#bwcssy2

[shuadotcom]

When You’re Mad | KTH & JJK (M)

✨ Summary: The plan is to spend Christmas break just you and your boyfriend, but when his best friend, whom you hate, joins you, you anticipate to spend your first day off being irritated. You are very, very wrong. ✨ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader x Taehyung ✨ Genre: Smut, porn with a smidge of a plot, enemies to lovers if you squint, college au, established relationship ✨ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) ✨Warnings: Threesome, dom!Taehyung, switch!Jungkook, sub!reader, oral (m & f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, cursing, mention of alcohol ✨ Word Count: 3.8k ✨ A/N: Surprise and Merry (belated) Christmas, Nikki @baepsaesbae​​! It is I, your Secret Santa Twinkle✨  for @bwcsecretsanta​! I loved chatting with you and getting to know you! This fic came to me in a dream and then I listened to When You’re Mad by Ne-Yo almost repeatedly to keep me inspired, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. ❤️ Huge thank you to Dae @birbdae​ for reading this over for me 💖

The silence of campus is made even more apparent with the thick blanket of snow on the ground. The walk to your dorm from the building that houses the laundry room is a near lonely one, but you don't mind. You don’t get snow back home, so being able to see the way the snowflakes glisten around you is almost magical, even if it is the aftermath of a blizzard.

The sound of your boots crunching as you walk echoes around you as you adjust the laundry basket on your hip. Most students on campus have gone home for the week in preparation for the holidays, which leaves just you and a handful of others, which also means you didn’t have to fight over any of the machines.

Your phone rings in your pocket, cutting through the calming atmosphere, and you fumble to answer it.

“Hey, babe!” Your boyfriend’s voice rings through the speaker before you even greet him.

“Hey, Kook. On your way back?”

“Yeah…” he trails off, and you know he has more to say.

“Yeah, what?”

“Well, the trains stopped running because of the snow. Whenever they can clear the tracks, they'll be moving again, but no telling when that’ll be, especially since it’s supposed to snow more later. This means Tae’s coming back with me.” You’re frowning so hard at his words you wonder if he can feel it over the line.

“Babe,” his tone tells you that he already knows what you’re thinking.

“You promised we’d play Among Us when you got back!”

“We can still do that! Tae plays too.”

“No, now I don’t wanna play anymore,” you pout.

“Come on, don’t be like that, Y/n.”

Knowing how much Jungkook strives to keep the peace when you complain about Taehyung, you drop it. “Fine. I’ll be in my room when you get here. Drive safe.” You hang up before he can respond and stomp to your building, your serenity having been ripped away from you.

Taehyung is Jungkook’s best friend and, simultaneously, your least favorite person. You and Jungkook have been dating for two years since you both started college. He and Taehyung became best friends a year into your relationship when he was assigned as his new roommate, and never once have the two of you got along.

It started with small things. You and Taehyung have a couple of the same classes together, and he always seems to try and one-up you. If you answer an equation in front of everyone in math class, he makes sure to correct you on a part you may have missed or could’ve done better. If he is chosen to give a presentation after you in your shared public speaking class, he goes above and beyond what you did before him.

From there, it was trivial things such as cutting in front of you in lines or taking the last of something in the cafeteria. He always speaks with an air of arrogance that burrows under your skin, and you’re always one snide remark away from punching him in his chiseled jaw.

Jungkook laughs it off anytime you mention it, assuring you that Taehyung likes you a lot and isn’t your sworn enemy. You’re not sure what conversations they have when you aren’t around, but you’re not convinced that Taehyung isn’t just a colossal asshole. You already know today is going to be rough.

By the time Jungkook and Taehyung get to your dorm room, your laundry is folded and put away. You’re sprawled on your bed, more than halfway through The Nightmare Before Christmas, and on your first spiked hot cocoa. You’d need a little something if you were going to deal with Taehyung for the rest of the day.

Jungkook sets the plastic bags in his hands on your desk and leans over to kiss you. He smells the kahlua in your cup and takes it from your hands, taking a sip. “Aw, babe, you got started without us.”

“You know where my stash is,” you shrug, trying not to show your aggravation while Taehyung inspects your small bookshelf. You can practically feel him judging your reading taste without him saying anything.

Jungkook, oblivious to the vibe you’re giving off, moves to open the bags he brought, unpacking various snacks, then making himself a drink and offering Taehyung one, which he accepts.

“Does this even count as a Christmas movie?” Taehyung muses, taking a seat on one side of you.

“What?” You frown at him, and he shrugs, clearly unbothered by the dirty look you’re shooting him.

“I mean, isn’t it more of a Halloween movie? Jack only spends time in Christmas town for a bit, and he has that song about the town, but it isn’t very Christmas-y.”

“It can be for both holidays,” you deadpan.

“Eh, I disagree. It's not even-”

“I don’t care what you think. The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween!” The tone of your voice is shrill and laced with irritation. Taehyung blinks at you in response, caught off guard by your outburst.

Jungkook cuts the tension with a loud clearing of his throat and calls Taehyung’s name to hand him his hot cocoa. “I think we should just finish the movie, and then we can do something else. Does that work?” Your boyfriend suggests, doing his best to play the peacemaker.

“No, you know what, I want to know what your deal is,” you start, glaring at Taehyung with all of the fire you can muster.

“Y/n, why don’t we just-”

“No, Jungkook. I want him to tell me right now what his issue with me is. It’s been like a year, and all he does is antagonize me, and I’m sick of it! I thought I’d get to enjoy Christmas break spending time with only my boyfriend, but you’re here in my room being the usual thorn in my goddamn side! I deserve to know why you spend so much time pissing me off!” You finish your rant, huffing, and looking as intimidating as possible at Taehyung.

His jaw clenches as his mind is working, presumably coming up with an excuse for his behavior. He shares a look with Jungkook behind you, and you whip around and see your boyfriend nod.

Taehyung lets out a sigh. “I just like messing with you and getting you riled up. It’s fun.” He says simply.

“What?!”

“You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

It was your turn to stare at him blankly, your brain trying to make sense of his words. He’s been fucking with you for an entire year just for fun?

“Is this a joke?” You finally question, and he shakes his head. Remembering the nod Jungkook gave him earlier, you turn to him. “And you knew?”

Looking sheepish, Jungkook nods. “I mean, I told you he liked you and that he didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Frowning, you look between the two men, still at a loss. “I don’t know what to say. You embarrass me in class and talk over me and make fun of shit I like because you think I’m sexy? What is this, elementary school? Gonna put dirt in my hair next?”

Taehyung’s honeyed skin flushes a dark shade of red, and you think it’s the first time you’ve seen him anything other than confident and cocky. “Well, when you say it like that, yeah, it sounds really dumb.”

Deflated, you plop back onto your bed. You had gotten so heated in your earlier outburst that you ended up kneeling on the mattress, poised and ready to fight.

“Unbelievable,” you murmur. You pick up your mug that you at least thought to hand to Jungkook beforehand and down the rest of it in one gulp.

The three of you watch the remainder of the movie in silence, with Jungkook nursing his hot cocoa and Taehyung barely paying attention, scrolling through his phone instead. You keep going back to the idea that Taehyung thought it was a good idea to be a dick to you simply to get you mad for his own pleasure. Knowing it wasn’t done with ill intent does make you feel a little better, and the more you ruminate on it, you shift from being pissed off to oddly flattered.

Once the credits roll on the movie, you grab your laptop in search of another holiday movie. Jungkook speaks first, his words sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. “So, are we going to do anything with this information?”

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you look over at him. “What do you mean? What would we do?”

“Well...I mean, Taehyung admitted that he thinks you're attractive, and he and I have talked before about the three of us, uh, you know.”

You turn to face him fully. “Are you telling me you’ve discussed us having a threesome with him?”

“Yes?” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck nervously, eyes darting between you and Taehyung.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Taehyung offers up, his usual arrogance back in his tone.

“And to be fair, babe, there was that time like a month ago when we were drinking, and you admitted to wanting to cross a threesome off of your bucket list.” Jungkook points out. “I even asked if you had anyone in mind, and Taehyung was on your list.”

“I was?” Taehyung perks up even more interested in the current conversation.

“I-I was just-I…” You don’t know what to say. Both men are looking at you expectantly, and you don’t have a rebuttal ready. Yes, you remember that drunken conversation you and Jungkook had, and yes, Taehyung is on your list because, as terrible as he previously behaved, he’s still insanely good-looking. The possibility of a threesome was very realistic in college, so it was just a matter of time before the opportunity arose, but nowhere in this life or any other did you think it’d actually be Taehyung that offered.

Jungkook’s gaze softens, his hand reaching for yours to rub circles over your knuckles. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, babe.”

You offer your boyfriend a smile and grip his hand. “I don’t feel pressured, Koo. I’m just really surprised by all of this. Today took a complete turn than what I anticipated.”

“I can leave if you want, Y/n.” Taehyung’s hand covers your knee, and he sounds genuinely considerate. His coffee-colored orbs are soft as they scan your face, and his hand is warm through your denim. It takes less than a minute before you decide that you’ve nothing to lose. It’s nearly Christmas, it’s a blizzard outside, the dorms are virtually deserted, and the three of you have little to do, so why not?

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Both men question simultaneously.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he comprehends your consent and shares a look with Taehyung. They communicate telepathically in front of you, stirring up annoyance in you again.

Before either of them make a move, you grab Taehyung’s face and pull him into a kiss. He goes rigid only momentarily, and then his hands are on you, pulling you to straddle his lap. His lips are different from Jungkook’s as the hunger behind them is much more frantic. His large hands squeeze your waist forcing a moan out. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, immediately taking control. Taehyung is kissing you so hard it feels as though he’ll devour you, and it’s only serving to make you wetter.

Nearly forgetting your boyfriend was in the room, he reminds you of his presence when you feel his familiar lips on your neck, going straight for the sensitive spot under your ear and sucking harshly. You let out a whimper, and Taehyung breaks the kiss, immediately going to the other side of your neck and biting down.

“Fuck!” You shout at the sensation, then melt into both of their holds. Having two pairs of lips on either side of you drives you crazy, and you haven’t even gotten to the best part.

Without warning, both men pull away, and Taehyung is flipping you onto your back, your body bouncing on the mattress. His long, slender fingers work on the button of your jeans while Jungkook’s hands pull your shirt over your head.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to taste you,” Taehyung speaks into your thigh as he kisses each part of your skin he exposes. “Jungkook always talks about how sweet you are, and I need to find out for myself.” You think you should chastise Jungkook for so openly talking about your sex life, but you can only focus on Taehyung's soft lips that are now kissing your mound through your panties.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it, baby?" Jungkook's voice is heavy in your ear, fingers tugging on both of your nipples.

“Yes,” you whimper as Taehyung finally peels your panties off and begins blowing on your core.

"How many times have you thought about this? Me letting someone else eat you out while I watch?" Jungkook’s tone is teasing as he ducks down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

At the same time, Taehyung's lips attach to your clit. He wastes no time sucking on the sensitive bud, sending a spark through your entire body. The suckling sounds he and Jungkook are making have your thighs shaking as you let out a moan loud enough for anyone walking by to hear.

“Fuck, you sound just as sexy as I knew you would.” Taehyung groans as his mouth moves lower, his tongue plunging inside of you. He fucks you with his tongue a few times before he replaces it with his fingers. His mouth goes back to your clit while he fingers you, his fingertips brushing your g-spot every so often.

"Fuck, Taehyung!" His eyes, half-lidded, meet your unfocused ones. He locks onto your gaze as his fingers press deeper, and his mouth sucks harder. Jungkook’s teeth bite harshly on one of your tits, bringing your attention to him. Your eyes meet next as you watch him suck a bright red mark onto your skin, and he offers you a smirk.

Noticing he is still fully dressed when you reach to touch him, you frown. “Off.” You demand, pulling on the fabric of his top. Wordlessly, Jungkook obeys and pulls his hoodie over his head. You marvel at his body as he pulls his jeans off next and your mouth nearly waters at the familiar sight of his hard cock poking out the top of his boxers.

Taehyung pulls your concentration back to him with a particularly hard suck that has your thighs quivering. In a matter of seconds, you’re cumming with one of your hands reaching down to tangle in Taehyung's dark hair and the other clutching Jungkook's strong, bare thigh.

You let out a few more cries as Taehyung cleans up the mess between your thighs. When he pulls away, he shoots you the most sinfully sweet smile as his chin glistens with your juices.

“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good.” He groans. He licks his lips repeatedly, savoring your flavor.

The sight of him has you rubbing your thighs together, already feeling more wetness pool between your legs, yearning to cum again. As if reading your mind, Jungkook grabs your legs to open them back up and moves so that he’s next to Taehyung and between your legs.

"I need to fuck you so bad, baby." Jungkook’s eyes are wild as he scans your still panting form. The sight of his best friend making you cum sent him into a craze, and he was painfully hard.

"Make her use her words, Jungkookie. She has to tell us what she wants." Taehyung demands as he shimmies out of his pants and sweater.

"You know what I want," you beg. You bite your lip and spread your legs further, giving both men a view of your dripping pussy. Jungkook inhales sharply, looking as though he’ll bite his lip so hard he’ll break the skin. Taehyung’s still persistent, his face remaining stoic as he takes in the state of you.

"I wanna hear you say it. Tell us what you want, princess." Taehyung is already out of his underwear and stroking himself. Your eyes follow every flick of his wrist and twist of his hand, aching to touch him too. He’s thicker than Jungkook but just as impressive in length. You can almost feel every visible vein and ridge as you squirm in anticipation, watching him open and roll a condom on.

"Please, please fuck me. I need your cocks so bad!" You know you sound needy and desperate, but you don’t care. Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Taehyung, who gives him a nod.

"I’ll be the one fucking you first." Taehyung begins, grabbing hold of your hips and flipping you over onto your stomach. Jungkook scurries off of the bed and walks around to the other side to stand in front of you. "While I do that, you're gonna suck Jungkookie’s dick. Can you do that, princess?"

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes.” You chant, wiggling your hips for him. Jungkook rubs the head of his cock against your willing lips before slipping as far as he can fit into your mouth. His head falls back, and a throaty groan escapes him, resonating throughout the room.

Taehyung's hand strikes each of your cheeks twice, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. With each smack, you let out squeals that send vibrations throughout Jungkook's body. While you’re no stranger to being spanked, the feeling of a warm hand other than Jungkook's colliding with your soft skin was different and exciting.

"Tae, you need to hurry up. I can't hold it much longer." Jungkook says to this best friend through gritted teeth. He’s embarrassingly close, but having watched you cum once already, he can barely contain himself.

The older man quickly obliges, running his fingers down your back as he rams inside of you. The obscene squelching sound your pussy makes when Taehyung begins fucking into you is embarrassing yet still manages to turn you even more. The stretch from Taehyung’s girth is nearly painful, but the amount of pleasure outweighs this, so you welcome it, pushing yourself back to allow Taehyung to shove himself deeper.

Finding a rhythm that pleases all of you is difficult at first. Taehyung keeps thrusting forward at the same time as Jungkook, which throws them both off. You are the one to take charge, keeping one arm on the bed to balance yourself while using the other hand to grasp Jungkook's thigh. Every time you push yourself back against Taehyung, you pull Jungkook forward, instantly making the movements more fluid.

Once moving in tandem, they pick up the pace at which they’re fucking into you, being spurred on by the increasing pitch and volume of your wails. You hardly have any coherent thoughts other than the blissful feeling of both of these men on you like this.

Taehyung's blunt nails dug into your ass as his hips snap impossibly faster, and you struggle to keep your mouth around Jungkook, who is nearing his climax. Your mouth is too warm, and your tongue is doing too many things for him to hold it any longer.

"Baby, p-please, can I cum on your face?" You nod, letting his cock fall from your lips and keeping your mouth open while he desperately jerks himself off over your face. Taehyung takes this opportunity to reach around and let his fingers toy with your clit as he fucks you sloppier than before.

“Cum with me, princess,” he practically growls, the pad of his finger working your clit rougher.

Jungkook cums first into your open mouth, some of it spurting onto your cheeks and chin. When you take his softening cock into your mouth to milk the rest of his orgasm from him, he nearly screams, his fingers digging into your shoulders to keep himself from toppling over.

“Y/n, shit, I’m going to cum,” is all Taehyung says before filling the condom inside you, bruising your hips with the iron grip he has on you.

Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire and trembles uncontrollably as you cum last, shrieking the names of both men as you claw at the bedsheets under you.

The only sound heard once you calm down is the heavy breathing of all three of you. Jungkook crawls onto your bed, collapsing first. After Taehyung pulls out of you and steps away to throw the condom away, you join Jungkook in a heap. He pulls you into his arms and places a kiss on your sweaty forehead.

"How was that? Did it fulfill your wildest fantasies? Good enough to cross off your bucket list?"

"It was better than anything I could've imagined. Neither of you disappointed." You give him a lazy smile before turning over completely to look at Taehyung, seeing him standing by the trash can, unsure of where to be. "You can come over here if you want. You don’t have to stand over there like a creep.” Taehyung lets out a nervous laugh and squishes himself onto the twin bed with the two of you, his long leg draping over both you and Jungkook. “How was that for you?" You ask once he’s settled.

"Eh, it was pretty good. I could offer you a few pointers.” He shrugs, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“Are you shitting me right now?” You scoff at him, your usual irritability creeping in.

“Y/n, I’m kidding. It was fucking mind-blowing.” He explains when he sees your expression. “There goes that frown I like to see.” Taehyung gives you the first genuine smile you think you’ve ever received from him.

The three of you lie in silence before Jungkook is once again, the first to speak. “So...I was thinking.”

“That’s a first.” Taehyung mumbles. You can’t help the giggle that slips out at the jab.

“Anyway,” Jungkook continues, choosing to ignore the comment. “I thought that since it’s still early afternoon and we have nothing but time, why not try to cross off some other fantasies on our lists together?”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” You’re suspicious but want to hear it anyway.

“Well, that time we were talking about threesomes, remember when I said double penetration could be super hot?” He flashes you his big, round doe eyes, and you cave almost immediately.

“Fine. Grab the lube.” You wave him to your bedside table, and he nearly falls off the bed in the process. Taehyung’s fingers begin trailing up your thigh as he presses into your side, already half-hard and kissing the shell of your ear.

If this blizzard doesn’t let up soon, you anticipate that you’re in for a very busy week.

#bwcssy2 #btsnoonanet #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #bantanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanuniversity #bangtanstation #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #magicshopnet #thebtsficarchive #thebtswritersclub #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk smut #taehyung x jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #jeongguk fic

[joheun-saram]

alive (jjk)

Summary- Jungkook was the perfect boyfriend for two years, and then two months ago something changed. It was like a switch had been flipped and he’d gone from doting to distant. For the life of you, you could not figure out what happened, and you hated it

word count- 4.3k

pairing- nonidol!Jungkook x Reader (feat. Namjoon)

rating- R

genre- angst, smut

warnings- explicit smut (including fingering), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends), sad sex, talks of depression and anxiety, talks of therapy, character death, car accident

a.n- First off a huge thank you to the brilliant Tailia @namyoongles​ for the banner! Isn’t it beautiful. Second, this is part of @btswriterscollective​ secret santa project and I’m so excited to reveal that I’m indeed @therealmintedmango​‘s secret santa 🎅🏼I had such a great time getting to know you this month Mango and I really hope you enjoy all the angst in this fic! Happy holidays, love! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“Well if you can’t even talk to me, maybe we should just end this!” you screamed, your lungs aching as you looked at your boyfriend on the couch next to you, the room falling into a charged silence. It had been the same fight for months. The same constant back and forth. You would try to broach the topic but he would close off. Every time. His expression was neutral as he looked at you, his doe eyes betraying his defeat as he sighed.

Jungkook was the perfect boyfriend for two years, and then two months ago something changed. It was like a switch had been flipped and he’d gone from doting to distant. For the life of you, you could not figure out what happened, and you hated it. You hated how it seemed to bring all your insecurities to the surface and clawed at your emotions till they were raw. From the corner of your eye you saw Namjoon looking at you sadly, disappointed, before shaking his head at you and disappearing round the corner. You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you looked at your boyfriend, who sat in silence at your outburst.

Jungkook had always been quiet, introverted, and this cloud of mystery was one of the things that made him so unbelievably attractive, but now it was the worst thing about him. You didn’t expect this fight to escalate, you didn’t expect these words to come out, but now that they were you wanted him to react. Needed him to react. Needed just anything more than the stoic expression marring his features. 

“Maybe we should…” Jungkook spoke softly, after what seemed like hours. It wasn’t what you were expecting and it only caused your anger to flare. He was seriously going to just throw away everything? 

You looked at him next to you as he seemed to have moved further away. You’re not sure if he actually did or your mind was playing tricks on you again, but the seat cushion between you seemed to stretch for miles, Jungkook getting smaller in the horizon. 

“You’re not even going to fight for us? You’re going to walk away?” You didn’t care that you were raising your voice, and that the one tear from earlier was now a flood cascading down your features. Maybe it was your fate. You never thought you deserved happiness and this was just another nail in your ever growing collection. You had spent your life chasing after that elusive ray of joy, only for you to get too comfortable when you reached it and it disappeared as soon as it appeared, throwing you into the darkness once again. 

It figures that this happiness would vanish too. You wanted to reach out and shake Jungkook. Why did he have to change? Why did he have to do this to you? 

“What did I do? What happened?” you asked, your voice small, as you looked at him staring at his hands in his lap. His long wavy hair fell into his eyes, and the longer he sat there in silence, the louder your heart crumbled. “Say something!” you exclaimed, followed by a quieter “Please…”

“What do you want me to say Y/N? You’re the one who wants to end us.” Jungkook finally looks at you, his lips pressed together as his tongue pokes lightly to the inside of his cheek. You’d seen this look before, but never directed at you. It was cold and made your skin pebble, made fresh tears stream down your face.

“Because you changed! Because you hate me!” you yelled indignitedly as he sighs once again. He lifts his head slightly as he looks at you, his eyes glassy.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispers quietly, the words floating in the tension in the air.

“Then why are you avoiding me? Why haven’t you said a full sentence to me these past two months?”

“Because…” He looks away again staring straight ahead at the blank wall of his living room and you can’t help but move closer, wiping your eyes to see him clearer.

“No. You can’t do your stupid quiet guy shit right now! I need to know!” You pull at his shoulder to make him look at you and as he does, his hand finds yours, holding it gently. His eyes swim with the love you’ve come to expect from him but it's tinged with an overwhelming sadness, a sadness that droops his features even though he tries to school them into a small smile on your behalf.

“It’s not your fault, okay?” He is still whispering, his hand squeezing yours as the other fidgets with the untied string of his sweatpants.

“What’s not my fault? Please Kook. Please talk to me!” You remove your hand from his and cup his face in both of yours, needing more, anything to help clear the haze in your head.

“I can’t.” His voice louder, he pulls your hands away from his face as he goes to stand up and you grab at his legs to stop him.

“Why not?!”

“Because you’ve never loved me and I had to find out when you were drunk!” Jungkook yells. He never yells, not at you anyway, but it’s not his volume that stuns you, it’s the words echoing through the small studio apartment. Words that make you freeze, dropping your hands from him as you feel the breath knocked out of your lungs.

“What?”

“That night after the club. While I was taking care of you. Me!” He points at his chest, his eyes ablaze as he continues. “Making sure that you didn’t get puke on your hair or fall or get hurt, you looked at me and do you know what you asked me?” His shoulders fall as he quietens once again, sighing and running his hands through his hair. His face distorts into one of heartbreak as he says the next words, his tone even and calm. “‘Why don’t I love you as much as him?’ And here I was like an idiot believing you every time you said you loved me”

You stand at his words. That wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. You remember that night. Not most of it but you know yourself enough to know you would never say that to him, not after he had worked so hard to put you back together again. Jungkook wasn’t your soulmate, you didn’t believe in those anymore, but Jungkook was your rock, your best friend. He was there when you couldn’t get out of bed for days. He was there when you didn’t know how to stop crying. He was always there. And you loved him.

“I do love you. Jungkook, please!” You grab his hands, holding them tightly as if he would disappear too. You looked at him desperately, trying to convey your feelings through your gaze, but all you found in him was defeat. 

“I just can’t do this anymore. You’re right. I can’t compete with a ghost… not anymore.” He sighed again as his lip quivered. It stuttered your breath and you felt your chest tightened. You couldn’t lose him, not after Namjoon. As you felt the panic rising, the drunk haze of two months ago came into focus, spiking your adrenaline and paling your face.

You danced to the loud EDM pulsing through the club as neon lights flashed across your skin, setting your white dress aglow. Jungkook was pressed against your back as his lips ghosted the skin of your neck, his hands grazing your hips as he pulled you closer. You hadn’t felt this content in years, the tequila warming your veins in a sweet comfort as your boyfriend’s hips moved against yours, your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

You missed this. Missed going dancing and drinking because it was fun and not because you were trying to forget. Surrounded by your friends, you smiled as you opened your eyes, finally happy. Until you saw him and your heart dropped, making you freeze.

Namjoon smiled at you from the bar, the sweet dimpled smile that creased his eyes into crescents as he waved. How was he here? How was he back?

You felt your heart kickstart as you pushed Jungkook off you and raced to the bar. You’d apologize to him later, but you needed Namjoon right now. Needed to feel him in your arms, needed to smell his calming scent, and so like an addict you raced through the club looking for one more hit. When you reached the bar, he wasn’t there anymore and the sheer weight of disappointment made you sob. You felt a pair of strong arms surround you and the familiar smell of bergamot and vanilla encased your senses, pulling you closer into a firm chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” A soft voice asked as you looked at Jungkook’s worry filled eyes. You hated that you were doing this again. It had been almost a year since this happened, and your mind felt numb as you grasped Jungkook’s black shirt.

“He was here! Kook he was here!” you exclaimed, your loud voice carrying over the music. You were sure you looked deranged, mascara running down your cheeks, lipstick smeared where it met Jungkook’s shirt, as you desperately cling to him. He looks at you sadly before pulling you into his chest once again, holding you tight, his fingers running soothingly on your scalp.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry.” He repeated that phrase as he stroked your back, trying to calm you down as you continued sobbing and onlookers peered at the two of you curiously.

The memory of the night jolts you as you grab onto Jungkook’s shirt the same way you did at the club, looking at him pleadingly. His face blurred behind your tears as you yelled.

“I was with him for five years and he fucking died!” There’s no volume behind your words, only the distraught behind the truth you felt you were never ready to face. You weakly punched at Jungkook’s chest trying to make him understand your agony. But you didn’t need to try, he already knew, had lived through it with you.

“Yeah Namjoon died! But I’m here! I’m alive!” His voice was broken as the tears finally escaped his eyes. He grabbed your hand from where it was knocking against his chest and held it there. “You feel this? That’s my heart racing for you! How it always does! Because I love you.”

“Kook-”

Before you can say anything else, he grabs your face and crashes your lips together desperately, wanting you to feel just an ounce of what he felt for you. Your sinuses full of tears, your lungs burn as you pull him closer. You want him to consume you, make you forget again as you taste the salt of his tears. The overwhelming guilt breaks you more as his fingers move from your face to your waist, digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

Three years ago you never thought you would love someone again. You didn’t deserve to not when it was your fault you could never see Namjoon’s face again. Your fault that the world would never know what difference he would have made to it. But when you stood outside the funeral his parents had banned you from attending, arm in a cast and stitches on your forehead, caving into yourself from grief, Jungkook found you. Held you tight enough to stop you from breaking and told you it wasn’t your fault, that there was no way to have known that the 14 wheeler would run a red. And he reminded you everyday till you believed him, till your dreams no longer weaved your memories into nightmares, till you no longer saw Namjoon everywhere you looked. Till you felt worthy to love Jungkook back. 

When the air in your lung runs out, you pull away, but Jungkook pulls you closer, trailing his lips from your jaw to down your neck. He kisses you with fervor, nibbling the skin and soothing it with his tongue till you're moaning. You grip his hair and pull him back to your lips, his tongue caressing yours as your tears give way to the passion. Your heart stutters as his hands move to the back of your thighs and he effortlessly lifts you without leaving your lips, walking towards his bed. 

Amidst the kisses, he bumps into the bookshelf that separates his bed from the living room causing a few books to fall to the floor, the loud thud breaking the silence in the room. He ignores it as he tosses you on the bed, climbing over you as you look up at him. There are still tears in his eyes as he slows down and presses his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he says softly but the sadness in his eyes never gives way to the usual warmth. It feels like a goodbye and you feel another wave of grief wash over you. Why did you have to be like this? Why couldn't you give him what he needed when he gave you so much?

You cup his damp face and he leans into your hands, closing his eyes as you kiss him tenderly, hoping to convey how much you needed him. You pull at the hem of his shirt, running your hands under it, feeling the light shudder that goes through him as his skin pebbles. He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor as he kisses you again more urgently, his lips molding to yours, igniting a familiar fire in the pit of your stomach. He holds on to your face as if you would run away if he didn't.

You push gently against his chest and he looks up in alarm before you make him lie next to you and straddle his waist. You continue kissing him, trailing your lips over his neck, painting his golden chest red as the lump in your throat grows. Despite the tears still running steadily, you whisper 'I love you's, hoping he'd believe you, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself. 

He's right, you don't love him like you loved Namjoon. You don't think you can ever love anyone the way you loved him. Namjoon was your shelter amidst the rain, but Jungkook was the light amidst the darkness. It's different, it's incomparable. You never needed Namjoon the way you need Jungkook. Never woke up in the middle of the night relieved to find him still sleeping next to you. You had never depended on someone like you depended on Jungkook, and so, wasn't that love? Wasn't needing someone the same as you need oxygen, love? 

You trail your kisses lower, but before you could reach his waistband, he lifts your shirt pulling it off you, and with his arms circled tight around your waist he kisses you again. The two of you kiss for a while, relishing the feel of each other's skin, his grip tightening till you can't breathe. He's never like this, never this needy and your heart breaks as you realize that he still thinks he's competing.

You don't know if you're still crying, but you pull yourself up and stare at him. "Jungkook, I love you. I need you. Please-"

But before you can finish your sentence, he rolls the two of you over, pinning you under him as he pulls your shorts down your legs. You didn't mean this need, but you couldn't deny how wet his length hardened against you made you. He traces his fingers over your soaked panties, groaning into your mouth before pushing them aside and thrusting two fingers in. 

He swallows your moans as you arch into him. He sets a fast pace right from the start as his lips move to your chest. His mouth moves over your nipples, capturing one to tease it with his tongue, lapping at it furiously. He nips it lightly and you feel your whole body alight, leaving all your thoughts to tumble out of your head. All you see are the flashes of red behind your eyelids, all you hear is the sounds of his fingers thrusting in you, all you can feel is him as Jungkook does what he does best - make you forget.

“Want to make you forget. Want to make you mine,” he whispers against your chest, as he removes his fingers, pulling your panties off your legs as he takes his shorts and boxers off in a haze. You don’t know what’s going through his mind as he looks at you with a darkened gaze, his eyes roaming your body, before he kisses you again. It’s hard and rough, teeth clattering against each other, his tongue licking into you as you mewl.

His cock grinds against your clit as he kisses you and you can’t help the way your hips buck up against him. He looks up at that, a hand moving down to line himself up against you. “Please tell me you want me,” he pleads against your lips, and another tear rolls down your cheek as you nod vigorously before kissing him. Another wave of guilt rushes through you seeing your usually confident boyfriend pleading at you, and for the first time as he slowly sinks into you, you don’t think of Namjoon.

You gasp against his lips as he fully sheaths himself within you. “Jungkook… Kookie. Please… want you, need you.” He rewards your pleas by slowly pulling out and thrusting in again, gripping your waist tightly and bracing his knees against the bed to start rocking into you faster.

“I’m here. Me. Me. I’m the one here for you.” He repeats again and again, the mantra powering his thrusts, leaving you a moaning mess below him as he consistently hits the spot that makes you see stars. You wrap your legs around his waist, stuttering his name and holding tightly onto his forearms. You can feel your orgasm build up as you lose yourself in his touch, letting him move your body as he pulls you in each time his hips meet yours.

You tighten around him as you feel the high of your pleasure coursing through your veins. At the feeling, Jungkook moves forward, bracing his arms around your head, his forehead against yours as he commands you to open your eyes.

His eyes are glassy as he looks at you lost in pleasure like it’s the only thing he needs. He kisses you again, softly, a total juxtaposition to the hard movement of his hips that’s quickly tightening the coil in your stomach. His movements are sloppier now as he approaches his high as well, but he moves a hand down, fingers circling your clit.

“Cum for me, baby, please,” he moans as you lose yourself to the euphoria he provides. Jungkook watches your face contorted in pleasure as you writhe under him, finding his release soon after you.

You pull him closer, your arms tight around him, as he thrusts as deep as he can before stilling and filling you. He collapses on you right after, still buried inside you with his head in the crook of your shoulder, your pants echoing through the room.

He lays on top of you for a while, his crushing weight smothering you to the mattress, but you don’t move him, welcoming the intimacy after months of distance. You think he’s fallen asleep, but then you feel his shoulders shake, your neck getting damp as he sniffles next to you. The guilt returns as you stroke his back gently and let him cry, your own reservoir long empty. Without lifting his head, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers together, as he holds it tightly.

“I’m sorry I’m not him.” He mumbles against you. You go to say his name but before you can he interrupts you. “I’m sorry I can’t make it hurt less. I’m sorry I can’t bring him back. I’m so, so sorry.”

You try to move his head to see him but he just nuzzles his face in deeper, his hair tickling your neck gently. Your mind feels heavy, like if you thought more your brain would simply shrivel up. You wish you were a different person, had a different life, made better decisions. You hate yourself for making Jungkook feel like he’s responsible for your happiness, responsible for putting you back together, but most of all you hate yourself for making him feel like he has to bring Namjoon back for you to feel happy.

Before Namjoon died, Jungkook was a different person. He was funny, energetic, competitive, but afterwards he just became quiet. Sure, he was introverted before, but he just lost the spark behind his eyes. It wasn’t surprising. Jungkook had known Namjoon even longer than you did. He grew up with him and looked up to him like a younger brother would. In the beginning of your relationship, you even felt that he thought he had some kind of responsibility to take care of you for him. He never pushed you, always relented to your requests. 

The first time you slept with him was only three months after the funeral, when in a drunken haze you begged him to make you forget. He wiped your tears and held you as he helped you forget. In the two years following he never asked you to do anything, except for one thing. One thing you were always too scared to do because to you it would be admitting that you were broken. As you laid with your arms tight around him, lamenting how you broke him worse, you decided to give it to him.

“I’ll go to therapy.” Your voice was low but firm, and it jolts Jungkook to move up and lean on his hands next to your head. The movement makes the two of you wince as he suddenly pulls out of you, dragging his release down your thighs. His red rimmed eyes roam your face looking for deceit.

“You will?”

 “I can’t expect you to fix me, Kook. I can’t put that on you.” You sigh, a hand reaching out to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. Your thumb brushes over his lower lip that juts out in a slight pout, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have him in your life.

“You can. I’ll always be here for you, you know that right?” He whispers and it makes your heart ache when you think about how defeated he seemed earlier. 

“Kook… I love you… I really do.” Your eyes are glassy again and you wonder how it is that your body can keep producing tears. He hugs you at that, his arms going under your waist to gently lift you and scoot the two of you upwards, resting your head on the pillows. He lies next to you, a little distance between the two of you, your hands laced together as you both stare at the ceiling, the emotions of the night turning to exhaustion.

“I should’ve talked to you instead of trying to run away.” Jungkook speaks after a while, making you turn your head towards him.

“I didn’t mean what I said-”

“It’s okay if you did. I miss him. I wish he was here too.” He looks at you with a small smile.

“No. It’s not okay. You don’t deserve this. You could be with someone else and you’d be happy. You could be happy Kook. Don’t you want that? To be with someone who doesn’t imagine their dead ex all the time?” Your voice is firm, even when it wavers slightly towards the end, your grip around his hand getting tighter.

“No. I want to be with you.” His thumb caresses your hand as he turns on his side as he puts his arm around your waist. The warmth you missed these past months was back in his eyes, but instead of it raising butterflies, all it did was produce dread for when it would disappear as he continued. “I would’ve left a long time ago if I wanted to. If you don’t want me, I still can... if that’s what would make you happy.”

“I think you need to be with someone who you don’t have to put together again.” Your voice is small as he sighs again, letting go of your hand to pull you close to his body, cradling your head into his chest. On instinct, you wrap your arms and legs around him, nuzzling into his chest. The touch of his skin on yours never failed to comfort you.

“You’re not broken. I’m not putting you together. I just… I don’t want to lose you.” His voice reverberates through his chest as he holds you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

“But maybe you need to.” You want to be selfish, keep him for yourself but shouldn’t you let Jungkook go for his sake? Let him find someone with less work, no matter how much it hurts you? It was bad enough that your mental health was terrible, did his need to be too? You feel his heart pound under you and it causes yours to speed up as well, anticipating his words. You don’t know how you would react if he agreed.

“Tomorrow. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.” He says after quiet contemplation. “I love you. More than you’ll know.”

“And I love you. You. Jeon Jungkook. Even if I’m selfish and ruining you.”

He shushes you at that, stroking your hair as the two of you fall in a dreamless sleep. You didn’t know if your relationship would survive past the post-orgasmic endorphins, but you knew one thing for sure. You were in love with Jungkook and tomorrow you were going to set up your first therapy appointment to make sure you never made him feel like he lost again.

----

I hope you liked this angsty piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#bwcssy2 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #btsnoonanet #thebtswritersclub #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #jungkook x yn #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fan fiction

[spicykoreantatertots]

Warmth

~~~~~~~

Pairing: Jungkook and Female Reader

Word Count: 900

Rating: R, 18+

Genres: NSFW, Established Relationship, Fluff, and Smut

Warnings: Flirty Jungkook, Oral (female receiving), Unprotected Sex

A/N: Merry Christmas @jjungkooksthighs​!! I am SO sorry this took FOREVER to post!! As you know I was visiting my girlfriend for Christmas and that included two 22 hour road trips! I hope you can enjoy this little Jungkook Christmas drabble. I hope it leaves you feeling warm. Lots of love, Dasher!

Shoutout to @thesoftsoobin​ for the AMAZING mood board. ily

~~~~~~~

Breathe in the frigid air, watch your breath dissipate into the evening sky. The sun has almost finished setting, creating a picturesque view in the park. Snow has settled gently on top of the grass, the trees, even the bench you’re now sitting on. Jungkook had cleared a spot for you to sit before he left to get the two of you some hot chocolate. 

Your mind begins to wander... thinking about Jungkook. The two of you have been together almost a year now. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, hands down. He’s kind, thoughtful, talented and... sexy.

A loud thud brings you out of your thoughts. A snowball landed on the back of the bench next to you. Looking up, you see Jungkook standing a few feet away from you balancing two hot chocolates in one hand, a second snowball in the other. 

He cocks an eyebrow and launches the second snowball at you. It hits your chest and shatters, leaving a dusting of snow on your jacket. You let your body go limp, tongue flopping out of your mouth to play dead. 

“No! I’ve killed her!” Jungkook shouts and he jogs over to your limp body. “If only I knew a way to revive her!”

You peek your eye open just in time to see Jungkook, still balancing two hot chocolates, reaching for your abdomen. He tickles your side and your body jolts, a loud squeal escaping you and tearing through the silence of the snow covered park. 

Jungkook sits and hands you your hot chocolate, both of you laughing. Steam is rising from the cup and you can smell the rich chocolate. The first drink shocks your tongue, the hot liquid a stark contrast from the freezing temperatures outside. But the second drink warms your body from the inside out. 

Jungkook places his arm around your shoulder, leaning in to kiss the traces of chocolate off your lips. Something catches his eye, the snow splattered across your jacket. 

“Here let me help you with that.” Jungkook smirks, a familiar look forming in his eyes. He dusts the snow from your jacket, intentionally grazing your breasts. And even through your thick winter jacket, you can feel the electricity in his touch. 

The two of you share a look and within a split second you are up from the bench and sprinting through the park, your half full hot chocolates discarded in a garbage can. It’s just a few blocks until you get back to Jungkook’s apartment.

Jungkook, ever the athlete begins to pull ahead of you, but he grabs hold of your hand, pulling you along with him. The cold air whipping through your lungs burns, but it can’t compare to the burning desire racing through your veins. 

At his apartment, you leave a trail of clothes behind you as you make your way to the bedroom. Your jackets are thrown on the couch rather than carefully hung by the door. Beanies and scarfs strewn about. Boots kicked off near the dining table. Jungkook’s sweater and black jeans discarded on the floor in the kitchen after you boldly pushed him against the counter. 

You struggled to get out of your leggings, too flustered to pull them off correctly. The moment you finally stepped out of them he leaned down to grab your waist and carried you the rest of the way to the bed.

He doesn’t bother with your dress, instead opting to slide his still cold fingers up your legs to pull off your panties. As he removes them, both of you can already tell how ready you are. But, it doesn’t take long before his cold fingers find their way to your warmth, his tongue following shortly after. 

Not long after he begins tasting you, he has you panting and creeping toward your climax. He pulls away, however, and in the dim lighting of the room you can just make out his silhouette. He’s removing his boxers now and a wave of anticipation washes over you. 

Jungkook crawls on the bed, coming face to face with you to leave a kiss on your lips. He positions himself over you and leaves a few more kisses on your neck before he slowly enters you. After months of incredible sex, you’re adjusted to the girth but it still feels so good when he fills you up. 

His pace begins to quicken, his hands are firmly planted, one on the bed, one on your waist. He buries his face between your breasts as he continues with his rhythm. The fabric of your dress is fairly thick, but you can still feel his hot breath. 

When he comes up for air you can see how flushed his face is, a familiar look of determination on his face. He’s close, but he wants to feel you come first. His hand leaves your waist and travels down between your thighs. It doesn’t take much for you to finally reach your climax, a gasp followed by a loud moan escaping your lips lets him know he’s succeeded.The pace of his hips meeting yours slows down and soon his climax takes over him as well. 

After catching your breath and a quick shower, you and Jungkook climb into bed together. Abandoned hot chocolates long forgotten, his embrace more than enough to keep you warm.

~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting asks and DMs, so hit me up! Check out my masterlist here and @jjungkooksthighs​ masterlist here.

#bwcssy2 #ficswithluv #bangtanuniversity #bangtanhq #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts #bts smut #bts fluff

[allthelxves]

Yoongi with mint green hair for @vvnte ♡

happy holidays! it’s me, cinnamon! 

maybe i was not the best secret santa (and sorry for that) but with all my heart, i wish you a 2021 full of joys and good vibes! it’s probably not the gift you were expecting but i hope you like it.

also, thank you so much to @bwcsecretsanta for organizing this and let us see the talent of ofter people ♡

#bwcssy2 #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kgfxnet #btsgif #btsedit #yoongi #suga #bts #bangtan #yoongi mint hair #tw flashing #mygifs #sorry for the delay but i had a lot of problems with my laptop #i would have liked to talk more with you but i made the attempt :( #i hope you like it and happy new year!

[btsmakesmehappy]

Cookies Charades

Genre: Roommate to Lover, Friends to lover, Fluff, slight angst.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 4,5k

Rating: PG-13

Warning: the reader is a little insecure, grinch joke, ugly christmas sweater, low budget christmas party, a pandemic quarantine itself is a big warning (Please stay safe!)

Summary: A pandemic quarantine, cookies, a bet, and a night with just the two of you; you and your very own crush who is also your best friend. What could happen?

A/N: this drabble is for @btswriterscollective​ ‘s holiday event! It’s my first time joining an event since I wrote my fics. And this fluffy Christmas fic is dedicated to @lunar-jimin​. Merry Christmas! I’m still new at writing fics so It’ll be a little messy but I hope this will make you happy! - your secret Santa, Rain

also thank you for my beta reader, @arizonapoppy​ Merry Christmas<3

“So what are you doing for Christmas?” Jimin asks casually as he puts chips into his mouth. His eyes are glued to the TV which plays Princess Diaries out of nowhere, and you’re pretty sure that both of you don’t even pay any attention to the movie. Today is supposed to be your movie night with your best friends, just wine, and a lot of food, and maybe some board games if you can’t find anything to watch. But since the pandemic, you can’t just barge into your friends’ home easily. That’s why you are stuck in your apartment with your roommate, Jimin.

You’ve been living with him for two years, introduced by mutual friends. You searched for an apartment, Jimin looked for a roommate, it was perfect. There was just a little thing that your friends knew: that you had a crush on him.

Well, who doesn’t?

Jimin is hot, smart, and cute all merged into a fine man. A fine man with a body that makes other men envious. It’s unfair too that he is also kindhearted. It’s like everything you need for a man, you can find in him.

Jimin is like a chameleon. He can be a nerd in the morning, and a fuckboy in the evening. He can be a bulky gym-addicted man to start and then turns into a cuddly soft boy in the space of minutes. He can be a boy that an older woman loves, or a strong-fatherly figure that girls would obsess over. He cooks, he cleans, and he also takes care of you when you’re sick.

He is so perfect. So fucking perfect.

That’s why it’s hard for you to not fall in love with him, not when he is just a room away from you, and not when he becomes your best friend so very soon. It’s like Universe wants to torture you. Like the Universe sees an opportunity to mess with your heart, let alone your relationship with people.

Yes. You’re in love with your best friend who is also your roommate.

You like him, a lot, to the point that your hand goes clammy whenever he’s close to you. To the point that his scent after shower raises your heartbeat. To the point that you feel a stab of pain to your chest whenever he comes home with Jisoo.

You sip your wine slowly. “I might be skiing again right now, if we weren’t in a pandemic.” Your eyes wander to the photo frame above the TV; it was when you were on a skiing trip with your friends last winter.

“Do you want to do something with me then?” He turns his head to face you, eyes twinkling in excitement.

“Sure, why not?” you shrug. “We’re going to do these for Christmas, after all. So yeah, just make an appointment for that.”

Jimin snatches the wine glass from you and puts it on the shaky table in front of you so clumsily that he almost makes it fall and colors your cheap white carpet red. “That’s not what I meant! Let’s just make a small Christmas celebration just the two of us. We should bake, cook, and decorate!”

“Won’t it be bothersome, though?” You’re actually pretty worn out. Your finals have just ended, all of your assignments and papers are all submitted. Not to mention you just finished your internship program for this semester, because somehow they didn’t cancel the program because of the pandemic. You were pretty busy. What you really want is just food and your bed. Celebrating Christmas? Maybe it’s just a privilege for you.

“Come on!” he whines. “It’ll be fun! This is the first Christmas, just the two of us!”

And maybe the last one, you think. Staying with Jimin has been hard for your heart. You’re supposed to move this year. You’ve searched the possible rooms, looking for extra jobs to afford it, and anything you need to rent the new room. But again, because of the pandemic, that plan will be postponed. There’s no way you would move at the time like this. So, yeah. Maybe this Christmas would be a nice memory. “Fine. So what should we buy then?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle with his widening smile. “Should we exchange gifts? What do you want for Christmas?”

You fold your arms, thinking. “Ehm. I know! I read it online earlier this morning, there’s a discount in the supermarket for instant noodles. Can you believe it? Buy three get two for free!”

“That’s not what I meant!” he whines. “Clothes? Books?”

“Not really; Why would I buy clothes when I spent most of my days in the apartment? And besides I’m broke.” Well, you’re not lying. Even though you’re gonna spend Christmas away from your family, it doesn't mean you won’t send them gifts, and with those pricey gifts and delivery fees; yeah, it costs you a little more than you’re expected.

Jimin pouts. “Fine… So no exchanging gifts then. Well, Christmas Eve is tomorrow anyway, there’s no way we can find gifts in such a short notice.”

You poke his sides playfully, “come on don’t be sad. And I remember you said something about baking?”

He smiles widely and rises from the couch. He walks inside his bedroom and returns with a legal pad in his hand. “What about decoration? I believe we can still find a Christmas tree downtown,” he suggests as he scribbles his ideas on the pad.

Your hand automatically stops his moving hand. “Let’s skip the Christmas tree. It’ll be too expensive. How about we just make paper chains or something like that?”

“Why? It’ll be like an investment! We can use it next year.”

“I know, but…” You bite your lips, hesitant to tell him. “It’s just…”

Jimin looks at you for a moment and then draws an X on the pad. “Fine. No decoration. Let’s keep our budget to minimum then. What about food?”

“I’m not sure. With all of the baking we’ll do, it’ll be a mess if we decided to cook too.”

Jimin taps his pencil on his chin. “You’re right. Let’s order pizza and chicken then?”

You give him a thumb up and pat his shoulder. “Okay. We should go shopping in the morning.” A yawn leaves your mouth and you rise from the couch. “Well, I’m going to retire for the night. Good night.”

“So early?” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and then to your abandoned glass of wine. “Fine. See you tomorrow.”

You give him a wave and head to your room. With the weight in your heart, you plop on your bed and sigh. Again, you missed the chance to tell him that you’re going to move out. Your mind wonders whether it’s a good idea to spend Christmas Eve tomorrow with him. Just the thought of that makes your heart race again.

Get your head straight, Y/N!

He is your best friend. Control your feelings!

Just hang in there a little more, Y/N.

Hang in there…

You’re awakened by the sound of metal crashing outside your room. You grunt as you reach the phone, eyes widening when you see that it’s noon already. You rise and walk outside to look for Jimin.

“Hello, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes slowly and stretch your body. You were asleep for more than twelve hours, and instead of energizing you, it physically drained you. Your body aches. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask hoarsely.

Jimin smiles as he hands you a mug of hot chocolate. Even if it’s noon already, it’s still winter and sure a hot beverage wouldn’t hurt. And the time and weather on your phone says it’s actually colder than yesterday, which is why even Jimin wears a thick black turtleneck instead of his usual pajamas. Not that you’re complaining about it. He looks good, like very good. And he just stands out perfectly in your all-white kitchen. “Because I know you’re tired. I feel bad, too, because you did this because I asked you. I’m sorry. And besides, you’re scary when I wake you up by force.”

You sit on the counter, collecting warmth by holding the mug. “Thank you. But don’t feel bad. I agreed to do it, too. So, if you give me fifteen minutes we can go to shopping-”

“That’s not needed anymore.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as your lips touch the hot chocolate, dripping some of it from your mouth. “But.. I thought we’re gonna bake cookies?”

“Yes, we are.” He cleans your chin with his thumb slowly, makes you jolt a little at his touch. The way he licks his thumb casually afterward is not helping at all. “But I already went for groceries!”

“I see, but you should just wait for me. We could go together.” You blow the beverage to cool it down and sip it slower than before.

His hand travels to your cheek and pinches it softly. “That’s fine. So just wake up already and help me bake!”

You look puzzled and yet you walk back again to your room, leaving him humming Christmas songs in the kitchen. You lean on the back of your door after you close it. Your face feels hotter as if you can still feel his fingers on your face. Smooth and warm. The warmth slowly fills your chest and makes you hard to breathe. It’s like magic. And it's even more magical that you still can stand even though your knees are all wobbly.

You shake your head to clear your mind, to clear any unnecessary thoughts, and head to the bathroom. This is going to be a hard day.

Fifteen minutes later, you go back to the kitchen, finding Jimin playing with his iPad. “What cookies should we make?” you ask as you lean on the counter, head propped on your chin. You’re wearing your Christmas sweater that your mom sent you earlier this year. It has a Grinch on the front of it and a huge Christmas tree on the back. It screams ugly in every Christmas sweater contest. You’re supposed to wear this together with your family, sitting together in front of a fireplace. Since it’s not going to happen, at least the sweater can give you some warmth this Christmas.

He lifts his head up and his eyes fall on your green sweater. “It suits you really well, not gonna lie.” He throws his head back in laughter.

His laughter again sways your heart, stealing your breath. You hit him softly on his shoulder and tie your hair loosely in a low ponytail. “Shut up. So what should we make?”

“It’s gingerbread cookies! We can decorate them too. I bought like a dozen cookie cutters just for this day.” He opens a plastic box to show you proudly.

You pick some of the cookie cutters, trying to identify the shapes. “Are you sure you picked the right shapes? Isn’t this like a mermaid-ocean-package?”

“What?” He immediately scans the box and sighs. “Fuck, I’m sure I picked from the right shelf. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? Maybe some people are mixing it up. That’s fine!” You pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Jimin grabs all of the cookie cutters and stuffs them into their box. “Just wait for an hour. I’m gonna have this exchanged.”

You grab his arms to stop him from walking away. “Don’t bother. They’re still cookies and edible even though they’re in different shapes. I mean, mermaids celebrate Christmas too, don’t they? In any case, it doesn’t really matter.”

“It does matter!” He pouts. “It’s our first Christmas together, I want it to be perfect.”

You chuckle. “Why would you want that?”

He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “I just feel we’ve been too distant lately, and you look very tired. I just want to make you happy.”

You freeze for a moment as you look at his face. A hopeful thought sneaks to your mind and you clear it immediately. “We can just make our shapes then. You know, just cut it with a knife or a toothpick or anything.”

He looks you back in the eyes, waiting for another reassurement. “Really?”

You smile. “Yes, it would be fun, making our own shapes. Besides, we don’t need perfect-shaped cookies just to make our Christmas perfect, do we?”

He returns your smile with a wider smile and pulls you into his chest. “Alright. Thank you, Y/N.”

You’re again puzzled with the sudden act and clear your throat as you pat his back. “Alright let’s bake some cookies then.”

He releases you immediately with pinkish cheeks.. “By the way, I’ve already mixed all of the ingredients a few hours ago, just so you know. The dough needed to be chilled.”

“Really? So I’m going to just cut them out and decorate it?”

“Yep.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl of brown mixture. He scoops some flour with his hands to the counter and throws down the cookie dough. “Don’t worry I’ve cleaned the counter a few times.”

You’re not a cook yourself but you know a thing or two about cooking and baking. You baked cookies a lot when you're a kid, but as an adult? Not so much. So you just watch Jimin using his rolling pin to thin the dough with admiration on your face.

“What’re you doing? You should help me!”

“Oh right.” You laugh and walk to the sink to wash your hands. You snatch the rolling pin from his hand and start rolling it slowly. “Let me roll this.”

“Wait a minute.” He walks to the cabinet nearest you and grabs an apron. “Don’t want the Grinch to be dirty.” He unfolds the apron and throws the loop over your head.

You hold a breath when he touches your sides to tie the apron around your waist. You clear your throat just so you can distract yourself from the shivers that come from the feeling of his breath on your neck. “Is this fine?”

He pulls away from you. Looking around your shoulder, he eyes the dough. “I think this is the perfect thickness.”

“So how do you want to shape it?” Your hand moves to the corner of the tempting brown dough to rip it and puts it on your mouth, letting the dough melt on your tongue. You open the drawer to search for a small knife. “I’m thinking a puppy would be cute, but without the proper cutter, I’m afraid it’d turn out horrendous.”

“Oh my God, I just have a nice idea!“ He claps his hands together, eyes twinkling. “Should we have a competition then? ‘Who’d make the best identifiable cookies’. It would be like charades!”

You chuckle. “That’s like totally random. I think you hang out with Taehyung too much.” The second bite you ate is sweeter and all you can taste is just sweetness and the ginger. Did I taste some cinnamon in there?

He smiles proudly. “I think we can ask Taehyung to guess. What topic should we use… Animals would be too easy. How about food?”

“Fine! What’d the winner get?” you ask as your hand moves again towards the dough, but Jimin slaps it lightly.

“Why do you keep eating that? It has raw egg for god’s sake. Anyway, I think...” he rubs his chin and leaves a hint of flour on it, thinking. “What about the loser should grant the winner’s wish?”

You pout and use your sleeve to clean his chin. “A wish? Sure, but we should make some rule-”

“Make that three wishes,” he grins.

“Three??” your jaw drops.

He takes a step forward, forcing you to step back. Your hip bumps the counter as he reaches out his hand. “Are you afraid to lose, Y/N?”

You laugh in amazement. “No. Three wishes just for today,” you reply as you move closer to him and accept his hand. “Deal.”

After hours of baking the cookies, letting them cool off, and decorating them, it’s time to play the cookie charades, as Jimin named it. Both of you have written all of the answers on a piece of paper so it’d be fair, and no one can change the answer later.

Jimin holds his phone as he waits for Taehyung to answer the video calls. Just after a few rings, Taehyung picks up the phone. “What’s up Jimin? Aren’t you with Y/N?”

“Hey Tae!” you wave at the phone when Jimin shows it to you. “What are you doing? We miss you!”

“Nothing. I just played games for twenty -four hours straight so I’m resting my eyes right now. What do you want?”

Jimin clears his throat and faces the camera. “So, Y/N and I are baking cookies, and we want you to guess the shapes. It’s kind of a battle.”

Taehyung grunts. “Why would I want to get involved in your rivalry? It’s so bothersome.”

“If I win I can give you one of my wishes!” you chime in, snatching the phone from Jimin’s hand.

“Yah! That’s bribing.” Jimin yells.

You scoff. “Fine! Pretty please?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and sighs. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Jimin snatches his phone again and flips the camera. “Alright, thirty seconds on the clock each part and you should answer as many cookies as you can. To be fair, we’re not telling you whose cookies they are. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Can we do this immediately?”

You open your timer on your phone and set to thirty seconds. “Alright, one two three. Start!”

The first cookie’s shaped like a circle, but decorated with multiple colors. It has a brown-black stripe, red stripe, and green stripe stacked between two brown-yellowish stripes. “Hmmm, Hamburger?” Taehyung answers.

“Correct!”

The second one is also a circle with a light brown color, with a little orange accent on it. “What’s that… a potato?” he squints his eyes as he looks at his phone screen closely.

“Wrong, it’s a hotteok.”

“The fuck I should know? It’s nothing like hotteok!” Taehyung rants on the other line, seemingly excited about the game.

“Just answer it! Fifteen seconds left!”

The rest fifteen seconds and another thirty seconds flew fast and Jimin concluded the game as he waves to Taehyung. “Alright, Tae. Thank you for playing with us. I hope to see you soon!” Jimin yells.

“So who’s the winner? Ya-” Taehyung asks as Jimin hangs up the phone.

Jimin puts his phone inside his pocket and looks at the answer sheets. “So, the first one has four rights and the second one has three rights. So that means…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks to control your emotion, but looking at Jimin’s face, you’re losing it. “FINE! You win!”

Jimin smiles wider as he jumps happily. “Of course I’d win!”

“I still think that putting Sprite as a question is cheating.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not even a food!”

He laughs again mockingly, “It is if I say it is.”

You pout. “Fine, whatever. What are your wishes then? Remember, that those wishes are only valid until midnight.”

Jimin walks to the couch and sits with a smug expression on his face. “Let’s start with cleaning all of those cookie sheets and mixing bowls.” He picks up a remote and turns the TV on to play some movies. “Start cleaning, Cinderella!”

You sigh as you look at the piled-up dishes. Why did I even agree in the first place? you mumble quietly as you brush the crumbs from the pan and the hardened icing from the bowls. And the fact that it is filled with icing sugar before only makes it harder to clean. You scowl as you run them under the hot water, leaning in to scrub them more harshly.

“Don’t be mad, Y/N. You can win it next year,” Jimin reassures as he bites into his cookies. His voice is only half-mocking.

You slam the bowl into the sink with a clang, sending a cloud of bubbles across the counter. “Yeah, right. Like I would want to visit your apartment next year.”

“You what?” he asks, his voice blurred with the sound of the song coming from the TV. He turns his head to look at you weirdly.

You freeze, realizing that you just blurted the one thing you don’t want him to know. “Nothing,” you reply as you continue to wash the dishes, avoiding his gaze.

Jimin rises from the sofa and turns the TV off. He walks back to the kitchen and grabs your arm harshly, forcing you to look at him. “What do you mean?” His voice is cold, the smile vanished from his face.

“It’s nothing.” You try to brush his hand away and continue washing the dishes, but his grip tightens.

“I said, what do you mean?”

You take a deep breath. The scrubber slips from your hand under the water as you turn to face him. “I think I’m going to move out from this apartment.”

“What? Why?” His forehead creases. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. Not at all. You’re a perfect roommate.” You clear your throat awkwardly. “It’s just, something happened.” You reach for the scrubber again.

He pulls at your sleeve, and you look at him again. “What happened? Is it a money thing? If it is, don’t worry about it. You don’t even have to pay right now. Just tell me.” His mouth is pursed with worry and your head roils with a sudden guilty feeling.

You shake your head weakly. “No, it’s not something like that. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you not telling me? I’m your best friend!”

“IT IS BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND!” you yell, yanking your sleeve from his hand.

“What? What do you mean?” he demands.

You control your breaths. “Nothing.” You turn the faucet off and stomp towards your room. Jimin’s hand grabs you again before you get two steps, stopping you from leaving him. The warmth of his hand seeps into your body. You feel nauseous. You need to stay away from him right now. “I need some time alone.”

He bites his lips, annoyed with your answer. “Well, then you have to tell me what’s wrong.” He steps closer to you, eyes glaring. “It’s my second wish.”

“That’s not fair. I--” Tears threaten to fall at your sudden exposure.

“Tell me, Y/N. You promised me you’d gran-”

“I LIKE YOU, OKAY?” You confess as tears fall from your cheeks. Your knees turn weak after you let it out, and you slump at the counter. The secret that holds your relationship together, that makes you the way it was. It’s over for you and Jimin.

Jimin steps back from you, loosening his grip around your hand. “You what? Then why would you move out?” he asks softly.

Your fists tighten to stop your tears from falling even more. “I tried to not like you, but it is too hard, Jimin. I can’t control my feelings. I’m sorry. I really wanted to be your best friend and also your roommate, but I just ca-”

Your words are interrupted with his lips crashing on yours, catching you off guard. His lips are soft and you can taste the cinnamon-sweetness from the cookies mixed with the saltiness of your tears. Just when you try to comprehend what’s going on, he pulls away. His hands find their rest on your face and cup it gently, swiping any tears leaving from your eyes. He rests his forehead against yours and sighs. “You’re stupid.”

“Wha-what? Why?” you stutter, throat drying because of the sudden closeness.

“Why do you think I chose you to be my roommate?” His warmth spreads to your cheeks, sending another hope to you. His gaze softens and you gather all of your courage to meet him back. “It’s because I like you too.”

Again you freeze on the spot. Eyes widening, breath stopping. And it makes Jimin giggle. “I always liked you, Y/N.” He leans in and gives a chaste kiss on your nose and moves downward to plant another on your lips.

“Bu-but I thought you.. With Jisoo….” There’s no way Jimin would like you. It doesn’t make any sense. You pull away from him. “Stop playing with me.”

Jimin pulls you in his chest, resting his chin on your head. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Y/N. There’s never been another woman. It's always been you.” He takes a deep breath, and continues. “Jisoo is my cousin, and she knows about my feelings.”

“Cousin?”

“Yes. She sometimes crashes at our apartment when she has a fight with her boyfriend, who is, by the way, none other than our dear friend Taehyung.” Jimin smiles and pulls away, but keeps his arms holding your waist close to him. “And even though she sleeps here, I always take the couch. She always leaves early in the morning because Taehyung picks her up. Their relationship is a little weird, if I may say so.”

“Taehyung?”

“Look I can even call my family members just to prove it to you, if it’s what you want.”

You shake your head, looking lost. You know Jimin is telling you the truth, but still you can’t believe that he likes you. Like he actually likes you.

“I was going to tell you tonight, but this somehow happened.” He calls your name softly to gain your attention. “So yeah, I like you a lot. And don’t ask me ‘since when’, because I don’t even know the answer. It just grows each day and each moment I spend with you.”

And just like that relief washes in you along with your tears. All of the thoughts you have of losing Jimin are vanished. All of your doubts are answered. You bury your head in his shoulder.

Jimin laughs and hugs you tighter. “Why are you crying?” He strokes your back to calm you down as you sob in his chest. “It must have been bothering you a lot, does it? I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this.”

“I’m not stupid.” You sniffle as you put your arms around him, hugging him back.

“Sure, you’re not.” He laughs again and kisses the top of your head lovingly. “So, here’s my third wish.”

Your eyes widen with the sudden change of topic, looking at him in confusion. “Like right now? Wha-what is it?”

He looks directly to your eyes, gaze softens each time he takes a deep breath. And with this proximity, you can hear his heart racing inside his chest, playing the rhythm answered with your own beat. Not even a Christmas carol can top this symphony. Not when the world is only yours and Jimin. Not when is just you and Jimin, and nothing else matters.

And finally, Jimin opens his lips slowly. “Be my girlfriend?”

Thank you for reading! Hope you all have a merry christmas!!

#bwcssy2 #btswriterscollective #bts jimin #jimin au #jimin scenario #btsgoldnet #btsbookclub #thehouseofbangtan #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #thebtsficarchive #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #bighitcity #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #purplearmynet #armiesnet #heartforbts

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Fists and a Smart mouth

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader 

Summary: When a rich cowboy moves into town you can't stand him, more so when he attempts to make some drastic changes but with a secret of your own he soon finds out that you'll protect your town and your privacy by any means necessary.

Genre: Idiots to lovers / Enemies to lovers / Angst / Smut / Wild west au / Cowboy au / One shot

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Abusive ex / Mentions of stabbing (not detailed description) / Guns / Talk of scars / Shooting (not described) / Oral (f receiving) / Sex / Minor character death

Word count: 8100

Project: Bts writers collective secret santa 2020

A/N: This is for my Secret Santa @joontopia​ I was not planning it to be anything like this but it took on a mind of it’s own as I wrote, so my apologies. It’s not the fluffiest thing I’ve written but I really, really hope you enjoy this. If you have an issue with any of the warnings, message me and I will try and edit it for you. It was really lovely getting to know you through asks and trolling your page for clues and info about yourself. Enjoy ❤

Thank you to @moccahobi​ for beta reading this and @birbdae​ also, your comments helped me a lot, it’s much appreciated. And thank you to @wheresmymoniat​ for being a general angel and reading along the way, with your endless encouragement when I’m unsure of my writing.

Two months since Namjoon moved to town.

"Have you heard?" one of your usual patrons, Hoseok, asked, leaning discreetly across the bar.

You look over with a questioning eyebrow. "Heard what?" you reply, half listening and half keeping an eye on Taehyung over on the piano. After one too many beers, you wanted to make sure he wasn't about to put a fist through the keys, with his wild playing; giving the room a personal concert.

"Namjoon's planning on building a mall." he whispers, glancing around suspiciously.

The empty glass you're drying slams against the counter as you turn and face him. 

"How do you know this?" you ask, voice low and uneven with anger.

"I heard him talking to Seokjin about it, he wants his help with planning."

Seokjin, the local and resident builder, he's also the best builder in the state. You knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't want to help with something like that. He wouldn't want to change this town...but maybe for the right price? We all know Namjoon has money, the way he flashes it around like a Hollywood star meant it was not a secret and he didn't want it to be. Even so, you highly doubt Seokjin would accept such an offer.

Doubt starts creeping in, an ugly voice whispering in the back of your mind.

"Hey, Jimin! Can you take over for me?" you call over to him. 

He nods, joining you behind the bar instantly, as you grab your brown fringe-jacket and head out to Seokjin's ranch. You had to know if there was substance to this and not just rumours whispered between the townsfolk.

As your truck raced along the dirt roads, the sound of the roaring engine doing nothing to calm your mind, with flashing images, slicing their way behind your eyes like projector slides. Big corporate buildings, a shopping mall, more city folk, modernisation...not that you were against it. You just didn't want it here. That's what drew you to this place in the beginning a few years ago, that's why you stayed and built a life for yourself, that's why a lot of people stay here, for the vintage, small town life.

You fling your door open before your truck had even come to a stop and you waltzed straight up to Seokjin's front door. Your knuckles making loud contact as they rapped furiously against it.

He opens it with a frown, his face softening when he sees it's you but quickly his expression turns weary from the tense expression you hold.

"What's-"

"Are you helping Namjoon build a mall?" you demand, in no mood to be messed around.

His jaw tenses and he nods for you to come inside.

Storming into his living room too infuriated  to sit, you stand and face him, arms folded, waiting for his response and dreading his answer.

"He did approach me about it but I said no. Did you really think I'd say anything but?" He shook his head at you, disappointment obvious on his face and immediate guilt rising inside you in response.

Your shoulders relax as you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding. "I had to check before I assumed anything."

You slump down on the sofa, leaning your head back and staring up at his slacked ceiling. "Why is he doing this?"

He lets out a laugh as he joins you on the couch. "Now, you know the answer to that. Money. It's all he cares about. He saw an opportunity for something and he's taking it. End of."

You rub your eyes, trying to ease the tension created from your anger pounding inside your head, desperate to escape like some caged, wild animal. "If I went to see him with my gun, do you think it would change his mind?"

He laughs again. "I don't think he'd change his mind even if you shot him, sweetheart." A groan rumbles inside you, the idea of him being so stubborn, makes your fist want to connect with his jaw. "That's not deterring me from doing it."

"If he's going to do it, there's not much we can do." he shrugs and puts his feet up on his wooden coffee table, the wood dipping slightly on impact.

Fury lights your insides anew. You stand, striding across the room, "Like hell there isn't." you say, as you storm out and head off ready for a confrontation with the person you hate the most in this entire town.

You expect your wrath to have died down somewhat on your ride over but, to your pleasant surprise, it hasn't.

You come to a halt outside his ranch, looking over his land and the new building he spent ages preparing to become a hotel...an empty one at that.

After hammering on his door so hard the hinges rattled, he strangely and calmly invites you inside his house.

"You really should see someone about your anger issues. It's not healthy for one person to harbour so much...rage." he says, in such a condescending manner you clench your jaw to stop yourself from lashing out. You'd only be proving him right. 

Something about him got to you, you two have clashed since the moment he arrived in this town, and he knew exactly how to play it too.

"The only issue I have, Namjoon, is you."

He sighs. "I would very much like you on board with this. I don't want to have you fighting the inevitable."

"The inevitable." you gasp with angered amusement, "as long as I'm living in this town, this is anything but inevitable."

"Why do you hate this idea so much?" he asks perplexed, with simultaneous interest and bemusement.

"Someone like you would not understand." You fold your arms in an attempt to hold in the pointless angry words you feel boiling inside.

He shrugs. "I would like to try. Humour me."

You let out an exasperated sigh, tired of the anger, tired of being so closed off but you had no choice but to be exactly that. "Some people have come here to enjoy the small town life." you reply simply, not having the trust in him or yourself to say more.

"And maybe some people have come here to escape something?" 

You freeze, heart stopping before pounding so violently against your ribcage, you're sure it's echo fills the room.

He watches you carefully, searching your eyes and all you can do is stare back.

"You know, I did some research after our first encounter…"

You swallow, trying to ease the choking sensation in your throat.

"...I'm usually good at finding any useful information about people…"

He walks slowly around his kitchen island to you. You couldn't move even if you wanted to, your feet frozen to the spot but wanting to run, fighting for you to run.

"...But you...I couldn't find a single thing about you."

Your eyes connect with his as he towers above you, searching for your own answers, needing to find out what he knows.

"Don't you find that odd?" he asks.

Your mind races inside your frozen stature. You could not tell a man like Namjoon anything. You could not trust him. He will ruin this life you've made and turn it upside down.

"Well, I found it very odd. It's like you don't even exist...so that got me intrigued and asking some questions."

Your stomach drops as small beads of sweat break out across your forehead, the sudden heat under your flannel shirt almost unbearable.

"And do you know what I found out?" he taps his chin, drawing out the tension purposefully and making you want to headbutt the smug look off his face.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No one knows a personal thing about you."

The relief you feel inside makes you want to collapse to your knees and thank gods you don’t believe in.

"That is, if they're being honest. I know you like to protect your own in communities like this. But it definitely has me wondering…?"

He waits for a response this time.

"What?" your voice comes out a raspy whisper, his words leaving the taste of ash in your dry mouth.

"What are you hiding?"

You steel yourself, remembering just how pathetic of a man he is and let's face it, you've dealt with much scarier things than him. "Even if I was hiding something, I'd certainly never tell the likes of you."

You turn and head towards his door, when you hear his voice again. 

"I'm not stupid enough to believe we'll be friends, you know but I would like us to at least be civil."

You let out a bitter laugh. "You can keep dreaming, pretty boy." You storm out, slamming his door hard enough for the glass to rattle in it’s wooden frame.

Three and a half months since Namjoon moved to town.

He's wasted, completely inebriated. You watch from behind the bar, getting ready to close, as he fumbles for the keys to his truck.

He came quietly into the bar this afternoon, face like thunder, ordering drink, after drink, after drink, no other words spoken. Most unusual for the chatty Kathy he is.

You've never seen him so drunk - so vulnerable. You wonder if perhaps something has happened. But, honestly, do you really care?

The keys slam to the floor and he goes head first into the driver's side door as he bends to retrieve them, face down in the dirt.

You shouldn't let him drive home. Definitely not.

Quickly shrugging on your jacket and grabbing your keys, locking the bar doors behind you as you rush over to him.

"Hey, big guy, come on, let's get you up." you throw his arm around your shoulders and use all your strength to get him on his feet and on balance. 

"I don't...need...your help." he mumbles, leaning into you, almost ready to pass out.

You open his truck door and shove him in, sliding him over as you climb in beside him. He doesn't notice as you pry the keys from his weak grip and start the engine.

Driving to his ranch would be a mistake; the pretentious layout of it would mean you would have to walk him much further than you think you actually could. Not without dropping him a few times, although that's not a bad idea.

You sigh as you drive down the winding dirt road that led to your land. The idea of having this man in your house would usually have infuriated you. But after seeing the sadness that clouded his eyes this morning you...felt for him.

You once told him he must have a miserable existence, being surrounded by money and not love. You wince at the memory. You were no different, except you weren't surrounded by either, how miserable does that make you?

As you pull up to your ranch, you look over to him, passed out, face squashed against the glass of the window. You wonder what secrets he must have, what sadness he's known, what dreams he’s had. How does someone get to be the way he is? 

There are surely a few people who would ask that very question about you. Only, you had a reason...have a reason. One you will never be free from. You push the thoughts away, back down into the pit they're buried into. No time to dwell in self pity. You're in this position through no fault but you're own, you bought it on yourself and now you have to live with those choices. 

You practically carry him the few steps to the front door and over to the sofa. He stumbles and almost trips over your rug but you hoist him up, almost injuring yourself in the process. You practically throw him onto the couch, where he tries to hold himself up but fails and collapses into the pillow you shove under him.

"I wish…" he starts, slurring every word. "I wish I was more like you." 

"No, you don't." You reply into the thick silence that envelopes you in a inescapable cage.

His eyelids close and immediately a roar of snoring fills the room, vibrating not only your eardrums but you're sure the walls too.

You lift his legs and lay them flush with his body, his limbs are so long they hang off over the armrest.

Taking one last look at him and wondering exactly what he meant by that, before heading upstairs to bed.

Why would anyone want to be like you?

The day after you let Namjoon sleep on your couch.

You had taken longer than necessary in the shower this morning, pottered around upstairs, procrastinating, which is something you rarely do and all to avoid the man you'd left slumped unconscious on your couch.

You listen for any signs of movement down stairs and when you hear none, part of you hopes he's gone. That he woke up early and drove home, no awkward encounter, no questions, just peace.

You should be so lucky.

As you descend your wooden stairs, you hear the rattle of snoring and roll your eyes.

He lay on his stomach, face squashed on its side with limbs splayed out and hands sagged against your rug.

How were you going to get rid of him?

You prepare a few things in the kitchen before taking some pain killers and a glass of water over. 

You nudge him tentatively with your foot. Nothing. Nudging him again, harder this time, but still nothing.

"Hey." You call harshly into the heavy silence. Nothing.

Inspiration strikes, as your hand lashes out, flicking the glass forward and sending water cascading over him.

He jumps up with a gasp, bolt upright, shock contorting his face.

You bite back a laugh at the sight of his drenched form.

His eyes widen when he focuses on you and then dart around wildly searching for answers.

"I drove you home last night as you could hardly stand but you passed out so I brought you here." You explain in a blasé manner. 

Holding out the pills, he takes them mechanically. 

"I'll just refill your water for you." You skip off with a smirk. His wet hair clinging to his forehead, little water droplets dripping off the end of his nose. The sight deeply satisfying, in more ways than one. As much as you would never admit it, he looked good wet.

He swallows the pills and greedily downs the water you return with. Gasping for air, he finally meets your gaze. "We didn't…" he stumbles on his words and you laugh loudly.

"Trust me, you were in no condition for anything physical last night."

A hint of a smile plays around his mouth but he tries to fight it. "That doesn't sound like you're completely repulsed by the idea?" One of his eyebrows pulls up into a challenging arch.

"Ha! If you were the last man on earth and the human race was left depending on us to continue, only then would I possibly consider it."

A shy smile and a dimple creating an endearing crevice in his cheek. "Well that's not a complete no, so I'll take that."

You shake your head, amused, if not a little perplexed by him.

He sighs, wiping down his damp jeans. "Well, I suppose I better get out of your hair." He stands, seeming slightly unsteady and visibly in pain as he clutches his head. 

"Why don't you stay for breakfast, have some coffee then I'll drive you back to your place in the truck?"

He stares at you with his mouth popped open in a little 'o', the same expression you imagine looking at yourself with. Where in the fuck did that come from? Have you forgotten who he is? 

"If that's ok with you, that would be great...unless you're planning to poison me?" There's humour in his remark but a sincere worry too.

You chuckle as you head over to the stove, switching it on and cracking some eggs into the heated frying pan, the sizzle filling the silence. "I can assure you, I'm more of a 'violence is the answer' type person, in case that wasn't obvious already."

You smile to yourself at the memory of the very first day you met. 

He'd backed his truck into yours, denting the hood and completely knocking off the bumper before driving home. You had greeted him in his living room, not bothering to knock, just letting yourself in, backing him into a corner and threatening him with a wrench. The image of his wide eyed, frozen form brought you a fresh wave of satisfaction as he handed you a wad of cash and uttered frantic apologies. 

"Hmm, so I recall." He replies, brows furrow in thought as he takes a seat at your table, clearly his mind travelling to the same place yours is. You'd gotten off entirely on the wrong foot, and if you were honest, still continued to.

"How do you like your eggs?" 

He smirks. "I'm assuming, 'with a kiss' is pushing it."

You shoot him a glare, even though you feel amusement tug at your lips.

He holds his hands up. "Fair enough, as they come will be fine."

Once breakfast is done, you drive him home, smiling and laughing more than you thought possible with him, you realise he's actually quite humorous when he's not torturing you by his existence. 

You stand awkwardly by his truck waiting for him to say words that are clearly trying to escape from his mouth but he seems to be having trouble forming.

"Thank you...for last night...and this morning. You've been surprisingly kind, even if I really don't deserve it." He looks at his feet while clutching his hat tightly, looking utterly innocent and fragile, suddenly seeming like a much younger man standing in front of you. 

"Don't mention it. It won't happen again, don't worry." You smile playfully as you knock on his truck and leave, feeling his eyes watching you as you saunter off down the dirt road to work.

"I'm sorry, did I just hear that right?" Seokjin asks, his voice shrill, shock making his eyes bulge comically at you. "'He's not that bad' since when, please tell me!? A few days ago you thought he was the devil in disguise." 

You laugh at his reaction and poke him playfully on the chest. "Hey, listen, all I'm saying is we only show people what we want others to see, doesn't mean it's always real."

He thinks for a moment, eyes sparkling with amusement. "So what you're saying is, he acts like Mr big shot money bags but he isn't?" He gives you a quizzical look and checks your temperature with the back of his hand.

You laugh again and shove his hand away. "Yes, I am fine and yes in a way. Sure, he has money and he shows off but maybe he acts like that to hide something else. Maybe he thinks that's what people expect of him, maybe he's scared of something."

Seokjin's windshield wiper laugh shrieks in your ears. "Ok, now I've heard it all. Firstly, there’s nothing deep about this man, other than his cash flow and secondly, you think he's scared? The man is an arrogant moron, end of." 

"Everyone's scared of something, it's not that far fetched."

He leans in to you slightly. "That is a lie. You, my friend, are scared of nothing." He gets up from his bar stool, placing his hat on his head and downing the last of his drink. "The day I see you scared is the day the world ends. There's not a problem you can't get out of with your fists or your smart mouth." He laughs as he leaves the bar.

The irony is, there is one problem that would get infinitely worse with your fists and your smart mouth. Something that would have you terrified beyond imagination. Something you plan to hide from for the rest of your existence.

Five months since Namjoon moved to town.

You are back at his door, although this time you stand on the doorstep and pound angrily to be let in.

When he opens it, he looks hesitant. "You don't usually knock, just barging in is more you style rig-?"

"Why was there a man taking photos of me today?" The words leave your mouth in a furious rush, the need to be out and to hear another dreaded deal he's made. To prove yourself right about the type of man he is.

"What? You mean the photographer?"

You take a shaky breath to calm yourself. "That's usually what they do isn't it? Take photos?" You say between gritted teeth.

He frowns. "Well, yes, I don't understand why you're upset? I listened to you and told you I'm not building the mall, I've hired someone to take pictures of the town as it is, just to get business for my Hotel, and you're still upset with me!? Jesus, I can't win." He runs a frustrated hand through his swept back hair, forehead exposed - it suits him best that way. 

You melt slightly under his accusing stare and suddenly you feel embarrassed by your reaction, it's not all anger, it's fear clenching your heart in its iron grasp. You want to scream, to run from it but you can't, it follows you. It followed you here and to the town you were in before. It will follow you wherever you are. You know this, you've accepted it and this is why you can't afford to get attached to someone, not romantically. It would cause too much heartache on both sides, when you'd eventually have to leave again.

"No, I'm not upset about that." You sigh and rub a hand across your eyes, exhaustion and exasperation weighing you down like a ton of bricks. "I just….I can't have my picture taken. Do what you want, but please, I'm begging you, do not put me in them." You stare at him with desperation, flitting from one eye to the other. 

"Ok, ok." He says quickly, putting an arm on yours to reassure you. The touch soothes you for a moment and takes you by surprise. 

"I'll make sure they delete the ones of you, ok? You have my word."

You see the honesty radiate from him and you relax. You're on the verge of tears with relief and happiness, the fear deflating as you stand here.

"Thank you!" You plead.

There's a moment of silence between you and you're not quite sure why you're still standing here.

"You know, if there's anything you ever want to tell me or talk about, you can trust me. I know I've not been great but I'll always be here if you need someone to lean on." 

An odd warmth spreads through your chest, until you feel it's ready to burst. You can't help the smile that stretches across your lips.

"I know you can bear the brunt but sometimes it's nice to not have to." He adds, eyes wide and welcoming, enticing you with his earnest expression and the dimple that appears from his sideways smile.

You grab him by the collar and pull him to you, lips crashing against his with ferocious hunger. You feel him freeze against you before he returns it with feverish hands running down your back and cupping you under the buttocks, lifting your legs beneath you.

You wrap them tightly around his waist as he leads you quickly inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

He doesn't make it up the stairs, the plush living room rug against your back a suitable substitute for his bedroom. 

Your mouths dance, tongues interlacing all the while his hands are everywhere all at once, the heat from them setting your veins alight with fiery lust.

Your hands find his hair and your fingers run through his silky locks, using them to pull him even closer to you.

He moans into your mouth, the sound enticing you further.

"I want you so bad." he says in a breathless whisper.

You hook your leg over his and push him, flipping him on his back, straddling him.

You pull your button up off over your head and he groans when he discovers you aren't wearing a bra. His hands slide quickly up your waist to fondle your breasts, plunging his teeth into his generous bottom lip before he sits up and sucks a nipple into his mouth. A hiss escapes you as pleasure shoots straight to your core and has you grinding against his denim clad erection. 

He cups the side of your face and brings you back down to his mouth, your lips meeting once again in a hot, fervent kiss.

His lips find their way to your ear. "Stand up." 

There was no authority in his voice, just a soft pleading, one you could not resist. As you rise, his fingers were already undoing your jean buttons then pulling them down around your ankles and helping you step out of them. 

On his knees looking up at you with heavy lids, as he places a faint kiss against your clothed sex. The sight of it heavenly, you couldn't help but admire his beauty, the sheer amount of it having escaped your notice before.

He slips a finger under your panties and pulls them aside, lips instantly on you, hot and wet, causing your head to snap back with explicit language echoing past your lips.  

He chuckles against you, the vibration making you gasp as his tongue delves to your most sensitive parts, a venture no previous man has been. The sensation; mind blowing and you find yourself grinding against him. The relentless pace of his tongue against your swollen bud has you crying out, hands gripped into his hair as you come undone against his mouth. His arm snakes around your waist, supporting your trembling frame as your moans of ecstasy repeatedly fill the silence of the room.

As the spasms of pleasure subside, you're vaguely aware of Namjoon removing his trousers, his hand still in contact with your skin, as you drift back down from your euphoric cloud. 

You mount him before he's finished pulling his pants from his ankles, his hands find your buttocks and guide you onto him. You lower yourself, sliding him into you.

He lays back, a look of pure adoration as he watches you wind your hips round, back and forth and up and down, until he's a writhing, moaning mess underneath you. His lips constantly find your skin, leaving moist trails, cold from the air, all over you.

Your bodies crashing against each other as you eagerly chase your end. 

Feeling yourself tightening around him, coiled like a spring ready to bound into a new realm of elation.

"That's it baby, let go." He says softly, clinging onto your hips to keep you moving.

Your orgasm explodes, more intense than before, completely taking over you as you contract around him. He joins you, filling you with his warm seed, cradling you in his arms as you both ride out your spasms of bliss. 

When your mind has returned to your body, you slump onto the rug, your bare bodies beside each other, as he turns towards your back his fingers skate over the large scar on your back. You go rigid for a moment, preparing yourself for his questions, attempting to scramble up a lie in your mind. His lips find the puckered pink skin and place a chaste kiss on it. His questions don't come, instead he wraps you in his arms and holds you close enough you can feel his pounding heart against you.

No words are exchanged. There isn't anything to be said but you feel everything and more in that moment.

Two weeks since you had sex with Namjoon.

"Very nice. You've really captured the beauty of the town in these." you smile at him and lay a gentle hand on his knee. Something he chooses not to ignore, placing his hand over yours while he continues clicking through the various pictures on his hotel website.

"Yea, the photographer did a really good job." he looks over to you, with a raised eyebrow. "So you approve of these?" 

"Of course." you say, standing and grabbing your jacket draped across the stairway banister. 

"That's a first." he teases, a smirk playing across his full lips, calling out to you as usual.

You drape your arms around his shoulders and place a slow kiss on his neck, the moan you entice from him has your lips smiling against his skin.

"Stay." he says quietly.

"I can't, I have to work." It's regretful but true. "Besides, I've been holed up in here for nearly two weeks. Time for a change of scenery."

He pouts as he takes your hand, pulling it towards his chest. "There's nothing wrong with the scenery here...especially when you're upstairs...in my bed...naked."

His eyes hold burning heat, pupils blown with longing and it sends throbbing lust right between your legs.

"How about, you think about me naked and in your bed...until I finish work, then I'll make up for all that torture." you reply, winking at him before your lips meet in a passionate, fiery kiss. 

No one has ever kissed you like Namjoon. No one has given you this feeling...one you can't quite describe. For the first time in years, you feel completely yourself and...happy. Your chest swells when you look at him and you find it odd how someone you could hardly stand, now has such an effect on you.

"This evening is going to drag." he rolls his eyes. "I'll pick you up after work."

Your insides grin. Part of you wanted to keep him your dirty little secret and the other part wanted everyone to see you together.

You nod and plant one more kiss against his mouth, as you tear your body and your eyes away from him. 

That’s when you see it.

Your face. On his screen. Bold as a summer's day.

Your stomach drops, turning into a lump of concrete inside you, weighing you down. Rage alights in you but betrayal counters it, racing through your veins in your shaking limbs and spilling out of your eyes in hot tears.

Namjoon follows your eye line and freezes. Neither of you move. 

All you can do is stare at the smiling, care free photo of you, behind the bar. And all you can think of is, how many people have possibly seen this? Who has and what now? 

He turns back to you, eyes wide and encased with a frown, a pleading hand outstretched towards you, as you realise you're backing up and heading to his front door.

"I didn't know." he says quietly.

 "You promised me that I wouldn't be in any of them!" you yell, skin hot and your stomach churning. "I can't believe I let you fool me. I genuinely thought you were telling me the truth. How could you do this to me?" 

Something flickers across his face but it's gone before you realise what it is, as he takes another step towards you. "I didn't do this!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, every part of you throbbing with treachery. 

He drops his hand, sensing it's useless. 

"Clearly your word means as little as I do to you." you close the distance between you, a finger pointing in his face. "If I ever see you in my bar, so help me, I'll make you unable to ride your horse for a very long time."

He opens his mouth to speak. 

"I beg you, give me one reason." you spit, venom encasing every word. You storm out, feeling sick to your stomach. This is the man that you've been having the most amazing, passionate sex with for the last two weeks. You've been inseparable, opened yourself up to him in every way. Laid yourself bare and vulnerable for him.

You wanted to scrub yourself down, feeling like you've gone past enemy lines and turned against your own. He was a risk, you'd known that but had still let yourself get caught up in him. Believed in his lies. In him. You left him in the middle of the room, staring after you, getting in your truck and driving. After calling Jimin to cover you, you head to the next town, where you can be alone and drink until you forget.

Three months since Namjoon betrayed you. 

You've been a wreck. For three months you've been constantly looking over your shoulder, sick to your stomach. Your emergency bag packed and hidden in your truck, should you need to flee. Your life shoved in that small leather bag. You didn't have much, that was clear to you but it seemed sadder than ever to have your most important things in one tiny holder. No one that would care when you were gone. Maybe Seokjin, but he'd forget about you eventually, any friends you make always do.

Namjoon had not been back into the bar, not while you were working anyway, you're not sure he'd have the guts. You had seen him fleetingly on a few occasions, his hopeful glances towards you rebuked by your impassive, stony face. 

At some point Seokjin informed you, your photo had been removed from the website, Namjoon clearly trying to make amends for his deception - unsuccessful and useless attempts. You do not bend or yield to someone who has stabbed you in the back, you learnt that the hard way a long time ago...quite literally too.

You shrug into your jacket, noticing how much roomier it had become recently. Eating has not been high on the priority list when your stomach churns with anxiety and trepidation. You turn off the lights and head to the door of the bar, keys in hand.

A squeak from the hinges sounds into the silence, you look to see the doors wobbling slightly, the breeze catching it. 

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck are on end, goose bumps leave a bumpy trail across your skin. You're just being paranoid. No one's here. It’s just the wind. 

Your feet move quickly to the doors, imagining you can hear following footsteps. Just as you reach your exit, a swift, sharp pull on your hair sends you slamming into the wooden boards.

A weight on top of you, pinning you down and unable to fight. A hand across your mouth to stop you from screaming and making it difficult to breathe.

His scent. It encases you, trapping you in another time and freezing you in those moments, those memories. The abusive days, the violent temper, the possessiveness, the cuts and bruises, the stabbing. Staring death in the face had been the final moment to give you the confidence to run, to escape but forever looking over your shoulder, forever living in fear.

Terror has taken over your body, not even trying to fight at this point.

"Did you miss me?" his sickly voice whispers in your ear.

Inside you're screaming, begging and pleading but nothing comes out into the silence, just the sound of his harsh, excited breathing.

"I knew I'd find you, knew it wouldn't be long until someone led me to you." 

You could feel your limbs shaking wildly underneath him.

"You knew I'd find you didn't you? You led me here with that photo, I knew you missed me, baby." he kisses your forehead, your skin crawling beneath his lips. 

"I'm going to take my hand away now, you're not going to scream, are you? You're going to be a good girl, aren't you?"

His words twist your insides in the most repulsive way as you nod your head.

His hand comes away, freeing your face and you gasp, desperately filling your lungs with air. 

"It's so good to see your face, baby." 

Your eyes, now adjusted to the dark, could make out his teeth, his lips pulled into a sinister smile.

"Will you at least let me sit up, Yoongi?" you ask, sounding much braver than you feel.

"You're not going to do anything stupid." he orders.

"No." your face is deadpan because it has to be, a slither of anything he deems untoward would make matters much worse for you.

Even as your brain frantically tries to find you a way out, any idea hitting an immediate dead-end, your face remains impassive.

He releases your wrists above your head and slowly climbs off of you, still crouched and ready to pounce should you run. 

You had to be smart about this if you were going to get away, you had to think. THINK! 

"You've been very bad, haven't you? Running from me like that. And I know you like playing games but I've not appreciated this hide and seek exchange between us. Four years I've been searching. That's a long time, baby." his menacing tone has you on edge, wondering just what he is going to do.

"You left me to die." you reply, recalling that night with a chill creeping up your spine. A knife in the back and for what, having said a few too many words to the corner shop owner, like 'how are you?'

You wonder what type of weapon he has on him tonight and you push the thought away.

He stares at you shocked, as if attempted murder is so far fetched from what he's capable of. 

"Who do you think called the ambulance? I would never let you die, I would never let you leave me."

Lies. You knew a passer-by had rung the ambulance, had stayed with you until they came and had waited to hear your prognosis at the hospital. You even met them a few weeks later, when they brought you flowers. But for now he had to think you believed him.

"Is that what they told you?" he leaned in stroking your face and you had to swallow the recoil that your body reacted with.

"Is that why you've been running from me? Oh baby, you should have said and we could have had this all straightened out, wouldn't we, hm?" 

He grips your chin, keeping it aimed directly at him, his fingers just forceful enough to leave bruises.

He watches your mouth, licking his lips. He wants to kiss you and you're preparing yourself for it.

"How many other men have been on these lips? How many have been inside them?" he sneers pushing his thumb, harshly inside your mouth, the taste bitter on your tongue. The Yoongi you know, well and truly here.

"No one."

"Don't lie to me." he squeezes your jaw, pain blazing underneath his fingertips  causing a whimper to escape your lips.

The satisfied look in his eyes has bile rising in your throat.

"I'm not lying. You think I'd want another man anywhere near me." 

He smiles, clearly not catching the bite in your words.

"If I find out different, there's going to be problems." he sing songs. "You understand?"

You nod and he releases your chin, harshly discarding you like a useless piece of meat.

He stands and offers a hand out to help you up. You want to spit at it and slap it out of your face but you shiver at the reaction that would bring.

You take it and he pulls you up, harsher than was necessary but you ignore it. He's on you, stalking towards you, backing you against the hard, wooden panels of the wall behind.

Your heart pounds violently, the sound all you can hear, you can hear your breathing spike as does his. He's excited, but you're trying to survive. 

He closes the small amount of distance between you, his body pressed firmly against yours. One hand grabs your waist, pinning you harshly in place, the other travels to your throat. He keeps it there pressed lightly against your windpipe, not doing any damage but enough to show you the threat that's there. You swallow involuntarily. 

The wind picks up outside and you hear the door wobbling, your attention back on it. How can you get to it? 

You can hit him with something, but it would have to be hard enough to take him down and give you enough of a chance to run. Every thought seemed risky.

"Are you going to be a good girl and come with me willingly?" he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Yoongi, I can't just pick up and leave."

He adds a pressure to throat, fear rising up in you hot and fast.

You put your palms up. "I'm not saying no. I'm saying, I have a job here, people know me. If I get up and leave without a word, they'll think something awful's happened and that'll create problems for us."

He watches you for a moment, eyes thin and suspicious, you can practically see the cogs turning in his mind. "What do you suggest then?" Before you can even open your mouth, he adds. "I'm not leaving you." 

"Why don't you stay here with me for a little while?" you can feel the sweat on the back of your neck, the idea of him being with you any longer than he has been already filling you with absolute horror.

"Then we can announce that I'm moving back with you."

"How can I trust you, after the way you've behaved?" his face is millimetres from yours suddenly, the tips of his noses touching. 

"W-what do you want me to do to prove it to you?" you stammer, losing your composure momentarily.

"Kiss me. Like you used to." he smirks, knowing that towards the end of your relationship, touching him in any way had repulsed you, you hadn't kept that a secret.

You take a breath to steel yourself, if this is what you had to do…

Namjoon's shadowed face captures your attention as it appears just behind Yoongi's head and directly in your line of sight, holding - what looks like - a metal crowbar in the air. He nods to you.

The relief you feel cascades around your body, washing waves of solace through you, your skin tingling as your adrenaline spikes even higher. Everything seems much more hopeful in this moment and you've never been so happy to see Kim Namjoon. 

Your eyes flash back to Yoongi, you could not lose it now, otherwise it's another person to be endangered by him.

You grab either side of his face, tilting your head, he closes his eyes as he prepares for your lips to touch his. He moans from anticipation, the sound bringing a fresh wave of nausea over you.

You meet Namjoon's eyes once more, watch him raise the crow bar higher, preparing to swing…

You push Yoongi's face as hard away from you as fast as you can muster and duck. Your eyes squeeze shut as you hear his gasp and then the noise of the metal connecting with his skull. 

"Run! Go now!" 

You do. Your legs charging forward before you even have a chance to process Namjoon's words to you. You push through the double doors, the cool night air hitting your skin and giving you added power to your legs. You race along the dirt path, hearing the ruckus ensue in the bar. You stop. Namjoon's face bloodied and bruised flashes in front of your eyes. An image you can't escape.

You couldn't leave him to deal with this man alone. You had to face your past. Face him, like you would face anyone else threating your life, or your town, or your friends. You yank out your phone and dial Seokjin's number.

"Do you know what time it is?" his voice thick with sleep sounds on the line.

'Jin, I need you to call the sheriff and come down to the bar! I'm in trouble. Bring your gun!" you hang up not giving him a chance to respond as you race back to Namjoon. 

You throw open the doors and see the two men throwing punches in and out of tight holds as they roll around on the floor. 

How could you get to Yoongi without hurting Namjoon?

You stand hesitating in the doorway.

But watching Yoongi take control and pin him down before connecting punch after punch, the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, something inside you snaps. 

You charge at him, bringing your foot up to connect with his face, the impact sending him flying backwards. By the sound, you're pretty sure you've broken his nose.

You crouch down to Namjoon as he sits up, wiping his bloody mouth on the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

"You ok?" you ask, eyes wide as they skim over his face, assessing him.

"What are you doing here!?" he exclaims, desperate eyes pleading with you to leave. "I told you to get out of here!"

You want to say so many things in that moment, looking at him and realising; he's got a good heart, even if it is a little misguided at times. Looking at him and realising all the unspoken feelings between you. From the moment you met him, he's been a disaster and every time he tried to be nice and make an effort you violently pushed him away to protect yourself. But you couldn't do it anymore. You cupped his purple marked face in your hand,  wishing you could erase these marks, left because of you.

He leans into your hand, just for a moment before his attention is behind you. Grabbing your waist and pinning you to the floor before spinning on top of you, shielding you from the skull cracking snap of the gunshot. The deafening sound echoing in your ears, as pain sneaks through the hole in your left arm, the one underneath Namjoon's weighted, limp body.

Six months since the shooting, Christmas day.

Your first Christmas without the thought of Yoongi hanging over your head like a dark cloud, the kind that gives you headaches and makes your mind feel heavy and slow.

Seokjin had gotten there with Sheriff Jungkook just after the first shot rang out. 

You don't remember everything but you do remember hearing the second shot clap like thunder around you, a split second of light illuminating the thick darkness, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. 

That was it, he was gone, no more looking over your shoulder, no more running and no more fear following you with every decision. The demise of Yoongi. You are free.

You feel lighter as you open the oven and baste the turkey once again.

"When is dinner going to be ready?" Seokjin whines from the sofa.

"Oh, have a little patience." you scold him.

You are more than grateful to have him with you at this time of year, seeing as neither of you have any family here, it's worked out nicely. 

"I see Jimin is doing well after taking over Namjoon's Hotel." he remarks.

You nod. "Yep, business is going well for him. I'm glad. I will miss him at the pub though." 

"What about Namjoon's house?"

Your hand stills, stopping stirring the vegetables bubbling away in the pan and a hard swallow slides down your throat. "What about it?"

"Is it going on the market?"

You glance over and notice him watching you from the corner of his eye.

"I'm not sure, it's not been discussed." 

He nods carefully.

Footsteps down your stairs have your head turning towards them. The sight of him, bare chested, hair swept back effortlessly almost takes your breath away.

"We can discuss it now, if you like?" Namjoon teases you and places a kiss on the side of your head. "Seeing as you keep ignoring my question."

Seokjin sits bolt upright. "What's this? What question?"

You laugh. "Not that question!"

The disappointment across Jin's face is obvious.

"I keep asking her to sell this place and move in with me but I haven't had an answer yet." Namjoon watches you, an arrogant look on his face as he turns towards your guest.

The wrinkled, pink scar on his back greets your view, a perfect circle from where the bullet entered. He was lucky. You'd almost lost him before you even had him, before you realised how much you wanted, needed him. 

You go toward him, wrapping your arms around his stomach. You go on tip-toes to kiss his scar. You match. Two scars in exactly the same place caused by the same person. In a sick way that connected you forever and the thought brought you comfort somehow. 

Namjoon had saved your life, endangering his in the process. Now it's you who would protect him from anything. 

"Yes." you say quietly against his back.

He turns, wrapping you in his arms.

"What?"

You look up at his bewildered face. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

His face blooms into the most beautiful smile, making your insides flutter. He brings his lips crashing down against yours, a kiss that takes your breath away and makes you giddy.

This is the true start to your life, after existing for many years you're now truly living, with the sound of Seokjin's cheers and hollas in the background.

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[baepsaesbae]

Sugar, Snow, and Everything Glows

Pairing— Park Jimin x female reader ft. OT7 

Genre— Fluff, College au, Friends to Lovers, Holiday au

Warnings— None

Word Count— 3.6k

Summary— You’ve gone the entire semester being friends with Park Jimin. Now that the holiday season is in full swing, will things take a turn?

A/N—  This gift was created through @bwcsecretsanta​ event and is for @pjmsdior​. Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa, Winter Bear ❄️🐻  It has been so fun getting to know you and sending fun little asks. Please stay in touch and know that you can always come chat with me! I hope you enjoy my present, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~

“We only have two days before everyone goes home. Well, I guess it’s more like one and a half now. We gotta make this count!” Jungkook enthusiastically stated to everyone crammed into his tiny dorm room.

“We just finished our last final, can’t we chill out for tonight? We can watch a holiday movie or something,” Taehyung complained.

“That’s exactly why we should celebrate! I heard they’re having a floor wide gingerbread house competition tonight,” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, we all know that, Kookie. We literally all live on the same floor and have the same RA,” you reminded him, “Honestly, I’m down to make a gingerbread house. I haven’t done that in forever.”

“Then it’s decided, we’re building edible houses tonight. We still have a few hours to kill so we can watch a movie if you guys want,” Jimin suggested.

With everyone in agreement, all four of you crammed onto Jungkook’s tiny twin bed to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000). Your first semester of college has been a success. You aced all your classes and lucked out on being in a great friend group. You met all three boys at your first dorm mixer. Thankfully, you all came to a mutual agreement that dorm parties were way too crowded and not even that fun if you weren’t completely drunk. So, you all decided to leave together and played ping pong in the lobby. All four of you had been good friends since.

Jimin and Taehyung were roommates and were practically inseparable. For once, it seemed like the random roommate system created a perfect match. Jungkook was the luckiest of all, since his roommate dropped out early on and he never got a replacement one so he had a room all to himself. The other boys joked that he could have hookups any time he wanted but despite his good looks, Jungkook wawa rather shy when it came to girls. He was awkward when you first met, but he easily warmed up to you and now treats you like one of the boys (Jimin often has to remind him of this when he tells him to keep his poop jokes to a minimum). 

You used to get dirty looks from other freshman girls when they saw you surrounded by all the cute boys, but you learned to ignore them. You tried going on dates with some guys, but freshman boys are still just high schoolers disguised as college students. Needless to say, you never found any guy that interested you. 

Of course, no one could blame you for having a tiny crush on Jimin. You liked everything about him. He was extremely thoughtful, very intelligent, and was in fact a very cute boy. However, you kept your romantic feelings a secret because you didn’t want to ruin the group dynamics. 

These thoughts were hard to suppress when you were literally pressed up against his chest. In order for everyone to fit comfortably, Jimin offered for you to lean against him as he put his arm around you. The other boys paid no attention to his move, which you were thankful for because they would have made fun of you for blushing. You couldn’t pay attention to the movie. You were engulfed by Jimin’s scent (he wore a light yet alluring cologne), and your heart was beating so loudly you were worried that he could hear it.  

“Should we wear Christmas sweaters?” Jungkook glanced at the clock as soon as the movie ended.

“I don’t have any,” you shook your head.

“I have an extra, you can borrow it if you’d like, “Jimin offered. 

“Perfect! Tae do you have one?” Jungkook didn’t give you time to reply.

“I have one with polar bears on it,” Taehyung answered.

“That’ll work! Let’s meet back here in 10,” Jungkook stated as he stripped off his shirt.

“Stop showing off,” Taehyung laughed as he slapped the younger boy’s abs, “C’mon ___, let’s go get changed.”

The other boys’ room was just a couple doors down from Jungkook’s. Taehyung went to change in the bathroom while Jimin picked out a sweater for you. You waited patiently while you looked around Jimin’s side of the room. Your gaze stopped at his polaroid collection that hung above his desk. Looking at them made you smile as you reminisce the fond memories from throughout the semester. You saw the boys laughing and smiling, a surprising number of Jungkook shirtless, and a few selfies that only got Jimin’s forehead as he tried to fit everyone in the picture. 

Then you saw one you’ve never seen before. It was a solo picture of you from Halloween. You wore one of your favorite black dresses with flowy sleeves paired with a pointy witch hat that brought the look together. Upon a closer look, you realized you weren’t even looking at the camera. Instead, you were looking away at an angle that made it seem like you were doing one of those classic model poses.

“I didn’t know you took this,” you called to Jimin, who was rummaging through his closet.

“Oh. Yeah, you just looked picturesque in that moment. I’m glad I got to capture it,” Jimin said in an uncharacteristically bashful way, “Here’s my Santa sweater,” he handed you the article of clothing.

“I actually look kinda cute here, so you did a good job,” you teased him as you put the sweater on over your shirt.

“You always look cute, so don’t worry about that,” Jimin smiled softly.

“You guys ready?” Taehyung barged in, ruining the moment. 

“Yep!” you quickly answered and walked out of the room. Jimin was always sweet, but was he purposely flirting with you there?

“Give me a second, I’m almost ready,” Jimin responded with a tinge of annoyance. 

Jungkook was already waiting outside the room, apparently too impatient to wait for everyone to show up in his room. He was sporting a green sweater that was obnoxiously decorated with real ornaments.

“Did you make that yourself?” Taehyung asked in awe.

“Made it last year with my family; they insisted I bring it with me,” Jungkook shrugged, “Let’s go win this thing!”

“Whaddup guys?” your RA, Jin, greeted the group as you entered the lobby. Four gingerbread kits were set up on a table in the middle of the lobby. Jin glanced at his watch and sighed.

“Hey Jin. Ready for the holidays?” you asked.

“Ready to get away from all you troublemakers,” Jin laughed, “Just kidding. You guys are the only ones who show up to my events, so you’re all automatically my favorites. I had to invite a few of my friends to help make it a real competition.”

“There’s already four people here though, that’s all you need,” Taehyung observed.

“That’s no fun. This is a team competition,” Jin explained, “Counting my friends, I think we can split up perfectly into teams of two.”

“I call ___,” Jimin immediately spoke up.

“Dude, I thought we were gonna be partners,” Taehyung looked butt hurt.

“Don’t worry Tae, we’ll kick their asses. Let’s combine our creative juices together,” Jungkook slung an arm around Taehyung.

“Fine. But keep your juices to yourself,” Taehyung sighed.

“What’s good, party people?” an unfamiliar voice shouted. 

“Ready to show these Freshman how to properly make a gingerbread house?” Jin called out to his friends, “These goons are Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok. I’ll pair up with Namjoon.”

“Sope in the HOUSE!” Yoongi and Hoseok hollered in unison.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention that the winner gets a $50 giftcard,” Jin winked, “Ready, set, go!”

You and Jimin quickly got to unwrapping all of the goods. You were in charge of putting the house together as Jimin thought about how to decorate. The icing that held the walls together looked a bit messy, but you could cover that up with even more frosting.

“Wanna start icing the details and I’ll add the candy?” Jimin suggested.

“Yes chef,” you nodded and got back to work.

Jimin delicately added gumdrops and mints to the roof and added licorice to line the windows. You moved on to take care of the front yard. You added candy canes to make an arches along the front walkway, which was lined with kisses. More and more candy was being added onto the house up until Jin’s timer rang.

“Time’s up! Step away from the houses! Let’s start from this side with Jungkook and Taehyung’s house,” Jin announced.

“It’s certainly...avant garde,” Jimin commented. Icing was piped around the house in intricate patterns and candy was strewn across the house with no rhyme or reason.

“We didn’t want to be confined to the cookie cutter gingerbread house norms,” Taehyung said proudly.

“I can’t tell the windows apart from the door,” Namjoon whispered.

“You’re not supposed to!” Jungkook snapped, “Our house is anything you want to imagine.”

“Alright, moving on-- what the hell? Did you guys even try?” Jin shot a disgusted glare at the SOPE team.

“In my defense, I haven’t had dinner yet,” Yoongi shrugged.

“And I thought it wasn’t fair that only Yoongi got to eat it so I joined him,” Hoseok hung his head. 

You stifled your laughter as you looked at their plate. Candies were piled up and the house laid unconstructed with many bites taken out of it. Jin shook his head and continued to present his house, which honestly was not much better than his friends’ lack of a house.

“This one was my bad,” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck.

The gingerbread house looked like it was struggling to stand up. The walls were lopsided and the icing was messily laced around the entire thing.

“I wanted to go for a White Christmas look and have the roof be completely covered with the icing. But thanks to Namjoon’s sloppy work, it got too heavy and the house started to fall apart--” the house collapsed right as Jin said that.

“___ and I made a picture perfect gingerbread house,” Jimin boasted. It was true. Your house looked like it was done by a professional. The icing was well done and the candies were placed in all the right places. No one else made a front lawn like you guys.

“It looks like we have a clear winner,” Jin nodded.

“Good try guys, better luck next time,” Jungkook stepped up to claim the prize.

“___ and Jimin are the winners,” Jin handed you the giftcard while looking at Jungkook in disbelief. 

“Woohoo! Great job __!” Jimin cheered and hugged you tightly. You once again caught a whiff of his cologne and felt yourself melting in his arms. 

“Boo! Lames!” Jungkook yelled at you both.

“Wait, is it snowing?” Yoongi said as he looked out the window.

Sure enough, white flurries were swirling around as snow landed on the ground. It must have been snowing for a bit, as it was actually sticking to the ground and there was at least an inch of it. 

“Let’s go let’s go!” Jimin took your hand and dragged you to the elevator.

“You too, Jin. I wanna pelt my RA in the face,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Jin.

“Oh you’re on, kid. Let’s go boys,” Jin motioned to his friends.

Cold air whipped across your face as soon as you walked outside. You weren’t wearing nearly enough warm layers and the cold chilled you to the bone.You stuck your tongue out to catch snowflakes as you shivered. Jimin wrapped his arms around you, catching you off guard.

“Cold?” he whispered in your ear.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted as you felt your ears warm up. Right as you said that, a small white ball exploded on your chest. Jungkook had his signature bunny smile plastered on his face as he laughed hysterically. He was on a rampage, and you laughed as you watched him chase Jin around with a gigantic snowball.

“Oh, it’s on!” Jimin yelled at him as he started to form ammunition of his own. 

You went to stake your own tiny claim of land to make snowballs in. Taehyung was running around with an arm full, pelting anyone in sight. Endless bouts of laughter echoed outside of the dormitory as you and your friends engaged in an intense snowball fight. There was no clear winner, but no one could feel their extremities by the end of it.

“Alright alright truce! You kids go take a hot shower before you get sick. I don’t wanna get blamed for anyone having an unpleasant holiday season,” Jin finally shooed all of his kids out of the snow. 

“I can’t believe this. Why do my parents have to come pick me up a day early?” Jungkook complained as he sprawled out on his bed.

“Because they love you and are excited to see you, Kookie. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to partake in more shenanigans next semester,” you patted his ankle in reassurance.

“If you’re leaving, then I’ll probably drive home today too. I miss Tannie,” Taehyung sighed.

“Why? ___ and Jimin are still here. You guys can have fun without me,” Jungkook pouted. Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a quick glance at each other before Taehyung talked about how much he missed his adorable little fluffy companion. 

“I’m telling you, you have to sneak Tannie over here next semester,” you joked. 

“He’ll get too excited and bark. Jin is chill, but probably not that chill,” Taehyung said somberly, “But don’t worry! We can take a field trip to my house next semester for sure. My mom makes the best food.”

“I can’t wait buddy,” Jimin smiled as Jungkook finally got out of bed to start packing. All three of you saw Jungkook off once his family came to pick him up. His mother was sweet and you could tell that he got his charisma from his father. Taehyung hugged both of you goodbye and you watched him drive off.

“Guess it’s just us left huh,” Jimin observed.

“What do you wanna do? It’s not even 11am yet,” you checked the time, “Oh! How do you wanna split up the gift card? It’s a visa so it can be used anywhere.”

“Why don’t we spend it together? That way it’s fair. What do you say to one final outing to commemorate the end of a great semester?” Jimin offered.

“Sounds good! Do you wanna stay on campus or?” you trailed off.

“I have an idea,” Jimin nodded, “But it’s a surprise! Meet in my room after we get dressed? Change into something a little warmer.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes.

You showed up in front of Jimin’s door wearing a cozy sweater a couple minutes later. You also sprayed on some of your favorite perfume, but he probably wouldn’t notice. Nor would he notice the extra effort you put into styling your hair. 

“Hey you ready to have some fun?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, “You look...nice.”

“Thanks, you too. Now will you tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way. C’mon let’s go catch the train!” Jimin led you by the hand down the hallway yet again.

The way he said that you looked nice made you feel self conscious. He had the same tone that people have when someone really doesn’t look nice but they were too far into the sentence to correct themselves. Now sitting together on the train, you wondered if you were wearing too much perfume.

“How do you feel about ice skating?” Jimin asked.

“I love it. Haven’t done it in a while though,” you answered.

“Perfect! I realize I probably should’ve made sure you enjoy skating before surprising you with it,” Jimin laughed nervously.

“This still makes for a fine impromptu date,” you laughed with him before realizing what you said.

“Date?”

“Sure is weird not having those two around causing a scene!” you interrupted him.

“Um, yeah. They’re good dudes,” Jimin awkwardly agreed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You finally get some alone time with Jimin and you’re making it all weird. The other boys always made sure there was never a dull moment during your escapades. You wished they were here right now.

“This is our stop,” Jimin tapped on your knee.

The snow had stuck overnight, making everything that the sun touched glisten. Your spirits lifted as you walked around the decorated town, the festivity of everything seeped into you. Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, and there were big red bows on nearly everything. 

“You good? You seem kinda out of it,” Jimin nudged you. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it,” you shot him a fake smile.

“Hey, don’t lie to me. I’d like to think I know you better than that. What’s wrong?” Jimin prodded.

“It’s nothing really. It’s silly, believe me,” you replied quickly.

“___,” Jimin said in a serious tone.

“I didn’t mean to say ‘date’. It was just a stupid slip up and I guess I was worried about making this awkward when you’re really just trying to be a good friend and--”

“This is a date,” Jimin stated.

“It--what?” you were surprised.

“The boys and I have been planning this since last month. We figured it would be the only natural way for us to spend time together. Alone,” Jimin blushed as he looked at the ground.

“If you wanted to make it seem natural then you probably shouldn’t have disguised it as an accidental stroke of luck,” you crossed your arms, “And the way you said I looked nice earlier made me feel like I’ve had something on my face this whole time.”

“No no! You really do look nice! I was actually gonna say super cute but I chickened out. Aw, ___, you look lovely. I’m sorry I made you self conscious,” Jimin pulled you in for a hug, “I’ve liked you for a while, but I was scared that you didn’t feel the same way. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget about this whole date thing and just skate as friends,” he whispered. 

“I was scared of ruining the group so I never wanted to tell you that I like you,” you responded once the hug ended.

“I guess we both goofed. So can we call this an official date?” Jimin asked with a hopeful smile.

“Yes, yes we can,” you laughed.

“Sweet. Since it’s a date, can I hold your hand?” Jimin held out his hand and you happily took it. He led you to the ice rink as you both laughed and made fun of each other for being so coy for the entire semester.

“So how long have you liked me?” you asked.

“Would it be cheesy to say since I first laid eyes on you?”

“Yes.”

“Then since I first laid eyes on you,” Jimin was pleased with his answer.

“And the other two knew?” 

“The entire time,” Jimin confirmed, “It was actually Taehyung who came up with this plan.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out normally?” you tilted your head.

“Honestly, we never thought of that,” Jimin admitted.

“You boys are all so dumb,” you laughed.

“True, but it worked!” Jimin defended, “We’re here! You got the gift card on you?”

After paying for the ice skate rentals, it was now you leading Jimin into the ice rink. It had been a while since you last skated, and you were eager to glide across the ice again. You dragged Jimin behind you as you trudged forward.

“Do you not know how to skate?” you looked back at him.

“I do, but this is more fun,” Jimin smiled. You let go of his hand and took off. You laughed as he struggled to chase you. His version of skating was more like inching forward very very slowly with the grace of a newborn deer. You skated circles around him to tease him. The teasing continued until you both wore yourselves out (and your rental time was up). 

“That was fun,” you announced happily.

“Speak for yourself, I lost track of how many times I fell on my butt,” Jimin rubbed his backside with a sad frown.

“7 times. And you fell onto your knees 3 times,” you informed him, “Do you wanna grab something to eat to make you feel better?”

“Some hot chocolate would smack right now,” he nodded.  

 “Let’s go get you warmed up big boy. Wanna go to Starbucks or something?” 

“I have some hot chocolate back in the dorm. Can we heat that up and watch a movie?” Jimin asked sweetly. You nodded and made your way back to the train station. You leaned onto Jimin’s shoulder on the way back, enjoying your new freedom to be a little flirty with him.

Once back in Jimin’s dorm room, you made the hot chocolate while he changed into pants that didn’t have ice all over them. Both of you snuggled together on Jimin’s bed while Die Hard played on his laptop (believe it or not, that counts as a Christmas movie). 

“Would you say today’s date was a success?” Jimin asked before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’d say so. I think we get along well,” you nodded.

“Well that’s a relief. I can take you on more next semester if that’s okay with you,” he looked into your eyes.

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. This semester definitely ended on a high note. Tis the season.

Published December 25, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

#bwcssy2 #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #clubjimin #bts fluff #park jimin fluff #kpop fluff #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin #bts #ot7 fluff

[coepiteamare]

you feel like a holiday

pairing: namjoon x female!reader genre: mostly fluff, a tinge of angst, a lot of mishaps, mall workers  warnings: language, mentions of mild burns, not using oven mitts, lapslock, a lot of mentions of falling because we’re clumsy word count: 5.8k

summary: floral fantasy is instagram famous, not only for their delectable desserts and drinks, but also the absurdly good looking staff members who’d make celebrities crumble with a mere flicker of a smile. you can’t help but fall for the one temp worker who’s as clumsy as he is good looking. 

notes: merry belated holidays ellen @joontella​! it’s peppermint, finally delivering your present to you because i am an excellent procrastinator. this was inspired by my friend commenting on how the majority of holiday movie leads seem to be mall elves, so i present to you...a mall elf! in all seriousness, i hope you like it! i also wanted to add your answers to the character (about your favourite and least favourite part of the holidays) so i put those in here. 💕

the moment the clock strikes midnight on december 1st, the mall changes: it shifts from plain decorations and advertisements into a winter wonderland, with fake snow and garlands and tinsel wrapping every square inch of the mall. twinkling snowflakes hang from the ceiling, a cascade of light fragments spinning over the white, mall floor, and the railing are covered in boughs of holly and streams of glitter. it’s absolutely magical. or so every customer thinks. 

in reality, all the mall workers are contractually obligated to work after the mall closing hours, to file in through the glass doors and haul decoration after decoration out of the mall storage room, put in elbow grease to transform the mall into something vaguely resembling the north pole and distinctly looking like a christmas catalogue display, only with more glitter and more snowflakes and too much tinsel. 

you absolutely despise it. 

to be fair, working a graveyard shift to help “build the holiday magic and festive cheer” was written in the job description when you signed on for the job, in fine tiny print you skipped over as you signed your name on the bottom of the paper, forgotten and ignored in the thrill of having a job that pays more than minimum wage. of course there was a catch; there was always a catch. 

you kick a plastic reindeer, watch it clatter on to a pile of fake snow from your annoyance. jungkook, the head mall—santa’s elf, you correct yourself—snaps his head in your direction, before running over and propping up the reindeer. “oh no! are you okay, vixen?” he pats the reindeer gently, brushing off glittery cotton fluff from its body before frowning at you. “please be careful with the props! all of these are essential to the holiday magic we provide to the children and mall patrons! what would they think if they came into the mall and we only had 8 reindeers instead of all 9?” 

you blink twice, trying to bat away the sleep that’s weighing down your eyelashes and mingling with the glitter from all the ornaments. “that we have 8 reindeers.”

there’s another frown on his face, eyebrows pinching together as he opens his mouth when there’s a loud crash on your right. 

there’s a tall, broad man on the floor, tangled in tinsel and lights, next to a ladder, as another tall, broad man and a short, soft looking blonde come rushing out of the floral fantasy cafe doors. the blonde starts cackling immediately—peals of laughter slipping out of his lips as he props himself against the ladder, doubling over at the unfortunate christmas decoration accident—while the tall broad one (the one not tangled up on the floor), sighs and crouches down to try and untangle the other one. 

“i swear, i don’t even know how this happened,” you overhear tinsel boy explaining, “i was up on the ladder trying to unwrap the lights and i guess i pulled too hard? i fell over.” 

blondie cackles even louder as both of the boys give him a look: tinsel boy looks confused, a little apologetic like he’s done this before, while the other tall, broad one sends him an exasperated look. “yoongi, come help me, so we can all leave early.”

ah, to leave early. you’d like that. 

jungkook lets out a tsk and hands you a box of snowflakes to hang from the roof of santa’s workshop, deeming you high risk to the reindeers, and moves on to the next poor, tired santa’s elf who is—heaven forbid—letting the garland hang an extra inch longer than protocol. 

you shift your gaze back to your right and meet eyes with tinsel boy who’s looking right at you. a flicker of heat rushes up to your cheek, as he looks away, back to the tall broad one who’s trying to untangle him. 

“namjoon,” the broad one sighs in relief when his hands finally find the right loop, “maybe you should try the stickers.” 

“absolutely not,” blondie glares, points to the glass window of the cafe, and even from where you are, 2 stores down and 2 across, you can see the abysmal state of the stickers, air bubbles and stuck together where it’s not haphazardly slapped on to glass. “we are two stickers down and tae is going to have my head when he finds out.” his tone softens, eyes as gentle as his smile, when he sees that namjoon has deflated a little, spirit a little squashed like the tinsel around him. “maybe you can decorate the counter namjoon. i think you’d be good at that.”

namjoon brightens up, dimpled smile illuminated by the string lights dancing across his face, and hands yoongi the lights. he gives a mock salute. “yes, sir.”

you bite down your laughter as he skips into the store, nearly tripping over his shoes. at least you’re not alone in your lack of holiday decorating luck, you think as you reach your hand into the box of snowflakes and cough, a storm of dust and glitter puffing up into the air. 

god, you hate your job already. 

in all fairness, after a 5 hour shift and glitter congested lungs, the mall looks lovely, a christmas card come to life with enough lights to rival a hallmark christmas movie or those drive through holiday light tunnels. if you were a customer, you’d stand gaping at the front entrance too, breath caught in your throat at the festivities. but instead, you’re rubbing bleary eyes from the lack of sleep, back at the steps of the mall less than 6 hours after the nightmare of the graveyard shift. lethargy clings to the edges of your thoughts, smudging cohesion into a whirlpool of fatigue, so you collect what little of yourself you can and trudge your way to floral fantasy. 

floral fantasy is instagram famous, not only for their delectable desserts and drinks, but also the absurdly good looking staff members who’d make celebrities crumble with a mere flicker of a smile. there’s a whisper where you live, small talks through the grapevines, about how the requirement to work there is to look like someone who’d make models cry. rumour has it every single worker has been recruited by a talent agency, only to all be turned down for reasons unknown. you believed it when you first stepped foot into the cafe, mouth agape and words lost at the sight of the pretty workers at the register, but the speculations hit you twice as hard right now, when you’re clutching on to the last bit of your sanity. 

tinsel boy is in front of you. you knew he was pretty yesterday, wrapped in twinkle and catching the light, but he’s even prettier up close, skin shimmering in soft pastels, and you wonder for a moment if he’s actually this pretty or if it’s just an optical illusion, a trick of your mind bending the light to create a pretty ringlet around his head. you almost run your mouth, almost let your mouth run without its filter. almost. 

instead, there’s a crash, an angry hiss of steam, and the distinct sound of someone yelping in pain that cuts through the fog of your wonder. blondie rushes out from the back (yoongi, you think his name was), door swinging behind him. “goddamnit namjoon, i leave you alone for thirty seconds! thirty seconds!” 

namjoon shrugs sheepishly. there’s a grimace on his face as he nurses a palm, red and angry. yoongi rushes over with a wet towel and wraps it around namjoon’s palm, another hiss seeping from namjoon’s lips. “i got-fuck-distracted by something,” he looks at you, cheeks tinged pink, and tries to put on a smile, though it resembles more of a grimace. “welcome to floral fantasy.”

yoongi follows his gaze to you too, blinks twice before a smile spreads on his mouth too. “we’re usually a lot more composed than this.”  

“i’ll take your word for it.” you laugh, remembering last night. “the place looks nice. it looks like you’ve done a wonderful job.”

the cafe, normally in theme to its name as an everblooming wonder, is decked with evergreen wreaths and red ribbons, a brilliant fantasy of lights. the wall filled with paper flowers is replaced with white and silver paper snowflakes, just as photo ready as the people inside. 

“thank you,” yoongi smirks, looking over at namjoon before pushing him towards the register. “we tried.”

“i’m sure you must be tired from last night,” you smile at namjoon. 

“you must be too. i know the mall elves had to stay even longer than we did.” he smiles, dimples blooming. “what can i get you?” 

you look at the menu over his head, the words blurring together the longer you look at them, mind too sleep deprived to focus. “i haven’t been here often, so i’m not sure what’s good. what would you recommend?”

he opens his mouth, hesitating for a moment, before letting out a low chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck. your eyes follow the movement. “i’m actually new here. my friends own the cafe and i’m just here to help for the holiday rush.” he side eyes yoongi who’s running the coffee machine with precision and ease, grace in each movement as he fixes namjoon’s mistakes. “i feel like more of a nuisance than of help though.” 

“i understand that feeling,” you motion towards your attire, a bright splash of green, red, and white that’s as cheerful as you are tired. “i most definitely am not as perky as my job requires.” 

he laughs at your statement, a genuine bubbling laughter that tickles one out of you. there’s a sparkle in his eyes—a trick of the light, you tell yourself—as types something on to the screen. “i have just the thing for you.”

you start to fish around your bag, trying to find your card in the mess of old receipts and chewing gum, when he speaks again. “it’s on the house. my treat.” 

you furrow your brows, lips quirked. “are you allowed to do that?”

“i get free coffee everyday,” he shrugs, “and i do enough damage without caffeine in my system. consider it a gift from a fellow new mall worker, a comrades in agony.” 

you can’t help the worry that spreads across your face. “will you be making it as well?”

“god no.” “absolutely not.” namjoon and yoongi speak at once, twin looks of pain on their faces. 

namjoon holds up his palm as the printer makes a whirring noise. “i think it’s safer for all of us that yoongi makes your drink.” 

the coffee is good, coats your tongue in mint and just the right amount of bitterness. the caffeine sinks into your bloodstream, wipes the film of sleep from your eyes, and gets you through seven hours at the mall. by the end of it, your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, voice a little hoarse from the high pitch elf voice, but there’s a warmth from the coffee that lingers, settles into your bones and stays despite the frosty air that blasts a little too hard through the itchy material of your elf dress. 

you find yourself back at the doors of floral fantasy the next day, still in your bell hat and jingling shoes, less tired but sleepy nonetheless. it’s a little before the mall opens, but the doors are unlocked when you push, a little bell chime ringing through the empty store. the smell of baked goods fills the air, a cozy warmth juxtaposing the white winter wonderland theme, and you take in a deep breath, let it fill your lungs. 

“wow.” you whip around to see namjoon holding a tray of scones and muffins. “you look like you fit right into the store.”

you snort as you twirl, the pom poms twirling as your dress swirls with your turn. “i’m a christmas card come to life, the splitting image of cheer and festivities. though i can’t really say i’m quite into the look.”

he opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a ringing that permeates and breaks the moment. “oh shit,” he drops the tray down on the counter, “seokjin told me to watch the macarons. i’ll be right back” he races off, the back door swinging to the tune of his panic. 

you giggle and look at the menu properly this time, at the pretty penmanship curling across the black chalkboards. there’s candy canes and hollies drawn on the borders and tiny wreaths pinned to every corner, ribbon on the bottom, and you try to match the baked goods to the menu names when there’s a muted yelp and crash coming from behind the doors. 

“i swear to god, kim namjoon! the oven mitts are not decoration!” you hear, and you grimace, mind already picturing the damage his clumsiness has caused.  

namjoon and seokjin, you assume, come out of the backroom a few moments later, another wet towel on namjoon, on both hands instead of one this time. 

“oh,” seokjin says. “hello.” 

“hi,” you wave awkwardly. “i’m guessing this is bad timing?”

“no, it’s not,” he pulls out a medical kit and starts applying burn cream on namjoon’s hands, sending daggers every time namjoon inhales sharply in pain. “yoongi should be here in a couple of minutes if you want coffee.”

“did you like the coffee yesterday?” namjoon asks, hope sparkling in his eyes. 

“i did!” you beam back. “it was good, so i came back to see if you had any recs.” you look at the tray behind the two. “and to try a baked goods. a fellow elf told me they’re quite spectacular.”

seokjin brightens at that, perks up and puffs his chest as he finishes the final touches on the bandages on namjoon’s hands. “you heard correctly! just wait a moment!” he rushes off to the back, and it’s just the two of you again.

“you seem to be catching me at my worst, but i swear, i’m more put together than this,” namjoon chuckles, lifting his palms “how was your first shift?” 

you laugh, caressing your elbows to your body. “it was okay. a lot of happy kids, which was nice, but there were also a lot of crying ones. by the end, i was just ready to go home. i did, however, like the coffee from yesterday and figured i would come back to see if you had another recommendation, from a fellow second day-er to another. it was the one thing that got me through the shift.” 

he beams again, and it ignites a warmth in you, much like the coffee from yesterday, that spreads gently across your body, on your cheeks, on your mouth. his smile is pretty, like a warm breeze on a spring day, like cherry blossoms fluttering gently in the wind. the coffee is good, but you think the reason for the lines outside the cafe, the loyal customers, is partly due to the way the smiles here feel like love letters. 

“i have something in mind for you today,” he smiles at you as yoongi walks in, nodding at you in greeting. “just wait a moment.”

you walk out of the cafe, a coffee in one hand, box of baked goods in another, and a heart that feels a little like a snow globe, glitter and snow gently falling down after being shaken by a cute pair of dimples.

it becomes a routine of sorts: almost every shift begins with a visit to floral fantasy, even on the days namjoon isn’t working, and you build up a small friendship with everyone who works there, though it’s mostly seokjin and yoongi and namjoon you see. there always seems to be some mishap with namjoon when you walk into the store—it’s mostly limited to small things like jammed display doors, smooshed pastries as he reaches for another, and misshapen ice cream swirls—although seokjin and yoongi tell you he’s not as clumsy as he presents himself when you’re around.

“he’s actually quite brilliant,” seokjin tells you as he packs in an extra macaron in your gift box, smiling as you light up in glee. you really shouldn’t be spending your paycheck on pastries, but seokjin’s culinary training at le cordon bleu makes them a little too good, a little too addictive, and has you asking for one (or two) on the days when your shifts are a little too long to bear without coffee and sweets. “he’s double majoring in literature and philosophy, minoring in greek and latin to gain deeper understanding of the classical philosophers, and takes french in his free time. he wears himself a little too thin, if you ask me, but he likes what he does. he’s a sweetheart, even when he’s clinging to the last thread of his sanity, muttering on and on about paradoxes and something about beds.” 

“he just needs to get a better understanding of his strength,” yoongi tells you when you come in after your shift one day, over the hiss of the steamer as he makes you a cafe au lait. you don’t have the heart to tell him that you prefer your coffee sweet after remembering how his eyes lit up as he told you about his barista training, raved about coffee done correctly rather than frappes and awful starbucks beans. the resentment on his tongue made you promise yourself to never step foot in a starbucks, lest you find yourself the subject of his bitterness. “sometimes he gets a little too excited and forgets about things, like how fragile objects can be or safety concerns” he and seokjin exchange a knowing glance before he smiles down at the coffee, blank canvas coming to life as he pours in the steamed milk. in the matter of seconds, there’s a cute bear hanging on to the edge of the cup, and you gape in awe at his skills. “he means well though.” 

namjoon presents himself a little differently than his friends do when he catches you on your lunch break, keeping you company as you eat your sandwich in the cafeteria. “i don’t really know how these things keep happening, but they do. i’m a magnet for trouble like bella swan.”

you cackle out loud and, in the process, almost spit out your coffee, courtesy of namjoon. “i’m sure it’s not that bad.” 

“well, i don’t have a creepy, emotionally unhinged vampire that lusts after me, so yes, my situation is a bit better.”

he looks like a kicked puppy, eyes all sad and tugging at heartstrings. you find yourself reaching a hand out, patting his arm. “there, there. i’m sure santa has you on the nice list despite it all. for not interacting with a god-forsaken, toxic vampire.” 

“good. i was awfully worried i was on the naughty list.” he tries to keep a straight face, hold his laughter in, but it seeps and bubbles out and his eyes crinkle into crescents. “do you not like the holidays?” you tilt your head at his question, a silent ask to elaborate. “you seem to not be in the holiday spirit when i ask you about it. unless, i’m reading incorrectly and it’s just your job you despise, which i totally understand. i love kids, but they can be hard to deal with.” 

you chew on your sandwich for a little longer than you have to, feel it go down your esophagus while the sorrow sticks in your throat. “i like christmas. it’s just a bit lonely on my own?” you put your sandwich down gingerly on to your tupperware. “i think the best part of christmas—the holidays in general, really—is spending time with family and loved ones, but i don’t get to see them very often. not since i moved for college and everyone is busy with their own lives. i love christmas dinner and celebrating together, watching the clock strike midnight on new year’s. i still send gifts to them, but it’s not the same as watching them open it, watching eyes light up and twinkle in delight as they see the stockings and rip the wrapping paper.” you stick a grin on your face, as cheerful as the one you put on for your job, but your laughter sounds weak, even to your ears, and you shift your gaze on to the sandwich in your tupperware, trying to hide your tears. there’s a comforting hand on top of yours, gently squeezing like he’s trying to pass his strength on to you. “i mean, it’s fine. post-holiday depression can’t really hit if you don’t feel the holiday cheer to begin with.”

he doesn’t say anything as you blink furiously, trying to clear out the fuzziness in your vision: he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, a gentle reminder that he’s there and listening to what you’ve holed up and deemed too stupid to tell other people. 

“maybe this holiday season will be different,” he offers. 

there’s a flicker of hope that burns in your chest. “yeah, maybe it will be.” 

it’s a couple of days later when you step back into the cafe, having been too tired to come by after your shifts, and you’re nursing the desire to knock down every single reindeer and the stupid gingerbread house just to spite the kids. (and maybe see the look on jeon jungkook’s face, savour it slowly. god, his love for christmas cheer and order drives you mad, though you’re sure you do the same for him, every time you slip out of character when there’s a particularly nasty child in line.) you must look as exhausted as you feel because when namjoon turns around at the sound of the bell twinkling, thirty minutes before the cafe closes, he drops the tray and you watch as the pink coffee cups and pretty plates fall to the floor, shatter into pieces. 

“fuck,” namjoon looks at the floor in dismay, crouching down to collect the pieces. 

“be care-“ you start, but his voice cuts through before you can finish. 

“ow, fuck.” he staring at the rose blooming on his thumb, cut quickly filling with red. 

you grab a napkin from the counter and hand it to him, gently pulling him up and aside, out of harms way. “i don’t know if your hands will be okay by the time your stint here ends.”

he snorts at that, heading behind the counter and reaching for the medical kit again. “i’m quite resilient.”

“is it weird that i believe you and don’t at the same time?” you smile at his pout, wincing when it causes your cheeks to twinge in pain. “are you manning the store alone today?”

“i can be responsible! is that so hard to believe?” he laughs and motions to the store. “this is seokjin and yoongi’s baby. seokjin has always wanted to do something with food and yoongi’s always loved coffee, so this is their brainchild. i’m guessing they trust me enough to not burn the place down, or at least try not to.” 

he fumbles as puts a bandage on the cut and you can’t help but smile as you remember the stickers he tried to put on the cafe door. you take the broom from him when he makes his way over. “here, let me help.” he tries to protest but you move the broom out of his reach. “consider it my way of saying thank you for the great coffee recommendations.”  

namjoon’s dimples are back, shining in full force, and you start sweeping, telling yourself you’re focusing on the pieces of china and not averting the warmth of his smile because it does not feel like a sugar rush, like the warmth of the holidays you haven’t felt in a while. you feel something creep up in your throat—loneliness, sorrow, exhaustion—so you force it down and stare at the tiny pieces on the floor, watch the little fragments twinkle as you push them around with your broom. 

“are you okay?” there’s a hand on your arm and pair of warm brown eyes looking at you, concern brimming in the light. you let yourself get lost in them for a moment, let it wash over you before you respond.

“yeah,” you smile, “just tired.” 

he gently takes the broom and dustpan from your hands, and gives you his hand instead, leading you to the behind the counter and to the backroom. “i have just the thing for you.”

“am i allowed to be back here?” you quirk your head in amusement, letting him lead. “better yet, what are we doing?”

it’s strange—to the say the least—to be in a place you’re so accustomed to but have it looks so different than what you’re used to: steel and silver replacing marble and white, ovens and storage racks in place of glass displays case and chalkboards. but there’s still the same magic: the same kind of warmth and care you’re greeted with at the entrance lives in the backroom, with the ovens and fires, with the stand mixers and ingredients, with namjoon flitting around the stove. there’s a tick-tick-tick as the stove flares to life, a clang as it meets pan. 

“yoongi taught me how to make hot chocolate, back in high school, because he was so fed up with how much i loved it, how much i would ask for it.” you can feel the smile on his face, even as his back is to you as you lean against the counter. “it’s one of the few things i know how to make from scratch, albeit a little labour intensive. once you try it, there’s no going back to instant packets.” 

namjoon motions you over, handing you the whisk, and the two of you settle in to a comfortable silence as he scrapes in vanilla, sifts in some spices, adds in heavy cream and milk. it smells heavenly, lingers on the edges of his white shirt. the two of you are so close, you’re scared he can hear the vivace of your heartbeat over the whisking, so you whisk a little faster, let the cream splash on the edges until he gently takes the whisk from you. “wow, maybe you should work here. we could have you as back up if our stand mixers ever break down.” 

he pours the mixture into two orange mugs, topping it with something white and fluffy before handing one to you. “hot chocolate a la namjoon.” 

you close your eyes and let the mixture settle on your tongue, sweet and warm. it settles in your bones, distilling and coating the exhaustion and loneliness until all that’s left is the warmth of spending the moment with a loved one. the effort and time comes through. “colour me impressed.”

the smile on his face is as warm as the drink in your hands. 

the two of you bask in the silence, in the warmth, in the comfort of each other’s presence, as you sip the rest of your hot chocolates. 

there’s an unspoken rule: the closer it gets to your last day of work, the slower time moves, like it’s waiting to prolong your misery. the kids aren’t awful—they get nicer as it inches closer to christmas, too well aware their gifts depend on their behavior—but no matter how many kids you entertain, how many photos you snap, how many smiles you pinch out, nothing makes your shift go by today. you’re so close to throwing down your elf hat and walking out the door, freedom so close yet so far. 

it’s christmas eve and the mall is busier than usual, packed with folxs trying to get their last minute christmas shopping done. you can’t say the same for the santa’s workshop line: there’s a lull like no other, and while you would be grateful, jeon jungkook has been watching over everyone like a hawk, squawking at every elf to “keep up the magic!” just until 10 minutes ago when he left for lunch. you just want to go back to your apartment and settle under your covers and let yourself enjoy the measly number on your paycheck. 

“you look like you’re having the time of your life.” 

a voice comes up from behind you and you startle, relief only settling in when you see who it is. 

namjoon is holding a tray of cupcakes that looks like christmas trees, dusted in powdered sugar and topped with a fondant star, and you “ooh” over them as he laughs. “seokjin was experimenting with flavours and i figured i would bring some over to the north pole.”

you frown in mock anger as you pluck a cupcake off his tray. “it’s santa’s workshop, not the north pole. i don’t even want to think about how much more fake snow we would have to bring to call this the north pole.” you take a bite into the cupcake, moaning as the sugar hits your tongue. “these are so good.”

namjoon blinks at you, looks down at your lips and laughs with pink tinged cheeks. “you have frosting on your lips.”

“oh,” you lick your lips, “is it gone?”

 he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth, fingertip lingering a second too long as he drags it down. “all better.” 

there’s a long, awkward silence between the two of you, seconds dragging by as you fumble to string a cohesive sentence together. 

“do you-“

“it’s my-“

“you can go first,” namjoon offers. 

“it’s my last shift today, so i won’t be able to visit as often anymore.” you try to keep the tremble out of your voice, try to dampen the disappointment as you kick at the floor. “so i wanted to say thank you. for everything.”

“oh.” he doesn’t say anything else and anxiety pools in between every beat of the song that’s blasting through the mall speakers. you try to find something to fill in the conversation, anything but what you want to ask him, when you hear your coworker’s voice. 

“jeon’s making his way down!” 

“i have to go. thank you for the cupcake!” you wave the treat in your hand and start to get back into position.

“wait! y/n!” 

as soon as you turn around, there’s a giant weight on top of you, and both you and namjoon come tumbling down, back knocking against the floor. namjoon’s foot, caught on the wire, pulls out the string lights from the socket and brings a snowman to the floor. the poor snowman, in turn, knocks over the reindeers one by one, like a set of dominos, each one falling to the floor with a graceful “thump.”

you let out a groan, crushed by namjoon’s large frame. there’s something wet smudged against your cheek, and the tray that once was in his hands is now uncomfortably sandwiched between your stomachs, digging into your ribcage. 

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” namjoon scrambles to get off of you. “this keeps happening around you. are you okay?”

when you prop up your weight on your hands, you see that your elf costume is smeared with dark green frosting, the white trim matted together with pieces of the chocolate cupcake. you can’t help but laugh: it seems awfully fitting that namjoon’s fall, which marked your first shift, would laso be the highlight of your last one. 

“i’m alright. you?”

he nods, motioning towards your elf costume. “i don’t think your costume is though.”

“i kind of like it better this way,” you laugh as you start to pick up the reindeers, “it feels much more festive.” 

“i feel bad.”

he sends you an apologetic look, puppy eyes and pouty lips, and something in you says fuck it. “you were right about the hot chocolate. i tried to drink instant mix and it didn’t taste the same. you could make it up to me with another cup?”

something flashes in his eyes as he smiles. “i’ll do you one better. what are you doing tomorrow?”

you furrow your brows, trying to figure out what he’s asking. “nothing?”

“i’m off too, if you wanted to go on a date? most of the city is going to be closed, so we could watch a movie, have dinner at my place? and i could make you hot chocolate?” he bites his lip at your silence, at the way your eyes go wide. “or not. i’m sorry; i just thou-” 

you press your lips against his and put your hands on his shoulder when he kisses you back. it’s a short kiss, sweet and gentle like he is, and it’s over all too soon (you are in public after all), but it leaves a trail of butterflies in your stomach and a dazed look in his eye. 

“a date sounds good.” you tell him as he stands up, tray in hand. 

“tomorrow then.”

you nod, the smile on your face as sweet as the frosting on your outfit, as he runs back towards floral fantasy. 

“looks like someone has holiday plans after all,” your coworker nudges you.

the smile on your face refuses to dissipate, even as your cheeks feel the tender ache. “i guess so.” 

“you know, the first time i saw you, you were wrapped in tinsel because you fell off the ladder trying to decorate the outside of floral fantasy.” you tell him on his couch, over hot chocolate. 

he chokes and sputters. “i was distracted.”

the statement sounds vaguely familiar, mind hazy from time. “by what?”

he looks at his mug of hot chocolate intently, like the surface is reflecting his answer to him. “You.”

It’s your turn to choke on your drink. “I’m sorry?”

his ears and cheeks are dusted with pink, a sunset on his face. “You were so pretty that i forgot i was on a ladder, and i fell.” 

it takes all of your willpower to iron out the smile that threatens to slip through, but one look at his face--at his pretty, pouting face--and you burst out laughing, laughing even harder when he joins in.

“I’m clumsy when i get nervous,” he continues, when both your laughters simmer into giggles, “and everytime you came into the cafe, i was so nervous that i made silly mistakes like burning my hands and forgetting oven mitts. The one time you came in and i dropped the tray? The light was hitting you at the right angle and—god—it made you look like an angel.” 

you hide your grin behind your mug, take a sip before you let him know. “the coffee was good, but i mostly came in to see you.” 

his eyes light up at that, brighter than the christmas tree haphazardly wrapped behind him, and you kiss him, mouths moulding together. he tastes like goodness and hot chocolate and the warmth of the holiday season, like the thrill of opening a present that’s been under the tree for so long. 

maybe he was right. maybe this holiday season will be different. 

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc #namjoon fic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #bwcssy2 #bts fic #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fluff #namjoon fluff

[joontella]

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s):  Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy​! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley​), Avery (@ksmuttherapy​), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members. 

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵) 

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎 

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100 

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself. 

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack. 

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

 𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏 

 𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 

 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

 𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100 

 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student. 

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.” 

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students. 

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance. 

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant. 

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew. 

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” 

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on… 

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…” 

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances. 

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human. 

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

#bwcssy2

[ntiromantic]

love is nothing stronger

↳ happy holidays @btsmakesmehappy! i’m your secret santa, angel! i hope your 2020 wraps up happily (well, as happy as it can be).

feel free to use as icons!

#bwcssy2 #bangtanarmynet #armysource #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #houseofddaeng #hyunglinenetwork #kpopgfxnetwork #ultkpop #thekpopnetwork #kgfxnet #kafenetwork #namjoon #bts #namjoon moodboard #bts moodboard #icon pack #*mine #*lunamoodboard #*pack

[hobeemin]

Tinsel & Tae

🎁 Genre: Christmas AU, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Non Idol AU

🎁 Pairing: Kim Taehyung x (f) Reader

🎁 Rating: pg

🎁 Warning(s): break ups, fainting, crying, Taehyung being the sweetest big brother, lots of fluffy fluffiness

🎁 Word Count: 2k

🎁 Credits: Beta read by the awesome @nightshadevinter​ 💜 you’re the best!!

Banner resources found here (png & photo stock) and here (psd coloring)

🎁 A/N: @cest-la-tae​ Daija!!! I’m your secret Santa 😀😁 I had so much fun getting to know you dear! I hope you enjoy this little fic

Y/N pressed her ear to the phone receiver, brows furrowed. Maybe she heard it wrong. As soon as the message ended, she pressed the prompt to repeat it.

“YN listen, I…uh…I know this is a crappy way to end things, but it’s not working for me, and I believe we want different things. I hope you find someone worth your time. Love you. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

Nope, that’s what she heard. She stared at her phone in disbelief. Really? A break up on Christmas Eve? Her hands shook as she placed the phone into her locker. She put her head inside and screamed into her coat. Her co-worker and close friend, Jungkook, entered the employee break room whistling, setting his bag down, but paused once he saw her head buried in her locker. He watched her curiously.

“Everything okay, Y/N?”

She sniffed, removing her head from inside, and slumped down onto the bench. She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight the tears. “No. Everything sucks.”

He groaned, joining her on the bench. He didn’t like seeing her in this state. He just opened his arms, allowing her in, and she began to sob, wetting his shirt in the process. It surprised her because he wasn’t super emotional, but he was here for her, which made her feel good to know he was supportive.

“He broke up with me on Christmas Eve,” she mumbled into his chest.

Jungkook frowned, shaking his head. “Seriously? That prick. Who breaks up with someone on Christmas. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N hiccupped and grabbed a tissue off the coffee table, wiping her face with a deep sigh. He patted her back gently as he stood. “You’re going to be okay, right? I can ask the boss if you need a replacement.

She shook her head, blowing her nose. “No. No. I need the distraction, but thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at her, tousling her hair, making her swat his hand with a smile, adjusting her hat. “Alright. Let’s get upstairs before we have a riot.”

She chuckled as she looked herself over in the mirror. Y/N smoothed the wrinkles from the bright green dress with red trimming. The bells attached to her dress and matching hat jingled as she turned around, giving herself one last look over. With a nod, she followed Jungkook back out of the breakroom.

***

“Attention holiday shoppers, the mall will be closing in twenty minutes. Please make all purchases at that time. Last call for Santa photos. Have a very Merry Christmas.”

Y/N wanted to jump for joy. At least that was good news. The day was almost over. She stretched, a smile across her face as the flash from the camera went off. With a giggle, she led the child towards their family with a wave. 

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

She turned, giving Ben, their department store Santa Claus a sigh.

“Is it me, or does the line seem to be getting longer?”

He and Jungkook laughed at her comment. “It’s just you. Relax, we’ve got only twenty minutes left, and then we’ll be free of these–,” he stopped whispering as another family came up for pictures. “HO HO HO! Merry Christmas! Tinsel, bring some candy canes up!”

“Right away, Santa!” Y/N ran over to the basket and handed one to each kid. “Welcome to Santa’s shop! I’m Tinsel, Santa’s elf in charge!”

Soon the kids posed as Jungkook took a few photos, handing the parents the film with a smile. “Take this over to the booth to pay. Merry Christmas!”

Taehyung held his little sister’s hand as they walked to the middle of the mall. “Hurry, TaeTae! I want to see Santa!”

He chuckled, squeezing her hand as she dragged him along. “Be patient, Soyoung. We’ll get there soon enough.”

Soyoung pouted, tugging his hand. “B-But the store is going to close!”

Taehyung sighed, quickening his steps. “Okay. Okay. I’ll walk faster.” He adjusted the bags in his free hand as they walked faster. They reached the line moments later, standing as he glanced down with her. 

“We made it. Happy now?”

Soyoung nodded with a boxy grin. “Yes!” She bounced up and down. “I have a lot to ask him.”

“Now. Now. Santa is a busy man. Don’t overwhelm him, Soyoung.”

“I won’t, TaeTae.”

***

“Is it me, or is the room getting hotter?” Y/N asked, fanning herself. Jungkook looked up from the camera, shaking his head. “I feel fine.” She sighed, checking her water bottle. Empty. The lights around her only made it hotter to stand. Y/N looked over the line. Only a few families left. She could get through it. Hand out a few more candy canes, take some more pictures, then head home to a large glass of red wine.

Taehyung grinned as they reached the front of the line. “Almost our turn Soyoung!”

She jumped with a giggle. “Yay!”

But as Soyoung stared at the bright lights, decorations, and Santa looming in the large throne, her face paled. She whimpered, trying to hide behind Taehyung.

“I-I don’t want to see him.”

Taehyung’s brows knitted, staring at her. “But you were excited a minute ago.”

She tugged on his coat. “I changed my mind. I don’t wanna see him.”

Taehyung sighed, crouching down to her eye level. “Soyoung–”

Her eyes welled with tears as she began to cry. People began to stare, making Taehyung flustered as he tried to calm her down, but she wailed louder.

Jungkook looked up at the noise and waved at Y/N. “Code blue Christmas!” 

Ben groaned, rubbing his forehead. “This is our last customer. Y/N, take care of it.”

She sighed as she walked over them with a smile, grabbing the basket filled with assorted candy canes. She crouched down by the crying girl and held one out for her.

“Hiya! I’m Tinsel. Are those tears I see?”

Taehyung smiled at Y/N and stood up. “Hi Tinsel,” he brought his sister forward. “This is Soyoung. She’s a little scared to see Santa.”

Y/N smiled at her. “Hi, Soyoung. Why are you scared to see Santa?”

 Soyoung sniffled, drying her eyes. She looked at Taehyung as he nodded for her to talk. “He looks scary.”

“Scary?” Y/N gave her another smile. “Santa is the biggest softie. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Trust me, I know. I work for him.”

“You do?”

“Uh, huh. The reindeer would agree too.”

“I-I don’t know–”

“How about I walk up with you, and we’ll talk to him together. What do you say?”

Soyoung clutched Taehyung’s coat staring at Y/N. “Only if he can come too.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course, your dad can come.”

Taehyung’s cheeks became flushed as Soyoung giggled. “Uh, she’s my little sister.”

Y/N covered her mouth as she got flustered. “Oh, goodness! I’m sorry. I thought–”

He smiled with a boxy grin. “No worries. It happens all the time.”

Y/N held her hand out for Soyoung to take. “Well, Miss Soyoung, let’s see Santa with your big brother.”

Soyoung took Y/N’s hand as shyness took over and walked up the trail to see Santa Claus. Y/N gave Jungkook a nod as if to say, ‘everything is fine’ and stopped in front of Ben.

“Tinsel reporting for duty Santa. I have a new friend who is anxious to see you!”

Ben held his stomach and let out a jolly belly laugh. “Well, hello there!”

Soyoung waved, shuffling her feet. “Hi, Santa.”

“Why don’t you come on up and we can chat?”

The shyness dissipated as she walked closer and stood next to Santa Claus. They chatted animatedly. The smile on her face grew more and more as she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Taehyung exhaled as he turned to look at Y/N with a smile. “Thank you.”

“It was no trouble,” she answered. “I was happy to help.”

Taehyung stared at her for a moment, blushing. He couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in the elf costume. He wasn’t one to be awkward; in fact, he was pretty confident in most situations, but being in front of her made him a little infatuated.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N was about to speak up just when a wave of dizziness hit her. Everything went black as she fell backward into the side of the North Pole sign.

“Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. As everything began to focus, she could see Ben, Jungkook, Soyoung’s brother and Soyoung standing near her. Y/N tried to stand as Taehyung held his hand up to stop her. “Don’t move; you might have hit your head during your fall.”

“I’m fine,” she said as her cheeks warmed. She hated having them fuss over her. Besides the slight bump she could feel forming, Y/N felt fine. Jungkook glanced at Ben nervously. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Guys, I’m fine. Seriously. I think I’m just dehydrated,” she rambled.

Taehyung shook his head. “We need to be sure.”

Jungkook went off to grab his phone and make the call. Y/N sighed as she still laid on the ground. Taehyung noticed how uncomfortable she looked and helped her up to lean against the stairs. “Santa, can we get her some water?”

Ben nodded as he walked away. Soyoung sat next to them, the worry crossing her face. “Is Tinsel going to be okay?”

“Of course, I am Soyoung. Just felt a little dizzy. Even elves get hurt sometimes,” she reassured the little girl. Soyoung seemed alright with the explanation and sat there in silence. 

Soon enough, Jungkook came back with two EMTs in tow, and Taehyung pulled Soyoung back to give them room. They checked her vitals, stating she was a little overheated and dehydrated. They gave her a sports drink to replenish her electrolytes and told her to take it easy.

Taehyung watched from afar with Soyoung, still concerned. Soyoung glanced from her brother to the elf and pulled on his coat sleeve. “TaeTae?”

“Yes, Soyoung?”

“Do you want to know what I asked Santa for?”

Taehyung peered down at her curiously. “What?”

“I asked for you to meet someone pretty and nice,” she whispered.

Taehyung felt his heartache. “Soyoung–”

“I-I know you get lonely sometimes. I just didn’t want to see you sad anymore.”

Taehyung wrapped his sister in a hug. “You’re the sweetest little sister.” He grabbed her hand and walked over to Y/N. He stopped a few steps away and turned to Soyoung. “Wait here for a moment, okay?”

Soyoung bobbed her head up and down as Taehyung stepped forward.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N sat up from the stretcher as her eyes rounded. He was still here. She wrapped her hair around her ear, having removed the elf hat, and smiled. “Uh, hi there. You can just call me Y/N. Tinsel retired for the night.”

They shared a laugh for a moment. “Well then, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taehyung.” He returned the smile, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Some way to end a shift.”

Y/N nodded in agreement. “I’ll say. My life’s filled with never-ending incidents.”

Visibly nervous, Taehyung scratched his nose. “I don’t usually do this, but...uh, you’re probably the cutest elf I’ve ever met. Um…would you like to go out sometime?”

Y/N, taken aback, stared for a moment. She recovered, feeling a bit bashful. Though the pain of her recent breakup still lingered, she gave him a genuine smile. 

“As much as I’d love to, I just got out of a breakup...more like today, but I wouldn’t say no to getting drinks, maybe coffee?”

Taehyung grinned. It wasn’t a complete rejection, but something. “Of course.” He pulled out his phone as Y/N typed her number into the contacts. He smiled, placing it back into his pocket. “Until then, I wish you a merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Taehyung.”

#bwcssy2 #bangtanhq #bangtanstation #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #95line.net #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts #bangtan #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #taehyung christmas au #taehyung fluff #taehyung romance #taehyung sol #taehyung non idol au #bts christmas au #bts fluff #bts romance #bts sol #bts non idol au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction

[wynniewright]

Secret Santa (Drabble)

→  This piece is a part of the Secret Santa event hosted by @bwcsecretsanta and was created for @n8dlesoupguk

→ Rating: PG-13

→ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

→ WC: 2.4k

→ Genre: secret santa au

→ Summary: When you pick Yoongi’s name for the dreaded secret santa event at work, things didn’t go exactly as you expected them to.

→ Warnings: much fluff, some mild vulgar language (I tried very hard not to use the f word)

AN: Okay, it’s 4am and I don’t have the mental capacity to do tags and the proper set-up into the story so I did the absolute bare minimum until I’m awake and actually able to process what the hell is going on. AS MENTIONED ABOVE, it’s a secret santa piece for my dear @n8dlesoupguk. I’m sorry this piece took so long to get out but I hope you enjoy it, even if it is a little on the drabble side. Thank you for letting me be your secret santa and I hope you had a wonderful holiday season.~ <3 

PS: Sorry I forced you to wait until the last possible moment and thank you for your patience love!

It’s official. You were officially the worst secret santa in the history of secret santas and honestly, even that was giving yourself too much credit. You could barely call yourself a secret santa. The qualifications were somewhat loose, being that all you had to do was fill in a gift card for your own secret santa to receive while you received one from a co-worker. 

If you were honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have even signed up if you didn’t think your manager, Seokjin, wasn’t looking over your shoulder. Sure, he said it was optional, but you were looking forward to a promotion to serving role so that you didn’t have to bus tables anymore. If getting on Jin’s good side meant you had to participate in some cheesy holiday event for work then that’s exactly what you were going to do.

You couldn’t even blame your poor time management skills on your strict manager, since he specifically told every staff member the rules:

Gifts cannot go oer the $30 budget

Gifts must be ready for the exchange on the morning of the 24th

That was easy enough, right? Whoever’s name you pulled, you could’ve gotten away with buying them a candle or maybe some fuzzy socks and a sheet mask. It was supposed to be easy. But instead of ease, panic set in the moment you opened your locker and realized whose secret santa you were.

Min Yoongi.

Out of the twenty-something other employees at the restaurant, you managed to pick THE Min Yoongi. How? You wished you knew. 

Pulling his name from the hat wasn’t horrible because it was him, in fact, if you actually cared about the work festivities, you would’ve jumped for joy and screeched into your pillow the moment you got home. But you didn’t care about the exchange and had no plans to put any thought into a personalized gift for the recipient. Hell, by the time you actually bothered to take a peek at the name was nearly 72 hours before the exchange. That’s exactly why you were at the mall before your shift, less than 24 hours until the gift exchange in front of the other staff, in search for a suitable gift for the cute boy.

No pressure, right?

You tossed out your idea of fuzzy socks and body care products and immediately headed to the mom-and-pop candle store in search of fall-scented candles. There should’ve been more space for additional details because, c’mon, how many fall candles existed? Since it was the day before Christmas Eve, you expected to have plenty of options with fall scents - but not as many as there were.

It was understatement to say that there were plenty of options when the entire store was just one massive cloud of the perfect holiday fragrances, cinnamon and apple wafting right out the doors and flooding your nostrils before you even stepped into the place.

It took a whole hour for you to test all of the scents, a bulk of the time wasted on debating whether or not Yoongi was the Christmas cookie type, or if he’d like Apple Pumpkin or even Holiday Hearth, whatever that was. After the first 10 minutes of sniffing, all the candles started to blend together and smell the same as the one before it, leaving you defeated.

Shortly after leaving, there was a brief moment where you thought about checking out another store for some candles, but considering your nose was fried with all those powerful scents, you didn’t think you could sniff another freaking candle without losing your sense of smell. Perhaps the beanie on his list would’ve been an easier find.

Boy, were you wrong.

After shopping at three different department stores, you came to the conclusion that trying to find a beanie during the peak of the winter season was an even worse idea than the candles. You knew better than to waste time looking for one of the most popular items for the season so you weren’t sure why it was a shock to you when you couldn’t get your hands on one. The last item on his wishlist was sour watermelon gummies and although those sounded like a decent idea for a multi-item gift, there was no way you would give him a $30 bag of candy. 

With slumped shoulders and a pout, you decided to head into Guitar Center with less than a half an hour until the start of your shift. You didn’t know what to look for, only that you needed to find something budget-friendly that Yoongi would definitely take a liking to. The only possible solution was to give him a sad $30 gift card and call it a day, huffing your way across the mall to where the restaurant was located on the other side.

Technically, a gift card to Guitar Center was the perfect gift for Yoongi. There was a level of passion in which Yoongi spoke about his instruments, talking about music as if it were alive. That’s exactly why you couldn’t screw up the gift by getting him a gift card, right? Even if it was $30, that money could’ve gone towards something he wanted to buy in the future and even if it wasn’t much, you were sure he would still love it.

With a little newfound confidence, you strode through the open doorway and greeted your longtime friend, Jeongguk who stood behind the host desk, scribbling onto something you couldn’t see. 

“Hey, Gukie,” you offered a friendly wave, catching his friendly grin and returning it with one of your own.

“Y/N! I can’t believe you came in today,” he said, maneuvering his way around the desk to wrap his arms tightly around your shoulders. “Did you manage to find something good?” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help the sigh that pressed through your lips. 

You grumbled, “I got him a gift card?” 

His almond eyes rounded out, widening as if you had another head sprouting from your shoulder. “You totally forgot rule three.”

“Rule three?”

You thought back to Jin giving everyone a mini lecture on what was allowed to be given as a gift, running through rules one and two but ultimately coming to a blank.

Jeongguk brushed his lean fingers through his perfectly styled hair, causing some strands to fall in his face before he ruffled the locks in the back. “Rule number three, no gift cards or restaurant merch.” He deadpanned.

The moment those words left his lips, your mind flashed back to your manager saying those exact words and nearly lost your shit right as Yoongi and one of his best pals, Hoseok, strolled on in. 

“Are you fu-”

“-oh, hey, Y/N.” Yoongi flashed his signature gummy smile, reserved but enough to break some hearts as they stopped right by the two of you.

Your heart sank with the realization that you somehow managed to become an even worse secret santa than you managed before, which honestly would be an achievement for you if it wasn’t for the fact that Min-freaking-Yoongi was going to the one disappointed in you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you gave a half-hearted wave, trying your best to put on a smile while knowing full-well that it was flat and obviously painful. He passed by after a quick “it’s nice to see you again” and headed to the lockers in the back. 

Jeongguk watched the interaction and kept looking between the two of you as Yoongi walked further away, letting out a short whistle with a shake of his head. 

“You, my friend, are absolutely screwed.”

-----

You didn’t know exactly what you were thinking. A gift card? A freaking gift card? Seriously, how lame is that? People probably wrote poems about their recipient, shopped tirelessly for their favorite things until they were sure they were going to give the best gift a secret santa could give and there you were with a tiny, half-assed gift card that didn’t amount to anything nearly important enough and hoping that would suffice. 

You were disappointed in yourself. Sure, maybe time slipped by a bit too fast and left you with the last possible moment. Perhaps you could have blamed the sudden incline in hours after an excellent food critique brought an even larger crowd, telling him that’s why you didn’t have time to get something - anything - better. But that was just it. You couldn’t tell Yoongi that you didn’t care enough to buy a gift for anyone until you realized it was him. No way.

Feeling badly about the decision to get him a gift card, you managed to find a pair of fuzzy black socks - even though the color he put for his favorite was green but you knew that a majority of his closet was black - and a small, autumn-scented candle that anyone would enjoy with it’s subtle flair. You stuck those in the bag with the gift card, ultimately choosing to give both gifts despite them collectively doubling the budget. 

To say that nerves were getting to you wasn’t even the half of it. Your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as each person around the circle was called to stand up and find the receiver of their gifts to hand them their early Christmas presents. The closer it got to you, the worse the bounding became, practically jumping up and down with every pull of your leg until you smacked it against your neighbor when they returned to their seat after their exchange.

“Alright, next is Y/N,” Seokjin clapped happily. You wished his positivity would’ve rubbed off on you and given you the strength to look Yoongi in the eye and hand him the monstrosity of a gift that you gave him. 

You pushed yourself up from the chair and and walked over to the other side, knees wobbling and hands growing slick as you neared Yoongi’s seat. With a deep breath, you extended the small bag his way and immediately ducked your head down when he took it, flying back to your seat on the opposite side and avoiding his gaze. 

It felt like hours going through everyone’s secret santa gift and you were too happy when Seokjin didn’t require us to open our presents in front of everyone. Presents were personal, right? Nobody wants to be exposed like that. 

You would’ve dipped on out of there as soon as the gift exchange ended but the nagging guilt forced you to make your way over to where Yoongi and Jeongguk were casually chatting. When you reached them, they both looked up at you with each of their own expressions: Yoongi’s eyes were dark yet curious as to what you wanted whereas Jeongguk knew exactly what was about to go down. 

“I’m actually going to catch Syd before she leaves. I’ll be right back,” he excused himself and made his exit, turning around the moment he was behind Yoongi to give you a supportive thumbs up. 

“Ah, right. I wanted to thank you for your gift, by the way. I really like the candle and I’m kinda digging the fuzzy socks so thanks.” Yoongi flicked his head to the side, pushing his dark hair out of his face as he smiled that heart-melting smile. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” You nibbled on your lip.

How were you supposed to go about this? Was it something you had to sort of dance around and hope he’d understand or something you have to tell straight up? While neither answer seemed desirable, there was nothing more terrifying than the thought of having to say, “I bought you what I was going to buy for anyone else that was my secret santa”. 

“The gifts?” Yoongi raised a brow, no doubt confused with the way you were taking things.

“Yeah,” you puffed out. “Is there any way I could give you something else? I was the worst and I waited to go shopping and the things on your list weren’t available no matter where I looked. I would say I tried but I don’t even feel like I did… I’m so sorry for being so stupid, I can’t believe I actually got you th-”. 

“-I don’t want anything else, though. I already have more than enough.” He stuck his lip out, his cheeks puffing out as if he were a child being rejected for some sweets. 

“I don’t think you understand. I really messed this up and I’m so embarrassed,” you pushed further, lowering your head into your hands with a groan. 

Yoongi was silent, thoughtfully watching you have a meltdown in your seat as he contemplated his next response. “And if I said there was something?” He asked.

“It’s yours.”

In a blink of an eye, Yoongi closed the space between the two of you, lips crashing into yours in a gentle yet exploratory kiss. Fireworks shot off somewhere in the back of your mind as you shut your eyes and grazed his cheek with your thumb. The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to, but it took your breath away regardless. The last of him still lingered on your lips as you opened your eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes wide as you took in the situation.

Min Yoongi just kissed you.

THE Min Yoongi just kissed YOU.

“What was that for?” you murmured under your breath, almost as if you wanted an answer but didn’t even want him to hear the question. 

He hummed, a playful glint in his eye as he gave a shrug. “You said I could have something I wanted in return. That’s what I wanted.”

His words warmed your heart and turned you into a giggling mess, leaving you hiding behind your purse with nothing but your eyes peeking over the top. 

“You’re serious? You’re not serious, no way.” You spoke half to yourself and half to him, still processing the feeling of his soft lips against yours. 

“I’m serious. In fact, if you want to go even further to make it up to me, let me take you to dinner next Friday.” He stuck out a hand between your two bodies, the offer laying right there in front of you while you still couldn’t believe what was happening.

You gripped his hand as quickly as possible and bounced in your seat, beaming with excitement as he matched your enthusiasm. “Yes! I mean,” you coughed. “Absolutely, yes. I’d love to.” You grinned.

Little did you know that being the worst secret santa in history would lead you to give Min Yoongi exactly what he wished for: you.

#bwcssy2 #@btsbookclub #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bangtanuniversity #bts drabble #fluff #yoongi fluff #secret santa au

[therealmintedmango]

Go Figure! l Chapter One

Genre: Fluff; Competitive Figure Skating AU; Angst; Eventual Romance; (Maybe classified as hurt/ comfort down the road?) ((Also maybe smut too? I’m not sure!))

Pairings: Female Reader x Min Yoongi; Female Reader x Park Jimin; Female Reader x Jung Hoseok; Female Reader x Kim Seokjin ⇥ past relationship 

Words: 9,123

Warnings: Profanity, Mentions of ankle injury/ falling on the ice, angst of heartbreak and a “dead” career on the ice. Mentions of flying on an airplane and being scared. I think that’s all for now! 

Author’s Note: This was created for a Secret Santa, I am apart of! I am gifting it to @xotoosweet! Hi, I’m your Twinkle! ✨ It’s so nice to meet you officially! Thank you for answering all my questions and for being so lovely to me!! Sorry, I only had time to work on this chapter and the moodboards! More will come out soon- I promise! 

((ALSO ALSO!!!!: I’ve never figure skated in my life so a lot of this information is probably wrong or not accurate. I apologize if any information is wrong! I tried to research but I still don’t know a lot about it!))

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE MOODBOARDS FOR THE PERFORMANCES! 

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

-Four Years Ago-

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves as Coach Lee practically pushes me out onto the ice. 

“Now here is last year’s women’s Olympic gold medal champion! Y/N Y/L/N taking center ice! She’s not only a fan favorite for her graceful and elegant moves but for the power she glides with her blade on the ice.” Says a former Olympic female athlete. 

I look up as I catch his eye across the ice, shimmering, glimmering at me...

“For her long program she is skating to Lay Your Love On Me by ABBA which is sure to engage the audience!” Says another medaled athlete who competed in these games a few seasons ago. 

Oh no…

“She has a very unique step sequence and she also has a quad axel and quad toe loop in her routine as well!” The lady says with a smile in her voice. 

He smiles that hungry, wolfish grin and I feel like I am about to break into a million pieces, fragile breaths leave my lips as I dare to rip my pupils away from him.

“Y/N is always coming up with the freshest, most interesting choreography to beat. Every time I see her skate, it reminds me why I chose the sport in the first place.” The male gushes. “She is the epitome of passion and fire that you feel exuding from the ice.”

I catch his eyes once more and it’s written all over his beautiful, perfect face. My rival comes to stand next to him, clinging to his arm. He doesn’t fling her off of him. No… He stands there, beautiful and righteous and watches my face twist in displeasure. My eyes flick to her and my stomach drops further into the ground. 

She smirks at me.

...Oh my god...

“Let’s watch as she takes our breath away!” 

And take away their breath I did. This was the day the world watched as I crumpled before it… The pressure weighing down on me like a block of unmoving ice...

-Four Years Later-

“Park!” You call from the side of the ice, watching him intently. “Stop thinking about the jump so much and just let it flow!” 

“It’s harder than it looks!” He pouts back to you, his melliferous voice echoing in the enclosed ice rink, over the little girls learning on the other side of the arena. His smokey, silver hair is sticking to his forehead, shoulders moving up and down dramatically, his body dripping head-to-toe in sweat. 

You sigh. “I know it’s hard!” You call, eyebrow twitching in frustration at the youngest boy you coach. 

I know it’s hard, Jimin, you think, watching him set up for a loop jump. You’ve been to the Olympics twice. You of all people understand just how hard and long you have to work at something to make it to the top of the world, to represent your country. It’s hard but I know you can do it, Jimin. 

His rich eyes find yours across the ice and you know he is nervous for some reason. Getting Jimin to be serious about his emotions was something you’ve struggled with as a coach from the moment you met him. More like he begged you to take him on or he’d die or something equally dramatic but that was Park Jimin for you. 

The youngest skater you are training has been with you from the very beginning of your “retirement”. Retirement. That’s a funny thought. It’s been anything but that, you think as you watch Jimin float this way and that on the ice. The kid has won almost every competition, crowned every title and yet, he has a hunger that requires him to continue to strive for more. The kid was calling you and begging you every hour to take him on, teach him how to win a medal. Jimin was convinced for some reason that you were going to be his ticket to winning the world - the Olympics.

And you wish you could give it to him because he deserves it and more at this point. 

It’s been five hours since Jimin has stepped onto the ice and he needs one more until you are satisfied. He has the start of the Grand Prix in a week. All of your students qualified this year, which you are ecstatic about. But that means they are competing within the dynasty of your coaching name, which means more pressure for you to not favor one more than the other. Which was already insanely hard to do.

All three of them were wonderful skaters and interesting men in their own rights. 

But right now, you had to coach the fussiest one on the ice. 

“Come on, Park.” You say with a sigh as he rotates toward you backward, blade gliding through the hard expanse of ice. “Don’t you want to do well in the USA? In front of all your adoring fans?” 

All you can see is the back of his head as he comes slowly up to where you are standing. He nods, considering your words as one of the little girls starts to cry. “Can’t I practice my step sequence though?” He turns to face you as he reaches the barrier separating you both, skating up to you sluggishly, a pout present on his lush lips. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you adore, but you can’t say anything about. You have to maintain a strictly professional relationship while coaching these attractive men. 

“No!” You point over the barrier of the ice at your student, looking at your watch on your wrist, breaking the eye contact with Jimin. “It’s almost time for Min to be done with warm-ups, so you better finish your short program strong.” 

Jimin lifts a perfect eyebrow, looking down at you from his tall skates. “Min? He’s still training today?” He asks as you point in the direction of your section of the ice with a seriously stern expression again. He shakes his head as he meanders toward the side of the ice you rent for the day, twirling on the edge of his blade, showing off to only you for the little girls weren’t interested in his fancy moves or spins. 

Coach Isabelle - the little girl's teacher - waves to you, signaling you run his whole program as she ushers the hoard of little ones off the ice with her daughter, Frida. Frida would have been a wonderful skater, you both competed at Worlds for your country your first year, but she cracked under the pressure. The weight was too mentally exhausting for her to bear and you don’t blame her. The world watching you, sizing you up, figuring you out, seeing if you are as good as your record states, analyzing every placement of your body - it’s not for the weak of heart, that’s for sure. She was frozen on the expanse of the ice, not starting when she should have, letting the music play as she had a silent panic attack in the middle of the ice, her coach - her mother - rushing to protect her from the flashing lights of the cameras. But every time you see her now, she seems so happy to be coaching little girls and boys in the sport, happily wed to a hockey player from the country. 

You just pray that the pressure would never get to your boys like it did to her… Especially to Yoongi...

“Yes, Park.” You sigh, slight grit to your teeth, remembering Jimin spoke to you. “We’ve been over this.” He knows the schedule doesn’t he? He has to by now. He’s just procrastinating his jumps. “Now, set up for the start of your short routine! We’ll run it until Min is done warming up.” You repeat, tone pointed. 

“Fine. Fine…” Jimin sighs as he begins to get himself in the zone. You stand up straighter as you watch his eyes flash with a certain hunger bursting from his orbs.

You click the music on through the loud speaker the arena you rent the ice from has graciously let you pair with your smart watch as Jimin takes his starting position in center ice.

Out of your three students, Park Jimin was the most dynamic and breathtaking - when he took the sport seriously, of course. Even now in practice when he runs through his short routine you made in conjunction with him, Jimin makes you gasp watching his graceful body control the ice like a mystic being or something. His movements were fluid like water, his leaps like a ballet dancer, his body a sculpture of pure athletic talent. Jimin was beautiful. There is no other way to describe your student, you think as you watch him land a double lutz and double loop with ease, turning and twisting so fast like he was a top, controlled only by loose invisible strings of an ice skating god. Maybe it was because he studied ballet and dance in conjunction with figure skating? 

Park Jimin is epitome of what you think an ice royalty should look like. 

Strong thighs, sculpted upper body, toned biceps, pretty face, soft voice...

Well, you think as he lands out of his triple loop, his fans don’t call him The Prince for nothing. He commands you to look at him, and you can't help but watch, for if you don’t, you’d surely miss the way he glides through the ice and air like they are butter. And that in itself is a punishment. 

“Yo,” a deep rasp echoes from behind you, cutting through the intense music of the Swan Lake Suite Jimin chose as his short program song, “good afternoon coach.” Yoongi steps up next to you next to the ice, watching Jimin intently. 

You try and have the boys not see so much of each other’s performances. You didn’t want it to be in their heads that they were not good enough or you paid attention to one more than the other. None of that was true - you knew that of course. They had to remain level headed and natural in their element and there was only one of you. There was only you, yourself, and I to coach them, take care of paperwork, choreograph, take care of flights and schedules, and everything in between. And since they all qualified this year, you had to remain unbiased and professional yourself. 

Which is why you try the tactic your old coach - Lee Taemin - did by calling you by your last names rather than first. Thank god they all had different last names. 

“Hello, Min.” You smile as Yoongi, with a fresh coat of sweat glossing his pretty pale body from warm-ups gives you a small smirk as you meet his gaze. “How was your morning?” 

He shrugs, setting his bag down as he sits on the bleachers next to you. “It was fine, I guess.” You study the top of his white hair, watching him lace up his skates as Jimin’s song ends. 

“Park,” you shout as you clap with a smile, turning to him gliding on the ice. He was having a “routine-high” as you call it, having an almost perfect run through with his short program. You can see it written all over his smug face. “Great job! Just cool down before you come off and stretch!” 

“Rodger!” His voice echoes as he sees Yoongi glaring at him over the edge of the boards. 

Yoongi snorts as he resumes pulling up his black skates over his large feet. That and his hands were the only outwardly big thing about Min Yoongi. 

Out of the three boys you have, Yoongi has the most petite body type, making him appear more feminine than even Jimin who is shorter than Yoongi. But that’s what some of the judges look for in a male skater. Pretty, fluid, dare you say it: female-like in the way they come off on the ice. You know Yoongi hates that, picking unconventional songs and moves to break the mold of the sport. He wanted to burst through the barriers set in place a long time ago by skaters of old and you - within reason - wanted him to. 

Yoongi wasn’t as flashy and raw as Hoseok or oozing sex appeal like Jimin, but he was so fast and talented, hitting his mark every time with dangerous ease. His spins were by far the best in the country and you were happy to have him under the name of your dynasty. He almost taunts his fellow skaters on the ice, beckoning them with a silent challenge in his hungry orbs, throwing in a move that the judges would never expect, making their jaws drop and their pens scurry across their notepads. Yoongi was the whole package. They all were but there was something oddly endearing about Yoongi and the way he frees his soul on the ice. 

You actually competed against him in the team skate for your separate countries at the Olympics, so it baffled you when he wanted you to coach him after he heard about your retirement in competitive skating. You never pressed him about why he wanted to be coached by yourself, but you figured if you did, he wouldn't open up anyway. Yoongi was more closed off, standoffish than Hoseok and Jimin, expressing his emotions purely through his body on the ice with blades on his feet. Which you had to admit, mystifies you each time he takes center ice, never wanting him to stop his onslaught of unbridled feelings with his whole being. 

With a purse on your lips, you bend down, helping him make sure his laces on his black skates were just right. “You weren’t rewatching Kim Seokjin Worlds skate from last year over and over, were you?” 

He stiffens as he lets you tug on his sharp shoe, blade guard still on, resting against your thigh. Caught you red handed, Min Yoongi, you think in your head with a chuckle. Sometimes he’s easy to read… most of the time he’s not though. 

Kim Seokjin, under the Kim dynasty of Kim Namjoon, is the current reigning champion from South Korea. He won the Grand Prix and Worlds without batting a pretty eye it seems. He was defying skaters all over the world, not retiring just yet even though he was considered to be past his “prime” or the ideal age of a skater in the senior competition - much like Yoongi himself. Kim Seokjin was sturdy, confident, reliable, and a total powerhouse. He was the top male skater to beat this year. And your boys have been obsessively watching videos of him to see what makes him so special much to your dismay. 

“I told you to focus on yourself, Min.” You say as you finish tightening his skates up. “You can’t water your own grass if you are constantly looking at someone else’s.” You stand with a smile, holding out a water bottle with your dominant hand. 

Yoongi pauses as Jimin, laced with the scent of sweat and determination, comes off the ice, taking his pink water bottle you were holding up for him delicately from your paws. “I just want to get a medal this year, coach.” Yoongi’s honesty makes your heart flutter. 

“Then let’s practice extra hard today, Min!” You beam down at him as he removes his skate guards, opening the tiny door leading onto the ice. “Skate some laps as I cool Park down.”

Yoongi nods as some pump up songs play through the speakers of the ice arena. 

“You say it like it's an easy thing to do!” Jimin growls, popping off his water bottle as you chuckle. 

“Those who do not work hard, do not get rewarded!” You tsk as you slide his pink skate guards on the youngest boy. 

There’s a brief pause and you hear Yoongi land a jump easily on the ice behind you. 

“Do you really think winning a medal is easy?” Jimin asks you as you unlace his skates all the way, peeling off his sweaty socks for any signs of injury or strain on his feet. Nope. They look good. Still I’ll have Hoshi look at them before we leave for the USA on Friday. 

It’s your turn to snort. “No, Jimin. Winning a medal is not easy.” You shake your head, tucking a few rogue hair behind your ears. “I never said it was.” 

“Well, you made it look easy.” 

You look up to him as he simpers down to you, eyes sparkling, his demeanor confident and his aura is that of a predator. You gulp, feeling the weight of his stare resting upon your face. He is gorgeous, the youngest boy you coach. You suppose you should stop calling him a boy. He is a man and he’s not much younger than you at that. 

“Y-You need to land your axels cleaner tomorrow.” You state as you stand to your feet. “Don’t forget to drink water and stretch in the workout room.” 

“Fine. Fine. Coach.” Jimin stops and turns around as he looks at you over his shoulder, cocky smirk on his pretty lips. “This year it’ll be me on the podium.” 

You nod. You have to force yourself to bite back the bile that rises to the top of your stomach at the remembrance of your time on top of the podium as you watch him leave. 

Retirement came after your second Olympics two years ago. A nasty fall out of a quad flip not only took out your left ankle but wounded your pride as well. You had taken the gold medal for your country four years before, won Worlds, and have two Grand Prix wins under your belt. But all people seem to remember is the scream that left your lips, the noise of your bones cracking in the arena over the music, the thud of your body landing so terribly on the ice. A “one medal wonder” is what they call you...

Hopefully at least one of the men you coach will snatch a medal, putting a good taste in everyone’s mouth with your name - your dynasty - on their lips. 

-

“Coach!” A loud scream echoes in the area, bright and early on this Tuesday. Your eyebrow twitches in irritation. A day without Hoseok around and you’ve already forgotten just how loud he is it seems as you nearly spill your coffee. “Coach! Coach! Good morning!”

A sigh that turns into a yawn leaves your lips as you wave to the redhead you see barreling toward you. Your free arm raises for a wave and Hoseok high fives you, a giant grin on his face. 

“Coach. Good morning.” Hoseok repeats again and you give him a tired grin. 

You always forget that Jung Hoseok is the middle child of the three boys you coach, but he is taller than them and has the stamina to last through the apocalypse. He acts younger than Jimin but is closer to Yoongi in age. You hope he never lets anyone dull his sunshine demeanor. They don’t call him the firecracker just because of his bright, cherry red hair he has now. 

He was mostly self taught, his family never having enough money for an actual coach. Even so, Hoseok’s trained and learned all the basics all by himself, being extraordinary at explosive jumps. Hoseok is pure, raw talent with clear determination to be the best. He’s won several titles himself and is regarded as one of the new “rookie” best jumpers. It surprised you when he placed well in the Grand Prix that followed your first Olympic season, being mostly unknown and coach-less. As soon as he got wind that you were coaching, he devoted his time, his lithe body, and what little money he had to you. 

Jung Hoseok is the amazing underdog with a brilliant attitude that you could not refuse. 

“Good morning, Jung.” You study him up and down. He is already glowing with a fresh coat of sweat decorating his tall body. He was always good about doing morning warm-ups by himself, never needing to prompt him to run a mile or five at four in the morning. “You are awfully chipper this morning.” 

Hoseok throws his bag down as he sits on the bleacher, eager to lace his skates on, tongue sticking out in concentration. “Yes! There is a new move I want to try out, coach!”

You raise a brow. This guy can land a triple salchow, triple loop no problem… not to mention his axels are beautiful… what more can he- A thought hits you as you see the embers of desire bloom in his orbs. 

“You are not doing a quad axel, Jung Hoseok.” 

He looks up to you with a sheepish grin. “I want to try it and add it into my long program!” 

“Hoseok.” You lean down as you make sure his laces are snug. “You have the most impressive jump combination of all your competitors.” You squeeze his calf, demanding him to look at you. “As your coach, I am forbidding you to practice that jump right before the Grand Prix.” 

“But-!”

“No buts!” Your eyebrows are knit together as you look away, silence falling between the both of you. “You need to do well on the things that you are comfortable with for your programs!” Tears threaten the corners of your eyes for some reason. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did…” You whisper, but you know he can hear you.

After another moment of tense silence falling in the arena, Hoseok leans down and clasps your hands in his as he smiles softly. “Okay, coach.” His voice is delicate and tender, you feel a blush working its way to your cheeks as he smiles down at you. “I promise not to practice that move.” 

You nod as he helps you up while he remains seated. “Good.” You beam, pointing to the ice. “Go skate some laps before you lose your fire.”

“Woo!” He shouts as you open the little door leading to the ice. A yawn leaves your lips as you watch Hoseok glide from side to side of the ice with ease. 

It’s going to be another long morning. 

-

It’s Friday. 

Finally.

The day that Hoshi, your friend who’s agreed to be your on-call athletic trainer when you need him, arrives at the ice rink. It’s also the day before you all leave bright and early, boarding the plane to America, then Canada, then to Russia, to Japan, back to America, then landing in Amsterdam for the final. 

Traveling was the most exhausting part of your job, you think as you chug your second coffee for the day and it was only just eleven o’clock. 

The Grand Prix part of the season - if you qualify - is just as (if not more) grueling than the Olympic season. The traveling, the interviews, the pressure, fellow competitors, the bright lights, the roaring, thunderous noise of the crowd, and of course, the routines that you have to flawlessly execute. 

Today all your students have off-ice training with you and Hoshi, but right now he was doing physicals to see what condition their bodies were in. You were able to do it, trained and certified, but you think it was better to have someone who wasn’t their female coach pinching, pulling and measuring every part of their physical demeanor. 

Everyone has been skating wonderfully lately, you think as you pace back and forth outside the men’s locker room. 

But… What if…?

A flurry of thoughts pops up in your head as you mutter to yourself about everything you are packing and if you have all the schedule down correctly. I’m worried that they are going to let nerves get to them. I’m worried they are not going to hit their jumps on time or land them correctly. I’m worried that they are going to see Seokjin skate and want to give up on their dreams… I’m worried there’s going to be infighting with the room arrangement-

“Y/N?” Hoshi asks, peeking his head around the big double doors.

The noise startles you as you whip around in a fast action that makes your bad ankle throb in pain. You wince as Jimin walks out of the door confidently the same time you start to fall over, footing not stable as your youngest pupil catches your tumbling body with ease. 

“Woah, coach… You okay?” He asks you, worry coloring his tone as he looks down at you with a concerned expression. Jimin’s smokey grey hair dangles from his scalp as he looms over you, the other boys coming up from behind the door. They stare at you over Jimin’s shoulders as you hang halfway in the air, mouth open, eyes wide as your head is reeling from the events that just transpired in a few, short matter of seconds. 

You weren’t expecting Jimin to catch you, his reflexes strong and developed, but then again, you weren’t expecting to have a bad flare up in your bad leg either. 

“Y-Yeah…” You shake your head, coming back to this reality as Jimin rights you to your feet. “Sorry, I lost my footing.” You smile as you try and bite the pain shooting through your leg away, clenching your jaw. 

“Don’t lie.” Yoongi speaks up behind Hoseok and Jimin who linger in front of your vision. “It’s your bad leg, isn’t it?”

Ahh. Damn you, Min Yoongi! You are as perceptive as ever, you curse him out as you purse your lips at his observation. 

Hoseok’s eyes narrow as he looks down at you, orbs on fire as he stares holes into your brain. Jimin is also looking at you with a grim expression, making your insides twist around each other. You did not want to be the subject of this conversation anymore. You didn’t want to be reminded of your failure. 

With an inhale a tight breath, you turn towards your old friend with a wide smile, trying to erase the weird tension in the air. “Hoshi, how are they looking?”

He chuckles while shaking his head, dark hair moving with him. “They are fine! Each of them is healthy and looking fit as ever. Top champion athletes who I’ll be rooting for this whole season!” Hoshi pauses as he looks you up and down. “Maybe I should check you out too, Y/N? Make sure you are doing okay?” 

All three boys protectively step in front of you, forming a weirdly silent half-circle around your body pressed against the wall, blocking Hoshi from even thinking about laying a finger on you. 

“Boys.” You sigh, shaking your head, placing a hand on both Jimin and Hoseok’s shoulders. “He is not being sexual. That is his job and that’s what I pay him for.” 

Kwon Soonyoung or Hoshi - as you know and love him as - has been your skating mate since you were young. Though he skated more for fun than you, you always remained really good friends as he blossomed into an athletic trainer, asking him for small checkups on your little team of four from time to time. He was there for you during your whole competitive skating career: when you went to the Olympics and won Worlds and Grand Prixs, harboring you away from the press when you fell, during your recovery, and even now. He was a true friend - not just your friend for the clout and glory like some of the people you know were. And if you were honest, if he wasn’t married to Momo, you would consider him a love interest of sorts.

But this isn’t a drama on TV or anything and the dating pool was shallow ever since you’ve practically shut the world out...

After you caught feelings and literally fell for the most brilliant skater in the world… which was the reason for your nasty fall that shook your world upside down…

“I’m fine.” You say sternly, looking away from your students and long time friend. 

“No, you aren’t.” Hoshi retorts, shaking his head. “I’ll just check you out right here then.” Hoshi nods as he points to his wedding ring as the boys glare daggers into his skull. “Besides, the wife will kill me if I even think about another lady like that.” The boys reluctantly step away as you find the nearest bench in the locker room, sheepish expressions on their faces. “You boys know we have been friends for years.” 

“Be nice to Hoshi.” You demand with a smile as Hoshi presses against your ankle with force in certain areas. “He’s like the only help I have as far as staff goes!” You blink the wince away as he turns you into an uncomfortable position, pain radiating up your leg and creeping onto your spine. 

“You three are vicious! Hahaha!” Hoshi laughs as your students shift behind him. “Are you sure you didn’t play hockey or anything before the leotards?” 

They all share a brief glance with each other, stepping from foot to foot silently, biting their lips as they are all oddly quiet for some reason. It’s especially strange for Hoseok to be this eerily silent. Everything they are doing is suspicious, you think, as you watch Hoseok lock eyes with Yoongi for longer than you would have figured they would be comfortable with. Jimin surprises you as you look over to him, catching him in a powerful gaze that lingers on your face before he turns away. 

“I’m going for a run.” He states out of the blue, dropping down into a lunge, beckoning the other two to come with him. They nod, following in the youngests footsteps, leaving you alone with Hoshi. 

“Only run about a mile then come back!” You shout as Hoshi twinges your foot once more.

All your students get along for the most part. There’s been some small infighting about schedules and ice time, but that doesn’t matter to you. You are so grateful that they seem to be on the same page about things for the most part. Though Jimin is the youngest, he is the leader of the three without a doubt. Hoseok is loud and bright, he is pretty passive, happy to do whatever will make the majority the most pleased. Yoongi wasn’t very confrontational unless he was skating, so he was easy to sway in the direction away from tense areas. 

One thing they have in common though is that they all absolutely hate when any man other than them gives you attention. 

You guess they give Hoshi a pass and don’t linger over you both because you deem him worthy of a strictly friendship type of relationship. 

“Did you train them to do that?” Hoshi asks as he slips your shoe and sock off quickly, wrapping your ankle to stabilize it once they are completely out of sight. 

“Do what?” You ask, titling your head to the side. 

“Build a wall between you and other people?” He snorts, quickly working on your ankle. 

“No. Of course not.” You snort, looking away. “They have minds of their own… It is scary how they move on instincts though…” You chuckle. 

“Probably because they are all into you.” Hoshi states and your heart drops.

“What?! No?!” Is all you can reply with, eyes blowing wide. No… That can’t be true. “They are my students, Hosh…” You shake your head, still not looking at him, instead at the weird brown spot in the corner of the ceiling. Your arms folded across your chest as you huff. “I have a strictly professional relationship with them.” Right?

“And?” He looks up at you as he finishes wrapping you up discreetly, putting your sock and sneaker back on. The pressure of the binding is oddly comforting, you think as the biting, stinging pain subsides for now. “You baby them.”  

“I do not.” You point as he holds out an arm and helps you to your feet. 

“You do. And they baby you too.” Hoshi nods as he grabs his phone. “I would tread lightly with your athletes, Y/N.” He pauses as he sends a prescription notice to your phone for pain medication. “Unless you are into that.” He winks and you nearly scream in the locker room as you push him away from you. 

There’s no way. 

There’s no way you feel something more for them except admiration and joy watching them become powerful athletes. And that’s all… Right?

“Have you told them about him?” Hoshi asks quietly then, looking at you as if looking beyond your orbs and into your soul. 

You look away to that spot on the ceiling again, a blush of embarrassment blooming on your face. “About who?”

Hoshi sighs like you’ve knocked the wind out of him, putting his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “You need to tell them one day… Before they meet him.”

You feel like you are being scolded by your father but you say nothing. You know he is right, but telling them about how hard and fast you fell for him… You don’t want to. You will. Soon. But, not just yet. 

“What if they meet him and they think the world about him only to find out that you-“

“I’ll tell them!” You blurt out, body shaking for some unknown reason. “I-I know I need to disclose this information to them, but…” Tears prick your eyes, your bottom lip trembling as Hoshi brings you in for a tight hug. “...It’s so-o h-hard to tell the-them the world I held in-n the palm o-of m-my hand s-s-stopped spinning because-use I-I fell in l-love with the wr-wrong man-n-n~!” You hiccup, clinging to Hoshi’s athletic jacket as you stammer, wailing in this sweaty, smelly locker room. 

He says nothing like the strong friend he is. He knows you know you need to spill your guts to the men who worship him like an idol but, you’ll do it on your terms, and your terms alone.

-

“Listen,” Jimin looks up at the older boys as he huffs against the brick wall of the ice rink, “I don’t care who places, but one of us has to win the Grand Prix for coach.”

“Do you not believe in us, Jimin?” Yoongi says in his monotone voice, panting after their sprint they just ran together. His demeanor is like ice but his orbs are fiery in comparison. 

The youngest shifts as he looks Yoongi in the eye, brows knitting together. “I-“

“Guys, let’s just calm down...” Hoseok tries to make peace, holding up his arms defensively. He can always sense tension in the air because he hates it. Hoseok would rather everyone be smiling and laughing, especially his teammates. 

“No, I-“ Jimin tries again.

“Because that’s what it sounds like, like you have zero confidence in us and in yourself.” Yoongi interrupts him, moving his white hair which was damp with sweat away from his brow. He surprises the other two boys as he smiles with a dark undertone attached to it. “No matter what the odds are, one of us will be on the podium for Y/N.”

“Yeah!” Jimin and Hoseok both shout in unison, smirking all the while. 

They were going to claim the Grand Prix for all to see.

Especially their beloved coach whom they adore probably more than they should...

-

It’s your last night at home for some time so you decided to head to bed early this evening, wanting to snuggle into your sheets as much as possible. There’s nothing like coming home from a long day and snuggling into your blankets and comforters. You are going to miss this, you think as your lashes blink slowly, feeling heavy and thick. 

It’s going to be a long month, that’s for sure.

Sleep entangles itself into your brain, your eyelids barely being able to remain open, the velvet throes of darkness beckoning you to become one with its sweet embrace… Then… Just when you think you are about to rest comfortably, your phone rings. 

You groan, rolling over to your side, away from the mind-numbingly annoying noise of your ringtone and wait until it stops. You sigh once it stops chiming but then it continues only a few seconds later. You suppose whoever is making all the racket is not going to stop until you do pick up your phone. 

With a reluctant huff you roll back over to the other side of your pillow, slide your finger across the screen, and immediately answer the call without looking who it is, ready to go back to a peaceful slumber when you are off this call. 

“H-Hello?” You mutter, voice thick and rough from lack of use this evening. 

“Good evening, Y/N.” Your heart stops beating. You know that soft, buttery tone anywhere. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Oh, my god… “Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything…”

Is he really on the phone with me right now? It’s been two years… He shouldn’t still have my number...

“I was just getting ready for bed…” You murmur, though you are full awake at this point. “What can I do for you this evening? Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

He laughs then. Squeaky and high-pitched - weirdly magical and comical in the same breath. Just like you remember it. Your heart pits further into your stomach as you miss waking up in the same bed as him…

No, he left you remember, dummy? He doesn’t date girls who are “one-medal wonders”. So then, why is he calling me? 

“I am resting!” He says with an air of cockiness in his smooth voice. He pauses after he says this, contemplating his word choice carefully. “I heard you are training three promising young men this year… Should I be scared they are going to come for my crown?” 

Yes! You bastard, yes! You think but don’t say anything, your dinner threatening your insides with the amount of stress that this call is placing you under. Jimin is going to rip it from you with his beautiful candaleivers, Yoongi is going to knock your socks off with his camel spins, and Hoseok is going to make you envy the air as he jumps through it like butter. 

“You’ll just have to see what they are made of on the ice.” Is all you can say in return. 

He laughs again. You both adore and loathe the sound so close to your ears at the same time. 

“Y/N…” He says your name and you nearly see stars. “The reason I called was because I wanted to know…” He inhales like he is nervous or something. You snort. Him, nervous? What a joke. “I wanted to know if I may see you after the first night of short programs in America?”

“What?”

Your mouth voices what your mind is thinking faster than you can reel our tongue back in. You feel hot and clammy, body vibrating under your covers. 

“I mean-“ you clear your throat, palms hot. “Why me?” 

He pauses again and you have so many questions you want to ask besides this one, simple query. 

“Why not you?” He retorts easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You broke my heart… You didn’t want me… I wasn’t good enough for you… We haven’t spoken in so long… You-

“Okay…” Your lips move again, your brain and heart on opposing wavelengths… “Sure…” 

“Great!” His voice is bright and warm, a smile in his tone. “I’ll see you after I perform then! Goodnight, Y/N! I’ll see you in America.”

He hangs up before you can say anything and you fling your covers off, a gurgle echoing from the deep chambers of your body. Your dinner and your stomach are surely not communicating either. 

-

“Coach,” Yoongi’s rasp makes your bloodshot eyes look up from your tablet, swiveling your head to meet his steely gaze. You lift your brow as he simply says, “Jimin just farted.”

“What?!” Jimin shrieks, nearly jumping out of his seat next to him. “Yoongi, what the hell?”

“Ew, yeah.” Hoseok nods in the seat behind Jimin and Yoongi, face twisted with disgust, pinching his nose for a dramatic effect. “Jiminie, that’s gross.”

“Did you eat a whole carton of ice cream last night?” Yoongi waves his hand in front of his face, eyebrows furrowing with a look of pure displeasure on his usually stoic features. “It smells like it was a wet one.”

“Whoever smelled it, dealt it!” Hoseok rhymes with a happy expression glossing his features. 

“How dare you!” Jimin’s demeanor puffs out like a cat’s fur would if it was on the defense. 

“First of all-“ You try to speak up. 

“Yoongi is the oldest here!” Jimin’s voice is high-pitched and whiny. “Why is he always picking on me?” The youngest demands, puffy lips poised in a lush frown as you glare at them from the front of Hoshi’s vehicle. Your poor friend drives in silence. 

“It’s because you are an easy target.” Hoseok howls, sniggering as Jimin scoffs loudly. Yoongi goes back to scrolling through his phone, gloating sparkle in his eyes giving you the only hint that he knows exactly what he did. “Maybe if you could land a double axel he wouldn’t”

“Listen!” The skin under your left eye twitches as you put your authority voice on. And it’s only five in the morning. “I am going to murder you, Jung, if you don’t stop egging them on!” He quiets down with a shrug, popping his headphones in. “Park, stop meeting them at their level. They are just doing it to get a rise out of you because it works every time.” Jimin huffs dramatically once more, turning his pretty face to look out at the darkened scenery passing the car. “And you,” you point to the oldest in the car, “I will have ZERO tolerance for this behavior.” A smug grin finds your lips now, turning your attention back to the front of the vehicle. “Besides, it was you who let that wet one rip, Min.” 

“Coach!” His rasp drips with embarrassment as the whole car giggles.

“Not another peep until we have landed in America!” You howl, flicking on the radio which plays a melconcoloy country song in your annoyed wake, only heightening your mood. 

-

Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. 

He is freaking out. And he hates flights with his whole being. He hates heights, being too far away from the ground - the sky is foreign territory. He usually sits with his coach because she is like the parent who comes and checks your room for monsters right before you go to bed. He never had that so when he could find authority in her, he let her have full control, never fighting her back on her decisions. No. He’s done that his whole life. She distracts him, talks him through his breathing, his routine, any new dance moves he’s learned, plays games with him while the plane is taking off and landing - some may argue that this is the scariest portion of the ride indeed.

But now, his coach, whose hair smells like sea salt and roses, has passed out on his shoulder during the plane ride, sleeping soundly. 

It surely would be more endearing and he would relish in the fact that his teammates are throwing daggers and stones his way with their eyes and thoughts. If only he could focus. Except Hoseok is freaking out, too burdened by the little demons that torment and torture his mind as his coach breathes in and out slowly. 

The flight attendant said they would be landing soon. He spoke enough of the language to pick that up, surely. 

But what does he do? 

He could wake her up and ask her to hold his hand shamelessly like he does at the end of a long flight. But then he remembers the coach’s bloodshot eyes and how she looked like she didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. He wants to run, to get up and puke in the bathroom, at least he could focus on the bubbling pressure building inside his lower abdomen if only for a second. But then, he would be disturbing his coach and that is something - even in this mentally panic stricken state was in - Hoseok could not bring himself to move, to not flinch a muscle. He could pick at the skin around his nails until they bleed. But then his coach would worry about his presentation, doting on his appearance because, “When you are on the ice, the judges are ruthless.” She says bitterly. “They are your Gods and they WILL take away points for the hangnail on your pinky nail or the hanging thread of your pants.” 

So he just sits there, listening to the sounds of the murmuring of the sea of people on the plane, the hum of the aircraft speeding through the sky, the captain saying they were landing in just a few short minutes and everyone should return to their seats including flight attendants. Hoseok was silently sweating with wide eyes, a trait he picked up from his younger years, living at the farm with his siblings and father with his arms raised over their mother, flipping through his options of the best approach to not have a full blown panic attack when he feels it. 

Coach’s warm hand slips into his, her breathing catching, body stirring as she says so softly he barely picks it up, “Sorry, Hoseok, I’m here.” 

Hoseok’s nerves dissolve like chocolate upon one’s warm tongue after that.

He isn’t freaking out anymore as he gives her small hand a gentle squeeze back. 

-

The Grand Prix is an exhausting event. Six weeks of this can affect someone’s mental state. And by this you mean: The traveling, the heavy luggage, the noise, the herding of the boys from one area to the next, the countless trainers you have to talk to and show your certifications to each time, proving you were in fact who you say you are.

Above everything else that is fueling your migraine today, it is that the people in these events are the ones you don’t miss at all. 

All the competitors are being looked at by some of the best athletic trainers in the country, even though not all of them skate today. You surely don’t miss that part: being stripped down mostly naked and looked at under a microscope, the barrage of questions, the peeing in the cups, the scales, the cold sterile medical equipment…

You miss none of it but you are happy to be here for the boys.

The looks coaches and skaters give you over their shoulders, behind their backs, not meeting your gaze have you feeling exhausted. People whisper your name as if you are a ghost who has passed on from this life. One medal wonders don’t have a place here and they certainly don’t have a place amongst some of the finest coaches who have ever made and shaped great skaters. 

You must look like a frightened rabbit, willingly stepping into the den of a hungry wolf, walking into the first arena of the Grand Prix in some world renowned city in America. 

As you wait for the boys to be picked apart you camp in a nearly deserted part of the rink which was gleaming under the golden lights overhead. A gloss of the frozen slick seemed to taunt you, calling your name as it glitters before you, beckoning you to lace up skates and glide onto the ice, making beautiful patterns in the gleaming ground. It’s pretty, but dangerous, and you would not be a simple moth drawn to a dubious bright flame again.

You try to pry your eyes away. 

But you cannot. 

You’ve promised yourself and your pride that you will never step foot upon the ice again. 

A noise startles you out of your swirling thoughts from years and months of your past. You suck in a breath as some skaters, all glitzed and glammed out in their outfits, are taking to the ice. Today was the first round of short programs for men and women singles as well as pairs. A low hum radiates through the arena, both from the low murmur of people and the anticipation that sparks in the air. The event people turned on the music for skaters to begin their warmups. The only one who was truly skating today was Hoseok, so Yoongi and Jimin would be able to relax and size up the competition for the rest of the day. 

Thankfully, the event meant that all three of your students would be competing on different days of this event. Hoseok starts, followed by Jimin, then Yoongi brings up the rear. So, at least the thought of competing within the group wouldn’t be as prevalent in their minds. Different days also meant visiting different countries for the competition which could make or break a skater entirely. Jet lag and travel exhaustion are something not to be tempered with. 

“Yo, Park Jimin! Long time no see!” A deep voice wafts from behind the four of you as you stand next to the ice in a little pod of your own. 

Jimin’s tired demeanor brightens as soon as he hears the deep timbre call, turning and embracing the taller, broader skater. You, on the other hand, almost cower for the interaction you know you could not avoid any longer was about to take place. 

“Kim Taehyung!” Jimin catches him, embracing in a tight bear hug, smiling vividly. “It’s good to see you, man!” He says, patting the bigger skater on the back fondly. 

“Likewise, buddy!” Taehyung smiles a boxy grin down at him as skaters who are competing today are welcome to warm up on the ice. 

Kim Taehyung, under the dynasty of the great skater turned coach Kim Namjoon was the same age as Jimin. Though you are biased, you don’t think he is a better skater. Though he is very well known for his camel spins. You don’t think you have much to worry about when it comes to this particular member of the Kim squad this Grand Prix.

There are certainly more formidable foes that come from that devious coaching lineage...

The Kim dynasty harbors only a very select few into its doors and under Mr. infamous Kim Namjoon himself. You’ve only seen him skate in the flesh once when it was your first year competing on the senior ladies circuit. He was quite young then too, but my oh my if he wasn’t breaking records and climbing his way to the top like a prodigy does. Kim Namjoon was everything a professional, gold medal athlete should be and more. He was breathtaking, jumping so high, landing so clean all the while. Namjoon was poised and elegant on the edges of his skates yet, so powerfully precise. It still makes your head spin when you rewatch old videos from his competitive days. How he makes it look so freaking easy, you’ll never figure it out. 

“Well, well, well!” You hear it, the silky smooth pur of the world’s most popular skater draws from behind you. “What an odd looking motley crew you have here, Y/N.” You try and shake off the little high you got from him saying your name out loud. A shiver runs up your spine and you inhale a tight breath. Your shoulders are tense and rigid as you turn around with a slight grimace, totally ill-prepared for this interaction. As you mentally side yourself up to speak, you miss the various pairs of eyes upon your face. “Long time no see, doll.”

“Y-Yeah…” Is all you can manage as you stare at him with wide eyes and your mouth hanging wide open. 

Kim Seokjin, world-wide handsome with his long wavy hair and his pretty expressive eyes, smiles warmly when you meet his gaze and you swear you might pass out. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him with this particular gaze too. He was absolutely stunning in every way, shape, and form. Tall, muscular in the right areas, broad-shouldered, beautiful bone-structure… You really feel like you could go on for hours, rambling about the physical confidence and prowess he exudes from all his non-existent pores. 

Before you have a chance to speak, it’s Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok pulling the two of you in opposite directions with stern looks upon their faces. 

“Don’t talk to other coaches like that.” You hear the clear bass of Kim Namjoon scold Seokjin as he prepares another skater, Kim Jungwoo, for his first time skating at a Grand Prix.

“What was that all about?” Yoongi nearly growls as you have been ushered a safe distance away from the Kim clan. 

“Yeah, coach…” Jimin’s eyes you with suspicion. “Do you know him?” 

You gulp. Is there nothing I can get away with anymore? You think to yourself quickly. “In what way?”

“Personally or professionally?” Jimin asks, pressing the issue further. You feel so hot standing next to a bed of frozen ground. 

“Of course I know him professionally.” You snort before their combined heavy gaze makes you crack under their weighty stares. “I know him personally, yes.” You try to state with a confident tone, but your voice wavers, becoming shaky at best. You clear your throat. “No more distractions! Jung has to warm up!” Hoseok’s round is called for warm up once more and you shoo the other two away, wanting to watch him glide and think in peace. 

Hoseok steps onto the ice and immediately you can tell he is on his A-game, doing a triple toe as soon as he is in the middle of the ice. The audience “oohs” and “aahs” for your middle child of a student and you can just tell he is oozing with easy confidence it makes you jealous. A smile graces your lips as you revel in how pretty that is as he continues warming up around the boards of the center calmly, grinning to himself. Hoseok is so raw and eager compared to the other two, it gives you hope that he will go far in this year's Grand Prix. 

But, that also potentially means facing Jimin and Yoongi. You aren’t sure if your heart can handle any more, especially seeing your boys face off between one another. 

Blades at the bottom of skates are sharp but not nearly as sharp compared to the attitude some skaters have with each other. 

-

Chapter Two

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!! :D

#bwcssy2 #secret santa 2020 #bts #bts fanfiction #go figure! #min yoongi #park jimin #jung hoseok #fluff #angst #figure skating au #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #suga x reader #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

[kth1]

♕ Dearest @luxekook. My gift for you this holiday season, thanks to @btswriterscollective Secret Santa Event! I tried my best to flow the boys in a pretty way~

Fully inspired through you and your tropes, I hope you enjoy this! Maybe it will inspire you for another fic and next thing you know you’re knockin’ on my door for another banner hee-hee :) ♕ -From Winterberry aka Maggie

#bwcssy2 #bangtanarmynet #armysource #bts moodboard #moodboard #edit #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #harry potter au #luxekook

[lunar-jimin]

i don’t want to fall in love, if he won’t be here next year

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, wee bit of angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: feelings, soft kookie, swearing, kissing

Summary: The universe was evil to make you spend Christmas Eve alone with your best friend who you definitely are not in love with. 

A/N: This is for the lovely @namluve​ through @btswriterscollective​ Secret Santa project! Happy holidays, love! Sorry that it’s at the later end of the posting period, but I hope you enjoy!

“For fuck’s sake Jungkook, can’t you unzip your own damn pants?”

“It’s not my fault they got stuck,” he whined, back arched awkwardly as he attempted to see what he was doing, “and I can’t see it because the zipper is in the fucking back.”

You sigh. The mall had started using Santa suits with the zipper in the back after some curious kid showed off Jimin’s candy cane boxers to the entirety of the shopping center last year. Now, your unfortunate best friend had managed to get the damn thing stuck.

“Move,” you frown, taking the zipper from him. You wiggled it back and forth a couple times before it finally moved down the rest of its track.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I was gonna be stuck in these forever.”

“God, you’re so overdramatic. It’s a wonder you make it through the day without me babying you every step of the way.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. You were the one who almost burnt down the kitchen making ramen.”

You roll your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You continue to strip yourself of your itchy elf dress and the god awful red and white striped tights to match. It takes everything in you not to glance over at Jungkook who is now inevitably just in a muscle tee and tight black underwear.

So what, your best friend was one of the prettier humans to ever grace this planet? You were a grown woman. You had self-control. And you definitely didn’t want him to bend you over this sticky locker room bench and fuck you into the next century. You don’t even need to think about the fact that you were maybe, kinda, sorta, totally, irreversibly in love with him.

“So it’s just you and me tonight, huh?” his voice is less agitated, now that he’s free of his confines.

You snuck a glance and were happy to find him in matching grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. Still deadly hot, but your panties would stay dry. For now.

“Yeah, I suppose. I’m gonna miss our holiday ragers.”

Normally, you would spend Christmas Eve getting black-out drunk with your friends. This year, however, most of them were going home to their families or had started families of their own. Which left you and Jungkook alone with each other for the first time in years.

You were nervous. And you hated that. There was no reason why you should feel like throwing up at the prospect of spending an evening with your best friend. You had done this a million times, why was this time so special? Maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you spent more than two hours alone with him.

Ever since Jungkook started dating some girl from his animation class last year, the time the two of you spent together had decreased drastically. You couldn’t blame him, everyone around you was finding themselves in long-term relationships, excited to build a future now that college was almost over. He was just doing the same, and for a while, you thought she would be the one (a thought that left you crying in your bed for a week). You’re embarrassed to admit how pleased you were when Jungkook arrived at your doorstep four months ago, piss drunk at three in the morning to tell you she had cheated on him.

That was the last time you had spent a decent chunk of time and he was either crying or asleep for most of it. But now, here you were, following Jungkook to his beat-up Toyota Corolla, with the intent to spend the night with him. And while he hadn’t shown so much as the slightest hint that he may share your feelings, you couldn’t help but hope.

Three hours later, your nerves have been calmed by the half-a-bottle of wine you’ve downed. Your face is warm, but the spot on your thigh where his hand rests is warmer. Jungkook had convinced you to watch the Holidate despite your better judgment, and now you wanted to bleach your eyes.

“I can’t believe we watched that,” you groan into his shoulder, “I should be able to sue the production company for the two hours of my life that just got wasted.”

Jungkook lets out a buzzed giggle at your complaint, body shaking lightly next to yours.

“It was terrible,” he agreed, “but Seokjin said it was good.”

“Jin has a terrible taste in movies, and you know it.”

“True.”

He turned to look at you, little sparkles in his doe eyes as he gave you the sweetest smile. Your stomach flips.

“So, what do you want to watch?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Do we really have to?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love Die Hard just as much as me,” you slap him playfully, “besides, you know you’re going to make me watch Love Actually after this.”

“Whatever.”

“You know it’s true, Kookie. We all know you’re a hoe for Bruce.”

“Am not.”

“If you want to live in denial, who am I to stop you.”

Despite his vehement denial of loving the movie, Jungkook quoted nearly the whole damn thing. If it weren’t for his adorable ‘yippee-ki-yay motherfucker’, you probably would’ve smacked him.

“You didn’t have to quote the entire thing,” you grumble.

“Sorry.”

He looks up at you with his doe eyes and you melt.

“It’s fine, just don’t do it with Love Actually. It’s confusing enough as it is without you talking over it.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Just admit to me you actually love the movie though.”

“I really don’t see the appeal.”

“How can you not see the appeal? It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Yeah, but it’s confusing with all the different stories and I don’t understand British people at all. Also, as a single person, it’s incredibly painful.”

“How is it painful?”

“Because I want someone to fall in love with and cuddle me throughout the holidays.”

“You have me, you know?”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Kookie.”

“What do you mean?”

He’s grinning cheekily, completely aware of how uncomfortable his question makes you. You may be in love with him, but that does not stop you from thinking he’s a little shit sometimes.

“I want, you know, a partner, someone who’ll take me on dates, and kiss me, and do other things.”

“What other things?”

“Jeon Jungkook, you know what I’m talking about.”

Despite being best friends with Jungkook since the pair of you were in pull-ups, you had never felt comfortable talking about sex with him, even before you realized your feelings. You just hadn’t had a lot of experience, limited to a few boyfriends, and the subject wasn’t one you were comfortable with. Luckily, it was a topic Jungkook hadn’t brought up. Until now.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you just want a holiday fuck buddy.”

You smack his bicep, but don’t respond. Neither does he, simply turning to the screen before him and pressing play.

You’ll never admit it to Jungkook, but you do quite enjoy the movie. Sure it was a little painful to watch a ten-year-old have a more successful love life than yourself, but the storytelling was good. By the time the credits were rolling, you were only a little embarrassed to admit there were a few tears in your eyes.

When you looked over at Jungkook, you were surprised to find a downcast face.

“Is everything alright, Kookie?”

He looks back at you and you were surprised to find tears running down his cheek.

“Oh gosh, Kook, what happened?”

He remains silent, only taking your hand in his, thumb gently rubbing over your skin. His eyes stare down at where your palms meet, and despite your best friend’s apparent distress, you can’t help but notice the warm tingles radiating from his touch. With your free hand, you reach up to brush the tears from his cheek, a pout forming on your lips.

“It’s just,” he sighs, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes, “it’s just, I want it to, you know.”

You tilt your head to the side confused.

“What are you talking about Kook?”

“What you were saying earlier, about the cuddling and dates and shit. I want it too.”

“Oh, Kookie.”

You pull him into, clasping his neck as he buries his nose in your shoulders. You want so badly to tell him that he can have it. He can have all of it and more. With you. But you know now is not the time for confessions.

He pulls his head back to look at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“What is it Kookie?”

He looks down at this lap and then back up at you.

“I don’t want it with just anyone.”

“Well of course not, you’d want it with someone who can love and cherish you just as much as you love and cherish them.”

A dull ache in your heart was beginning to grow. He was so close to being yours, lips only inches away. But yet it seemed a mile still remained between the two of you.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You are once again sent hurling back into confusion.

“Well then what do you mean?”

“I want,” he falters, breathing unsteady like a fish out of water. He grabs your hands again, holding them tightly as if he was afraid you’d slip away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind only just beginning to grasp onto what was happening. Part of you refused to believe, refused to hope, less you were wrong.

“I want you.”

His voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear, but the words were there. You felt your body tense up, shocks running up and down your spine, sirens wailing in your head. You had hoped for this moment for months, no, years, and here you were, and you were totally unsure what to do with yourself.

When you don’t respond, he pulls away and turns to face the TV.

“I’m sorry,” you see him wince in an attempt to stop the tears that are forming in his eyes, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget that I ever opened my mouth.”

“Kookie I…”

He turns to look at you and you can’t help yourself. His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about during lonely nights. He responds immediately to your kiss, mouth forming against yours as his hands come to cup your jaw softly. Soft glowing warmth radiates throughout you and you are no longer sure whether the tears you feel on your cheeks are his or yours.

You pull away and look into his eyes and at once you recognize the twinkle dancing in them.

Love. Adoration.

He didn’t need to say the words. They were already there. Unspoken. Filling the small space between his body and yours. Radiating throughout the room.

He grabs your waist and swings your body over his so that he is slotted between his thighs. Your hair falls down around you as he stares up at you, his eyes telling you everything you’d ever need to know.

“Will you be mine?”

You nod before leaning down and pecking his lips. You want more than anything in this world to be his.

“I love you, Kookie.”

His eyes go wide, body stiff beneath yours. He slowly lifts a hand up to brush the hair out of your face.

“I love you too.”

A year later, you walk back into the living room with two glasses of wine in your hands to find him down on one knee.

#bwcssy2 #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #bangtanuniversity #bangtanarmynet #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #fluff #fanfic #bangtan #sonyeondan

[luxekook]

Ho ho ho and happy holidays dearest Carese @honeyj00ns!

‘Tis I, Frost, aka Reese, aka luxekook, aka Miss My-life-is-a-mess, aka your Secret Santa from the @btswriterscollective​ event! While I had every intention to write you a brilliant fic that would hopefully come somewhat close to what you deserve, I was only able to scrounge together this cute photo collage uwu. So, I hope you enjoy these STELLAR, BEAUTIFUL, GODLIKE pictures of Namjoon and Jimin (Joon in particular is lookin’ like a SNACC). 

I really enjoyed getting to know you over this holiday season, and I hope that you will not be a stranger! I really did read through a lot of your masterlist and I STAN HARD. Hope you had the very best Christmas and that you will have an even more joyous New Year!

ps - I still may write the fic I planned for you eventually ;)) 

#bwcssy2 #secret santa event #bts moodboard #bts #namjoon #jimin #holiday vibes #just call me frost #uwu