menacing manner. It's all he has to say to have a horrified look replacing the creature's smug expression.

Those murderous eyes, flit around the room and towards him with nothing but fear dancing behind it’s pupils. He’d barely put any effort or authority in the command, but it had heard him enough as if he was standing right beside it. Jungkook’s dark essence encased the creature within it’s head and it swore it nearly saw the prince ripping the life from its body.

Just like he wanted…honestly they always had the weakest minds to access.

The creature had conveniently taken the form of an attractive human male, most likely looking for its next meal. He didn't give a damn what it had planned for you but what he does know is that if it isn’t gone by the time he was walking up to you- the creature would never have a chance to blink before Jungkook would have fulfilled exactly what was seen in it’s head.

The creature was smart when it took off afterwards. It disappeared within the next second, no questions and especially no hesitancy within the prince’s presence. You’d frown, wondering where the random guy had run off to, before a familiar scent of mint burned strong in your nostrils and your blurry eyesight was able to make out a familiar face standing right beside you out of nowhere.

“Boo.” He whispered and your body was stiffening. Suddenly you could hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and it felt as if someone had knocked all the air out of you as you flinched back.

“Jung-kook…?” He could barely make out through your grumbled pronunciation.

He sighs at the unfortunate situation. “You should be home, Y/n-”

Before he could finish, you’re letting out a strange giggle that was swallowed up by your extreme intoxication. Your eyes half lidded when you slam your hand down to make your point and you swung it towards him. “You are wat-ching me. I-I knew it…I felt it.”

He grimaces from the hearty burp following those words and the redness of your eyes staring somewhat in his direction. Of course he was watching you, he never stopped …and you knew that? You couldn’t have.

“Y/n, how many do you see of me?” Jungkook goes on to ask, waving an inked hand in front of your eyes that you definitely weren’t following.

You then squint as if you were thinking hard about the question. “Ummmm...di- you always h-have a twin?” You hiccup.

The man suddenly frowned under all the ruckus and music...There was no way you were getting home without him.

How are you suddenly this reckless?

Irritated, Jungkook grabs your hand without warning and leads you out of the area with haste, before anyone or anything could target you again. He then leads both of you out of the club and onto the sidewalks of the dark, empty street.

You tried your best to keep your stomach down, groaning as the big scary man walked both of you out of sight and into a dark alley beside the busy building. Thankfully you were too drunk to comprehend much, that meant Jungkook didn’t have to go through the miserable task of walking you home. Instead, all he had to do was keep you beside him- an arm grabbing you and pulling you so close, anyone would assume both of you were just an average couple.

You two are most definitely not…well you were pretty normal, Jungkook was the one that just couldn’t stay away from you.

He doesn’t know if it was because of how pissed he was or maybe he was just too focused to pay attention to your heartbeat speeding up from the close proximity, but he definitely missed your audible gasp from the move.

It clearly didn’t matter, the one goal he had for that night was to make sure he got you home safe. Which, technically... he did- but it wasn’t as quick and simple as he’d foolishly hoped it would be.

The only way to describe your sudden transition, would be as if the both of you were just walking casually down the alley way of the city and when he hugged you closer, a two second blur passed over your eyes and you were suddenly walking through the entrance of your apartment. There was no sound, no sparkles or magical effects to signify the inhuman move...just him.

Jungkook immediately removes himself completely from you, stepping away to another part of your living room as if he couldn’t stand to be any closer.

“Go to bed.” He then suggests, with a somewhat disappointed gaze.

Somehow... that hurt both him and you to say.

You pout suddenly trying to sober yourself up and you didn’t want him to go away again. You wanted to know more, you couldn’t understand why when you shut him out and clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

“ But I-...you...?”

Normally there would have been more fight in you from the command, but with the after effects of all those drinks, your body felt as if it was ready to shut down any moment.

Even Jungkook could sense your low energy, watching your uneven stance as you were swaying side to side but ultimately trying to keep yourself awake enough to say something to him. The man was seriously starting to question why he even had such a strong pull to you- but the second he noticed your body swaying a bit too far for his liking, all those thoughts had shot out the window.

Jungkook had sprung forward from the distance he tried putting between both of you– catching you within unreal speed before your entire body could collide with the floor. Instead you had landed safely within his arms, the man groaning in exhaustion that he now had to walk with you all the way to your bedroom, because there was no point using up more of his energy to teleport both of you there when it was only a few feet away. Still, it was never supposed to go this far and you definitely weren’t supposed to meet him again after the last time he helped.

Why were situations like this becoming so damn hard?

It was too late to make sense of it, even in your intoxicated state and you’d just be dumb to think this was a dream. Jungkook, a man who is a demon...and has saved your life so many times that it might as well be a cliché, had taken you home from his own volition and brought you to bed with absolutely no complaint.

Towards the very end of that encounter, once again you’d managed to thank him like before, drowsy, half-way conscious. You then panicked because when you finally had the opportunity to see him again, You blew it. Drowning yourself in alcohol to avoid the obsessive thoughts you always had of him and the small hunch in the back of your mind telling you that he is always near.

He’s not dangerous...in-fact you’d know better to think he actually cares about you, but Jungkook didn’t know that you were beginning to understand that, putting your theory about him watching over you to the test and Jungkook had passed with flying colors.

Meanwhile Jungkook, feeling stupid enough to let you see him again, was ready to leave as fast as possible. He remembers setting you down gently onto your bed and slightly missing the feel of your body in his arms, but it was a small emotion that he could easily bury to the back of his mind. He was ready to let go and maybe even ignore the odd pull to you once and for all until something soft had grabbed weakly for his hand when he’d begun to turn away.

Again, he overestimated his impulsiveness.

He flinches in the process, his guard crumbling so easily and he’s looking down towards his wrist to see you staring up at him with those wide starry eyes he’d first met you with.

“Please…stay.” Jungkook’s face screwed up in confusion, you were barely able to finish that last sentence before slipping into unconsciousness and letting him go as you passed out with slumber.

Stay? No, absolutely not. He shouldn’t– he can’t…Jungkook won’t.

He breathes in, encouraging himself to leave and to move his feet, but that never quite worked out. In-fact Jungkook has become comfortable watching you sleep peacefully, your dreams of a faceless man again coming up and he watches them like a movie. Your smile bright as ever, leaning into someone with raven cropped hair and a toothy smile. You both looked perfect together and some part of him envied that even while it wasn’t real.

He’d laid beside you, plenty of space apart, going over every last feature and detail of your face. He was content, the bored void inside him faded and Jungkook never realized how dangerous that feeling was so easy to become addicted to.

He didn’t know that's where it all began.

Skipping over the next few months of your developing friendship, Jungkook had begun to pop in and out more often whether you wanted him to or not- kind of like this moment and after the past few years, You’d gotten accustomed to it, no longer jumping out of your skin at the sight of a gorgeous demon appearing in your home or at your side to talk to you at any moment. You’ve grown to not be scared of him, you wholeheartedly trust Jungkook with your life and he could say the same. Spending hours of your free-time together, talking and teaching him about the latest trends or simply enjoying each other's presence.

You became a safe haven for him. When Jungkook was stressed, he came to you, when he’s tired he comes to you, and if he was just bored from working…he spent the rest of his time with you. Under all that consistency, there's no one else who could bring him the same kind of peace. He respected you and cared for you, but at some point Jungkook knows it’s grown to be more than that.

He loves having you around, it’s exhilarating every time, making his heart beat faster than usual and he had to admit the thought of your body against his brought unspeakable, filthy ideas to his mind, but Jungkook had never entertained the idea of truly being with you before and maybe that was because of his inability to think you’d never want to be with anyone else than him.

Clearly that had changed.

He realizes that maybe he’d taken that thought for granted, because he really doesn’t want anyone other than you. He’s definitely unable to skip the idea of confessing to you the second he sees you, thoughts of knowing someone was here not too long ago, sending him into a fearsome state and if that wasn’t enough then maybe it was also the pure anger that he couldn’t only smell you anymore but that putrid scent he was beginning to loathe. The mixed smells waft around your bedroom and it’s enough to almost have him losing control, because no one else should be able to touch you.

You are his and his only-... wait, no you’re not…you’re actually just friends, because Jungkook is a dumbass who never made his move. Still that didn’t mean he couldn’t hope you weren’t sleeping with other people.

It feels like Jungkook was walking on a thin line- balancing himself from tipping over. Too much is going through his head, his jealousy and anxiety on your well being confusing him more than ever. Something about this situation is completely off to him and he was more possessive than usual, so worked up that he can’t seem to let himself feel any different as if an invisible force was playing around with him.

Jungkook can’t think straight.

“I’m getting too worked up over nothing. We’re just friends.” He whispers silently to no one, feeling as the mana lowers as well as his anger. The only problem is, it feels like his body won’t listen to him anymore.

Trying one more time, Jungkook begins to think of you. He closes his eyes, taking in a long breath as the whispers in his head begin to fill the silence. He focuses on them, a blurry vision attempting to get a hold of his usual connection to you, only to fizzle out moments later with no progress. Jungkook goes back in again and tries so hard to reach you, that the energy from it actually triggers a freakish spark to your room and hallway lights, dimming them out completely and leaving him there pitifully within the dark silence.

He never thought feeling nothing could ever be so terrifying.

Suddenly, his chest begins to tighten and he can't breathe as something overcomes him. A highly noticeable sharpening comes to his vision as Jungkook lets out a powerful wave of frustration. In the dark, while his eyes are being covered in pitch black, the veins in his face surface with the same color. His skin then turns a lighter shade of pale gray and immediately Jungkook panics, closing his eyes briefly before shutting them tight then intaking a deep breath of air.

If you came, you wouldn’t want to see him like this…then again, what if you had someone else with you and you were still with them? What if you brought him back and Jungkook lashes out at him, you’d definitely hate him afterwards. Fuck, his thoughts just went in a huge unreasonable circle.

He shouldn’t be this possessive, but something was clearly telling him otherwise. Jungkook just can’t shake those thoughts. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him again.

You’re allowed to hang with others besides him and Jungkook knew that, you were never alone-albeit you did have few friends including Yoongi, but you were still a highly likable person. He didn’t have the right to question who you were into, but damn if it didn’t have him seeing red or better yet-black at the possibility, especially being that he has absolutely no idea who it could possibly be.

He opens his eyes as his vision begins to get back to normal, his gaze landing on the small but open space of your bedroom.

Like many times before he’s seen the familiar baby pink shade to your walls, the various bots of random plants he had no clue the purpose of. The cute white vanity on one side of the room and a tall glass mirror on the other where he constantly finds you getting ready. Lastly in the middle- your neatly made up queen sized bed with cream sheets, a thousand plushies and too many matching baby pink pillows to count. He’s seen all of this before and even laid there with you while watching some kind of princess movie called Disney? Whatever, that's not what's important right now and it's not like he was actually paying attention anyway.

Not with you so close to him.

Jungkook couldn’t seem to get the image out of his head- the memory of both of you cuddled together, his arms wrapped securely around your waist and you lying comfortably on his chest as the light from the screen highlighted your soft features in your sleep. A feeling of absolute content washes over him and there was nowhere else Jungkook would rather be than there. He loved the position mostly because it allowed him to feel your heartbeat, and more so the way it would speed up or skip whenever you felt him shift under you as if you were hyper aware of his very presence. It was the kind of feeling where Jungkook would actually think maybe he had that same effect on you like you did him- except you just never showed it and you were surprisingly good at it for someone whose mind is easily accessible.

Though there have been times where Jungkook would get a glimpse of your thoughts and he had to admit, the shocking images that would randomly sprinkle in once in a while of him—he would immediately regret ever taking a look, abruptly springing up and removing you from him to hide his sudden horniness.

You can’t imagine how frustrating it is for him, when you’re showing him thoughts like that, but he can’t sense your feelings towards him and he gets even more antsy when he can't sense you at all.

Just like this moment.

Jungkook hasn’t seen you in almost an entire month, part of that mostly being the prince’s fault. He’d gone home, a while back, atoning for his neglect over his reign. It was only right, leaving to attend to important matters and clearing whatever he had left undone. However, was that really the only reason?

Jungkook felt like a coward. Shame entering his chest whenever he found himself around you before that. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, a strong urge inside him whenever he gets too close to you. He’ll never know what triggered this strange behavior, but he does remember the exact day it had begun.

1 year and a few months…

He came just before you did, hearing you huff out a weary breath as you stepped through your bedroom door. When you do, your eyes instinctively scan the space, not disappointed when they fall towards your bed to find your friend waiting in a very comfortable position against your headboard like always.

You pause to adjust, a line coming over your lips to hide your tired smile at the scene of him playing with your pink bunny plushie. In a way, it oddly reminds you of him- cute, but mischievous as he tosses it in the air and catches it to bend the arms gently.

for some reason he always chooses that specific toy.

“You know. If you like Cooky so much you can keep him.” You say walking in further and bending forward to slip your nude heels off of your feet to get comfortable. “I mean he’s practically your twin, except with all the redeeming qualities of course.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap from the little character and over to you as if he hadn’t been expecting you to walk through the door. You knew he could sense you very easily, so you doubt he didn’t hear you arriving home on a Sunday afternoon.

You were right, however, Jungkook could always tell when you were close and that was because he could always hear your thoughts whispering to him at random. Like how relieved you were to see him after a long day of faking your social life with a group of your old college classmates you clearly didn’t care for.

What Jungkook wasn’t expecting, was to see you walking in with a much different attire than he was used to…

“Just because he’s fluffy and incredibly handsome doesn’t mean you get to compare him to the original.” You hear him say while also hearing movement from your bed as he shifts to face you.

You turn to make a face at him. “He is the original.”

Jungkook fakes being hurt with a hand to his chest and then tosses Cooky down, back into the spot you had him before. He watches you silently with a curious gaze, as if thinking hard about what he’s seeing and you realize that the second he looks your way, he hasn’t looked anywhere since. That was evident enough when you walked over towards your mirror only to meet his unwavering gaze in the reflection.

He gives you a once over, face blank of any thoughts and you’re silently trying to distract yourself from the way it had begun to make you squirm. They follow slowly down your back, arching a brow when your dress stops only a few inches above mid-thigh.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress like that before.” He comments, but from his expression you can’t tell whether it was good or bad.

It was definitely good.

“That's because I only wear it when there's actually people around to impress.” You tease and Jungkook then hears you clear your throat from his silent response. Your arms reach up and bend back attempting to unzip the back of the fitted silk dress when a nervous thought enters your head.

Your fingers were beginning to fumble, suddenly feeling under fire from the Judging gaze and it was strange, because you never truly cared whether or not anyone had approved of the way you looked. Apparently, that kind of mentality didn’t matter when it came to the prince. Then again, nothing about your friendship was normal since the beginning.

After attempting to unzip for an embarrassing amount of time, your eyes are meeting Jungkook in the mirror again, an amused smile being held back as he nibbles on his lip ring from your clumsiness.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” You ask slightly annoyed.

“No, don’t mind me. I’m just watching you at your most impressive.” He nods while folding his arms, feigning innocence.

You’re immediately rolling your eyes, landing on the inky bulge of his bicep under the oversized black graphic tee. You then realized the kind of rockish look he’d gone for- his long hair, styled half-way back as usual and he was also wearing a pair of black cargos bunched at the chunky soled boots.

He then arches a brow, patiently waiting for the inevitable. You frown, not at him, but more so to yourself for noticing. “Shut up and just help me already.”

“I didn’t say anything…” He chuckles with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to.” You then grumble as your face heats up. You honestly have to stop giving him opportunities to let his arrogant side through. It feels like the longer you know him, the more aware you’re becoming of it.

Jungkook suddenly laughs, moving to stand from his position when he decides to put you out of your misery. Honestly, it was really easy to get you flustered sometimes and Jungkook always enjoyed that a little too much.

Suddenly, when he prepares to take a stride towards you, something shakes Jungkook to the pit of his stomach. He’s only one step in when his world turns abruptly and the laugh begins to die on his lips from your reaction.

What…the…?

You didn’t notice his sudden expression within the mirror, dipping your head low to allow access at the top and under your hair while also hiding your slight embarrassment.

Something had reached Jungkook’s nose…your scent…He- can smell you again, but it’s different. This time it's incredibly strong, wafting into his senses as he takes a step forward and Jungkook frowns from the odd amount. Each breath becomes labored when he comes closer to your awaiting figure, trying his best to play it off in his hazy state. It was like inhaling a poisonous gas, except every pull became more addicting than the last and Jungkook felt like he was losing more of himself within it.

You’re completely clueless, staring off to wherever your mind has gone, probably keeping yourself preoccupied with whatever wasn’t Jungkook. Meanwhile, his body was becoming exceptionally hot stepping behind you and he held his breath, casually reaching for the lodged metal trapping you within the soft material of such a beautiful dress.

A sudden image of him taking it off of you comes to him and he frowns from the rush of the sight- adrenaline flowing through his hands. Where the hell did that come from? He thinks a bit worriedly and brushes it off as fast as it had come. Jungkook then tries to focus and fiddles with the zipper, successfully freeing the material that was caught in between and on accident, exhales in relief only to breathe again.

Now, Jungkook felt really weak.

A light buzz fills his head when he allows himself to smell again. Something within his vision then blacks out, causing him to blink multiple times as his eyes darken in effect to adjust. He grips to pull on the object fully until he’s mildly aware of the sudden movement within your reflections. At first it’s too subtle, but his hyper senses had his skin prickling with unease and there's suddenly a deep chill up his spine.

Jungkook tenses further, slowly looking up to find that you’re staring straight into his eyes un-moving and almost lifeless. He’s stuck, unable to free himself of whatever creepy trance your pointed gaze had him in and all the heat within his chest had begun to move down into the pit of his stomach- creating a fierce hunger inside.

“Is something wrong?” You tilt your head, a strangely confident look flashing in your eyes as if you were silently taunting him. Your face hides an unknown emotion, egging him on to continue and its shocking shift from your personality before. Almost terrifying.

“Jungkook-?”

His heart nearly plummets from the way you say his name.“-No everything is fine.” He barely mumbles, unable to look away within your stare.

“Then why did you stop?” You ask, interrupting him. To Jungkook your voice sounds much different. Thicker and lower as if you were purposely making it that way and completely different to the normal lightness it usually had.

“Should I keep going?” He asks, confused.

It feels like a strange tension had fallen over the both of you so suddenly and with the way Jungkook couldn’t ignore your sensual pull, his breath is once again caught, watching you cutely bite your bottom lip and say.

“Touch me…”

When those words fall from your lips, your eyes are slowly being covered in pitch black as your innocent smile turns into one of seduction. He notices by the way you both stand there closer to each other, how much your chest had begun to rise harder and there was no mistaking the lust behind your intentions.

This can’t be real.

A desperate look then falls over your face and expression becoming hooded, making his own eyes widened in shock. He then flinches, eyebrows dipping when your body inches closer to his.

“Y/n? Fuck, why are you looking like that?” Without thinking, he lifts the inked hand, pressing to the middle of your back and holding down the silk material- but something stopped him from moving, like a red siren flashing back and forth inside his head.

He swears it was meant to hold you in place, but the contact of you against his hand burns, shooting all the way up his arm.

“Please, Jungkook.” Your hands fall onto the mirror in front of you, purchasing there while moving your ass back onto him impatiently. You were then pressing your thighs together, a fucked out expression on your face that he’d never seen on you before.

Why does this turn him on? He shakes his head, but the movement feels like he hasn’t moved an inch. However, that soon becomes another case when he’s moving again. Like a mind of its own, Jungkook’s hand slowly began to lower the zipper without his doing, it was like he was having an outer body experience.

He breathes harder, watching the peaks of your soft skin as your dress slowly begins to unravel from your torso and he’s pretty sure he’s harder than ever- stifling a groan as your ass rubs against his crotch, burning him wherever the both of you touch.

He couldn’t think, slowly giving in to your soft whimpers whispering within his ear and your dress was beginning to fall down further, revealing the swells of your breasts. Your nipples are hard against your bedroom’s air, the visual tipping Jungkook closer over the edge and he can’t help himself but to do exactly what you’d asked of him.

“Touch me now Jungkook.”

“Okay.”

This shouldn’t be happening. Jungkook’s body was bending to meet yours, his hands slipping forward and underneath what was left of the silky material covering you. Instantly, he hears your voice coated in sugar as a moan falls past your lips, feeling his large inked hands palm your chest and pressing your back into him.

His mouth instinctively lands to the column of your neck, your head leaning further to allow him full access and Jungkook takes advantage of it, placing wet kisses here and there, sucking as his hands begin to knead at your supple breasts. He tugs at your nipples, hearing a squeak from your end and feels his mouth water, wondering what you would sound like if he was actually fucking you in this moment. Would you scream his name if he had his cock buried inside you, your hands gripping his hair between your legs?

He wants to experience all of it, the dark desire of ripping off your panties and rolling his hips against your ass over and over just so he could watch the both of you in this mirror until you were cumming around him with only his name in your mouth.

“Jungkook...it’s too hot.” You’re gasping, arching your back and he loves the way it falls helplessly from your lips, so gentle and sweet.

Jungkook feels one of your hands reaching back for his hair, fingers searing his scalp as they tangle within it. He nips, sucking on the skin and biting down as a shiver racks through you.

“I’m fucking burning.” He agrees and continues through the sweet burn of your skin on his mouth, trailing behind your shoulder and down your spine- listening to the sweet melodies of his name coming from your mouth just as one had starts to leave your dress and caresses up the skin of your inner thigh.

So close, he’s so close to feeling you and he didn’t know he wanted to this much.

“Jungkook, please.”

“Yes, Angel.” He gives a kitten lick to the small of your back, fingers finally reaching towards the top as he was nearly drooling to tug your dress off.

Just a little more–

“Jungkook?” You frown at your daydreaming friend.

“—Huh?” As if suddenly jolting awake, Jungkook sees you lift your head with innocent eyes, nothing compared to what he’d just been through in the last few seconds. Your scent isn’t as strong to him as before and you were definitely still fully clothed, waiting patiently for him to unzip the back of your dress just like before.

What? How did he get right here? His heart races to understand.

You scoff. “Were you seriously not listening to me all this time?”

Jungkook’s mouth opens slightly, speechless when you’re rolling your eyes in the reflection as a playful glare makes its way onto your face. “If this is your way to act cute from what I said, it’s not working. Are you going to unzip me or am I going to have to call Yoongi over to help?”

Jungkook tries his best to recover, unable to form any words or thoughts after whatever was just imagined in his head. He had you, your breasts, your body writhing within his hands, begging for him and none of that was real- but it sure as hell felt like it. The worst part is that he suddenly really wants it to be and there's no denying it from the slow tightening in his pants.

Jungkook then releases a shaky breath, trying to come up with any kind of solution as to why he saw that, but nothing comes to mind. All he knows is that he wants to get far away from you as possible right now.

He clears his very dry throat. “Sorry, something came over my thoughts. What were you saying?”

Jungkook watches your eyes snap to him again in a blank stare, instant fear shaking him to his core at the Deja-vu of the gaze. This is until you had a beautiful smile gracing your features and your eyes shining like stars instead of that chilling black, showcasing a smug humor within your gaze along with a small amount of something behind it.

A different emotion Jungkook would continue to push down from then on, but first he needed a long and cold shower.

He feels utterly helpless.

What kind of a dumbass leaves for an entire month and can’t find the one person who anchors them to the closest thing they could call love. Your connection to him was too weak to track. It made him worry, like a dark cloud was falling over him without seeing you as much and he’d almost begun to feel the emptiness of his existence again.

He suddenly sighs to himself in the middle of the silent room, but he was sure there was nothing silent about the way you actually had his emotions bouncing off of the walls. Jungkook still couldn’t control his anger and he definitely couldn’t shake the dark paranoia of you being with someone else while he was gone.

Is Jungkook too late? Did he miss his opportunity too many times?

The man had been gone for a while...but, at least he warned you first. He actually took the time out of his day to tell you that he would be going back home for a few days.

Then again, those days slowly turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a full month of no communication, because at some point those thoughts of you had begun to feel so real and with no warning. They were uncontrollable and Jungkook figured having some time to himself could help, but that's his fault because he blames himself for ignoring his growing feelings.

Now he just couldn’t control them…

“...Jungkook?”

The black blood inside of his veins freezes over his body as the familiar voice of someone that wasn’t you, sounds within the thin walls of your bedroom, followed by a very familiar scent. He doesn’t want to turn around, even with his high level of mana but odds are he would be greeted with someone he didn’t want to see and now really wasn’t a good time.

Not while he couldn’t think.

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” He asks hesitantly.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m checking on you as always.” The silver haired King speaks up from his stance. “I hope you have a good reason to be standing in the middle of your girlfriend’s bedroom, aren’t you supposed to be home right now?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jungkook slowly turns his head, his back stiffening in effect of his anger still residing within him. Right there within his smaller stature Min Yoongi’s coal black eyes stare away at the Demon’s face.

The shorter, but much stronger man walks in skeptically and Jungkook doesn’t say anything, while staring at him like a wounded animal in the dark. “You can spare me the consistent bullshit on how you’re just friends with her for once. I watch over the both of you all the time, I’m not dumb Jungkook.”

As if he’d just noticed something odd, Yoongi feels a powerful surge completely out of place and radiating from his tortured friend. It’s almost enough to have his full body going on alert, his concentration centering on one conclusion and Yoongi isn't sure how he couldn’t have sensed Jungkook before he got here.

“You-…why do you look like you’re ready to rip someone’s throat out?” He then points out, not as a question but more of a statement.

“Because I am.” Jungkook turns towards him. He breathes, trying to get a grip on himself for his friend’s sake. “I came here to see Y/n, but I can’t get a handle on her. I’ve been getting this terrible sense that something is wrong and…I can’t feel her anymore.”

“You want to see her looking like that?” Yoongi points to him as a scowl comes to his face. Jungkook’s eyes were pitch black, skin pale and fingers shaped into claws. He looks like a creature straight out of a horror movie. Not to mention, that Yoongi can sense a ridiculous amount of Malice coming from his friend. “...-I don’t think that's the best idea right now.”

Jungkook stares at him lost. “Why not?”

“You mean besides the murderous energy around you? Or was your deformed figure not enough of a giveaway?” Yoongi asks with an arched brow.

“Hyung. I'm just trying to think.” Jungkook replies.

“Think about what? How not to look like you’re ready to slaughter your girlfriend? You can barely control your thoughts, let alone your body.” Yoongi seems to ignore what Jungkook had just told him- concern uncharacteristically filling his eyes as the room grows incredibly colder, literally. “Jungkook how long do you think you can keep this up? If you go see her while you’re like this, there's a good chance she won’t be safe.”

Yoongi could then see all of Jungkook’s energy rolling off him in unnatural waves, the dark aura slithering and seeping out of his body all around your room. Even he isn’t sure he’ll leave here unscathed, realizing he stepped into a complete shit show…Dammit Yoongi might actually be too late.

“Relax. I’m pissed, not blood thirsty. ” Jungkook clips, a frustrated hand running through his long raven strands as if he was feigning, Yoongi could tell it was quite the opposite.

He then scoffs, “We both know that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to someone like her. She’s not one of us Jungkook, with the state you’re in- you’d be lucky if you don't consume her within the first minute.”

Jungkook’s stomach suddenly churns from the fear firing within the pit of it, chest puffing from the irritation that the man across from him was causing. He inhales deeply, the image of your face coming to his head and somehow that not only calms him, but makes him even more frustrated than before.

He’s aware of the possibility within his control, but there was no way he was going to get any work done if he couldn’t tell whether you were actually safe or not. All he’s been able to concentrate on is you, even though he wasn’t around you for an entire month.

So in conclusion his distance from you has only made things a lot worse.

Jungkook finally huffs in denial. “I wouldn’t think about hurting her.”

“Then why do you suddenly look so afraid?” Yoongi steps closer warily. “You’re losing control of yourself, aren’t you? You should have listened to me last time when I suggested you go see Hoseok. Instead, you keep brushing this off…sooner or later you won’t be able to. ”

Yoongi isn’t dumb and he knows how badly Jungkook wants to see you, but he can’t let that happen, at least not yet while Jungkook wasn’t in control of himself. The man doesn’t realize how big of a mess he’s made, not only for himself- but for you as well and as infuriating as it is, Yoongi is trying his best to diffuse the situation before he has to explain to everyone how he let the youngest member destroy his only relationship.

Jungkook exhales, attempting to release some of his anger once again, but it feels like nothing is working. Not only that, but the more Yoongi tries to convince Jungkook, the more he’s finding this entire situation so odd and completely infuriating. He just wants to see you, that's all and he can control himself, he's sure of it…so why the hell is it such a big problem? “I look like this, because I don’t know where the hell she is. Hyung, if you’re going to make things worse, just leave.”

“Well you may not remember this, but you already dragged me into your petty situation. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t taking that seriously, unlike you I take care of my responsibilities Jungkook.” Yoongi deadpans the obvious. “You wanted me to protect Y/n, this is me doing that...Even if its from you.”

Jungkook sighs dismissively as something begins to thin in his patience.

“You don’t have to protect her from me. What part of this seems like I don’t care? Because as far as I am concerned- there's nothing more important to me than seeing her and witnessing with my own two eyes that she’s safe and not out there with some random asshole.” He spits with a nasty venom at the thought, his calm façade cracking with a wild look.

It’s not like his friend couldn’t tell how he was really feeling anyway...

“-What?” Yoongi blinks before narrowing his eyes as he tries to come to terms with what he just heard. “What do you mean by random exactly?”

Jungkook pauses from his mistake and he curses himself. “N-Nothing. Just forget it.”

He can’t concentrate the more Yoongi talks to him and as much as the king doesn't want to be affected, he can’t help his own confusion from Jungkook's behavior…he seriously thinks you’ve moved on from him?

“Jungkook, please don’t tell me you’re here right now because of your possessive impulse to Y/n’s life.” Yoongi asks in a desperate manner and trying to mask his own sudden anger.

“If I say no will you go away?” He rolls his pitch black eyes in return.

Yoongi frowns bemused. “We both know I can't make it that easy.”

Jungkook then sighs, turning completely away from him, but Yoongi refuses to let him brush over this.

“Look I don’t know what the hell is going on in your head but one thing I highly doubt is that Y/n is seeing someone else- I would know. Not to mention that you’re the one who left for a month and apparently you both aren’t dating.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Jungkook replies, but he purposely ignores the other part of what was mentioned. He knows that you’re not together, but that reminder always seems to stir something crazy in him every time.

“You do now...Jungkook, You've been coming here for years straight. Everyday you spend either with her or waiting to speak to her and you’re so blinded by the thought of her you can’t even tell what you want anymore. You don’t find that slightest bit odd, your deep obsession with her in your life constantly?” He then steps forward and Jungkook’s chest rises harder as his right eye twitches. “You can obviously see the way you feel about her, what I don’t understand is what made you so damn scared that you’re driving yourself mad because of it.”

Jungkook’s eyes go cold, clearly beginning to tune Yoongi out, but his words hit a nerve way too delicate, setting off an unwanted reaction in him.

“Fuck off.” Jungkook clips as he inhales.” I don’t need you to play therapist Hyung.”

Yoongi frowns standing strong, watching something flash within Jungkook’s eyes.

“There it is, That same fear you keep ignoring. That's the cowardice that sent you running home weeks ago. If you’re going to keep on this way, you might as well–” Before Yoongi could even finish his remark, the next thing he knew, there was a booming smack to his back-knocking the air out of his chest and a thunderous crack of your bedroom’s wall.

“Fuck-!” The King growls out in thunderous anger and pain before his fists are balling up and his patience for Jungkook was quite literally knocked from his body. “So this is the route you want to take? Fighting me so you can keep ignoring your problems?” He suddenly stands from his position- glaring daggers at Jungkook as his eyes turn to an endless void of black- mana stretching unbelievably from his body.

“You keep pissing me off, so that makes you a problem to deal with.” Jungkook only seethes in return and the two have a lethal stare off. Neither of them calming from their chaotic temper.

Yoongi swallows the blood wanting to rise in his mouth. He motions towards Jungkook- beckoning him with an invitation. “Don’t forget that this problem can easily kick your ass. Try me.”

Before Jungkook knew it, he was once again lunging towards Yoongi, willing to to pour out his pent up frustrations. However, Yoongi was too quick for Jungkook to comprehend, stepping out of Jungkook’s way and slamming a calloused hand to Jungkook’s chest. Yoongi’s inhuman speed was always something that could catch Jungkook off guard. While the man acted and thought like a sloth- He was probably the fastest of the clan’s bloodline.

Jungkook’s hands then claw at Yoongi’s arms, slicing through his skin with only one strike and ultimately putting the shorter man’s patience below zero. Yoongi brings his arms back ignoring his pain and quickly coming back full speed towards Jungkook’s chest as his fists connect with a lethal crunch to his breaking ribs.

“Ugh!” The prince suddenly cringes, feeling the incredible force of Yoongi’s assault.

The King then roars, those hands slamming against Jungkook’s broken ribcage when he sees Jungkook getting ready for his next strike. Yoongi then closes his eyes, driven by rage and he’s lifting the bulky demon up- slamming his back down onto the floor so hard that Jungkook is sure he’d shattered his spine and crushed his lungs all at once. Honestly its amazing he didn’t fall through from the force, let alone damage the hard material.

Eventually feeling a numbing cold spread from his legs and to his head. Jungkook was close to passing out, but the pain won’t let him. He then coughs violently, the pitch black blood in his chest bubbling from his lips as he barely stares up at his friend with an overdue sense of clarity. For a moment, something flashes behind Jungkook’s eyes, an unclear image of a beautiful face smiling and walking up to a familiar figure without a care in the world, Just like you always did in your dreams.

No.

Before Jungkook could form a thought, or bring himself to comprehend the small visual he’d been trying so hard to grasp, that connection was gone within the next second he’d opened his eyes to a pissed but still concerned friend.

Yoongi just brought him to the brink of death…

His hand is pressed above the area where Jungkook’s heart resides as he watches a sad look wash over Jungkook’s suddenly broken face. Whether it was because of what just happened or not Yoongi couldn’t tell but there was no way he was going to forget about what just took place.

Fuck, what the hell just came over him? Yoongi thinks as he tries to inhale a deeper breath and gather himself from his unleashed anger. It would have been so easy, he could have simply ripped out Jungkook’s heart if that's what he really wanted…but it’s not and that's only because Jungkook is someone valuable to him.

“...I’m not going to kill you, even though it sure as hell would make me happy right now.” The elder man threatens while watching Jungkook blink and attempt to stay conscious. Yoongi stays kneeled beside him, his hand on high alert as the black veins running over his skin begin to disappear.

Yoongi then slowly feels Jungkook’s mana lower as well and he hates that it took him this far to calm him down. Jungkook’s labored breath reaches Yoongi's ears, which lets him know that his lungs were quickly healing themselves.

“Even if you did, it won’t change anything. Go ahead.” Jungkook abruptly coughs again.

The moon light from your windows shines down onto Jungkook’s face where the liquid had also begun to drip from his nose. Instantly, Yoongi feels an immense amount of guilt- but it had to be done, he had to restrain Jungkook. The only thing that made him feel worse about losing his own temper, were the words of his brother at that moment.

“What did you just say?” He then questions with a horrified look, watching the defeat in Jungkook’s eyes.

With an unbearable amount of pain filling his body, a very familiar scent fills Jungkook’s nose, causing a shitty feeling to come to him at such an inopportune moment. He doesn’t smell that disgusting scent with yours anymore…it's just your sweet almond floating alone within the space other than the two residing injured in the dark. He then shifts, feeling his bones pop back into place and bringing structure back into his spine.

The problem was, nothing hurts more than the thought of losing you to another and simply because he didn’t know how to navigate around his own feelings. So much that Jungkook isn’t sure why he’s completely overwhelmed by the weight lifting off of his chest when he wasn’t able to pick up on the foreign scent he’d been smelling all this time.

“My chest hurts…” Jungkook croaks.

“I mean…” Yoongi’s brow arches as he looks him over. “ I just caved it in with my fists so that's bound to have some kind of damage.” He jokes.

Jungkook shakes his head, a humorless scoff garbled in his throat. “No. I mean it hurts because I can’t feel her…Part of me is so upset, because I can’t shake the feeling of someone else being involved in her life while I was gone- the pain makes me want to die for giving up.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer that for a while as he stares down at Jungkook with nothing but confusion. The gears in his head turn when a deep scowl abruptly comes over his face and he’s truly understanding the full extent of the situation.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind telling me that.”

Jungkook frowns, clearly offended. “W-What?”

“I truly hope this girl is worth it, because I don’t know what else could make you act like this much of suicidal dumbass. I knew you triggered your bond, but I had no idea you were this late into rejecting it and you’re only just now coming to terms after you tried to kill me.” He doesn’t mean to but the words come out harsher than he intended. “Like I said I’m not going to kill you, but if you think you’re going to continue on like this- then I can promise that will change. I have to get you to Hoseok.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he tries to stay focused. “What are you talking about? You think I’m bonded to Y/n?”

“You just said you would rather die if you couldn’t have her, I think that stands within the category of a soulmate.” The smaller man shrugs bitterly.

“I told you before that my connection to her isn’t like that Yoongi Hyung.” Jungkook groans skeptically when he feels his bones shift in his back again and lock into place- healing is such a bitch.

“So you’re telling me that you always stalk the women you have hallucinations of?” Yoongi asks, staring straight down towards him only to see the shock in Jungkook’s eyes from his comment.

So that's it.

“...How did you know about those?” He then questions horrified with a freaked scowl.

“I didn’t, but now I do- which confirms that the real reason you went home is because they’re scaring the shit out of you right?” Yoongi smirks, knowing he just hit the bullseye. “That's how it starts...”

“You… don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jungkook goes to move, but honestly everything still hurts and he didn’t like the nasty feeling coming to his chest at the sudden realization of his friend’s confession. There hasn’t been a day that's gone by where he wasn’t obsessed with being closer to you and that includes this very moment where he was craving to be around you again.

Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief at Jungkook's denial. “I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been thinking about Jumping your girlfriend’s bones for a while now and instead of acting on it, like a coward, you hid at home within your work. Now you’re an obsessive ass, with an unstable temper that's going to get you killed.”

Jungkook’s head was swimming, trying to take in the information. Something in the back of his mind was warning him as his body no longer felt cold and numb- his labored breaths becoming normal again. “She’s…not… my girlfriend.”

“Jungkook-Do you know what happens when you trigger your bond with someone and you reject it? It fights back.” Yoongi suddenly mumbles as a more serious tone begins to fill his voice again and the sound honestly puts Jungkook on edge as he lays idle on your bedroom’s floor.

“We don’t have one.” Jungkook swallows hard, the taste of blood still evident in his mouth but he couldn’t focus on that. Not with the sour taste accompanying it as Yoongi begins to explain more into his theory.

“Hey, I know you hate to be wrong, but I think it's time to understand that everything you’re feeling is not okay. Having a connection like this to someone is not a common phenomenon for us. In-fact it's both equally terrifying and liberating.” Yoongi says with more annoyance to Jungkook’s obliviousness.

He then blinks, definitely taking his current position into account. “Maybe, it could be from the intense pain I’m currently feeling, but hypothetically, if we were to have a connection with each other. I’m having a hard time understanding how any of this could possibly be liberating.” Jungkook starts. “I’m still not sure how you’ve come to that conclusion when I’m swallowing my own blood right now.”

Yoongi sighs thoughtfully after he finally removes his hand and it runs through his snowy hair. “Scent, warmth, and an unexplainable obsession with the other. No matter how bizarre or plausible- these are all signs of the Alexithymic bo–”

“ –Alexi-… what?” Jungkook cuts him off.

“Alexithymia, it's where you can’t express your emotional arousal. Therefore an Alexithymic bond and considering how oblivious you are I’d say its a perfect title.” Yoongi answers, arching a dark brow.

He huffs, not believing how this suddenly sounds interesting.

“Hyung, my spine just cracked itself back in place and you’re giving me a vocabulary lesson.” Jungkook winces, watching Yoongi roll his eyes again and stand from his position crouched over him. The King strides across the dark space giving Jungkook room to get up. His back should be healed by now, but judging from the congested cough- his chest still isn’t fully recovered.

“I’ll crush your lungs again, if you don’t let me finish.” Yoongi suddenly threatens and leans back onto his heel to concentrate. “Our bonds are rare but more common the higher ranked you are. It's like a new obsession, constantly thinking about that person day and night- nothing else matters. However, it's considered a curse for a reason. The second you begin to ignore any pull it creates between you and that person, it will punish you in a very ugly way. You’ll see and experience things you’ve never felt before and it’ll only drive you mad until you’re triggering the darkest part of you to rid it.”

“Has that ever worked?” Jungkook tries not to ask too curiously but Yoongi knows that hint of fear laced within his question. Jungkook was definitely scared of whatever was going on with him, including how he wasn’t sure if he’d been imagining a new scenario of you running off with someone else based on a nonexistent scent.

“…Well…you can ask Hoseok that. He ignored his bond to Jiminie because he refused to think anything other wise. Eventually, Jin had to step in and restrain him in the process those few years back. We had to take him away.”

“Hobi Hyung?” Jungkook repeats one of his brother's names when something finally registers in his mind. “ Do you mean the incident where Jimin Hyung got hurt? I…thought he was just sick.”

Yoongi’s eyes show the pain behind them as the memory plays fresh in his mind of the situation, an almost traumatizing thought to think of. “-Technically speaking, he was…but somehow Hoseok found a way to eventually keep it under control. I think the thought of hurting Jiminie again must have triggered something rational in him. He wasn’t the same for months, but eventually the two worked through it. just like I’m sure you and Y/n can.”

Something in Jungkook resonates with such a horrible fear of hurting someone like you. In a way, it was actually strange considering that the thought had never entered his mind before, but now…He wasn’t super certain of his feelings towards you. Jungkook would love to believe everything is alright, but tonight has only ever shown him the opposite.

Dammit Yoongi was actually getting to him.

Maybe the grumpy man for a friend was actually right and Jungkook wasn’t the one in control after all. For the last couple of months, it's true that the thoughts he’s had when it comes to you have been worrying him. They always came at random and whenever they did, it was not only an inconvenience, but distracting as well.

All that being said, Jungkook still can’t shake the edge he feels not being near you. He’s held out long enough and there wouldn’t be any harm in him seeing you-even if it were for just a second, honestly what's the worst that could happen?

“You could kill her.” Yoongi suddenly chimes at perfect timing and Jungkook is looking at him with a deeply confused scowl. “You’re wondering what would happen if you stayed right? I can see that look you’re getting again after all I said and you should know how wrong this could go.”

“Yeah, I do.” Jungkook then suddenly groans from the pain and moves to stand feeling his body continue to heal and get back to its original state. He nearly stumbles back down before balancing himself again and he’s sighing from the entire ordeal. He looks up, taking in a reluctant breath before he stares at Yoongi head on once again. “I’ll leave after I see her and after that I won’t come back until I can fix this. Hyung, please if I go now, it’s gonna drive me crazy and all of this would have been for nothing.”

“Jungkook…” Yoongi starts for the last time until he’s realizing how much energy this is really taking away from him. Honestly they both have better and much more important things to be doing right now, besides wondering how he was going to get his friend laid.

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with a desperate shine, puppy eyes staring directly at Yoongi and he tries hard to keep his stoic expression back towards the other. Yoongi feels the slight guilt from before crawling back into his chest and hates how much influence it has on his next decision.

“...Fine. If you want to risk your girlfriend’s life, be my guess, I knew I should have stopped you when I first suspected something.” He huffs in miserable defeat, knowing that if he stays- Yoongi is worried he’d actually end up killing Jungkook out of his own irritation.

He really hoped it wouldn’t turn out this way.

“Hyung, for the last time she’s not my girlfriend.” Jungkook steps forward, ignoring the pain that shoots up his spine and it looks as if Yoongi was getting ready to leave. He pauses after pushing himself off of your door frame with a wary look on his face as Jungkook comes closer.

“Seriously, Do you want me to break your back again?” Yoongi asks, rolling his eyes and still trying to push down the part of him that doesn’t want to leave a highly unstable Jungkook behind. However he knows exactly how this might play out and if it was anywhere near what he hopes is the best outcome out of the worst- Jungkook will come back home for help and you will be safe.

Again…Hopefully.

Feeling an end to this conversation, Jungkook begins to consider his options when Yoongi’s presence with all of his mana was gone in the blink of an eye and Jungkook was once again alone within your bedroom- waiting until the moment he could hear you coming through that front door.

He doesn’t know how long he’s stood there waiting for you, but it felt like hours had passed when suddenly a subtle scent hits his nose and he’s inhaling. Sensing a familiar presence that has his heart hammering in his chest, he’s very aware of your front door opening within the next couple of minutes.

On instinct he moves, thick boots clunking across the hard floor- a shot of adrenaline speeding through his veins when his teeth grow longer and his hands are itching to grab you. He thinks about how he wants to hold you again, inhaling your scent as much as he could. Jungkook could see himself squeezing you closer and nipping on your skin while leaving hickeys all around. He wants to taste tugging on you harder until his fingers were digging into your sides deep enough to- No…he thinks to himself, immediately remembering his unstable form and ultimately stopping himself from coming to you.

Not only that, but something didn’t feel right…Jungkook’s intentions suddenly felt unclear- just like Yoongi had warned him. He sighs before taking another breath and closes his eyes as your scent hits him even stronger towards your bedroom just like all those times before. The sound of your light footsteps draw near and are drowned out by a rapid heartbeat within Jungkook’s ears.

Yours or his? He didn't know.

What he does know is that It’s extremely hard when he feels his body going haywire the closer you get all over again. He tries to avoid the darkening within his vision and before you could even sense someone else inside. Jungkook has half a mind to come into alert a few seconds too late before bringing himself back from over the edge. He inhales seeing you, but then opts for holding his breath so that he couldn’t be drawn into you further.

You however hesitate, calling out his name into the dark and waiting for no response. It’s too dark, for you- but he can see you perfectly within it. A pain in his chest from the hope in your eyes as you unknowingly stare directly into his. He wants nothing more but to reach out and hold you, though he knew that couldn't happen just yet. First he needs to calm himself and quickly find that it needs to be done sooner than later, because whatever Jungkook was thinking about a second ago no longer felt normal.

It felt ravenous...

“Jungkook?…Is that you?”

If there was anything more relieving than clocking out of your final shift for the week- then it was knowing you wouldn’t be doing anymore doubles for a very long time. It wasn’t usual for you to take on so many at your job, but with all the recent call-outs and you needing some extra cash to save on the side, you’d been working your butt off for the past few weeks.

You sigh tiredly, your entire body screaming of exhaustion and your feet aching in your shoes by the time you were heading out for the day. Walking out into the night air, you quickly found yourself shivering and felt goosebumps eroding your skin.

Although you had been running around like crazy, your body easily succumbed to the cold wind breezing by even as you were walking to your car. When this happened, you always blamed it on the hideous uniform you were forced to wear every shift, cursing the cheap fabric that was no help when it came to protection.

Suddenly, you giggled to yourself while thinking of a certain someone who always made it a point to announce how much he hated seeing it on you. “That shirt is too tight, you look like you’re freezing and suffocating at the same time.” Jungkook had once said this to you before, draping his cozy jacket over you afterwards and leaving himself bared to the night as well. At the time, you weren’t aware of the man’s unworldly nature and even now you still felt like a fool when you scolded him for acting so recklessly.

Originally, you thought your friend to be at least 3 years younger, making it natural for you to be concerned about his health, even if he was much bigger than you. But as time had gone on, you’d soon found out that the sweet boy was not only a demon within his human form, but that he was also a good few 100 years older than you.

Oddly enough he just never acts like it...Jungkook was like a arrogant brat in your eyes, but one you’ve come to adore over time.

Speaking of…You had begun to pout while letting yourself into your car, wondering when your friend would return from his schedule back home or if he would return at all. It's been so long since you last saw him and once it passed the week timeframe he had given you, a deep unease began to form in the pit of your stomach a while back. Is he avoiding you? You’ve wandered over and over with a deep rooted fear overtaking your mind, but then there were times where you could feel Jungkook in the back of your head like before and you knew he was watching over you somehow. You just wished that it would include him physically being here with you and not wherever he’d gone off to.

You never thought you would be this bothered without Jungkook around, feeling irritable every now and then to the point where you definitely weren’t your normal self. You had trouble sleeping and like now, after getting off of work, you drove home in your car fast and a bit recklessly if you were being honest with yourself. It was as if you were racing against time, a deeper part of you hoping that tonight he’d at least pop in before you went to bed, especially since this would be the first night you actually planned to stay in without him there.

It’s been a while since you allowed yourself to actually wait for him, giving up a while back on his visits but still holding on to the hope of his presence.

The more you didn’t have him around, the more you had begun to feel yourself get antsy. Why exactly you weren’t too sure and for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. All you knew was that, it felt like you were wasting time- like you actually needed to see him soon before something bad would happen.

But even when you had made it home in one piece. Rushing up the elevator impatiently and finally arriving before your front door, you were disappointed to open it and be met with a very lifeless apartment.

Out of nowhere, your heart sunk in your chest. Nothing but darkness and silence filling the space until you thought you heard shuffling and whispering in your bedroom. Immediately you thought them to be heavy footsteps, possibly belonging to a man you knew could produce them with his heavy shoes. Is he back? If he is, you have no doubts Jungkook would be confused to not find you here at this time. You were always home by now and if you weren’t catching up on your studies then you were hanging around with him.

Without thinking, your body was on autopilot, immediately closing the door and walking further along the open space of your living room and down the hall towards the now freezing area which held your bedroom.

Shivering, you frowned wondering why it had suddenly gone so cold when you always kept your house on a casual 74 degrees, not to mention that you specifically remember keeping your hall light on by accident while leaving in a rush earlier. But as quickly as you were beginning to question those thoughts, your curiosity vanished the second you stood in front of your bedroom’s doorway.

Suddenly, your body freezes- swearing you were standing only just a few feet away from a large silhouette. You frown, a deep breath being taken as if your presence had a surprising effect as it had on you. You feel your heart pounding in your chest, butterflies from not only fear but the familiar scent of mint hitting your nostrils just as it does whenever he is around. Like the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, there's a jump in your stomach that came with unease from the intimidating energy you felt while in front of him.

Maybe he’s in there…? You think of biting your lip at the foreign shiver that snakes down your spine. You stood staring into the room for about five seconds, letting your imagination run wild until his name was rising up your throat.

“Jungkook?” You whisper with barely enough sound to leave your mouth. “Is that you?”

There's no response and part of you should have expected it, you had to be a lunatic to feel so secure that a demon was possibly standing in the middle of your room waiting for you. Then again you were used to the possibility and it was strange to think he’s actually avoiding you. Somehow, that thought doesn't stop you from stepping in closer, your fingers inching towards the switch on your wall to reveal if everything you’d been witnessing was true. With a quick flick you wince, letting the warm ceiling light cast down upon you and to your dismay, find the spot where you swore he had been standing, to be empty.

You weren’t happy, but you also weren’t disappointed- not as much as the beginning of your week when you’d first been expecting the return of your friend.

“Oh…” You sag visibly, a shameful emotion of how much you’d actually felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing him. You then scowl deeper, suddenly feeling the beginnings of fatigue catch up with you and it wasn’t until about 30 minutes later after getting your things settled in, that a sorrowful huff leaves your mouth as your gaze burns through the white tiles of your master shower.

“I’ll be back, just give me a week.” You bitterly remembered him saying this to you as you closed your eyes and imagined him with his bright smile. He seemed so warm and didn’t give off the vibe that something could be wrong, so you were at a loss as to why this had been the umpteenth day you haven’t seen him.

Maybe he’d gotten bored of you…That couldn’t be it, somehow you could still feel him around, but you do remember how much he had begun to space out while being right beside you. It started out small about a year ago, but eventually you had begun to notice the way Jungkook couldn’t focus or that he wasn’t paying attention to anything you would say when you came near him. It was almost like he’d lost interest in you, but it wouldn’t explain why he would continue to pop in or even tell you he was planning to come back.

Unless…Could someone else be taking up his attention?

That seemed to be another question plaguing you and the thought not only made your heart sink but whatever emotion was clawing at your chest had spread to your body-ultimately exhausting you in the end. This had been the same thought process you’ve had for days now and there was no describing the consuming despair that overtook you because of it.

While you got ready and slipped into your bed, you could swear that you were somehow aware of his presence within your home. Without him here, it felt empty and lonely. Whereas other times, you’d be laid up next to him watching some kind of kid friendly movie and having him wrapped around you. You're not sure when the both of you had gotten so comfortable being within such an intimate setting, but it had easily became a second nature that you took advantage of.

You toss and turn in the coldness of your bed. The darkness of the room was now a bit scarier to you and again like many nights before- you found yourself restless. It might have something to do with the fact that your mind was used to the thought of sleeping next to someone else for comfort. But still, why was it so hard to sleep? To relax and let your worries melt away? You’ve certainly earned it after working so hard and if anything you should be ready to knock out at any moment.

“Ugh…” You groan, kicking around in frustration before laying flatly on your back.

You were stressed and somehow more distraught than what would feel normal. Were you seriously this upset over him? He’s only your friend…right?

It’s no secret to anyone who’s ever met him- how undeniably attractive Jungkook is. Long raven black hair that was soft to the touch, piercings on his lip, and earlobes. He was the complete opposite of you, dressed in mostly black while being covered in what you thought were tattoos but turned out to be his natural markings inked beautifully into his skin from his hands, all the way to his chest and back just to signify his bloodline. You only knew that last part because you’ve noticed through the few times you were able to catch the small slips of skin under his shirt, your eyes immediately zoning in heavily towards those areas and there had been plenty of times you’ve wanted to run your hands across them.

You swallowed and brought yourself back from the unusual thoughts of your friend. Quickly, you sit up from your position and there's an enormous amount of guilt brushing along your chest when you realize that you were actually getting turned on by the thought of the demon again.

Why? It was so sudden....but slowly as those thoughts were beginning to triumph your mind more frequently, it was becoming apparent that it truly wasn’t and there were numerous times, you found yourself thinking of the man. When you would stare at his big smile- tongue dragging subconsciously across those pink lips and the way his eyes would have those small crescents as he did so. He was much taller than you and whenever you hugged him, you had to admit the impressive build of his frame against yours. You never really cared for mint, but whenever you smelled it on him, you felt like you could dive into an ocean of it.

Seriously, what was so special about him? Well besides the fact that he is clearly nowhere near human…and that he’s literally royalty within his family.

Jungkook was always just a friend to you, but one that can easily light up your day with just one look. He’s kind and considerate, two traits that completely contradict what someone would think about a dark creature of his stature. But for some reason he’s always had an attachment to you and it’s so obvious that even you couldn’t miss it…The way he looks at you… when he holds you, his entire body tenses up and he gets all giddy just from you calling his name. He also gets jealous whenever he sees you leaving work with your male coworkers. However, something tells you that even Jungkook doesn’t realize his own strange behavior when it comes to your connection with him.

What if you were the same way? From the beginning, Jungkook was nothing but a stranger and someone who couldn’t keep himself away while knowing absolutely nothing about you. In a way, while you so openly cherished having him here in your home, you still knew next to nothing about Jungkook other than what he allows and yet…He’s the most important person to you in your life.

As your breathing begins to take a deeper turn and an overwhelming wave of warmth washes over you, there's two things that are starting to become very clear. First, you can’t stop thinking about Jungkook. You haven't been able to since you walked through that front door and secondly, the problem wasn’t that you were too stressed to sleep-you were just incredibly...unbelievably sexually frustrated and it's fair to say that you’re pretty sure he’s the cause of it.

Two long years since you met him and a little longer since you last had a crush on someone or even just an attraction. Everything that you ever thought you liked in a partner had been completely washed away and that was no thanks to him. A man that thinks Disney is actually the name of a movie, acts like a cocky brat and you were pretty sure his job was to torture souls for a living.

Jungkook. You have a crush on him—Great.

If anyone could see you, they’d wonder why your eyes had widened to the size of saucers. It was hot and you turned yourself over onto your stomach while instantly hiding your face into the fluffiness of your pillow. Hoping you could drift off into deep darkness of shame.

How the hell did you let him get under your skin?

...

Tag List : @thisartemisnevermisses @vampyjk @taeilmom @outro-kook @bishuthot @mwitsmejk @irissilujm @vickyboo @awesomebabyyoda @hanzyyme @gerim-1995 @i-dont-give-a-fok @hwangheiress @hollyverday @seajae @oishee09 @jolinaprincess @yoongibabs

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casuallyimagining · 6 months

Text

Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days.

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified.

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…”

I want to apologize.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise.

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone.

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering.

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger.

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up.

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you?

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left.

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic.

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees.

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables.

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too.

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled.

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors.

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park.

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died.

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert.

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism.

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it.

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him.

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it’s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them.

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know.

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in.

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday.

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel.

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand.

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward.

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue.

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom.

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

“Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick.

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room.

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty.

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly.

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter.

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets.

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see.

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face.

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading.

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent.

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.”

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar.

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you.

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform.

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you.

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for.

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting.

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him.

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers.

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause.

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space.

At least, you think you are.

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable.

Oh no.

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again.

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger.

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…”

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed.

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing.

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand.

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response.

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy.

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him. “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible.

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone.

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh.

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings.

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful.

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him.

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch.

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden.

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring.

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you.

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms.

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #set me free

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