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Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke. [1/2]

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.] ⇢ sub title: R like Reincarnation.

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, future smut and angst]

Summary []

Words [11,5k ; part 1 out of 2]

Warnings [mistreatment and negligence, period drama, slow burn, mention of blood and drugs, tiny sexual tension]

Rating [+18 overall but this part is a tame +14]

A/N: Guess who’s back again? ME. I’ve been working on this for a lot and I know I already have a similar story on going but I just couldn’t get over this idea in my head. So enjoy! And as always excuse me for the typos.

Every story needs a good start, and this one starts now with an old tale, much older than you.

There’s an ancient fairytale that tells you about the funding of the Empire and it all starts when God left.

Tired of human foolishness and deeply rooted malice he left the world he created to turn around its axis and burn down on its own; famine started to scavenge the continent as war broke out in every corner of the human world. Each kingdom perished one by one until only one was left.

It seemed like humanity would be wiped out permanently in no time but then just when they all thought there was no turning back, a saintess appeared among the rest and divided the continent into four regions with the help of the received divine power. That’s the birth of the empire’s central city where the empress Hyeri ruled over the four divided territories.

To prevent war from breaking out again the saintess turned to the heavens and pleaded while crying out to their maker and hearing her prayers the God who left decided to give them one last chance at redemption seeing the pure heart in front of him.

That’s when the holy prophecy was made.

Each chosen duke was granted unique powers to rule over their territories. However great powers come with great responsibilities. In the end, there’s always a price to pay but that’s the tale of another story.

This is how peace finally settled over the world once more. In exchange for the powers, the dukes wrote a blood oath that prevented them from stealing each other’s powers or waging unnecessary war. However just like every pact it wasn’t perfect. Loopholes could be taken advantage of but momentarily peace was forged.

This is the short version of the founding tale of the originated Kingdom that was taught to the people of the empire throughout generations. You particularly remember these starting lines from the novel you read in your previous life. The introduction is something you often skip through but thankfully you didn’t do that with this one.

The four families who inherited great power were Kim, Jung, Min and Jeon. When you first read the story introduction you thought that it’s quite lame and generic to base the family's attributes on the four seasons. However, seeing one of the duke’s illustrations you decided to read it all.

When choosing a book to read you only pay attention to the hotties. In this case, it wasn’t any different either.

A mysterious and cold duke of the north is something that a girl cannot ignore to save her life.

Each duke possesses an artefact which comes in the form of a ring and different precious gemstones that fit into the depression are named after the four seasons using a dead language.

Nix - means snow, which makes the wearer the lord of winter. The most handsome guy throughout the entire book in your opinion. Next, Saltus - translates to forest which is the symbol of spring. Umbra is shade and Calor is heat. The last remaining ones are autumn and summer. Each duke is the epitome of beauty, and their descendants are no exception.

This is a fantasy romance novel you read before you died in a sudden hit and run accident.

The original story is about an orphan girl Hyo who is the lost daughter of the king. After she’s found – the plot starts as she meets the four archdukes at the annual imperial ball and falls in love with the lord of Spring. Kim Taehyung. A handsome man with good manners and unmatched beauty as he’s described in the book. She’s captured by one look of the male lead’s brown eyes and shiny blond curly hair. Despite their fairytale-like first meeting, their love is not exempt from hardships. Their first obstacle is the villainess Kim Y/N who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight at the same ball and sets her eyes on marrying him but in the end, she fails to murder Hyo and gets beheaded by the second male lead Min Yoongi as an imperial order.

Hyo and Taehyung then live happily ever after and the novel ‘Flowers bloom in the heart of the Lost Princess’ ends there.

You see, dying a second time is not an option even if the one you possessed is Y/N.

You need to make an elaborate plan so you can avoid your impending death by the hands of your favourite character so you can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen – no matter how distraught you wake up one day in an unfamiliar bed.

Even though there’s no chance you will fall in love with the Duke of Spring like in the original novel – things can still go wrong if you make changes in the natural flow of the story, so you need to think this through carefully. You need to think about the plot holes and that the characters you see can be different from what you read in the book as that only tells you one side of the story.

The first thing you need to change gradually is the way the servants and the Duke see you.

The first week when you reincarnated as Y/N you spent your days with a high fever bedridden, you’re not sure if the pain came from the strain of absorbing the real Y/N’s memories or if something else is behind it. Your health is very poor as your medical history suggested, but you get accustomed to the villainess' body step by step. After another week your probation ended so you were able to leave the estate freely again. There were days when sudden headaches interrupted your day and, in the morning, you often coughed up blood.

You ignored it at first because the symptoms seemed to get better with time, and you had no way of knowing if it was normal. You didn’t ask in case someone found it suspicious. The most important thing right now is that you need to focus on staying alive and avoiding your death at the end of this novel – this is what you thought without knowing anything at that time.

As the plot thickens when you least expect it.

It’s not just your weird health conditions your head hurts just from thinking about the actions of the real owner of this body.

You just can��t grasp why a beautiful woman like Y/N would do those cruel things when she has everything she could’ve asked for. She’s a rich girl born with a golden spoon in her mouth, and she gets crazy just because she can’t have a man. It feels unnatural. If someone asks you to choose between life and a man you would choose life without hesitation.

You can have another man but not another life. Er, well – in your case, you do get another one thought but that’s beside the point.

Even before that incident happened with the female lead, she had a terrible reputation among the nobles.

Well – you can’t do anything if you’re not well rested so you will just think about this a bit later. You can’t possibly pull another all-nighter to study how this novel works. You close your eyes to finally get some shut eye when some woman barges into your room without knocking forcefully parting your curtains to let the early rays of sunshine in. The sound of her voice makes you freeze. This uncomfortable feeling suddenly ripped through your body as if a pile of rocks were sitting on your chest not letting you breathe. While you gained some of Y/N’s memories there are still holes in those fragments that you’re unsure of. However, her feelings are so intense sometimes that your body reacts like clockwork.

What you feel after hearing her voice is sheer terror. Who is this woman that even a villainess like Y/N is even afraid of? You can’t open your eyes as if your body is doing it unconsciously, unmoving like a doll to protect itself. Someone is coming closer.

You feel a prick on your forearm and your eyes fly open due to the pain. Her name appears in your mind as soon as you see her face and some of Y/N’s memories flood your head regarding that nasty woman. She triggers something dark in your eyes to appear.

Your nanny, Biwon.

“Wake up. Are you planning to sleep till the afternoon?” Biwon lets out a fake troubled sigh and her eyes are full of arrogance when you meet them you freeze completely at the sight.

“I’m sorry nanny.” Your mouth moves on its own like a broken record. It feels like this is not the first time she wakes Y/N up with a prick of a needle and the apology comes to her like second nature. Y/N’s attitude shows all kinds of trauma of being abused. How is it that this was never mentioned in the novel? While not much was mentioned about how she grew up you would think this is a piece of important information to have.

“Wash your face the duke requested to have breakfast with you for some reason.” She left without giving you any kind of assistance like a maid should do. At last, the water in the basin is ice cold to the touch and murky it manages to wake you up completely from shock.

You’re not just imagining it. Biwon has complete power over Y/N even though she’s the lady of the house.

You knew that the other maids avoided Y/N because of her temperament but to think that she’s been through manipulation and abuse by someone so close to her. Because Biwon is the one who spent the most time next to Y/N ever since she was a child everyone buys her lies. No one pays attention to Y/N, not her father or her brother.

She has no one to rely on in this household.

Biwon deliberately made her isolated in her own home so she could control and exploit her. Her malicious plan is clear to you after observing the situation objectively. What else is there that was not mentioned in the novel? Things might be more complicated than you thought.

However, this is not the time to ponder over this. You need to get ready alone. It didn’t take you long to realise Biwon forbids the maids from helping you so you can embarrass yourself in front of your family. While the real Y/N would have problems with getting dressed and being presentable without help as she’s a noble – there’s one tiny fault in your nanny’s plan – that she has no idea that you’re a modern woman who can wear her own fucking dress and get ready all by herself. She has a lot of extravagant dresses, so you had a hard time choosing but then something caught your eye. This dress has been buried deep in your wardrobe, a solid light cream-coloured dress with an elegant bow in the front. This is the perfect dress.

You do light makeup to match the dress and leave your long hair down after brushing it. While you were getting dressed you saw the countless bruises on your skin and your right arm was full of holes from the needle your nanny used to stab you with to wake you up. It’s good that the dress is long-sleeved. There’s no way the maids don’t know about your abuse since they bathe you. So, your guess is they are either the nanny’s people or they just simply don’t care enough to tell the duke. It’s clear the duke doesn’t care about Y/N so it wouldn’t benefit them to tell him when they could face the wrath of your nanny if she finds out. They think he wouldn’t do anything about it, and you think so too.

You feel compassion for Y/N. She was made to be a villain even if it doesn’t excuse her actions in the end. It’s only been two weeks for you, but she had to endure this for a lifetime.

You’re determined to change her future even more now that you know the truth. You’re going to live for her as well.

Opening the door to your room you find a maid waiting for you to lead you to the dining room as per the duke’s request. She looks taken aback by your neat appearance but doesn’t say anything and just shows you the way.

She dares to walk ahead of you. Even if you want to give her a piece of your mind you hold yourself back, you can’t afford to create a ruckus and be sent back to probation. It’s not that you care about who walks in front of you it’s the meaning of this action that angers you.

You hold back by creating a fist the pain of your nails digging into your palms in half-moon shapes keeps your head clear and controls your bubbling rage. You’re going to show everyone how Y/N won’t bow down anymore. You’re not a doormat that everyone can just walk over.

You’re not going to let everyone disrespect you ever again but to achieve that you need to make a plan and be more patient.

First thing first you need to make the duke care about you to an extent so he will listen to you. Good thing that you know the novel. You might be able to use that information to get what you want. You’re not going to make him like you, you just need to be useful for him to look at you. You’re not sure he would be even capable of liking you in the first place – not that you would want that after he neglected Y/N like that. Talk about loving family, this is just another example of being blood-related sometimes does not matter.

It's not like he’s your real dad anyway.

The dining room is just as fancy as the rest of the mansion. By the time you arrive the duke and your brother are already seated and chatting. The duke is sitting at the head of the table and Seokjin is sitting on his right.

Your tableware is set away from them probably a scheme made by your nanny to keep you isolated.

She must be afraid of why the duke suddenly wanted to dine with you when he usually never bothers to see you. You can’t let this golden opportunity pass like that. You’re going to make the most of it.

“Good morning, Father, Brother. Sorry for being late.” You give them a little courtesy. You’re careful to get your posture nice and graceful like you read in the etiquette book. The nanny purposefully discouraged the young Y/N to skip classes and remain a dumb doll for her to exploit but you’re not going to let her continue to do that.

While your posture is not perfect this will at least show that you’re trying to be as polite as possible.

You stayed up all night for an entire week to study about this new world’s etiquette and history to play your part more convincingly who knew that your knowledge would come in handy in a situation like this? You’re thankful that you decided to study even before you realised the nanny’s schemes.

You school your features to remain passive as you look at the grand duke’s and your brother’s dumb expressive faces. It looks like they are seeing a ghost. Even though you’re annoyed to be bent like that you keep the position until you receive the acknowledgement like a lady should. How annoying that you must bow like that until you are recognised by a man.

“It’s alright. Sit down, Y/N.” The duke gives you a curt nod seemingly flustered that he stared at you for so long. You remind him of his late wife a lot dressed like that. To everyone’s biggest surprise, you take a seat directly on his left side facing your brother.

You remain silent in your seat knowing that the duke’s pride will take a hit if he doesn’t correct the mistake that he didn’t even notice until you sat down. Usually, they wouldn’t care if you sit far away, they would probably think that you were the one who wanted the seat away from them in the first place as a sign of defiance but they can’t deny that you’re the lady of the house so to assume you would sit far away is an arrogant mistake on the servants part.

“What are you waiting for give my daughter a set and bring the food.” Thankfully the duke is just like you expected. He looks annoyed at the servants. His authority is absolute so the maids scurry to bring you some new tableware and bring out the food. The lonely set is forgotten at the rear end of the table. This is the first time you see something so mouthwatering in a while since you were forced to eat in your room and the food, they brought you was not even close to this. Now that you think about it, it was probably some leftover from the kitchen. No wonder Y/N is this thin.

It probably wasn’t even part of her punishment so someone must be stealing the food that is made for Y/N.

It’s hard to control your expression or your body language that is burned into your body by nature. You’re feeling uncomfortable all over that you can’t enjoy the food at all. It’s sad to see how rigid you are in the presence of your supposed family members. You don’t have any appetite even though you feel like you’re starving.

“How are things with Gold Wing? Did you manage to get them to agree with our terms?”

The Gold Wing is under the jurisdiction of the House of Summer. The old man Jung Jeyhun is a greedy man who keeps delaying his son’s succession because he wants to keep his title as an archduke. He’s the hidden boss of this novel. Y/N can’t compare with an evil villain like him. There’s probably no one else who knows he’s backing that trading company. You’re an exception only because you read the novel and know everything about how he wants to be the sole ruler of the Empire. He’s behind many unfortunate events that happen in the novel that no one finds out about until it’s too late.

“No. They’re trying to sell their stones for double the price. Knowing that none of the other companies have that much supply since they bought the rights to the mines.” Your brother looks irritated as if he recalls the meeting with the head of the company vividly.

No wonder they are cocky, they have the backing of House Summer, and they cheated the other rival companies out of the right to produce this type of stone that’s particularly high priced in the first section of the book. This stone is called Stelar which is steel but it’s a novel, so they had to give it a fancy name. Swords here are mainly made from two important ingredients iron or steel, but steel has a longer durability and is easy to craft to different shapes, so they tend to use that instead of iron which is way cheaper because of this fact. The knights used swords made with Stelar but because of the high price, it was hard to come by after the Gold Wing trading company monopolized the rights.

Their goal is to weaken the other three houses’ military power by selling the stones at a high price and getting funds for their territory but it’s not the only reason. The swords they sell are not simply made of Stelar. Steel is an alloy of iron. Iron needs to be mixed with carbon to make steel. They use some steel and put more iron to degrade the quality of the sword which breaks more easily than it should. You remember learning of it in school in your previous life, but these people don’t know of it because the novel has plot holes here and there. Since the novel focuses on the main characters things that are not related to them too much have more freedom to change, and things may differ as the author cannot mention every little thing. This could be what you need to make changes.

The truth that they tempered with the swords that got imported only comes to light when Yoongi investigates the company when he almost loses the battle with the barbarians but that battle only happens when you reach nearly half of the novel. He could tell that there was a difference in quality when he saw the sword break too easily. He made an assumption just by that and the fact that the new sword became heavier due to the added mass of iron.

Even if you feel bad for taking credit for his discovery you need to use that information, he finds out later so you can survive in this household.

“May I speak up, father?” You heard enough to grasp the current situation. You need to speak up before you lose your courage.

“What can you even contribute to this conversation?” Your brother looks angry that he got interrupted. In your eyes he’s not scary he’s just a big child throwing a tantrum when things don’t go his way. You decide to calmly face him even if you have to hide your nervousness by clasping your hands together under the table for comfort. Still can’t control the original Y/N’s physical reactions.

“I don’t think I asked brother.”

The duke raises his hand to silence Jin before he can spit out angrier remarks. The moment you appeared and gracefully bowed wearing your mother’s dress the duke could tell that something about you just became different. The air around you is filled with determination.

He got reports of you acting unusually tame so he asked you to dine together and see it for himself.

Your eyes that only reflected the world around it suddenly became full of will to live.

He’s curious to hear what you have to say. Usually, you wouldn’t speak unless you were spoken to. “Do you perhaps have a good idea of how to deal with them?” He proposes fully giving you his attention.

“The problem is that we don’t have Stelar to make swords for the knights, right? I suggest we find a mine suitable to harvest the stones we need that way we don’t have to depend on the trading company.”

“Are you a fool? Do you think if we could produce it, we would continue to make this ridiculous deal work?” You’re getting tired of your brother always cutting in. You can’t get angry though. The first thing you need to change is how people see you and you can’t get angry because the people around you will call you a temperamental child even if your anger is justified. They wouldn’t care either way they just want to belittle you. You just need to not allow them to do so.

“We have a place like that in our territory that could be suitable. I can mark it on a map if you’d like.” Even though the duke might be suspicious of how you know of a place like that he will investigate either way. This deal is too good to pass up on.

In hopes of discovering a new mine, he will even accept the flimsy lie of you just discovered it by reading some book and looking at maps.

“Alright. I will instruct the knights to check it out. If what you said is true, I will reward you.” You nod your head pleased with the outcome of this uncomfortable breakfast.

In the novel the imperial prince comes across the mine in your territory when he’s running away from assassins and due to his discovery, he gets praised by the king for solving a big problem. However, if you find the mine first that puts you in a favourable position with the other houses and even the king if you give the stones at a lower price making the Gold Wing trading company lose its base customers by making better deals.

Thankfully that painful breakfast comes to an end soon as father’s aid whispers something into his ear. He leaves in a hurry which makes you think it’s about something important and work-related.

Your brother leaves without saying a word so you can finally enjoy your food alone.

Ever since you came to this place you’ve never been this full before, it puts you in a fairly good mood. You even managed to grab the duke’s attention and for once got something more filling than stale bread.

All you need to do is wait until the mine is discovered and now that one thing is out of the way you need to start with disciplining your maids and get your nanny kicked out. Biwon had a good life here up to this point because now that you’re here you will make it a living hell for her, and that’s a promise.

“What did you talk about with the duke?” You’re not surprised to find your nanny in your room when you get back. She looks anxious you can see how her nails are bitten and she slightly thumps her foot. You got back early so if you tell her some half-truths, she won’t suspect you that much.

“He didn’t talk to me at all. He only talked with my brother about work that I don’t understand. I don’t know why they keep ignoring me. You’re the only one who cares about me, nanny.” Good thing that the maids left after serving the meal, you would be in trouble if someone overheard you and you were caught lying. You bury your head in her apron to conceal your disgusted expression when she caresses your head.

You need to act like usual, so she won’t suspect a thing. If her guard is down, it will be easier for you to make your move.

You can easily produce some fake tears for the greater good.

“That’s right, only I care about you. Who else would love a useless child like you.” You bite your tongue to hold back when Biwon hugs you. You agree with her even if you want to break her arms that hugs you like a shameless person.

Biwon doesn’t use needles on you again to erase her marks since you started to dine with the duke. Thankfully she doesn’t realise what you’re planning.

The mine you talked about last time turned out to be true and the duke was very happy to get back at the Gold Wing trading company. He started to make a profit thanks to you, and he even listened to your suggestion of lowering the price to sell it to the other houses. Developing the mining ground consumes a lot of money at the moment but the profit will be greater than ever if it’s finished. You asked to have dinner with them every day as a reward which made him look surprised. He reluctantly agreed when you asked to make your contribution a secret for now you can’t let your nanny hear about it just yet. The duke probably thought he would buy you some clothes and accessories and you will be all set. Unfortunately for them, you don’t care about luxuries especially if it comes from them.

While you would prefer to not eat with them you need to show the staff that you’re indeed the lady of the house. Now they are giving you the bare minimum of respect after the maid got scolded by your father after the tableware incident.

You didn’t think Jin would come after you excused yourself from the meal. Right when you leave the dining room your brother appears halting you in your step and grabbing your hand forcefully to stop you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in a hurry so dressed up?” Your wrist throbs in his hold. That bastard how could he grab the hand of his sister so hard? Compared to him your body is so small you look like a child next to him. You’re not surprised since you were malnourished before. You’re sure it will bruise badly but you refuse to show him that he’s hurting you.

“I believe it’s none of my brother’s business where I go in my free time.” You look into his eyes with confidence. Y/N was always longing for her brother’s love but you’re not the real Y/N and you will never consider him your brother, so his attitude doesn’t bother you at all emotionally. He simply became a person you’re forced to live with and tolerate for now.

If everything is over you will cut ties with them for good.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since your probation. If this is your way of seeking attention from father or I, that will never happen no matter what you’re scheming.”

Using the moment of his surprise you get out of his hold and get farther away from him. Your smile says it all. ‘I don’t consider you a brother so go to hell’. You’re getting angry but you refuse to show him any reaction even if you can’t exactly control the fire in your eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that. I don’t consider people who neglect and belittle me my family at all. I don’t need your love or attention anymore.” You show him your back confidently as you walk away from his frozen form.

“Gaon prepare some indigestion medicine for me. Is the carriage ready?” Jin catches your voice talking to your maid still frozen on the spot you left him.

Your eyes looked different. When you were young you used to beg for his affection always clinging to him but now. Why does it look like you despise him and why does it bother him?

He never felt anything for you for a very long time.

“Yes, my lady everything is like you instructed.” You nod satisfied by the way things progress.

Now there’s only one thing left to do.

You’re on your way to meet with the head of the blacks information guild. The only one who could top the Gold Wing trading company by power would be them. The blacks is one of the largest information-selling guilds – trading only to deceive people and hide the fact that they know everything that can be known throughout the empire.

They have men everywhere. The head is conveniently the second young master of house Autumn who currently stays in House Summer territory. Jeon Jungkook is clever enough to know that information is the most important thing to have the upper hand this is how he was able to survive the battle for succession.

It will be probably dangerous to meet him but you will have to take this gamble on if you want things to work out you need the backing of the most powerful guild in the empire.

Convenient that the duke doesn’t care about Y/N’s safety so you don’t need to play hide and seek with the guards you can do your business without getting interrupted. If you say you don’t need an escort, they back off immediately and let you leave.

Following the novel’s description, you look for a house with a red chimney and a black door away from the main streets. Once you find it you have to knock two then three times until someone asks, “Are you lost?” and you have to reply with “Yes can you tell me where can I find black paint?” - and you’re in.

It’s only a select few that know about this code so Jungkook will be suspicious of how a lady with a bad reputation knows about it, but you came to make a deal that he can’t refuse. You can talk around the fact of how you know about their secret entrance.

As you expected Jungkook came himself to greet you, you could recognise that brown hair and emerald eyes anywhere.

“Please have a seat. I prepared some tea.” His smile is pleasant but calculating. His intentions are clear unlike when you talk to your blood relatives, so you’re surprisingly relaxed in his presence. Jungkook is intrigued by your body language. Usually, people are distrustful of him because of his mask. Your eyes tell him that you know more than you look.

“I have a request to make. I would like to know what this liquid is and any information that you can get on it or the bottle.” Jungkook is said to like straightforward people, so you try to be confident.

Jungkook laughs seeing your confidence. You exceed his expectations he heard that you’re stupid and extravagant with a bad temper, but it seems like his information is outdated. That needs to change he smirks.

He gives you credit for realising he wields information. Usually, people come to his guild to do business. Not many know that the purpose of the blacks is different.

“How much will you pay me for the information?”

“I heard I can pay with information for information. I have something important to tell you anyway.”

“Oh.” People rarely have any information that he doesn’t already know but you look so confident that he has to humour you. “Please enlighten me.” Taking a relaxed laid-back pose he awaits your answer.

“The head of the Gold Wing trading company is the current Duke of House Summer and he has a spy in your guild.” The only reason the blacks are not at the top is because of the upper hand they gain from the spy. No one would suspect that Jungkook’s right-hand man is a spy. He causes the guild’s destruction near the end of the novel. Heartbroken from the betrayal Jungkook is stabbed by him in the end.

Jungkook grips the side of the sofa after hearing your daring words until the wood slightly splits. He doesn’t usually trust people so to think that someone betrayed him feels impossible.

“I’m not saying that without evidence. There’s a tree in the back looking directly at the alleyway if you dig the dirt near the roots, you will find a letter with a coded message it was placed there this afternoon so you have to look for it before sunrise. I swear on my life that if I lie to you, you have the right to kill me.” The only way he will believe you is if you match the sacrifice for your accusation. Your life is on the line, but you know you’re right.

Or that you hope it’s the same as in the novel.

Jungkook instructs one of his men to look for the tree. He visibly pales when he sees the man come back with a dirty envelope. He reads the letter with a face of indifference, but you know he is furious deep inside and somewhat sad. Trust is not easily given away by him.

“Who— ” Jungkook closes his eyes to compose himself. “Who is the spy?” He appears distraught which is normal considering the fact you just dumped on him suddenly.

You hesitate for a moment. You know this information will hurt him, but he is entitled to the truth – and you do this to save his life in the end. “It’s Sam.”

You can tell it hit him hard but you don’t think he doesn’t believe you. He might get angry and it’s really not your place to intervene. However, you know this feeling very well. Being betrayed by someone you trusted. If nothing else you can sympathise with that feeling.

“Please excuse my rudeness.” You tell before you impulsively side-hug him. He’s so surprised by your embrace that he doesn’t try to push you away immediately. You’re so warm and your hand is comforting on his back. He doesn’t know you, but it feels like you understand him to some extent.

He closes his eyes and lets this moment pass by. Hidden from prying eyes it’s just – you and him for this moment.

At last, he composes himself and accepts your request. He even gives you a pendant that’s only given to the highest-ranking customers saying that your information is worth that much.

It’s a pretty pendant with a black snake on it. Looks like a masterpiece.

Thankfully nothing out of the ordinary happened while you were out. You were able to enjoy some snacks when you got back in peace as your nanny was on vacation.

You need to make your move while Biwon is away your plan needs to be done by the time she gets back. Thanks to the blacks information guild – you were able to identify the liquid your nanny made you drink every day — you only had to wait two days to hear from them.

Your discovery is enraging and liberating at the same time.

It helped you put the pieces together and even gave you an advantage to work with. To finally know the full truth of what happened to Kim Y/N. This could be a good explanation for why you couldn’t access all her memories or why some things become hazy the longer you thought about it.

Life was way too cruel for a girl like Y/N.

Now that you’ve set up the stage you just need to wait for the protagonists to arrive.

Biwon seems relaxed after her vacation; she probably enjoyed a luxurious life out of the jewellery she stole from you. You’re getting sick just from seeing her smile. It must have felt good to be able to look down on a noble lady and make Y/N cater to her all this time, exploiting a poor young lady. To think that all those rumours come from her to isolate and degrade her. She should smile while she can you think smirking through the rim of your cup.

Now’s showtime.

The taste of tea is familiar in your mouth. Due to double the dose of the liquid she made you drink each morning the symptoms came earlier than you anticipated. Suddenly getting on the drug after you stopped taking it is a huge risk, but you need to prove her involvement in the crime.

You didn’t think it would hurt this much though. Your head clouded over soon, and your body collapsed on the floor in tremor.

Gaon called the doctor immediately as you instructed and while you were getting examined your other trusted maid planted the evidence in your nanny’s room. It didn’t take long to see Biwon try to escape your trap, but it was too late when the knights found the medicine bottle.

She had nowhere to run to.

You regained consciousness but it was hard for you to open your eyes yet. The pain you felt in your abdomen felt unbearable, but you need to see this through till the end.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice this. To tell the truth, the lady came to me often to ask for headache medicine.” You could feel the worry in the doctor’s voice. You feel bad for suspecting him at first. He might be the only one to actually care for Y/N in this forsaken house.

“This drug is called blackroot it’s made from a rare flower that was used in a war experiment in the past. The characteristic of the flower is that it can manipulate the mind – it makes the user unable to control their temper and creates hazy thoughts. While it works as a brainwashing technique it has all kinds of side effects such as explosive temper, haziness, headaches, loss of appetite and memory loss. The longer someone takes it the more fragile that person will become.”

No wonder Y/N is this thin. When you first heard about this drug you felt incredibly furious to make her take such a dangerous drug just because Biwon was greedy for things she couldn’t have.

Once the dizziness subsided you were able to open your eyes it seemed like the medicine the doctor gave you had some effect. The pain is still there but your head is clearer.

“I- didn’t do this! I was framed!” Biwon begs on her knees in front of the duke and young master but seeing their reactions no one actually buys that half-hearted accusation. Serves her right.

You made sure to get solid evidence of her crime.

You’re able to sit up thanks to Gaon’s help and you look down upon your nanny with a hard expression.

You cannot believe this is finally over.

Now no one will dare to take advantage of you after this incident comes to light. It won’t make your reputation restored to how it was before but at least it will provide you with a good opportunity to show the people around you that you’re different without having to fear someone figuring out you’re not the real Y/N.

“Have the witnesses come forward.” The maid who is questioned is shaking like a leaf in front of the duke.

“Who served Y/N tea?” Jin comes forward to interrogate the maids. For some reason, he looks livid. It’s probably because of their pride. How dare they manipulate the duke’s daughter a mere maid. – they probably think like that.

“The nanny always prepares the tea for the lady in the morning. No one was allowed to touch it I swear I didn’t know that the lady’s tea had blackroot in it.”

“That’s right, we were never allowed to serve her tea or be present when she made it we would be only called when the lady was about to get dressed.” If they were present at all you think for yourself as you roll your eyes.

“N- No! That…” Biwon looks around like a cornered animal. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. No, you promised the real Y/N that you would not let her go so easily.

“I’ve heard enough. Drag her to the underground dungeon.” After hearing the duke’s command, the knights drag Biwon out of the room. Finally, some quiet. Your head is killing you.

“Everyone leave, now. My daughter needs to rest.” As if seeing it on you that you’re nearly at your limits the grand duke instructs everyone to let you be.

Everyone leaves except for one person. Jin looks torn as he contemplates what to say to his sister.

You know the reason why Jin treated Y/N with contempt is because of that incident in the past. Y/N mad because of withdrawal symptoms from the drug called him a monster. She told him that because of him their mother died, and she even threw a teacup in his face that made him bleed. In reality, she partially blamed him for being forgotten and emotionally abused. After that Jin ignored her altogether. While saying those things are hash and not justified because of the drugs the behaviour of her brother is not something that you can overlook either. There’s no clear line to determine what’s right or wrong. You can’t simply judge if someone deserves forgiveness as it entirely depends on the person who’s granting it.

There are no right or wrong answers.

Their relationship was probably a bad fate. You’re not his sister so you have no intention of making up with him even though he’s wearing that pitiful expression. You feel bad for Y/N but you’re not going to live as her shadow forever. Once this story ends you will leave this kingdom and live as yourself. To make that happen you need to keep your relationship with Y/N’s family distant just like before so you could leave without problems in the future.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N has memories of when her brother spoke to her softly like this. Too bad it’s too late for Y/N to see this. You pull your hand away when he tries to hold it.

“This doesn’t change a thing between you and me. I would appreciate it if you could ignore me like before.” You turn away not inclined to see that pitiful expression on his face anymore.

Thankfully he leaves without a fuss this time.

Things are only growing more awkward as time passes. You made the suggestion of dining with them every day to avoid being punished by Biwon, but it comes back to bite you in the ass now that she’s gone, and no one dares to bother you anymore. You ignore the looks of pity you receive from the staff. They were the ones who ignored and badmouthed you. They have no right to take pity on you at all.

Those who did not try to see the truth don’t deserve to feel regretful.

It's annoying to see the duke and your brother try to get closer to you. They have no idea what Y/N had to go through while they were living in their blissful ignorance.

You wonder if things would have been different if she had been born as a boy in this period. Women are often ill-fated. How tragic.

“Your birthday is coming up in a few months. Do you have something in mind about how you want the celebration banquette?” Your fork freezes in the air when the duke calls you.

While you don’t want a party it would be good to build your reputation. You have no choice but to have one.

“I’ll prepare for it. Thank you for your concern.” You keep your eyes on the food. After taking that double dose your appetite seems to be worse than before. You need to gain some weight, you’re too thin as it is.

“Don’t worry about the budget just prepare how you like.” You’re getting dizzy this is getting bad you overestimated and thought some rest was all you needed. You need to take better care of yourself if you want to beat the final boss of the story. This is about time you meet with your favourite character as well. You need to look your best even if he only glances at you for a second. You’re getting excited just thinking about him.

“Alright. Excuse me I’m full.” You step away from the table to leave and prepare for the upcoming events when you lose your sight for a moment. Thankfully the head butler catches you in time that you’re not faceplanting the floor this moment.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You push the old man away with reddened ears. This is so embarrassing.

“I’ll carry you to your room.” Your hand automatically holds onto your brother when he suddenly picks you up, to keep your balance. Now you’re really getting tired of their sudden act of affection.

“I said. I’m fine.” You pursue your lips in a frown when he keeps ignoring you to let you down.

“You can hate me all you want. I deserve it but I’m not letting you down.” You’re speechless. At least he knows. It doesn’t matter if he has regrets now that you solved everything.

If it weren’t for your effort and sacrifice things would have been left alone and you would be still suffering without anyone to rely on at the hands of your greedy nanny.

They can feel guilty all they want; it doesn’t change a thing. If anything, you’re feeling angrier about how they think they have the right to make things right after everything that has happened.

It’s bothersome.

“It won’t change anything. No matter how hard you try I’ll never consider you as family again. Not after you and father abandoned me. You don’t know anything about me or how much I suffered. If you didn’t care then don’t care now.” It’s probably hard to hear and somewhat you feel guilty for saying that since you don’t know what Y/N would have wanted but this is how you feel.

You’re torn about what you should do.

This is supposed to be your home when you feel the safest.

However, you can’t remember a single good memory or a time when you felt relaxed in this place. It just makes you sad.

“I understand.” His hand around you tightens just a tiny bit before he relaxes his posture and the hands that hold you gently. At least he’s not trying to come up with excuses. He knows fully well that what you told him was the truth. They have no idea how much you had to suffer since they kept ignoring you. His heart is getting heavy when he realises how light his sister feels in his arms. A woman in her twenties should weight a lot more than this. He’s carrying you with care and gently places you on top of your bed. You have no intention of getting closer to him, but it’s been bothering you for a while ever since you saw that memory. You feel like they don’t deserve your kindness. You wonder if Y/N would be forgiving. If she would be able to embrace them and trust them again. You know you can’t.

“You’re not a monster and I’m sorry for saying that so stop thinking about useless things.” You impulsively grab his hand before he can leave. This is all you can give him as an apology – you know Y/N probably would have wanted him to hear that at least. Something wavers in his eyes. You didn’t think such a small gesture would make him cry. Now that you think about it probably no one said such words to him before. His biggest fear. From an early age, he always heard that his mother died because of him. It shouldn’t be a small child’s fault. It makes you feel like this whole family is just unfortunate.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Jin holds your hand with shaking fingers. You can clearly feel his tears fall as he pushes his face into your palm seeking some comfort. You don’t know how but you can feel that this apology is sincere. You don’t have the heart to push him away this time.

Just this once you will allow it.

“The captain of the imperial guards shouldn’t cry like this.” You pat his head while he cries. Seeing such a powerful figure crying into your skirt on his knees feels weird.

He hadn’t left for a while and even when he did, he looked reluctant. You could tell what he was thinking without having to hear him say it. He’s afraid that the next time you see him you will push him away and avoid him. Your hand on his head and your words comforted him. He’s the one who did wrong but, in the end, you helped him instead deal with his biggest fear a little better.

He realises that he doesn’t deserve such a good sister as you.

His sudden resolve and earnest eyes make you bite your lips in worry. You know it won’t be good when he suddenly turns around with fiery passion. “I, Kim Seokjin give my oath to Kim Y/N that I will protect you for as long as I live. If I break my promise, I’m willing to die a miserable death.” This is your first time seeing someone give their knight’s oath. His hands are elegantly placed over his heart in a kneeling position and his eyes are fierce and honest. Stupid brother, you’re not the one he should give his oath to!

That was not your intention to make him so motivated. You should really learn how to ignore things in the future if you want to avoid bothersome situations like this. It’s not like you can reject him now either.

After he finally left because of work called you collapsed on your bed.

You can’t believe he gives you the knight’s oath instead of the female lead. He’s supposed to fall in love with her and be the miserable second male lead. You expect that things will be different if you change your destiny, but such drastic changes make you anxious for the future development of the plot.

Thankfully your favourite character was not caught up in the love triangle since his territory is the farthest away from the capital. He doesn’t frequent gatherings because of his inability to fully control his powers, and he has a bad reputation overall because of his war achievements and fearful power. Throughout the novel, he is described as someone who doesn’t care about women and is only fixed to find a way to control his abilities.

Min Yoongi you can’t wait to see him at the upcoming hunting festival.

Everything becomes normal and quiet.

Your daily life is better except for the torturous dinners with your family. Thankfully Jin is busy with imperial work and your father manages his new business and duties as a duke, so you don’t have to run into them too much inside the house.

In two or three days you make a trip to see Jungkook and get useful information and sometimes chat over some tea.

What’s next on your list is to gather personal intel on people who will attend the hunting festival. The fact that this is organised by the Duke of Summer is making you anxious. You remember some crazy shit happen around that time and his main target will be your favourite character. Min Yoongi.

Trying not to look too obsessed with a man you’ve never met before you decided to look over his information last.

There’s not much that could be gathered on him (even by a professional information broker as the North keeps their gates locked skin-tight) in the first place the info that your eyes skim through is less than you expected even with the additional stuff that you know because of the novel is limited mostly to his childhood and main events which is not much at all.

He wasn’t present in all the episodes but when he’s involved – well, things were never good.

You don’t know all the archduke’s special abilities which is a concern. You know Min Yoongi can read minds. The limitation to his power is that he has to touch the person to hear all the thoughts but with malicious intent, it doesn’t even need that.

It makes him the second most powerful ability user since he can detect lies and see one’s true self. Someone has to be well aware of his ability to hide something from him.

His special skill is to tell what the other person is thinking good or bad but that means that he could hardly hear his own thoughts. The world is never silent for his ears and that has its consequences. What little is known of them in the outside world is that all the Min descendants had gone mad at some point in their lives and chose to kill themselves when there was another person that could take over the Ducey or their son became of age if they were lucky to hold on until then. Min Yoongi’s tragic childhood is summarised in a few sad lines in the novel it was not overly detailed, but you remember feeling sad.

Whilst your survival is the priority you want to change Yoongi’s fate as well if it’s possible. Even if he’s not going to madly fall in love with you. You want him to have a happy life and not end as tragically as in the novel. You liked his character a lot. Even when he was faced with such hardships, he never gave up he would never succumb to the same fate as his father, and he held on until the last moment of his life.

You admired his determination to live.

You want to do the same with your second chance and hold on until the last moment trying to change your fate.

Who knows maybe you could overcome it together.

So many scenarios run through your head imagining how you will greet him when you finally meet him, what you will say to him. All of those restless nights couldn’t have been wrong when you’re finally faced with him. None of them could get you ready for that hard cold stare that he shows you.

You practically burst open the carriage door after the chaperone states that you’ve arrived.

Being in the same space as your brother and father acting all cute and considerate for almost four full hours made you want to let the ground swallow you whole and never want to see the sun again.

This is when you first make eye contact with him – or so you think. His eyes visibly slip over your face as if he’s not even seeing you just looking through you like you’re one tree of the dozens curving the landscape. It hurts your pride a lot to be invisible to your favourite character, but you gulp it down and hold your head high when you exit the carriage.

You knew it well that he was that type of person, but it didn’t mean it still did not hurt you to see it with your own eyes. There’s one thing to say he’s not interested in women but in reality, it felt like he’s not into humans – not just women. Hearing everyone’s thoughts might be a reason why he would be so over humans that he doesn’t even want to acknowledge them but damn.

Now that you see him and not just read about him you can tell two things already. One, he’s crazy handsome. The lines that describe how good-looking he is does not give him justice. Two, the lines in the novel are too tame to describe how much he loathes to see and interact with anyone. It’s almost comical how disgust is written all over his face when he has to shake hands with nobles or greet the young ladies.

That face still has many admirers even when his expression is a permanent frown all the time. Most likely to his greatest disapproval, he’s very popular with the ladies despite his bad reputation.

You can imagine how annoying it must be for him. Forgetting how you felt hurt before you even started to feel bad for him. His circumstances are unique and, in fact, no one knows what he has to deal with every single day. Even though you know you don’t really know what it feels like.

You’re contemplating how to approach him to not get immediately shut down or seem too suspicious when some of the ladies have you locked in a circle. Seeing their arrogant expressions, you could already tell what would happen when they finally opened their mouths.

“What a surprise to see you attend this year. Are you even allowed to be outside yet?”

You grit your teeth and smile at them.

It’s a waste to argue with them and you’re not here to let them bully you. You came here to see your favourite character and they are already dampening your mood.

“The ladies might need to check their eyesight soon. I arrived here with my brother and father so if you have complaints about me being here you could always go to them.” You speak with a permanent smile but there’s nothing friendly in your expression as you cross them leaving the circle of hyenas behind you.

They’re lesser nobles of course they wouldn’t dare complain to them. Your family is powerful after all one of the four most powerful people in the kingdom is your father. They targeted you specifically because you were an easy target so far too dumb to attack them with words like they do, and Y/N's violent temper just served the right purpose to belittle her and make her the most hated woman in high society. You’re not going to give them the chance to humiliate you anymore. They are just extras in a novel.

The thought alone makes you smile. Right. You’re the main villain in this novel but you’re going to turn it into your story so that you can be the main character in your life.

Something that you always wanted to try.

The first day goes by without incident. After the second day of the hunting festival starts the hunting begins and activities for both the ladies and men begin slowly but surely following the original plot of the novel.

Until there’s a big error occurring in the middle. You don’t remember any banquet happening to welcome the most influential families. This could mean that it wasn’t relevant to the main plot to mention, or things changed somehow and now there’s a sudden dinner plan made by someone.

There’s a banquet held for the four archdukes and their families and while you’re thrilled that you’re seated right across from your favourite character you were not expecting him to death glare you right in front of your salad.   

To your best knowledge you haven’t even greeted him yet so why does he look like he wants to murder your entire family? You’re unsure.

At some point, you stop avoiding him and look him in the eye but still, you can’t read his expression at all.  

You feel like you don’t have to emphasise that you couldn’t eat a single thing at that dinner in peace.

You jump when a man approaches you in the empty hallway and when you look at him something clicks in your mind, now that you think about it you can recognise this man from anywhere. He’s Namjoon his right-hand man the only person that he tolerates.

“You scared the living shit out of me.” You’re so surprised that you don’t check your language before it’s already out in the open. Your eyes are wide as you look at the man probably thinking that you’re a weird person. Shit. Now you’ve done it. You tried so hard until now to remain in character and not use slang words or bad language.

Which is hard on their own as you breathe and live with words that end in fuck most likely than not.

The struggles of a modern woman. Haah.

“I mean you should not hide in the shadows like an assassin ready to strike Mr. You scared me.” You try to put the blame on him entirely so he would forget your previous words and it seems to work as he’s quick to apologise and state his business.

“Duke Min would like to speak with you. If you could please follow me, I will lead you to him.” You narrow your eyes after Namjoon finishes his sentence. Him wanting to see you is very weird.

Why?

“Does this have to do with him glaring at me throughout dinner?” You take a step back narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the man. Even though he’s just the messenger you can’t help but ask. You and him being alone after you witnessed his personality might not be the best idea even if he’s still your favourite character. You don’t want to die by his hands either.

“He.. the duke has a difficult personality but he’s not a bad person. I’m sure he’s just interested in the lady.” You can tell that Namjoon really believes that but for some reason you can’t picture him being interested in you. Y/N might be pretty but the duke is not that kind of person to be captivated by something so shallow as that. That has to be a different reason why he wants to talk with you in private and while you’re anxious.

You decide its best to see what he wants.

Also, he’s not someone that anyone can just say no to. He will most likely force you to meet him. It might be your best option to get this over with and see where this conversation goes. If it even goes anywhere. He’s a practical person like that.

You’re anxious and excited at the same time as you follow Namjoon just a step behind.

“Who are you?” You’re perplexed to meet with this type of question. He cornered you without warning, both his hands were caging your hip, your backside digging into the edge of the table.

You’re scared and strangely excited to be this close. Your heart is beating heavily trying to break out from your ribcage.

“Kim Y/N.” You reply dumbly while still trying to process this sudden change in his behaviour and his closeness to you.

You were greeting him first and suddenly you’re completely caged in.

“Kim? Is Duke Kim your father?” You would find his furrowing brows adorable if you weren’t so close to witnessing it. His scent is overpowering your senses, and your faces are just a hair's breadth away from touching – your favourite character makes it hard for you to think straight. Air is caught in your lungs when he holds you by your chin tilting your head up to meet with his eyes.

“Y-Yes.” You’re unsure what he wants to hear from you. From the moment you stepped into his office, he kept questioning you without answering any of yours in return.

“Am I interrupting something?” Both of your gazes turn to face a surprised Kim Namjoon standing by the door. He looks exactly like he just got here and witnessed something weird happening. You can’t blame him for it, you’re surprised as well. Min Yoongi keeps acting weird. He looks somewhat bewitched as he keeps looking between you and Namjoon almost bordering to look crazy in your eyes for a moment.

As if he’s in a deep thought about something mind breaking discovery.

Yoongi didn’t hear his right hand man coming at all but what’s even weirder than that is he can’t hear his thoughts at all.

It all started when he tried to read this woman’s mind throughout the dinner celebration but failed while everyone’s else mind spoke to him clearly. He found it strange for her to be the only exception. As if she has a shield around her mind that doesn’t allow his power to penetrate. The Kim family’s power is to neutralize other powers (everyone is aware of it as the family never tried to hide it) but that can’t be the answer since he could hear their thoughts all the same as you have to be aware of the power you’re trying to block but no one knows that he can read minds.

But now upon making contact with her, he can’t even hear what others are thinking. Which could mean her power is even more rare compared to her family. Everything is quite like it was never before. It’s unsettling but on the other hand, it’s quiet and peaceful.

A realisation draws on him that Kim Y/N might be the key to finally learning to control this power of his that has been plaguing his generation of heirs and forcing them to live a miserable life until they either take their lives or become insane. Her power acts like a tranquillizer almost. Tasting this peaceful silence Yoongi’s hand curves around her waist more protectively. Protective of this silence he’s experiencing for the first time in his life.

He will do anything to keep this woman by his side from now on. He comes to a firm resolution on the spot.

“Be my wife.” To say you feel shocked after hearing that would be an understatement. This is not your usual love confession, and you know it. There’s nothing tender in his words or expression if anything it feels like a business transaction to you.

It’s clear he’s proposing an arranged marriage kind of deal where you both get something out of it but you’re not fond of the idea. In your previous life, you never had a real boyfriend whilst you dated here and there. Someone you could say is the love of your life you never once experienced that feeling, and you don’t want a marriage in your second life without love. You decided to do anything you wanted from now on.

“I’m sorry but I have to refuse your proposal. I won’t marry a man I know is not in love with me and I don’t love him either. This is not something I want.” Too shocked to reply you use that time to get out of his hold and get away before he regains his senses after getting rejected. He probably didn’t think anyone would dare to say no to him as he was aware to be popular with the ladies. This just makes you even more unique as it was anyone else, they would have said yes immediately to an offer like that. Namjoon gets out of your way as you leave, his mouth hanging open still trying to process that the man who notoriously hates women suddenly asked for a lady’s hand in marriage and getting brutally rejected by one at the same time.

The door shuts behind you abruptly and Yoongi massages his temple with his hands trying to figure out what he did wrong for you to storm out like that. Was his proposal not to your liking? What does it even mean to marry the person you love is beyond his comprehension.

End of part 1.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x you #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts fluff #btsghostie #ksmutclub

[randombtsprincessa]

Backseat of my Rover

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 4k

Genre: Smut

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: You are trapped in an uncomfortable sitting position. Can Namjoon help make it better?

Playlist: banks - meteorite

Content Advisory - Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Crack, Comedy, Lap Sex, Fingerfucking, Public Sex, Accidental Voyeurism

A/N:  It's BEEN SO LONG! This is one of my Nano works and I am slowly getting back into writing! Gif by yours truly, it sucks I K

The stadium location rang with screaming ARMYs, piercing the ears of the people working without earpieces or the ones who remained backstage. You were one of them, standing just meters from the blackout drapes that hid the beloved idols once their jobs were done. Once these drapes fell, so did the men, wheezing to get oxygen into their lungs after having given it their all.

Your hands covered your ears, providing meager protection against the uproar outside. The end of the encore saw that blessed curtain falling for a few moments, letting the boys get into some warmer clothing before they made a reappearance. Towels soaking up sweat, water bottles clutched in one hand and a microphone in another, they beamed at their galaxy of lovers, cameras pointing to catch every single facet of a glance.

You wondered yet again how they managed to keep that smile going when they knew that the moment they stepped foot outside, the media would rip into those precise smiles for anything to smear them with. It was madness. But it was a madness that they worked hard for - and perhaps, in some deep, dark crevice of their soul - they even felt benefited by it. It certainly seemed to pay off every time they graced the threshold of a dignitary hoping to harness the power of a vast multitude.

Tearing your eyes from the hypnotic wave of swaying people, you turned to look at the leader of BTS.

Kim Namjoon commanded the attention of the people in the room the moment he decided to raise the mic to his mouth, taking a few puffs of breath before shouting for the fandom.

The response was immediate, renewed zeal coloring the resounding yells.

“What a night, really!” He finally began, waving a hand to his grinning members. “I am, as usual, speechless with the support that you guys always shower us with. You’d think someday I’d get used to it, right?” He aimed a wink at one of the nearest fan cameras, essentially making the woman blush and shy away. “Ah, but no, it is better every single time and it’s more every single time.”

Your hands had migrated to your mouth now, covering a sheepish smile as you blatantly tuned him out. While Kim Namjoon was in no way predictable, you had to admit that you found it - extensively - difficult to focus when he…well, when he looked like that.

Namjoon’s ash blond hair stuck up every which way where he had hastily rubbed at it. The band around his head was long gone - the stray strands that fell over his forehead doing more for his disheveled look than the carefully styled grunge do could ever hope to achieve.

You sighed into your hands, lowering them till they now clasped neatly at your front, looking the picture of a doting listener. No one was really paying any attention to you, the stage managers, directors and personnel were too busy eyeing the occupants of the stage with hawk-like precision.

BTS was no amateur, of course, but it was their job. You knew they were very good and dedicated to what they did, but you still had to put up an act just on the off chance someone was bored or distracted and caught you with a dopey look on your face.

While it wouldn’t make a difference - you would never live down the shame of it.

Besides the fact that you happened to be one of the closest friends BTS had, outside of each other, you had been enjoying certain ‘privileges’ as soon as Hybe - then Big Hit - had vetted and checked the OK next to your name.

Merch at a much lower rate discounts at the brands they worked for and tickets to any events you wanted to attend were just scratching the surface and you did not want people to think that you were getting off scot-free for things people paid through the nose for.

You did, but still…

For all you knew, there were mutters about your existence already, with you being over their homes or studios as much as you did. You would still try and make sure they knew you weren’t…being untoward with them.

You weren’t, because over everything, they were your friends, very good friends and you valued them for what they meant to you and the world at large.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t ogle. You just did so covertly.

Plus when your job had started back up, you had even less free time to be over as freely as you had once. You now attended only when you could.

And, somehow, you felt much better about it.

It certainly put a bar over any pesky feelings that had no business being there.

Eyeing Namjoon on the stage, you sighed again.

With the end of the speeches and end moment, the curtains fell again, sweeping the boys into a dark embrace where they could be normal again, just seven men with mighty personas that ruled the world to say the most.

Jimin was the first to reach the backstage, hands shivering as he reached for the piles of water bottles. He nearly tore the cap of one, pouring water into a throat that had sang, shouted, screamed and was probably painfully hoarse.

You watched him from a respectful distance even as Hoseok joined him, the same actions exhibiting just how in need of elements they were. Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon remained on the stage front, no doubt deep in discussion of the concert to find out any chinks that would be addressed in their meetings later on. By the time the two youngest members joined the rest of their members; Jimin had looked up and caught your reflection in the mirror.

“____!” He cried out in surprise, eyes crinkling immediately into a beaming grin.

The call for your name drew attention from the rest of the six boys, similar yells of happy shock ringing out before Taehyung had carefully wrapped you in a bear hug. “You never told us you were coming!” He huffed.

“Yeah, I didn’t know until the last minute that I was.” You laughed, down on your feet again. You presented the small bag of candy that you had brought with you. “I got this for you all as a thank you and ‘I’m very proud’ present.”

“Oh man,” Jungkook was the first to grab it out of your hands. “You got all the good ones, this is the best.” He proceeded to tear into one of his favorite chocolate bars.

“Yah, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi and Jin said at the same time.

The Maknae paused, one cheek ballooning around his mouthful. “Wha`?”

“You just performed a very demanding set. You need water and something light.” Namjoon said calmly.

Jungkook looked down at the bar. “This is light.”

“And healthy,” Hoseok clapped the youngest on the back.

“Guys, five minutes - and then we’re out.” One of their managers poked their head into the conversation, speaking quickly and receding just as fast. Sometimes you marveled at how quick they all were.

“Right,” Namjoon nodded at the man before looking at you. “____ will come with us. We’ll drop you on the way.”

You shook your head when the rest of them agreed. “No, no, I can take a cab. You guys are all tired and need rest. I couldn’t possibly -”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to let you go off alone into the night, ____.” One of their female managers came up. “We can always take you home once we drop the boys. It’s fine. Just come along.”

In the end, you quietly followed the seven to the parking lot where their SUV waited. As usual, they had to divide, a part of them going with a few managers while the rest with other staff members.

The managers were already in, cramped with equipment.

Jin entered first, followed by Yoongi, Hoseok and Taehyung. Namjoon stepped into the vehicle, grunting at the tight fit.

“That’s that.” The woman who had told you to come with said, shutting the door after Joon. She turned to Jimin, “The Rover will take the rest of you.” She said, just as the door of the SUV opened again.

“Hey, if they’re getting a separate car, I should stay with them. It’s a bit of a squeeze here anyway and you can take the others home. They need the rest.”

The woman chewed her lips, considering his request before sighing. She was probably too tired for this as well. “Fine, you won’t have to wait long. I told Sungwon to come as soon as you all came out.” She said, climbing into the place Namjoon had vacated.

The SUV waited till Sungwon came with the Rover, Jimin and Jungkook quickly filing in. You glanced into the car to see the back full of metal boxes, clearly bearing more equipment. That left…

“Ah shit.” Namjoon cursed when he looked in as well. He looked over where the SUV exited, the red tail lights blinking mockingly at them now. “Sungwon-nim, why are the boxes in this car? I thought they keep this for emergencies like these.”

“What to do, Namjoon-ssi; they had all these boxes lying about and Ara told me to pack up what I could. I didn’t think you would need the car today, forgive me.”

Namjoon was quick to dismiss the man’s apology, smiling reassuringly. Then he heaved his own sigh and turned to me.

“Jimin can sit on my lap.” Jungkook piped in suddenly, making the both of you look at him.

“Fuck you, you should be sitting on my lap.” Jimin said immediately.

“I’m way bigger than you.”

“I’m older, you brat!”

“I’ll just squeeze in the back, really, its fine.” You squeaked.

“Nonsense. If anyone should be sitting in the back, it should be one of us.”

“Should I sit in the back and one of you drives?” Sungwon added in, looking amused. That effectively stopped the bickering.

Namjoon thought a moment before muttering a ‘fuck it.’ He clambered into the empty seat. “____, you’ll have to sit on my lap. We can adjust till we get home.”

There was silence.

“Huh?” You said, trying not to look horrified.

“It’s not a big deal. Just sit till we get there.”

“Your legs are already sore from all the dancing you did today.” You crossed your arms. “I’m not sitting on you.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “You’re not that heavy. And I’m not that weak.”

“Yeah, ____,” Jimin grinned at you. “Hyung’s been working out in case something like this happens.”

“Do you want to sit in the back, Jimin-ah?” Namjoon asked.

“____ sit on his lap, please.”

You purse your lips, looking from Jimin to Namjoon in his stubborn glory. You heaved another sigh. You were losing count of those today. “Fine.”

Namjoon had not been lying; you discovered when you proceeded to sit on him. His thighs bulged and shifted under you, muscles moving as he adjusted himself. You kept one hand on the window’s edge, keeping most of your weight off him.

“____,” He admonished when he realized what you were doing. He placed his hands on your shoulder, pressing down till you were actually sitting on his lap.

“This is a long drive, you know. I won’t let you make yourself uncomfortable for all of it.”

“Joon, be reasonable. Just let me sit in the back.”

“No. Stop being ridiculous. Just sit quietly and it’ll be over soon. You can even sleep if you want to.”

True enough, if you leaned back, you could rest your head on his shoulder but as it was, you were already nervous and on edge. So you sat ramrod straight and looked out the front, feeling Namjoon turn his head to stare out the window as they passed the now empty stadium.

The silence of the car soon became comfortable, lulling the worn out occupants of the car into sleep. Jungkook had his head leaning back on the headrest, earphones in while Jimin had curled up already in his seat, shoes off and head cradled in his arms against the side. Small snores now echoed from his side.

You wanted to look back to see if Namjoon was asleep too, to see if you could lift yourself up from him without him realizing. While it was very…kind of the man to offer up his possibly aching legs for you to flop on, you had to admit it felt cruel to do so. Not to mention…weird. You wouldn’t lie and say that you had never found lust in your heart when they wore those ridiculous costumes that (if twitter was anything to go by) made many people gnash their teeth to avoid screaming. You admitted that you stared at your friends and found them hot. But you had always kept it objectively fair.

This though…

You turned your head as best as you could; only managing to see the side of his head. You huffed, trying to move to the front so you could turn properly. Only, you were inhibited by the angle you sat in and the motion of the car. You squiggled, trying to find the best way to look at his face when Namjoon’s hands moved again. This time, they didn’t land on your shoulders. They wrapped along your waist.

“____, what are you trying to do?”

His voice was low, husky in your ear and you had to fight back the shiver it brought.

“Um, I was just checking to see if you were awake.”

“Why?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to admit that you were about to get off him. You’d sit on the floor of the car if it came to that. “I’m sorry I woke you.” You whispered instead.

“Oh, you woke me alright.” His hands were still on your waist, warm and snug, keeping you still on him when you felt it.

Oh…oh dear…

“Um, Joon?” You hedged, freezing on him when you realized that what you were feeling wasn’t actually his thigh muscles after all.

“Yes ____?”

“I think you…um, I think that you…”

“Yes? I am what?”

You refused to say it. You would not say it so you fell silent. It seemed that even Namjoon wouldn’t help you along with it.

“Turned on? Aroused?” He murmured finally when you never spoke again.

“Joon, just go back to sleep.” The…thing was much more noticeable now and this had to be the most awkward position you’d ever been in your life. You wouldn’t lie and say you’d never accidentally brushed up with their ‘bits’ ever. You were friends, it happened. But this…with his voice in your ear and his hot hands on your body…

Suffice it to say, you couldn’t wait to get home.

Namjoon ignored you. “I’m hard.” Gone was the murmur, his voice harsher against you. “And you keep squirming on top of me - that’s not helping.”

“Do you want me to get up?” You asked, careful to keep your voice down.

“No. You’re so warm and soft on me, like a blanket, why would I let you get up?” He chuckled in your ear and your neck prickled at the proximity.

This wasn’t right…

“Namjoon, you shouldn’t…” You trailed off when his hands moved, one going around to place a large palm on your front, holding you to him and the other rubbing down your leg. The slinky material of your skirt was cold in the car’s air conditioning, a startling contrast to the heat of his palm.

“Hmm?”

The skirt rose up as he drew his palm back. Your hands clutched at the window edge, trying to find some leverage to pull away from him. His hand was now under the material, hand flat against the side of your thigh. You gasped, wildly looking around at the car.

Jimin was still asleep, snores now very obvious. Jungkook still had his ear phones in but his head drooped to indicate, he too must have dozed off. You looked at the driver. Sungwon had the radio on, humming along and the seat was too high for him to notice anything behind him.

“Am I doing something you don’t want me to?”

His actions ceased immediately at his words, and in that moment you took stock of what was actually happening.

Kim Namjoon had his hands on you with one very close to the apex of your thigh. Namjoon, the man you’d felt flutters of nothing and everything for, was trying to hook up with you. Stepping away from the slippery slope that that led to, were you even equipped to handle what he could dish out?

In that moment, you were forced to pick between a jumpy but eager heart and body and the cold logical presumption of your brain that disdained the idea of you being good enough to date a BTS member. Not when they could have literally anyone they wanted.

“Joon, please,” You begged. You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Was it to keep him going? Was it to end this madness and push you both back to a place where you would always wonder of that pesky ‘what if?’

“Do you want me, ____?” Was his next question and obviously, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

“Yes,” You whispered, hating the way your whisper cracked on such a small but crucial word.

Even as you saw the line being drawn in the sand of your friendship with them, Namjoon took a moment to gauge your acceptance.

His fingers ran slow circles over your skin, warming your flesh in a way that had you melt further into your stupid decision. But well, you’d decided…and now you couldn’t just not go through with it, could you?

You leaned back into him, finding some solid comfort against his chest. The hand that held you to him tightened while the one under your skirt now pushed towards your center. You kept your eyes to the front as Namjoon maneuvered your body, sinking you further into him and angling you just so his hands landed on your core with the skirt covering his actions if anyone did turn their eyes on you.

“Are you sure, ____?” He asked.

“Please, Joon,” You whispered again and then his hands were inside your underwear, tips of his fingers caressing the mound. “Wait, what about you?”

“Shh, this is about you right now.” He muttered against your shoulder, breath hot. “Just work with me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. A part of you was thrilled to have him be doing this, but you didn’t want to seem as you were…taking advantage of his situation. Any other word of protest that you might have uttered died when his finger found your clit, having pushed your legs to spread over his own.

You covered your mouth when he applied pressure, considering your now lewd posture on top of the leader of BTS. And it might be hidden, but it was pretty damn obvious what was happening.

You let out a quiet grunt at the first circle of his rough fingers around the button. “Quiet, ____,” Why had you never realized how much you liked hearing your name from him? “We don’t want everyone to hear us, do we?” That question sounded too open-ended to be a real admonishment.

You bit your lips, trying to float with the way Namjoon worked you. He maintained a painfully slow pace, rubbing into your clit before alternating to pinch your lower lips closed over the nub. Your skin tingled, sensitive from the attention you were getting.

“Joon,” You turned your head to whisper to only him, hoping, praying he would have some pity. It was unbearable, sitting in a cold car with a hot hand over your most vulnerable spot, keeping you on edge.

“You want more?”

He took your squirming as a yes, hand pushing further into the panties to dip into your wetness. Tapping the wet flesh, he tracked the fluid upwards, painting the skin with your arousal for better lubrication.

“I think we can do better, can’t we?” He asked, sounding amused before his middle finger delved towards your hole.

Your muscles contracted at his proximity, Namjoon tutting once as his other hand moved as well. It fumbled under your shirt, finding its way in to cup a covered breast. “You have no idea how much I want to see you, ____. This will just have to do for now. I want you to relax, just breathe ok.”

And that was the thing about Namjoon.

It would be the strangest of things but he would be able to reassure and comfort you to such a degree that you would do anything. And so, you took a deep breath, settling against him and relaxing your body. Slowly, very carefully, you felt his digit enter you, curling some distance in.

He had to cough to cover the sound the both of you let out, his finger still in you, and your walls pulsating around him. He yanked his hand out of your shirt, grasping your neck to turn your ear to him.

“Fuck, ____, I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

You stared at him as best as you could, eyes falling to his mouth as you licked your lips in preparation. He followed the movement, grinning. “Only, let’s not, I won’t be able to control myself if I kiss you right now.” He opened his mouth as he pushed his finger completely into you, the knuckles brushing against your thighs.

He pumped you twice with one finger, gently sliding in another when he felt you relax more. Keeping your head turned towards the side where you breathed in his scent, he glanced over your shoulder, the motion of his hand visible through the fabric of the skirt.

Maybe it was you, but the wet sounds that emanated from his actions soon echoed loudly around you. Sungwon had long since stopped humming, the radio now a distant croon in the background. Jimin snorted a few times, the both of you freezing when he did but soon turned and continued to sleep. God, when would you get there already? You didn’t think you could take any more.

Namjoon had found your sweet spot a few minutes in and was unabashedly exploiting it, brushing against it to get your hackles up and then missing it entirely to rile you up. Your hands were clutching the handle, the other now in his hair.

Head buried in your neck, Namjoon panted hotly, muttering sweet nonsense to you that you could barely hear over the pounding of your blood. If you could get away with it, you’d have trashed, begged him to let you fall over the edge already. You were so close, it hurt. Your eyes fluttered close, a moan bubbling in your chest.

“Shit, ____.” Namjoon growled and your eyes flew wide open, seeing things in HD suddenly.

You were about to fall, you were toeing the line and then…

Your eyes met Jungkook’s.

His earphones were still plugged in, mouth agape as he stared at you in the mirror attached to the shotgun. The mirror must have reflected every damn thing that had happened and you had no clue how long Jungkook had been watching.

Namjoon hadn’t caught his Maknae watching, he only felt your walls tighten on him and redoubled his efforts to make you come.

And you did.

Watching Jungkook’s eyes trail down, most likely to where he could see…the activities, you climaxed.

Your core gripped Namjoon’s helping hand passionately, your juices slicking his fingers while the man pressed silent kisses to the side of your head to ease you along with it.

You slumped back against him in the aftershocks, eyes warily seeking the passenger in the front.

Jungkook’s eyes had returned to stare straight into your eyes. Gone was the wide-eyed stupefaction, in its place all you could see brewing was an alarming intensity.

Oh dear, what had you gotten into?

#bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #Silverspoon #bangtanbathhouse #namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader

[h0neypjm]

"big tiddie anime bitches" | jjk

↳ Summary: Jungkook, bless his heart, has an obsession. An obsession with big titty anime girls and the idea of you dressed as them. His birthday is coming up, what better time to fulfil his weeb fantasies than on Jungkook's special day.

Alternatively...

You hate the idea of dressing up as those stupid "big tiddie anime bitches" but your love for Jeon Jungkook is stronger. Besides Jungkook will have his turn next.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x reader

↳ Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship, 'maid for you' couple !

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 3.5k

↳ Warnings: disgusting amount of love and adoration between these two ew, unprotected sex, swearing, spanking, titty job, oral (both female and male), spit, reverse cowgirl, lovebites, fingering, big dick! jk, stomach bulging, creampies, crying (but the good kind), dom! jk,

↳ a/n: this is a prequel to my other fic 'maid for you' however this fic can be read on its own. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JEON JUNGKOOK MY LOVE <3

“Okay, hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook, I will not hear you out.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rise from the couch and head to your bathroom, leaving a pouting Jungkook who follows you like a lost puppy.

“Don’t you think it would be so hot though,” Jungkook tries again.

You hastily clip your hair back, eyeing him through the reflection of the mirror, “maybe for you, you pervert.”

Jungkook remains nonchalant, your claim doing little to defer his desires. “Babeee,” he whines again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close so he can lean his chin onto your shoulder.

“Sorry that I don’t want to feed into your weeb fantasies,” you say, reaching for your toothbrush.

Jungkook’s silent for a while, watching as you brush your teeth before muttering a quiet, “fine,” and leaving you with a light kiss to your neck.

In all honesty, the thought of dressing up as Mai from you and Jungkook’s recent anime binge, ‘Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai,’ doesn’t disgust you. You’ll admit, her little bunny girl get up is hot, and out of all the other characters Jungkook has begged you to dress up as, the bunny girl outfit is probably one of the easiest costumes to get into because let’s be real, no matter how much Jungkook begs you will never paint yourself blue (he can find his own Widowmaker somewhere else).

As you finish up your skincare, you ponder over his request once again. His birthday is coming up soon, and ignoring the fact that there's a suspicious lump of presents stuffed in the back of your closet all for him, one more present wouldn’t hurt.

Entering your bedroom you find your boyfriend bundled up in the sheets, the glow of his phone highlighting his pretty face.

You make yourself known, your knee dipping into the mattress, making Jungkook turn over towards you, his arms welcoming you for your nightly spooning.

“You’re not mad at me right?” he whispers into your hair to which you reply with a snort, “no, why would I be?”

Jungkook sighs like he’s embarrassed, nuzzling his nose deep into your neck, you wiggle away at the ticklish feeling but his strong arms keep you in place. “Because I always ask you to dress up as those characters even though you always like to rant to me about the male gaze and how a bikini doesn’t count as armour.” He cards his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing small comforting circles on the skin of your waist, “I don’t want you to think i’m some crazed horndog who objectifies their girlfriend.”

You laugh, big and goofy, and if Jungkook wasn’t so caught up in his thoughts he would’ve kissed you silly.

“Baby I would never think that, you’ve proved to me many times that your love is genuine. But hey, I don't blame you, I’ve got great tits,” you declare, turning to face his sleepy eyes.

“And a great ass too,” he adds, gripping your bottom with a tight hold that makes you gasp.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, pure adoration across his face.

You wanna squish his cheeks so bad, “aww you love me?” comes your teasing reply.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before wriggling into a more comfy position, “just say it back so I can sleep.”

You give into your desire to squish his cheeks by booping his nose. It scrunches cutely and he opens one eye, “I love you too,” you finally say.

The lively music is cranked down and the attention is solely focused on Jungkook. He’s got a big smile plastered across his face, his cheeks a cute shade of pink as he raises his cup.

“I’d just like to thank you all for being here tonight, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday celebration,” Jungkook announces, eliciting a “I LOVE YOU JEON JUNGKOOK!” from none other than a plastered Park Jimin. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle when he shouts back a string of adoration before pulling you in towards him.

“I would also like to thank my beautiful girlfriend who planned this all out,” Jungkook says, those eyes of his that you love so much sparkling just for you.

A round of “awws” makes its way to the two of you and you shyly hide your blush into Jungkook’s chest. He gently kisses the top of your head, the flicker of his birthday candle flames creating an angelic aura around you.

When the chorus of singing finally dies down and Jungkook bends down to blow out his candle and make a wish, he wishes for a forever happiness with you.

As you approach Jungkook with the last handful of empty beer cans, you dump them into the large trash bag and wrap your arms around his backside.

“Hey,” you whisper, gripping his shirt to grab his attention.

“What is it baby,” Jungkook replies mindlessly, scrubbing a stubborn stain out of a plate.

A mischievous grin paints your visage as you tell him, “I have one more present for you.”

Placing the clean plate onto the drying rack, Jungkook cranes his next to look at you, “what! baby you’ve done so much for me already.”

Your smile only grows wider as you gauge Jungkook’s reaction to your words, “I know, but I wanted to fulfil one of your wishes.”

Jungkook pauses, his head tilting slightly as he tries to remember what you’re talking about. “What do you mean wish? What wish are we talking about here?”

You release your grip on him to lean against the counter top, eyeing him closely, “you know… the thing you wanted me to do the other week?”

He shakes his head, looking at you as if it would help him remember before giving up, “I’m lost.”

Pushing yourself off of the counter you roll your eyes, “ugh just meet me in the bedroom when you're done,” you say as you sashay out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

There’s a long second that passes, the water from the tap suddenly getting hot before Jungkook breathes in with a mumbled, “oh, oh.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s eyes light up with the realisation that he was gonna get lucky tonight. He rushes to the bedroom, almost breaking a glass cup on the way. He expects you to be on the bed laid out for him, but you’re not.

There’s a sliver of yellow light that spills from under the bathroom door and a quiet “shit” that leaves your lips. Jungkook hears a snap, like a rubber band against skin, a small whimper comes from your mouth and Jungkook worriedly knocks on the door.

“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?”

When you bought the damn costume you didn’t read the reviews. You completely missed the part where numerous people recommended buying a size up. Now you’re suffering those consequences and you finally shimmy the body suit on.

“Get on the bed and wait,” you try to say as sweetly as you can, but there's a twinge of struggle that comes making Jungkook lean his ear suspiciously against the door.

“Alright, I’ll wait, but I should remind you that It’s my birthday and you shouldn’t keep the birthday boy waiting.”

You hear the shuffle of bedsheets, Jungkook probably listening to you and lying down on the bed. You stare at yourself in the mirror, both shocked and surprised at how good you look despite the fact that your tits bulge out like you’ve squeezed yourself into those corsets from the 19th century. Not to mention that the body suit is so tight that if you took a deep breath it kind of hurt, but you’ve already made it this far, and you have an excited birthday boy on the other side of the door so with small inhale that doesn’t cause your lungs to hate you, you open the bathroom door.

“Can I open my eyes now,” Jungkook asks excitedly, his tattooed hands covering the entirety of his face.

You’re standing like a stiff soldier, unsure of how to present yourself, “uh, no, don’t look yet.”

Should you pose? How should you stand? Maybe lean against the doorframe? No that’s stupid…

“Oh, fuck”

In the midst of deciding if you should pose like a bunny girl, or get onto the bed, Jungkook had lost his patience and opened his eyes.

“Jungkook! I told you to shut your eyes.”

Jungkook remains frozen, his eyes big as he drinks up your curves. He doesn’t know where to look. Your hips are rounded to perfection, thick thighs on display, your boobs practically one jump away from popping out, the cute bunny ears standing tall that surprisingly suit your features.

“Shit, is it bad that i’m already hard, fucking hell.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s proud because he finally convinced you to dress up for him or proud at the fact that you’re all his. His dick however, agrees to both.

“Men,” you scoff sarcastically as you crawl towards Jungkook whose head lays against the headboard, his taut thighs spread as if to welcome you. 

You find comfort between his thighs kneeling before him and holding his chin in your hand. “Happy birthday, Jungkook,” you say, seduction dropping from your lips.

He smirks back, eyes dropping down to your glossy lips, “mmm, happy birthday to me indeed.”

It’s messy, both your lips getting sticky with a mixture of your lip gloss and saliva, but you love it. Jungkook opens his mouth, you follow his rhythm, your tongue poking out to intertwine with his.

You moan into his mouth when his hands find purchase on your ass. His big hands squeeze both cheeks before slapping them, a loud smack echoing around the room. His action pushes you closer to him, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

Jungkook’s hands continue to wander before he giggles softly at the discovery of the cute fuzzy tail attached to your bottom.

“Cute,” he utters into your neck, licking your collarbones and sucking your sweet skin.

“What?” you pant, leaning your head back to offer more skin to Jungkook, to which he happily leaves a trail of love bites that slowly bloom along your neckline.

He pokes your butt, “you have a little tail.”

You wiggle your hips, the tail brushing along Jungkook’s hand. You move away from him and run your nails down his thighs, “whatever, get your shirt off and your dick out.”

A lopsided smile erupts on his face, “ohh bunny girl is feisty tonight.” Though, he obeys your command, pulling his shirt over his head in that weird but attractive way that boys do, and unbuckles the belt of his jeans.

Jungkook is indeed very hard, his cock slapping against his abdomen the second it's released from the denim.

You spit into your hand, gripping his cock immediately, drawing out a shocked groan from your boyfriend.

You take care of him with love, your grip tight, making sure to fist his red tip before bringing it back down the length of his shaft.

Once his cock is nice and prepped, shiny from your saliva, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking softly before fluttering your lashes up at him.

His lids are half open, to keep his gaze on you while revelling in the bliss of your heavenly mouth. “Fuck baby, love your mouth,” he groans, bringing his fingers to brush away the strands that fall into your eyes.

You continue your actions, bobbing your head up and down as you watch your boyfriend crumble from pleasure. Suddenly, an idea pops into your brain. Releasing his length from your mouth, you begin to pull off the tight clear straps from your shoulders.

Your tits pop out provocatively, bouncing slightly as they’re released from the confinements of the tight bodysuit.

Jungkook stares, mouth wide open, “wh-what are you doing.”

You’re still continuing to jerk him off, and Jungkook swears he’s about to bust a nut when you ask, “do you wanna fuck my tits?”

He sits up at that, startling you, “are you kidding? Fuck yeah I do.”

You laugh at his cute reaction and flick your hair so it falls off your shoulder, you gotta make sure the girls are all clear for your man after all.

Jungkook holds the base of his cock and you use your hands to press your tits together. He slides in with ease, a hiss and a small “shit” falling from his lips.

You keep your gaze on him, he always likes when you look at him during intimate times like this. You continue your stare, eyes hazy and you let drool dribble out of your mouth, letting it run

down your cleavage and onto his tip. His dick twitches in response and you hide your smile by biting your lip.

Holding your tits together you bounce them up and down, you stick your tongue out teasingly, letting it connect to his tip every time his cock peeps through your cleavage.

“Does it feel good baby?” you ask, helping Jungkook speed up the rhythm of his thrusts. “Mmm God, feels so good baby,” he whines and you swear a flood breaks out in your panties.

You love to please him, his eyes fluttering shut, until he takes his cock out of your hold. “Come here love, I'm gonna cum if you keep going. It's my turn now.”

You pout at the loss of his warmth, “babe it's your birthday, today is all about you. Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook gets up, pulling his jeans fully off his body, leaving his stark naked in front of you. You shamelessly ogle his body, he’s just so fine! 

“There’s a flaw in your logic there babe. Today is all about me, therefore I get to decide what I want to do. And what I want to do is eat you out.”

“Alright birthday boy,” you grin, switching places with Jungkook. Before you lay down you start to remove your bodysuit, that’s until Jungkook lets out a choked, “no! Keep it on.”

You pause, head cocking to the side, “but how are you gonna-”

“Shh, don’t even worry about it, leave all the work to me babe.”

And work he does as he gets right into pleasuring you.

Jungkook starts by teasing you slowly, kissing your heat over the thin material. “Shit baby, you’ve soaked your costume,” he jibes, hooking his thumbs under the elastic to reveal your dripping slit.

You feel his hot breath as it hits your pussy making you involuntarily clench at what’s to come. “Fuck, baby you’ve got the prettiest pussy in the world.”

You cross your arms over your face embarrassed, “Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook listens, flattening his tongue against you, tasting you.

You inhale sharply as Jungkook pulls the costume back more and you fist the sheets when he finally dives in.

“Oh, God! Jungkook!” you moan, basking in the electric pleasure that shoots through you as Jungkook sucks and tongues at your clit like a man starved.

With his free hand, he pops two fingers in his mouth, watching your flushed expression with dark eyes. You feel his fingers at the entrance of your hole, teasing you as his tongue continues to draw pictures on your swollen nub.

Your thighs clench around Jungkook’s head when he slips two of his fingers inside of you. “Ah! Feels so good, baby.”

He says nothing, his reply coming through the wet sounds of his mouth and fingers.

Jungkook is skilled, used to all the signs and crevices of your body, so when your hips begin to lift, and your toes begin to clench, Jungkook keeps at his pace.

His mouth opens and closes around your heat, his fingers curling inside as you explode, your orgasm completely swallowing you.

You throw your head back into the pillows, a whine bubbling out of your mouth. Once your hips settle back down, Jungkook knows the high is over, releasing his mouth and fingers off of you.

Your costume snaps back into place and you sigh, Jungkook crawling on top of you, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He always gets so cocky after making you cum.

He kisses you again and you melt, tasting yourself on his tongue.

His hands find your waist and you squeal into his neck as he swiftly flips you on top of him. You brush away the hair that had fallen into your face from the abrupt movement, “your strength continues to amaze me,” you giggle, smiling down sweetly at Jungkook. 

You kiss him again because you simply can’t get enough of him, he slaps your ass grabbing your attention. “I want you to turn around.”

You almost frown, “but I want you to look at me when I ride you.”

He runs a ringer down your arm before squeezing your boob in his palm, “you will baby just turn around for me first.”

You comply anyway, turning your body away from him, “you just wanna watch my bunny tail bounce don’t you,” you accuse. Jungkook laughs, “maybe.”

You don’t allow another second to be wasted, sitting up on your knees to move the sticky costume to the side. With your other hand you reach down and hold the base of Jungkook’s cock, positioning it at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

You both groan at the sensation of your warmth enveloping his length, your voices harmonising together in pleasure. You swivel your hips in small circles, getting comfortable with his huge size.

Jungkook places both hands on your hips, and you take that as a sign to show him how well you can ride it.

You begin with a light bounce, letting go of the bunny girl costume material as his cock holds it out of the way. You lean your hands on his thighs gaining a steady rhythm humming at the euphoria that spreads through your body.

Jungkook will admit, the sight of your bunny tailed ass paired with the ears that sit atop of your cute head is a sight that makes him release a deep groan.

His hands tighten on your skin and he thrusts up, his body spinning in pleasure, “baby you’re so hot, so tight, fuck.”

You try your best to maintain the speed, loud wet smacks ricocheting around the walls of your room. However, the burn in your tired thighs takes over, and Jungkook notices the way you start to slow down, and he’s not having it.

Jungkook takes the reins and thrusts his hips at a rapid speed that has you screaming his name. As Jungkook increases his speed, he grabs both of your arms, using them to help him piston into you at a faster speed.

“Ah! Oh fuck Jungkook” is all you can say, the pleasure vibrating all over your skin. A mix of both your essences melds together and drips down your thighs, you sigh and fall back against his chest. You can finally see Jungkook, and god, he’s so pretty.

Jungkook continues to thrust into you, his breath staggered and rough as it rushes against your ear. Your tits bounce ferociously like those hentai videos you’ve caught him watching, and as you expected, he grabs one in his hand rubbing a finger over your nipple and squeezing the other.

You pant in his neck, leaving small kisses on his hot skin to which he turns his head to offer you his lips.

Jungkook’s hand releases your tit to find your clit, rubbing fast circles that push you further to your release.

Your mouth falls open, unable to speak. Jungkook is focused on the way your bodies meet, his eyes wide when he notices something.

“Holy shit, look at that love, my dick so big you can see it through your stomach.”

You raise your head, eyes almost crossing at the sight of the bulge that pokes through your stomach every time Jungkook sends a hard thrust into you.

You can’t take it anymore, “Jungkook! Baby I’m gonna cum,” you feel your eyes starting to water at the impending explosion of your orgasm.

You know Jungkook is close, his teeth wrapped around his bottom lip, “yeah, hold it baby I’m almost there, fuck I love you.”

You could almost cry. “I love you so much too Koo.”

With one final thrust you both cum together.

Jungkook holds you tightly, his dick snug inside of your walls as he starts to soften.

No words are spoken, just the sound of deep breaths and shuddered sighs. It’s heavenly. 

Jungkook gently exits your heat, his cum slowly dripping out onto your thighs and onto your bed sheets.

“Just letting you know, it’s gonna be your turn next,” you mumble tiredly, stretching your arms before wrapping them around Jungkook’s head as he continues to catch his breath.

He only scoffs in return, turning his head towards you to plant a sweet kiss against your forehead, “as if.”

Oh, you're so getting back at him.

#h0neypjm #mine #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #btsghostie #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts #btsdreamcourt #jungkook fluff #ficswithluv

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List | Pt. 14

Word count: 5.5k ish

Warnings: explicit language, violence, sexual themes

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

—------

A/N: Hiii lovelies I know it had been literal years since I’ve properly updated. To avoid confusion you may want to go back a few chapters to refresh; I recommend part 12. Also some of the next few chapters may look familiar bc I re-wrote them. But I think you will like this version much better :)

“Why did you avoid me after we kissed?” you asked again, your voice clear. You did not make yourself elaborate. You didn’t tell him how you’ve felt lost and helpless these weeks. And if you could take it back, you would. But if you were honest with yourself, no part of you really wanted to.

You just looked at him expectantly and watched him squirm in the silence. “Because.. I’m a coward,” he offered, looking down at his hands.

Your silence was loud in the air between you, pressuring him to keep talking, “I was scared because BTS has already put you in so much danger already. I mean, we're not even dating, and you were basically held hostage.”

“Don’t pin this on me.” you cut him off. You knew it was a valid point, but it wasn’t his only reason for not talking to you. “Whether or not I endanger myself to date you is a decision for us to make. Why did you avoid me?” you asked again.

“I was scared. I was scared it was an impulsive or pity kiss after being shot. I was scared you didn’t have feelings for me, so I avoided the rejection.”

You quirked a brow in disbelief. Oh, sure, he was scared of you rejecting him. “It’s true!” he insisted.

“And I don’t even know if I could date you,” he added, and you felt a part of your chest ache at the confession.

“I don’t know if I'm capable of dating with my lifestyle. It's not only a safety hazard, but I don't know if I’m capable of giving you any more of myself than I already have. I think about you all the time. And I love spending time with you. But our friendship, where we were before that kiss, it’s all I know how to give people.”

He turned to you, eyes searching your face for any signs of hurt or betrayal, but he couldn’t read your expression as you quietly whispered, “And what if I told you that’s enough?”

Jungkook parted his lips but was at a loss for words.

“I’ve never really dated,” you explained, “And I don't think I know how to. And school is so stressful, and the program is only going to get more complex. I’m not sure I have time to learn and figure out the ‘right’ way to do it.” You paused as you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you realized how contradictory you were sounding.

“I like you, Jungkook. I like what we have, and I liked kissing you. But before now, I didn’t think I could date you. Not because of the whole ‘gang’ thing. But because I think-” your voice cracked, “I think something in me broke when I lost Daewon. I never,” You paused to swallow.

“I will never let anyone in like that again because it hurt so bad when I lost her. And we weren’t even together romantically. So, imagine how bad it would hurt to lose a partner?” a hot tear rolled down your cheek, and Jungkook reached up to wipe it. You leaned into the comforting heat of his touch as his callused thumb rubbed soothingly on your cheek.

“What I’m trying to say is we both clearly have boundaries and walls. And we both suck at keeping the other out of some of them. So what if we loved eachother in whatever fucked up way we know how and at least reap the benefits of having shitty partners?” You offered with a hesitant smile.

“The benefits being?” Jungkook asked with a quirked brow.

Mischief glinted in your eyes as you smiled at him before lifting onto your knees and crawling towards him on the couch. Jungkook knew this conversation wasn’t over. He knew he should stop you and assure you that nothing about you was broken for being cautious about who you loved. He wanted to tell you that you were good and kind and would make an incredible partner in any capacity, and he was worried he wouldn’t deserve what you were willing to give. But his mind went blank as you inched so close that he could feel your breath against his face as you murmured, “I can think of a few.”

You moved confidently but still grazed your lips against his in the softest touch as if asking for permission.

Jungkook leaned forward, capturing you in the kiss and pulling you into his lap. It was just as hungry as last time, as if he had been waiting to taste you again. Jungkook felt his body come alight at the joy of feeling you pressed against him. His hands rubbed eagerly against your thighs before wandering up your sides, your arms, and your shoulders as he took all of you in.

The touch wasn’t as much for pleasure as it was a claiming. But still, you skin tingled in response. A trail of goosebumps rose in the wake of every brush of his callused hands.

Finally, you broke the kiss to catch your breath. Pressing your forehead against his, you both smiled like idiots as you took eachother in.

Jungkook leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. As if the raw desperation passed, he would savor every second now that he had you. His hands were firmly on your waist, and his thumbs rubbed in a soothing motion, lower, and lower as they crept under the hem of your shirt.

You felt core core turning molten and couldn’t reflect back on the last time you had been with someone in this way.

Jungkook’s mouth was hot against your neck, trailing down from behind your ear lower and lower, looking for the spot that made-

You gasped and arched against him in pleasure, your chest pressing harder against his.

There it was, his mind thought in primal satisfaction, as he bit down right above your pulse point, making you writhe against him further. He had been replaying the sounds you made during your last kiss in his head an embarrassing number of nights he was alone. He wanted to map your body right now and learn every spot that made you sigh and moan for him. His hands had migrated further up your ribcage, your skin flushing hot beneath his touch as his thumbs swiped just below your bra.

He was about to reach around to unclasp it when a cough from the kitchen cut his ministrations short. You both turned in shock to see Yoongi placing an expresso pod in the coffee machine.

“J-Hope is in the garage you might wanna,” he waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture to separate. “Or don’t,” he said with a shrug, “I think his reaction would be funny.”

You were scrambling off Jungkook's lap and shoving a pillow between the two of you. Your lips were swollen and bruised from the kiss. You straightened your shirt, which was more rumpled from your earlier fight than anything, and placed a pillow between the two of you as if to protect your chastity with seconds to spare before the sound of Hoseok’s footsteps echoed from the garage. You locked eyes with him as soon as he made it in the entryway. You could feel the anger radiating off of him as he entered the room.

“What happened?” He demanded.

Jungkook calmed his breathing, grabbing the pillow barrier to instead place on his lap as he reminded himself that the bakery was attacked. Hoseok had no clue that Jungkook was just kissing his best friend and that he was not in danger.

“Hobi!” you were up in an instant, ignoring his foul temper as you wrapped your arms around him.

He caught your embrace effortlessly, his eyes tracking you and then noting Jungkook and his new emotional support pillow as he squeezed you tightly before letting you step back.

“Are you okay?” you both ask in unison before cracking a smile.

“I’m fine I just had to lay low. What happened at the bakery tonight?” Hoseok pushed.

Your smile faltered for a moment. “There was an ambush, they didn’t touch me. I can’t say the same for them, but they’ll be fine.” you started.

Hoseok’s brow rose at your implication, “You took out four of the Black Tips best men?” he asked. He didn’t sound disbelieving, he sounded… impressed and maybe a little proud.

“Only two, and I wouldn’t call them the best. Why are you here if you’re in hiding?” you asked, ignoring the way his approval warmed you chest. “And why were you in hiding? And when did you dye your hair?” you pushed. Reaching up to touch the murky black locks. It was obviously box-dyed and barely covered the bright red it was days earlier.

Hoseok smiled tight-lipped before moving to the couch, “I’ll tell my story if you promise to tell yours when Jin and RM get back.” He offered.

You refrained from pointing out that the reason you were at the Den in the first place was to do exactly that. You were too eager to get some answers from Hoseok. Who quickly filled you in on the details of the fake assassination attempt that ended in a not-so-fake assassination charge. That led to Hoseok and Yoongi hiding out in some shitty safe house an hour outside the city, living off Raman noodles and re-dying their hair to more subtle colors.

By time Hoseok had finished, the other members of BTS began filing in. Hoseok told you they had only been called out of hiding so Yoongi could manage the video footage of the bakery and nearby security cameras for the police department and insurance claims. Jin wanted to edit out any evidence of a gang-related interrogation, or else their relationship was going to get a lot more complicated with the local authorities.

But apparently, there was no need. Yoongi was fuming when he returned from his office, informing the others that while the security cameras were able to stream live footage to their system, the memory had been wiped from BTS’s computers.

He still had to cover their tracks of abducting the Black Tips on any city cameras. But otherwise the gang was relying on you as the sole witness to the night's events.

Well, you and the four Black Tip members who attacked you. The men were currently stored away in a safe house under the greenhouse on the Den’s property. But with the excessive exposure to Jimin’s smoke, there was a chance their memories would be unreliable, if not nonexistent.

Jimin couldn’t even estimate a wake time for the men due to the level of gas they inhaled. It could be days before anyone could get answers out of them.

When Jin and Jimin finally returned from filing their reports to the authorities, everyone settled in the living room to hear your account. You recalled the night's events as detailed as possible, telling them how the man in the suit tried to buy your loyalty from BTS and describing him to the best of your ability.

To your relief, they all listened quietly while you spoke, and when you were done, it was V who helped you fill in any gaps you may have missed by prompting you with questions. His presence was steady and soothing, and you realized he was giving you a glimpse of the spider at work. The others didn’t dare interrupt him or ask their own questions, they trusted him to gather every drop of information.

What did the man in the suite look like?

Did he ask about BTS’s current movements?

What ‘sins against the city’ did he want to hold BTS responsible for?

What information did he want you to report back?

You didn’t have any answers to half of those questions, confessing you spent most of your time stalling and trying to get the man to reveal why he was bribing you of all people. You were convinced at the time that the alarm had alerted BTS of your situation and that they would arrive at any minute. The thought of the man getting away didn’t seem like a possibility.

And a small part of you, despite promising yourself you owed BTS nothing outside of your contract, couldn’t help but feel like this oversight was a failure on your part. Somehow, you let the gang down.

Jin clarified that the alarm had been disabled along with the cameras hours prior to the break-in. It was by luck and V’s intel that they managed to get to you when you did.

“And isn't that a big fucking problem?” Hoseok growled, unable to stay quiet any longer.

He stepped forward, glaring in Jin and Jimin’s direction, “Do you realize how irresponsible it was to schedule her on a closing shift alone.” He accused.

“Hobi, it’s fine I worked late all the time at my last job,” you started trying to diffuse the situation.

Everyone in the room refrained from pointing out how well that had gone for you.

“No, it’s not fine. This isn’t like your other job. What if they tried to get information from her at that moment, and she had nothing to give? What if V didn’t call in time? There are a thousand different ways this could have gone wrong. She is not a member of this gang,” Hoseok snapped.

You flinched slightly at his tone.

“She doesn’t have the tattoo. Debt and favors aside, she should not be this deep in BTS’s affairs. She should not be alone in our businesses. That bakery is a cover for Jimin’s lab and loitering drug money. Why the hell would you think it okay to leave her alone there?” He continued.

Jin’s face was like a stone as Hoseok lectured him, not wanting his own emotions to invalidate his brothers. “You're right.” Jin agreed, and you could see the full weight of tonight's events take a toll on him as his shoulders sagged and he turned to you with guilt in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry I put you in danger, Ella. We will never let it happen again.” Jin promised his voice was soft but earnest.

“It sure as hell won’t because she’s not working for you anymore.” Hoseok snapped.

“That's not your call to make,” you argued.

Hoseok turned to you, frustration evident on his face, “Do not fight me on this. You know tonight was too dangerous.”

“She was the dangerous part of tonight. She was fine.” Jungkook pushed, standing next to you.

“Stay out of this!” You and Hoseok snapped in unison.

Jungkook’s face puckered like he tasted something sour, but he sat back on the couch's arm.

“Tonight, you were lucky that man wanted you alive. He could change his mind at any point why can’t you see the danger in that.”

“I'm bound by contract to keep working off my debt,” you argued as you turned to RM for backup.

RM crossed his arms, taking in you and Hoseok as he contemplated his response.

“Blood debt runs deeper than civil law,” Hoseok said before his leader could voice his opinion. And a tense stillness fell across the room.

“Have you forgotten she’s on the No Harm List? That we are supposed to be willing to die for her.” he pushed. The whole gang's demeanor changed at the reminder Jimin downcast his gaze as his shame sank into his gut.

“I don’t want that,” you pushed, horrified, “Take me off the list I don’t - I did not ever want that.”

“Daewon, please, why won’t you let me protect you!”

The room fell quiet as his sister's name echoed through the room.

Your chest ached as understanding settled in, “Oh, Hobie,” you sighed.

“We’ll take a vote,” RM ordered, unable to stand another minute of this fighting. “We have damage control to take care of, and everyone is tired. We meet first thing, and we will decide as a team what we should do about Ella.”

Hoseok’s smile was mirthless at his boss’s half-ass attempt to placate him. “See you bright in early,” he said with a salute before turning for the garage.

You stared after your best friend, hesitant to follow him. “And do I get a say in that decision?” you asked RM softly.

RM sighed, “Your opinion will be considered when we vote. You will have full control over how we go about re-negotiating your contract if it comes to it.”

Assuming that was the best you could get, you sighed, eyes flicking over to Yoongi who flanked RM’s left, his arms crossed and his expression stoic.

“I guess I’ll go catch up with Hobi,” you offered hesitantly, not knowing what to do. Yoongi met your eyes but said nothing. Taking Yoongi’s silence as his answer, you squeezed Jungkook’s hand in a silent farewell before you followed Hoseok to the garage.

Hoseok kept his eyes forward as you approached his vehicle. He was sitting in his Porsche the engine purred a soft accompaniment to the rhythmic thump of his music.

“Can I catch a ride?” you asked, already settling into the passenger's seat and buckling before he could give an empty “Sure.” in response.

You didn’t ask where he was taking you as he sped out of the Den’s parking lot and into the streets of the seventh ward. His options were limited if he was still a wanted man, and you figured you would end up at your apartment by the end of the night.

“We need to pick up another box of hair dye. Whoever did yours did a shitty job,” you said, reaching to run your fingers through his hair.

The unique thing about your friendship with Hoseok was you two were forced to mourn together when you were getting close. Meaning you both had a talent for ignoring the elephant in the room and settling into a normal life where you talked around the big issue.

It wasn’t always healthy to ignore your problems like that. But for you and Hoseok, it worked. After big changes like this, you both had a habit of turning off your feelings for a while and giving each other space and time to process instead of forcing each other to talk about an issue before you were ready.

It’s what you did with Daewon’s death. It’s what he did for you when you first found out about BTS.

So tonight, you could make space for him. The two of you could go through the rest of the night without talking about the bakery or BTS at all if he didn’t want to.

You glanced out the window, realizing what street he was turning on.

“We’re going to see Dae?” you asked, surprised as he pulled to the side of the road outside the city’s botanical garden. The gardens were closed, which was no surprise considering it was close to one in the morning. But that was never a problem in the past.

“We didn’t visit her on her anniversary this year,” Hoseok said simply.

You both visited separately, though you wouldn’t point it out. At the time of Dae’s anniversary, you were still giving him the silent treatment for lying to you about BTS. You had visited Daewon’s grave on your own and saw that it had already been cleaned, and her favorite flowers decorated the small plot, meaning Hoseok had already beat you there.

At the time, you had felt guilty for the relief you felt in your chest. Visiting her that day came with the fear that you and Hoseok would cross paths before you were ready to face him. And you think Dae would have been disappointed to see the two of you arguing on top of her grave.

Because of that, neither of you had gone through with your tradition of robbing the botanical gardens.

Your freshmen year of college was filled with many adventures since moving to Alcor was still a novel experience, but it also came with many nights of being homesick. While Gautier was technically a territory of Kros, the country Alcor resides in, the cultures were very different. And the climate was shockingly different in the cold and wet port city where the smell of sea salt was on the breeze, you missed the clean and fresh scent of blooming heathers and rosemary in the spring, and the taste of sweet figs right off the tree in the summer time.

One night, when you were suffering from a rather nasty bout of homesickness, Daewon took you to the botanical gardens and taught you how to break in at night. At the back of the property, a mighty magnolia tree bloomed outside the garden's fence. It was almost too easy to scale the tree’s sturdy branches and dismount on the other side of the garden. The fences were lined with countless bamboo trellises fortified with different vine plants, making for an easy escape anywhere inside the garden.

You remember how your heart fluttered the first night the two of you broke in. You had to make an effort to hold in your nervous giggle as you scaled the magnolia tree and landed on the mossy lawn of the prehistoric trail, which was lined with ZZ plants and ferns with curling fronds. Sneaking your way through the trail and across the lawn of irsis leads you past the desert exhibit and to a greenhouse that honored the terrain of the eastern colony you called home.

The air was warm but much dryer thanks to the special ventilation system, but despite the heavy humidity missing from the air, the small shrub like plants thrived in the rocky soil, filling the air with the fragrant and aromatic scent of rosemary, lavender, and heathers.

You remember how a knot built in the back of your throat as you ran your fingers over the woody rosemary bush, taking in the earthy pine-like scent. Dae sat with you and listened to you go on about your childhood home for hours.

The giant rosemary bushes that were planted around your house were a staple in your kitchen and bathroom growing up. Your mother was always placing sprigs in her hair products, using it as her own perfume.

You told her the story of how your dad always tried to recreate your mother's french toast recipe on your birthday, but he always forgot to sweeten it so it just tasted like egg bread.

You told her stories of how your father courted your stepmom and how you watched them fall in love again, and build a new family together. One you didn’t fit into as snuggly, not for lack of love in your home, but because you were so much older than your siblings and you had your own dreams and life you were ready to find in Alcor.

Dae held you when you cried, then jokingly played the national anthem to Gautier on her cell phone. You guys laughed and danced around the greenhouse as she struggled to keep up with the lyrics.

The memory brought warmth to your chest years later, just like all the other memories with Daewon. But beneath the warmth, a sharp ache still lingered. Daewon wasn’t perfect by any means; she had a temper like her brother, and she could brood like no other.

But she was good. Daewon was good and fun and she loved so fiercely and encouraged and celebrated her friends. She was the type of person to buy you an ice cream after you failed a test and a cake if you passed.

She was the first person to encourage and support you in your adult life, even in scandalous situations like bringing you a spare set of clothes to the frat house so your walk of shame was a bit less shameful the next morning.

“God I miss her,” you sighed as you approached the magnolia.

“Me too. Every day.” Hoseok agreed quietly as he watched you scale the branches.

He was a worry wort and always made you go first in case you slipped.

“Did Daeown ever know? About BTS?” you asked curiously as both climbed higher in the magnolia tree.

“She knew some of it, like selling the spare car parts, and she could obviously guess some more once I got the tattoo, but she didn’t know everything.” He offered as you reached the branch just past the tall fence that protected the gardens.

‘She didn’t know I shot people,’ she could almost hear Hoseok say.

You ducked low as you approached the branch that led into the garden. Grabbing onto the limb above you to balance yourself, you carefully made your way forward as the branch dipped under your weight.

“Careful,” Hoseok warned.

“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes as you let go of the limb stabling you, tightening your core as you jumped from the tree. It was less than a 5-foot drop, but you kept your knees bent as you landed, feeling the impact reverberate back into your legs. You hissed as the pins and needles feeling swarmed the balls of your feet.

“You gotta tuck and roll,” Hosek laughed as you wattled out of his way.

You watched as he lowered himself on the branch the muscles in his body tensed before he sprung forward, extending his legs with his knees still slightly bent.

You sometimes forget the athleticism Hoseok hones in his body. You take for granted how smooth and precise his movements are. It was something you still couldn't quite replicate when you trained with Jungkook. But as you admired your friend, you wondered if he was responsible for training Jungkook to master his own smooth agility.

As his feet touched the ground, he pushed his momentum forward, curling into a ball and rolling across the grass.

“Ow fuck!” he exclaimed as he backrolled over a raised root of a nearby tree.

“And that's why I don’t tuck and roll,” you teased, walking towards him, the ach in your legs nearly forgotten.

You wandered out of the exhibit and towards the iris lawn. Dae’s favorite flowers were blue irises. She used to always pick a few of the flowers any time they visited the garden and keep a vase of them in the dorm room.

“You know they’re bulbed plants one day, we can go to the store and get our own,” Hoseok suggested.

“It’s not the same she says they smell better when they’re picked from the garden here,” you insisted.

“It’s not like she’ll be smelling these,” Hoseok grumbled under his breath but obliged when you held out your hand for his pocket knife.

The theft was quick and efficient. You cut loose five of the flower's long stems and returned back to the fence. Taking care that the flowers were unharmed as you shimmied up one of the trellises.

You were both back in the car within 15 minutes and driving down the road to her grave. The visit was a quiet one. Not tearful like in years past, and for a moment as the two of you kneeled and placed the flowers against the tombstone, you didn’t know if either of you were going to speak at all.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave the city,” Hoseok asked quietly.

You looked at him, startled, “You know my dream is to be a travel doctor,” you replied.

“Is that still your dream?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, your eyes searching his face for any indication of where he was going with this.

“Y/N, you were determined once. Focused. You lived and sacrificed for that dream and would never jeopardize it. And lately, you’ve-” You closed your eyes as you caught on to his intentions.

“Continued to sacrifice for it,” you interrupted him, “everything I’ve done, the debt I have isn’t so I can play gangster. It’s so I can finish school. The moment I graduate and the moment I pay off my debt, I’m leaving the city.” You assured.

“You could leave now,” he urged.

“Take a residency somewhere I know your grades are good enough for that accelerated program.”

“I can’t run out on my debt. They will find me.” You hissed.

“They won’t. Jungkook will pull RM off your trail, and they can’t send me after you. I would go with you. You’re the only family I have.” Hoseok pushed his voice urgent, “Things are getting bad. There’s a turf war brewing, and the Black Tips aren’t working alone. I don’t think that man who came after you tonight is from the west side. If power players from the East are involved, this whole city will go to shit. This isn’t a petty fight; people will die. The inner circle and whoever is affiliated with them will have a target on their back.”

“What about Yoongi?” You asked.

Your question was double-sided. You knew about Hoseok’s feelings for him and his unwillingness to move on from him over the years. Hoseok was always privet with the gang side of his life, but even before you knew of BTS, you knew of Yoongi and the web of feelings he carried with him. And you also knew of the second's ability to track down and find anyone. If RM wanted either of you dead, Yoongi would find you in a heartbeat and probably had the skill set to dispose of you himself, too.

Hoseok's eyes downcast “He would let us go.”

“You’re expecting a lot of loyalty from someone you plan to betray.” You pushed.

“You’re putting up a hard fight for someone who claims they don’t have a real reason to stay,” he pressed back.

You looked away from your best friend. The man who treated you like his own sister from the beginning. Who was ready to give everything up and run to make sure you were safe.

Why weren’t you willing to give up your fraction of this world in return?

“Perhaps things are more complicated than I give myself credit for. I kissed Jungkook, and I can’t just leave until I figure that out.” You admitted embarrassed. You braced yourself for the teasing or the anger. But Hoseok's face was calm as he responded his eyes ernst and urgent.

“I fucked Yoongi,” Hoseok countered. “If I don’t leave now. I never will.”

A/N: I haven’t updated in so long I totally forgot how tags and formatting work on this post. Hopefully it finds the intended audience… let me know if you read and enjoyed it!!! Xoxox

Tag List

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#no harm list #no harm list update #bts fic #bts mafia au #btsghostie #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook x reader #Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon #soap confirmed #gangster jungkook #gangster namjoon #gangster v #gangster taehyung #gangster jhope #gangster jimin #scientist Jimin #spy taehyung #bts fanfic #gangster suga #gangster jin #jeon jungkook smut

[bangtanloverboys]

the artist and his prince

summary - being the second son of the king, taehyung is left free to do whatever he pleased. whether that be travel the world, lounge about like a cat, or be a patron the arts

pairing - prince!taehyung x male artist!reader

genre - fluff; royal au

word count - 2.3k

warnings - historical inaccuracies, autor knows nothing about art

author’s note - slightly inspired by this tumblr post 

Early on in his life, Taehyung knew he would never measure up to his brother, Namjoon. He was the perfect prince and heir to the throne; mastered sword fighting by 10, an accomplished diplomat by 15, and was a kind and just man. Sure, he garnered all of their father’s attention. But Taehyung was never jealous of him. 

No, in fact quite the opposite. 

He was thankful for him. For as the second son, he had all the freedom to do whatever he so wished. He spent his teen years traveling abroad; going from Greece, to Rome, to Spain, to Egypt, to India. By the time he returned home, he was in his two and twentieth year and was skilled in nearly six languages. But there was something Taehyung loved more than traveling or gold, or anything else in the world. 

Art.

Everywhere he went, he collected the most beautiful pieces of artwork he could find, commissioning dozens of artists for their work. It was something he remembered his mother instilling him, always taking him to art houses and shows. It was one of the few ways he felt closest to her after she succumbed to illness when he was nine..

Once he returned home, he promised to continue to fill the palace with the most beautiful art. Enter: you.

You were a local artist he came across at the first art show he went to upon his return home. You weren’t very popular, per se. A few people would stop and stare at your work, admiring it for a few moments before moving on. However, when Taehyung came across your work, he felt as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. 

It was a piece telling of the myth of Narcissus and Echo, with the young man draped across the rocks of the pond, lowering his face as close as he could to the water without causing it to ripple. It had been clear that he had been there long, for instead of strong, slender arms; Narcissus was thin and sickly. Already, daffodils had begun to grow over him. The nymph was in the foreground of the painting, tears streaming down her face as she screamed to her unrequited love, who now lay dying before her, unable to tear his attention away to save him. 

Taehyung didn’t know how long he stood in front of the painting, but he could not tear his eyes away. For to spend a second not appreciating its beauty, would’ve been a moment wasted. 

“Do you like it?” A voice pulled him from his thoughts. Turning his head, he saw you, a young man around his age, a small smile playing on your lips as you waited for him to answer your question. 

“Like it? I- I have no words for it! It's almost as if it speaks to my very soul! From the composition, to the subject, to the color. . . It’s a stunning painting. Do you know the man who painted it?”

You regarded him for a moment, stunned at his compliments before responding. “From what I’ve heard of him, he’s an old bat that refuses to leave his studio until his next masterpiece is done.” 

“Do you know where I may find him? I would love to speak with him.”

“Usually, he hates attending exhibitions such as these; stuffy society members critiquing his work as if they know the very thoughts in his head as he painted,” you continued, speaking bitterly. Taehyung frowned at the information, upset at the prospect of being unable to meet the artist before you laughed silently to yourself, holding out your hand, giving your name. “And he unfortunately also just so happens to be me.”

Taehyung blinked for a moment, his mind not processing the information. Before he knew it, he reached for your outstretched hand. “It is- it is an honor to meet you! My word, you almost had me fooled.”

Your grin grew wider at that. “Please, the honor is mine. It’s not every day a prince compliments my work. For which, I thank you for.” You bowed your head slightly. “Not everyone can say the same, failing to understand the basis of the mythos.”

“I couldn’t agree more; I saw so many pass your painting by, without recognizing the true tragedy of it all. Having Narcissus already dying, being consumed by the earth and Echo trying to pull him away to save him. . . What drove you to that decision?”

You turned your attention back up towards the art, quietly staring up at Echo. “In so many words, I know what it’s like to watch the one you love fade away from you, unable to stop them from their own undoing. Not being able to speak the words you truly want to say. . .” your eyes glassed over, as if recalling that very memory. “So what can I say, the story of Narcissus felt like a reflection of my own so. . . how could I not?”

Taehyung said nothing, simply nodding in some understanding, despite having no experience of such pain. He looked up at the painting again, following your eyes to truly see what you could. To see it through your eyes. For a moment, he almost saw you in Echo’s features. But in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

More people stopped beside either of you for a moment, before quickly moving on, uttering some words about it not being beautiful or questioning the subjects’ expressions. With each statement, Taehyung could sense you growing tense beside him, the stitching in your gloves stretching as you squeeze your fist tight. 

“I would like to hang this in my estate.” The words slipped by Taehyung’s lips before he could think.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I would pay your handsomely, of course. If no one would appreciate your work here, I can assure you, I will dedicate an hour of my day, every day looking at this painting,” he offered, hoping it would be enough.

You were silent as you narrowed your eyes at him, as if you were trying to detect any hint of a lie in his words. “Alright, but I have one condition.”

Ecstatic, Taehyung broke into a wide grin. “Name it.”

“I get to paint you.”

Intrigued by your condition, he agreed.  

True to his word, Taehyung bought the painting, hanging it in his private rooms so it would be the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night. And within days, you had come over, paints and easel in hand, ready to paint the younger prince.

It became apparent to Taehyung that you were unlike any other artist who had made a portrait of him before. Instead of having him in the most elaborate dress clothes, decorated with ornate jewels and dressings; you requested him to be dressed simply. For him to wear nothing that would even remotely suggest he was royalty. Taehyung complied, curious to see what exactly you had planned. 

“Do you have a conservatory?” You asked upon your arrival in the early morning. “Or a garden perhaps?”

“Yes, it’s just this way.” Taehyung gestured for some servants to carry your equipment for you before leading you towards the conservatory. It was a bit smaller than the one that was at the palace, but it was still well kept. Dozens of different types of flowers and other types of local flora were tended to throughout the year by his staff. Greenery grew from every nook and cranny, and whilst Taehyung wasn’t much for flowers, he enjoyed having color in his home. 

Once you set foot into the greenhouse, you immediately went to work; setting up an area for you to paint but a scene. You pulled around a garden table, setting it beside a rose bush. You stared at it for a moment, only to move it around again. Taehyung watched from the side lines, fascinated with your process. After a near ten minutes of pushing the table this way or pulling another plant that way, you declared yourself ready.

“I’d like you to sit there,” you gestured to the table, “you have the option of reading a book whilst I work or you may just sit there. Whichever you prefer,” you told him as you began to pull out your pencils. 

“Nathaniel?” 

“Yes, Your Highness?” His butler responded. 

“Bring me the novel that’s in the drawing room,” Taehyung said as he sat down.

“Of course, right away, sir.” Within minutes of leaving, he had procured the book Taehyung had been reading earlier that very day. 

He opened it, and began to read. A comfortable silence fell over the conservatory, only the sounds of your tasks filling it in. The sound of your pencils against the canvas, the occasional turning of a page, the gentle ‘hmm’ as your eyes flickered from the canvas to the prince. 

Taehyung could feel your eyes everywhere. He would occasionally spare glances at you through the corner of his vision, watching you as your eyes traced his entire being. From the curve of his neck, to the slope of his nose. The length of his arms to the spaces between his fingers. He could feel you everywhere. He had posed for hundreds of portraits his entire life. Never before had it felt so intimate.

After the first hour or so, you had the first sketch completed. You moved onto the paints, quickly mixing them on your pallet, before bringing them to the canvas. It was usually around this time that Taehyung grew anxious, no longer able to sit still any longer, wanting to watch the art process from the artist’s perspective. He barely opened his mouth to ask to peek at the product before you shushed him.

“It will be finished soon, Your Highness. You may see it then. Have patience.”

He could not believe it. No one had ever dared to speak to him in such a way, he was stunned into silence. By the time he shook himself out of it, he could see you smiling to yourself about your brazen words. It was then and there that something bloomed within his chest, he could not think to name the emotion, but he knew he could not dare to let you go.

A few more hours had passed and Nathaniel had brought Taehyung another book to read. Somewhere between Taehyung taking glances at you and getting lost in his novel, you shed your jacket, with the added paint stains growing along your sleeves, you looked more and more disheveled as you worked. But there was this gleam in your eye, glowing brighter and brighter. He’d seen that look before in many painters' eyes, the look of pure and utter passion. So much love and care for their work that it was overflowing from their very being. 

The look of a true artist. 

 The sun was now hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows and illuminating the conservatory in the golden glow when you finally announced yourself done. Taehyung rose from his seat, groaning as his stiff limbs ached after remaining still for so long. But he ignored the burning of his muscles, knowing that what you had created would’ve made it worth it. You turned the easel to face him and Taehyung felt like his heart soared.

You had painted the prince leaning forward on his elbow, the pages of his book kept open by his free hand. The pose was so informal, so personal, that he felt as if he’d walked in on a private moment with his own image! The flowers you’d placed around him spread out around his back, as if they were blooming out from his very body as he read. It looked so real, so life-like that he felt as if you had somehow, magically paused the moment he had just lived. 

He breathed out your name, turning to face you, where you were waiting with baited breath. Paint had found its way across your cheek and forehead, but you made no fuss of it, watching Taehyung intently as he inspected your work. “This. . . I have no words. It’s as if you captured my very soul!” He turned to look back at the painting, unable to process anymore words for your remarkable work. “You truly have a gift. . .” As you glanced away bashfully, he felt that feeling in his chest again. Like his heart was being squeezed, but it didn’t hurt at all.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” You bowed formally, but a warm smile on full display.

“I want to sponsor you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Taehyung knew to be a sole artist’s patron was something to grow upon over years of friendship and reliability. Not something to be carelessly asked, for once it’s agreed upon, it’s hard to back out from. Any and all art work you would create would solely belong to Taheyung in his name. If you or he were to end the partnership, you would hold no claim to anything.

“I want you to make things for me, I want to ensure you have any and all supplies you may need. Anything you want, it shall be yours. Say yes and I swear to you, I will do nothing but honor your name and your work,” he pleaded. He needed your art in his life, this feeling in his chest he did not want to be rid of. All he could ever want was you. 

You gnawed on your lower lip, eyes focusing to the ground as you thought over his offer. Taehyung felt as if he could go mad as he waited for your answer.

“On one condition,” you parroted your words from your first meeting.

“Anything. Name it, and it shall be yours.”

Your hand came up to rest on his forearm. The feel of your touch burned right through his clothes, nearly having Taehyung ready to rip his sleeve off just to feel the touch of your hand against his skin. When your eyes met his, he felt as if he would melt right on the spot. “That I will not be one of your artists. I will be known as your only artist. So long as I may refer to you as my prince.”

“As you wish.”

#btsghostie #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #kim taehyung x male reader #taehyung x male reader #bts x male reader #bts prince au #prince taehyung x reader #prince taehyung x artist reader

[justimajin]

The Profit & Love Statement » Pt. 1

↠ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

↠ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ (5.5k), Office AU (lowkey E2L vibes) 

↠ Summary: The workplace isn’t for everyone. It can be mundane and repetitive, with some describing it like a nuisance and others as a blessing. You’re the kind that leans more towards the latter and while it does make you an ideal candidate for many things, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind that is the new employee.

↠ Warnings: pg13, some swearing

↠ A/N: This one going to be a little different from my usual series. There’s probably going to be some inaccuracies with the business terminology and huge warning - there’s a lot of turtle paced development coming up ahead 🐢

↠ Next Update: Tuesday, July 25 (series masterpost here)

The rain drizzles down, pellets of water smacking against the window.

A huff of warm breath leaves you, the mist clouding up the surface of the glass. Your drooping eyes fixate on the roads outside, watching pools of water forming along the streets as another yawn bubbles up from your throat. 

Blinking wearily, a sudden jolt has your body swaying. Your hands immediately shoot out, tightly gripping onto the pole next to you for dear life. 

Looking left and right, recognition sparks through your eyes as your form becomes stationary. You whirl around, hands pushing against the multitude of strange bodies that block your exit.

“Excuse me.” You hiss, ignoring the lady that sends you a glare from your insistent urge to bypass her. 

You end up finally making your way through, shoulders dropping down with relief. However, the moment your feet advance forward to slide through the plastic doors, they twirl and slam right on you. 

“HEY!” You shout right away, eyeing the bus driver that rushes to step on the gas. Curling your fingers into a fist, you harshly knock against the door, “Let me out!”

The driver scrutinizes his brows at you from his rear mirror, resulting in you knocking against the plastic again with your lips set in a firm line. 

After he opens the doors with an annoyed grunt, you immediately hurl yourself outside and let out a satisfied gasp, not recalling how long you had been packed with so many individuals. 

Icy water sloshes against your feet and drowses your hair as you attempt to walk through the chaotic weather, heels hitting against the gravel. At one point you accidentally step into a puddle that engulfs your entire heel and it’s not long before the sensation of freezing cold water seeps in.  

You wince, letting out a lengthy sigh. 

Oh, the amount of things you would do for a car. 

Shaking the wistful thought away, the sight of a broad building comes across from you, the hue of black eliciting nothing but gratitude from the centre of your chest. 

Heading inside, you practically jab at the button to your floor in an instant, attempting your hardest to derail your focus from how water has begun to collect at the bottom of your feet. A familiar ding alerts you of your destination, the soles of your shoes meeting carpet. 

Your eyes are zeroed in on your watch as you rush towards the narrow hallway in a frenzy, grip tightening on your bag. The moment the sight of a white desk greets your ears, your shoulder slump down with relief. 

A woman sits directly behind it, eyes glued to the monitor before her as her hands move at the speed of light. She appears to be in her late twenties, a black blazer covering her white dress shirt and accompanied with a dark skirt.

Her eyes light up at your arrival, “Y/N!” 

You sweep by the receptionist, greeting her welcoming disposition with an exhausted one. “Morning, Bora.” 

Hastily leaving her off with a simple smile, you promptly head into the hallway where rows and rows of cubicles whizz by your quickened pace, alongside the addition of multiple doors that lead into individual offices. 

As your eyes dart around, the sudden swinging of a door has you immediately freezing. 

The words Human Resources written on a plaque flashes before your eyes as the door is promptly shut, a tall dark-haired man dressed in a white dress shirt and green tie emerging out. The scent of coffee fills the air immediately, his feet automatically revolving into your direction. 

His eyes are wide as he nearly bumps into you, practically seconds away from spilling the bitter liquid all over you. 

“Oh my god!” He exclaims, hands clamped around his drink, “I am so sorry‒ Did I get any on you?!” 

You peer down at your shirt, only remains of rain sticking to the material left behind as you shake your head. 

“I don’t think so?” 

“Are you sure?” He quickly fumbles around, frantically examining around you. 

You chuckle from his concern. “I’m fine, Hoseok.” 

Although you’ve put his worries to rest, he doesn’t seem convinced as a ㅅ pout rises on his lips. His eyes divert, suddenly narrowing themselves at your form. 

It only takes him a mere couple of seconds to state the obvious. 

“Y/N, why do you look like someone just dumped a bucket of water on you?” 

“It’s the weather.” You say with a sigh, glancing at the drops of water continuing to collect on the ground and soak the carpet. 

Hoseok snaps his fingers, “Say no more.” 

You’re left in confusion as he abruptly disappears into the HR office, emerging out with his coffee in one hand and a towel in the other. 

You’re relieved when he passes the latter to you and gestures behind him, “I brought in a bunch after I saw the weather outside.” He laughs, “Looks like it hasn’t been the nicest to everyone today.” 

You smile at that and he extends his arms, gesturing for you to take off your coat and hand him your bag. You begin walking towards your work station and he follows behind with your belongings, casually sipping down on his coffee. 

“So what’s up? How are things with you?” 

“Not too bad.” You’re attempting to shake some of the water out of your sleeves, drying them off with the towel immediately, “I've been pretty busy with our latest product launch. It seems like the company didn’t think of it as a huge investment and the numbers are just flatlining at this point.” 

Hoseok chuckles at your straightforward tone, “I meant you Y/N, not work.” He peers at you, asking in the sincerest of tones, “How have you been?” 

“Oh.” At his scrutinizing stare, you shake it off, “I guess I’ve been alright.” 

“You sure?” He quirks up a brow, “I’ve heard a lot of ‘I’m fine’s’ and ‘I’m doing alright’ lately and call me a little crazy, but I’m starting to get worried.” 

“And what?” You ask amused, “Should I report to Human Resources about my concerns?” 

“Yes!” Hoseok dramatically exclaims, pointing towards you with hopeful eyes, “Just like that! I’ve heard one of their assistants over there is really considerate and willing to listen to any problems his friend’s are having.” 

You chuckle at Hoseok’s naive disposition, knowing he’s doing his absolute best to convince you. However, you merely continue to dry your locks off with the towel he’s given you, walking alongside him. 

“I know he’s like that, trust me,” You add on, “I really do.” 

Hoseok grins, “‒But he needs to be focusing on his employee’s more than his friends.” 

Hoseok pouts at your reluctance, but you simply brush it off.

“Now, what about you?” You redirect the spotlight, “Weren’t you supposed to be visiting your parents this weekend?” 

He lets out a groan and you chuckle, “I’m taking it didn’t go so well?” 

“Of course it didn’t go well!” He huffs, “They asked me when I’m going to get a girlfriend and my mother kept saying that she’s not getting any younger anytime soon and that neither am I, and, well….” 

Your brows knit together, “What?”

“She’s been very expressive about wanting grandkids.” Hoseok says with a sigh. You have to try your best to stifle down your laughter, something that he can see is desperately trying to claw its way out. 

“Go ahead, laugh.” Hoseok says with a roll of his eyes, “My parents badly want a Hoseok junior running around and I had to explain to them that it takes two to make one.” 

Your laughter instantly dies out. 

“You didn’t.” 

“I did.” Hoseok hums, reaching your department. “In short and very explicit details. Turns out that doesn’t work enough to gross out your parents.” 

“Oh my god.” You shake your head, planting a hand against your face. Hoseok laughs at your natural embarrassment, walking you over to your cubicle. 

“What?” He asks amused, “Don’t you feel great after listening to good ol’ Hobi’s tales of woe?” 

You sit down at your desk, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Oh I do, thank you so much for enlightening me with the information.” 

“Anytime~” 

Hoseok departs with a silly grin on his features, something has you shaking your head in disbelief as you wave him off. You roll your chair closer to your desk, waiting for your computer to reboot as you peer around. 

The office is wide and expensive, multiple floors and separate divisions spanning across the building. Your work area lies within the Sales and Finances department, a sector that involves monitoring revenues and expenses, along with ensuring that resources are used to their best capability without skewing away from the company’s budget. Within the department, you work towards the first part of the two.  

At the sound of shuffling from your right, your eyes dart over. 

There’s a head full of russet brown hair seated next to your cubicle, his form being nearly invisible if you hadn’t caught a brief flash of him. His narrowed eyes are fixated on the spreadsheet on his monitor as his right hand jots down a handful of numbers. 

You smile, “Morning, Yoongi.”

He lets out a small sound of acknowledgement, barely leaving his gaze from his monitor to respond back.

Your screen finally lights up, eyes trailing all over it. The very first thing you do is scroll through your email, your eyes racking through any pending ones from either your coworkers or the department that need your immediate assistance. After scrutinizing the couple that have already been sitting in there from this morning, you attempt to examine the notice you’ve gotten about the recent product that was launched, a sales report being requested.

A sigh leaves your lips at the realization, before you lean towards the barrier that separates yours and Yoongi’s desks.

“I’m assuming you’re already working on sending them a finance report?”

Yoongi hums, letting out a sigh that seems to match your own. 

“If you ask me, they’re being really fussy about this.”

A smile quirks on your lips.

If there was anything you’d love about Yoongi, it was his brutal honesty.

“It’s already failed, I don’t think analyzing the trend for the third time will do much.” You mutter in response, already conjugating information on your screen despite your words.

You hear a small chuckle from Yoongi’s side, “I’d love to hear you repeat those words to management.”

If there wasn’t a plastic wall separating the two of you, you could almost bet he would be getting a playful glare from your end.

You redirect your gaze back to your screen. 

The phone company you work at is supposed to be top notch, a booming competitor in the industry. However, ever since a recent product launch for an absolutely new cell phone with slightly upgraded features went wrong in the market, your department has been receiving quite a bit of heat.

No one wants to lose money – in fact you can understand the company’s frustration. But unfortunately you can’t reason with their inability to comprehend that they’ve indeed lost money and constantly analyzing trends won’t do them much good if they want to cut their losses for the long term.

Before you can question Yoongi on what he’s writing off for the profit and loss statement, the sound of footsteps approaching you grabs your attention. 

In an instant, your head is raised, back straightened and a professional smile tugging on your lips.

“Y/N.” The woman calls, dressed in a formal black business suit with a clipboard in her hands. Her full name is written on a nameplate that sits right below her long brown locks, paling in comparison to the simple employee tag that’s clipped to your clothes.

“Soyou.” You politely greet, acknowledging your manager’s appearance.

“Do you have a minute?” She ponders, glancing at your screen. 

There’s a sales report with your name on it and hours of rebuttal with Yoongi on your to-do list, but you shove those thoughts away with a polite ‘of course’.  

“Excellent.” She smiles and you follow behind, the familiar walls greeting you immediately. Ushering you to sit down, you oblige as she leans back on her desk, facing you.

Having a conversation with your manager isn’t out of ordinary in regards to any updates on your work, but the fact that Soyou wants to speak with you privately raises some unease on your part.

You can only hope that your work performance has been satisfactory. 

“I wanted to discuss a matter with you.” Instantly, your eyes are on alert. 

She pivots, grabbing a file from behind her. “We’ve just hired a new employee.”

Your stare morphs into confusion for a moment as she flips through the papers in her hand, “It’s important for him to receive some training and we’ve mandated that he'll be an intern for the company first.”

Although relief floods through your form at the simple new hiring, you can’t dim down any of the confusion. Interns are usually those that work within an organization for a small period of time, mainly to get some experience under their belt for their resumes. 

But this is an employee that’s already been hired, so why is the company accepting him just as an intern first?

Despite all the questions and scenarios lingering in your mind, you politely nod as Soyou continues, “He needs to shadow an employee from our Sales department for a few days, which is why I’ve brought you here.” 

Job shadowing was usually done for newer employee’s to get comfortable within their new job roles. As the name implies, these employees are given them the opportunity to follow around another person within the company like a ‘shadow’ and be able to observe how they deal with things on the job. 

You hum, understanding that essentially you’re being asked to be a mentor, “I understand.” 

“Good.” Soyou puts the file away, crossing her arms with a smile, “I’ll be checking in on your progress and if there are any concerns, please let me know.”

You nod to her words, rising from your seat. Truthfully, you’re not that ecstatic at the idea of someone observing you during such a heavy work period, but you suppose it wouldn’t be too much to handle compared to what you do on a daily basis.

Soyou leads you outside her office but your feet halt, a sudden thought sparking in your mind.

“Soyou–“

She spins around, confusion etched on her features.

Your manager is standing right in front of you, in private, away from any ease-dropping ears. 

The golden opportunity slips away as easily as it came. 

“Thank you.” You plaster on a smile, “For this opportunity. I’ll do my best.”

“I would hope so.” She says with a smile, escorting you out. You want to internally groan already, frustrated with yourself beyond belief.

“Before I forget–“ She stops the door from shutting, your eyes wide. “Kim Seokjin will be here promptly tomorrow morning.”

Your brows knit together, “The intern that will be shadowing you.”

Recognition dawns on you and you nod, turning around to leave the area. However in the midst of heading back to your workplace, your brows stay knitted together, feet slowly moving.

“Kim…Seokjin?” You mumble. There’s a certain ring to it that makes you think it sounds familiar, but there’s no face that you can place on it.

With a sigh, you shake your head, knowing you’ll find out who he is soon enough.

***

Although the morning has just begun, it’s not long before you’re occupied with things as you work towards completing your report. But even though there’s a set of numbers and a bright screen flashing right against your eyes, your mind seems to be preoccupied elsewhere.

You decide to take a break after a couple of hours, returning with a cup of coffee only to see the cubicle next to you entirely empty. Setting your cup aside, you peer back and forth for a couple of minutes before noticing Yoongi returning.

Your eyes widen as you notice Soyou’s lingering around her office.

He sits down with a grunt, annoyance etches on his features.

“Did you get called in too?”

Yoongi’s gaze darts over to you, eyes narrowed as he hums.

Your voice drops into a whisper, “Is it about the new employee?”

His eyes look around before he’s leaning closer to you, “Soyou said he was going to be an intern before getting officially hired and that he needs to shadow an employee.”

Your brows contort, “Wait, what?”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just…” You shake your head, “I got the same talk from her. Why are they hiring an employee as an intern and then asking him to follow us both around?”

“It’s weird.” Yoongi states, vocalizing your thoughts right away. “Almost like they haven’t decided if they want to officially hire him or not.” 

You nod and he shrugs with a sigh, “There’s not much we can do about it.”

You hum, watching him scan over the contents of his screen in between your conversation. You ultimately agree that he’s right – even though all the variables in the equation don’t make sense, it’s something you have to do regardless.

***

The end of a long day of work is the most gratifying feeling ever.

Your sore back is on the verge of thanking you when you stretch, legs finally waking up from their slumber. The floor is nearly empty, the majority of your coworkers having left as you spent the remaining time finishing up your report. 

Which is displayed on your monitor as a relieved smile curls on your lips. You make the decision of handing it in tomorrow and the monitor is turned off, displaying pitch black. 

Departing out of the building, you take a step back, grimacing at the sight of rain. 

“Y/N!” 

You spin around in surprise as Hoseok approaches you, holding up a newspaper over his head with a giant smile. 

You blink, “What are you still doing here?” 

“I was a bit backlogged with work.” Hoseok sheepishly smiles. He suddenly shifts, pointing behind him, “But I luckily ran into Yoongi while I was leaving!” 

Yoongi appears within seconds, hair soaking wet from the weather. 

Hoseok frowns, “I told you to grab an umbrella.” 

Yoongi turns to him with a deadpan expression, “And I told you I forgot to bring one.”

Hoseok shakes his head in exasperation and you muse at how Yoongi’s practically being doused with water, not caring enough to shield himself like Hoseok. 

“What?” Yoongi ponders at your smile, “Is there a problem?” 

You shake your head, “I was just thinking about how you look like a cat that’s being forced to take a bath.” 

Yoongi playfully rolls his eyes at you and Hoseok snickers, before his eyes suddenly light up. 

“Oh, Y/N! Did you get a chance to talk to Soyou?” 

A sound of dismay leaves you and Yoongi raises a brow. 

“I’m assuming things didn't go well?” 

You nod, gesturing for Hoseok to stand with you closer to the building so he isn’t being poured on anymore. You gesture towards Yoongi too, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles there’s only enough space for two people. 

“Yeah…” You mumble, “Do you guys think I’m working hard enough?” 

It’s a thought that truthfully lingers in your mind ‒ hours of work ultimately being futile when you’re nowhere near an advancement in your pay. 

“Man, is that even a question?” Hoseok chuckles. 

You softly smile in return, but Yoongi speaks up. 

“You do.” He says, intently staring at you, “You’re very efficient. It takes a certain skill set to get through a horrendous product launch and to properly forecast the aftermath of it.”

Your eyes widen and Hoseok stares at Yoongi stunned, his mouth wide open. 

He plants a hand on his shoulder, “T-That was beautiful, Hyung.” 

Yoongi scrunches up his nose, recoiling at Hoseok’s words. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You sincerely say, “It means a lot coming from someone who's a workaholic.” 

“You do work a lot.” Hoseok turns his attention to Yoongi, “Like seriously, when do you even find the time to sleep after having Yoonsun and Haru?” 

At the mention of his kids, Yoongi deeply sighs. 

“I don’t.” 

Hoseok stares at him baffled, but you nod, “I guess I can understand that.”

“Oh yeah, Yuna’s like what? Ten?” 

Yoongi frowns, “Isn’t she fourteen?” 

“She is fourteen.” You state, glancing at Hoseok perplexed. He merely pouts, saying that these days there’s no way of telling if someone is ten or fourteen and Yoongi responds with the fact that you actually can and perhaps Hoseok was getting a lot older than he hoped. 

Hoseok shakes his head immediately, “Alright, alright, enough of that.” His eyes spark, “Are you guys up for grabbing dinner together?” 

Yoongi hums as you shake your head right away with a wince, “Maybe another night, I’m working a shift tonight.” 

Hoseok nods understandably, waving you off with Yoongi as you turn to leave. 

Even though the day has come to a halt, it’s as if your entire day has just restarted. 

Your business attire is exchanged for a frilly white apron strung around your waist, a smile plastered on your lips and a notepad with a pen in your hands. 

“Can I interest you in any of our specials?” Your friendly eyes flicker between the middle-aged couple currently in the midst of scanning through their menus. 

The man shakes his head without a response, appearing as if he were annoyed from your presence. You patiently wait for them to make a choice, ignoring the fact that the place is already packed with bustling voices and that there’s two children running around, presumably with high amounts of sugar in their systems. 

“Why are all these options so expensive?” The woman huffs, staring at you for an answer. 

“All of our dishes are made from scratch.” You politely reply. 

She lets out a noise of discontent, lazily handing the menu to you, “Fine, whatever. Get me this mushroom soup dish, I’m starving.” 

Her eyes snap up to her husband, who is still taking his sweet time, “Will you order already?” 

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” He says with a sigh. You take there menus kindly, turning around to serve the next tabl‒

“HEY!” A man next to the table you’ve just served pounds his hand against the table, “I placed my order half an hour ago! Where is it?!” 

You meekly bow, a strained smile on your lips, “We have a full house today so the wait time has increased. I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir.” 

“Fancy establishment, my ass.” He spits under his breath, glaring at you from the corner of his eye. You hurriedly make your way over to the counter leading to the kitchen, already feeling the man’s stare bleeding into the back of your skull. 

“Is order 17 ready?” You ask, slumping against the long table. Your clothes are in a disarray from bustling around and there’s a particular deep ache radiating within the soles of your feet. 

An instant small ding has your eyes lighting up in relief, a handful of plates arriving in your hands. You carefully balance them with your palms and turn around, cautiously but promptly heading towards your table. 

Suddenly there’s a jab to your leg, one of the children let loose nearly bumping into you. You attempt to steady yourself but a woman abruptly smacks into your shoulder. 

A loud crash echoes within the restaurant, all heads whipping around. 

The woman stands in front of you, a nice helping of wine splattered all across her white blouse. Her son ‒ who you presume was the one running around you, is hiding behind her, a mischievous smile on his face. 

Your wide eyes peer up, barely acknowledging that there’s an entire serving of spaghetti falling from your apron. As soon as the realization sinks in, you move to pick up the fallen food and plates. 

A hand stops you. 

You can only stare as the woman’s face turns into the same shade of wine. 

“How dare you?!” She nearly screams, “What if my boy got injured from the glass?!?” 

You almost want to scoff, baffled by her concern. Her son shouldn’t have been running around in a restaurant in the first place, nearly having bumped into you if his mother hadn’t come running after him. 

You were just a waitress for god’s sake, not meant to be someone’s babysitter. 

You simply grind your teeth and lean down in response, picking up the broken pieces of glass from the ground. 

She shakes her head in disapproval, “What kind of wretched server doesn’t even care for her customers?!” Her voice implodes again, catching everyone’s attention, “Where’s your Manager?!” 

Your hands instantly freeze, balling up into fists again. The Manager card is one you’ve heard of many times and unlike most establishments, yours tend to love the policy where the customer walks away happy. 

A sigh leaves your lips and you swear this woman is burning lasers into you while looking like she was ready to pounce at any moment. 

Two hands abruptly reach out for the fallen pieces. 

You look up wide-eyed, astonished to find a pair of doe eyes leaning over with a giant tray, his hands hurriedly placing the pieces on it.

Once done, he rises to his feet and faces the woman. “It wasn't in our intentions for your evening to go this way.” He apologetically smiles, “Our Manager is at the front desk and would like to speak with you.” 

Although still infuriated, the prospect intrigues her and you almost want to roll your eyes, knowing that she’ll probably walk away from this encounter with a free meal while your hands are filled with tiny pieces of glass and leftover spaghetti. 

You stand up and he turns, gesturing towards the back door. 

***

The sink is turned on and there’s a rag within your hands, viciously scrubbing out leftover pasta sauce out of your white apron. It’s nearly midnight and customers have started to finally leave, granting you the opportunity at not having to walk around with food on your clothes. 

“Careful, you’ll probably destroy the fabric if you keep scrubbing it like that.” 

The back door closes and you turn around to see Jungkook. He’s still wearing an apron and there’s a tray in his hands that he places down on the counter. 

You shake your head, muttering underneath your breath, “I just don’t understand why they insist on bringing their kids in here if they aren’t going to look after them.” 

Jungkook hums, leaning over the sink and plucking the apron from your hands. 

Your brows furrow at the action, “I know what you mean.” He begins scrubbing in circles, the stains coming out much better compared to your rigorous technique.

He gestures behind him. “If it makes you feel better, there’s a leftover slice of chocolate cake with your name on it.” 

Your eyes widen, “You’re joking.” 

You inch yourself towards the tray he brought in with him, eyeing it down carefully before lifting up the top portion. 

Surely enough, there’s a slice of chocolate cake underneath it. Your jaw drops and you spin around, only to see Jungkook cheekily smiling. 

“Where did you get this?” You ask in astonishment, grabbing a fork already. 

Jungkook shrugs, “Apparently one of the couples ordered our speciality cake but only took one slice and claimed it was too sweet.” He chuckles, “Plus I figured it was time to celebrate another screaming customer.” 

Your shoulders slump down as a groan leaves you from the memory and he laughs at your reaction. 

“Why do they always blame the employee’s for everything?” 

He shakes his head, “Because we’re entirely responsible for this place even though we just get paid minimum wage.” 

You snort, continuing to eat your cake. 

“So how has the job search been going lately?” 

Jungkook lets out a sigh, “It hasn’t been so bad. I’ve applied to some places and I’m just hoping for the best.” 

His eyes suddenly light up, “Oh‒ I applied for your company too by the way.” 

“Really?” He nods and a smile curls on your lips, “It would be amazing to have you there.” 

“Yeah, I saw an advertisement for customer service and thought I’d give it a shot.” He points a warning finger in your direction, “Don’t tell Hoseok though. Last time I visited, he practically launched himself on me.” 

You laugh, aware Hoseok could be overly doting sometimes without realizing it. Jungkook raises his arms, a squeaky clean apron emerging within seconds. 

Your eyes widen and he hands it to you with a grin, “How did you‒?” 

“One of many skills I've learned from working here is how to get stains properly out of aprons.” 

You smile at him and he returns it. 

It’s not long before you’re leaving the place, feet badly aching and a chilling breeze greeting you outside. You and Jungkook end up waiting half an hour in it for a bus to come along and by the time it does, you can’t wait to get home and for the day to be finally over. 

You huff entering the room, form shivering and your hands tightened on your bag. You juggle it in between with your keys, one of your legs stretched out to hold the door open in the process.

Your eyes rack over the small apartment complex. The low ceiling results in your head having to occasionally lower, floorboards creaking as your feet shuffle against the cold hardwood. A kitchen is situated to your right, with a long narrow hallway leading into the living room.

As you carefully take your shoes off, your eyes roam around. It’s dead silent and you quietly pad across the wooden floorboards. 

Suddenly a pair of upside down eyes are staring at you brightly. A hand rests against your racing heart and you recall occasionally forgetting that your apartment’s layout consists of her bedroom being right above the front door.

Yuna giggles like she knows she’s accidentally frightened you again and you scoff, a warm smile spreading on your lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” 

She smiles, “I was, but then I heard the sound of your keys.” 

You shake your head, setting down your bag, “Did you get the chance to eat something?” 

She nods right away, “Was school okay?” 

She nods again and the corners of your lips tug up at the basic answers. Her eyes flicker, pointing towards your right hand. 

“What’s that?” 

“Oh, uh, this?” You look over to where your keys still are, a handful of letters clutched in them, “It’s just today’s mail.”

She nods, slowly lifting her head to re-enter her room again. You let out a low yawn, cracking the aching muscles of your neck and back as you head into the living room. Even though you know you need to head into the kitchen to make yourself something, you never subject your excoriating cooking skills onto your younger sister, already having acknowledged that it wouldn’t be wise to poison two people instead of just one.

With a low exhausted exhale, you scatter the multiple letters onto the table and stare at them with crossed arms. 

A deep frown settles onto your features.

Shaking your head, you decide to open all of them.

It begins with electricity. Then hydro. Rent even pops up, and the list only continues.

Your eyes scatter over the papers and the accompanying zero’s they always liked to show. However as your eyes sweep over the contents, there’s one letter that you haven’t yet regarded.

It’s different compared to the rest, and your lips pursue as you begin opening it.

Once you unfold it, it takes only a handful of words for your eyes to widen.

A loud scoff leaves your lips, the letter going straight into the trash. The sound of footsteps suddenly greet you and you quickly collect the rest of the letters into your arms, stacking them together and immediately setting them aside.

“Y/N?” 

Yuna stares at you with wide eyes and you spin around, “What is it, Yuna?” 

She curiously tilts her head to the side, “Is everything okay?” 

You wonder if the bags underneath your eyes or the fatigue in your shoulders is obvious. 

You warmly smile. 

“Everything’s just perfect.”

#btswritingcafe #btsghostie #ficswithluv #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin fanfic #bts jin fanfic #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #kim seokjin fluff #bts seokjin fluff #jin angst #bts jin angst #bts jin office au #kim seokjin office au #bts office au #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jin x reader

[joonary]

banana clip | jhs

↳ summary: he’s your roommate and your best friend. that was enough of a reason for the heartsick feeling in your stomach at the thought of him leaving, wasn’t it? 

but even so, with him in tokyo and you in los angeles, you can’t help but wonder if he looks both ways every time he crosses your mind.

↳ genre: fluff; angst; roommate au; study abroad au (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing); friends to lovers; jung hoseok x reader

↳ rating: pg-13

↳ warnings: swearing, mild alcohol consumption, pining and overthinking, timeskipping but all of it is denoted by timestamps, introvert hoseok indulgence

↳ word count: 25.1k

↳ a/n: can you believe i plotted this fic in 2019? and then it ended up being nothing like my original outline LOL. heavily inspired by hoseok being an infj and his s-tier instagram usage. unbeta’d as per usual, but dedicated to rose @kinktae​ for her roommate hobi dream (which i included, minus the **** ******** unfortunately). messed around a lot stylistically and characterization-wise in this fic, please feel free to hit me up and let me know what you think!

[date unknown, 2022; 1:46 AM PST]

Laundry is always best done in the presence of another. 

Well, not necessarily. If you think back to the days when you lived at home, you would purposely do your own laundry in the wee hours of the night, the presence of your mother or siblings in the cramped laundry room with you being more counterproductive and energy-consuming than anything else. 

Not even to mention your first year of university, where you had done your laundry in pockets of time between classes, feeling the awkwardness and dread bubbling up in the back of your throat the second you poked your head into the laundromat and saw another student doing their own chores at the same time as you. 

It didn’t matter if they didn’t even try to make conversation with you; you preferred to do household chores alone–often popping a playlist on and letting your brain run on autopilot as you cleaned–and there was nothing wrong with that.

But this–this is different. Hoseok looks just as sleepy as you and twice as stubborn, refusing to hit the sack until at least all of your shared and sorted piles of clothing have made it into the dryer. 

(Clothes today, sheets and blankets tomorrow. That was what your agreed-upon, riveting plans for the weekend with your roommate entailed.)

He makes for a good laundry partner though, the pair of you sitting cross-legged on the living room carpet (which was vacuumed this morning by the man himself, by the way), your shared Spotify playlist turned into white noise with the dozens of quick conversations you’ve thrown back and forth between the soft thuds of folding clothes. 

“I’m gonna get some water, want something?” you ask, standing up and dusting non-existent dust off your pants. 

(They’re not even your pants, actually, but a pair of Hobi’s basketball shorts that you were borrowing for the weekend alongside one of his sweatshirts. When it came to clothes, his closet outnumbered yours ten-to-one, which is exactly how borrowing his clothes while yours were in the wash for the weekend became just another part of your routine.

All of his shit was vastly more comfortable than yours was, anyways–it almost had you looking forward to weekends like this.)

“Mmm, maybe a CapriSun?” Hoseok decides, eyes lighting up like it’s the best idea he’s had all night. And it is.

“Shit, I might get one of those instead too,” you contemplate, already making your way to the refrigerator. 

“Wild cherry for me!” You know by now that that was exactly what he would say next. 

“You’re the only person who likes that flavor, I swear.”

“I only like it because you drink all the Pacific Cooler every time we buy.” He cranes his neck enough to make eye contact with you at your place in front of the fridge, a dramatic lilt to his voice. “It’s been so long that I don’t even remember what any non-Wild Cherry juice tastes like…”

Now he’s just fucking with you. With a roll of your eyes and a smile way too big to hide any fondness behind it, you toss the juice pouch halfway across the room towards him, which he catches effortlessly in one hand. 

You’re in the middle of puncturing the thin film of where your straw is supposed to go in your own juice box when the washing machine beeps to signal yet another finished load. Your roommate is already springing to his feet before you can react, muttering a quick “I’ll get it” as he squeezes past you into the hallway, one of his hands brushing against your upper arm and making your heart leap into your throat. 

The feeling doesn’t dissipate, even as you make your way back to your makeshift laundry-folding station on the floor.

Hoseok brings forth yet another basket of warm clothing from the dryer, and you fall back into your routine without addressing the incident. Like you always do–physical contact wasn’t anything amiss between you two, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause mild jolts of flusteredness every so often.

(Okay, sue you. It was perfectly normal to find your friends physically attractive without thinking about it any further, right? You were perfectly content with your relationship with Hoseok at the moment without wanting to take it any further.)

It’s nearly an hour later when Hoseok speaks again. There’s usually never this little chit-chat between you two for this long, but the late hour and the task at hand is mind-numbing enough for the pair of you to bask in at least a little silence. Or the effort of speaking is what’s truly exhausting–it’s not an uncomfortable lack of conversation, and the still-running playlist has you both occasionally humming along at random intervals to whatever track is playing.

(Yes, you’ve been at this for hours, and your music has yet to come to a halt. Living together for nearly two years and sharing a surprisingly large amount of taste in music from the get-go has resulted in a playlist of a whopping nine hours and forty-six minutes.)

Whatever the case, the next words out of your roommate’s mouth are ones that shouldn’t surprise you as much as they do.

“I’ve always wanted to study abroad.”

Now that’s something you’ve never heard him mention before. “Really?” 

He hums in confirmation before elaborating. “Yup. Deadline just passed for Fall semester programs, so I’d be planning for Spring instead.” 

“Aren’t we graduating next Spring though?”

“Yeah, I went to advising and depending on the program, I should be back before commencement in June. They don’t recommend it, but it’ll only be one semester,” he assures. The seam of his lips seals like it's a promise. “January to May, that’s it.” 

Shit, he went to academic advising for this? And the way he talks makes it seem like this is something that’s been on his mind for a while now, something he’s been planning and only just now geared up enough confidence to mention to you. 

“Yeah, I’ve always thought that studying abroad would be fun. But damn, six months is still a pretty long time.” You can’t even remember what you’d been up to six months ago. Off the top of your head, at least.

“Mhm, it’s just an idea though,” Hoseok says casually. But you can tell already that this is much more than that.

Months of preparation in advance before telling you or not, for you, he’d be willing to throw the entire idea down the drain and you know that. So you voice exactly what’s on your mind.

“I think it’s a great idea,” you smile. You revel in the way his eyes light up at your input. You value his input in your own turmoils just as much–it feels good to know that your friendship will always be mutually beneficial. “It’s not like you don’t have the money, especially now that Jiwoo’s out of grad school. Perfect setup for new experiences.”

“Experiences for what?” he can’t help but laugh, heart-shaped smile breaking yours in two. “The Instagram aesthetic? The chance to be humbled because I’m not really as trilingual as I put on my resume? There’s nothing I don’t have now that I could want out in Japan.”

“A girlfriend,” you joke. “You don’t have a girlfriend. But seriously, does there really have to be something in mind that you want in order for you to go? Sometimes you just gotta take the leap when you get the opportunity to, and the best experiences come that way.”

“Damn, someone’s getting existential,” he says with an expression of mock-surprise flashing across his brows, playing off your words easily. He takes another sip from his CapriSun pouch. Yours has long since been flattened and discarded to the floor. “Now it seems like you’re just trying to get rid of me.”

Brushing his snide remark aside with a playful eye-roll, you realize that he’s already got a country in mind. You shouldn’t be surprised, given the other extensive amounts of research he’s apparently done so far.

“Japan, huh?”

And for what feels like the hundredth time since this conversation began, he nods, only furthering your previous assumptions. It’s just like him to have all of his own thoughts organized before sharing them with you.

“Looked at other countries too, but their programs ran way longer than our own semesters do. Plus it just–I don’t know–caught my eye.” He elaborates even further, his interest in this endearing to you. “I went with my dad a couple times when he had business trips over in Tokyo and Osaka, but I think nine-year-olds appreciate vacationing completely different from how twenty-one-year-olds do.”

“I mean, it’s like two-thirds of a vacation, considering you still have to go to class and shit.”

He huffs out a small laugh. “Back then it was like two-thirds of a vacation too. I had a lot to learn.” 

“Guess so,” you sigh. You know he’s always had this immense pressure to manage a portion of his family’s country in the near future, but from what he keeps you updated on as of late, he’s much happier to be working in marketing, amongst other projects he’s taken on. 

When you first met Jung Hoseok nearly a year-and-a-half ago, he was a closed book. Not in the silent, mildly awkward mannerisms type-of-way like your neighbor Yoongi, but in the sense of where it was damn near impossible to know what he was thinking, and getting him to open up about anything about his personal life and work at all was like pulling teeth. 

You’re happy to know that he’ll gladly confide in you in just about everything now, but nonetheless, it always intrigued you with how good he was at only showing people exactly what he wanted them to see. Maybe it was all the wide smiles and loud outfits. 

Brushing your speculations aside, you propose another idea. “Hey, maybe now instead of being managing director of the Los Angeles branch of the company, you could be one over in Tokyo?”

Hoseok gives a narrowed eye smile. “Seriously, if you’re plotting to get rid of me, it’s not gonna be that easy.”

You smile with a wrinkle of your nose. “Damn. Back to the drawing board, then.”

Despite his words, you would never even dream of getting rid of him. Hell, even his proposed leave left something akin to loneliness to settle in the recesses of your mind. 

He’s your roommate and your best friend. That was enough of a reason for the heartsick feeling in your stomach at the thought of him leaving, wasn’t it?

[January 1st, 2023; 11:46 PM PST]

“You’re not bringing the condom shirt?”

Hoseok pops his head out of the closet at your question, the strips of tin foil in his hair gleaming in the change of lighting like a shitty 5’10” disco ball. 

“Should I?” he shoots right back, holding up a different button-up shirt by its hanger before laying it out on the bed beside dozens of other various articles of clothing.

“Ooh, I got a better idea. Lay it out over here and you can wear it to the airport instead, and I’ll take a shit ton of pics for you to post later.”

“You’re a genius, you know that?”

You’ve always admired Hoseok’s sense of fashion. From the brightly-colored ten pound shoes he wears to the plain white t-shirts, he manages to turn every place he goes into his own personal runway. He carries himself so coolly that he can make anything look good, honestly.

His organizational skills leave nothing to be desired, and this is no exception–for tonight, he’s just laying out all the clothes he plans on bringing with him to Tokyo, and tomorrow he’ll have that impromptu fashion show you’ve been begging him for as a secondary measure of what really should go and what should stay. Then it’s to the ironing board for all of it before hitting his suitcases. 

You’d think by now that you’d have picked up on at least some of his tidiness, but a side-by-side comparison of your closet to his would easily debunk that theory. 

This has been going on for hours, both of your opinions on certain outfits being thrown back-and-forth like a ping pong ball. 

(Remember what you said about him having trust in your judgment? Apparently that weight becomes lessened in terms of fashion, because Hoseok is having way too much fun debating you on how good his questionable outfit combinations were.)

Eyes beginning to grow heavy with sleepiness, you check the clock. His hair should be done right about now, right?

You approach him, standing while he sits on the edge of his bed, carding your fingers through the newly dyed mouse brown strands. You unfurl the nearest strip of tinfoil, triumph creeping into your smile when the highlighted strip turns out exactly the shade you pictured it to.

“Good?” he asks, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Nah, sorry but we have to shave your head now.”

He playfully shoves at your shoulder with a laugh before letting you pull him to his feet. And he follows you to the bathroom, making an incredibly good point when he tells you that even if it looks bad, he looks good in beanies anyways.

But the backup plan isn’t even necessary–he looks a little too good, if you’re being honest. You were by no means an expert at dyeing hair, but with the way Hobi’s highlights turned out, it might as well have been done professionally. He makes goofy faces at the mirror while you undo each chunk of tinfoil, growing more and more impressed at your handiwork as you go along.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say as you ruffle your fingers through his hair. 

“You like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head, meeting your eyes in the mirror. Always asking you for your input. He only laughs in disbelief when you nod your head vigorously.

“I’m serious! Like damn, I just got weak in the knees a little.”

He snorts this time. “You’re so ridiculous.”

You step beside him, inspecting his strands from a different angle. It’s seriously so unfair how pretty his side profile was.

“I can’t tell if you’re staring at me, or if you’re just tooting your own horn for how good it turned out,” Hoseok jokes pointedly, making his way back to the bedroom after you declare your answer that both were true. 

Aforementioned tidiness gets abandoned after a few more hours and tens of shirts later, when the realization settles in that Hoseok has too much clothes on his bed and too little surface area for him to be sleeping.

“Fuck this, we’re gonna do laundry again before I pack anyways,” Hoseok mutters, sleepiness overpowering his usually stable judgement as he shoves aside the pile of potential pants to pack to make enough room for the both of you to fit on his mattress. 

You honestly don’t even remember the exact moment that the both of you had nodded off to sleep, but you recall lying side-by-side like fish in a tightly-packed can while you chatter about all the things that are going to change in the coming months.

(Hoseok expresses disbelief, like he still can’t believe he’s actually going through with this. You flick his forehead while you reassure him that in ten years from now, he’ll be glad he went.)

You stay like that until the morning sun peeks through the blinds that he has perpetually drawn, the light scattered across the array of colored clothing that was now cast to the floor.

[January 7th, 2023; 3:33 PM PST]

The thing about California that you’ve grown to both love and hate over the years is the lack of a chill to the air, even amidst the peak of Winter.

It’s a welcome break from the sweltering heat that overtakes more than two-thirds of the year, but the lack of low temperature and wind leaves the air feeling stale. Or perhaps that was just you seeing the grass being greener on the other side where Hoseok will be going.

(In this case, the grass wouldn’t be greener, but covered in a blanket of snow like every romance drama’s winter. But you digress.) 

You feel as though you’re even more jittery than he is when you look at the boy through the rear view mirror, who has his phone out and camera aiming towards the LAX sign, the setting sun reflecting off the metal and bathing them in a lazy pink glow.

Yoongi’s behind the wheel and Hoseok insisted that you should sit shotgun, leaving him in the backseat with all his bags. Jiwoo had wanted to tag along as well, but she had gotten caught up at work and compensated by inviting you both over for dinner the previous night. There isn’t much being said currently, just the three of you humming along to whatever music you allow to come up on shuffle.

You can’t really blame Hobi’s uncharacteristically quiet attitude though. He’s been running around nonstop throughout the duration of this week trying to make sure that himself and all of his belongings would reach their destination safely, and even when he wasn’t moving physically, he was on the phone or sending emails back and forth with the university to ensure that the process was going smoothly. 

At least he’ll catch up on rest while he’s on the plane. Or perhaps right now too, with how (predictably) horrible LAX traffic was going.

“See, this is why we leave for the airport at least three hours early,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly. He takes his hands off the steering wheel to emphasize that your vehicle is currently at a complete stop.

“You sound like your dad,” Hoseok shoots right back, causing you to laugh.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Fuck, I am getting old, huh?”

Hoseok and Yoongi have known each other longer than you have known either of them, but the three of you get along so well that it feels like you’ve known each other your entire lives. Which is funny, honestly, considering that you and Hoseok hardly ever saw Yoongi to begin with. Not only because you have other friends and each other that you opted to hang out with more, but because Yoongi spent so much time working in his studio that even him taking a few hours off to take Hoseok to the airport–and to have lunch with you two beforehand, too–felt sentimental.

The car’s painfully slow movement leads you all to resort to classic road games to pass the time. By your sixth round of iSpy, you finally make it to the parking structure. 

Airports feel like liminal spaces to those who are immersed in it, but for those who are only there for drop-off and pick-up, all you feel is the chaos. From the traffic, to the checking in of bags, to finding the correct areas to go, you’re easily growing exhausted. The security line where Hoseok’s flight has directed him to go feels like a force field, knowing that this is where you’re going to have to say your final goodbyes. 

It’s a shame that Hobi can’t bring you and Yoongi all the way to the gate to wait with him. It only makes the countdown of time you have left together feel even shorter. 

Even with that in mind, no more sentimentalities are left to be said, you all opting for a much more casual line of conversation.

“What are you guys gonna do now?”

“Not even gonna lie, I’m hungry again,” you throw out. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods in agreement. “Figured you would be too, so I already planned not to be working for the rest of the evening so we can go somewhere.”

Hoseok looks just as shocked as you are at his planning ahead, but you’re the one who comments on it. “Damn, Yoongi’s just constantly playing 4D chess with himself, huh.” 

Hoseok throws his head back in a laugh so hard that you feel like you don’t even deserve it for your shitty quip. But the body language of his laugh is contagious, and you find yourself snickering right along with him. Even Yoongi lets out a pained laugh at his own expense.

“I’m already hungry too,” Hoseok nods after he settles down from his laughter. “I’m so excited. I love airport food.”

He’s so strange that it’s endearing. It’s not even the airline food he was excited for (which, understandable), but the overpriced Panda Express on the other side of the security check that he was setting his stomach on. Things he says like this only contribute to the ongoing list of things about your best friend you’ll never understand. 

Eventually, you know when you should leave though. Despite the fact that you almost selfishly want to stay here forever, if only to bask in the time you have left with Hobi, your excitement on his behalf reminds you that you’re stalling. The weariness you had seen in him in the car has also seemingly been replaced with the same enthusiasm you were feeling, now that he was alert and awake under the fluorescent LAX lighting.

“I’ll see you in March,” he promises. Just like what you had agreed on a few nights ago. He’ll be back for Spring Break for sure–but even with that promise in mind, there was three months separating you until then, so you hug him with enough strength for you to remember his presence for four. And he hugs you back equally tight, until you both can’t help but squeeze out a laugh at how close you are.

And then he does the same for Yoongi, and in place of where Yoongi will usually pull his tsundere act and resist Hoseok’s affection, he revels in it the same way you had instead. It’s so blatantly obvious how much the both of you are going to miss him, and how much he’s going to miss you in return. 

Yoongi and you can only watch as he proceeds forward towards the escalator, bag slung over his shoulder and head of brown hair fluffing as he moves. Every few steps he casts his gaze back, shooting you a smile and a wave before he continues onward.

He faces you one more time before the walkway meets the escalators, throwing another goofy grin your way as his facial features grow less and less distinguishable the further up he goes. Be it the distance or the growing anticipation in your gut that makes it so, but he’s disappearing out of sight and he’s disappearing fast.

You wave your last goodbye, and with the next blink that may or may not have had tears accompanying it, Hoseok is out of your line of vision and onto another chapter. And so are you.

[January 7th, 2023; 7:44 PM PST]

When you leave the airport, the LAX lettering is illuminated from below by a soft hue of blue against the canvas of a pitch black sky. The excess of city lights makes seeing stars nearly impossible, and absentmindedly you wonder if Hoseok has a better view of them from seven miles in the air.

“Don’t hate me.”

Your head cocks up and towards your companion from where you had been absentmindedly staring at the road, the blur of the city passing by. Yoongi’s hands have a tight grip on the steering wheel, like he’s expecting you to sock him because of what he says next. “You know how I said I figured you’d want to go out to eat after we leave the airport?”

You wait for him to continue in lieu of a response. “I invited a friend to come to dinner with us.”

A blink. Then, “Why?”

Great. As well-meaning as Yoongi was, you couldn’t believe he would spring something–or rather, someone–on you like this. He was just as socially awkward as you were, for crying out loud! You would have at least appreciated more of a warning than this. 

(Ideally four business days in advance, but you’ll take anything more than what he’s chosen to give, honestly.)

It’s not like you had any means of dodging the situation either–Yoongi was your ride home, unless you wanted to throw yourself into oncoming Los Angeles traffic instead of taking your chances with whatever friend-of-a-friend he was bringing along. You pretend you don’t actually contemplate it for a moment.

He shrugs, eyes forward and lips pursed in a slight pout. “Don’t know. He’s nice–I promise–and I thought it’d be nice. I figured we’d have more fun together than letting you just go home and mope about how much you’re gonna miss Hobi.”

You cock and eyebrow at him. “Don’t act like you don’t miss him already too.”

“I’m not pretending anything,” Yoongi pouts, raising his eyebrows and flexing his fingers against the steering wheel in self-defense. “But I know it’s hitting you five times as hard as it is me.”

“Pfft. I’d say someone is projecting a little,” you dismiss with a laugh. “And don’t say it’s a roommate thing, because if Namjoon were the one leaving instead of Hobi, do you really think you’d be as miserable as you think I am right now?”

Yoongi only wrinkles his nose in response. Cutely, you might add. “No. But that’s the difference between our households. You and Hoseok are best friends and do everything together. Namjoon is just some guy that lives in my house.”

You shake your head with a laugh. He’s unbelievable. “Yeah, whatever. And your brilliant solution to cure the loss of my best friend is to drain the life outta my social battery?”

He heaves out yet another sarcastic sigh as he puts his car in park outside of the restaurant. 

“Trust me, if I wanted to kill your social battery that badly, I wouldn’t have given you a warning at all. So speak to me nicely.”

[January 7th, 2023; 9:06 PM PST]

Per his word, Yoongi’s friend is nice.

The thing that strikes you the most about Kim Seokjin is his sense of humor, or rather, how much it contrasts from your own. And Yoongi’s too, for that matter–it makes you wonder how the hell the pair of them became friends to begin with.

They play off of each other well, though. Seokjin makes self-inflating jokes and outlandish claims, and Yoongi is always ready with a dry and quick-witted comeback. If Hoseok were here, he would say that the pair of them were like their own comedy skit. 

“Okay, hear me out. What’s your MBTI type?” Seokjin leans forward, as if to increase your engagement from where you sit across from him in the booth.

Yoongi lets out a groan. “Not this shit again.”

“Just shut up and let her answer, man.”

You frown, needing a second to think. It’s been ages since the last time you took the test. “An INTP, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Perfect. Riddle me this then, Y/N,” Seokjin says, folding his hands together like he’s about to ask you a question on Who Wants to be a Millionaire?. “Do you like fishing?”

What? 

“I mean, I guess so.” You can’t remember the last time you’d even thought about going fishing.

“Yes!” he cheers, like he’s a physicist who just discovered a new subatomic particle. Yoongi full-on face plants into the table. The former takes that as an opportunity to clarify: “I’m trying to convince Yoongi over here of my theory that all INTPs like fishing. We now have three pieces of evidence to go into my thesis: you, me, and him.”

“For the last time, Jin, I’m not an INTP, I’m an ISTP. ‘S’–as in you’re a fucking Sucker for thinking this is a valid theory. And besides, Y/N’s answer was half-assed and the only reason I like going fishing is because you drag me with you all the damn time.”

You laugh. “My answer was not half-assed. If you ever need funding for further research, you know where to find me.”

Yoongi looks more and more miserable the further you and Seokjin drag along the bit. He begins to regret introducing you, the biggest enabler known to man, to Jin of all people, the man who definitely does not need any more enabling outside of what he undeservedly already gives himself.

He has to admit though, he’s glad that you’re entertained by tonight’s antics–that was all part of the plan. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he didn’t want you to be sulky over Hoseok being gone.

He knows that the pair of you were just friends, and had no plans of that changing in the future. But still, you didn’t have to be in a romantic relationship for you to miss him as if he were a significant other.

The set line of concentration between Yoongi’s brow is dissolved when Seokjin nudges him to ask to maneuver through and out of the booth, telling him that he needs to use the bathroom. 

As he scoots out, Yoongi wonders why the hell he didn’t sit in the deeper end of the table to begin with. Two drinks paired with Jin’s already fidgety nature made for a bad combination this early on in the night, especially before food had arrived to distract him. Bladder: 1, Seokjin: 0.

But with the new friend’s absence, you can converse with Yoongi more comfortably.

“This is so weird.”

“What is?”

“I can’t remember the last time I went out and Hoseok wasn’t there.”

You love Yoongi, you really do. But you wish he would stop looking at you from across the table like the “No Bitches?” meme of Megamind. As if he were any better.

“Don’t look at me like that! You act like I don’t know that you spend sixty-nine percent of your time cooped up in your studio.”

Yoongi sighs and shakes his head at you again, whether it be from your actual comment, or your inopportune choice of number. But either way, you’re spurred to continue your rant. “And you spend the other thirty-one percent of your time sleeping or with Hoseok and me! So don’t act like I’m the only one who misses him.”

“You know the more defensive you are, the more you’re only proving my point right?”

Before you can form a response to his dry and pointed question, Seokjin’s speaking to announce his return.

“The bathrooms are really nice here,” Seokjin says, eyes lit with approval as he sits back down across from you, as if he were commentating on the interior design and not the efficiency of their plumbing. “The toilets probably have the same sucking force of a black hole.”

And before you can even speak, Yoongi’s already shooting back his own deadpan comment. “That wouldn’t be possible because toilets have a max PSI of fifteen.” 

You really do wonder if they’ve considered starting a podcast together.

Small talk has never really been your forte. Which is why you’re glad that Seokjin seems to be comfortable enough to circumvent that, aside from initial questions about what the other is studying and what you both do for work. But what catches his interest the most is when you mention that you play PC games on occasion.

“Do you play MapleStory?” he questions immediately, eyes lit with anticipation. 

You think for a moment. “Haven’t in a good while, but I definitely used to play a ton in high school.”

“Oh my God,” Seokjin says. “Can we get married?”

“Jin!” Yoongi says, brows knit in concern at his friend’s sudden question. Only for the older boy to raise his hands in comical defense.

“In the game, in the game!” he assures, causing you to laugh. “If we get married, we get bonus items, plus we share all of our Mesos and materials.”

“Like a two-man guild?”

“Exactly like a two-man guild!” Seokjin smiles as he nods excitedly. “See Yoongi-chi! She gets it!”

Yoongi definitely decides that introducing the pair of you is either the best or worst decision he’s ever made in his life. He’s still unsure of which side it’s leaning more towards.

At the end of the night, Seokjin asks you for your phone number. But like Yoongi said, his intention wasn’t to set you two up. All he wanted to do was expand your friend circle now that you couldn’t spend twenty-four hours a day with your roommate. 

And if that comes in the form of a guy who wants your contact information solely to help him grind in MapleStory, so be it. 

When you finally arrive home and bid Yoongi goodnight before slinking into your own now-empty condo, you find a follow request from what appears to be Seokjin’s Instagram account. Moments after you accept the invitation, you find another notification telling you that you’ve been tagged in his story.

You inspect the photo to ensure you don’t look stupid (for the intents of purposes of uploading it to your own story, yes, but also because Seokjin has a hell of a lot more followers than you, and who wouldn’t get nervous over that kind of thing?), but you’re relieved to find that you admittedly look really good. 

You can’t say the same for Yoongi though–the poor guy looks as though he were mid-sentence when Seokjin snapped the photo, leaving him partially blurred and cheeks puffed out. Not that it has any negative impact on his appearance; as Hoseok once said, Yoongi looks cute doing just about anything.

Swiping into Seokjin’s DMs, you type out a quick message.

[9:54 pm] jin 😗: Mentioned you in their story

[10:06 pm] you: You mentioned jin 😗 in your story

[10:06 pm] you: nice meeting you today :) also can you send me this pic?

[10:16 pm] jin 😗: yeah of course

[10:16 pm] jin 😗: IMG_298.jpg

[10:19 pm] you: thanks!

[10:19 pm] jin 😗: mhm :)

[10:20 pm] jin 😗: nice meeting you today too!

You heart his message before promptly sliding your phone into its charging port on your nightstand, commencing in your nightly routine.

Without Hoseok here, there’s no music playing throughout the entire house. There’s no loitering at the sink while you wait for your turn in the shower, no menial conversations about your day and the funny things that you overheard while you were on campus. 

You twiddle your thumbs for a moment once you’re ready for bed. You contemplate calling Hoseok to check in, but he should be somewhere over the Pacific Ocean right about now. Even though it’s more likely than not that he paid for in-flight WiFi, you’d rather let him sleep to prepare for the long days ahead.

With that thought in mind, you find yourself settling into bed sooner than usual, and drifting off into a heavy sleep.

[January 8th, 2023; 8:27 AM PST]

When you awake, you habitually reach out towards your phone’s place on your nightstand. It’s part of the luxury that comes with the weekend that you awoke naturally, rather than by an alarm clock. You only have the next few days to bask in that though, with the upcoming semester starting next week already.

Fumbling to unlock your cell phone, you swipe away any notifications that could be dealt with later. But your sights focus on one bubble of an Instagram notification in particular.

[5:12 am] jung hoseok: Replied to your story: replaced me already? :(

Unplugging your cell phone from its charger before rolling back over in bed, you grin at your screen, uncaring about how silly it must look—who else was home to judge you, anyways?—as you type out your reply.

[8:29 am] you: you know i could never

[8:29 am] you: how was your flight?

You smile at the incoming call notification that greets you almost instantaneously. 

[January 14th, 2023; 11:21 PM PST]

It’s not until a week later that you hear from Hoseok again. Not that that’s a bad thing, per se; you’re sure he’s had a ton of things to settle in, from his room, to his class schedule, to even just the mundanities of his day-to-day life that he’s had to adjust to accommodate living in another country. 

[11:21 pm] hobi 🌱: I’M A LIAR AND A CHEATER

[11:21 pm] hobi 🌱: 😭😭😭😭💦

[11:22 pm] you: ?

[11:22 pm] you: also PLEASE do not use 💦 as a crying emoji

He’s always done this—using emojis without a single drop of irony in his tone, regardless of whatever implications it may have to the broader internet. 

[11:23 pm] hobi 🌱: JUST LISTEN

[11:24 pm] hobi 🌱: i know i said i wanted to study abroad because my japanese was rusty as fuck

[11:24 pm] hobi 🌱: turns out i’m REALLY rusty

[11:24 pm] hobi 🌱: BUT MY ROOMMATES ARE BOTH KOREAN

[11:25 pm] hobi 🌱: AND THE GIRL I MET IN CLASS YESTERDAY IS FROM TEXAS 

[11:26 pm] hobi 🌱: SO I’VE PRETTY MUCH ONLY BEEN SPEAKING KOREAN AND ENGLISH

[11:26 pm] hobi 🌱: I HAVE PROBABLY SAID THREE SENTENCES IN JAPANESE OVER THE PAST WEEK

Okay. Maybe he’s not quite as settled as you assumed he’d be this early on. 

[11:27 pm] you: LMFAO

[11:27 pm] hobi 🌱: that’s all you have to say

[11:28 pm] hobi 🌱: your best friend is committing cardinal sins as we speak and all you have to say is “LMFAO”

Why the fuck is he so fast? Whether it be text messages, Instagram likes, Twitter replies, you name it–he responds within seconds, like he’s somehow mastered the art of telepathy with his iPhone screen.

You quickly erase your initial message in lieu of responding to his sudden accusations. 

[11:29 pm] you: at least give me a minute to type 😟 goddamn

[11:29 pm] you: actually

[11:30 pm] you: are you good to call rn?

[11:30 pm] hobi 🌱: wait wait i don’t need to be roasted THAT hard

You snort, pulling yourself off your bed to make yourself look at least somewhat presentable before you hit that FaceTime button.

[11:31 pm] you: you’re an idiot

[11:31 pm] you: and you promised me a dorm tour so 

[11:32 pm] you: if you say no now then you’d REALLY be a liar

[11:32 pm] hobi 🌱: fuck

[11:33 pm] hobi 🌱: Incoming FaceTime Call

When you pick up, you’re suddenly hit with a wave of something that feels like relief when you see Hoseok. It’s nice to see his face–you didn’t even realize just how badly you’d missed him, too wrapped up in your own bustling schedule, until he was right in front of you. At least, the two-dimensional version of him was in front of you, trapped on the other side of your phone screen.

“Hobi!”

“What’s up!?” His smile is so big and bright that you’re nearly certain it has healing properties. 

There’s so many things that you want to ask him that you don’t even know where to start. You want to know how classes have been, how his dorm is, the people he’s met, the food he’s had–the list could go on for miles, so you settle on the first thing that comes to mind: “What are you doing right now?”

“Check it out!” he replies excitedly, lifting up his phone to show you a 360° of his dorm room behind him.

With his hand now in the frame, he points out several amenities in his new bedroom. “Bed. Desk. Window. Bathroom. Closet. Jimin.”

At the mention of his name, the boy you’ve never seen before spins around in his office chair from where he sits at the desk that runs parallel to Hobi’s. “Hi!”

“Hi!” You wave back in return.

The room looks a lot smaller than yours does at home. Hobi’s never dormed before, so you’re sure that it’s definitely a change of environment for him. 

(Not like the rest of the trip wasn’t, but you digress.)

As if reading your mind, Jimin chirps in. “Sharing a room shouldn’t be too bad. We would’ve let Hoseok-hyung have the single bedroom, but Taehyung arrived three hours before both of us so he got dibs. But I promise you that he’ll be in good hands.”

Your eyes narrow playfully as you joke. “He better be, because you’ll be the first person I’m throwing under the bus if anything happens.”

Jimin throws his head back with a laugh. Hoseok turns the camera and your attention back to him, flipping the screen to continue touring you through his desk setup. True to his tidy nature, everything is clean and color-coordinated, and essentially every study aesthetic blog’s dream setup. 

There’s only one thing out-of-place that you see amongst his desk, which is–

“Hey, your alarm clock is still set to PST!”

The digital alarm clock matches the exact time that sits on the corner of your phone screen. Hoseok doesn’t even bat an eye before he offers his response. “Oh, I know.”

When you tilt your head in confusion, he elaborates with a laugh. “I wanted to be able to see what time it is over there too, so I know if it’s a good time to bother you or not.”

“That’s genius.” You honestly had forgotten all about the time difference. Sure enough, you can see the bright sky behind clouds illuminating the university campus out the window in his background, when you know that the only thing out your own window is darkness and the faint twinkle of distant stars. 

You lean over your phone to reset your own alarm clock time to match the one it should be in Tokyo, clicking a solid sixteen times before the hours coordinate with his time zone. You shake your head in mock annoyance when Hoseok makes a remark about you being a copycat.

“C’mon,” he says as he stands up from his desk, as if you were physically there with him and not trapped behind his phone screen to go wherever he chooses to take you. 

“Where are we going?”

He places his phone on the floor so that you can see him lacing up his boots–he’s wearing rubber boots because it’s snowing over there, which was just another thing that you had forgotten about the distance between you: he might see snow frequently in Tokyo because it’s still winter, unlike Los Angeles where even in January the heat was hardly tolerable. 

Shrugging his overcoat on, Hobi regards you with a grin. “You haven’t seen the rest of campus yet.”

[January 25th, 2023; 5:14 AM PST]

You absolutely detest doing laundry with other people. 

But with one arm holding a basket full of sopping wet clothes, you have no choice but to knock on the solid door in front of you.

Yoongi’s puffy and sleep-ridden face greets you, but despite the dough-like quality of his features, you know that the reason that he’s even awake at this ungodly hour is not because he’s an early riser–but because he hasn’t slept at all yet.

He gives you a half-assed nod of acknowledgement as if to ask what you need from him. 

“My dryer’s broken,” you state simply. You don’t elaborate and you don’t particularly need to, as Yoongi shrugs and moves to let you in. 

“Stay as long as you need to,” he says as he maneuvers to the kitchen, starting up the coffee maker like it’s second nature to him. You murmur your thanks before approaching his washer and dryer system. 

“Namjoon’s not home?”

“Nah, they got him working night shifts at the hospital again,” Yoongi shrugs. “Honestly, a part of me thinks that he prefers night shifts over daytime. Crazy bastard.”

You cast a gaze down the hall to where Yoongi’s studio-slash-bedroom is, and sure enough, the door is cracked open and the light is shining through, further solidifying your earlier assumptions that he was up and active before you had even arrived. 

With that, you snort. “Yeah, I can’t imagine who else would willingly want to spend their night working.”

He only huffs a guilty laugh with his back turned in response. 

Like in your own home, the closet containing the laundry unit faces the kitchen, causing Yoongi to resort to washing dishes to keep you company in your chores, which you appreciate. But once he’s done with that and you’re a few loads deep into your laundry, he traverses to the bathroom to get dressed for the day. 

It’s at this moment that your phone rings. 

It’s still early enough in the day for anyone to be calling to be pegged as unusual, but a glance to your screen shows you that it’s Hoseok. 

You mentally count on your fingers how many hours ahead of you he is, before determining that it is a reasonable hour, for him at least. 

As soon as you pick up the video call, he’s going off on whatever story he had to tell you, similar to how he does when he’s at home. You miss the exposition of his story as you adjust your phone volume. 

“—so after the class ended I stood up, right? And then Jungkook—that’s his name—got up really fast too and then his camera bag smacked me square in the face! It was a little embarrassing because it didn’t hurt but I was just so shocked that I wasn’t sure what to say so I went ‘ow!’ and of course that made Jungkook feel bad and—wait.” Hoseok pauses his storytelling when he takes in your appearance. 

For one thing, even though you’re still dressed in pajamas—one of his hoodies, actually—you already look awake and alert, which isn’t what he had been expecting at all. He was anticipating you to still be sleeping and for him to be the minor inconvenience that woke you up. He blinks.

“Good morning,” you chirp in a deadpan tone, continuing to fold the pair of pants in front of you. “Night? Afternoon?”

You start counting on your fingers again to figure out exactly what time it is in Tokyo, but Hoseok isn’t even paying any mind, still trying to figure out what the hell is going on. 

At first glance, whatever residence you’re currently at resembles your own to a tee. But Hoseok knows that there’s supposed to be a crack in the ceiling above the kitchen island where you’re sat, caused by the time you threw one of your shoes up there to (in)effectively kill a spider. And also the stools at the island are a different color and shape. And it almost appears as if the entire layout of the place is inverted. What’s even more jarring is that the whole place looks vaguely familiar. 

Hoseok blinks. Again. 

“Mind if I ask what you’re doing at Yoongi’s place at”—He makes a show of leaning back his chair until he can see his designated Pacific Standard Time clock—“six-twenty-seven in the morning?”

You don’t miss a beat, eyes focused on folding the edges of your shirt properly rather than the phone screen when you reply: “Why, are you jealous that I found a new laundry partner already?”

The lack of response has your gaze snapping back up accusingly. “Oh my God, you are!”

Hoseok sputters, a laugh of disbelief bubbling out. “Am not! I’m just saying, it caught me off guard to see you guys together so early. Had me thinking you guys were a thing or something.”

You and Yoongi, a thing? Has he met either of you?

Laughing again, you don’t miss the opportunity of fucking around with your best friend. “Damn, that obvious? Hey Yoongi,” you begin, taking notice of the man padding back into the hallway with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “Wanna come over and eat ramen? Do you want to come see my cat?”

The look on Yoongi’s face is one of downright horror, but what Hoseok can’t see through the screen won’t hurt him. “Okay, okay, you can stop now!” Hoseok says, waving you off to take the attention away from the redness in his face.

Hoseok is the dramatic one out of the pair of you, the one who laughs with his entire body to a point where he’s nearly falling to the floor—but right now you think his reaction is so funny that you’re about to fall out of your chair. 

“It was a serious question!” He whines. “But yeah, I called to tell you that I think I made a new friend today.”

“The guy who hit you with his camera bag?” you ask with pinched brows.

“Yeah, even though I said, like, two words to him after the incident. But I have class with him again tomorrow.”

“Damn. First impressions only happen once though.”

“Don’t remind me,” Hoseok groans. “Or else I’ll just be a hermit and skip going out with Jimin tonight. In fact, I just won’t leave my room again until June. Wait, seriously though, are you guys together now?”

You wrinkle your nose with another cryptic laugh at his lingering curiosity. “Go to dinner, dummy!”

And before he can get the last word, you beat Hoseok to the punch when the sound of you hanging up the FaceTime call rings in your ears. 

[February 14th, 2023; 7:58 AM PST]

You never schedule classes in the morning. 

But today, you find yourself leaving for campus much earlier than you normally would choose to. According to a girl you had spoken to briefly in one of your classes, some student society is giving out free boba in favor of Valentine’s Day, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity in exchange for another undeserved hour of sleep.

At least, that was the plan.

When you swing your front door open, a petite package sits on your welcome mat, your own name and address staring back at you on its shipping label.

You don’t recall ordering anything lately. With pinched brows, you bring the package to your kitchen counter to assess. 

Sliding the rectangular box out of the manila envelope, you turn it over in your hands. It doesn’t feel particularly heavy, and the box shape is reminiscent of the kind you would only find when you purchase jewelry. 

It couldn’t be a Valentine’s gift, could it? 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you do what you always do the second that you have a moment of doubt. 

“Hello?”

Hoseok picks up right away, like he always does.

“Hey Hobi, look at this. I got a package addressed to me that I don’t remember ordering.” You wave the box in front of the FaceTime screen to show. You were going to mention your suspicion that it was a potential Valentine’s gift from someone you didn’t know, but you opted not to out of embarrassment of sounding vain.

(If Hoseok comes to the same conclusion as you, however, then you’d feel a lot more confident in your own suspicions. You trust his judgment a hell of a lot more than your own, honestly.)

Hoseok leans closer to the screen to observe. “Holy shit, open it!”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” you ask, as if you aren’t already prying the lid off the box with curious fingers.

And inside the box sits a bracelet. It’s gorgeous, a thin silver chain with several deep green pearls lining the rim of it. It’s prettier than anything you’d ever buy for yourself. Your eyes widen and so do Hoseok’s, although for different reasons.

“Oh.”

“Oh!” Hoseok says, an embarrassed smile on his face like he was the world’s biggest idiot.

“That’s from me!”

It was?

“Look!” He lifts up his own right wrist, which adorns a bracelet that was identical to the one in the box in front of you. “I got this in the first week after I moved to Japan. It reminded me of you the second I saw it, so I knew I had to get one for you too.”

“Oh my God, you really didn’t have to,” you say worriedly. You can’t wrap your head around how pretty the piece was. “Thank you!”

“Of course,” he beams. “I forgot that shipping all the way to L.A. would take a few weeks before it got to you. I guess I just assumed you had gotten it a few days after I sent it.”

“And you just thought I wouldn’t say anything about it?”

Hoseok laughs. “I don’t know! Maybe you didn’t like it or something!”

“Hobi, this is beautiful, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shake your head. You can’t express your thanks enough. 

He smiles, satisfied at his pick and your reaction. He’s always had a good eye for jewelry, alongside his meticulous fashion taste. “When I was buying it, the lady said that green pearls are supposed to symbolize new beginnings. I thought it was fitting.”

“It really is, huh?”

“I’m glad you like it,” he says warmly. You feel like you could cry. “Hey, listen, I gotta head out now, but I’m really glad you called today. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” you nod your agreement quietly, still at a loss for better words.

He says your name, causing you to look at his illuminated face on the phone screen one more time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And then he’s gone.

Even minutes after Hoseok hangs up, you still find yourself rooted to your place in front of your kitchen island. Screw the free boba. It probably sucked in comparison to whatever this was.

He got you a bracelet simply because he was thinking about you.

In your opinion, a hey-I-was-thinking-about-you-today gift from none other than your best friend had a hell of a lot more sentimentality than a secret valentine from someone random.  

He got you a bracelet simply because he was thinking about you.

You turn the sentence over and over in your head, the same way you roll one of the pearl beads between your fingertips idly.

[February 17th, 2023; 12:11 PM PST]

Your phone is propped up against your book bag across from you, filling the space where Hoseok would usually be. 

“Happy Birthday!”

Nobody ever looks good on a goddamn FaceTime call, but Hoseok always does. Even now, when it’s a little bit past 4AM where he’s at, even when there’s a drunken pink tinge to his cheeks and an irritable expression to match.

(You had joked once that Yoongi and Hoseok switched personalities when inebriated, which both of them had vehemently denied.)

There’s a happy little smile that decorates his face when he thanks you, dimples on full display. 

You wanted to call him right when it hit midnight in Japan, but he hadn’t picked up. You tell him just as much. He tells you that his friends planned a little get-together that started with plans for birthday dinner at midnight, and ended a mere twenty minutes ago after copious amounts of drinking.

You play up how butthurt you sound. “I wanted to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Damn, you really had nothing better to do, huh?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean? It’s your birthday!”

“I don’t know, since I’m not there, you could always hang out with different people now, try new things!” You blink, and then your eyes narrow. What was he trying to say, exactly?

“You callin’ me a loser, Seok?”

He looks flabbergasted, like you had struck a nerve. “Of course not. I’d rather spend my birthday with just you and Jiwoo, honestly. Like last year.”

Last year, your lives had been majorly different. You had been approximately a year-and-a-half into your lease with Hoseok, and in that time you had already grown close enough to own the title of being his best friend.

When you first met Jung Jiwoo, you had admittedly been jealous of Hoseok. 

Not everyone had sisters like her–a constant stream of love and support, and not to mention damn good fashion taste to go with it.

But that envy that you had felt faded away easily, because Jiwoo was quick to adapt to treating you as if you were another one of her own siblings.

Like Hoseok, she just clicked with you. And even in Hobi’s absence, she still made time for you, still invited you to come to the mall with her and to take Mickey on walks. And when Hoseok was around, you had been around for all of her milestones that she allowed you to be a part of, including her wedding.

The memory makes you smile, actually. 

Jiwoo and Hoseok bickered very rarely, but they had gotten into a squabble that resulted in hours of not speaking to one another over what had happened first: Hoseok asking you to be his plus one, or Jiwoo asking you to be one of her bridesmaids. 

(“I asked her to be my date first!” 

“Well, she won’t just be a guest anymore! This is like an upgrade!” 

“But now her being my date won’t be the memorable thing!” 

“Memorable? Did you forget that this was my wedding we’re talking about? Being your plus one doesn’t mean shit because I would’ve invited her anyways!”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t even have known her if it weren’t for me!”)

Even though the memory of last year is something to be cherished, you know that how he’s spending it today will be something just as great to reminisce about. “Yeah, but when are you ever going to spend your birthday like this again?”

“You’re right,” he huffs out with a satisfied sigh.

He looks radiant as ever, like the weather in Tokyo was working wonders for his skin over the past few months. But then again, his skincare game was top notch at home in LA too. The sun shines brightly no matter where it is on the map, no?

“Check it out,” you say, chest the only thing visible on your screen as you reach over your phone’s perch to retrieve something from your bookbag.

“What’s that?” Hobi questions, eyes wide like he doesn’t already have a sneaking suspicion about the plastic container in front of you.

“You’re so mean,” he whines. You only giggle in response.

“First, Jungkook thinks the most appropriate birthday gift for me would be for us to go skydiving,” Hoseok lists miserably. “And now you’re taunting me by buying my favorite cake knowing damn well that I can’t have any.”

“What am I supposed to do? Mail it to you?” You pout. 

Ignoring you, he only continues to whine. “This is so fucking foul.”

“What do you mean?” You feign ignorance, procuring a spoon to eat your cake with. “I’m just celebrating your birthday with you.”

“I can’t believe you’re torturing me even though you’re thousands of miles away.”

Smiling around the spoon in your mouth, you repeat the same words he told you before he was miles and months out of reach from you. 

“Well, if you were plotting to get rid of me, it’s not gonna be that easy.”

[February 21st, 2023; 3:51 PM PST]

The first thing you see when you refresh your Instagram feed after class is a story post from none other than your best friend.

It’s a mirror selfie showing off his outfit and the iced coffee in his hand, and despite it being a simple outfit of a white t-shirt tucked into acid washed jeans, he looks good as ever. He wears a closed lip smile, dimples on display. 

Pushing out the doors of your lecture hall with one hand, you don’t hesitate for a moment before throwing out your reply.

[3:52 pm] you: You replied to their story: why are you so cute? :>

“Oh my God, Y/N?”

Freezing, you pray that the voice isn’t who you thought it was.

The grin you had mustered up stays plastered to your face when you turn to face the source of the voice. “Yujin!”

You thought you’d have a mouthful to say the next time you saw the girl. 

You thought you’d want to rub it in that you’ve got a great roommate now, and that you’ve even got a job lined up for you after graduation. You were so petty that you wanted to do all that just because she was such a horrible roommate to you four years ago.

But now she looks like someone else entirely.

Long hair that was once dyed in that “new city, new me” shade of brown was replaced with a sleek but trim cut in its natural color. She stands up straighter than you remember; does her makeup with more refinement than that eye-catching quality that she always had four years ago.

She looks like she’s grown so much in the years since you last crossed paths, and the way her gaze is pinned on you makes you think that she must be thinking the same about you.

“How have you been?”

“Busy,” you summarize with a soft laugh. “You?”

“Same,” she murmurs.

As you continue to talk, you come to find out that she had taken a gap year last year due to family reasons so she won’t be graduating alongside you, but now she was a RA at the same dorm building you had shared. Yujin tells you that she’s glad that you have a solid roommate now. 

Your lives had branched out in such different directions, but even you can admit that it relieves you that there was no bad blood between either of you.

When she says she has to leave for her next class, you let her go, but promise that you’ll have lunch again sometime. Usually when you make plans like that, you don’t mean it, but you genuinely want another chance to catch up with her.

Exhaling a breath as she takes her leave, you spare a glance down to your new notifications and smile dumbly at your best friend’s words.

[4:09 pm] jung hoseok: why are you so cute too? :>

You grin with a shake of your head.

You had spent so many years thinking that Yujin was awful and selfish and a million other words that had negative connotations attached to them, but in reality, she was just a normal but mildly inconsiderate roommate. The childish and petty behaviors that you recalled from nearly four years ago were nothing atypical of the fresh-faced and wide-eyed college freshman that both of you were. She’s probably telling her current roommate horror stories of similar caliber about you, and honestly? You probably deserved all of it just as much. 

But then again, your time with her wasn’t anything like the dynamic between Namjoon and Yoongi that you’ve come to know. The pair of them are like passing satellites, on the same wavelength, but only communicate when necessary. They know each other’s schedules, but differ so much in personality and behavior that they see the other asleep more often than they do awake. They label everything in their refrigerator with names and never cross the doorway boundaries into each other’s bedrooms. And it works for them.

But Hoseok–he was in a category of his own. 

He takes care of you, and you know that you do the same for him without question. You both know when to joke around, and when to be serious. Even now, though technically living together, you still cared so much about each other.

That had to mean something, didn’t it?

[March 2nd, 2023; 1:21 AM PST]

“Man, I fucking hate this place.”

“Same.”

Your eyes are burning. You can’t remember the last time you’ve stared at a computer screen for this long for something that wasn’t academic-related, let alone a game with graphics that haven’t been improved whatsoever in the past twenty years.

You release your fingers from the keyboard and lean back in your office chair, your in-game character going stagnant. 

Jin’s character does not, and you continue to watch as his caricature falls from the tree branch platforms for the nth time. He’s probably ten seconds away from tearing his hair out, but so are you. 

“They don’t call it the Forest of Endurance for nothing. This has gotta be like what I imagine sitting on your own balls feels like.”

“Yeah, pretty accurate.” One thing you appreciate about your short-lived friendship with Kim Seokjin was the lack of a small talk phase; unlike a majority of the people you’ve met in university and lost contact with after the menial small talk came to an end, you and Jin jumped straight into the comfort level where vulgar jokes didn’t have any resounding tension or odd looks. “Next time, let’s just play League or something.”

You wrinkle your nose, despite the boy not even being able to see your face right now. “I’ll die before you get me to touch League of Legends.”

“Hm. Valorant?”

“Maybe.”

But like all activities where you can feel your social battery crash coming soon, you know a good cut-off point when you see one. “You gonna stay on?”

You hear the clacking of Jin’s keyboard through your earbuds. “Oh shit, are you gonna go soon?”

“Yeah,” you sigh out, concealing your yawn from the mic to avoid him hearing it on the other end. “I’m getting sleepy.”

“Oh, yeah go ahead,” Jin replies, and you watch his character continue to swing his weapon as he bounces around the screen. 

“I’ll probably stay on ‘til I hit Level”–He pauses as he contemplates the level needed to enter the dungeon he was telling you about a few hours ago–“207.” 

You hover over his character, confirming that his character was on Level 201. Yeah, he’s definitely going to stay online for a good while longer. “Damn. Good luck.”

Seokjin offers a small, pained laugh. “Tell me about it. Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well.” You can practically feel his tiny, endearing smile through your headphones. 

“Yeah, goodnight Jin.”

Wheeling your office chair away from your desk as soon as you hang up, you flop backwards onto your bed in record time. 

Without even thinking, you find yourself with the phone app of your phone open and hovering over Hoseok’s contact information. 

He picks up on the first ring. 

“Hello?” There’s a pause on his end, like he’s taking notice of the odd hour for you. “Is something wrong?”

You breathe out a heavy, sleepy sigh. “Hey Hobi. Nothing’s wrong, I just felt like hearing from you.”

“Oh.”

“Man, I can’t wait for Spring Break already,” you sigh out, already daydreaming with eyes closed about the notion of sleeping in after midterms.

“Dude, same. I’m so burnt out.”

“Got plans?” You wonder if he remembers his promise. You really, really hope that he does.

“Leaving as soon as my last exam is over on Friday. I have some business to take care of with the company in Seoul, so I’ll be staying there for a few days.” A beat. A breath you didn’t even realize that you’d been holding. “And then I’m coming home.”

Home. To you. 

Because you don’t know how the hell you could ever doubt your place in his life when he’s always said otherwise. His school was in Japan, his work was in Korea, and his home life? Well, that was wherever you were. If you had joined the study abroad program alongside him, he’s sure that his home would be found in that quaint dorm with the pink-glowed lighting. 

“Good. You better come home–I’m sick of doing the dishes,” you smile with your lips sealed, masking your relief from eyes that can’t see you. “Anything new happening with you?”

“Yeah, actually!” He says, and you can feel rather than hear the way he bubbles with excitement. “You know how I got promoted to Project Manager a few months ago? Well, I just got approved to lead my own project from start to finish.”

That’s incredible. You’ve always admired the inner machinations of Hoseok’s mind, so to see him finally get the opportunity to express that fully makes you almost as excited as you’re sure he is. From the concept, to the name, to the packaging, Hoseok is so meticulous with every aspect of his life, and you have no doubts in your mind that this will reflect that perfectionism and hard work. 

“Any ideas yet?” You question.

He pauses, like he’s contemplating telling you or not. You can feel the dimpled decisiveness on the answer he lands on. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You sigh out both your content and discontent in the same breath before Hoseok continues. “What have you been up to?”

“Me? Not much. Just finished playing MapleStory with Jin and now I’m exhausted. Just glad I don’t have work tomorrow, to be honest.”

“Oh, that’s why you’re still up, huh?” Attentive as ever. “You should sleep then, since your social battery is probably drained as hell.”

“You’re my battery,” you let out a yawn. Hoseok laughs at your nonchalance, imitating the iPhone charging noise just for kicks.

“I’m serious,” you say. “Talking to other people exhausts me, but I never feel that way about you.”

You’re so fucking tired. 

Your phone is thrown onto the pillow next to you, and with the way you roll onto your side, the muffled rasp of his voice through the pillow almost makes it feel as though you’re laying on his chest.

Your eyes drift shut, and you almost bask in wondering if he would run his fingers through your hair if he were actually here.

Wait, what?

This was Hobi you were talking about, for crying out loud! You must be more sleep deprived than you initially thought, or maybe your hormones were fucking with you or something, because there’s no rational explanation as for why you were indulging in the sheer thought of receiving such affection from your roommate. 

Pumping the breaks on your own mind, you shoot straight up in your bed, stiff as a board. Your heart is racing for reasons you don’t want to think more about, and it’s at this moment that you tune back into what Hoseok is saying. 

“Are you even listening?”

“...Yes.” You weren’t.

“Liar!” he accuses, knowing all too well the telltale signs that your attention span had dropped off. If only he knew that the reason wasn’t drowsiness, but something way out of left field that you hadn’t even seen coming.

If you’re not mistaken, it sounds like Hoseok is also settling into bed.

“Wait, what time is it over there?”

A pause. Shifting around, like Hoseok is checking the time himself. “Almost six. I have a group project to work on with Jungkook and some others around eight, so I have time to get a nap in.”

Hoseok never takes naps.

At least, not routinely, and judging from what he’s debriefed you on about the details of his day so far, there’s nothing in particular that would invoke him to do so.

Naturally, you question it. “A nap?”

“I’d be sleeping too if I were over there, no?”

Well, yeah. But he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so what reason would justify syncing your sleeping schedules?

“I guess so,” you say. You wish your heart rate would slow the fuck down so you could just fall asleep already. “Doesn’t mean that this makes sense still.”

“Shh,” he giggles, and the sound beams brighter than the sun even through the receiver. “Just go to sleep.”

“Maybe I could if you weren’t so loud!” you shoot right back, pinning the blame on him rather than your own racing heart.

“Is this better, then?” he whispers. If his normal voice was enough to sufficiently scramble your thoughts, then it's a wonder that you weren’t flatlining right now at the hands of his low rasp.

Fuck.

The laughter peters out immediately, and there’s such a long pause of silence as your breath catches in your throat that it almost appears like you had fallen asleep.

More shuffling on the other end of your phone line, and you have half a mind to wonder if he was going to hang up now that you were no longer at attention. But he doesn’t. You hear him settling down comfortably once more, and with a clearing of his throat, he whispers two more words so softly you feel like you could melt: “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You can’t find your voice to respond, and you can only pray you don’t talk in your sleep. Even versus your overactive heart and mind, slumber finally wins. 

He stays on the line until he too has fallen asleep and had to awake once more, but he lingers in your mind for much, much longer.

[March 27th, 2023; 9:46 AM PST]

You don’t feel like getting out of bed. You should really be using the empty schedule of your Spring Break for good rather than evil, but the storm raging outside makes wanting to be a productive member of society exceedingly difficult.

It also makes for soothing background noise to your slumber.

You really don’t have anything of importance today, save for picking up Hoseok from LAX later in the evening. You’d be on your own tonight, with Jiwoo away and visiting her husband’s family in Seoul and Yoongi claiming he was busy with work tonight. 

You don’t mind, honestly. You just want to see Hoseok already.

Because he was your best friend, and because he’s been gone for three months, of course. Absolutely no other reasoning or feelings imposed any influence on your desire to see him.

But two words that light up your phone screen are enough to dampen your mood, like the rain that dampens the clouds like a wet rag outside.

[9:49am] hobi 🌱: flight’s delayed 🥲

It’s funny, how you were across the world from one another, yet the weather was just as abysmal where the both of you were. Except you were in bed–rumpled sheets that smelled like no one but yourself weighing you down into your own bubble of safety from the rain–and Hoseok was stuck at the airport for God knows how long now, wet shoes and the impatient travelers attached to them surrounding him. 

It’s not funny at all. 

Because you’re so similar in nature that it feels like there’s no physical distance between the two of you sometimes, and even after three months apart you find yourself waiting to exchange mundanities with Hoseok each night only to be greeted with an empty bedroom.

The bedroom that will apparently remain empty for even more hours than previously anticipated.

The only thing that can reel you back in from your negative thoughts was the notion that his bed will only be unoccupied until tomorrow, whereas the past months felt as though there was a hole in your heart and in your apartment that you simply needed to get used to.

But to be honest, you’re nervous as fuck. And you’ve never felt this way about Hobi of all people, not even when you had first met him from that stupid roommate ad he made and plastered around town.

You’ve told yourself again and again that this week together would either confirm or deny those recent blips where you felt as though you and Hoseok had the potential of becoming more. Like when he bought matching bracelets because he knew you’d like it. Like when he fell asleep with you on the phone. Like all of the sweet promises he’s made to you in between the lines of texts and through imaginary phone cords.

Fuck. The more and more you replay those memories, the deeper you fall into your own turmoil. 

What if you’re imagining it? What if Hoseok has always talked and acted like that, and the distance has really gone to your head, making you think that you were more significant to him than you really were?

You don’t want to be heartbroken if you get your hopes up. 

If heartbroken were even the appropriate term to be using. You weren’t sure how to interpret Hoseok’s intentions, but hell, you weren’t even sure how you felt and how you wanted this to go.

With mussed hair and an even messier mind, you drag your hands across your face, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

You shouldn’t think about this any harder than you need to. Overthinking has never done you any favors.

You draw out a response to Hoseok’s text message, typing and retyping as you figure out what it is that you want to say, before you finally resign and call him instead.

“Hey!” There’s a big grin on his face when he answers. He’s wearing a pair of yellow-tinted sunglasses that he looks ridiculously good in. He looks exhausted–and judging by his Spring Break plans that he had outlined to you a few weeks back, he had every reason to be.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired and wish I was on the plane already. Sorry.”

You blink. “What is there to be sorry for? It really isn’t your fault.”

Hoseok breathes through his nose, a laugh that you can tell through the phone line does not reach his eyes or even the corners of his lips. “I dunno. I just wish I could be on my way to see you already.”

You pretend that that simple sentence doesn’t have your heart leaping out of your throat. Your next admittance doesn’t help at all to mask that: “I wish you were here already too.”

There’s a few moments of staticy silence that you know can’t be attributed to shitty airport cell service. You wonder if your words carry as much weight to him as his do to you.

“We’ll see each other soon, okay?”

There he goes again, making promises to you at the drop of a hat. And he has still yet to break a single one. 

“Okay.”

The thunderstorm doesn’t let up, but neither does the one in your heart.

[March 28th, 2023; 1:31 AM PST]

You’re awoken by a jarring noise that definitely was not thunder, but a rapt knock against your door. 

Grabbing your pepper spray off your nightstand, you make your way over to the door. You feel both startled and relieved to find that the man on the other side of your door was none other than Jung Hoseok.

“I don’t have my keys,” he explains simply.

You shrug. You don’t know why you had expected him to, considering all the ways his routine has changed in the past months, likely including the tidbits of his life that he keeps on hand. Or rather, in his back pocket.

Once let in, he drops his suitcases to the side in favor of enveloping you in a vice-like hug, the kind that makes up for three months without any physical contact. 

Through your sleepy haze, you follow him through the apartment like a lost puppy as he rolls his suitcase around to settle in. And when you make your way back into your own bedroom, he follows. 

You flop down on your side of the bed, still warm from where you had been curled up and sleeping just half an hour ago. Hoseok sits on the opposite end, legs dangling over the side. He fishes his cell phone and wallet out of his pocket before setting them down gently on your nightstand, and that’s when you notice something else odd that he’s placed down with them that has your brows creasing.

“You smell like apples, by the way.” There’s a heart-shaped smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, revealing the same pretty teeth you’ve gotten acquainted with over the past three years. “Don’t tell me you finally caved and bought that custom shampoo you were eyeing?”

“You’d be surprised at how much I can get done without you here and constantly distracting me,” you joke with a wrinkle of your nose. There’s irony itching at the back of your throat, considering Hoseok is quite possibly all you’ve been able to think about in his absence. You wish it didn’t feel like you were lying to him. 

Your friendship wasn’t built on lies. You can’t be a good roommate based on that either.

“Your keys are on my nightstand.”

At your statement, Hoseok looks caught, but not guilty. “Oh. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the real reason I didn’t use them.”

“Bet.”

You’re not expecting much. Maybe he just didn’t want to catch you off guard if you had been sleeping? You certainly would have taken that into consideration if you were him and he were you, given Hoseok’s jumpy nature. Or maybe he just–

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of waiting another night to see your face.”

What the hell are you supposed to make of that?

You try to stop your heart from leaping into your throat, now wide awake. Keyword: try. Because friends don’t say that to each other. You’d never say that to Jiwoo, or Yoongi, or Namjoon, hell, even Seokjin. 

But friends also don’t say the next words that come out of your mouth. 

“Then it’s a good thing you’re sleeping in here, ‘cause you can look at me all you want.”

The sarcastic lilt to your voice makes it easy for you to pass off your own words as an empty invitation. Your eyes are already falling shut, body comfortable in your sheets and your heart content with the knowledge that Hoseok made it home okay. You hear Hoseok let out a laugh, the infectious kind that forces your eyes open to question him what the hell he thought was so funny.

“I’m sleeping in here?”

It’s at this moment that you take in the weight of your previous words. But blame it on the sleep deprivation–or the years of friendship, or the funny feeling in your chest that you’ve only just begun to acknowledge–for your refusal to withdraw the offer. “I mean, it’s not like there’s sheets on your bed.”

There’s a slight crease in Hoseok’s brow that disappears before you can even think about why it was there. “Guess so,” he tosses out casually, getting up quietly to pull back your duvet on the side where he once sat. He’s not even in pajamas, just whatever comfortable clothes he had worn on the plane, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to your roommate–not even the time you two got stuck in the elevator at IKEA three days into your lease could compare to the tension that you suddenly feel. But as always when it comes to this boy in particular, he finds a way to shatter it.

“Your feet are so fucking cold!” you yelp, flailing to put as much distance between you and him as possible without falling off your own end. 

The laughter that fills the air eventually simmers down to a near silent chit-chat of all the things missed over the last three months, stories bridging the gaps of time between your semi-weekly phone calls. 

It’s nice, the way that your lowered volume makes the lack of physical distance between you and your best friends palpable. You almost still can’t believe that he’s right in front of you and not trapped behind the glassy exterior of your phone screen. 

And just like that, the contentedness in the pit of your stomach makes way for sleep to pull you under. 

[March 28th, 2023; 1:31 PM PST]

Falling back into your old routine is easier than you expected it to be.

You and him sit sprawled on the couch, just like old times, as if he was never gone at all. One of his legs is tucked over yours, effectively trapping you to the fabric-lined couch prison, a water bottle tucked snugly against his lap. You don’t let your eyes linger.

You two always sit like this, partially out of the comfortable usage of your entire couch space, but also because it became something of an inside joke for you to remain trapped until you two definitively pick something to watch. Yes, even with Hoseok’s physically energetic nature, he notices that you become extra hyperactive when you find yourself indecisive over something. 

Your thumb roves over the remote, scrolling past movie selections that you don’t even bother to read the descriptions of. 

Biting your lower lip, you contemplate your options. You and Hoseok had opted to stay in today, courtesy of the rain showers just outside your building, and also to give him another day to recover from the jet lag. Maybe you should watch something you’ve already seen before, just in case he nods off to sleep?

(As annoying as it is to rewatch an episode when the other falls asleep, you both do it every single time the incident occurs, just because getting to see each other’s reactions to the plot happenings is half the fun of binge watching together. 

At least, that was your reasoning. You’re not sure if the same applies to Hobi.)

You stop your scrolling while some new Netflix suspense film is on the screen, the trailer automatically playing. Not because the title caught your eye, but because the boy right beside you did. 

His hair roots are recolored in a way that is nearly identical to how you had done it, and while you initially whined your disappointment that he hadn’t waited for you tou do a touch-up, you have to admit that you’re glad he stuck with the same style you had decided on together.  

(“Like a Smucker’s Goober Jar,” you had said, reminiscing on the look of those peanut butter jars that you haven’t seen since childhood. “Which is perfect, since you’re such a goober.”

“Such an asshole,” he complained with the world’s biggest heart-shaped grin on his face, and with that he knocked the three boxes of the dye and bleach you had held up into the shopping cart.)

You had chosen his hair color together, dyed it together, but days after it was said and done he was on the other side of the globe. You hadn’t gotten to fully appreciate the look until now.

It suits him really well, but you said that already. Numerous times, but it will never really be enough. The fluffed quality of it provides the most beautiful juxtaposition to his sharp jawline and the distinguished slope of his nose.

Fuck, his side profile really is a work of art. 

You catch yourself staring before he’s able to, and with a swift lick over your dried lips you resume flicking through potential shows to watch. 

You can’t watch anything horror because that wasn’t exactly conducive to winding down from jet lag, especially if the person in question was Jung Hoseok. But you also aren’t in the mood to watch any romance movie, because no matter how grown and mature you become, you still get awkward seeing sex scenes in films. 

Damn, your entire mouth is dry.

Indecisive and growing restless, your thumb drops from the remote scroller again. Maybe you should get up to get drinks and snacks and then come back to choose something with a fresh pair of eyes? Yeah, that could be good.

Except there’s one very burdensome barrier in the way: Hoseok’s leg. 

He doesn’t even notice the way you squirm, once again caught up in whatever nondescript trailer has begun playing when you relinquished control of the remote.

You don’t even try to fight your way past him, already accepting your fate that you’re stuck here until further notice.

There’s still the water bottle sitting on his lap.

Your stupid fucking brain connects the dots of what you’ve done a second too late, too caught up in the very obvious problem (dry mouth) and the even more obvious solution (drinking water) that lay less than an arm’s length away.

It’s when Hoseok curiously turns his head towards you that you realize that the water bottle now pressed against your lips was definitely not your own. In fact, you didn’t even have your own presently, nor could you even remember the last time you drank water.

But he doesn’t react in any way to your actions, even with the wide-eyed pause that you give when you become cognizant of your actions. He just shrugs like this was regular Tuesday behavior, and you take an excessively large gulp of water, as if to challenge him.

He laughs, shaking his shoulders, before proceeding with what he wanted to say. “Just pick whatever you wanna watch. It’s already been like twenty minutes.”

“How about The Haunting of Hill House?” you ask, scrolling over to your to-be-continued list. You lower your other arm, the water bottle now settled in your own lap.

“Isn’t that scary?” Predictable. You shrug.

“I watched a couple episodes with Yoongi and Namjoon. It’s scary, sure, but it’s more like… introspective horror? If that makes sense.”

He snorts. “Of course Joon wants to watch something that can be called introspective horror. And you too.”

“It’s good, seriously!” you pout. “Yoongi’s just as much of a chicken as you are, and even he could manage to watch!”

“Put it on,” he nods, caving easily. For some reason you don’t think that using his other friends as ethos was the reason he agrees. “But if I get scared again, I’m sleeping in your room anyways.”

There it is. “Yeah? Says who?”

He smiles his dumb, heart-shaped grin. “I don’t have sheets on my bed, remember?”

When you smack his chest in annoyance, he only offers another laugh, mirroring your prior actions when he reaches his hand across you to pluck the water bottle back from where you held it in your lap and bring it to his mouth. 

Letting it go with a stunned loosening of your grip, you realize that him reciprocating what you had done made you even more flustered than before.

You taking his water bottle from him was one thing, but him taking it back just meant that he didn’t mind sharing back-and-forth.

You don’t know what to do with your empty hands now–now that you know yourself far more than you’ve ever let yourself before. It feels like you’re new to this. New to this feeling in your chest, new to being human. 

Clearing your throat, you proceed to hunt down your series of choice in your Netflix list. You can feel Hoseok looking at you from the corner of your eye, and you avoid it for as long as you can before you offer him a soft turn of your head.

There’s this look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, and it’s so warm. Not in the same way that his smiles felt like sunlight filtering through an open window, or how the softness of his voice felt like a gentle summer breeze. No, this warmth felt like it was for you and could only be felt by you, the kind of warmth that seeps into your bones and stays there, the kind that couldn’t be described by any analogy in any language. 

Has he always looked at you this way? How the hell could you have never noticed?

No–it didn’t matter how long this gaze of his had existed, if it even did before this very moment. What mattered was that it was there now, and where you go from here. 

Hoseok only tilts his head at your gawking. He looks like there’s something else on his mind, something more that he wants to say to you, but he swallows it down alongside another sip of water he takes from the same bottle you had drank from.

Perhaps you were both guilty of the same thing.

[April 1st, 2023; 5:27 PM PST]

Hoseok pokes his head into your room the same way he always does.

He may be a good roommate who kept his boundaries, but one thing for certain was that you almost never spend a moment alone in his presence. Maybe Yoongi was right, you were attached by the hip.

But his presence was never bothersome and this time was no different, with him entering your room to sit cross-legged on your bed, a cardboard box no bigger than a loaf of bread sat on his lap.

When he asks if you’re busy, you explain that you were just restarting your computer because Seokjin finally begged hard enough to convince you to install Valorant. Hoseok tells you that he wants to meet Seokjin sometime.

“I think you and Jungkook would get along really well,” Hoseok thinks aloud.

“How come?”

“He’s afraid of microwaves.”

“Seriously?” You swivel your desk chair around to face him. You’re asking both for confirmation of Jungkook’s oddities, and how the hell that would make him similar to you.

“Dead serious.” You don’t know which of your questions Hobi’s response refers to.

“You’d like all of them, honestly,” he hums, and from what you’ve heard through the grapevine about each person, you don’t disagree. “Y’know when you were a kid and you wished that you and your friends could all live in the same neighborhood with all your houses side-by-side? That’s how I feel about all of you.”

When you laugh, Hobi throws up his hands as a soft defense. “Hey—it’s not childish! I just wished that everyone’s schedules would align and you all could finally meet.”

After hearing your PC whirr back to life, you abandon your seat at your desk to make your way over to the bed with Hobi. “I’m sure that’d be nice.”

He nods in agreement, but you don’t miss the way his nails almost nervously tap at the cardboard surface he holds.

“What’s in the box?”

His response is instantaneous, like he was anxiously waiting for the opportunity to present itself.

“Remember I told you I’ve been working on that project at work?” You nod. “Well, they just sent me a box of the lip balm samples to make sure the formula was how I wanted it to be before we start thinking about packaging.”

“Nice!” you say, interest suddenly piqued at the new information. It’s a bummer that the product in question was lip balm though; you were incredibly sensitive to particular formulas that left your lips dry and cracked and were counterproductive to the product’s purpose. But if Hobi was the one whose idea it was, you’d buy their entire stock, honestly.

Peeling back the wings of the box, Hoseok regards you.

“Here,” he says, scooting closer. “I know you said flavored lip balms were the ones that caused the most problems, so I made sure all of them are unflavored and unscented.”

What?

“What?”

Hoseok has bright lights in his eyes, clearly excited to be indulging you in his thought process. “You told me once that it’s hard to find lip balm products that don’t give you allergic reactions, so I wanted to make sure that whatever I made was something that would be good for you.”

He remembered that? You don’t even remember when you had even brought up that issue to him, unless it had just been something quick in passing. “Really?”

You hate how short your answers are, but you really are at a loss for words.

“Yeah, of course!” He takes the several small pots out of the box before unscrewing one and dipping his fingers into it. “Now come here so we can test it out–hey, don’t look at me like that! My hands are clean!”

Fascinated, you lean towards him, allowing him to swipe his fingertip across your lips. “Let me know if this one feels dry or itchy at all,” he murmurs, expression so focused on your mouth that it makes you flush with heat.

How the hell did this one already feel much smoother than any other lip balm you’ve used before? You rove your tongue over your lips, then blot them together to evenly spread the balm.

“I really like this one,” you say simply.

“Oh, already? There’s still, like, six more for you to test out!” he exclaims, making you laugh. “Also do you like lip balms in pots like this, or do you prefer the sticks?”

You have no preference, honestly. “Doesn’t really matter. I wanna see what packaging you come up with.”

Hoseok makes a disgruntled facial expression. “This is about you! Just pick one, doesn’t matter what I have planned.”

You click your tongue. “Fine. I like the chapsticks better because it’s easier to keep in my backpack and purse.”

He pulls out his phone before quickly typing what you’d said into his Notes app.

You wonder just how much time he spent thinking of you amongst the vast blueness of your lack of contact, and how that amalgamated itself into him making you something like this.

Ever interested in his work, you question, “What’re you gonna call this line?”

Hoseok gives you a small, dimpled smile, eyes soft. “Blue Side.”

You could cry.

“Hoseok.”

“Hm?” he questions, still barely a few inches from your face. 

You had almost forgotten about your own gift for him. Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, not that it even compared to half of what he’d done for you. “I bought you those cookies and cream waffles that you really like. They’re next to the fruit bowl in the kitchen.”

His eyes light up instantly, and he’s pulling himself to stand even faster. He’s already making his way to the kitchen with the speed of a true cookies and cream enjoyer. 

“Oh my God, can we get married?” he nearly moans, and you envy how easily the words come out without making him need to fight down ninety layers of emotional constipation to do so. 

It’s because of that hindrance that you can’t bring yourself to say that you were just thinking the same thing. In a joking, lighthearted manner, of course.

You beg him to show you more pictures from his trip, and he happily obliges you between bites of his beloved waffle. 

“If I ever need to go to Japan again for work or something, I’m definitely taking you with me.”

Your heart skips several beats. “Would you really?”

“Of course,” he says with a grin. “Yoongi too. There’s so many things that I want to show you guys, and these pics are definitely not enough. Unrealistic, but if I could, I’d travel the world with you guys, honestly.”

You look at him across the kitchen counter, and you can’t express how right it feels now that he was back home, that he was back by your side.

Fuck.

You never want this week to end.

[August 10th, 2020; 3:42 PM PST]

You’ve never been much of a firm believer in fate. 

There’s something unsettling about the notion of putting all your trust into something like red strings and falling stars to sort out your life for you. Because if that were the case, you’d have gotten into your first-choice university, you wouldn’t have landed yourself the world’s shittiest roommate as a college freshman, and you wouldn’t have promptly given up on the entire collegiate dormitory system as a whole.

You wouldn’t be without a stable living situation a mere two weeks before the beginning of your sophomore fall semester like you were right now.

But today–today, there’s something strange about the atmosphere, and it’s not just a result of the sweltering Los Angeles heat. The summer sun doesn’t make a habit out of drawing people into one of the pricier boba tea stores on this side of downtown, especially people who are already worn down from yet another unsuccessful morning of apartment hunting.

You’re sitting at the lacquered table in the corner of the shoebox of a place, right beneath the air conditioning vent. There’s a corkboard on the wall opposite you, clusters of it tacked with polaroid photos, some of whom you recognize to be the bubble tea shop’s current staff.

There’s one of those neon pink papers tacked up as well–the kind that’s practically made of cardstock and costs a shit ton of money at any local craft store–that effectively kills the entire board’s aesthetic. If the creator’s plan was to make it stick out like a sore thumb, they’ve certainly done a good job at it. Even the font is distinct enough to be read from where you’re currently seated.

LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE (OR FIVE)!

Hi! My name is Jung Hoseok (19M), and I was joking about the five roommates thing, but I’m sure there’s a way that we could make that work if necessary. I’m currently a college sophomore, and an avid finance major. My favorite cereal is Lucky Charms, I’m really good at folding laundry, and I have shared custody of my Shih Tzu named Mickey with my older sister.

Apartment Location: 903 Hydrangea St., Building J, Unit 26 

Amenities include:

in-unit laundry

quick access to the LA Metro Rail

complex is pet-friendly, has a gym, pool, and secure package-delivery

two bedroom (one for me, one for you!), one bath

Splitting rent and utility costs 50/50 would be ideal, but I don’t mind stretching to pay 60/40, or even 70/30. Anything you can do would help! 

CONTACT ME HERE ↓

It’s awful. 

The graphic design makes it look like he had looked up “how to make a killer roommate advertisement” on Google, then proceeded to follow all of the WikiHow page’s instructions without even bothering to realize that the page hadn’t been updated since 2009. 

There’s a mismatch of photos of the apartment in question, all either a) printed in an ink too dark to make out its features or b) taken in such abhorrent lighting to a point where no details of the photos were even salvageable to begin with.

There’s those flimsy little paper tabs at the bottom, pieces of his contact information condensed between dotted lines and fine print out for the taking. All five tabs are untouched.

It’s awfully convenient. 

You try to rationalize your way around it.

What nineteen-year-old is so trusting of the world, to the point where he’s willing to put his full name, age, address, and phone number out into the public like that? Sure, it was a smart move on his part to advertise at a mostly college-aged occupied place like this, but you could never be too cautious about sharing your information publicly. Hell, your Instagram profile is still private out of that same sense of paranoia. 

He’s bold and that makes you a little concerned, even if you have never once met the guy.

Besides, who even uses paper flyers to advertise things like this in this day and age? Most other students would resort to your university’s plethora of Facebook groups or even Reddit to maximize the outreach of their situation.

Well. To be fair, all of those aforementioned sources that you had contacted winded up being fruitless endeavors anyways.

It’s like the more you try to rationalize against it, the more tempting the offer becomes.

What are you even saying? You shake your head, as if to physically clear the thoughts away. It works momentarily, even if the suggestion lingers in the back of your mind as you finish your milk tea. 

You stand, checking the area around your table to ensure that nothing of yours had dropped out of your flimsy tote bag. Your laptop has long since died, which is probably a good enough indicator that it’s time to return back to your hotel room. 

The hotel that will only be yours to stay in for the next week. Fuck, the things you’d do to have a permanent address right now. 

Your body fills itself with dread as you even think about dragging yourself back through the public transportation system in this heat. Your eyes flit back up to the corkboard, the tacky pink poster serving as a last-ditch effort at stalling before you can leave this air-conditioned paradise.  

Fuck it. 

Tearing off the first and only missing swatch of contact information from Jung Hoseok’s roommate ad before leaving the café, you allow the sun to warm your skin and the work of fate to warm you from the inside out. 

[August 10th, 2020; 8:19PM PST]

The paper is beyond crumpled after making itself at home in the back pocket of your jean shorts all day, but the digits are still legible enough as you dial them into your phone and hit call.

[April 9th, 6:52 PM PST]

After Hoseok leaves, your apartment feels somehow emptier than before.

Nothing about your dynamic has progressed, but then again, you hadn’t made any moves for it to. No matter the way you had felt in the days approaching his arrival, nor the moments you had shared in the short time he was with you, your feelings hadn’t been made explicitly clear. So it wouldn’t be fair for you to go expecting things to change. 

There was one dumb thing that you had agreed to do together once he left: to have a dinner date eating the same thing together for once, rather than him eating breakfast while you ate dinner, or vice versa.

(“Ooh, sushi would be a good idea,” Hobi had said, getting ahead of himself already. “There’s this really good sushi bar near campus, but it’s kind of pricy so if I go there, you better not half-ass your end and get fucking gas station sushi or something.”)

True to your promise, as the clock approaches seven, you find yourself trekking back to your apartment after picking up your takeout from the local sushi restaurant that you and Hoseok liked most here. 

You make sure that you look decent on your FaceTime camera. This wasn’t a formal date, but still, your newfound nervousness around the boy had you feeling just about as anxious as someone who was currently being hunted for sport. 

Not that it mattered though. You don’t know a single person who looks flawless when stuffing their face with sushi, so your behavior is kind of gratuitous.

Hoseok told you that he’d call you first, so when the clock hits seven, you wait.

The clock ticks. Five minutes pass. Ten. At the twenty minute mark, you cave and call instead. The phone rings once. Twice. By the fifth ring, you end the call. 

You wonder if last week during Spring Break was a mistake. You let your heart do all the talking while your mouth said so little, and it was the closest you’d ever been to him. Close enough to crash and burn. 

As the hour bleeds onward, your sushi becomes room temperature. You pop the styrofoam container back sealed with shaky hands and shove it into the back of your refrigerator, out of sight. 

You’re not hungry anymore. 

[August 12th, 2020; 6:52PM PST]

It’s only a mere two days later when you schedule to meet up with Jung Hoseok for the very first time.

Over the phone, he seemed polite enough. His voice rings loud and clear when he introduces himself; not enough to startle you with the volume, but distinct and animated enough to relax your guard from his genuinity. 

His rambunctious advertisement makes sense now. If you recall the phrasing and general loudness of it, you can practically hear all of the printed words being said in the exact cadence of his voice. 

Muffled sounds of a dog barking and of a woman’s voice in the background during these phone calls also helped corroborate at least some of the legitimacy of who he advertised himself to be. He tells you that his and his sister’s lease was coming to an end, and the renewal process presented itself with the opportunity for her to finally move in with her long-term boyfriend instead. 

(“And leaving me to fend for myself! I’m fighting for my life out here!” he adds, overexaggerating enough for a distant “shut up!” to be heard over the receiver, most likely from the aforementioned sister.)

He also tells you that there was a slight change in plans from what he had advertised: his sister would be taking their dog, instead of splitting its time between apartments. According to Hoseok, he’s generally well-behaved and potty-trained, save for the time that he pissed in his sneakers to get his attention, but even as much as Hoseok would miss him, he’d rather not stress him out by the constant change of location. 

He reminds you again and again that him saying all of this and even scheduling a meet-up with him did not mean you had to feel obligated to agree. 

If the cocktail of oversharing and professionalism was his attempt to make you feel more at ease about the entire situation, it was a damn good one. Because you find yourself agreeing quickly, allowing him to choose the restaurant for you to meet at in two days time.

The restaurant that you find yourself standing outside right now, nerves being the only barrier from entering. 

A sushi restaurant, to be exact. So the silver lining of the evening is that even though you could potentially not move forward with the lease, you’d at least enjoy yourself at dinner.

(You do text your mother and one of your friends from university the place’s address, just in case you wind up getting kidnapped or something. Laugh all you want, but you can never be too cautious.)

You heave out a sigh of relief when you spot Hoseok, whose presence is exactly how you’d expected him to be: radiant, bubbly, yet with an aura of seriousness to him.

He introduces himself, and the first thing that you notice is how good his fashion sense is. You’re relieved that the outfit you chose for tonight is at least somewhat presentable in comparison. 

It’s a little awkward at first, but that was expected. He asks you questions about yourself, and you offer him similar questions in return. If this is how cordial he’d be as a roommate, you wouldn’t mind it though, honestly. It wasn’t like you had any other options.

The conversation picks up from its staleness when you find yourself both ordering Philly rolls, which in your opinion, were easily the best sushi roll you could order. Not to mention that they were consistent, so even across different restaurants, they didn’t vary by outrageous amounts in taste, and they generally weren’t that messy. Hoseok agrees with each one of your points, expressing relief at your words because his sister vehemently disagreed–

“Hi!”

Snapping your gaze upward, you’re greeted with who has to be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen in your life. Not just in the way her hair was curled to perfection, or her manicured nails, but the way her eyes lit up with interest as she regarded you, the way her dimpled smile matched Hoseok’s.

“I’m Jiwoo, Hobi’s sister,” she states, punctuating this by extending her hand towards you.

“Nice to meet you!” you chirp in response. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Hoseok mentioned you a few days ago! I really hope you do decide to move forward with the lease, it would make me feel a lot better about moving out and leaving him,” she says with relief creasing between her brows.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hoseok frowns. “I’m not a baby.”

Jiwoo laughs, voice melodic. “I know, but still. I’m always worried about you.”

After more idle chatter, Jiwoo tells the pair of you that she’s meeting her fiancé at another table in the restaurant, and with that, she takes her leave.

Hoseok exhales a breath. “Hope you didn’t mind my sister springing a surprise visit on us like that. I was planning on introducing you two if we moved our arrangement forward, but she was just so excited that someone actually reached out that she couldn’t help herself.”

The puzzle pieces itself together one-by-one. “Jung Jiwoo… as in Mejiwoo the clothing brand? And Base Line Cosmetics?”

“Yeah, that’s us.” There’s no hesitance in his answer like there would be if he were privy to sparing you the details of his family’s wealth, but there was also no marked cockiness, as if he were flaunting it. 

At your visible sense of interest, he elaborates. “Base Line is owned by our family, but Jiwoo was always more interested in working in the fashion industry over cosmetics, so she went and started her own business off it. Technically, her company is still a subsidiary of ours, but props to her because she did pretty much all of the start-up work on her own.”

“How about you?”

He offers a shrug. “I’ve helped my sister design a couple pieces just for fun, but honestly? I’m having fun just working in marketing for Base Line.”

If you’re being completely honest, you don’t know the exact schematics of what working in a business like that would entail, but you can piece together enough. You’ve seen his Instagram feed, hell, you’ve seen his outfit as he sits at the table across from you–he seems like the kind of person who was keen on aesthetics, and marketing seemed like exactly where he belonged.

“Which reminds me–you’ve gotta meet my neighbor Yoongi,” he says, eyes lit with excitement. He covers his mouth as he swallows down his spicy tuna roll before continuing. “He’s got the prettiest lips I’ve ever seen in my life and we’re trying to work on advertising for our new lip gloss line that’s in progress right now, but he keeps turning down my offers of modeling for it. Hey–you’d make a great model for it too, actually! If you want to or if you know anyone who would, I can contact our agency about it.”

He’s grown so animated talking about the business that it makes you endeared. “Signing this lease isn’t secretly a pyramid scheme for model recruitment, is it?”

“Caught me,” he laughs, throwing his head back in amusement as he does. “Was hoping you wouldn’t read the fine print.”

It’s at this moment that you realize exactly what it was that intrigued you about Hoseok so much: He talks to you like you’ve known each other your entire life, like you’re an old friend that he can tell anything and everything to, but a new person for him to show all of his colors to and let you do the same. 

And you want to. His genuine attitude is enough encouragement for you to open up about yourself with the same amount of zeal, filling your end of the conversation with stories about your own family, your plans after university, and even pulling out your own phone to show him pictures of your parents’ dog.

It’s like his presence alone is enough to make you see the world with rose-tinted glasses.

By now, you’ve long since abandoned the notion that moving in with him was merely for the sake of both of your necessities, but because you wanted to. 

It’s so easy for you to fall into conversation with him that the next time he mentions the lease, it’s the easiest decision that you’ve ever made when you hold your hands out for him to give you the rest of the paperwork to look over before making your arrangement official.

[April 10th, 2023; 6:11 AM PST]

The fact of the matter is that you should’ve seen this moment coming. 

No matter the title of roommates, or the late night talks, or the fact that he has a copy of your class schedule saved to your phone, or the fact that he fucking applied lip balm on you because he wanted to, you didn’t have any claims to stake over his time. 

He cared for you well when you were around, but that didn’t mean you had any permanence in his mind when you weren’t. He’s Jung Hoseok for crying out loud. 

[6:13 am] hobi 🌱: Incoming FaceTime Call

Unlike the butterflies that you hadn’t even consciously recognized them to be every time you saw his name flash across your phone screen, seeing it now only makes you anxious.

You brace yourself for any explanation he may have. Prepared to not let any cracks show in your smile when you answer, because technically he doesn’t owe you one.

But the face that greets you when the FaceTime call rings through isn’t your best friend–in fact, there’s barely a face visible at all. A girl’s forehead is visible, camera angle definitely one that you are familiar with from all the instances you’ve stayed on the line with Hoseok while on the move. 

Multiple girls actually–you can count at least three heads who are all now crowded over the screen of Hoseok’s phone. None of them are the aforementioned boy. 

“Oh my God, she’s so pretty!” The girl who says this clearly gets smacked by one of the other voices present, if the yelp she lets out immediately after was anything to go by. 

“Hi! You must be Y/N! Hoseok was in such a rush to go home earlier that he left his phone in my bag! None of us realized that you called, sorry.”

You let out a breath. Fuck. Never mind the fact that he puts his phone in this girl’s bag frequently enough for him not to know when it’s missing. And for over twelve hours at that.

“Hi,” is the only small and pathetic answer that you let yourself share.

“Here, let’s stop right here,” the girl who was presumably holding his phone states, seemingly directing the rest of the group towards somewhere for them to stop walking.

There’s fumbling, more words that go over your head are exchanged, and then the camera is propped up against a café table where you can now see the three girls clearly. You recognize them individually, all three of them being girls who had made occasional cameos amongst Hobi’s social media posts of his group of friends he had made internationally. 

“Okay, okay, there we go. It’s really nice to meet you! I’m Momo, and this is Mina and Sana.” She gestures to the two other girls present.

“Ah, Hoseok told me a lot about you guys! I’m really glad that he’s made such great friends over there,” you nod. There’s so much going on right now that you can’t even make good conversation.

“Yeah, Hoseok’s told us before that he really wishes you could’ve studied abroad too. He keeps going on and on about how much you’d love it here,” Mina states. 

Sana’s quick to agree, adding more anecdotes atop the other girl’s words. “He’s always talking to us about you, it’s like sometimes he doesn’t even realize how much he does it. Like we went shopping a few weeks back, and he was explaining to me your lip balm allergy and he was really intent on making sure that his Blue Side lip balm would be perfect for you. It’s seriously so adorable how much he likes you–”

Clearly Sana is the one out of the three who has a knack for oversharing, because Momo gives her a swift pinch to her side before redirecting the conversation. “We’re on our way to Hoseok and Jimin’s dorm now!”

For the first time, you don’t hesitate to cut in. You barely even need to glance at your designated clock of Hobi’s time zone to know that it’s late at night already. “At this hour? Seriously, I appreciate it but you really could’ve just waited until morning.”

Sana is quick to shake her head, pink curls bobbing as she does so. “We’ll be careful, I promise! Plus we’re all together, Mina has her pepper spray, and we’re almost there already. Thank you for worrying!” Her warm smile damn near melts your heart. 

“Plus we know how important this call was to Hoseok!” Momo chimes in. The other two girls nod. “If we weren’t already heading over, I guarantee that he would’ve been banging on our door ten minutes from now.”

Really? You could believe it if it were just about the fact that he had lost his phone, but you being the reason why he was sent into a goose chase to get his phone back as soon as possible was somehow hard to believe.

There’s suddenly laughter and muffled voices that you can’t decipher speaking to one another on the other side, and you see rather than hear the way Hoseok and Jimin make their way into the FaceTime camera radius. 

“Y/N!”

You’d recognize the way Hoseok calls your name anywhere. 

His heart-shaped grin, his fluffy head of hair, how good he looks in a simple black t-shirt. Although the FaceTime quality is fuzzy around the edges due to the poor cell reception of the area, you recognize him immediately. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hoseok says, face coming close enough to the screen to make your heart pick up several paces. “Mina and I have the same phone case, so she must’ve accidentally taken my phone along with hers when we went grocery shopping this morning. Jimin and I literally turned our apartment upside down looking for it, and then Taehyung told me to retrace my steps through every lecture hall we went to today–”

“Only for him to realize that he had no classes today,” Jimin finishes, wrinkling his nose with fondness. “For someone so smart, he has the memory of a goldfish.” Hoseok slaps him on the shoulder in reply.

You laugh along with their storytelling, and then you can’t hear the pair of them as they speak to each other about what to do next.

“Since it’s late, Jimin and I are gonna walk the girls back to their dorm before we head back home. We’ll catch up later, I promise,” he fills you in, and with that you say your goodbyes.

So he didn’t miss your dinner date. Relief washes over you as his words echo in your mind.

We’ll catch up later, I promise.

Who are you to not believe him?

[April 21st, 2023; 1:17 PM PST]

You never thought you’d be doing this.

Running into Yujin that one time was something of a coincidence, and even though you had made peace with the grudge you’d previously held onto, you never thought that you’d want to see her again, much less in an effort to become friends.

But you could use a fresh face to talk to. Your free time was mostly occupied with Hoseok, Yoongi, Seokjin, Jiwoo, and occasionally Namjoon, and as much as you loved all of them, your head’s been a mess ever since Hoseok left after Spring Break ended and you have a feeling that speaking to any of them regarding the man that all of them were inevitably close to wouldn’t be the most productive idea.

(Re: Yoongi would hit you with a big fat “I told you so” hammer, Jiwoo was his sister, and Seokjin was… well, he was Seokjin. So yes, you were running low on options.)

You’re not necessarily looking for someone to vent about him to, but a distraction is nice.

It also helps that Yujin is somewhat familiar to you, but still a new person all the same considering how much her personality has changed from what you remember.

It’s nice to converse with her much easier than you had four years ago, it really is, but even Yujin begins to notice how you’re practically itching to get something off your mind. And per her usual mannerisms, she attacks the issue head-on. That much hasn’t changed about her.

“Oh my God, there’s a guy, isn’t there? That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” you lie, but you know damn well that it’s not convincing in the slightest. Defeated after meeting Yujin’s unimpressed gaze, you continue.

“So I have this roommate now.”

“Mhm,” she recalls, sipping her drink through her straw. “The one studying abroad?”

“Yeah that’s the one.” You take a breath, your mind a mess as you continue. “He came over to visit for Spring Break, and I dunno, it just felt like something’s changed since I last saw him.”

Yujin’s brow creases. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“That’s the thing,” you say, voice laced with frustration. “Like, I started feeling like this a little bit before he came, and then some things happened during the week that made me feel unsure if I’m just reading too far into the situation.”

“Things meaning what?” Yujin cocks a brow in interest, causing you to elaborate further into your recount of the week.

“So we were on the couch and he had this water bottle on his lap, right?” Yujin nods, and you take a breath before continuing. “But like, one of his legs was kind of slung over mine so I didn’t wanna get up, and God, I don’t know what know possessed me to do this, but I reached over and—“

”Oh my God, you accidentally grabbed his dick!?”

“No!” 

A pause. 

”You grabbed his dick on purpose!?”

You wince, embarrassment flushing through your mind. You had been so caught up in the casual intimacy of what you had actually done to even consider where this story sounded like it was going. “No, Yujin, I did not grab his dick.”

“Damn.” You ignore the fact that she sounds almost disappointed.

“As I was saying, he had a water bottle, and I just reached over and grabbed it out of his lap and drank from it! Like, what the hell, right? We’re close, but we never share drinks or do anything like that!” You attempt to laugh off the disbelief, but you should’ve known that airing out your feelings would come with inevitable prodding.

“So why’d you do it?”

Fuck. You don’t even know the answer to that still. 

But you take the first step to figuring out what the hell you’re feeling by putting all the pieces on the table so you can put the puzzle together in due time. “That’s the thing–I have no fucking idea. But I did it so easily, as if we do it all the time, or like he hasn’t been gone for three months.”

“Do you think you’re falling for him?”

And there it was. There was the question that you were dreading having to answer, not only to yourself, but apparently now you put yourself in a situation where another person’s input was involved.

At your lack of verbal response (even though your body language spoke volumes, in Yujin’s opinion), she pins you with another, slightly easier question: “What do you want to do now?”

It’s like her words open a dam, and you find yourself spilling your thoughts. “I want to talk to him about it. And about the bracelet he gave me, and the fucking lip balm formula that he made specifically because he knows my skin is sensitive. I need to know if it’s just me that’s feeling this way because I’ve never felt so comfortable around someone before and maybe the distance is what’s making me overthink–”

“Wait, he made you a what?”

You explain to Yujin Hoseok’s family brand, and his new project, and how he told you himself that he made sure that it would be specifically catered to your best interest. Her jaw only drops even further.

“That has gotta be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” You wave her off with a groan.

“I’m serious!” Yujin continues earnestly. “It’s not everyday that you hear that a guy cares about someone to a point where they’d fucking create something for them, friend or not. All I’m saying is that if you do feel something for him now, it’s pretty fucking obvious why.”

When you can only huff out a laugh, she tacks on another statement. “But I mean, talking it out would only do you good, and there’s no need to rush into starting something once he gets back home.”

Home. You feel your heart rate pick up several paces every time you get reminded of the fact that his home is where you were. That you and your quaint little place that you’ve curated to suit both of your needs and wants were his anchor amidst everything else going on in his life.

But Yujin’s right. There was no rush, and you take peace in that reminder.

“But also keep me posted, ‘cause I really want to see you guys end up together.”

You only laugh with a roll of your eyes.

[May 6th, 2023; 2:01 PM PST]

Talking it out really does help. 

That much should have been obvious, really—literally every study and every piece of media shows that communication will almost always do more harm than good.

So when Yujin helps you realize that your feelings for Hoseok were much deeper than you had previously assumed them to be, it doesn’t feel like a weight sitting atop your chest anymore. If anything, it felt more like a balloon tied by a string to you now, a part of you wherever you go, not holding you back but simply an extension of your day-to-day life. 

But for now, you’ll deal. Complicating your relationship with thousands of miles between you would do you no good, and besides, you had to focus on graduating soon. Yeah, you can hold off for another few months before deciding what to do.

What was another couple months when these feelings have been accumulating for who knows how long? 

You heard through the grapevine (otherwise known as Min Yoongi) that Namjoon is never home because he’s a PA. And that when his day isn’t occupied by work, he often spends it out of the house anyways. 

Previously you had assumed that that would mean going out with friends, or partying, but from the rare instances that you had spoken to him, you had found out that more often than not he spends those excursions alone, visiting museums and bonsai gardens and wherever the hell he was in the mood to go at the time. 

He’s mastered the art of taking himself on dates, honestly. 

Which is how you find yourself taking a page out of his book, sitting at a café you’ve never 

been to in a part of the city that you never find yourself having a good enough reason to be at. 

It’s a cat café, to be specific. You’ve always wanted to come to one of these, but your busy schedule never allowed you to even consider that you’d have the time to do so. Being here now only proves that you had only convinced yourself that you never had time to take for yourself all these years.

You snap videos of the cute felines that come your way and are hasty to publish them to your Instagram without even checking them for potential flaws. Because it doesn’t need to be perfect. You don’t need impeccable evidence of where you’ve been, you’re just happy that you’re here at all.

You hardly check your phone throughout the day, but when you do, the notification that greets you makes you smile.

[2:19 pm] jung hoseok: Replied to your story: so cute! you gotta take me here when i get back 😩

You tap out your reply promising him that you will.

And afterwards, you take a trip up to the Griffith Observatory. You hadn’t gone since you were a kid. Long before college, long before Hoseok.

Hoseok. Your best friend that you’d had no idea would ever occupy this much space in your mind.

Attraction. Fondness. Dependency. Love. All of them look similar, but they aren’t the same. 

But you’ve spent so much time trying to figure out which one was closest to what you felt that you’ve come to realize that your feelings for Hoseok couldn’t all be encapsulated using a single word. 

Not only does he take care of you as a roommate, but he cares for you even when he isn’t physically there. He wants you to live well, and he’s shown again and again that he’s constantly thinking of you when you’re not around.

You wonder if you’re on his mind just as much as he is on yours.

[May 15th, 2023; 11:46 PM PST]

These days, you find yourself enjoying things on simple terms.

You enjoy your sleep, so you try not to get home too late. You hate the feeling of cramming for exams, so you start studying little by little a week and half early. 

You have nothing better to do on your Saturday so you do laundry. You have nothing better to do on your Sunday so you and Namjoon go to the duck pond. 

You stay in and cook dinner instead of ordering in when you may have splurged a little too hard on a cute top you saw at the mall. 

The only downside is that living your life day by day rather than keeping everything planned to a tee has reduced the frequency of you and Hoseok’s phone calls.

But you don’t mind, he’s busy and so are you. 

You message him about his frequent adventures on his Instagram posts, and he texts you to ask what you’ve been up to every few days. When you do call, the conversations aren’t any less boisterous as usual, and the longevity of the calls aren’t any shorter.

To anyone else, things are as normal as it gets.

But you still miss him so, so badly.

[June 1st, 2023; 4:44 PM PST]

This time, you do everything right. 

There’s no thunderstorms, there’s no miscommunication of landing time, there’s no surprise knocks on your door in the dead of night, there’s no bed sharing.

The drive home through LAX traffic was stale, your playlists were stale, and Hoseok opting to sleep on the sheets that had been left on his bed since he left in March felt stale too.

The problem was that there was no problem at all; a year ago, hell, two months ago, you would have pegged this as normal behavior amongst the pair of you. The problem was that you wanted things to be different, that you wanted there to be more to your relationship dynamic.

But things don’t change overnight. So why did it feel so different from how this went down back in March?

[June 13th, 2023; 10:44 PM PST]

Graduation comes and goes easily.

You and Hoseok both make a mutual agreement to take two weeks off of work after graduation, just a slow inhale and exhale of a break before you two come to terms with the fact that the rest of your life will be filled with nothing but day-in and day-out monotony.

As promised, you take Hoseok to all the places that you had grown fond of during your little escapades around Los Angeles. He tells you–”it’s silly, I know,” he had mumbled with a shake of his head–that he feels like a foreigner in a place where he’s spent four years living already, and he gives a relieved exhale when you say that until recently, you had felt the same way.

Despite the fact that you now have a degree, the crowning accomplishment of your past four years of hard work, you can’t ignore the other ways in which your life still feels unfinished.

You should’ve known that your feelings would bubble up to a precipice like an unwatched boiling pot, that there’s no planning this sort of thing–that eventually you’d spill the mess of what’s on your mind when you least expect it.

It happens like this. 

It’s a surprisingly cold evening for June in Los Angeles, and like the oddball he is, Hoseok takes that as a reason to celebrate. 

In favor of the occasion, he makes spicy tofu soup because in his words, “how often do you really crave soup in the middle of Summer?”

(You don’t tell him that technically the Summer solstice wasn’t for another week.)

He presents you a bowl of his hard work with a raw egg on the side, because even though he could have cracked it into the soup for you easily, he knows you take odd satisfaction in the feeling of cracking eggs perfectly. And you eat dinner together like old times, with quiet chatter and spoons clanking against bowls.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” you start. Hesitant.

You feel stupid already.

You contemplate chickening out when you close your eyes in a drawn-out blink, but you somehow find it in you to continue, the silence splitting like a fragile eggshell to make way for your sunny-yellow emotions to spill out.

“When I first met you, I had no idea that you’d mean this much to me.”  

You want to tell him that his presence in your three years of friendship has left a mark on you in a way that no other person has. That you can’t appreciate him enough for the little things he remembers about you and the things he buys for you without a second thought. That on both high and low days, he’s the first person that you want to be around and the last person you want to see before you nod off to sleep. 

You want to tell him that you hope that he can lean on you and rest just as much as you do on him. That you love when he tells you about what’s on his mind, and when he shows you pictures of moments he’s captured on film of the world through his eyes. That you love how he fills every room he enters with sunshine that reflects off every person he meets, how he always knows what to say to make others feel significant in his presence. 

You want to tell him that meeting him was devastating.

What is love, if not devastating?

Was this love?

A near-silent exhale, and then you continue. “And I meant it when I said I was happy for you and I’d always be there for you when you went abroad. But the space and time apart made me realize that there’s this huge Hobi-shaped place in my heart that just wouldn’t go away.”

You’re not even sure if you’re making sense anymore, but you push onward. “What I’m trying to say is that our time apart made me realize how much I don’t want to just have you as a friend. Even when you came to visit during Spring Break and when you came back two weeks ago, I just kept having this feeling that I need you around. Not in the way that things used to be, because we always had that and it was never awkward between us, but a step further.” 

“I found myself wishing that we could go to dinner and to museums and the beach and actually call them dates instead of just saying that we’re hanging out together,” you continue. You want to look away from his gaze, but you refuse to. “I want to be able to call you my boyfriend when people ask what we are, and I want to be able to hug you and hold you without feeling like I’m crossing a boundary.”

Hoseok only looks at you with those unreadable eyes again. His gaze is always full of enough light to rival the warmth of the sun on your skin, but right now it feels as though you’d burn up if you dared to let your gaze linger. 

“I’m sorry if it’s just me.” 

Your breath comes out shaky now. The last thing that you can do now is cry–because you really don’t want his pity. And you don’t expect him to feel the same way, despite the rest of the world telling you that he does, and the fact that you just spilled out all your wants straight to him.

Yes, that’s it–you just needed to get this off your chest. You’ll still be roommates first, friends second after this moment passes, and now that you’re graduated, your lives are just getting started and you’ll only keep moving onto bigger and better things. The world never felt so big and overwhelming and fuck, it must be the late hour that makes you feel like you need to escape. 

The sound of his voice is enough to drag you back down to Earth.

“Y/N,” he says softly, scooting his chair towards you and placing his hand against your back. You think he’s gearing up to let you down easy, so the question he prompts you with catches you by surprise: “How long?”

How long have you been feeling this way?

You try to think. And then you verbalize it. “Since you bought me the bracelet.”

The bracelet that adorns both your wrist and his right now. The one that was meant to symbolize new beginnings for both of you, but now felt like the final nail in the coffin of your friendship.

You’re taken aback when he shakes his head with a smile. “Hoseok?” You ask, feeling small and vulnerable, needing him to say what’s on his mind before you combust.

“I’m an idiot,” he begins. He continues before you can question what he means by that.

“Do you remember when you were doing laundry at Yoongi’s house?”

When you nod, he looks like he’s fighting down layers of embarrassment to say what comes next. It’s rare that you ever see Hoseok expressing emotion beyond what he wants you to see. 

You take an odd amount of comfort in it.

“You were right–I was jealous. But not because he was spending time with you, or because I really did think that you guys were together. It was because I realized how much I missed getting to spend every second of every day with you. Throughout the day, I find myself wanting to tell you about every place I go and everything I do, but I found myself wondering what you were up to even more.”

“What I’m trying to say is… I’ll be yours if you let me,” Hobi says, and you break. “I want to take you on dates wherever you want to go, and I want to hold your hand and come home to you after work every day. I want to share all my thoughts with you, and I hope you’ll do the same for me. I know we do a lot of these things already as friends, but I want to try to be more.”

“Yes,” you breathe out. Yes, a hundred times over. “I want that too, Hobi.”

It’s out there. Both of your feelings are out in the open air like freshly-hung laundry, and you’ve never felt so much relief. The tension in the room dissipates, even more so with what Hoseok says next.

“So… around the same time, huh?”

You cringe through your smile. “Yeah… around the same time.”

“I hope you know that no matter where I am, no matter who I’m with, nobody compares to you.” You know your face must be scrunched in such an unflattering near-sob, but Hoseok only looks at you with rose-tinted lenses for eyes.

The feelings that you had for him and he had for you was not just tested by the vast blueness of distance between you, but it was because of it.

You don’t know when Hoseok rises from his seat to encase you in a back hug, but he does. He does it tenderly and paired with a kiss to the crown of your forehead, as if to piece back together the eggshell of your heart that you’d been so afraid to break.

You think you love him, but for now you won’t say it.

[August 10th, 2024; 3:42 PM PST]

You roll your eyes when Hoseok kicks you out of your shared bedroom because he needs to pack his underwear.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you deadpan, and you think the way Hobi’s ears flush red at your words is downright adorable.

“Still,” he pouts, before promptly shutting the door on you. You sigh.

It’s been little over a year since you and Hoseok had officially begun dating, but life moves fast.

You and Hoseok had moved out of your two-bedroom apartment once your lease had ended, in favor of buying a quaint little bungalow closer to the beach. Though initially you were unsure if that was too big a step to be making too soon, Hoseok reminds you that you had already been living together for years–that you had already been his home long before buying one of your own–so what difference did it really make?

It was a bit saddening to have to say goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon as neighbors, but they promised to visit since you were still barely twenty minutes away from your previous home.

And visit, they did. So did Jiwoo, Yujin, Seokjin, and occasionally Hobi’s friends that he had accumulated in Japan.

(He was absolutely right, by the way. You and Jungkook had clicked immediately and stuck together like glue after he initiated an intense debate on who would win in a fight, between Tony the Tiger and the Kool-Aid Man.

For the record, you and him were Team Kool-Aid Man, while Hobi and Taehyung were Team Tony the Tiger. You’d be bitter that Hoseok disagreed with you, but the look of sheer bafflement when you explained your reasoning made the entire ordeal that much funnier, and worth it, in your opinion.)

Hoseok’s Blue Side line launched earlier in the summer. He had begged you to be the model in the commercial films, but you insisted that you could be his muse, but you couldn’t be that multitalented.

But it all worked out in the end, because you told him to outreach the modeling gig to Seokjin instead, which kickstarted his acting career internationally.

(“Why didn’t you tell me that your friend was hot? He’s perfect for the job,” Hoseok had said, baffled after meeting Seokjin over dinner for the first time.

“Why do you think I told you to ask?” you huff. “And I figured you’d already seen him from my Instagram posts while you were gone.”

“How could I, when you were the only thing I could ever focus on?” 

You had smacked his chest softly to hide the way his words flustered you.)

In fact, the reason Hoseok was packing to begin with was for an international work trip in Osaka. One that he had cordially invited you to come with, once again true to the promise he had made to you all those months ago.

“Are you done yet?” you ask restlessly, not giving a shit as you push your bedroom door back open. “I really don’t care if your undies have holes in them or whatever, but at least let me in so I can pack too–”

You pause when you round to your side of the bed, taking notice of the not-so-subtly hidden square velvet box tucked under a shirt or two in his suitcase.

Hobi’s back is turned, facing your shared closet, clearly unaware that he’s done such a shitty job at hiding what was likely supposed to be a surprise. “Yeah, you can come back in now.”

Apparently he’s also unaware that you’d already reentered the room.

You and Hoseok had discussed marriage a handful of times, which had only increased in frequency over the past couple months. Despite the fact that you both concluded that you were still young, you had also pointed out to him that you didn’t ever see yourself wanting to be with someone else, so the wait wouldn’t do you any good. Hoseok also cracked a joke that it’d be good for tax purposes, but you don’t miss the relief that washed over his face that you were on the same page.

And that was where you had left it.

Approaching him and looking at him sideways now, you’re entranced as ever by his features. The sharpness of his jawline, the slope of his nose, the intensity of his eyes as he debates on what to pack.

When he catches you staring, you let him.

“Is something on my face?” he asks, eyes widening as he already starts wiping at his mouth.

“Nope,” you sigh out, uncaring of how lovesick your gaze is.

You lean up to give him a chaste peck to his cheek, which he had clearly not been expecting. “I love you,” you murmur, basking in the dimpled grin he returns.

Yeah, your life is good with him in it.

#networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #hoseok fic #hoseok fic recs #fic: banana clip #my brain is leaking out of my ears my god.......... #formatting this gave me carpal tunnel jfc hope u guys enjoy

[lookingforluna]

Hurtin' Me: 01 || jjk

❥ Pairing: Ex-FWB!Jungkook x Reader

❥ Word Count: 570 words

❥ Rating: M

❥ Genre: angst, future smut, romance, ex-friends with benefits, fuckboy!jungkook

❥ Warnings: explicit language, talk of sex

❥ Summary: All the girls on your campus knew not to get involved with Jungkook. Out of your roommates, he was known for stringing girls along and breaking their hearts. Sadly, that didn’t stop them from wanting him and pursuing him. You just so happened to be one of those girls too. Everything between you was a secret that not even your roommates knew about. Jungkook was the one who ended things before they went too far. Now you both must navigate living together peacefully without raising the suspicions of your roommates. To say it’s complicated would be the understatement of the year.     

❥ A/N: This is the first part of a drabble series I decided to write in honor of Jungkook's birthday! I decided to make this into a drabble series because that would mean frequent updates. There is a taglist for this series at the bottom of this post! There is no smut in this first part, but you can expect it in the next update! Thank you for the support, and Happy Birthday Jungkook! <3

“So are you gonna tell us about her?” Taehyung asks as he leans against the kitchen island, Jimin next to him as the two watches Jungkook finish his cereal.

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you shovel another spoonful of french toast into your mouth. This was a weekly occurrence in your shared apartment. The three of them would gather at the kitchen counter on a Saturday morning to talk about their latest hookup. You swear they were just as bad as teenage girls.

“It didn’t get very far, honestly,” Jungkook shrugs while taking a sip of his banana milk. Your ears perk up at this particular statement finding it extremely out of character for Jungkook not to follow through with a girl.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t get it up,” Jimin laughs, clapping Taehyung on the back as he erupts into laughter as well.

The thought has a small smile forming at the corner of your lips, which you hope is discrete enough to go unnoticed by Jungkook or any of the boys. You take a quick sip of your water, enjoying the sweetness of the syrup washing away.

“No, it’s because I don’t deflower virgins.”

You knew this was karma for finding Jimin and Taehyung’s jokes funny because as soon as you hear that statement, you choke on the water causing all heads to turn to you.

“Damn, Y/N, you good?” Taehyung says while giving you an extra hard slap against your back and sending you into a fit of coughs. One thing about these boys is that they did not see you as a girl. To them, you were just one of the boys, which meant receiving the same treatment.

“Looks like someone forgot how to swallow?” Jungkook smirks while looking directly into your eyes.

If looks could kill, Jungkook was certain he would be dead from just your heated stare alone. If there was one thing he loved doing, it was pushing your buttons. He hadn’t planned on making such a sly remark to you, but after seeing that small smile on your lips, he had to.

“Oh fuck off,” you mumble while wiping your mouth with a napkin, collecting small drops of water that escaped from your choking fiasco.

“Anyways, please continue,” Jimin says, unfazed by your little moment. 

Jungkook rises from his seat and makes his way over to the sink, his hands rolling up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal inches and inches of inked skin. Even though you saw them countless times, you were always hypnotized by his tattoo.

“Yea, why don’t you sleep with virgins?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious and surprised by this new information.

Jungkook opens the faucet, wetting the sponge and squeezing some soap onto it before turning around. His eyes flicker to Taehyung and Jimin before settling onto yours and speaking.

“Because I’m not the right guy for someone’s first time.”

There’s not much that needs to be said after that. Taehyung and Jimin continue to speak to Jungkook, but everything they say just blends into the background of your thoughts as you pick up your plate. You decide to wait for Jungkook to finish washing his own dishes, but as you stand there, Jungkook reaches for your plate. His eyes soften as you avoid his gaze, looking at his throat instead.

“Thanks,” you mumble before walking away and leaving him to his thoughts.

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[reneejuliet]

Leave Everything You Need

Author: reneejuliet Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1,292 Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Friends to Lovers?, Idol AU Author’s Note: It's aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive! Sorry to say but this story isn't quite dead just yet. Let's not talk about the time between the last installments, however - mostly because I'm hoping to just look the other way at my horrible time management and planning skills. But anyway! Here it is, folks - the parting of the clouds! The angst is finally beginning to thin out. This is still more of an interlude, a stepping stone if you will, before things begin to *happen* in subsequent parts. I hope you'll enjoy it all the same.

Also, to anyone who stuck around this long - my most sincere gratitude to you all. I've been sitting on this part for 9 months now and it has plagued me each and every day. So, I truly do hope you enjoy this little slice. I'm sorry it wasn't worth the long wait. I'll try to make up for all that in the next part.

You can find all previous parts here, under The Incident™ Installments.

It was a considerate gesture.

Awards season is always hectic. There’s so much to do and so many places to be, and so little time to do it all in. Sure, there’s managers and assistants and handlers, all helping their talent stumble through the complimentary chaos that comes and goes like clockwork each year. It never ceases to be overwhelming, though.

That’s why little things like this are so stupidly appreciated. It isn’t unusual to receive congratulatory gifts from other artists and companies – in fact, more idols are friends with each other than not. Still, amidst all the rehearsals, schedules, and traveling, it’s hard to find the time to express sentimentality. At least to those not within the same company.

This is hardly Bangtan’s first rodeo, though, and over the years they’ve made quite a name for themselves. Garnered the respect and admiration of their fans and peers. So when they walk into work each morning during this season, it’s far from unusual to see a collection of bouquets or gift baskets awaiting them. Still, it’s humbling each and every time, and they make sure to afford the appreciation each gift deserves.

That’s how Hoseok came across the card. It was tucked into a small assortment of flowers and balloons, all of which were vibrant and radiating cheer. It was his turn to reach the felicitations aloud, so he’d opened the envelope and flashed the others the shiny front as if it were an award itself. Then he’d opened it with his usual boisterous flair, lips poised to sing the song of congratulations within – until suddenly, it felt like all the air was knocked clean out of his lungs. It was signed by an up-and-coming group from one of the smaller agencies, their messy signatures scrawled haphazardly along the bottom of the card. Each name had a small handwritten note above it to add a personal touch, but it was the main message that caught him off guard. The slopes and slants of each character, the way it weighted to the right. The distinguishing little squiggle of a smiley face at the very end. He knew that handwriting.

You.

You had penned the celebratory tidings yourself. That’s why the names suddenly looked familiar. This was a congratulations from the group you now handled. The group that had taken you away from him.

It wasn’t a fair way to view them, Hoseok knew that. He just couldn’t help it. Just as he couldn’t blame you for making the decision to leave. Your contentment at HYBE had been tentative, temporary at best. You were never meant for office duty, to be cooped up in a glass cage all day. And despite the tarnish to your reputation, your work ethic still spoke volumes. Bang PD had made sure of it. It was only a matter of time before someone else came along to headhunt you.

Hoseok had done some snooping, seeking what information he could get on this new group. He even looked into the company itself, ensuring that they would treat you right. That it was a place where you could be happy. There were no red flags to be found, not even as far down as he had dug. He only hoped they would offer you the future you deserved.

A few months into your employment, the group really started to take off. Their mini album had reached the charts, their video channel surpassed 500,000 views, and they’d been nominated for their first awards show, where they would be performing the nominated song. It was also one of the awards shows where Bangtan had several nominations of their own. Initially, it hadn’t been in the schedule for them to attend, but once Hoseok learned that your group would be there – and, by association, you – he'd played every card he had until he’d convinced the company to send them.

Anything for the chance to see you again.

He’d been unsure whether or not you even still thought about him. If you wondered where he was, what he was doing. Who he was with. The radio silence on your end had told him you didn’t. Many times he had wanted to reach out, to try and initiate any form of contact, but he could never bring himself to do it. He was too afraid of the rejection. After all, you’d more than proven that you were just fine without him.

Until now. Until this card. The company could have had an assistant make it up, write out the same old boring commendations and have the talent sign their names to it. Instead, you had handwritten a personal message, made sure the genuine pride and happiness for their seonbaenims was sincerely and accurately conveyed. And if he was a gambling man, Hoseok would bet it all that you even chose the bouquet yourself.

“Hoseok-ah?”

His attention snaps up at the call of his name, soft and questioning. His members are all staring at him with varying degrees of concern. That’s when he feels the wetness in his eyes, the vise around his throat. In his hands, the card has begun to shake.

“What is it?” Namjoon asks, approaching with a careful hand. He takes hold of the card, waits for Hoseok to release it. The paper is creased where his fingers gripped too tightly. Hoseok sniffs and wipes roughly at his eyes as Namjoon scans the message.

“What does it say?” Jungkook asks, leg bouncing in anticipation.

Namjoon’s brow furrows. He looks to Hoseok, who is pointedly staring across the room, before back to the card. His lips purse together in thought as he reads the message again. Deciphers the signatures of its senders.

Realization dawns on him like a sunrise, lighting his face in a rosy recognition. The autographs are clumsy, the sloppy signature of someone unpracticed. All of which are at odds with the firm, delicate writing of a more feminine hand. Someone clearly not a part of the group itself.

Namjoon ignores Jungkook’s question in favor of his own. “Y/N sent this?”

The room titters at the sound of your name. Hoseok isn’t the only one who misses you.

Hoseok swallows and nods his head. “It’s from her new company, the new group she’s working with. And it – it’s her handwriting.”

“I wanna see!”

The other members clamber toward their leader, each vying for a glimpse at the card. Namjoon sounds very much like a father of young children as he scolds their grabby hands, warning against ripping the card. Hoseok takes this time to examine the bouquet closely, poking at the balloons and running fingertips over flower petals. It’s a sweet arrangement, pretty and fun.

One of the balloons pops off its plastic stick and Hoseok fumbles to catch it before it hits the floor. It’s just large enough that it’s a little hard to grip, slipping between his fingers until he’s able to secure both hands around it. Huffing in equal parts annoyance and amusement, he turns to place it back in its rightful spot, when he’s struck by another unsuspecting detail of the bouquet.

There’s a sunflower, right in the middle of everything. Just the one. Usually, the flowers are repeated or at least similar in color and design. He can’t help but suspect that this was intentional, and it so, he’s not sure his heart can handle soaring at such an altitude. Because you told him once how he reminds you of a sunflower, bright and bold and open.

Balloons forgotten, Hoseok reaches out to skim the petals of the sunflower. There’s water in his eyes again, but happiness in his smile.

You haven’t forgotten him. Not yet. Now, he just has to make sure it stays that way.

→ Taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist, or if you’d like tagged for a specific fic series or member! @jinfizz @hobi-love @folkpunkrock-littlewing-blog @dvalitaes @pb-n-juju @fangirls94 @halesandy

©reneejuliet 2022. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.

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[shuadotcom]

Familiar Hauntings | KNJ

⤷ Summary: You and Namjoon have worked hard to become expert paranormal investigators. You’ve successfully investigated and exorcised a number of demons and ghosts all over the world and your followers believe in you enough to keep you confident and going. That’s why when you get a call about a family with a teenage daughter experiencing traumatizing hauntings, you and your team don’t think twice about going to help.

It isn’t until you get there do you realize that you may be in over your heads when you come face to face with a familiar evil. It’s going to take more effort than you thought you’d need to get rid of this sinister force before it destroys an innocent family, and even you.

⤷ Pairing: Demonologist!Namjoon x Clairvoyant F!reader

⤷ Film/Franchise: The Conjuring

⤷ Genre/AU: Thriller, horror-ish, angst, established relationship au, supernatural au

⤷ Rating: PG15

⤷ Warnings: Demons and ghosts, violence, possessions, profanity, mention of blood, mentions of death (nothing too graphic though!)

⤷ Words: 10k

⤷ Note: Written for the Bangtan Cinema: Horror Night collab!! Thank you a million times to @the-boy-meets-evil​ for betaing this in only a few hours! You’re literally the best ❤️ And thank you to @rkivian​ for this bomb ass banner!! I asked for something spooky with Joon in glasses and Kiri delivered!! 😍

Horror is my favorite movie genre, but I quickly found out how hard it is to write 🥴 It’s a whole different set of skills that I don’t think I have down very well, but it was fun to try - especially to pay homage to my favorite horror series!

I’m trying really hard to finish up my remaining collab fics for the year because I have more writing plans for 2023 so please bear with me y’all!! 🖤

“Ugh, that flight was so much more cramped than I remember,” Namjoon complains, rubbing his sore neck.

“Do we have enough time to grab something to eat before the hotel?” Mingyu questions.

“We have just enough time for a drive-through stop before dropping our stuff at the hotel and heading to the assignment.” Your assistant Jeongyeon reads off of her phone. “The Jacksons live fifteen minutes away so the ride won’t be too long.”

“Hey, everyone, we just landed here in the U.S. Say hi to everyone!” Jungkook, bringing up the rear of your group, catches up to walk in front of the four of you, panning the camera around. You wave, giving the camera a tired smile.

“Jeongyeon, can you tell us about the family we’ll be helping today?” When you’re all in your taxi, Jungkook turns the camera towards the woman as she’s triple checking the address for the hotel.

“The Jacksons, a family of five from New York,” she begins, barely missing a beat. “Their teenage daughter Siobhan has been experiencing what they believe to be a haunting for the past three months. She’s claiming to hear and see things that none of the family saw until a month ago. They experienced the usual: things moving when no one touched them, doors slamming, even voices in the house that aren’t any of the family members.” Jeongyeon pauses swiping the page on her tablet before continuing.

“The last month has been the most troubling. She’s been waking up with bruises and small cuts all over her body. She’s also been sleeping for days straight and the family can’t wake her up. It’s at random sometimes when she’s napping or sleeping. It’s to the point where she tries to stay up as long as she can which she can barely do anymore.”

“Do you think this thing is trying to take her body or something?” Mingyu asks you and Namjoon.

Namjoon shrugs. “It’s likely. Just hearing the story on the surface, it’s definitely something trying to possess her or take her soul. The question really is just what it is and what exactly it wants.”

“They have two other kids too - a nineteen-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter, so they’re even more nervous that this entity will attach to them too.” When Jeongyeon reminds you of that, your nerves spike. You’ve had to help other families with multiple kids and a demon can try and possess multiple people at once. It makes this situation go from a normal emergency to an even more dire one.

Jungkook continues to prattle on to your audience about New York while you take the time to yourself to mentally prepare not only for your job but also to be mindful of the camera and your virtual audience as well.

At times, you can’t believe the way that so many people on the internet tune into your videos to watch you and Namjoon use your gifts to save people’s lives. You didn’t start online, showing people that you have the power to communicate with demons and ghosts and Namjoon didn’t become an exorcist and demonologist to be famous.

The gift of clairvoyance came to you as young as five. Sightings of ghosts started to be as normal as seeing alive people. It took a while for you to realize that everyone around you wasn’t like you - your family and friends couldn’t speak to the old woman that lived in your living room in your childhood home. No one else could hear the little girl crying in the back of your school bus in third grade; no one except you.

For years your parents were concerned for you and your sanity and you couldn’t say you blame them. Your mom stuck by you though and even today, while she doesn’t know how you even acquired this gift, she supports you. Your father, on the other hand, died a nonbeliever when you entered middle school and even though you still wish he was here today to see what you’ve done with this “disturbing part of you” as he called it, you’re surrounded by nothing but support now.

It did take years admittedly, for you to find anyone who supported you as much as Namjoon though. When you moved to Korea for college, he caught your eye immediately. Something about him was different than anyone you’ve ever met and he felt the same. It didn’t take long for you to share this part of yourself that was private. Even though you’d lost countless friends and partners because of it, Namjoon didn’t even bat an eye when you told him there was a spirit in the stairwell of his dorm building.

“I knew there was something!” He had practically yelled, nearly getting you kicked out of the library. He didn’t have the same gift as you but he could always feel the presence of things no one can see. It’s what made him obsessed with the supernatural and the afterlife, wanting to know more about the things he sensed.

It was when you were close to graduation and you’d been inseparable since your first year that he broached the idea of becoming paranormal investigators and learning how to do exorcisms. You’d never thought about it, but it made sense. Both of you felt as though you can be doing more with what you know about demons and ghosts and so you agreed.

Things fell into place after that. You learned how to do exorcisms from a friend of your mother’s in the church. Neither you nor Namjoon are religious people, so you took what you learned from there and spent another year tweaking it to fit more into what you both believe in. You still remember being laughed at by a former friend who also believed in the supernatural for wanting to do exorcisms with crystals and spells instead of the bible, but it’s what felt right to you.

You felt even more secure in that decision when you and Namjoon performed your first exorcism. A friend from your office job at the time was complaining about her cousin’s son who was acting so differently.

“Different how?” You’d asked and she explained that he’d often sleep a lot all day, have extreme mood swings, and would even talk and engage with empty rooms. He was being written off as puberty and maybe schizophrenia, but something in you disagreed.

To your surprise, the mother agreed to let you and Namjoon visit her son and see how he was doing. She was so desperate on the phone when you got her number from your co-worker. She babbled about how she felt insane at even contemplating something like possession but every doctor she’d taken him to said all of his tests were fine and there was nothing they could do.

That’s how you and Namjoon discovered a low-level demon was possessing the boy. It took you two days to gather the necessary spells and crystals to banish the demon, but with shaking hands and nervousness you still can’t quite describe, you banished the demon within the child. The sheer relief in the little boy’s eyes is still one that you can never get out of your head. He cried, his mother cried, and you cried because holy shit you just exorcised a demon out of a kid.

Namjoon retold your experiences on his blog and on a demonology Reddit forum he frequented and miraculously, someone in Busan found his post and truly believed him, messaging him, begging for his help.

That was your second exorcism. Then there was a couple in Gangnam. Then a family in Daegu. Then came the emails from Japan, and Europe and then in just three years, you and Namjoon were getting inquiries from all over the world. His blog had turned into both that and your website where people could reach out and ask for you to help their spouses, their parents, their children, and anyone that they care about that was being haunted somehow.

The two of you were busier than you could keep up with and you knew you needed more help and more equipment to be able to detect entities more effectively. That alone took another six months of research and interviews to gather a team of people you trusted and could help.

Jeongyeon was first. She was formerly an assistant to other celebrities and idols but left due to the high-maintenance attitudes. She says she loves working for you and Namjoon more than anyone else because you were just normal people who just so happened to have a following and liked helping people. You know that you’re not supposed to be overtly friendly with people who work with you, but Jeongyeon is admittedly your best friend and keeps you in line when you get too emotional or forgetful.

Jungkook and Mingyu were next. They were best friends and were fascinated by demons and what you and Namjoon do, in addition to being fans. When they saw Namjoon’s post about looking for a team to put together, they wasted no time in messaging him to meet. You only needed one additional person to help work the camera and the equipment you could finally afford to buy, but the of them were a package deal and were passionate about one day doing what you do, so you brought them on.

The five of you have been a team for the last year and you and Namjoon quickly found that you now couldn’t be nearly as successful and efficient without them.

With your bags safely in your hotel and the group fed and sufficiently briefed on the family, you pull up to the house. The suburban neighborhood is quiet and the house in front of you is a brick two-story home. The front yard is normal, with a tree in the front and the lawn decently manicured. There’s a small garden and two cars parked in the driveway.

From the outside, the house is completely normal and no one driving by would ever suspect there’s a dark, evil cloud hanging heavily over it that you can feel as soon as you start up the walkway.

Namjoon rings the doorbell and takes your hand, already feeling how uneasy you are.

The door opens only seconds later, a couple looking expectantly at your group. “Mr. and Mrs. Jackson?” The woman nods hesitantly and you give them a smile that you hope is reassuring.

“Thank you so much for coming, please come in,” the husband says, the couple stepping aside and ushering you all into the house. The atmosphere of the home is so cold and frail compared to how warmly decorated it is with knick-knacks and family photos everywhere. Your eyes take in one particular photo showing the family of five standing in front of Cinderella’s castle at Disney, their smiles wide and jubilant.

A stark contrast to the solemn looks you were greeted with.

“Where are your children?” You ask, turning back to the parents.

“Oh, Siobhan’s upstairs. Our son and other daughter are at my mom’s while we, uh… do this.” Mrs. Jackson wrings her hands as she speaks, glancing back at her husband.

“That’s good. These things tend to work best when there are fewer people involved.” The couple shares a look at Namjoon’s words before ushering all of you into the living room. This space is also decorated with mementos and feels just as rigid.

“So, uh, how exactly will this work?” Mr. Jackson asks, glancing at you and the rest of your team.

“Well, Namjoon, Jeongyeon, and I will talk to Siobhan and get to know a little more about what’s going on. We have the information you gave us of course, but talking to her may give us a better idea as to what we’re dealing with. Jungkook and Mingyu will use some of our equipment around the house and see if they can pick up anything that may be roaming around.” You point to the two men that wave as they unpack some of their gear.

Mrs. Jackson gives everyone a watery smile before zooming in on you. “Rich and I have done a lot of research on you guys. You’ve helped a lot of people over the years and you seem to always know how to get rid of whatever is…haunting people.”

“That’s right. We do our best.”

“We were still skeptical, but we want to trust you. No one else has been able to help. We went to every church in the county and damn near the state before emailing you. They all either didn’t believe us or couldn’t do anything at all. We just want our daughter to be safe.” Her voice cracks at the end of her words and her husband pulls her into a hug.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jackson -”

“Please, call us Rich and Mona.”

Namjoon nods. “Rich and Mona, I promise you we’re going to do everything we can. We’ve had a few occasions where we’ve been up against some forces that we needed to call in reinforcements for, but we would never leave a client without help. You can count on us.”

You and the team then spread out to jump into your work. Mona leads you up to Siobhan’s room and stays in the hall as you knock.

“Come in,” The voice is quiet but you still hear it.

Siobhan Jackson is seventeen years old but looks much younger in person. She’s hunched over at her desk chair, a large sweatshirt draped on her with her laptop illuminating her tired expression as she stares blankly at it. Her curls are in a bun, tendrils of hair hanging around her face.

She looks up and meets your expression, brown eyes full of exhaustion and something else sad that you can’t quite place, but you know it’s a form of sadness. The room is stifling, something in the air filling your lungs as soon as you inhale. You don’t know what it is, but you know it’s there and you know it’s not good.

“Hi, Siobhan. I’m Y/n. This is my husband Namjoon.”

“Hi.” Her voice is soft and her tone is low.

“I suppose you know why we’re here.” She nods. “Would you mind if we asked you some questions? We’ve heard from your parents, but I’d like to hear from you.”

She nods and waves you the three of you on. You and Namjoon sit on the long ottoman at the end of her bed while Jeongyeon takes her vanity chair, tablet at the ready. Siobhan’s laptop is open to YouTube, but it’s just sitting on the homepage.

“Um, well, when we moved here, I knew something was weird in the house, especially my room. Everyone said it was just because I was homesick but I knew I was right. He popped up when I turned seventeen and was nice to me at first. It sounds weird, I know, but he was someone I could talk to since I don’t have too many friends at school.

I thought he just was lonely too and wanted someone to be friends or whatever with, but then my eighteenth birthday happened and he got mean. He’d tell me how my family doesn’t love me and how no one at school likes me and how there was nothing left for me here and why should I stick around.” Her voice cracks at these words, making you frown. The memories of a similar experience with a demon when you were her age crop up, but you will it away. You need to concentrate on Siobhan.

“Did he make any offers or propositions to you?”

“Yeah, he um, he wants me to go with him. I don’t know where, but like, he wants me to be his bride.” She says it with disgust, which is relieving. You’ve run into more people than you’d like that considered being possessed willingly or who were disillusioned into believing that their entity cared for them. Siobhan doesn’t seem to be a victim in that sense so there’s still time to save her.

“Okay. And do you know anything else about him?”

She looks visibly flustered, her tan skin turning the lightest shade of red. “Oh, yeah, um, at first he was just a voice, but then he showed up in front of me. He doesn’t look like a demon or anything. He looks a lot like my favorite singer.”

Frowning you glance at Jeongyeon who has been jotting down her words on her tablet.

“And who’s that?”

“Um, Park Jimin.” Siobhan gestures around the room and you finally notice the sheer amount of posters of the K-Pop singer on her walls.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed about. Demons are sneaky and will use anything they can to make us let our guard down. Just remember it’s all a trick and he just wants to hurt you.”

“I know. I just want him to go away.” Her shoulders sag as she picks at a stray string on her sweater sleeve.

“Of course you do,” Namjoon chimes in. “And he will. Is there anything else we need to know? Anything helps so that we can do a little more research and try to find his name.”

Siobhan looks to the ceiling, thinking of anything else to add. “Um, he’s mostly in my room. Like, he can go all over the house obviously since he keeps terrorizing everyone, but he spends most of his time in here.”

“Makes sense. You’re what he wants so he’s going to stick by you. We’ll have to draw him out and also do the banishment spell in here then.”

You and Namjoon share a look and get up, ready to go see what the rest of the team found.

“Um, Mrs. Kim?” Siobhan’s timid voice squeaks up before you’re out of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do I have anything to do? Like I don’t know how this works.”

“You don’t need to do anything. We’ll be casting a banishment spell once we draw the demon out then we’ll cleanse the room and house when he’s gone to clear a lot of the dark aura that he’s cast. It isn’t that crazy. Most of the entities we banish go with a minimal fight. All you have to do is stay back and let us take care of it.” You hope your voice offers her some ease and it seems to work as she gives you the first smile you’ve seen since you entered her room.

The rest of the day is spent researching and setting up equipment. Jungkook and Mingyu have EMF meters, digital thermometers, and infrared cameras around the house and they also have a few motion-activated cameras near Siobhan’s room and scattered around elsewhere.

You and Namjoon have been flipping through your archives to get a sense of who this demon is. He’s some sort of love or lust demon, wanting to make Siobhan his bride. This narrows it down, but not nearly enough to be able to pinpoint him yet. There are far more entities that desire a human soul as a partner out there than people may realize.

The majority of demons that want a human soul or vessel will play any mind games they have the power to use to manipulate their target. It’s all textbook 101 demon behavior so far, so you have to wait to catch a glimpse of something on one of the cameras around and maybe make out the demon’s form to help figure out who it is.

“So are we doing the usual thing here when we find out who this demon is?” Mingyu plops into the kitchen chair next to you, peering over your shoulder at your laptop screen.

“Likely, yes. What the family has described sounds like a normal love-hungry entity. We have to try and draw him out in Siobhan’s room, then immediately we’ll need to start a banishment spell. Depending on who it is we can decide which crystals we may need for the ritual and then go from there.”

“Do you think we’ll need anything extra?”

“Unless this demon surprises us, I don’t think so.”

You ignore the nagging feeling in your gut that something about this job feels off and chalk it up to casual nerves, opting to proceed as usual.

Hours tick by with no movement in the house. You’ve done the most research you can and are just waiting for some signs in the house. This is the most normal part of what you do - sitting around and playing the waiting game.

When it’s nearly midnight and you’ve been in the house almost all night, you decide to call it quits and go back to the hotel until tomorrow. Sometimes the entities know when someone like you are in the house and attempt to hide their presence as long as they can, but they always make an appearance eventually.

The next morning, when you’re back in the house, you find out your hunch was correct. The various cameras you left around the house were able to pick up something walking around last night while the family slept.

“The images are hard to decipher. This is definitely not a person, but we can’t tell who or what.” Jungkook explains as he points to the shots on his screen.

The image from the motion detector camera shows a blur that’s dark, misty grey, and is tall - very tall - but you can’t make out much more. The infrared findings picked up massive cold spots moving around the house, specifically around Siobhan’s room. You stare at it, a vision clouding your mind at that moment.

It’s Siobhan, even if this is a particularly murky vision. She’s flailing around uncontrollably on the ground, looking as though she’s fighting for air. Her screams echo in your ears, loud and desperate.

“Y/n?!” Namjoon’s voice rips you from your vision as you blink, trying to clear the blur.

“What?”

“You were gasping as if you couldn’t breathe and you started yelling” He’s concerned, his eyebrows scrunching up on his forehead.

You hadn’t even realized that what was happening to Siobhan in your vision was happening to you at the same time. After retelling what you saw, you feel a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Do you think it was a warning?” Namjoon questions.

“Maybe. Clearly whatever’s in the house knows we’re here and has something to say about it.”

You mull Namjoon’s words over and realize how right he is. This entity knows more about you than you know about it at this point. It was showing you what it can do and there’s nothing you can do about it. It can take Siobhan over or harm her at any moment. Entities have infiltrated your psyche before to broadcast their twisted desires to you, but this time feels especially sinister, with unmeasurable unease washing over you.

“We don’t know his name yet but we have to try to draw him out at least. We can get him out and try to banish him with a general spell.”

Namjoon shares a skeptical look with everyone else in the room at your words. “But if we don’t know his name will it even work? You know that we need the name of the entity to for sure banish it.”

“I know, but we can’t afford to wait on when he wants to fully make himself known. He knows we’re here and isn’t happy about it so we need to at least be around him and I can probably find out myself.”

Reluctantly, everyone agrees as you start to move and prepare for the banishment. You all move fluidly, used to working together like this to prepare everything. You rifle through your bag, sifting through your crystals until you find a handful that should work.

Jungkook, Mingyu, and Jeongyeon work to set up tripods for your normal filming cameras - two in the corner pointing towards the middle of the room where Siobhan sits. Jeongyeon then makes a thick line of salt in the doorway to the bedroom and around the sills of the two locked windows.

“As soon as we draw him out, you’ll head straight for the door and shut it behind you to be safe, okay? Don’t come in here unless we tell you to.” Siobhan nods at your instructions. Given that this demon has his sights set on her, you’re having her stick around for now as you see if you can get him to so himself. I’m going to go into a meditation state so I can enter what’s called the in-between to try and see if he’s here and we just can’t see him in our world. Hopefully, he’s more likely to be spotted with you here.”

“Everyone ready?” You pose the question to the room and get collective answers of agreement.

With you in front of Siobhan, you take a deep breath and fish your aquamarine crystal out of your bag. The small blue stone has always aided in clearing your mind and letting you focus on everything in a room with you, which includes any being, whether of this world or another.

Namjoon begins reciting a summoning spell from behind you, calling the demon out into the open while you center yourself. Quickly, you fall into a standing meditation, your body feeling lighter. When you slowly open your eyes, the room around you becomes hazy as if covered in a light film. You can hear Namjoon, his voice is muffled behind you as you take in your surroundings.

At first, everything around you looks as it does normally. It’s not until your eyes land on a hand mirror on Siobhan’s desk that you see something out of the ordinary. Upon approaching it, you watch as it glows red - the telltale sign that it’s haunted.

You move to grab it, but as soon as your hand makes contact with the handle, it burns and you pull your hand back with a hiss. While holding your breath, you approach it, peering down to peek into the reflection.

All at once the sensation of ice water being poured over you hits and you reel backward. You hadn’t even noticed this familiar mirror in the room. You remember feeling the stifling feeling when you first entered the bedroom yesterday, but not once could you have guessed that this would be the source of the negativity.  

“Hey, Y/n. Long time no see.” The deep, gritty voice speaks from the mirror and it immediately has you stumbling and knocking you back from the in-between.

Your eyes pop open and you see Namjoon in front of you, looking worried.

“Siobhan, downstairs!” She scrambles up out of her chair at your words without a second thought and rushes past you. Jeongyeon holds the door open for her, then shuts it tight.

“Joon, we need to -”

The loud sound of someone clearing their throat on the other side of Siobhan’s room stops you. Everyone turns to look and sees him sitting on her desk with his legs perfectly crossed.

He looks just like the posters lining Siobhan’s wall. Same touseled dark hair, round cheeks, and soft smile but it’s not him. This demon can take the form of whatever he pleases; usually the appearance of whatever his latest victim pleases. You know this to be true because you remember this very same voice coming from the body of your teenage crush, sitting in your room when you were the same age as her. How could you have been so stupid not to put the pieces together? Sure what she’s been experiencing is typical of near possessions but you just knew the air in this house was especially foreboding and oh-so-familiar. You’d even missed the hand mirror sitting on her vanity.

“What are you doing here?” Your words are sharp and you hope they sound as vicious as they did in your head.

The demon throws his head back to laugh, and it only serves to frustrate you more. “What do you think, Y/n? I’m still looking for a bride. Would you believe after all these years, I haven’t been able to find anyone like you? But, Siobhan, well she’s different. She reminds me so much of you.” He grins at you, clearly wanting to provoke you.

Namjoon shifts behind you, his hand grabbing your arm to bring you closer.

“Y/n, do you know this demon?” You nod. You wish you didn’t. You’ve spent more than a decade pushing him out of your mind and yet here he is, as smug as he was when he haunted you in your bedroom all those years ago.

“Namjoon, get the banishing spell ready.” You hear him rustling behind you, flipping through the pages of his spellbook. “Jungkook, Mingyu, get your crystals ready - we’re going to need your help.”

“You can do whatever it is you want. You can’t get rid of me.” The demon laughs from across the room.

“I did once.”

He stands to his feet and stretches, seemingly uncaring about your words.

“Little girl, that was simply a fluke. I won’t let you cast me away again.” His red eyes bore into yours but you refuse to back down. You grip the black tourmaline crystal that always hangs around your neck, your other hand already reaching into your shoulder bag to swap out the crystals in hand.

With his spell book in hand, Namjoon sidles up next to you. Jungkook and Mingyu stand on either side of the two of you, staring back at the demon.

“This won’t take long.” You fish a flew fluorite crystals out of your bag. “Jungkook, grab your smoky quartz. Mingyu, you get your shungite. We need to get him out and keep him out.”

“What’s his name?” Namjoon asks once he’s ready.

You glare at the demon’s smug face and watch as he puts his hands in his pockets. You want to believe you can do this but his confidence is a bit jarring.

“Asmodeus.” At the sound of his name, the demon’s grin only widens, all of his sharp teeth on display now. Your husband lets out a small gasp from next to you but quickly recovers as he begins to recite the spell.

Jungkook and Mingyu join him, reciting the words after him under their breaths. Gripping your crystals, you hold them up toward the demon, repeating his name over and over again. The furniture in the room begins to wobble and an unknown wind picks up.

“Give it a rest already!” Asmodeus calls out, stumbling backward. His wings unfurl and he crouches in response, planting his feet on the carpet.

Namjoon only gets louder as do Jungkook and Mingyu. With most other demons, you and Namjoon can banish them yourselves, but you know this one. You can barely recall how you had the strength to banish him from your life at seventeen, but you’ve always accepted that you had been lucky when you did it alone after researching him, but something tells you this won’t be so easy.

“Asmodeus!” You yell sternly, rubbing the bumpy, purple-ish crystals around in your hand. The combination of the crystals along with knowing the demon’s name and the banishing spell should be enough. It should, but you can see Asmodeus is only getting seemingly more and more agitated.

He’s frowning now, eyes darting between all of you as none of you relent. The wind in the room picks up as you watch one of Siobhan’s lamps go flying across the room, whizzing in front of you.

“It’s not going to fucking work! I will be taking that girl with me!” The demon growls, eyes blazing as he flaps his wings and hovers in the air. You take a step back but continue.

Everything else happens faster than you can account for. Asmodeus crosses his arms around his body making an x-shape before uncrossing them, sending everything around the room airborne. Papers, books, and stuffed animals whirl around the room and you duck to avoid them. Jungkook grunts from your side as a shoe hits him in the leg, but he only falters for a second. When you all duck to avoid Siobhan’s nightstand smashing into the wall, Asmodeus dashes through the air across the room.

He soars over your head and you can only watch in panic as he goes careening into Jeongyeon.

“Jeongyeon!” You sprint forward, intending to grab her arm, but you’re not quick enough. You can only watch in horror as the demon crashes through the door, sending Jeongyeon flying with it as both the tattered wood and her tumble through the air and backward toward the top of the stairs. She lands back first on the door and it slides down, tumbling to the first floor.

The four of you scramble out of the room and down the stairs to her side.

“Jeongyeon?! Jeongyeon can you hear me?!” You lean down to listen to her breathe. “She’s still breathing. Someone call an ambulance!”

Mingyu quickly grabs his phone, dialing 911 next to you. Namjoon is across from you and surveys the room, the demon is nowhere to be found. The Jacksons are huddled in the entryway to the living room while Jungkook talks with them, assumedly doing damage control. An occasional cut or scrape or even getting shoved by an entity is one thing, but tumbling down a flight of stairs is another.

“Y/n the doctor says she’ll be fine. She’s just bruised and her arm is sprained. She said she was lucky the door broke her fall. It could’ve been really bad if she’d gone down with nothing behind her.”

“Fuck, Joon I know, I just feel terrible. I should’ve known that we’d need help. He was so smug and confident - why didn’t I know that he was stronger?!”

You’re pacing outside of Jeongyeon’s hospital room. She suffered a concussion on top of the sprain, but she’ll bounce back. You glance in through the door that’s been left ajar as she talks to the doctor inside. The guilt is still strong though. Mingyu and Jungkook stayed at the house with the Jacksons. Asmodeus will only be more agitated at this point and could attempt to possess Siohan at any time. You and Namjoon will need to get back soon, but you needed to be sure Jeongyeon is alright.

Namjoon comes over and grabs your shoulders, stopping you mid-stride. “Y/n, hey, it’s okay. You couldn’t have possibly known for sure. I remember you telling me about being haunted when you were a teenager, but you couldn’t have known for sure it was him. Besides, it’s been over a decade.”

Letting out a tired whimper, you fall into his arms, burying your head in his chest. “What do we do? Do we need more help?”

“Already taken care of. Remember Yoongi?”

“Min Yoongi? The guy that you met in that demon subreddit?”

“Yeah. He’s here in the city for a friend’s wedding, but I texted him on the way and he agreed to meet us at the Jacksons’ tomorrow morning. He’s going to help us banish Asmodeus. I think with someone as knowledgeable as him we can do it. We also need to do a little more research ourselves before we get back in there and do this.”

Sighing, you lift your head to look up at him. “We have to get rid of him. I know what he’s like - I know what Siobhan is going through. We have to help her, Joon.”

Your husband gives you his infamous sweet, dimpled smile.

“Everything’ll be okay, Y/n. We’ll help her and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.” Namjoon leans down to gently kiss you, reassurance and warmth spread through you at the softness of his lips. These moments with Namjoon almost make you feel like a normal couple living a normal life. Almost.

The doctor comes out of Jeongyeon’s room then and you pull away reluctantly.

“She’s still okay, right?” You ask as soon as she joins you in the hallway.

“She is. Her concussion isn’t too much of a concern, she just needs to take it easy. You can go in and see her if you want.” You return the doctor’s friendly smile and rush in, pulling Namjoon behind you.

“Jeongyeon!” She’s sitting up in bed, looking out the window. She looks tired, and you can see the bruising on her arm that’s not in a sling, but overall she still smiles at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. Sore, but that’s the worst of it.”

“Well, tomorrow we’ll make sure you’re comfortable at the hotel with everything you need before heading out.”

She shakes her head, immediately shutting that down. “No way. I’m coming with you.”

“But your arm is-”

“It’s just a sprain.”

“You shouldn’t move it much.”

“I won’t! Plus, I’m ambidextrous so I can do everything else as normal.”

Frowning, you place your hand over hers. “This could get dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

She flips her hand over to hold yours. “I knew what I was getting into when I took this job. Danger comes with the territory. I promise I’ll be fine and I can keep going.”

The two of you have a short staredown, your nervous expression meeting her reassuring one. Reluctantly, you agree with the rule that she works the camera and does not help with any of the equipment.

She agrees and it’s not long until she’s discharged and you’re able to go back to the hotel and regroup. You already know Namjoon wants to question you more about Asmodeus, but he’s kind enough to leave it be for now. You need the rest of the day to prepare for the next banishment attempt. With you being so familiar with this demon, it’s succeeded in rattling you in a way you’re not quite used to.

Min Yoongi is only two years older than Namjoon, but he’s still had much more experience. He was lucky enough to start studying demonology earlier in his life and was able to learn exorcisms much more quickly due to an uncle that happened to do the same line of work. He and Namjoon met online a handful of years ago and have met in person a few times. Usually, they just hang out for fun but this is the first time Yoongi will be helping you with a job.

“So you've banished him before?” Yoongi questions, sitting across from you at the kitchen table. He’s met you all at the Jacksons’ home in the morning. He’d done more research on Asmodeus as did Namjoon so they’d have more knowledge, but you’d had yet to give your full personal testimonial until now.

“Yeah. Long story short, we moved into a new house when I was fifteen. It’s actually in a town not too far from here. I knew something was weird about my room the day we moved in. I remember hearing voices and feeling a presence and it all traced back to that old mirror that was under a floorboard in my room. It wasn’t until my seventeenth birthday that Asmodeus revealed himself. He was in the form of my crush at the time and -”

“Who was it?”

Jungkook interrupts your story with the question.

“Who was what?”

“Who was your crush at the time?” Jeongyeon flicks him on the shoulder and he groans. “What?!”

“This is what you want to ask?”

“Just to help visualize it!”

“It was Omarion,” you roll your eyes at him as he and Mingyu snicker from next to him. “Anyway, he was nice to me just like Siobhan, then I turned eighteen and he told me wanted me to be his bride. I refused and so he started tormenting me. Destroying our house, scaring the shit out of us. He even killed our family dog and uh - he possessed me briefly.” You gulp at the memory. “The pain of having yourself violated in the form of possession is one I can’t describe. It’s cold, it hurts, and it feels so utterly lonely. Like you’re watching everything through your own eyes but you’re trapped in an empty room that feels so claustrophobic.”

“How old is he?” Mingyu questions.

“Thousands of years old,” Namjoon answers for you, noticing how retelling this story is making you uncomfortable. “According to what I’ve found on him, he’s been doing this for centuries even. He’s a demon of greed and lust and he preys on women hoping to take them from their bodies and take them with him for eternity. Think of it like he’s a screwed-up Hades and Persephone-like situation. He seems to get banished here and there and that mirror is definitely how he gets access to our world, but that’s as far as he gets banished to and it seems to only be temporary. The mirror itself just gets passed from thrift store to thrift store, getting picked up by unsuspecting people. Siobhan found it at a Goodwill a few years ago which is when this all started for her.”

“But we want to banish him for good this time,” You say matter-of-factly. “That’s where you come in, Yoongi. We need help with the spell since we need to do a different one to get rid of him for good. We want to send him away, but make sure he can’t pop up again. He’s one of the stronger forces we’ve dealt with and we need the manpower. We also need to narrow down the right crystals - stronger ones. Once he’s gone, we’ll take the mirror back to Korea with us and store it away so he can’t even come back if he wanted to.”

Yoongi takes off the backpack he’s wearing at your words and opens it, revealing a bunch of shimmering crystals.

“I brought some that I thought could come in handy. I was researching him yesterday and think these could do the trick.” You sort through the bag, recognizing the various crystals and nodding.

“Thank you! I think we could use most of these. He’s strong but he’s certainly not unbeatable.”

“When are you doing this?” Siobhan asks from the corner of the room. She and her parents have been here the whole time listening to you all go back and forth.

“Tonight. It’s best not to wait too long since we just had this run-in. We need to stay on top of him now that he’s shown himself. We’ll get him.”

It takes the rest of the day for everyone to prepare for the second banishment. Mingyu and Jungkook go over the spell over and over again for practice while you all prepare the basement. Asmodeus was able to leave Siobhan’s bedroom before, but if you trap him in the basement he can’t leave so easily.

You all work together to remove as much furniture from the room as you can so you don’t have any flying objects hurling at you again. With it being a bigger space, you need a few more cameras and Jeongyeon spreads the salt along the basement stairs and at the bottom to try and ensure he won’t be able to go anywhere. The basement is finished with an attached bathroom where Siobhan and Jeongyeon will take cover once Asmodeus shows himself again. The mirror sits in the middle of the room on the floor.

Wasting no time, you all get into position again, calling him out to him to show himself. He does it rather quickly but in the form of destruction.

“You can’t beat me!” Asmodeus bellow as all around the room, the ceiling and walls thump as if he’s zipping around the room punching every surface he comes in contact with. He’s going to show himself soon since he’s trapped.

“Asmodeus! Show yourself!” You scream at him, watching the ball of grey smoke bounce around the room before beelining for the mirror. Before it hits the mirror, the demon veers to the left at the last minute, knocking into Siobhan and sending her backward.

“Siobhan!” The girl flails around on the floor, gasping and scratching at the air.

“He’s possessing her! Someone put a salt circle around her now!” Yoongi directs, pointing at Siobhan’s figure. Jeongyeon acts first having been the last one with the salt and hurries to make a circle around the girl before she finally settles down, lying flat on her back for a brief moment. In the next blink, she shoots upright, head whipping around in your direction and hissing.

“Oh, fuck,” you catch Jungkook mumble from next to you.

“Recite the spell, now!” Yoongi calls, thumbing through his notebook.

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Mingyu surround Asmodeus, chanting in unison, crystals held out in front of them as they go.

Your feet are planted in front of the demon, watching as the gusts of wind enveloping you all turn grey and pick up faster. It doesn’t disturb the salt circle since it’s acting as an invisible wall, but you can see the demon getting increasingly agitated.

“Asmodeus! Leave this place and never return!” You bellow with as much bass as you can muster. You’re not nervous as before, only angry. Angry that you have to face this entity once more, but you will get rid of him for good.

The house shakes underneath your feet and Asmodeus roars at you, serpent tongue on full display, but you refuse to back down. He seems to sense your unwavering confidence as his eyes dart around the group. Siobhan’s shoulders slump before she starts to choke and gasp. Her eyes begin to bulge and her lips start to pale. He’s choking her from the inside out.

“No!” He’s going to kill her as he goes out - you can tell it just from the way her body is struggling for air. “Let her go!” Screeching at him, you step closer, holding out the palm-sized black jasper. Asmodeus hisses, Siobhan’s fist tightening, wheezing more.

He’s supposed to be getting weaker, not able to still have the strength to do this. Wracking your brain you try and think of something. All of the men in the room are still chanting at the demon, which is at least weakening him enough that he can’t break through the barrier, but you need to distract him. Take his attention off of hurting Siobhan long enough to allow the chance to finally send him away.

“Stop it and take me instead!” The words tumble out before you can think and it immediately catches the demon’s attention.

Blown-out pupils meet yours, studying you. “Just like that? You’re finally ready to be mine?” He asks through Siobhan’s choked tone.

You bite your tongue and nod, hoping you can convince him. Demons may be tricky, but in your line of work you’ve learned, they can be extremely gullible most of the time especially when you dangle something they want the most in front of them. Out of the corner of your eye, Namjoon stares, trying to get your attention. He’s steadfast in his words but you didn’t discuss this as a backup plan.

“Say it. Tell me you want to be my bride.”

Gripping your crystals so tight in your hand that it hurts, you mumble out the words he wants to hear. You need to let him start to possess you. That will be when the rest of his powers are the weakest and his guard will be down so he’ll finally banish away.

“Get rid of this salt circle then. And tell these idiots to stop babbling at me.”

“Do as he says!”

“But, Y/n-”

“Please, Mingyu just listen to him.” You stare at him, your eyes flickering to each one of them, Namjoon last. The only thing you can hope for is that he knows what your plan is. As soon as Asmodeus begins possessing you they need to start chanting again.

Your husband gives you a curt nod and tries to inconspicuously meet the gaze of the three other men to communicate with them as well.

On shaky legs you approach Asmodeus, the demon smirking sickly at you, waiting patiently to be released. You gingerly reach a foot out and swipe away a portion of the salt. As soon as it's gone, Siobhan’s hand comes out to grab your arm, dark eyes boring into yours.

Suddenly, her body starts to spasm, the hand gripping you tightening its hold. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her back arches almost painfully. She lets out a scream, making you wince at the frequency, and then as quickly as it happened, it’s over. Siobhan falls to the ground in front of you, knocked out cold.

“Siobhan!” Moving to kneel, you intend to check her pulse, but you’re stopped by another grasp of your arm. When you’ve spun around, you’re finally faced with Asmodeous’ true form once again.

He’s seemingly eight feet tall, covered in what you can only describe as jet-black scales, his bat-like wings looking far bigger than they had in his fake form. Large, pointed ears pivot in your direction along with blazing red eyes and menacing teeth. The demon’s face can only be described as resembling a storybook goblin, complete with a long nose and wrinkly features. His black, spiraled horns look sharp enough to cut you as do his long, spindly fingers and pointy claws. Seeing him in front of you brings you back to the night in your room when you banished him all alone. You had nearly been in tears and ready to piss yourself, but this time, you feel a confidence you lacked then.

“Hello, my dear.” His claws trace down your arm and you have to hold your breath. “Don’t look so upset. You’re going to love it with me. Much more than with him.” Asmodeus sneers over your shoulder at Namjoon and you don’t have to see your husband’s face to know it is sure to be filled with fury.

His hands are as cold as ice and he brings both hands up to cup your face. You keep your hands at your side, fists clenched. The demon gives you one more grin as he begins. Pins and needles shoot through you in an instant, making you scream. Your eyelids flutter, but you fight to keep them open. Asmodeus’ crimson eyes almost hurt to look at as they glow as your limbs start to feel heavy.

Namjoon’s voice booms nearby, starting to recite the banishment spell. The others follow suit, their voices sounding much louder than before. The demon in front of you pulls away from you momentarily, yelling loud enough that your ears begin ringing. He closes his eyes for a split second, but it’s enough time that you can break out of the trance he attempted to put you under. Swiftly, you reach up, wrapping your arms around the demon to keep him in place. You press the black jasper into his back, making him screech again and tumble backward with you still wrapped around him.

Namjoon is at your side in a flash, followed closely by Jungkook and they work to hold him down as they speak. Mingyu and Yoongi follow, holding down the rest of him.

The demon flails underneath you all but isn’t getting away which means he’s much weaker than before. The grey, smokey wind that he emits fills the room again, whipping faster and faster. Asmodeus growls and the house shakes again. In the corner of the room, it sounds like the walls are cracking, but none of you relent.

“Asmodeus!” You yell, right in his face. “Leave this place! Forever!” You shove the black jasper into his stomach and he shrieks again. You watch as the demon underneath you begins turning into the same grey smoke that circles your head. Hist legs are first followed by the arm currently in Jungkook’s grasp.

“You lying bitch!” The demon spits at you, rage that you’ve never seen written across his ugly face. He’s only an arm, a head, and a torso at this point, and right before he starts to lose his last remaining limb, he uses the remainder of his strength to bring his hands up, claws spread out, ready to inflict damage.

You notice too late, and can only watch as he swings his hand at you.

Before he makes contact with you, Namjoon is in front of you, shielding your body from the attack and you can only watch in horror as the demon’s razer-like claws slash across Namjoon’s chest. Blood splatters out, spraying the demon right before he vanishes completely, a final shriek ringing in the air as he turns to complete smoke, which then wafts up into the air and evaporates.

The room is silent for only a second, giving you long enough to register what just happened.

“Namjoon!” The scream that leaves your lips sounds almost foreign as you scramble to your husband’s side. You roll him over, watching the blood seep from the deep slashes in his skin. He doesn’t move and his eyes don’t open but you can see his injured chest rise and fall, albeit slowly. Yanking off your sweatshirt, you press it to his wounds, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Around you, everyone is rushing. You think you hear Jungkook’s voice talking into his phone, telling whoever is on the other line the address for the Jackson’s house. Yoongi and Mingyu get to work cleansing the room and Jeongyeon gingerly wraps up the mirror, securing it in a small locked box. Tears blur your vision as you whimper his name, begging him to wake up.

Everything is white noise to you - Namjoon is your only focus. Making sure he’s okay, checking his pulse. The ambulance arrives after what feels like hours and moves you away to take him. You follow close behind, waving in Jeongyeon’s direction when she says they’ll be right behind you and the ambulance. You don’t take any notice of the way you’re shivering in your tank top as the October air fills the back of the ambulance. You’ll brave the cold to be by Namjoon’s side.

Being in another hospital room in the same week is a record for you. Namjoon is still asleep and has been since he was attacked. The steady beep of the lifeline machine has lulled you to sleep the past two nights you spent curled up in the uncomfortable recliner by his side. Everyone has been by since he’s been admitted. Jeongyeon insisted on staying with you but you sent her back to the hotel to rest.

It’s early when you check the bedside clock, getting up from your curled position to stretch. Namjoon is still asleep when you look at him, his breathing even and quiet.

You quickly duck into the bathroom in the room to brush your teeth and wash your face. Namjoon should be waking up any time now and even after all these years, you want to look good for him.

“Hi, Y/n.” Siobhan’s voice startles you when you leave the bathroom. She, along with her parents and their other two children are all standing in the doorway of the room.

“Oh hi, how are you doing?”

“Much better. Last night was the most restful sleep we’ve had in months.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Siobhan surprises you by rushing over and pulling you into a hug. Her siblings follow suit and hug you as well. They’re all thanking you and all you can do is say you’re welcome. Her parents hug you next, giving you more thank yous and telling you how grateful they are.

They stay with you for a few minutes to talk about Namjoon and how he’s doing. He’s still asleep as you gaze at him, taking in his beautiful features, feeling the lurch in your heart when you think of the way he smiles at you and how he says your name.

As if noticing the shift in your mood upon talking about your husband, Mona announces it’s time to leave and they all say their goodbyes. You walk them to the door and before they leave, Siobhan turns to you once more and grabs your hand.

“Seriously, thank you again.” She says it quieter and you can hear the sincerity in her words. You squeeze her hand in return and watch as the family leaves.

After they’re gone, it’s quiet again and you feel yourself starting to feel a new sadness wash over you - the sorrow of missing and worrying for Namjoon, but that’s cut short upon arrival when you turn around.

Namjoon is struggling to sit up in bed, wincing to himself.

“Joon!” You rush over to the bed, holding a pillow behind him as he leans up, settling back.

“Hey.” Tears well as you grab his hand, bringing it up to your lips.

“You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” he rasps. His voice sounds hoarse, so you hurry to grab the water pitcher next to the bed and pour him a cup. After you hold it to help him drink, you set the cup down and go back to holding his hand. “Was someone just here? When I was starting to come to I thought I heard other voices.”

“The Jacksons just left. They stopped by to thank us and see how you were doing. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted. I’m ready to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

“Not so fast. You’ve been asleep for two days straight and your whole torso is wrapped in bandages. He didn’t do any fatal damage, but you lost a lot of blood.” A sniffle slips out and Namjoon notices.

“Hey, hey I’m okay though. The demon’s gone and I’m alive and you’re safe.” Even in a hospital bed with an injury of his caliber, he’s still your strong, level-headed, loving husband. As carefully as you can, you lean over the bed to kiss him. “Wait, wait, I have crusty unconscious breath!” He tries to turn his head away with minimal effort.

“Don’t care.” You murmur as your lips meet in a long, closed-mouth kiss. His lips are just as pillowy and comforting as always.

When you pull away, the two of you share a sigh.

“I’ll go let the doctors know you’re up. They’ll want to check on you and I’m sure they’ll know when we can go home.” Reluctantly, you let his hand go and head to the door.

“Hey, Y/n,” you stop when Namjoon calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“I think when we get home it’s about time we go on vacation. I think I need some time in the sun, on a beach somewhere. Far away from anything demon related.”

With a smile, you nod. “Sounds like a plan.” Your husband blows you a tired kiss on your way out and it makes your heart soar as usual.

You hum to yourself as you leave the room, heart, full of ease and love. You all haven’t taken a vacation in probably a year, so it’s something that is desperately needed.

While waiting for a nurse to return to the nurses' station, your phone beeps with an email notification.

EXORCIST INQUIRY!!

The words are in all caps and even read loudly to your eyes. With a sigh, you open the email and skim it. Your team is needed as soon as possible in California to help a woman’s son who, as she described, is behaving “just like Regan from The Exorcist!!”

You mull over the next steps before typing out a response to the woman, informing her that you had an emergency in New York, but will attempt to get to them soon. You let her know that you’ll know for sure by end of the day and will give her more information.

Jeongyeon also receives your emails and you already know she’s going to text you soon about how you should be resting with Namjoon, but you’re prepared for her nagging. Namjoon will be disappointed that a seaside vacation will need to take a backseat for now.

As long as demons and ghosts still break through to our world, the work of a paranormal investigator is truly never done.

#namjoon fic #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #namjoon thriller #rm fic #rm fanfic #houseofddaeng #52hertz #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #btscarnivalnet

[ggukcangetit]

cruel summer | ksj x reader [M]

➹ title: cruel summer

➹ pairing: seokjin x reader

➹ genre: smut, established relationship

➹ summary: 

...it's new, the shape of your body...It's blue... 

the feeling I've got...and it's ooh, whoa, oh...It's a cruel summer

a guide to having sex with your utterly gorgeous boyfriend while navigating a few snags in the process where one of snags happens to be your gorgeous boyfriend

➹ rating: 18+

➹ WC: 2930

➹ warnings: minor communication issues, kissing, fondling, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, explicit sex, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, semi-public sex, dirty talk (?), reader is horny af, meeting the family (because when is that ever fun).

➹ a/n: a slight sequel to Counterfeit Culture partially inspired by Seokjin stripping for us on insta, and partially inspired by my re-reading of Pride and Prejudice. lol. 

➹ rec music: yes, please definitely listen to miss swift’s Cruel Summer while reading this. it enhances stuff 👀  

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when someone, already disposed to being impatient, is not getting what they want, becomes even more impatient and frustrated. And if the thing that they want happens to be sex with their extremely handsome boyfriend, well… the math becomes quite clear.

Never in your life had you imagined yourself in this present situation. 

It had been a few months since the day you had rushed over to Seokjin’s house in the middle of the night, poured your heart out to him, and then proceeded to have truly incredible sex. 

The two of you had begun dating almost immediately, although it wasn’t something that either of you had been very willing to disclose to your mutual friends. Suffice to say, almost everyone was unsurprised, and you had to bear the teasing for a few weeks before it became normal that Seokjin was your boyfriend.

But back to your present dilemma. 

Hoseok and Jieun were getting married next month. Apparently, once someone from a group of friends got married, it didn’t take long for the others to follow. This would be the third wedding you’d be attending in the last year or so. And while you were incredibly happy for your best friend and the love of her life, wedding preparations came with certain obligations. Especially if one happened to be the maid of honor, as well as the best man’s new girlfriend. 

Flower arrangements aside, there was also the issue of meeting Seokjin’s family for the first time. Since the Kims and the Jungs were close family friends, it was inevitable that you’d have to cross paths with your boyfriend’s very rich, very aristocratic, very imposing family. 

So that’s why you were currently at Seokjin’s grandmother’s summer house. Though it could in no sense be called a house by normal standards. 

It was a mansion at the least, or if you allowed your mind to wander, a castle. 

Seokjin’s grandmother happened to be a very intelligent, reserved, and observant woman. You could see that her grandson had taken after her. 

But despite all your reservations, she had been very welcoming of you. Her words were laced with a softness that you didn’t find in most of her interactions with people outside of her immediate family.

Speaking of immediate family, this was also the first time you were meeting Seokjin’s younger brother. 

Kim Taehyung was unlike anyone you had met before. Like his brother, he was devastatingly handsome but instead of being reserved and unapproachable, he carried himself with an air of playfulness, easy flirtations oozing out of his entire being. 

“Lovely to finally meet you, y/n,” he had said after giving you a hug. “I was beginning to think my brother would die a lonely, old virgin.”

Seokjin had coughed violently at these words, spilling some of his water in the process.

And there lay the crux of your dilemma. 

Despite being in a happy new relationship, you hadn’t been getting any. There had been plenty of dates, and outings, and dinners at his place, and dinners at your place. But it never amounted to anything more than a heavy makeout session.

It was annoying to feel like a horny teenager because you had never really been one as a teenager. When people had been sneaking off to movies or the backseats of cars, you had been studying for exams or trying to figure when the next volume of Maid Sama would be out. 

Now that you had every reason (and desire) to indulge in some between the sheets action - and an abundance of private spaces to engage in the activity - the only obstacle seemed to be your boyfriend’s reticence. 

You had consoled yourself with the fact that he was very reserved and shy, and things would probably take more time for him. 

But things had come to head, quite literally, during a lunch at the summer house.

It was you, Jieun, Hoseok, Hoseok’s sister and her husband, Seokjin, Taehyung, their grandmother, and a couple of aunts seated at the large dining table. Everything was moving pleasantly and you might not have really noticed anyone or anything if Taehyung hadn’t accidentally knocked over a glass of wine on his brother’s gray shirt. 

“It’s fine,” Seokjin assured everyone, dabbing himself with a napkin. “I’ll just soak it in a bit of water for now. Be back in a bit.”

A couple of minutes after Seokjin had left for the bathroom, you noticed Taehyung biting his nails nervously. 

Feeling bad for the younger boy, you decided to check in on Seokjin, in case he needed some help.

What you weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to be standing in the middle of the large bathroom, clad in only his khaki slacks while washing the stained shirt in the sink.

He looked sinful - every ridge and muscle of his torso visible, as your eyes raked over his body. 

You walked over, coming to a halt right in front of him. His eyes went wide, unsure of what you were going to say. Because even after 4 months of dating, he didn’t know how much you wanted him. 

You placed your hands on his chest, keeping your gaze locked with his. The tips of his ears had turned pink, and you knew that he was this close to asking you to stop.

But not today.

“Why aren’t you wearing your shirt?” you asked, your voice much lower than usual.

Seokjin looked bewildered for a moment. You had seen everything that had happened in the dining room. “Y/n, you saw-”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” you continued, paying him now heed. You stroked his cheek with your finger, lazily dragging it along the column of his neck. “To have your way with me?”

Seokjin shivered at the movement. “N-no, I-”

“You didn’t need to try,” you said, moving closer so that your face was a hair’s breadth from his. “I’m yours. I’m ready. I want you.”

You could see his eyes darken at your words but something was still stopping him. 

You leaned your face against his so that your lips missed his by mere centimeters. “Jin, please.”

The nickname combined with the desperation in your voice was what finally broke him. 

He crashed his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily and without patience. His touches were rough and you relished in the frenzy of the moment. A swipe of his tongue against your mouth was enough for you to let him in, a small moan escaping you as you felt his hands underneath your blouse. 

“I- ugh… I want-” you gasped in between the kisses, not wanting to stop but also wanting more. 

Seokjin broke away for a moment, gazing at you with eyes filled with lust, hunger, and something almost too tender to focus on. “Yeah? What do you want, darling?”

You hated that term of endearment because it always made you clench your thighs but rarely did it lead to a pleasurable end. 

Maybe it would be different this time.

“I want to suck you off.”

Seokjin flushed at those words. This was where his shyness really made its presence felt. “W-what?”

You took a step back from him, placing a hand on the button of his slacks. “You heard me. I want to suck your cock. I want to see how you feel when I use my tongue. I want to make you feel good.”

Still looking slightly flustered, Seokjin nodded his head, unbuttoning his slacks and shimmying out of them. 

You palmed him first, relishing in the sharp gasp he let out at your touches. He was big, and while you knew this for a fact, it had been a while since you had actually been this intimate with him. 

“How does that feel?” you asked, looking up to see the redness seeping down from his ears to his neck.

“So good,” he barely managed to get out. “You don’t have to-”

You stopped him mid sentence by pulling on the band of his underwear, letting his cock spring out. 

“Tell me if this feels okay,” you said, licking a strip down his member. 

“Ugh, y/n, I-” His voice sounded strained, like he was holding himself back. 

“How about this?” You licked the tip of his cock, laving your tongue around the pre-cum that had started leaking from it.

All he could do was make a few strangled noises at this point, and you took it as your cue to continue your work. 

Not someone who had ever enjoyed the prospect of performing oral sex on another person, it was surprising how eager you were to take Seokjin’s length into your mouth. 

His noises of pleasure were more than enough to start the ache in your pussy, and you continued sucking him until he put a hand on your shoulder to stop. 

“I don’t want to cum in your mouth,” he said, breathlessly. “Not just yet.”

You stood up, wiping the saliva from your mouth. “What do you want then?”

“I want to return the favor.”

He stepped forward, eyes full of determination, pointing at your skirt. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. Although you were more than willing to have him eat you out. “You don’t have to do it today.”

“I want to.”

You gulped. He looked so hot, standing there in all his naked glory - your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin. 

“Then I have a request.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Leave the bathroom door unlocked.”

His gaze darkened, quickly undoing the simple lock on the door. Moving back towards you, he noticed that you were preparing to hoist yourself up on the counter. 

“No,” he said, guiding you with his strong arms. “Stand opposite the mirror. I want you to look at yourself while I give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shivered at his suggestion, feeling the wetness grow between your thighs. This was new. Neither of you were very public or open about your affection. But this change was exciting. 

“I-” your words were swallowed up by the gasp elicited from Seokjin’s feather light kiss between your thighs. 

Looking down, you realized that he was on his knees, making his way through the thin layer of your panties that separated your core from his sinful lips. 

“Don’t look down,” he instructed, tone firm and commanding. The hesitation from when you had entered the bathroom was long gone. 

You did as he said, trying to keep your gaze trained on your image in the large ornate mirror. The classic, pristine decor of the bathroom seemed tainted by what the two of you were doing. 

“Oh…” you moaned, closing your eyes as you felt Seokjin’s tongue lick a slow stripe between your folds. 

He was taking his time, keeping your panties pulled aside with his finger and giving himself as much access as he needed. His tongue was doing some of its best work, deliberate strokes and unpredictable patterns assaulting your pussy until you were struggling to stand upright. 

“This needs to go,” Seokjin ordered, pulling your skirt down with one fluid motion.

You made the mistake of opening your eyes just as he returned to his place between your thighs. The sight of him giving you head in the mirror almost felt like an out of body experience. 

“How is it?” asked Seokjin, his voice slightly muffled from where he was below you.

“I-” you were having trouble forming coherent thoughts at this point.

“Tell me,” he continued, kissing your clit softly. “What do you need, darling?”

It was that damn term of endearment that ended up being your undoing. Just seven letters, and he somehow managed to encapsulate his love, his attentiveness, his smoothness, and his desire for you in one breath. 

“I need you, Jin.” Your voice came out huskier than you had ever heard it before.

“You have me, my darling,” he reassured you, sucking your clit before inserting a long, elegant finger into your cunt. 

“Jin!” you gasped, grabbing a fistful of his gorgeous hair. “I’m close…”

He inserted a second finger inside you, curling them ever so slightly as he felt you arch into his hand. 

“Almost there, darling,” he continued. “I want you to look at yourself in the mirror. Especially at this point.”

You did as he said, not really being able to think of much else on your own. 

It was a sinful image. 

You stood in the middle of the white and gold bathroom, practically naked, as you fucked yourself against your boyfriend’s fingers, with the very real prospect of someone walking in on you due to the previously unlocked door. 

It was sinful enough to send you over the edge. 

Your body shuddered violently as the orgasm made its way through you. Seokjin held your legs steady from his place between your thighs. It was a pleasure unlike any you had experienced before, and you sank to the ground, slowly, as your core throbbed traitorously. 

Seokjin sat in front of you, his expression a mix of adoration and smugness as he noted the effects of your orgasm. 

His cock was rock hard and looked painfully red. You realized that he hadn’t allowed himself to finish. You knew he wouldn’t approach you to help him reach his climax, not when he could see how spent you were from what he had just done to you. But you also knew that you weren’t going to leave this bathroom until your boyfriend had put his cock inside you and fucked you till you couldn’t remember your own name.

“We’re not done yet.” You stood up, ridding yourself of your blouse and bra, before taking your original place on the counter.

“Y/n, you don’t have to-”

The hesitance was back and it made you scoff in annoyance. Spreading your legs and rubbing some of the slick between your folds, you cocked an eyebrow and gave him a challenging look.

“I want my boyfriend to fuck me,” you said, keeping your gaze locked with his, “in the unlocked bathroom of his family’s summer house, where anyone could walk in at any moment.”

“You know I could never say no to that,” he groaned, walking towards you. He angled his cock against your core and slowly entered you. “And who do you think will walk in?”

You had missed the feel of him inside you. He filled you up so well. Like puzzle pieces that actually fit.

“Ahh,” you moaned, placing a hand on his shoulder as he thrust into you again. “Anyone could.”

“Let me rephrase that,” he said, voice strained as he increased the pace of his thrusts. “Who do you want to walk in?”

The question was so scandalous that you couldn’t help the gush of wetness that followed.

“They’d walk in and see us,” he continued, building the filthy fantasy. “Fucking on the bathroom counter.” He was getting closer and you could hear it in the way he was grinding out each word. “They’d see my cock inside you - see me pounding into your pretty pussy. Would you like that?”

The thrusts were strong and sloppy at this point. You were barely managing to hold on.

“Tell me, darling.” He was punctuating each word with a thrust. Finally, he managed to hit the spot that caused you to unfurl in a fit of pleasure. “Would you like that?”  

“Yes! Oh my god! JIN!” you screamed into his shoulder, hoping that would muffle the sound even a little bit. 

“Perfect,” he managed to say, before pulling out and cuming on the fluffy bath mat on the floor. 

It took a few minutes before you were both clean, dressed, and presentable enough to leave the bathroom. 

You looked at Seokjin as he tucked his shirt into his pants. That offending piece of clothing had been the start of this entire escapade. 

Feeling a strange rush of emotion, you pulled him into a deep kiss. His hands found their way to your waist, and you couldn’t help the groan of satisfaction as you continued kissing his beautifully plump lips. 

“I- uh,” he began, once you had untangled yourselves from each other. “I hope this wasn’t too much. I know you said-”

You kissed him again before he could complete his sentence. “You are an idiot if you don’t know how much I want you.”

“Really?” He smiled that rare smile. The one that wasn’t reserved for board meetings, or family members, or friend groups. It was your favorite smile. It was when he allowed himself to be at his most vulnerable. When he allowed himself to be happy.  

“I have been prepared to jump your bones at so many inappropriate moments and locations,” you giggled. “Don’t ever hesitate because you think this might be too fast for me.”

Seokjin let out an amused chuckle. “Okay then, I won’t hold back.”

“I look forward to it,” you replied, kissing him once more for good measure.  

“I’ll head out first and you can follow after a few seconds,” Seokjin said, gazing at you with a delightfully hazy expression. The kiss had been effective.

Thankfully, the coast was clear and the two of you walked out onto the patio in relief. 

Not long after, Taehyung walked over to you where you were both standing. He had a glass of champagne in one hand, his dark curls swaying lazily with each step. 

“Please use the bathroom attached to your room next time,” he said, not stopping to spare either of you a glance. 

 there we go! please lemme know if you enjoyed this and i will link the original (Counterfeit Culture) on this post later. or you could look for it on my masterlist lol.

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #btswritingcafe #btscarnivalnet #bangtansorciere #clubzerooclock #hyunglinenetwork #btshoneyhive #btsghostie #btsgoldnet #bangtanbathhouse #bts smut

[randombtsprincessa]

Bewitched Fools || 02

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Words: 5.2k

Genre: Arranged Marriage AU! Pride & Prejudice AU! Angst, Smut, Fluff

Rating: Mature

Playlist - moplush - We In The Dark (ft. svtxri & subvanity)

Chapters: 01 

Heavy sets of metal weights clanged behind you, your hands undoing the protective wraps from around your knuckles and grabbing your water bottle as Jisoo came to join you, her pretty face red and panting.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t trained since…”

“My wedding,” You guzzled water sloppily, leaving your best friend to shrug at your words.

“That’s only been like…a few weeks? I should not be this useless. How did your set go?”

You removed the sipper from your mouth, thinking back to the reps you’d tried to do today. It had been simple; cardio, core and basic weights to get the juices flowing back again. You’d sweated through the inclined run before a trainer had gently but firmly told you to tone it down.

You could feel it in your thighs now, but…

“It was ok. Not horrible, could be better…you know how it is.”

She clicked her tongue at you.

“Are you going to swing by my place? My parents have kinda been bugging me about seeing us together.”

You hummed, both of you swinging your gym bags up on your shoulders to exit the sleek glass and metal walls.

Going to see Jisoo’s family was a tempting offer - definitely a sight more tempting than visiting your own folks.

Jisoo’s parents were laid back, down to earth and cheerful people who you would’ve dearly loved to exchange your own…ok, your mom, for. You were pretty sure you might have drunkenly begged Jisoo to adopt you once in college.

There were no strict expectations, no restrictions, no pressure to stay amid the high society, literally…none of the tight leash atmosphere you had grown up in.

Jisoo had been free to pick her major, her career, her boyfriends were met with open wariness instead of suspicion and hostility and best of all; Jisoo’s marriage was her own business.

And despite the maneuvers of your mother to find you a groom as soon as Yongsun was settled, you were proud to say that Jisoo married her long term boyfriend first. You had two different points of view on marriage now as you dealt with your relationship drama.

And though you loved your sister and brother-in-law, you’d pick Jisoo’s experience.

Of course, all of that fell flat on its face of course, because your wedding and subsequent marriage was way out of the leagues of Yongsun and Jisoo. You had deliberately and knowingly picked your marriage, and well…you were going to lie on that bed for all to see now.

So much for role models.

“I don’t think I’ll come by today, Soo. I’m not up for putting on the act at the moment.” You said, raising your water bottle for another swig.

To her credit, Jisoo nodded in understanding. “I feel you. How has it been? We haven’t gotten a chance to properly talk over the phone.”

You snapped the sipper into the bottle cap, considering your answer carefully. The few days after your wedding and into your marriage were in no way easy to condense in an answer. You would either worry your best friend, or send her into an overdrive. And you had no energy to deal with either.

“It’s fine, I guess.” You mumbled, before turning to her. “What about you? I haven’t heard anything about you.”

Jisoo shot you a look, but conceded to telling you about her husband, Taeyang regardless as you walked to your respective cars.

Just as you got into your new Audi, a wedding gift from your new husband, Jisoo leaned in through the window. “You know that’s not always going to work, right?”

You stashed your things into the passenger seat, giving her a confused look. “What’s not going to work?”

“The evasiveness; Taeyang isn’t always going to have something new worth talking about.” She rolled her eyes but you spied a touch of resigned fondness in them.

“I’m not being evasive.” You leaned against the steering and started the car. “I just really have nothing to report. Nothing from my parents, Yongsun or even…” You didn’t say Namjoon’s name. It still felt odd to refer to him by his name and not just Mr. Kim.

“Right,” Jisoo patted the top of the car. “Get home then, we still have classes to look forward to. Nice car, by the way.” She blew you a kiss before walking away to her own car.

You waited for her to pull out of the parking first, the car idling until you followed.

The Audi swept out of the gym elegantly, your fingers nervously tight on the wheel. You wouldn’t say you were uncomfortable with the idea of the fancy car (you were a little surprised by the gift) but you were definitely very aware of the attention it brought you now.

The car had been waiting in the parking lot of your new home the day you were to visit your parents, the raised eyebrows of your mother and her smug sudden calls to the neighbors unmissed by you and your father.

You turned a street, sighing as you thought back to your wedding night.

You sat on the sofa a long while, just eyeing the door that had shut your brand new husband in. Just the thought of calling the man your husband was enough to race a shudder down your spine.

You were sure you would always retain some shock over his position in your life. Would he feel the same? He hadn’t even said anything to you through your wedding. And this interaction could hardly be called that.

You glanced at the blackened TV screen, deciding against turning it on. Clearing the coffee table, you ambled back to the master bedroom, the bed too big for you. You jumped on it regardless, starfishing yourself along the corners of the bed and staring at the ceiling.

Married, you are a married woman now. And not just any married woman…you were Mrs. Kim Namjoon now. You were married to one of the richest and most powerful men in the city, perhaps even the country. You were supposed to know the man, like even if not love. Yet, you hadn’t spoken to him even five times.

It made no sense.

You closed your eyes.

The parking valet nodded cheerfully when you entered the building, allowing you to exit the car with your gym bag and bottle before driving it down to the lot. You paused at the entry, looking up the imposing building.

The sleek limo stopped in front of the towering building. You glanced up from your phone, first at the concrete structure and then at your new husband. Kim Namjoon removed his own gaze from the digital diary he held to the building before reaching towards the talk button on his side.

“Just here’s fine, Sungjin. We’ll head in from here.”

You watched Namjoon pocket the device and step out of the limo. You waited a second before reaching for the door handle yourself, the driver - Sungjin already at your side. You gave him a smile for his help, following Namjoon into the place.

He stood at the concierge’s desk, already speaking to the man who nodded along before giving you a polite smile. “Welcome, Mrs. Kim, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”

He didn’t emphasize where ‘here’ exactly was supposed to be but you smiled back nonetheless.

Namjoon muttered something else to the man before walking over to you. “Right,” He said, one of the first words he’d spoken to you since your wedding. “You’ll want to go upstairs now. Get settled in. The concierge has your key to the elevator. He’ll explain how it works. I’ll see you later.” He began to turn around.

“You’re not coming with me?” You blurted out.

Even as Namjoon paused, looking back at you, you had mentally smacked yourself. What did it matter if he was going to come upstairs with you or not? You had no acquaintance with the man whatsoever. It was silly to rely on a near stranger for any support.

“No.” He said at length. “I have some work to do at the office. I missed some days due to the wedding preparations. I’ll see you later.” He tilted his head, missing your eyes and marched away through the open doors the doorman held ready.

You stared after him, wondering what role he had played in the wedding prep at all.

“Ma’am, shall we?”

You nodded absently at the concierge, following him to another hallway and riding the elevator up. At the top, he pressed the key in your hand. “I hope you have a pleasant day, Ma’am.”

The glass and steel doors opened to reveal gleaming white marble and dark walls. You took a step forward, hearing the elevator go back down, carrying the concierge back down as you stood there listlessly with a large key hanging from your hands.

“Good morning Mrs. Kim.” The voice made your head turn to the tall windows. A prim woman stood near the sitting area, her hands clasped to her front. Her neat skirt coat told you absolutely nothing about her but you definitely knew that this couldn’t possibly be Namjoon’s mother.

“Um, hello.” You said.

“I am Jung Ida; Mr. Kim’s housekeeper. He let me know that you will be arriving and that I was to welcome you, show you your new home and to help you become comfortable.” She didn’t smile, but there didn’t seem to be any hostility in her eyes. At the very least, they didn’t hold any confused judgment. If she wondered what Kim Namjoon saw in you, she hid it well.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t know there was going to be someone waiting for me. You don’t have to worry about getting me settled.”

Her lips twitched.

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Kim. Please, follow me and I will show you the penthouse.”

Ms. Jung talked as she showed you around. The living room, dining, kitchen were huge and modern, with gleaming amenities. There was an emergency staircase leading downstairs incase of a fire and a huge spiral led up to the second floor.

“This door here leads to Mr. Kim’s study. It also leads to the bar but you can access it from the staircase room.” She said, showing you a set of double doors near the dining room. You tried not to stare at the fact that Namjoon’s ‘study’ took up almost half of the place.

“And on this side,” Ms. Jung led you over to the other half. “The staff quarters are here. Well, it’s just my room when Mr. Kim needs me to stay overnight. The night staff usually leaves around midnight. The day staff arrives by seven in the morning or whenever they are called. In the mornings, I arrive by ten.”

She turned down a short hallway and stopped before another set of doors.

“This is your study, ma’am.” She slid the panel doors to reveal a much brighter room than Namjoon’s ‘side’. The walls were lined with multiple shelves, soft rugs lay on the floor and there was a verandah attached just like his.

“I - I, isn’t this a bit too much?” You whispered nervously while Ms. Jung walked in.

“Mr. Kim mentioned that you are still studying. This is his way of ensuring you have full privacy and your own space.” She replied, indicating a door behind the desk. “This is your powder room.”

If you thought the first floor was sprawling, the second floor was even more so. Decked with a gym and gaming room, something that closely looked like a spa and an indoor pool, the upper level was mostly bedrooms.

It was still hard to wrap your head around the fact that your new home resembled something out of a magazine. But it had been remarkably easy to settle in and start calling the penthouse ‘home.’ Though the key to your small flat still remained on your keyset, it was becoming more and more a memory.

You had first and foremost tried to become friends with each and every staff member who crossed the threshold of the elevator, Ida doing her best to act as a support system for you.

You weren’t altogether without solidarity.

The thought braced you as you drew yourself to the present, heading upstairs.

A shower later, you rubbed a towel into your scalp, heading towards the laundry room to dry it when you caught Namjoon’s bedroom doors open. You stopped immediately, hearing movement inside. Would it be okay to go in? Sure, you’d gone into the Master Bedroom - occupied by Namjoon obviously - alone many times. You had had nothing better to do but roam about the vast space and you had become curious.

You wondered if Namjoon had any idea that you’d openly pranced about his room, gaped at the sheer size of the master closet and sniffed at his collection of cologne.

You weren’t sure if you would be very welcoming of the idea of him doing the same to you but then, he was never home when you weren’t there.

You glanced back to the room beside his, the one you slept in, considering letting him leave before you reappeared. You looked back at his open door, then at yours before tossing caution to the wind and knocking on the door.

“Uh, Namjoon?” You winced at how odd his name sounded coming from you.

There was a pause before he replied, his deep voice cool and much more composed than you felt at that moment.

“In here.”

You wrung the towel in your hands, before tossing it into your room. You could dry it later. Taking a breath, you entered the room and then the closet - with him inside of it.

Namjoon stood in front of his mirror, shirt and trousers on. His hands were busy working a tie around his neck, measuring the lengths.

“Hi,” You said nervously, standing in the doorway of the closet, not sure if you wanted to broach the space he occupied.

“Good morning,” He glanced at you, taking in your wet hair. “Back from the gym, I see. How was it?”

You didn’t answer immediately, watching him put some dress socks on. You had no idea why you found him dressing for work so fascinating. You could chalk it up to having never seen the process before but there was something so engrossing about watching him walk around and pick up things he’d wear the whole day.

“It went well.” You answered finally, absently but it already seemed like Namjoon had moved on from the topic.

You picked up the suit jacket that he had put out while he tied his shoes, hesitantly moving over to him when he stood up. He looked from the jacket to you, an eyebrow flicking upwards. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, quietly turning around for you.

You opened the jacket, sliding it over his arms, one by one and then brushing the shoulders - ignoring that you were touching your husband’s shoulders indirectly.

Neither of you commented on it as he turned around again.

“I’m not as fit as I used to be, you could say.” You said, reaching up to his tie. You pull the halves till they lay perfectly aligned with Namjoon’s adams apple. You loosened the top a little, buttoning the top button of his shirt to hide the triangle of skin there. “My trainer had to actually tell me to lighten up on the load I was doing. Even Soo - Jisoo - was struggling. But I think, once I start going to the university properly again, I can get a better routine.”

You looked up at him, his eyes hovering somewhere over your shoulder. “How’s work for you?”

Namjoon glanced back at you, his eyes mildly suspicious. “It is fine. How are your studies?”

“It is fine.” You returned.

Your husband nodded, moving away from you to exit the closet. You followed him down to the Main floor. Ida already stood by the elevator, his work bag and coat in her hands.

“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” You asked, already knowing the answer but asking nonetheless. You had no idea where the urge to interact with him had suddenly come from but you couldn’t seem to stop it.

Ida and Namjoon both looked back at you in surprise but he was quick to neutralize his face.

“I’ll get something at work.” He looked away quickly, throwing his coat over his arm as the elevator opened.

You sighed about to walk back up the stairs when you saw him stop the elevator doors from closing fully.

“You must be tired from the workout. Ida, please see to it that Y/N has a filling breakfast.”

“Of course, Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you.”

Namjoon didn’t wait for you to respond, removing his hand and letting the elevator engulf him to be taken to work.

You tapped your pen against the edge of your lip, eyes fixed outside the balcony doors. The bustle of the city didn’t reach you at this height and sometimes you felt that it got too quiet. You could hear the staff moving about outside, clangs in the kitchen and the whirr of cleaning going on in the rest of the house but it just wasn’t the same.

Sometimes you just enjoy the feeling of distraction from the traffic and people outside. Or maybe you were just bored from the hours of study.

You had spent the breakfast hour cursing yourself for your weirdly needy behavior with Namjoon before. Ida had placed a plate of your favorite savories in front of you, patting your hand comfortingly before she retired to have her own breakfast. You sat alone at the kitchen island before deciding to hide in your study.

You had picked up your work and books, losing track of time for a good bit until you started to drift in your thoughts again - your studies no longer enticing enough.

You huffed, pushing your chair away from the desk and stretching your arms up above your head. The weird groan you let out from the movement echoed around you and you slumped back, wondering what to do.

The clock told you that it was almost time for lunch and you could really not sit here for that as well.

You need to move. To breathe in some city air.

Plucking your phone from the charging docket, you called your sister.

Yongsun was already at your usual seat when you entered. She beamed at you from where she sat by the window, waving her arm up to greet you.

“Hey!” You grinned, about to lean over for a hug when you noticed that the chair to her front was already occupied.

Annoyance flared up at once when Jinhyo smiled up at you, the picture of sugared innocence. God, what did you have to do to get a peaceful afternoon with your sister? But then, Jinhyo was your sister’s in-law and you supposed, she had no choice.

“Jinhyo,” You greeted her lightly, taking the empty seat next to Yongsun.  

“It is so amazing to see you again, Y/N. How is married life suiting you? Your parents must be so happy to see their daughters hitched to such eligible bachelors.”

Your eye twitched immediately.

“You’re right. We did marry some amazing men. But we shouldn’t lower our own worth either, you know. Your brother is very lucky to have married my sister, after all, as he says himself. I’m sure you’ll find someone who matches your own worth.” You said.

Jinhyo frowned at you, unable to detect sarcasm in your tone and yet not completely comfortable with your words. “Well yes, I hope it will be soon.” She shrugged before flipping the menu open.

Under the table, as she always had, Yongsun’s hand found yours, giving it a squeeze of constant support. You glanced at her, still irritated but relenting in the face of her big, pleading eyes. You could never stay mad at her.

Once the food had been delivered, the three of you awkwardly digging and sharing the dishes, Jinhyo began to reveal exactly why she had tagged along with Yongsun.

Gossip. About Namjoon.

You looked at her sharply when she brought up your husband and the newness of your marriage, going off on a rhetorical tangent about how she had never imagined him marrying someone he didn’t even know.

You stabbed at the meat with your fork.

She wasn’t exactly wrong, a more rational part of your brain told you. Namjoon was a rich businessman who was busy and hardly ever there. It would’ve made sense that he go for someone he knew would be able to match that lifestyle. Maybe Jinhyo had been hoping it would be her. But Namjoon had chosen you, he’d married you.

And no matter how distant the two of you were, you weren’t altogether ok with Jinhyo thinking it was her place to comment on your relationship with your husband.

“Would you look at that, I can’t believe I lost track of time.”

Jinhyo stuttered to a stop.

“Is Namjoon waiting for you or something?” Yongsun asked.

You began to shove the last bites of your food into your mouth, deciding a little white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Yes, I thought we could go out tonight. I’m really excited and I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

That made Jinhyo scowl at her plate.

“Oh that is so nice to hear!” Your poor sister said and for that, just that, the lie was worth it. “Give him our best! Have fun tonight!”

“Yeah,” the other woman said, “I hope it doesn’t turn out bad.”

“Jinhyo! Don’t jinx it!” Yongsun snapped.

“Oh, I doubt tonight will be jinxed.” You laughed - because there was no ‘tonight’ happening. “I’ll see you ladies later.”

You swung your bag up on your shoulders, rushing out towards the door.

“Y/N!”

You looked back at Yongsun catching up with you.

“I hope you’re not mad at me. Jinhyo was near me when you called and I made the mistake of putting the call on speaker. She wanted to come and I couldn’t refuse.”

“Hey,” You put your hands on her shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. I wanna yank her hair, yeah, but I’m not mad at you. I promise. I should really go now though.”

Yongsun studied you for a second before smiling again. “Have fun,” she hugged you tightly. “I’m glad you’re not so far from Namjoon.”

Your smile faded but you held tightly onto her.

The moment the elevator doors closed behind you, encasing you in a surprising feeling of ‘home,’ you heaved a sigh of relief. You had wanted to feel the city, enjoy the company of your sister but you had had to deal with Jin’s obnoxious sister. Now, the very place you had been trying to escape was making you feel restful. It was a conundrum you weren’t prepared for.

You kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat, fetching a drink from the kitchen to sit in front of the tall windows. The evening dark had flooded the penthouse, twinkling city lights like candles outside but you decided against switching on the lights.

You thought back to the morning, the absent way you had helped Namjoon finish dressing, correcting his tie and then asking if he was going to go to work hungry. That hadn’t been strange, had it?

Your idea of marriage was of partnership, companionship, ones that cared for one another. You had had notions of love as well, something to contest the fond indifference you had witnessed in your parents.

You wouldn’t say that your parents didn’t love each other, but it wasn’t the kind that you had wanted and you were once so determined to find that passion that you hadn’t thought once with your brain.

Well, things have changed now.

You and Namjoon had married for separate, private and mostly selfish reasons. But that didn’t mean that you had to remain wholly so for the duration of the relationship. You wondered if Namjoon was prepared to be the absent, distant cold man throughout the alliance.

He didn’t seem to have any leanings towards ending it abruptly, he would have told you, you were sure.

No, this marriage wasn’t a sham for him, but neither of you were attempting to make it anything more either.

You could at least try to be his friend. He probably didn’t want a lover in you, but he still came home to this house, to you. And for that, you were willing to be his friend, to try.

“Ma’am?”

You turned to see one of the helpers, a girl named Asha peering curiously at you from the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” You sat up.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” She didn’t wait for an answer, reaching for the remote switch they had to turn on the lights. You squinted in the sudden brightness before she considerately dimmed them.

“I came home some time ago, just wanted to watch the view.” You stood up.

Asha bowed her head. “We were about to start dinner, ma’am. Would you care for something special or do we proceed with the decided menu?”

You opened your mouth to tell her to carry on before an opportunity came at you. This was your chance, right? You had already made some attempt at reaching him today, you couldn’t let the trail go cold.

“Actually Asha - I had a favor to ask you all.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Go home.”

You carefully placed the hot dishes onto the dining table, walking around to make sure they looked ok. Plates of Kimchi, rice, jjigae and meat steamed, sending aromatic strands floating around the place. It was a simple meal, nothing elaborate but it was tasty and you had frantically tasted and seasoned to get it just right.

You had gone as far as to ask Namjoon’s driver, Sungjin, to let you know when they left for home so you could time it right.

And just as Sungjin had notified you - Namjoon exited the elevator. You caught his carefully parted hair from the kitchen, walking out to see him loosen his tie and pull off his own shoes.

“Ida?” He called to the dark room.

“Hey,” You smiled nervously, holding out your hand for his bag and coat.

Namjoon started a little, turning to you. He didn’t give you his things. “Where is everyone? Why is it so dark here?”

You quickly pulled out the switch remote, turning the lights on as Asha had done. Just as you had done, Namjoon squinted at you.

“Sorry, I was in the kitchen so I didn’t need all the lights on. I sent everyone home.” You held out your hand again. Namjoon still didn’t give you his things.

“You sent everyone home?”

There was a touch of imperiousness in his tone and for a second you were worried he’d ask who gave you the right to. However, his expression cleared up quickly and he only looked confused. “Why?”

“Well,” You dropped your hand. “I thought I’d make dinner tonight. And we could eat together.” You tried to make it sound like a statement - assertive and confident - and not a question.

Namjoon blinked at you, uncomprehending.

It was silent for a long moment before you sighed. “I just thought that - it’d be something to do. Just us.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask you why.

Thankfully, he didn’t. Instead, slowly, he handed you the bag, undoing his coat to hang it up. “Okay.”

He moved past you into the dining room, where the scent of food lingered, leaving you stunned and holding the bag like an idiot.

You dropped off his bag on the seating of the bar, rushing back to see Namjoon sitting at the dinner table, looking at the plates of food.

“You made all of this yourself.” It wasn’t a question and you could just barely detect an emotion in his voice that you weren’t able to discern.

“Yeah,” You placed a dish in front of you, pushing the cutlery tray near him. “Any preference?”

“I’ll just take the rice and meat stew.” He served himself, leaving you to fetch utensils for yourself. To your surprise, the food tasted much better than before as you tucked in. You chalked it up to being hungry from having a stressful day.

You looked up at Namjoon, wondering if he was going to comment on the taste. You knew he was capable of compliments, he had loads of them for his staff. Of course, they were much more accomplished than you and had been doing it for a long time but hey, you weren't exactly bad and the food did taste amazing.

Yeah, he didn’t say anything, quietly using a spoon to shovel rice mixed with stew into his mouth and chewing and swallowing. All in one pace, as if he couldn’t wait to get away from here. From you.

“How was work?” You ventured.

Namjoon stopped chewing. For a second he continued to look down at his spoon before reaching for his water.

“It was ok. Just like everyday.” It almost felt like he was trying to deter you from asking him that question again.

You looked out of the back window then, discouraged and cursed yourself for even thinking that your efforts would be enough for the arrogant man you married. It took you back to the day that you saw him for the very first time.

The cold look in his eyes, the just barely turned up nose and the purse of his lips had been a constant accessory for him that day and he had only politely spoken to the handful of people he had deemed worthy to speak to. All of them had been people like him and Seokjin, you noticed now.

You supposed you should be thanking him for not bringing that stupid attitude to your own wedding. You imagined coming to the altar and seeing that same face. You would’ve turned right about and walked out - he could marry Jinhyo with that face and she could enjoy being ignored for the rest of her life. You snorted internally.

“Y/N.” You blinked out of your petty scenario, looking at Namjoon. His food was gone, eyes fixed to where you’d been smiling goofily to yourself. You quickly schooled your features.

“I’m going to go to bed now.” He said.

You nodded in acknowledgement.

Namjoon glanced down at your mouth again before shaking his head. He stood up, “You need help clearing up?”

“No, I got it.”

He didn’t insist on staying, simply moving to the other doorway to go to his office. “Thank you for dinner.” He said softly and you almost flinched, looking towards him but he’d already shut the door to his office.

Your chewing slowed, pondering his tone. He hadn’t sounded sarcastic. In fact, he had actually sounded quite sincere.

You looked back at his empty plate, wiped clean of the very last trace of stew. You wondered if that was a compliment in and of itself.

It wasn’t until later at night in bed, as you stared up at the ceiling that you realized that he had actually called you by your name to garner your attention.

#bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon x reader #bts #namjoon

[clouditae]

First Love | Epilogue

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | fluff | mild undressing

Word: 1.8k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

couldn’t finish this without an epilogue :)

“How much further?” you can’t help but ask for what seems like the thousandth time. You can’t help it, you haven’t been home in a year, and you feel all sorts of emotions every time you pass a street sign you think is the one you’re going down. You’re always proven wrong.

“Almost there, Miss,” the driver says, a smile displaying on his chapped lips. You watch him as he glances at you in the rearview mirror. “You seem nervous,” he laughs, making a right turn onto another street. 

“It’s obvious?” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. 

The man chuckles. “Very…” he trails off, waiting for you to give him your name, you assume.

“Oh, uh Y/N,” you tell him, giving a polite smile as he turns left on to another street. As you stare out the window, looking out at the cold December night, you notice how much the buildings look like they should be in a mushy romantic movie. Snow falling and the lights shining brightly.

“Well, Y/N,” he begins, letting go of the wheel with one hand to scratch the back of his head, “it’s understandable to be nervous, but there is always a bright side.” 

“And what might that be?” you question, your hands smoothing over your jeans.

“You’re home,” is all he says. You laugh quietly as you feel your body relax a bit more.

He’s right, you are home. After graduating from your university, you spent your entire year in New York. You never had a chance to leave the city and visit your family, friends or Yoongi. You kept in touch almost every day when you first moved, but as time went on, you became busier and busier to the point where conversations were twice a week. Sometimes. You always felt bad every time you were on the phone. 

“May I ask what it is that you do?” He stops at a stop sign, waiting for the elderly woman to cross the street.

“I’m a photographer,” you answer as the car begins to move again once she’s on the sidewalk.

“That’s different. It’s rare to see a photographer in my car. I always see someone who’s in business wearing a suit and tie always on the phone. It’s quite boring to drive around someone who never puts their phone down,” he laughs. “They give out too much information regarding their company, but anyways,” he says, pulling over and turning the car off, “we’re here.” 

You look out the window to see a house. The house, with its two story charcoal colored tiles and picture windows is something you thought you’d never see your best friend live in. Hoseok, on the other hand, might be that type. Thanking the driver, you get out of the car, making your way back towards the trunk. It pops open and you grab your suitcase, placing it on the ground before closing the trunk. You give a small wave as the driver takes off. 

You make your way down the walkway, glancing at the familiar red and dark blue vehicles in the driveway. A lot of your video calls were always in one of those cars, or they were in the background while Ari and Hoseok were attempting to garden in the front. Walking up to the red door, your finger ready to ring the doorbell, you hear faint voices.

“I already told you, Hoseok, the tree won’t go in that way,” you hear Ari say. 

Taking several steps back, you peer around the house to see a wooden gate that leads to the backyard. Dragging your luggage, you unlatch the lock and make your way down the concrete pathway. Rounding the corner of the house, you can see Ari and Hoseok trying to push a tree unsuccessfully into the house. You stifle a laugh as you set down your luggage. 

“Need any help?” you ask.

Ari glances at you saying, “No thanks. We almost got it in.” Doing a double take, Ari lets out a scream, startling both you and Hoseok. In one swift action, Ari runs towards you and brings you into one of her tight hugs. One you haven’t had since you were at the airport. 

You smile happily as you welcome her crushing hug. You always knew you’d miss her hugs, but you never knew how much you’d miss them. As you two separate, you notice fresh tears streaming down your best friend’s cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you ask, laughing as you wipe away her tears. 

“I thought you couldn’t come home,” Ari says, using the sleeve to her beige sweatshirt to wipe away the rest of her tears.

“I know, but I managed to finish early and got the first ticket out here. I couldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding,” you smile, bringing your white coat closer to your body for warmth.

Ari laughs, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, and the wedding isn’t for another three days.” 

From behind Ari, you see Hoseok move the tree out of the doorway and walk over towards the two of you. “Y/N,” he beams, bringing you into another tight hug. “I’m glad to see you’re back!”

“Me too.” You glance at the small backyard. The tiny space is full of flowers from roses to daisies. There’s a small, round table with two chairs off in the corner under an umbrella. It’s a beautiful garden that both Hoseok and Ari must have worked hard on.

You feel your best friend grab your hand, dragging you inside. You quickly grab your luggage before she pulls you inside the house, the tree long forgotten. Ari drags you down the white colored hallway you’ve seen numerous times on your calls, but she doesn’t give you a chance to take a look at all the photos hanging on the walls. You pass a few doors, some open while others are closed until she finally stops.

You finally take in your surroundings. Art paintings of flowers and trees hang on the milky white walls; picture windows in front of you have its white curtains drawn, blocking the view of the front yard. Three pale green sofas—one in the center and the other two facing each other at the sides, creating a sort of U, is in the center of the room. In the middle of the three sofas displays a clear glass coffee table. A lavish, white and green polka dotted rug lies under the table.

Ari leads you by your hand towards the closest sofa. Sitting next to her, you let yourself relax as Hoseok sits on the center sofa. As you sit back more, turning your body just a bit towards the two, you notice that on the wall behind Hoseok are photos of him and Ari. Others have you and Ari, all three of you, and even you and Yoongi. You really miss him.

“Like it?” you hear your best friend ask you, bringing your attention back towards her.

“Yeah. It feels like forever ago when it was only these past four years.”

“It does feel like it’s been a while,” Ari agrees, leaning an elbow on the armrest of the sofa. “Gave the four of us a whole wall while the rest of our friends and family share the wall with the fireplace.”

You look towards the wall at the opposite end where photos of unfamiliar people hang. You recognize her parents, some you guess may be her siblings with how similar they look. You’ve only met her parents—Ari’s siblings not living in town or the country, but they should be coming to town for her wedding. Others consist of Hoseok and his family. People you’ve never met.

“You’ll be staying here, right? Until you leave?” Hoseok asks. “You didn’t get a hotel or anything?”

“Oh, uh, I actually do have a booking–” 

“Cancel it. You can stay here,” Hoseok interrupts, scooting forward in his seat to the point where he’s at the edge of the couch. 

“Okay…” you reply in confusion, looking at Ari, but she’s just as confused as you.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Ari says, looking to you after a moment. 

You nod, pulling out your phone from your coat pocket. “I’ll go ahead and call to cancel, and I guess I’ll change into pajamas since I’m not leaving anywhere.” 

You stand up as Ari follows. “I’ll take your bag to our spare,” she states, letting you dig through your suitcase for your pajamas before taking the handle and pulling it down the hall. You follow her, opening a door she pointed to. 

Entering the bathroom, you close the door behind you, pressing your phone to your ear as you wait for someone to answer. A woman answers the phone, and you begin your process in canceling your booked room. As you do so, you remove your pants, slipping on your sweats. Thankfully you were able to cancel your booking without any fees being made. 

As you hang up, you place your phone on the counter. You look at yourself in the mirror. You look exhausted. You woke up at around two in the morning, and have been awake ever since. You know that the second you lay your head down on anything, you’ll fall asleep immediately. Hopefully you don’t start falling asleep while talking with Hoseok and Ari.

Removing your coat, you place it on the counter above your phone. You pull your shirt over your head, dropping it on top of your coat. You wipe your eyes, trying to rid of your tiredness. As you grab your pajama top, the bathroom door bursts open, causing you to jump, cover your chest as much as possible, and let out a gasp, a scream never making it past your lips. 

You look to see Yoongi standing in the doorway, panting lightly as he looks at you. It feels as if time has stopped. Stopped so suddenly you’re unsure if he’s really here. If he’s really standing in front of you. You two haven’t talked in so long. Why is he here?

Why wouldn’t he be here? His best friend is getting married–of course he’d be here. 

But why is he here? 

How did he know you’d be here? In the bathroom?

It isn’t until later that night that you discover that Hoseok had texted Yoongi to let him know that you showed up at his house.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, still hesitant to believe that Yoongi would be here. Yoongi wastes no time in walking up to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you so tight it feels welcoming. “Yoongi,” you say louder, wrapping your arms around him, holding him just as tight. 

He’s here. He’s in your arms again. He came back to you.

Your hands are shaking as they clutch onto his sweater. You’re trying so hard not to cry, but your emotions are so hard to control. It’s like waves are crashing over one another, never showing any signs of stopping. He pulls back, cupping your cheeks, eyes searching yours. Searching for something you do not know of. Something he can only see. The gap between the two of you closes, and you feel his lips on your. 

You feel whole again. As if time has finally continued on, but this time continues on with Yoongi. 

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff

[hobivore]

FNISS

fniss, noun; giggle

↠ PAIRING: KSJ x reader (m)

↠ WORDS: 1.3K

↠ GENRE: smöt smut

↠ RATING: explicit (18+)

↠ SYNOPSIS: You and Jin go to IKEA. Chaos ensues.

↠ WARNINGS: pwp, terrible puns, semi-public sex, oral sex

↠ A/N: This one’s written for the wonderful @hesperantha​ whom I drew in our possumversary fic exchange. Max, thank you for being my friend and an all-around awesome person and talented writer. This one’s for you, I hope you’ll like it! & many thanks to the equally wonderful @wwilloww​ for beta reading this piece.

P.S. yes, fniss means giggle in Swedish, and yes, it’s also the name of a trash can at IKEA. Enjoy!

© madseok Do not repost, translate or use my stories without my permission.

“Seokjin Kim, I will not hesitate to kill you—”

Jin sighs, melodramatic. “Now you’re the one regretting our relationship? All I wanted was one nightstand.”

You squint at him, following his gaze resting on the small HEMNES cabinet in front of you, before rolling your eyes so hard you’re worried they might fall out of their sockets. “Just—argh,” you throw your hands up, defeated. The sound of his wheezing fills the showroom. “It’s too early for this shit.”

“It’s never too early for Swedish meatballs!” Jin beams. “Or do you prefer Korean b—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” you huff, quickening your pace as you push the cart into an area filled with meticulously designed kitchens neatly slotted into little cubicles. Thin walls separate them, the variety of wallpaper alone almost overwhelming. Minimalistic Scandinavian design, clean and white; rustic, earthy green tones; dark wood to match the cabinets and large ceiling lights. 

“Wait!” Jin jogs after you, catching up with long strides, and you turn around. “Don’t be so in—” he holds up a wok, TOLERANT written in bold uppercase on the label, the pan already shaking with his barely contained laughter. 

You rub a hand down your face. It’s 10:34 a.m. and you’ve been stuck in this maze formally referred to as IKEA for nearly twenty minutes now. Twenty slow, torturous minutes filled with bad puns and the unfortunate butchering of the Swedish language. 

It doesn’t help that you snoozed a few times too many this morning, skipped breakfast, and had to drive through traffic with a way too upbeat and basically vibrating Jin in the passenger seat. 

It’s always those fucking early birds.

For what it’s worth, this early on a Tuesday there’s almost no one in the building to witness your sulking. And Jin, always attentive, had grabbed you a coffee while you were getting a cart. It’d tasted like ass—not the good kind—and paper, but you’d figured you needed every milligram of caffeine you could get if you were to survive the next hour. Or, worst case scenario: next couple hours. 

Normally you would go to IKEA on your own and head straight for whatever items you need while ignoring the rest, load them into your car and leave. But you can’t lift three wardrobes by yourself, so you’d asked Jin to tag along. Something you’re starting to regret more and more since he’d insisted on walking the full route instead of skipping the showrooms. 

“Okay, fine. No more puns.” Jin puts the wok back on the rack. “Do you want to hear an IKEA joke instead?” 

You sigh, knowing resistance is futile, your answer more for show than anything of substance. “What makes you think I want to hear an IKEA joke? No. I don’t.”

“You’re right.” He grins, bright, as he continues: “Because you’ll have to make it yourself.” 

“Jin, please,” you groan, while suppressing a smile at his infectious laughter. You can’t give in or else you’ll be stuck in here until next week. “Focus. Three wardrobes. In and out. That’s it.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you in and kisses your temple. “The wardrobes. No fun.” He traces down your face before his soft lips settle along your jaw. You shiver as his hands come to rest on your lower back, fingers slipping underneath your hoodie, heated against your bare skin. 

“Exactly. IKEA isn’t fun. Sleeping is fun. Eating is fun. Sex is fun—”

You cut yourself off as he pulls back all of a sudden, expression quickly changing when the proverbial light bulb turns on inside his head. “No—” you hastily add, floundering, but this time he’s faster. 

“We can make IKEA fun,” he interrupts, face inches from yours, eyes focused on your lips. You’re suddenly too aware of his chest pressed against your own and the way his hands rub small circles into your hips, his thumbs dipping below the waistband of your jeans. 

He’s close enough for your noses to touch now, and you tilt your head, anticipation forming a tight knot in your chest—

You let out a surprised yelp when he grabs your hand and whirls you behind a kitchen island in one of the small decor kitchens. “Good sir,” he sinks to his knees, looking up at you. “May I offer you a blöwjöb?” 

“Jin—” you hiss, both a warning and a plea, watching as his fingers find their way to your belt buckle, coming to rest there, waiting for your permission.  

You glance around the tiny cubicle: the unfamiliar yet familiar furniture, the empty showroom to your right, Jin’s kneeling figure hidden behind the kitchen island. He looks so soft and cosy in his woollen oversized sweater that you have half a mind to kiss him—previous responsibilities and inhibitions long forgotten and replaced by a burning need to hold him close. The promise of what his smart mouth can do is the only thing stopping you from hoisting him up and bending him over the kitchen counter. 

“Jesus—fuck, okay. You’re insane.”

He has the audacity to wink at you before making quick work of your belt and taking your already hardening cock into his mouth, the plush of his lips soft against your skin. 

You kick your head back and swallow a moan, a hand coming up to steady yourself against the kitchen island. Through heavy-lidded eyes you watch him, brushing his hair—it’s getting longer again, you notice absentmindedly—out of his eyes with your other hand. 

He’s showing off now, a slow drag of his tongue along your shaft, explicit, purely for his own twisted entertainment—small kitten-licks at the sensitive head, savouring the precum with closed eyes, until your hand tightens into his hair, your hips bucking of their own volition. “Ah—shit, sorry, can I move?”

“Hmm,” he hums, “be quick. In and out. That’s it.” He winks again. “You know I won’t vomit on your dick.” 

You snort, a hand traversing down his jaw, feeling it slacken as he takes you deeper, drooling. It’s wet, it’s messy, and it’s entirely too loud for the place you’re in. It only serves to fuel your arousal, desperate to be faster; harsh snaps of your hips, chasing your high before anyone can catch you in the act. 

It’s clumsy, overeager, your cock slipping out of his mouth a few times at a particularly unrestrained thrust, hitting him on the cheek. The soft sound of his giggles nestles itself in the space behind your breastbone, filling it with a warmth that radiates outwards until it infuses your entire body. 

“You’re so good for me, baby, fuck—” your hand is loosely wrapped around his throat now, feeling the outline of your cock pressing into your palm, your head spinning as he swallows around you. The movement of his arm catches your eye and you follow it down to where he’s palming himself over his jeans, his hand splayed over his straining bulge. 

“Are you touching yourself?” you ask. He acknowledges your words by sliding his other hand to the back of your thigh, urging you on. You have to close your eyes for a moment, the image of him on his knees, greedy like this, all for you, becoming too overwhelming. 

“Do you wish it was me touching you instead? Slip my hand into your pants, make you come all over my face, make you lick it off—”

He finally moans at that, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine, balls tightening as your cock grows impossibly harder. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back your own choked-off whimpers, desperation clear in every jittery stutter of your hips. 

When you come it’s with a soft sob, the syllable of his name rolling around your mouth as you spill down his throat and he swallows every drop. 

Jin rises to his feet, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Three wardrobes, no puns, I get to fuck you when we’re home. Deal?”

“Shut up, you idiot.” You plant a kiss on his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as you linger there for a moment before leaning back and pointing at the storage cabinet against the wall. “You’re the BESTÅ.” You kiss him again. “And yes, you can fuck me. Let’s go.” 

Thank you for reading!

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↠ Masterlist

#thebtswritersclub #btsghostie #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fic #possumswrite #possumversary

[bangtanloverboys]

dragonpants & winterflame // jjk

summary - your professor assigns you to look after and help get the new kid, jungkook, settled in. you’d think it be easy, but he’s nothing like any of the other students

pairing - new student!jungkook x wizard!reader

genre - fluff; wizard 101 au

word count - 5.0k

warnings - dip’s made up lore, friendship, gay bears (oops a double entrendre), tending of the wounds(tm), nick jonas

guide - pyromancy = fire magic; thaumaturgy = ice magic; grizzleheim = viking bear, wolf, and raven world

author’s note - behold my last w101 au! i've had so much fun working on this and it's my pride and joy. thank you all for enjoying (and i'm sorry to the w101 fans who've had to deal with this in the tags 😅)

the seven schools of ravenwood masterlist

Life in Wizard City was never something that you had expected for you, having grown up on the far edges of the spiral in Grizzleheim. All you’d ever known were the harsh winters of a world full of bears, wolves, and ravens. No one quite knew where you’d come from only being found the burnt remains of Draugarth as an infant. Sten and Bo Silverwood of Clan Ironclaw were the ones who took you in and raised you, calling you their hairless cub.

Growing up, you knew you were different. You didn’t have fur like a bear or a wolf, nor feathers like a raven. You were something else, even beyond your physical appearance. Despite having no fur, your skin bore to the elements, you were never cold. Chilly, yes. But in the cold winds that enveloped Grizzleheim, you never once shivered. But your Papa and Bubba never made you once feel as if you were an outcast, they loved you as their own and that’s all that would matter. 

As you reached your fifteenth year, more peculiarities began happening around you. Your body would grow warm, becoming unbearable to the point you’d wear the thinnest of your clothes in the midst of snow storms. When it was your turn to make dinner for your fathers, you’d burn the meat to charcoal, eventually banning you from the kitchen. However, the worst was yet to come.

You were huddled near a hearth in Northguard, knees pulled up to your chest as you stared into the fire. You watched the flames flicker and change, almost as if they were forming into small figures; you’d see bears and wolves talk amongst themselves, laughing heartily, ravens fly across the sky, and creatures of myth you’d heard as a young one. Creatures like dragons, imps, and centaurs. You’d thought you were only seeing these things in your mind's eye as you watched the fire, but as you focused more on the dragon, you watched as it grew larger. You rubbed your eyes, thinking it was a trick of the light, but it wasn’t. The fiery depiction of the creature grew and grew, spitting out flames from its mouth, catching onto the roof of a nearby hut. You screamed for help, but with each panicked cry, the fire grew larger and larger. Quickly, the clan rallied to put out the fire, but with each bucket of water thrown over it, it did not settle. Only when your papa had wrapped you into his arms, calming you down did the fire finally die. 

“This cub is a demon! We must free ourselves from it!” Kol Shadowsong accused, singling you out. The clan leaders gathered in the Great Hall to discuss what should be done with you, as you nearly burnt Northguard to the ground. Your fathers stood beside you, refusing to back down to let you stand alone. 

“Your Majesty, see reason! It’s clear they have no control over this affliction! They meant no harm! They’re practically still a cub!” Your papa shouted at King Valgard. 

“And that cub nearly burnt this stronghold to the ground!” The king growled. “If they cannot control it, they are a danger to the rest of us. I cannot allow them to endanger the rest of the clans.”

“But what if they could learn to?” Your bubba countered. 

“How?”

“I know.” All attention was turned toward a new voice, Bauldur Goldpaws, the trader. “I’ve heard of this affliction in my travels. It’s called pyromancy! The ability to control fire and summon creatures of that nature. It can be controlled, but only through hard work and training. There is a school that teaches how to control and master this very affliction. Ravenwood in Wizard City.”

You’d only vaguely remembered hearing those names. It sounded familiar, yet you did not know or understand why, like something from a dream.

“That’s halfway across the Spiral and the World Tree connection was severed centuries ago! How do you intend to even get there?” Your papa questioned. 

“The skyways, as our ancestors once did.” Bauldur turned to face your fathers personally. “King Valgard has already tasked me with the honor of re-establishing our trade routes. Wizard City is one of those stops. With your permission, I will ensure that your cub will get there safely. They will be enrolled and they will learn to control it.”

“Do they look like me?” You found yourself asking. All attention was returned back to you, and you felt small under everyone’s gaze. “These pyromancers. . . are they like me?”

Getting down on one knee, Bauldur met your gaze. “Yes, child. There are many that look like you. You will be safe and taught to control this,” he gestured to your hands. 

Looking between your fathers, you met their eyes. Papa clearly not wanting to let you go, to keep you safe by his side and protect you from the world forever. But Bubba, he knew. He knew this was what was best for you, best for the clan. Looking back to Bauldur, you nodded. “I’ll go.”

The trader looked back to the King, who sighed. “Fine,” he waved his hand. “Your cub may go and learn to control this. . . pyromancy. But they may only return, once they’ve mastered the ability. Then and only then may they return to Grizzleheim. Dismissed.”

Your fathers walked out of the Great Hall, bickering between themselves as you looked up at Bauldur. “We leave at first light, pack heavy. We’ll be traveling for a few moons.”

It was hard to say goodbye, having never left home before and to be gone for so long. . . You were scared. You didn’t want to leave, but you knew you had to. It was for the good of the clans. You packed all your belongings into several chests; your robes, your boots, helmets, hats, and swords. Anything you might’ve needed, you were packed and ready for. 

“Be good,” Papa said as he squeezed you tight against him. You buried your face into his fur, trying to memorize every last detail of him. 

“I will.”

Bubba hugged you just as hard, if not harder. He knew this was coming, that one day you’d leave, just never imagined it so soon. Pulling away from you, he placed his paw on your face and smiled at you. “My little cub, be proud of who you are and where you’re from.”

As Bauldur said, it took many months to reach Wizard City. Had you gone in a direct route, you might’ve gotten there faster, but unfortunately you were just a ride along. Bauldur had a job to do, re-establishing the long lost trade routes amongst the other worlds of the Spiral. You’d see places you’d never even imagine seeing; the evergreen world of Mooshu, the ancient sand covered temples of Krokotopia, and the endless fields of Zafaria. Until finally, Bauldur and landed at the edge of the world in Wizard City! 

Dozens of wizards gathered as the ship weighed its anchor against one of the stone towers. You’d been used to whispers and stares all your life, but this was different, you felt isolated and singled out, as if you were being peered at under an eye-glass. You hid behind Bauldur once he was beside you on the grass.

“Who goes there?” A man with hair on his face and dressed in strange armor questioned. 

“I am Bauldur Goldpaws, and this is my ward, Y/N Silverwood. We seek your Headmaster.” 

The guard looked between you and Bauldur, “Follow me.” Was all he said before he stiffly started walking towards a tunnel, burrowed deep into the cliffside. 

The Headmaster, Merle Ambrose, was stunned to learn that you were there to enroll. No one had ever traveled so far in order to attend. It was a first. But nevertheless, you were enrolled in the School of Fire. Professor Dalia Falmea took you under her wing, giving you private lessons until you’d caught up to your age group. You were a bit of an oddity at first, being the only one dressed in furs rather than the colored robes your peers wore. You’d even shocked everyone when you’d been able to pick up thaumaturgy as a secondary school. But eventually the intrigue and mystery died away as time went on.

You’d been at Ravenwood seven years now, almost finishing your mastery classes. You’d held onto this moment for years. Finally, you’d be able to go home! To see your fathers once again! You’d kept up correspondence with them, sending letters through the trade route you’d helped Bauldur set up. So they knew you were in good health and they were also happy for you. At least up until the past year, the former death professor unleashed monsters onto the city streets endangering the students and their livelihood. Papa almost wanted you back then and there, but there were also growing tensions amongst the clans (at least so you’d heard through Bauldur, your fathers did every attempt to keep it from you) so you stayed in Wizard City. However, none of you could’ve predicted what else was to come. 

It was like any ordinary day, you’d just finished your class with Professor Falmea when she called you up to speak with her before you could leave. Shouldering your pack, you walked up to her on the platform. 

“Yes, Professor?”

“Ah, Winterflame. You’ve advanced much in these past few years, becoming one of my star pupils.” 

Your face grew warm at her compliments. “Thank you, Professor.”

“And as my best student, there’s something I need to ask of you.” She motioned toward the door, glancing behind you, you watched as a bright red haired guy about your age walked in, dressed in red and orange robes. “This is my newest student, Jungkook Dragonpants.”

You furrowed your brows at the name, “Dragonpants?” Did you hear that right?

“Yup, that’s me,” the wizard winked at you. 

You’ve never met a student with a lastname like that, the weirdest one you think you’ve heard was Frogtamer. You were going to have to ask him about it later. You turned to Dalia to finish talking.

“Winterflame, I’d like you to help get him adjusted to life in Wizard City. In fact, Headmaster Ambrose suggested it, considering you know how it feels,” she explained. While you knew neither of them meant no ill will, it still felt slightly targeted. There’d been dozens of new students and transfers to Wizard City since you. But maybe he was from far out in the Spiral too, and there was the fact he was also a pyromancer.

“Okay,” you nodded before turning to Jungkook. He was near bouncing on his heels and his eyes. . .His eyes kept wandering around the room, between the professor, the walls, the chalkboard, the cauldron, everything. Okay, you could relate to that, seeing it all for the first time. Trying your best to hide your smile, you nodded to the door. “Come on, let’s go.” The two of you walked out of the school house, and still Jungkook was looking at everything. Bernie, Torrence, Bartleby, Arthur Wethersfield. You remembered being like that, taking everything in all at once. “So on either side of the tunnel are the dorms, yes it’s one door. But your key is what opens the door to your own room, specifically. You get your key from Lincoln,” you said, gesturing to him as he wrote in his booklet. “I can give you a more in depth tour later, so you’re getting the dry run. If that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah that’s fine,” he said, smiling as he looked up at the World Tree.

“So, where’re you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Eeeeerrrr. . .”

“Eeeerrr?” You raised a brow.

“It’s some place far away with a name you wouldn’t know or how to pronounce,” he waved his hand, trying to hand the subject. “What about you? You from around here or elsewhere?”

A bittersweet smile crossed your face. “Grizzleheim, a world tucked away in the farside of the Spiral.”

“Woah, that sounds. . . cool. What’s it like?”

Again, you were confused. How did he not know what Grizzleheim was? Since your arrival and the trade route was re-established, almost everyone knew what Grizzleheim was and how far it was. “It’s cold, a lot closer than here. It rains or snows most of the year, don’t get a lot of sun. But it’s beautiful and it’s. . . it’s my home.” You found yourself stopping on the sidewalk, reminiscing.

“Do you visit often?” 

You shook your head. “No, I haven’t been since. . . since I enrolled. It’s-it’s a long story.” You weren’t about to get all nostalgic with a stranger. “But anyways, are you a transfer? Novice, what?”

“I’m new.”

“. . . Are you in class with people our age or younger?”

“Oh, I’m not in class. Ambrose said I can do independent studies to help catch up. Like helping out around the city and anyone who needs it. Speaking of which, where’s Unicorn Way? I was told to go there as soon as I could.” He asked, his head glancing about, this time with intention rather than curiosity.

“Unicorn Way is crawling with monsters, are you sure you were asked to go there?”

Jungkook held up a letter, addressed to Private Connelly in the Headmaster’s handwriting. It was off, but if it was Ambrose. . .

“Through the Commons tunnel, turn left, go down the street, over the bridge, Unicorn Way is right there.”

“Great, thanks,” he smiled as he patted you on the shoulder. “Talk more later?” He asked as he started toward the tunnel. 

“Yeah, just uh, meet me in front of the Library, noon!” You called out after him.

“Awesome, see you then!” Then he vanished into the shadows. He was odd, but you were intrigued nonetheless. 

A few days later was your rest day, and you typically liked spending it in Olde Town,  sitting on the grass at the edge of the cliff, where Bauldur dropped you off. He wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be for another few weeks before he made his rounds back to Wizard City. When he was there, you’d catch up, then trade the dozens of letters your fathers would write to you and give to Bauldur yours. But days like this, you’d just sit and stare out into the skyways.

“Hey!” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Turning your head to the side, there stood the new kid, Jungkook. His face was littered with fresh cuts and bruises, but he still held that same cheery demeanor he had when you first met him. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“It’s my off-day, what happened to you?” You rose to your feet, immediately going to check his injuries.

“Oh, these? Just finished clearing up Unicorn way,” he said with a proud smile. 

His words took you aback, “You- you did what?”

“Well it’s not cleared up permanently. There’s still some ghosts, but the skeletons and dark fairies are all taken care of for the most part.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “But Prof Falmea said I’m almost to the level of her apprentice level class with how fast I’m progressing.”

“In just a few days?” You were baffled, no one has ever advanced that fast before! At least not without prior schooling.

“I’m a fast learner,” was all he said. “But really, why are you here on your off-day? Are there not a lot of exciting things to do around here?”

“No there are. There’s the Shopping District, Fairgrounds, dueling. . . But I like coming here, it’s where I first stepped foot in Wizard City.” You smiled softly at the memory, you felt so small then. Now no one even bats an eye at you, just another student walking the grounds. “But anyways, how are you finding it?”

“Well, I’ve done a lot of back and forth lately between places, but everyone is nice, given the circumstances. Sorry I had to rush off the other day, but the Headmaster said it was urgent. But I’m seeing a lot of the city, and this place is pretty cool.” He turned to look up at the cliffs of the city, and you followed his gaze. Just barely, you could see the overhead branches of Bartleby. Both of you stood there for a moment, enjoying the view. 

“Hey, I’m sorry if this is a weird question but how did you get Dragonpants?” You asked. It’s not exactly a common question to ask, but you were curious. You always were anytime someone gave their name. 

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his brows. 

“I mean how did you earn Dragonpants as a last name? I got Winterflame because I’m one of the few pyromancers that has thaumaturgy as a secondary. I know a guy broke his wand and earned his last name, another summoned Humongofrog. So how did you get yours?”

All Jungkook could do was stare at you blankly. “Uhhh, I- uh. . . that’s an interesting story. Oh, look at the sun! I need to rush to Firecat Alley. I’ll definitely tell you that story later. Bye!” He then ran down the street, but instead of Firecat Alley, it was towards Triton Avenue. 

And that’s not most of your interactions with Jungkook were. You’d see him randomly on the streets in between classes (in between quests for him), he’d always have a new cut or bruise somewhere on his skin. But he was advancing quickly. Every time you saw him, he was further and further along in his independent studies. Last you checked, he was nearing the adept level courses. Despite his quick advances, battles were getting harder and more difficult. So he started asking you for help, which you did. You helped him in Firecat Alley, Triton Avenue, and Cyclops Lane. Dueling beside him was incredible, he was focused and valiant. He didn’t let the enemies get to him, no matter how cruel their taunts grew.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” You found yourself asking, as the two of you tiredly made your back back towards the Commons.

“What do you mean?”

“What these- these villains are saying to you? Surely, it has to get under your skin sometimes?”

Jungkook paused, dark eyes almost hidden by his reddish-pink hair. “Sometimes. In the beginning, it did a lot. But the more I fight them off, it’s just becoming more and more. . . annoying than hurtful.”

“Annoying?” You asked, almost chuckling.

“I mean, yeah it’s annoying!” Jungkook’s face broke into an exasperated expression. “‘You won’t get away with this, Young Wizard!’, ‘Malistaire is coming!’,’No puny wizard has ever defeated me!’ Puh-lease! As soon as they start saying stuff like that, the more it motivates me to win out of spite.”

That had both of you peeling over in laughter, earning a handful of odd looks from your fellow students and passing citizens. 

The two of you grew closer and closer, but no matter what, he didn’t say much about his past. Nothing on where he was from, or how he got his last name or why he wasn’t properly enrolled in school. Nothing. It didn’t bug you much, you could understand not wanting to answer pestering questions about where you were from, so you didn’t ask. But with each quest the two of you completed, you only had more and more questions. You just felt out of the loop. 

However, once his quests started taking him outside of Wizard City, he had to continue going out alone. You didn’t have permission to leave the city, only Jungkook and a few select transfer students were granted that permission. You did your best to keep in touch still, he’d stop by your dorm and ask odd questions about Kroks and other things related to sorcery. You directed him to the library. There wasn’t much else you could do to help, as you had your own studies to focus on. 

The last time Jungkook came over though, it was the worst of them. It was already late at night, but you were still up, cram studying for your final mastery exam in two days. After re-reading the same sentence over and over about the differences between sunbirds and phoenixes, there was a harsh knock at the door. 

With a yawn, you walked over to the door, opening it to see Jungkook, battered and bruised. His left eye was dark and near swollen shut, his lip was busted, and he was leaning on the door frame for support. “H-hi.”

“Oh my stars!” Your body immediately woke up, helping him into your dorm. You set him down at your desk as you rushed to your trunk, digging through it for a healing potion. Instead you found an old salve from home. It would have to do for now, you hadn’t had a chance to stock up on potions. Jar in hand, you made your way over to Jungkook. Opening the jar, you dipped your fingers in and took out a small glob. “This’ll feel a bit chilly.” Jungkook winced as the balm touched his skin, but he remained still as you continued to apply it to his wounds. 

“Smells kinda funny.”

You chuckled at that. “Yeah, it does.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a yarrow-marshmallow salve. Honestly, I forgot I had it. My bubba probably packed it away for me.”

“Your bubba?”

You paused. You didn’t talk much about your homelife to anyone, no matter how much they asked. This was the first time you ever willingly brought it up. With a shaky breath, you continued. “Yea, he’s one of the men who raised me. They’re the only family I’ve ever known.”

“You weren’t raised by your parents?”

You shook your head. “I was found in the remains of an old village, it was attacked by these creatures called grendels. I was the only survivor. I was found, tucked away in a burnt down shack. Sten and Bo Silverwood, my papa and bubba. They found me, took me in, and raised me as their own. Don’t know who my birth parents were, all we could figure is they were pyromancers and traveling across the spiral, probably traders. But we’ll never know,” you shrugged. “And I’m okay with that, I love my dads. And I wouldn’t change anything about how I was raised.”

“You said you can’t go home.”

“Yes and no.” You huffed. “It’s not easy to get to Grizzleheim, it’s months of traveling the skyways. But even if the world door worked, I can’t go back. I was. . . I was a danger to the clan. I had no control over my magic and the king had no choice but to order me to attend Ravenwood until I learned to master it.” As soon as you started, you couldn’t stop. All these years, and you never shared your story with anyone, not outside Professor Falmea. “But my pyromancy mastery final is in a couple days. And next week, Bauldur Goldpaws will return to Wizard City and I’ll be able to go home again.”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his eyes downcast. “I’m also from far away but. . . I don’t think I’ll be able to return home.” You’re silent, waiting for him to continue. “I’m from Earth. Where I’m from there’s no magic or talking animals, or anything. It’s just people. Then one day, I almost set fire to my house with my bare hands. I don’t know what to do so I start running. And I ran, and ran and ran until my legs felt like jelly. It gets blurry from there but next thing I know, I’m in the Headmaster’s office.”

“You don’t know how you got here?”

Jungkook gnawed on his lower lip. “I can’t really talk about it. Ambrose said so.”

Orders from the Headmaster, so you let it drop. Maybe in time he’ll tell you in time, but until then, you’ll take what little answers you can. “Can you tell me about your last name?”

That had Jungkook break out into a grin. “He didn’t tell me there were reasons behind last names, just wanted me to have one to blend in. I just chose a random one, thought it was funny.” Now it was your turn to laugh. You smacked your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your laughter. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. I’m dumb I know.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re-you’re going to endure weird looks for the rest of your life, you know that right?”

“I signed myself up for it, I just need to make up a convincing story for it.”

Once your laughter died down, you just smiled at Jungkook. With the salve applied, it was slowly bringing down the swelling and discoloration. Running a hand through his red hair, you sent him off. “It’s late. Get some rest.” He did as you were told, walking off toward his own dormitory. 

The next morning, you stopped by to check on him, wanting to see how he was faring the day after but he was gone again. That poor boy is gonna get dragged all over the Spiral if he doesn’t learn to say no to a favor. But Jungkook was the farthest thing on your mind as your exam date was coming up. Your nose was stuck in a book or a scroll, you didn’t have time to think of anything else except acing this test and finally going home. That was your sole motivation. 

The day of your final, Jungkook was outside your door.

“Hey-”

You cut him off before he could even begin. “Sorry, I really don’t have time.” 

“But-”

“Listen, Jungkook, I really don’t have time. I really gotta go, I’m sorry.” You gave him a sad smile as you made a beeline for the School of Fire. 

After three long agonizing hours of going through the different types of blade and shield combos, and the various types of spell casts from firecat to meteor strike to inferno salamander and their historical origins. You finally made it out. You answered every question to the best of your ability, and now all you had to do was wait for the results to be posted. 

As you left the school house, Jungkook was waiting outside, sitting on the steps of Professor Falmea’s office tower. 

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“The door is open.”

His words puzzled you. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The door! You said the door to your home world was severed years ago yeah? Well it's open again.”

“What.”

“Ambrose just told me that the door to Grizzlehiem just opened, no one knows how or why, but it is. That’s what I tried telling you this morning!” He said, smiling. “You can go home.”

Dropping your items, you bolted. In the back of your mind, you knew that King Valgard wouldn’t be happy you weren’t a titled master yet, but damn him. Damn the technicalities, you knew you were a master. You just wanted to go home again. You pushed past all the other students as they entered the World Tree, not listening to their complaints as you rushed towards the door (you could vaguely hear Jungkook apologizing on your behalf as he ran after you). 

Hand on the nozzle, you thought of Grizzleheim. Home. The smell of the pines, the crisp snowy air, the laughter of the bears in the Great Hall. You could see it all perfectly in your mind's eye as you opened that door. And there you were, on the other side of the rainbow bridge, at the world tree door. 

“Oh, wow,” you heard Jungkook breathe out from behind you.

You took one step out the door; your boots crunched on the dirt beneath your feet as you stood there, taking it all in. “Papa! Bubba! I’m home!” You burst into another run, down the rainbow bride and towards the village, shouting at the top of your lungs. “Papa! Bubba! It’s me! I’m home!” Back on solid ground, you made your way towards your childhood home. Not one thing about this place changed, it was as if you’d stepped back into a memory. 

“Little cub?” Your papa’s head poked out from the hut. He looked older, white hairs gathering around his snout and ears. But it was still every bit your papa. 

“Papa!” You squealed, adrenaline pumping through your veins so hard, you couldn’t feel your lungs as they burned or how your legs ached with each step you stook. Your papa saw you in the nick of time, opening his arms wide enough for you to jump into his hold. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you dug your face into his chest.

“How- how can this be. . ?” 

“Bubba!” You turned to see your other father, standing speechless in the kitchen. You jumped into his arms next. He returned your hug instantly, with your papa returning to hug you from behind once again. Tears were now freely rolling down your cheeks as you held your dads tight as you possibly could.

“I don’t understand, how- what?”

“The world tree door has been re-opened. I- I don’t know how but, I- I needed to come home. It’s been so long.” You cried, your hands gripping tightly onto Bubba’s fur. “I can control my powers. I did it. I learned. I can come home now, yeah.”

“Oh cub, of course.” Papa answered. “You did as you were told by the king. You can come home.” The three of you said nothing further after that, crying and holding each other. Relieved to finally see each other again after seven whole years.

From behind your group hug, you could hear someone clear their throat. “Oh,” you pulled away from your dads, seeing Jungkook standing awkwardly in the door frame. “Bubba, Papa, this is Jungkook Dragonpants. He’s my friend.”

“Dragonpants? What kind of a name is that?” Your Bubba asked, voice low.

“Bubba,” you groaned.

“It’s my name, sir,” he said, not backing down from your father’s clear intimidation attempt. He certainly was brave, very few could stare him in the eyes and not back down. 

“Any friend of our cub’s is a friend of ours,” your papa said, narrowing his eyes at his husband. “Come in, tell us all your stories. Everything you left out in your letters.” With a smile, you nodded, turning back to Jungkook who was looking more outside. Wrapping a hand around his arm, you pulled him inside.

“Wait, hang on, is that Nick Jonas?”

#btsghostie #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x gender neutral reader #jungkook x gender neutral reader #bts x gender neutral reader #bts wizard au #wizard101 au #wizard jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

[justimajin]

The Profit & Love Statement » Pt. 5

↠ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

↠ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ (3.9k), Office AU (lowkey E2L vibes) 

↠ Summary: The workplace isn’t for everyone. It can be mundane and repetitive, with some describing it like a nuisance and others as a blessing. You’re the kind that leans more towards the latter and while it does make you an ideal candidate for many things, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind that is the new employee.

GIF credit.

↠ Next Update: Tuesday, August 15 (series masterpost here)

You narrow your eyes at the instant ramen.

The first and last time you attempted cooking the simple packaged noodles, you had accidentally added in oil instead of water and the entire pot erupted into flames, resulting in the bulk of the noodles to come out fried to a crisp instead of boiled. 

What could go wrong a second time?

As you stand there in the aisle contemplating the life and death situation, a cart hits you.

You spin around, the young man profusely apologizing.

“Don’t worry about it.” You say with a smile, and he meekly pushes the cart across from yours, attempting to quickly bypass you in the lane.

You drop the packet of noodles into your cart and push it forward with a sigh. You had come home during the night only to discover that your fridge was nearly empty and as a result, you had ended up busing to the grocery store with Yuna in an attempt to salvage some food.

However, your current circumstance only has you wincing at products the further you dive deeper into the store.

“Y/N!”

Yuna rushes down the lane, pausing at your cart with a collection of snacks in her hands.

“Can we get these?”

“Let’s see…” You dart your eyes, grimacing at not only the abundance in his grasp, but the inflated price each one has. 

Your vision shifts, noticing a pile of chips on sale. “Why don’t we get those ones?”

Yuna scrunches her nose, “But they taste horrible.”

“They’re on sale.” You offer with a soft smile, pushing your cart closer to them. However, Yuna’s expression doesn’t change. 

You sigh, reaching out for one of her snacks, “Alright, how about we just get one of these?”

She beams, “Okay!”

You smile, but then Yuna realizes what’s in your cart.

“You’re going to buy ramen…?”

“Yeah, it’s cheap and I’ll try to make it again.” You suggest.

“Oh, okay….” Yuna says, “That sounds nice…”

You shake your head from her horrible attempt to be optimistic, “Don’t worry, that’s why I’m buying some snacks just in case.”

She laughs at that and you resume roaming around the store for the next hour. You don’t end up buying much, a particular impending notice tending to manifest in your brain every five minutes and the words ‘why is everything here so expensive?’ leaving you more than once.

It’s not long before you’re checking out at the cashier and Yuna helps you carry the groceries out the store. But that’s when her head reels around.

“Can we go there?”

“Hm?” You turn around and notice the posh restaurant on the other side of the street.

A grimace runs through you, “Maybe next time.” You promise right away and it’s hard to ignore the flash of disappointment that crosses Yuna.

As the bus moves through the various stops, the pending notice blocks your thoughts again. You assumed that grabbing extra shifts from your restaurant would be hard enough, but you wonder how it’ll pale in comparison to the mammoth task you’ve taken on. 

Taehyung deeply sighs.

It’s not difficult, nor is it excruciating, but he’s starting to realize both yours and Yoongi’s distress.

There really is only one way to describe it:

Kim Seokjin and the workplace do not mix well. 

“Mr. Soon-To-Be CEO, that is not the way we do that.” He cautiously states. He’s lost track of how many times he’s said that phrase or alterations of it to the intern.

“But this is so boring.” Seokjin scoffs, spinning around in his rolling chair. Taehyung can understand that it’s hard to properly grasp onto Marketing concepts and that the latter doesn’t have much experience with it, but he hasn’t managed to get anywhere as a result.

Seokjin suddenly stops, a bright twinkle residing within his irises, “Hey, hey, want to hear a joke?”

Taehyung inwardly groans.

“Not reall–“ 

“You know how you were telling me about how small businesses can take up loans but big corporations don’t need to?” 

He furrows his brows. That was something he told Seokjin in a casual conversation, and he actually remembered it.

Before he can answer, the Soon-To-Be CEO is already laughing. 

“Is it because they’ve lost interest?”

Immediately the man is doubled over and wheezing with squeaky laughs. Taehyung stands frozen before him like a statue, his confusion morphing into a deadpan expression.

It nearly mimics the one Yoongi usually has, but the lack of reaction is something the man before him isn’t keen on.

Seokjin stops laughing, crossing his arms with a pout, “Laugh.”

It almost sounds like a command and to rebuttal, Taehyung lets out the most hysterical and jovious laugh of his entire life. It lasts for a single minute before it is completely gone, similar to a switch being turned off.

Seokjin frowns at the reaction.

“Geez, Tae.” A new voice beckons him from the door, “You could have at least tried to properly laugh.”

Taehyung whirls around, a bright smile stretching across his features.

“Y/N?”

You return his smile and enter the room, “How’s the shadowing been going?”

Taehyung’s smile drops, and he lets out a deep exhale.

You chuckle, “Sounds about right.”

Seokjin frowns, “What are you doing here?”

“Good question.” You muse, “I’m here to help Taehyung and to oversee your training from now on.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen at that. You reminisce that even though this process is just an uphill battle for a promotion and you weren’t able to secure a Managerial position, your role is somewhat similar to what you were aiming towards.

You take the chair next to Taehyung, “What were you teaching Seokjin before I got here?” 

“Pretty much the basics.” Taehyung begins, “I was trying to explain the different types of media we use in the company for Marketing and how we work with other departments to ensure the right type of advertising.” 

“So you haven’t even progressed to the hand’s on components yet…” You murmur underneath your breath, turning to Seokjin. 

“And how much of that did you grasp?” 

He squints, “Probably like…. 2%.” 

You frown, placing a finger against your chin. If there was anything you knew about Seokjin, it was that the office was brand new for him, and there was no point getting extensive with his training if he wasn’t able to keep up. 

Which means you really need to go back to the basics. 

“Alright then,” You turn to Taehyung, “Do you mind if he works with me for some time? You can resume training him afterwards.” 

Taehyung glances at you in puzzlement, not quite understanding what was churning in your mind. But he solemnly nods, deciding to go with your judgement. 

***

The moment you leave the room, there’s no stone left unturned.

“You still don’t understand how to do basic computations, right?”

Seokjin turns at the sound of your voice, previously occupied with simply following behind you and peering around the place.

“Nope.”

“And you’re still confused around how things work here on a day-to-day basis?”

“Well, yeah.” He plainly states. Turning his attention over to you, he peers over your shoulder.

He raises an eyebrow at the notepad in your hand. “Wait – are you writing all of that down?”

“Yep.” You say, focused on writing the last point. You unclick your pen and drop it into your pocket. “It’s like I said before, I’m overseeing your training now.”

Seokjin follows you to your cubicle, absentmindedly staring around.

You gesture to your desk for him to take a seat. He compiles and a giant stack of papers lands right in front of him.

He furrow his brows, “What’s all this?” 

You gesture to them, “These are some of the training manuals we give to newer employees. It’s usually complemented by a training program, but since you’re an intern already, this will have to do.”

You slip out some papers from the bottom of the stack. “Since you mentioned having problems about making computations, you’re going to need to understand them first.” You slide the paper closer to him, “That means going through past company trends.” 

The paper is then added to the pile, “Additionally, it’s better for you to get more hands-on experience. That’s the best way to learn and many employees only tend to understand after they get the experience. And that’s why‒” 

You point over to the empty cubicle next to you, opposite to the side Yoongi works at, “That’s going to be yours.” 

You pause, focusing on him now, “Make sense?”

He slowly nods, lips pursed and a crease forming between his brows. You take it as an answer and hope that the change of routine would be helpful somehow, but when you move to head over to Hoseok’s office for any more training manuals he has to spare, you don’t notice the speck of fear that’s entered his eyes. 

Rising onto your feet, you swerve, and he’s left alone.

As he stares at all the papers and tasks before him, he can’t help but think there’s something completely different about you from the start of his training. Before you were merely annoyed with his antics and would take any opportunity to quip back something at him.

But now, now it’s like you’ve taken charge of everything and there’s no place he can run.

Raising your hand, a knock resonates against the door.

It comes swinging open in second, a tired yet still cheerful Hoseok emerging out.

At the sight of you, he warmly smiles, “Oh, hi Y/N. Did you need something?”

“Some training manuals.” You reminisce, “I managed to only grab a couple from HR this morning but I wanted to ask if there’s anymore I could just borrow for the time being.”

“Of course.”

Hoseok widens the door to his office and you slip in, watching him look around the room and pull out some drawers. It takes him a couple of minutes before he can locate them, and he hands them over with a smile.

“I’m assuming these are for Seokjin?” 

“Yeah…” You sigh, “I’m sure Taehyung’s already told you the news.”

He frowns, recalling seeing the man working at his cubicle alone, “You mean the good news for him?”

You chuckle at that, “It is what it is. I’m just here hoping I can do a good enough job with this role.”

You wonder if the tension if evident on your feature, because Hoseok replies with‒

“Hey, don’t stress out too much about it.” He says, the corner of his mouth tugging, “I mean, you were right in the way. Even if Seokjin’s supposed to become the new CEO, he’s just another employee like the rest of us.” 

You hum, “Besides, if there’s anyone I can see doing his training, it’s you. You should have seen the state Taehyung was in after a day.” 

A chuckle escapes you from that, and Hoseok warmly smiles. 

Retrieving the manuals, you exit his office and head back to your cubicle.

The first thing that catches your eyes is the way Seokjin is slumped against his desk, his head turned down and brows furrowed as he stares at the stack of papers before him.

“Any luck?”

His eyes snap up in an instant, “Oh, uh, yeah….” An angelic smile forecasts over him, “It’s starting to make more sense now.”

You smile with a knowing look, “You know, you have to work on it seriously.” 

His face pales, but you simply gesture towards the paperwork before turning to your monitor. 

At being caught, Seokjin lets out a deep sigh.

It’s difficult for him to explain. Even though he thankfully isn’t expected to do the same volume of work as before and the work you’ve given him isn’t necessarily the hardest (actually, it looks a lot simpler than before), his focus is fleeting and drifting elsewhere. 

He highly doubts he’s even at the standard compared to all the people in the cubicles surrounding him. 

Lifting his head, he peers up in your direction.

You were in the middle of a conversation with Yoongi now, saying something about statistics that he truthfully can’t understand. Yoongi hums, listening attentively to your words.

He narrows his eyes.

The change in you was something he wasn’t expecting either. He wasn’t worried at first, but you seem to be as strict as some of the Managers here and might possibly get even more so as time passes. 

And the more confined he is, the more it makes him want to get out.

“Is the forecast okay?” You’re leaning against his cubicle, eyes running through the report Yoongi had given you.

He hums, “The totals make sense and your report has the same inputs as mine.”

A lengthy sigh leaves you, “Good to know I managed to get some work done right.”

“The report is good, Y/N.” Yoongi chides and you faintly smile at him.

“Y/N.”

The commanding voice snaps you out of your thoughts, Soyou standing before you with an intent look in her eyes. “Do you have a moment?” 

“Yes, of course.” You quickly state, following her into her office. Glancing warily back, Yoongi sends you a thumbs up and you hold in your breath. 

You know why Soyou wants to speak with you, and you’ll have to give it your all to impress her. 

She gestures for you to sit down, crossing her legs as she sits across from you. 

Soyou cuts to the chase, “How has it been going with Mr. Kim?” 

“He’s been picking up on his training,” You explain, willing your shaky voice, “I’ve assessed that he needs to adapt to the workplace, as well as familiarize himself according to the departments.” 

Soyou hums and you continue, “I believe it would be best for him to understand the company’s inner workings first and foremost, such as getting information from the training manuals first before applying them.” 

“I’ve also ensured that he works alongside me so that I can assist him in any way I can.” 

“What is your opinion on his working capabilities?” She lifts a pen, tapping it against her notebook. 

“There’s potential for his future employment.” You truthfully state, “However, I can observe he will need more time than what is mandated for an intern.” 

“I see…” She leans forward, clasping her hands together, “Can I trust you to complete his entire training, Y/N?” 

“Of course.” You confidently say, “I will see to it that he is integrated into the workplace.” 

“Good.” Soyou stands up, as do you, “There’s a meeting happening in the conference room soon.” 

You nod, understanding she needed to promptly leave. 

Heading back to your cubicle, you notice Hoseok leaning against Yoongi’s cubicle. 

“Everything go smoothly?” Hoseok wonders, and even Yoongi turns away from his monitor, watching your reaction. 

You nod, “It would seem so, she was checking in on Seokjin’s training and by the looks of it, seems happy with what I’m doing.” 

“That sounds good.” You hum at Hoseok’s comment, ready to resume back to your work. 

Unfortunately, your mindset is cut short. 

“Hey….” A deep frown mars your features, the uncertainty drawing Yoongi and Hoseok’s attention, “Has anyone seen Seokjin?” 

“What do you mean?” Hoseok asks, “I thought he was taking a break.” 

“He was just getting started.” You respond, glancing around to see if you could possibly spot the man anywhere. 

It’s when you’re beginning to debate asking the front desk about his whereabouts that Yoongi places a hand against your shoulder. 

“He was wearing a gray suit with a black tie, right?”

Eyes widening, you nod right away.

“Uh, Y/N–” Hoseok’s peering out the window, squinting his eyes. “I think I’ve got some pretty bad news.” 

Before you have a chance to ask, he looks away from the window and then at you. 

“I think Seokjin ran away.”

You appear flabbergasted, tone pitching higher. “What do you mean he ‘ran away’?”

He gestures to the glass, “Take a look for yourself.”

You swiftly walk over, peering through the transparent material. You notice a handful of individuals outside of the building, but your eyes narrow in on how Seokjin is one of them, doing occasional and nervous-filled double takes as he waits for the light across the street to turn red.

You’re at a loss for words.

“Am I…” Your confusion morphs into horror, “Am I supposed to go after him?”

“That’s Seokjin, alright,” Yoongi mutters from behind you. “And I guess so.”

Your eyes flicker between Yoongi and Hoseok, who seems to be both suspended in shock and disbelief as you. 

Taking one quick glance at the promised work you were hoping to complete, you let out a long sigh and rush to grab your coat.

This definitely wasn’t part of your job description. 

***

Deep breaths escape your form.

It wasn’t too long ago that Hoseok and Yoongi had graciously discovered that your intern had run off the one moment you weren’t watching over him and it’s led you on a wild goose hunt just to locate him.

You’ve looked everywhere. Across the street from where you last saw him. Near the building you were and even accompanying shops you suspected he might have slipped into.

Which was perhaps the worst part of it all. Not only can you not comprehend why Seokjin would simply just run off like that, you have no clue where he could have tried to escape to.

Not until you land on a particular café.

Your eyes widen. 

Seokjin sits in one of the booths, engaged in conversation with one of the waiters.

You don’t take a second longer to enter, pushing against the door that jingles on your arrival. Seokjin turns around at the sound with a smile, but the colour completely drains from his features.

He lets out a blood-curdling scream. 

To be fair, you’ve been running around a lot and it’s caused your appearance to be just a bit disheveled. 

Aka you’re hunched over and wheezing, hair falling down like you’ve just walked out of some horror movie. 

“Who are you?!” He asks in defense. 

“Can you stop yelling for a minute?” You look up annoyed, brushing your hair away. 

Seokjin calms down immediately, sheepishly laughing. 

“Oh, hi Y/N….” 

“Hi.” You answer back sarcastically, walking towards him, “You know, I have nothing against physical activity, but no one ever told me that I’d have to hunt down the CEO’s son.” 

He immediately rises from his seat, but you raise your hand in an attempt to stop him. 

“Don’t.”

He knows, he knows you’re here to haul him back into that boring office, chide him for running away in the place and potentially, even tell one of higher ups of the situation he’s caused. However, all thoughts go completely out the window when you choose to sit opposite from him in the booth instead.

You ask him a question that has his eyes rounding.

“What did you order?”

It’s almost like he’s lost the will to speak in the moment until reality finally snaps him back in. “Uh, just their famous latte….”

You nod, gesturing the waitress over and requesting for another latte. Settling into your seat, you take your coat off and peer around the café.

At your silence, Seokjin curiously pipes up.

“So I’m taking that I can stay…?”

You cross your arms, “We’ll leave after the drinks get here.” 

“But it’s really nice here.” He persuades, “And besides, when do you get the chance to be at such a nice café with such a dashing young ma–“

You're glaring at him and he quickly clears his throat, “I mean, technically, this is a break…”

You scoff, “Are you really trying to justify running away?”

“Yes.” He answers right away.

You’re extremely reluctant at the moment. You’ve had to run around for a while and search for him like your life depended on it, oddly wondering why on earth you went from being promoted from a part-time mentor to a full-time one.

But it’s clear to you that Seokjin truly dislikes being in the office, so you’re wondering if maybe being outside from it might be useful.

“Five minutes.”

“What?”

“You get five minutes.” You state, “Then we have to go back.”

He sighs in relief and finally relaxes. It’s not long before your drinks arrive and you take the steaming mug right away.

“I’m curious.” You say after a moment of silence, sipping down on your cup.

He glances up intrigued, “Do you have a business degree?”

The cup in his hand nearly falls.

He loudly scoffs, as if offended, “Of course I have a business degree!”

“Hm. Impressive.”

For some reason, he finds that the sarcastic tone you use means quite the opposite.

“Seriously, what kind of opinion do you have of me?” 

“Well, you did make quite the impression when I met you at the office.” You point out. "And you just ran away from the office too." You want to mentally add, but hold back in case he tries again. 

Seokjin leans back, “That wasn’t even the first time you met me.”

“The first time I met you, you were a completely different person.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, you seemed a lot shyer back then.” Your head shakes, “Definitely the complete opposite of now–“

“I think the words you’re looking for are irresistibly confident.”

“ –almost like the person I met in the past was like a twin or something–“

“Unfortunately, the world’s been blessed with only one of me.”

You pause, a deadpan expression crossing you as you move on, “Anyways, I would have never guessed you were the CEO’s son.”

You’re prepared for Seokjin to rebuttal with a lengthy exposition of some proud characteristic of his in response, but the conversation dips into an abrupt silence.

You frown and though he smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, you’re not the first person to say that.”

For a moment, the silence takes over and you’re almost tempted to change the topic or bring light to something else, but then he continues.

“And you’re right, by the way. I’ve changed a lot.” There’s a giant mischievous grin on his features, “Improved on my already amazing qualities, if I do may say.”

You have the urge to eye roll at that, “But being the CEO’s son...that’s something I never got a choice in.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“I see….”

His voice increases in volume, “Besides, even if I wasn’t the CEO’s son, I still think you would be pretty lucky to be here sitting across from me.”

You don’t even hesitate to let the sarcasm leak in with a smile, “Sure…”

A loud alarm blares through the air and Seokjin jolts back from the sound. You take out your phone and swipe at the screen, instantly rising onto your feet.

“Alright, break time’s over.” You clap your hands, “Back to work.”

His jaw drops, “You set a timer?!”

“I said ten minutes, right?” You grin, “Now come on, I’m not in the mood to chase you down a second time.”

Seokjin playfully rolls his eyes, but nonetheless follows after you.

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