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alphabetboyluvr · 8 months

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HUSH | MYG - ONE

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 17.5k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

hush is written in two formats: messaging transcripts and my regular writing style

warnings: we're sexting, straight off the bat!! love that for our hush couple!! allusions to sending nudes, mentions of blueballing lmao, sex toys, general masturbation malarky, mentions of ass play <33, they video call during finales (back camera only!!!), yoongi has a massive cock, like im talking humongous, so BIG (and factually accurate!!) they're switchy aka he tries dom and she's too much of a brat that he folds, he is whiney and needy and obsessed, and she enjoys that! you get to fill in the gaps as if you're really sexting him, lucky you <33 there's also exactly (1) near foot job, a needy jk, (1) banana milk mention, a playfight, miscommunication, a mysterious night that will never be mentioned in conversation. oh yeah and yoongi and you don't realise you're sexting one another ! oops!!!! yoongi is uncircumcised cause ik some people care about that?? just my preference when writing, imagine what u like! no *actual* smut in this one... just... much sexting!

before you read: please read these for a little context on the story - the app (x) and the band (x)

minors dni!!!

New Hush Crush in your Secret Circle! D4m0cl3s

10:43PM

D4m0cl3s: hey, stranger

Cl3m3ntin3: well hello there how are you??

D4m0cl3s: i'm all good. yourself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah, yeah, im all good just tryna figure out this damn app, lmao

D4m0cl3s: you new around these parts?

Cl3m3ntin3: i am indeed you've taken my secret circle virginity lucky you x

D4m0cl3s: oh shit well, i am honoured i can be your guide to all things hush x

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, i seeeeee an expert, are we? ;)

D4m0cl3s: just realised how tragic it is to be a self-proclaimed dating app expert, so... no not an expert just.... well versed?

Cl3m3ntin3: hahaha sureeee so, tell me, mr hush expert, how do these conversations usually go

D4m0cl3s: okay, 1: not an expert and 2: just general chit chat get an idea of what you're both looking for stuff like that

Cl3m3ntin3: 1: keep telling yourself that, babe and 2: what are you looking for?

D4m0cl3s: 1: calling me babe, already? score. 2: a girl who calls me babe.

Cl3m3ntin3: looks like my work here is done, then ;) seeeeeeya x

D4m0cl3s: no don't go stay i think we'll get along tell me what you're looking for

Cl3m3ntin3: a man who begs for my attention so looks like your work here is done, too ;)

D4m0cl3s: well, aren't we just a match made in heaven?

Cl3m3ntin3: hell* definitely a match made in hell

D4m0cl3s: you a sinner?

Cl3m3ntin3: would you like me to be?

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no

Cl3m3ntin3: shame maybe we are after different things after all

D4m0cl3s: woaaah, i never said that i was just trying to be a gentleman take things slow be respectful

Cl3m3ntin3: it's anonymous, babe i didn't sign up for hush looking to be wined and dined or to be treated like a lady quite the opposite, actually so you don't need to worry about tarnishing your reputation, or whatever your secrets are safe with me ;)

D4m0cl3s: 1. i couldn't give a shit about my reputation and 2. it's just that people are on this app for different reasons don't wanna assume everyone is after the same thing

Cl3m3ntin3: 1. untouchable, are you? and 2. well, im pretty sure you know what i'm here for and if it's not abundantly obvious: nothing serious. it's late, and i'm bored. what's a girl to do in those kinds of situations? play all alone? boringgg. my cards are on the table, damocles you're up.

D4m0cl3s: untouchable...something like that and fine if you really wanna know i'm not looking for a girl to take home to my mother

Cl3m3ntin3: good mothers don't tend to like me all that much

D4m0cl3s: no?

Cl3m3ntin3: nah fathers on the other hand? fucking love me

D4m0cl3s: and you wonder why the mothers hate you?

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, no im fully aware it's because im the only thing that can get their husbands' perpetually flaccid cocks hard :)

D4m0cl3s: jesus christ you really are built for sin, aren't you?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh :) fancy a dance with the devil?

D4m0cl3s: not tonight but you've got me interested

Cl3m3ntin3: </3 can't believe you're blue balling me

D4m0cl3s: trust me im blue balling myself i've got an early schedule in the morning can't stay up all night entertaining some girl on a fucking app ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: okay 1: ouch, if anyone was doing the entertaining, it would be me and 2: prove it

D4m0cl3s: prove it?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh prove that you're blue balling yourself

D4m0cl3s: again, jesus christ you are something else

Cl3m3ntin3: thank you :D now... proof

D4m0cl3s: say please

Cl3m3ntin3: you want me to get down on my knees, too?

D4m0cl3s: would be appreciated

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude, clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh hate you for this already >:( pretty please could you show me your cock so i know you're hard and not just lying <;33

D4m0cl3s: see, that wasn't so hard, was it? good girl

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: holy shit

D4m0cl3s: i might keep secrets, but i never lie let's talk tomorrow, alright?

Cl3m3ntin3: noted and tomorrow for sure sweet dreams, damocles x

D4m0cl3s: night night, clementine x

[3 Months Later] KSPO DOME Seoul, South Korea

♪ // Hush - The Marías

"You'll choke if you're not careful – and how many times do I need to tell you? Put that damn phone away!"

If Park Jimin wasn't so warm in his tone with you—effervescent in his kindness, bubbling over like lightly shaken soda—you'd tell him to kiss your ass.

He stands in the doorway, a pretty smile on his plump lips. There's something about him—his eyes, you think—that subvert all his softness. Makes him quite the menace. If you hadn't been there to witness his high-school bowl cut era, you never would believed it had happened. He's too cool. It transcends his current being. Is effortless.

In all black, a pair of Chelsea boots soundtrack his arrival no matter where he is. A little scuffed, he's in need of a new pair—but they'll be a post-show bonus treat. From Jimin, to Jimin. Congratulations on a job well done.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, you swallow down the blueberry you'd been holding between your teeth in a dingy backroom of Seoul's KSPO Dome—the venue of choice for The Scouts' final hometown show. The brickwork remains exposed, grey concrete blocks a dull backdrop for the catering tables.

"Sorry mum," you banter, even though you really shouldn't. There's a glint to your eyes beneath the awkward spotlighting that really isn't preferable for the buffet-style display behind you. Fruits, snacks, it's not a bad spread—but it's got nothing on the rider you know The Scouts ask for ahead of every show.

But why shouldn't they? What the boys want, the boys get – and they've worked damn hard to get it.

He nods towards the lanyard around your neck and reminds you of this, then holds up his.

Park Jimin, it reads. Senior Tour Manager.

"Not on the clock, trouble. I'm still your boss."

"And don't I know it," you offer him a smile, still not a huge fan of the dynamic the pair of you portray at work.

You've known Jimin since the tooth fairy was leaving coins under his pillow. It's sorta hard to take him seriously when you've experienced as much life together as you have.

The way he groans when you reach for yet another blueberry is testament to the friendship you share; the kind of found siblings written about in books but rarely found in reality. There's a sanctity there. He's got your back, and he knows you'll always pick up the slack when he needs you to.

For all your difficulties in the short-term, he knows you pull it out of the bag come the time results are needed.

Knocking the blueberry into your mouth with a grin, you use your tongue to toss it to your back teeth. It's a teeny tiny little fruit. You're pretty sure you could swallow it whole without repercussion.

In fact, the reason you were so engrossed in your phone is because you were about to start a discussion with a... friend about something else you could swallow, instead – but you won't tell Jimin that. He'd throw up, probably, and then it'd be your job to clean it up.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, locking your phone and tucking it into your back pocket. "Sorry boss. Where do you need me?"

He narrows his eyes at your sarcastic use of formalities, but knows when to pick his battles with you. Instead, he knocks his head to the side and heads for the doorway, indicating for you to follow suit.

Just like he knows when to pick his battles with you, you also know when to pick yours with him.

"You've a job that people would likely kill for," he ribs, not really minding all that much. It's downtime between the off-stage rush, so there really isn't all that much to be doing—but you could at least pretend to make it look like you're working your ass off. "But you're too busy on your bloody phone. Head to hair and make-up. The next VCR segment is smaller so I need you in position pronto."

"Sure, sure," you nod like a bobbing head figurine, stealing a handful of blueberries from the catering table and heading on your way.

Jimin watches on with a curious sense of bewilderment. You're the best runner they have, by quite some margin, but also seemingly the one that's least eager to please—and by doing so, they seem to like you even more. It's an odd paradox, but it is one that you use to your advantage. Play a little dumb; wow them all when you continually and quite impressively exceed their expectations. Work smarter, not harder.

It's a work ethic that runs in the family. They shouldn't be surprised by it, not really.

The corridor you head down is flanked by sterile white lights. The only thing that's brighter are the faux smiles of entertainment execs and slimy media men, who are all after their fifteen minutes of favour—because it's not fame they'll get by rubbing shoulders with the boys on stage; it's a boost up. Something to talk big about in board room meetings.

A humble brag; a subtle flex, that is neither humble nor subtle.

Your lanyard taps against the buckle of your belt as you jog towards the stage. A cute little pat-pat-pat and jingle of keys from your beltloop soundtracks it, which you're thankful for. It covers the heavy breathing.

Just shy of the staircase leading up to the platform, which is almost shaking from the exertion of the performers on it, you hanger left into the room beside the dressing room.

While the dressing room is a dingy, theatrical maximalist's dream, the make-up department has a shell for a room. Bright white lights are overhead, to make sure the boys look amazing—which they always do regardless. Personally, you think this is all overkill. Takes away some of the authenticity. People swoon for The Scouts and the fact they're walking, talking hot messes. When the 'mess' is carefully applied with tiny brushes and kept in place with setting spray, it just doesn't hit the same.

Still, the fans are none the wiser, so who cares? Let them think Jeon Jungkook has flawless skin after an all-night bender.

Annoyingly, he normally does – but that's beyond the point.

"Here she is," Jinyu grins as you walk through the door with a little huff, immediately picking up a setlist by the door to fan your face.

Ethereal as usual, hair pulled back with a claw clip and a grown-out fringe framing her delicate features, Jinyu's mask pulled down to rest beneath her chin. A make-up brush is tucked behind her ear and half a dozen hair grips are biting onto the sleeve of her shirt, ready for the rush that will come with the next VCR break.

At least one of you is, you think.

She always is, though. Best of the bunch, she's the senior make-up artist, and has an example to lead by.

The rest of the make-up artists sit together in the far corner, nattering amongst themselves with far more animation than their hushed tones should really allow for. It's not an uncommon occurrence.

They like to pretend that they don't want anyone to know their business, but you've heard it all.

You could share, in quite some detail, how Jungkook likes to look at his regular make-up artist's lips whenever she's applying balm to his.

Apparently, the tension is 'off the charts', but he's 'too shy to do anything'. Always asks for balm, even when he doesn't need it. Or so she says.

You roll your eyes whenever you hear her brag about it, 'cause you've also heard the conversations that the boys have had behind closed doors. You know that if Jungkook is gonna be after any of the make-up artists, it's Jinyu—but the ring on her fourth finger and the toddler she sometimes brings to work on the quiet days is enough for him to stay away.

The lifestyles lived by The Scouts wouldn't allow for any of them to be playing 'Daddy'—though the girls who've squeezed into their tour bus bunks would probably beg to differ.

It's not just Jungkook who they like to gossip about—although he is the current flavour of the month, ever since he got that bloody lip ring.

In all honesty, you've heard so much shite about all five members that it's a miracle the girls still have jobs.

A new addition to the team since the overwhelming success of the last album run, the record label are keen on The Scouts keeping up their appearances. Gone are the days of sleeping in eyeliner and waking up with panda eyes—now it's carefully placed with precision beneath their tired lashlines, bloodshot eyes still bleary from the night before.

According to the last make-up room rumour mill, Tae is the type to send a late-night text to a handful of girls at once, just to see who bites (of which they all do, of course), and Yoongi is the type to sit silently in the make-up chair, only to make some absurdly unhinged comment as he leaves for the stage.

It's what they're talking about as you and Jinyu exchange glances with comically raised brows and wide eyes.

"Like, the whole time, he must have just been sat there, thinking about it," one of them swoons. "Didn't say a single word, and then just said 'your perfume smells nice, today,' as he was leaving."

The way they giggle makes your skin crawl. It's like they're constantly trying to one-up one another, using the men they work for as tools to do so – and you can't really blame them. As much as you may hate it, it's a man's world, especially in this industry. If you've gotta climb a few greasy poles to reach the top, then more power to those who choose to do so.

"He definitely spent the whole time thinking about it."

"What perfume are you wearing? I wouldn't mind him saying that to me..."

"God, he's such a dream boat."

"Something about him lately is just... ugh, off the charts. We need to stop styling his hair like that. It's too good."

You don't mean to be so judgemental – you've got a pair of eyes. Know exactly why they insist on giggling about their delusions.

Thing is, you can deal with the Jungkook gossip. Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon – whatever.

It's when they start talking about Jin and fail to hide the fact they're doing so that you're reminded of exactly why it grinds your gears so much.

In fact, quite frankly, you've a desire to pick up one of Jinyu's rattail combs and shove it into your ear. Would hope it'd impale your brain. You're not really sure how deep you'd have to go, but it would beat hearing them fawn over your older brother.

You've heard things being said about his hands that no younger sister should ever have to. Quite repulsive, actually.

Instead, you grimace, trying to gain back your breath following your sprint (of which Jimin would call a leisurely pace) up the corridor.

"Why does catering have to be so far from the dressing room?!"

Jinyu watches on with great amusement as you rest your hands on your knees, bending as if you've just run a 10k. Dramatics run in the family, or so it would seem.

"I dunno, babe," Jinyu purrs, her smile present just like it always is, voice a little extra loud to drown out the noise of the witches gathered in the corner. "Why was my favourite runner over in catering in the first place?"

You let your eyes narrow, her teasing grin only serving as a reminder that you really should know better than to keep on going back to the blueberry stash. It's not like you aren't allowed them. They'd all go to waste otherwise, so if anything, you're snacking on behalf of the company.

"You couldda just had them call one of the other runners back," you pout, knowing that it never would have been the case. She likes to make you work a little bit harder than the others, 'cause she knows you feel like you have more to prove.

Jinyu laughs, and passes you some hair grips to hook onto your sleeves for later. "You're the one who said you wanted to establish yourself! What was it you said at the start of these shows?"

You drop down onto the sofa next to her makeup station, tucking your legs up on the seat. The vibration of the music on stage pours through the walls at such a volume you're surprised you can even sustain a conversation.

"I'm gonna show them," Jinyu imitates with far more dramatic flair than you think is really necessary—but it is accurate. "I'll prove to them all that nepotism had nothing to do with me getting hired. Who, me?" She gasps."The baby sister of our very own World Wide Handsome? Hired because my brother pulled some strings? Never!"

"Fuck off," you laugh, tossing one of the sofa pillows towards her—but she catches it with ease because of course she does. Jinyu is everything you could ever aspire to be, hand-eye coordination included. The girls in the corner hush their conversation and begin to take an interest in your conversation. You ignore them, shrugging as you say, "It's not like I have a first-class degree in stage management or anything like that."

Sure, you have the qualifications—but you also aren't stupid. You know that the job is a favour amongst family. The job market these days is non-existent and while being Jin's sibling had afforded you a follower count worthy of an influencer, you need a purpose in life. It's no coincidence that you both showed an interest in the music industry—he's just far better suited to the performance side of it.

It would have been foolish to turn down the opportunity when Jin had mentioned it at a family dinner.

You're low-level, just a runner for now, but it's nice to be somewhere in which people don't give a shit about your famous brother. To most people here, he's a coworker, a colleague.

Outside of work, your entire personality to anyone you first meet is apparently being related to him. In all honestly, it's the same even in a professional capacity. Had started lying on your resume about your name, just so he wasn't the topic of conversation for all of your job interviews.

Remarkably, this is the only job that hasn't cared about him being your brother.

"Whatever you say. That's our cue. Off your arse," Jinyu says, her demeanour switching as the sound of the final chorus begins to simmer down. You don't need to be told twice, getting to your feet and into position beside her. "Can you be my right hand?"

♪ // Only Angel - Harry Styles

"Sure," you nod, expecting nothing less. It's not much, just putting some hair grips in place while she touches up their stage makeup, and switching out brushes as and when she needs them. Just enough to be helpful without getting in her way.

The girls in the corner follow suit, standing behind their chairs, eager to see the men in all of their sweaty, worn-out glory. They've made no secret of their admiration, which is why Jinyu is such a breath of fresh air. A fair few years older than the boys, she's happily married and doesn't care to swoon over them.

Like a force of nature, The Scouts rumble into the room - lips ajar, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat.

Jungkook is first, slamming his body down into one of the chairs, in dire need of something other than the piss-warm beer he's got up on stage. Tossing him a bottle of water from the countertop behind you, he catches it with ease. Smirks. Looks at you with all the adrenaline he's stolen from the eyes of the fans that adore him. Legs wide, bottle undone with one hand, there's a challenge to his gaze. Performing is a fuckin' drug to Jeon Jungkook - you just wish he didn't keep such a fucked-out look on that pretty face of his whenever he finishes.

So yeah, maybe you do get why the girls chitchat in the way that they do.

The rest of the band follow in, equally trashed, in the best possible way. Taehyung's shirt has miraculously lost all of its buttons, and Namjoon's T-shirt is now slung around his shoulders like a towel. His hair drips with sweat, arms swollen from the exertion of the last few days of shows.

Behind them, Yoongi strolls with an air of arrogance he carries off ever so well. Indifferent. Just as covered in sweat, but without the entire body exhaustion the other Scouts are displaying. He's too cool for his own good. Doesn't look at you. Looks right through you. Asshole.

And then finally, presumably because he was too busy flirting with the audience, the Scout Leader himself makes his grand entrance. Plastic cup in hand, he's nursing a Jack and Coke. Doesn't see the point in all this make-up malarky, when he knows he's just gonna sweat it off anyway. Would much rather actually take this time to recharge, even if just for a second. Thought that adding VCR's to shows would allow them more time for that, and is sorely disappointed by the reality of it.

"Fucking hell, has it been raining?" You deadpan when he slinks down into the chair opposite you and Jinyu. "Y'know, you should get some of those sweat-reduction botox injections. Would work wonders."

He looks at you with disdain that clearly tells you to fuck off. He stays silent. Kicks your shin, instead. You kick him right back.

"I swear the pair of you are worse than my two-year-old," Jinyu sighs as she drapes a towel around Jin's shoulders.

"Someone needs to humble him," you shrug.

"Someone needs to fire you," he says right back, not realising that Jinyu had passed you her hair mister, earning himself a spritz of water to the face.

Effective immediately, your hair mister privileges are taken away. Jinyu's pleasant smile looks almost stern as she takes it, putting it down on the dressing table with a thud.

"We've got three minutes," she reminds you.

"Sorry boss," you quip, not wanting her to actually get pissed off at you. There are certain liberties you can take, but you're supposed to be helping her, not a hindrance.

There's subdued energy in the room now that the boys have settled, not wanting to waste their fuel anywhere other than the stage. As you push grips into Jin's hair, ready for hairspray, you watch the room in the mirror view.

Taehyung is on his phone, not paying any attention to what's going on, his makeup artist working silently. Jungkook is patting down his own face with powder while his stylist teases his hair just right.

You look at him for a little too long, his eyes coming to meet yours in the mirror. Despite the pitch-black darkness of his irises, there's a lightness in his gaze—one that has your skin feeling all prickly and hot, eyes darting back down to Jin's hair.

You think you can hear him laughing to himself.

It's confirmed when Jimin waltzes into the room, clipboard in hand and asks, "What's got you giggling, Kook?"

He lies, and says he's thinking about his dog, Bam, just to save you from embarrassment.

You glance back up to where his eyes are already waiting for yours, brows lifted as he smirks. You make vague shapes with your mouth as if you're telling him to 'fuck off,' which only serves to make him laugh again, a little harder this time. He keeps it quiet, shoulders bobbing up and down, his smile magnetic.

It's all in good fun. There's been a running joke for years now that you'll date Jungkook just to piss off Jin.

You already know his make-up artist will twist that moment to her own liking, making up some bullshit about him laughing with her, but it's barely worth your energy.

Beside him, Jimin vies for attention from Yoongi, who looks like he's in need of a good nap.

There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dripping down his neck thanks to his make-up artists failing to grab him a towel. You call for Jimin's attention, and once you have it, you chuck him one of the spare towels over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion, but when you nod towards Yoongi, he understands.

The towel is passed along, a simple 'hm?' from Yoongi to question where it came from. Jimin nods towards you, and Yoongi takes a second to observe what you're doing. You're not looking at him, because quite frankly, he intimidates you.

He never used to.

In fact, you used to get along quite well—but you're vaguely aware of the fact he doesn't approve of nepotism, and knows that the only reason you secured this job is because of Jin.

It makes you feel a little embarrassed. A little ashamed. None of the other boys seem to care, but it puts you on edge with Yoongi. You try extra hard—be extra diligent—with him. He seems to be the one you seek validation from the most, despite him being the one you interact with the least.

In the corner of the room, Taehyung and Namjoon discuss the next song. A change from yesterday's set, they've been switching up songs so that no one really knows what to expect next. Have to keep things fresh. Keep their names trending. Get those streams. Meet industry targets set by suits with no real understanding of what it means to make art.

It's admirable how much they cram into such little time. Masters of their craft, it's an honour to see them work. It's without a doubt that they've earned their success.

You kind of get why Yoongi is hesitant of you. You feel underqualified, as if you haven't worked hard enough to earn the role you've been given—but you have. You have the credentials. Jin opened the door for you, yes, but you're the one who had the key in the first place.

You're distracted by your thoughts when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. The vibration hums just a little bit longer than any of your other app notifications, so you know exactly what it is. Know who it is.

Kind of.

There's a little bit of bashful shame that washes over your features, fearful someone will hear the buzz and recognise its length—not that anyone would notice the soft purr in the back pocket of your jeans, cushioned by your ass. It's just as incognito as the man who's sending you a message is.

Your phone buzzes a few times. Seven, to be precise.

Needy, you think to yourself—but it pleases you. He never fails to disappoint.

Well, rarely. You've been waiting half an hour for a message from him, and it's so bloody typical that it would come through when you're finally busy.

"Positions!" Jimin calls from the corridor, letting the boys know their rest time is up.

Jinyu casts an authoritative eye over the boys, checking to make sure they all look okay before sending them on their way.

"Hair grip," she reminds Jungkook's stylist, who had left a tiny little clip in his fringe. She flusters, embarrassed at missing such a detail, but Jungkook just pulls it from his fringe without much care as he puts his phone back on its wireless charging port.

Namjoon follows suit, reminded that his phone was in his back pocket, tossing it on one of the dressing room tables. Yoongi tucks his phone into a bag by the sofa, and Tae does the same.

They file out in good spirits, hyping one another up for the final part of the show, staff patting their backs and cheering on words of encouragement. It's always bittersweet for them; their final performances are their favourites, but they're also the ones in which they know they'll be saying farewell—and no one likes goodbyes.

You watch with fondness as the stage-cam plays on the TV in the corner of the room. There's something about the five of them together, on stage, surrounded by an ocean of unadulterated love and affection, that feels like watching magic. It's the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. You're thankful you get to witness it in all its glory. You'll probably watch the final few songs from the side of the stage, just to feel even an ounce of what the boys do.

Sinking back into the sofa, the scent of hot, sweaty men clouding the air, you pull your phone from your pocket—and sure enough, you're met with the notifications you've been hoping for.

New Secret from D4m0cl3s D4m0cl3s: late shift tonight, sorry one of the girls on my team made a joke about how tense i seem to be said i need to get laid... i told her she needs to mind her own fucking business but... it also got me thinking about you i finish in an hour give me a reason not to go out and get laid

You smile, as the heat that pricked at your skin when Jungkook caught your eye earlier that evening returns.

Part of you toys with the idea of 'what if it's him?' His phone is face down on its charger, all of his secrets hidden from the world.

Part of you hopes it is, just for the knowledge of it irritating the fuck out of Jin and the girls who are sat in the corner, gossiping about his giggling earlier.

Realistically, you know it's not. It's impossible.

You've been sent enough pictures from your Damocles boy of his hands doing unthinkable things to know it can't be Jungkook. They're free of ink, pristine and pale, a little pink in their tone, and the only clue you have of who the fuck you spend so much time talking to.

"Where are you off to now?!" Jinyu asks as you head for the door, somehow surprised that you're dipping again.

"Catering," you lie, knowing full well you're going to find somewhere private enough to give your Damocles boy exactly what he's after.

"You'll turn into a blueberry," she warns you. You hold back a laugh, and resist the urge to tell her that what you're actually about to turn into is a clementine.

There are half a dozen doors down the corridor, but you slide into the first storage cupboard you come across. It's empty, and there's a lock on it, which is all you really need.

If you'd have stayed in the dressing room, it would have been a tomato you turned into, instead. Your cheeks would flush scarlet red, just like they did when the familiar purr of a Hush notification chimed far too loudly for something that's supposed to be all about keeping secrets.

You'd take a second. Wouldn't want to check your own phone, 'cause then all the girls would know you'd received a message from a hook-up app.

But you're not in the room. Nor is your phone.

And they all hear it regardless.

The girls who gossip pause, wondering if they've all heard the same thing. Jinyu is oblivious, happily married and unaware of what Hush even really is, let alone the vibrate tone.

One, two, three messages ping their way from your phone to his, but you're none the wiser. Haven't got a clue.

It's been three months, and neither one of you has any desire to disclose your identity to the other. You're serving a purpose; fulfilling a need.

Why ruin a good thing?

You aren't 'good', nor opposed to being ruined—but that's neither really here nor there. You've got a system that works, and it would be foolish to change things now.

You return to the dressing room, unaware that your phone isn't the only device within those four walls littered with pictures of your bare chest. In fact, everyone is unaware. It's your own little secret that you don't even realise you're keeping, and one that you intend on taking to the grave.

"No blueberries?" Jinyu asks as you return empty-handed.

"Got distracted," you lie, as you settle back into the sofa, a pleasant air surrounding you. On the screen, the boys are laughing, indulging in the energy of their fans for the final time that evening.

"By?" she presses, curious as to why you're looking all smitten as you watch the screen.

It's got nothing to do with any of them.

Or so you think.

It's actually got a whole lot to do with one of them.

You just don't realise it yet.

And so you simply shrug, and say, "Secret."

"C'mon," Jungkook grins, eyes still swathed by the glow of mobile phone flashlights held up during the encore, even a whole thirty minutes after the show is over. He tugs on your arm, but you remain fixed in place, shaking your head. "We're all going, aren't we?"

The question is addressed to the boys, but he's still looking at you. You wish he wouldn't. Not when he looks like that.

His lips are wet, freshly licked, glistening like his silver lip ring, and his hair is still a little damp around the nape of his neck. There's something about him that looks a lot like magic. It's a wonder you haven't fallen under his spell.

"Uh-huh," Jin nods, tossing back the dregs of his final jack and coke. He's not yet run the rider dry, but it doesn't matter. He'll take the bottle with him, and wherever they end up won't turn them away, for they know he'll buy more – though the bar will likely comp it through. "You can ride with me."

Jungkook's grin widens. He loves it when a plan comes together.

♪ // No Shame - Five Seconds of Summer

"C'mon," Jungkook says again. Is quiet in his tone. Persuasive. "I'll miss you if you're not there."

"Is that supposed to make me feel a certain type of way?" You deadpan. "Try it on one of the makeup girlies. They'll eat it right up."

"Don't wanna try it on one of them," he whines a little, nudging his shoulder against yours. "It's our final show. We're celebrating."

"Your final show," you remind him. "I've got a gig next week. Some European group-"

"Don't care," he says. "You're ours for the night. Come party."

You roll your eyes back so hard it feels like you might have just seen your frontal lobe, but there's a smile on your lips, too. It's nice to feel wanted; appreciated.

The invite isn't extended to the make-up artists, who are busy packing away, hoping that Jungkook's neediness will shift to them instead. It won't, but they can keep dreaming.

"If I come - and it's a strong if - you're paying," you bargain.

All you really want is to get home as quickly as you possibly can. Had even considered ordering a taxi before the boys had finished their set, but knew Jimin would have a field day with that one. Might even dock your pay just to be a little git.

You've a date with your phone, but the draw of real life is just too tempting.

It's difficult, because you know that you should want to go out, want to celebrate the fact you can actually go out now that the shows are done... but a random dude sending dick pics somehow seems to be more appealing.

It's tragic, really. Something that you never wanna have to explain. You think you'd rather die. Are shameful of your shamelessness. Ironic.

And right on time, a buzz in your back pocket rumbles through you like a crack of lightning; burns your cheeks a pretty posy pink.

Jungkook's ignorance of your reaction is a blessing. You're not sure how you would've explained it away - though knowing Jungkook, he'd have used your blush to wind Jin up. Attribute it to himself. Play into the idea of you hooking up with him.

It's not like you've never considered it – but lately, it's been hard to 'consider' anyone other than your Damocles boy.

You're reminded of him now – his thick, pink knuckles, and his notably thicker, marginally less pink cock- and how he said that someone on his team told him he needed to get laid. You can't help but think the same for yourself.

It's not healthy, the way you're so drawn to the excitement a few pixels can give you. Is stopping you from living your real life.

There's an unease in your stomach; guilt, almost.

So you groan, knock your head back, and concede. "Fine!"

"Attagirl!" Jungkook beams as he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time and pushing it back into his jeans again. He reaches over for his bag, the scent of his aftershave catching you off guard. There's something about him... Something you know you should ignore, but are finding harder and harder to do so with each and every passing day. "We good to go?"

"Who else is coming?" You hum, heading to the coat rack to pick up your jacket. Tae is leaning against the door frame, shaking his head.

"Not me. Got a date with my bed," he says, ending his sentence with a yawn. He covers it with the back of his hand, but it's so loud you almost find yourself yawning too.

"Pussy," Jungkook scoffs. "Final show and-"

"Me either," Yoongi says as he walks past, not looking in your direction. The jacket that hangs around his broad shoulders is dark, just like his mood always seems these days.

You're not exactly sure when he decided that you weren't worthy of his time, but you're used to it now. Sucks, but such is life. He's always been a little like this, but it's your first time being on the receiving end of his coldness.

"Hot date with your bed?" You tease, hoping to get a little bit of warmth from him.

As he reaches the door, it surprises you both when he turns to look at you. There's a stillness to him; the slow evaporation of cloudy breaths in sub-zero temperatures. His eyes meet yours, and drop down your body. Pause when they land on your palms, and the phone that's being held in them.

His gaze returns to your eyes, fast quicker this time, and then he shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."

He doesn't wait for a reply. You don't intend on giving him one, either.

"And then there were 5," Jungkook sighs. "Fuck it, let's go."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic

There's something sordid about the place you're in. Could be the neon lights on the walls, could be the walls lined with stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records. Could be the birdcages where lampshades should be, or it could be the worn-out leather sofas you're on in the corner of the room. Could be the punters, and how they're all wrapped in their own personal brand of sin, too busy to notice the living legends walking amongst them.

Truthfully, it's why the boys like places like this. They become one with the shadows. Can hide. Do things in secret that other people do in public. It's not like they're actively looking for trouble, but they can't help but seem to find it. Whether it be women, drugs, booze, it doesn't matter – they've each got a kryptonite.

Regretfully, you know Jin's: women who are no good for him. Blonde, brunette, foreign, local, he doesn't give a shit. All that matters is they know who he is, and they want him in inexplicable ways.

Credit where it's due, they all have conviction. All get exactly what they want – but he's easy. Sluts himself out for the fun of it; for the novelty of being a 'rockstar'.

It's gotten worse since their last big award show win. He's getting careless. Has never been one to hand out NDAs, but the kind of people he's attracting now really should have gag orders – issue is, Jin's always far more focused on finding out how sensitive their gag reflex is.

Namjoon's is his inability to say 'no'. Afterparty? He's there. Toke on a joint that has no business being in the hands of such a high-profile man? Go on, then. An upper before a show? Don't mind if I do.

It's a disaster waiting to happen. Anywhere else and you wouldn't worry. In the States, it'd be a non-issue. Expected, even.

The laws aren't so forgiving, here. One bad decision and that's it. Jail time. But sir, I'm a rockstar, pwetty pwease let me go, won't work on a court judge, and even if it did, the court of public opinion and trial by social media would run him into the ground regardless.

Unfair? You think so, yes. Just how life goes? Also yes.

Though they all push the limits to a certain extent, it's Jungkook that's the biggest risk of all. He's the youngest. Got girls lining around the block just to have a look at him. Is bad in a way that girls convince themselves is good. I can fix him. All starry-eyed and sex appeal, there's nothing innocent about him. Nothing.

S'why you know better than to indulge in his flirt – because that's all it ever is. A limit to push. A boundary to break. A challenge he wants to win.

In quite the contrast, Taehyung keeps his boundaries watertight. Doesn't stray, doesn't overindulge. Goes home to a partner who'd give him the world, if he asked – but he won't. See, Kim Taehyung already has the world. Not his career (though it could be argued), not his money, not his fame. They're perks, sure – but his world waits up for him with his favourite snacks on the kitchen counter, ready to hear all about the show.

It's only the close circle that knows. The make-up girls don't have a clue. Jinyu is well aware, but not because it's ever been discussed. She just knows. Is intuitive, like that. Probably knows more about the boys' business than even Jimin does – and it's his job to know their business.

Though the boys would argue that Yoongi has no weakness, you believe otherwise.

His Achilles heal is found in his solitude. His laissez-faire attitude to the world around him stunts his enjoyment of it, you think. He's never gonna be in his twenties in the biggest band in the world ever again. These days will pass him by, and he's wasting them.

If he were to know you felt this way, he wouldn't dignify you with a response; he'd just show up to even fewer events to spite you. Has no interest in your unsolicited opinions of him.

Because you're wrong about his weaknesses.

While yes, his solitude exacerbates them, it's the silence that nurtures his weaknesses: his regrets. His inability to forget. Forgive. Let things go. He fixates, and it frustrates him to the point of fury.

His kryptonite is not how little he cares. Quite contrary. It's how violently he does care. That's what ties his shoelaces together and trips him up. Gives him a bloody nose. Scrapes his knees. Leaves him bloodied and bruised; pink in his pain.

But that's your kryptonite: your cocksure arrogance in thinking you know everything.

Or at least, that's what Yoongi would tell you, if he were ever to get into this debate with you.

He won't.

Again, you'll think it's because he's laissez-faire. That he doesn't care.

Regretfully, you'll be wrong – but he's the one who simmers over regrets, not you.

"Alright, alright!" You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet as you stand up after god-knows how many shots. Namjoon reaches out to steady you. Glances at Jin as if to say, 'kids, eh?'

You're all fucked. Have had far too much, but you figure that's what nights like these are for – who cares? You're celebrating.

Jin just smiles. Rolls his eyes, then averts his attention to the blonde by the bar who's gonna take your seat as soon as you leave.

Jungkook doesn't notice, cause he's too busy laughing at you.

"Just gonna run to the bathroom," you declare, as if they need to know such details. "Need to pee."

"Bathrooms just round the other side of the projector screen," Jimin tells you, nodding in its direction, 'cause even though it's after hours and he's far too heavily intoxicated, he can't help but be resourceful. That's his kryptonite. Can never switch off. "Just up the stairs."

It's not even like you need direction. Have been to this bar more times than you've had hot dinners.

Jungkook laughs. Thinks you're full of shit.

"Your tolerance is going down in your old age," he teases, as if you're not the same age. "Tactical chunders are for the weak."

You tell him to go fuck himself, and he laughs, all hearty and warm. "Gladly."

Their chatter continues without you. The blonde joins, and so does her friend. Someone's getting lucky tonight, and you're pretty sure it'll be all four of them. Thoughts you'd rather not think, honestly.

Teeny tiny is the bathroom. Cramped. A single cubicle is in working order and the hot tap has been broken for as long as you've been visiting this place. It definitely violates some health and safety codes, but who really gives enough of a shit to report it?

Holding your fingers beneath the already running tap, you check the temperature – as if the hot tap even works – and wait for a moment just to be sure. Icy cold, as always.

Lost in the sensation of the water, you forget for a moment why you're there.

While yeah, you could have a drink from the tap, you could have just gotten water at the bar.

Brain all fuzzy, you can't put your finger on it - until your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

And then suddenly, you remember exactly why you're in the bathroom.

11:37PM

D4m0cl3s: fuck, you look so good such a tease i'll be home as soon as i can be been thinking about you all night

11:58PM

i'm home let me know when you're free

00:16AM

you're taking your precious time tonight

00:21AM

what's the deal, huh? tryna get me all frustrated?

00:23AM

it's working

00:39AM

damn maybe that girl on my team was right maybe i should have just gone out and got laid tonight

01:05AM

really? even me being an asshole isn't working? is it compliments you want? you know i'll give you them

01:28AM

okay so i actually am a bit worried now, let me know when you're home safe, m'kay?

Cl3m3ntin3: you know what they say treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen

D4m0cl3s: FINALLY

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, you really are keen aren't you

D4m0cl3s: you were gone so long i was thinking about watching porn PORN you know how long it's been since i watched porn?

Cl3m3ntin3: if my calculations are correct, about 3 months?

D4m0cl3s: ... you're smart, clem but also so mean, my god got me all riled up and kept me waiting HOURS

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry i'm here now and i'm thinking about you, too

D4m0cl3s: are you still out? at work?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh out not at work, tho

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fucking hell, clem your tits look so good come here wanna hold them

Cl3m3ntin3: give me an address and i'll get in a taxi right now we can keep the lights off, never have to see each other keep things anon but i gottaaaa feel your hands on my chest

D4m0cl3s: i wish i could wish i could just fuck you like we both know you deserved to be fucked

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not stopping you

D4m0cl3s: we both know that isn't entirely true

Cl3m3ntin3: do we? give me an address doesn't have to be yours hotel sex is always fun

D4m0cl3s: i have a feeling all sex with you will be fun location is irrelevant

Cl3m3ntin3: well i'm currently in a bathroom stall hiding from my friends just so i can reply to you you reckon a bathroom stall would be fun?

D4m0cl3s: i reckon i love a challenge

Cl3m3ntin3: well i mean i could always send you my current location...

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no.

Cl3m3ntin3: you're your own worst cock block, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: it's called deprivation, baby yanno, kind of like what you did when you kept me waiting for hours gonna make you want me so badly it hurts

Cl3m3ntin3: i already do which is why you should come and put me out of my misery

D4m0cl3s: you're with your friends, you're fine ;) actually you drinking?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little

D4m0cl3s: a little?

Cl3m3ntin3: ...a lottle?

D4m0cl3s: the fact you just said lottle tells me all i need to know lmao you know the drill, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: :((((( noooooo

D4m0cl3s: stop pouting

Cl3m3ntin3: i can't :(((

D4m0cl3s: you can i meant what i said about no drunk messages only want you doing this when your head is clear

Cl3m3ntin3: my head is clear and my head thinks you should stop thinking with yours actually start thinking with your dick instead :)

D4m0cl3s: fine then let's see how clear your head is send me a video of you walking in a straight line

Cl3m3ntin3: you just wanna see my feet perv

D4m0cl3s: video

Cl3m3ntin3: fineeee, fucking fine!

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: oh yeah fuck that clem, you're pissed as a fart hahaha i'm not even sure you tried to walk in a straight line, you wobbly mess cute laugh tho get some water in you go back to your friends we can talk in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: but i wanna talk now :( missed u today

D4m0cl3s: missed u too will miss you tonight but i'll wait

Cl3m3ntin3: :( whyyy do you have to be so good all the time :(

D4m0cl3s: because we both know that the second you send me a picture of your perfect little pussy, i won't be good

Cl3m3ntin3: now?

D4m0cl3s: no, baby in the morning, okay? drink some water.

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh :((

D4m0cl3s: don't you'll make me feel bad just get yourself home and to bed and you can wake up to this tomorrow...

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: BRB, sprinting home

D4m0cl3s: shut up idiot enjoy your night lemme know when ur home

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :( sweet dreams, damocles boy x

D4m0cl3s: speak soon, clemmie x

D4m0cl3s is offline

08:58AM

D4m0cl3s: morning clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: hereee he is was wondering when you'd be up

D4m0cl3s: been up ages was wondering if today would finally be the day you message me first ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: why would i ever do that? we both know you can't bear to be away from this chat thread for more than a few hours

D4m0cl3s: your ego never fails to amaze me

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a product of your creation, damocles boy you told me last week that i'm the only thing that gets you hard these days and you expect me not to get an ego?

D4m0cl3s: hope you know that when i actually get to fuck you, there's no room in my bed for your ego

Cl3m3ntin3: oh bite me you're gonna be putty in my hands

D4m0cl3s: i'm really gonna have to fuck the ego out of you, aren't i? get your little attitude problem in check and biting? you into that?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'd like to see you try like i said, this is aaaaall your fault if you can't control yourself over a message thread, how the fuck will you cope when I'm in front of you? and pls i'm gonna be the one fucking you it's cute that you think otherwise stupid <33 but cute :)

D4m0cl3s: i literally hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: you gonna hate me when im on my knees between your legs?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i run my tongue up and down that pretty cock of yours?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i wrap my lips around your tip? when i take your hard cock in my warm, wet mouth?

D4m0cl3s: yep and yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i take you so deep my eyes start watering?

D4m0cl3s: uh-huh

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a tough bargainer :(

D4m0cl3s: just means im gonna fuck you like i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: no you're not :) you're gonna be soooo shy so timid so scared of fucking up because of how badly you want me

D4m0cl3s: the way you're gonna eat your fucking words actually makes me laugh

Cl3m3ntin3: i wanna hear your laugh

D4m0cl3s: you can hear it when you finally fuck me

Cl3m3ntin3: i could have fucked you last night you said no <//3

D4m0cl3s: incorrect i said not when you're drunk

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a good fuck when im drunk

D4m0cl3s: i'm pretty sure you're a good fuck regardless of your blood alcohol concentration i've seen how you fuck your toys i know you're a good fuck

Cl3m3ntin3: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just like that fuck that's it, baby i like that toy what is it? glass? always looks so good when you sink it into your pussy so so wet, fucking hell

Cl3m3ntin3: glass, uh-huh you should get one for yourself

D4m0cl3s: myself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yourself

D4m0cl3s: i'm not sure that's my kinda thing, clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: only one way to find out plus i remember how hard you came that time i got you to play with your ass a little

D4m0cl3s: shut up omg

Cl3m3ntin3: seeeeee, i'm totally gonna be the one doing the fucking :D

D4m0cl3s: you're not touching my ass

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna eat it :)

D4m0cl3s: you're gonna do no such thing

Cl3m3ntin3: hehe okay whatever you say :D can't wait to say i told you so when you're face down ass up whining about how good my tongue feels :D

D4m0cl3s: and this is exactly why you need the ego fucked out of you never gonna happen

Cl3m3ntin3: you'll be begging for it one day but fineeeee, if u say so tell me how you'd do it, then? how would you fuck the ego (that you gave me!!!) outta me? tell me how you'd ruin me, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: show me your pussy first let me look at how wet you are right now

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: god, look at you if this is how wet you get thinking about eating my ass... we can put it on the maybe list but you'd be on your back, like you are now exactly like that, perfect and spread for me i'd start with my fingers

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

these two i'll push them into you so slowly that you'll be begging for more you'll be all whiney (so no change to normal lmao) but i'll curl them a little, just like you said you like it, and use my thumb to toy with your clit

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fuck i love it when you send videos i could watch that forever literal cinema the way your pussy leaks for me, christ i wouldn't be able to watch your pussy leak like that without licking it up i'd keep my thumb on your clit, gently circling it as my tongue began to toy with your entrance you'd be so leaky on my tongue wouldn't you? so so fuckin' wet for me

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

it's mutual, just so you know

Cl3m3ntin3: god i fucking love it when your tip gets all wet like that you are soooooo needy you wanna fuck me soooooo bad he he i stay winning!!!

D4m0cl3s: CLEM. CONTROL. YOUR. EGO!!

Cl3m3ntin3: FUCK. IT. OUT. OF. ME!!!!

D4m0cl3s: your ego is so big i think i'll just have to fuck you for hours at this point :/

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no :( such a shame !!! :(

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just imagine this stretching your tight little pussy open my cock is so much bigger than that dildo

Cl3m3ntin3: can't wait to feel you inside me i know it's gonna hurt but in like... the best possible way you're so big and thick such a nice cock ♡♡

D4m0cl3s: i'll go slow with you baby ease you into it

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: you've got me soooo wet i think it'll be easy to push into me fill me up

D4m0cl3s: my needy girl look at you my cock belongs inside you your pussy already belongs to me

Cl3m3ntin3: come and claim it

D4m0cl3s: you're making it harder and harder to say no fuck im close

Cl3m3ntin3: same i wanna watch you cum

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i'll call? we can finish together?

Cl3m3ntin3: please

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (03 minutes : 14 seconds)

Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: nice work

D4m0cl3s: pleasure doing business

Cl3m3ntin3: as always i totally heard that little giggle tho ;)

D4m0cl3s: fuck off what giggle

Cl3m3ntin3: the one you did after you came all over your tummy :)♡♡

D4m0cl3s: never giggled in my life ever

Cl3m3ntin3: liar x

D4m0cl3s: i only laughed cause you did too >:(

Cl3m3ntin3: and i only laughed cause of how hard you made me cum you've got a gift, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: and you've got the nicest pussy i've ever seen in my whole entire life

Cl3m3ntin3: you have to use a dating app to get your rocks off deffo a virgin :/ never seen a pussy before in your life :/ not much competition to compare me to, is there? :/

D4m0cl3s: i really do mean it when i say i hate you :) x

Cl3m3ntin3: i know you do babe

D4m0cl3s: wish we were never matched, actually

Cl3m3ntin3: same might just block you actually

D4m0cl3s: PLEASE put me out of my misery

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :D bye forever :D

D4m0cl3s: wait no don't :(

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a bloody seesaw boy always up and down either hate me or love me make up your mind !!

D4m0cl3s: lmao you've no idea but where's the fun in that? i like keeping you on your toes

Cl3m3ntin3: true i gotta run tho got a date with a real boy seeyaaaa x

D4m0cl3s: wooooah wait wait a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah with someone in like.. real life... problem?

D4m0cl3s: no problem just surprised that's all

Cl3m3ntin3: that someone would want to date me?

D4m0cl3s: no that you'd want to date someone else

Cl3m3ntin3: breaking news: girl in her early twenties wants more than nudes from a stranger on the internet

D4m0cl3s: fair enough probably shouldn't continue this, then a heads up would have been nice

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna stop?

D4m0cl3s: no no, i really don't, clem but you're right you do deserve more

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah i do

D4m0cl3s: i actually hate this wtf like i know you can do what you like and i can do what i like but i thought we had something good going?

Cl3m3ntin3: we do thank god i'm just lying about a date for attention :) <3

D4m0cl3s: what the fuck clem

Cl3m3ntin3: made you shit your pants didn't i

D4m0cl3s: CLEM.

Cl3m3ntin3: DAMOCLES BOY.

D4m0cl3s: so you're not going on a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: no you idiot you think i have enough time to be meeting new people when i spend all my free time sending you nudes? was just fucking with you wanted to see if you cared

D4m0cl3s: you could have just asked

Cl3m3ntin3: you'd have told me you hate me

D4m0cl3s: BECAUSE I DO you're actually mental

Cl3m3ntin3: he he u luv it

D4m0cl3s: i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: do basically started crying when you thought someone else might take your place

D4m0cl3s: you didn't even give me a chance to clean myself up you fucking menace !! just made me cum and then did a 180 what did you expect me to do?! you know how sad my dick looks right now?

Cl3m3ntin3: no show me

D4m0cl3s: get fucked you little cretin

Cl3m3ntin3: let me see your sad cock :(

D4m0cl3s: you're never seeing it again you don't deserve it after that little stunt

Cl3m3ntin3: so... ill see it tonight?

D4m0cl3s: .... .......... ............... probably now fuck off i've got a day to get on with might even go on a date

Cl3m3ntin3: no you won't :D

D4m0cl3s: i hate you x

Cl3m3ntin3: denial x

D4m0cl3s is offline

"Jesus Christ," you say, tone full of surprise when you walk into your living room. It's just gone midday, and you've finally risen from your hangover pit of despair.

Following the conversation with your Damocles boy, you had decided a nap was in order, but it only served to make your headache even worse. Turns out, the orgasm had just been a temporary solution. You need paracetemol, and you need it now.

"Jimin, actually," an equally hungover mess groans from your sofa. He's bundled in blankets, a pouty chin hooked over the armrest to look at you with puppy dog eyes. His expression screams 'water pls'.

"And Jungkook," a second voice whines from behind the sofa. A hand rises from the direction of the voice, covered in thick black inkings, before falling with a thud.

Your lips hang ajar as you look at them both, far more confused than you should be. When you glance over to the kitchen counter, you're greeted with the sight of what must have been a rager. There are bottles everywhere - mainly soju and beer - and there's a sticky sheen pooling around their bases. A packet of crisps is open on the hob, but most of the actual crisps are scattered on the floor. You're willing to bet good money on Jungkook being responsible for those.

"The fuck happened last night?" You ask, though you're able to pick up enough context clues from the photobooth pictures that are on your fridge door. They're stuck in place with washi tape, of which you don't remember buying.

"You didn't buy it," Jungkook says when you ask about it. "Stole it from the photobooth place. Little klepto."

"Brilliant," you grimace. The last thing you need is a scandal going around about Kim Seokjin's troublesome younger sister and her thieving ways. The media love a scandal, and Jin has been able to avoid them for the most part. "Joon and Jin?"

"Headed home before us," Jimin tells you. "Really don't remember a thing, do you?"

The last thing you remember is messaging your Damocles boy in the bathroom stall. You don't even really remember how the conversation ended. The rest of the night? Never happened, in your mind.

Still reeling, the day wastes away from you all.

It's spent huddled up on your sofa, Jungkook's Spotify connected to your speaker, as you try and decipher exactly what happened the night before. It's like you're the cast of a shitty Hollywood movie from 10 years ago - nothing makes sense, but it also kind of all does. Jungkook's got the least patchy memories. Remembers how you got home, at least.

There's only one thing he doesn't mention - partially because it happened this morning, not last night, but also because he wants to spare your dignity.

He's a light sleeper. Especially the mornings after a few too many drinks. As soon as the alcohol flushes his body, he has to get up, get water, go to the bathroom. Set his world to rights. This morning had been no exception.

Just a shame he happened to wake a mere matter of moments before your Damocles boy had called you.

No words had been spoken, no conversation took place - but with your phone angled awkwardly for prime shots of your most intimate areas, you had moaned a little louder than usual to make sure the mic picked it up.

And so Jungkook had heard it all - and had recognised the click of a Hush call coming to an end. He's had more than enough himself to know the tone by now.

Watching on as you laugh with Jimin about something nonsensical, mid-afternoon sun pouring through the cracks in your curtains, Jungkook is curious.

You don't notice the way he's studying you, nibbling on his lip ring as he does so.

The running joke between the pair of you about dating to piss off Jin has always been exactly that - a joke - but the idea of you dating someone else in the industry makes him feel a little... off.

He doesn't question it, though. Doesn't really know what to make of it. Doesn't like it, mind you.

As the evening begins to draw in, Jimin leaves first, with Jungkook set to follow suit half an hour later. He tells you he'll leave at 6, but he's still on your sofa when it hits 7:05PM.

"There's something about you lately," he says, scheming, dark eyes narrow. You narrow yours back right back.

"How so?"

"Dunno," he smiles. He wants to ask who you're fucking about with, but it seems too forward. You're close, and have been for years, but not as close as you used to be. His fault, really. He's the one who ditched you when he started dating some songwriter a few years back. "You just seem... preoccupied. What's going on with you, fizz?"

The nickname is so natural that it rolls off Jungkook's tongue as if he hadn't stopped calling you it around the same time he got that girlfriend. She didn't last long, but the slight chill to your friendship had.

"Haven't heard that in a while," you smile right back, as you take a sip on the fizzy orangade that you adore so much it had become a bloody nickname.

"Still suits you," he says, and he's right. Fizzy by name, fizzy by nature. "So you gonna tell me?"

You're not really sure what he wants you to say, so just shrug. "I'm fine, buddy. Are you okay?"

"I'm cool," he nods, aware of the fact you definitely don't want to talk about whatever it is going on with you - so he changes topic. "Nervous about tour, if I'm being honest. You're coming, right? Been contracted on?"

"Uh-huh," you nod. "For the European leg, at least. They haven't sent out contracts yet for the US leg."

"You'll be on it," he says with absolute certainty. He can't see any reason why you wouldn't be. They all like having you around. It's nice having a familiar face backstage. Nice having a friend.

"Hopefully," you agree, very aware that your job is incredibly sought after. You're not the only nepotism baby around, and know that the US leg will be a lot more... political, as it were. Record label execs will all be fighting for attention from the boys, and that could mean putting overqualified suits in job positions like yours, just for a little bit of Scout exposure.

"You really think they're gonna kick you off the roster?" he smiles, nudging you with his foot from across the sofa. "We'd all riot. Even Yoongi."

Now that is something you doubt.

"He'd probably be leading the counter-riot to have me kicked off," you roll your eyes.

"He's just pissy that he can't be annoyed with you," Jungkook laughs. "He wants to hate how you got hired, but he knows you're good at what you do. Knows that you'd have got the job with or without your bloodline."

"Or," you counter. "He really does just hate me."

Jungkook shakes his head. He's noticed Yoongi's coldness recently, too. Puts it down to stress from touring so intensely. Things were definitely different than they used to be - not necessarily any better, nor worse. Just different.

"It's understandable," Jungkook taunts you. "You are pretty unbearable."

He catches your foot as you go to kick him, surprised by how strong your legs actually are - but you're no match for his upper body strength. Not even when you try and use your other leg, as well.

"Some boys actually enjoy my company," you protest, still struggling a little.

"Uh-huh," Jungkook nods, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are sparkling in the same way they did after last night's concert. He's just messing, flirting with you for the fun of it, but he knows he shouldn't. Knows he's only doing it cause he knows you're talking to someone else. He's lost your affections before, and while you're just friends, he still doesn't like the idea of it happening again. He likes being number one. Likes being top of the food chain. "Sure they do."

He thinks he has the upper hand here, but he hasn't realised you've stopped fighting against his grip. You're gentle in the way you move your legs, lowering them just a little until they're on his lap. He lets them be. Pays no notice to the fact he's not entirely soft beneath his sweats.

You ignore it, too. Kind of. Press down a little, just to let him know you know. He doesn't react. Just cocks one of his brows, as if to say, 'so?'

And then he figures that throwing caution to the wind is the best option here. He doesn't want to let things get out of hand, and he's sure you don't either.

"So are you gonna tell me about your Hush boy now or later?"

The way your jaw drops is almost comical. The pressure of your feet eases, and Jungkook is sad to lose it, but he doesn't resist as you pull your legs up to your chest in panic. He's still got that cocksure grin on his face, amused by your reaction.

"What?" He smirks, reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His legs spread a little, and the bulge is even more noticeable. He's doing it to fuck with you, now. You don't even look in its direction, but he still has the nerve to say, "Eyes up here, fizz."

"My eyes are up," you almost gasp. "And so are you, apparently."

Jungkook knocks his head to the side, and scrunches his nose a little. Being called out for it makes him a little awkward, even when he's the most confident guy you've ever known.

"I'm just hungover-"

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, before reciting the same bullshit he always says. "I'm always more horny when I'm hungover."

The way you say it is so whiney that Jungkook can't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that you prick - and stop deflecting. I heard you this morning. Sounds like I'm not the only one who suffers from horny hangovers."

It's about now that your face blossoms with the most delightful shade of red. Your cheeks are hot, and Jungkook can see how mortified you are. He finds it fucking hilarious.

"You didn't."

"Oh," he sings. "But I did."

"I'm gonna throw up," you grimace. Flirting with Jungkook is all well and good, but the idea of him hearing you get yourself off is shameful. Truly horrific.

"You didn't remember that me and Jimin had crashed here, did you?" He teases, knowing that you'd have never done it had you known they were in the next room over - or maybe you would have done. You just would have been a little more discreet.

"Didn't have a clue," you confirm, before burying your head in a sofa cushion. This is probably the most tragic conversation you've ever had with Jungkook.

He just laughs. Finds it hilarious.

"You didn't hear anything," you tell him. "Forget it ever happened."

"Was kinda hot," he shrugs - but fails to tell you that his current semi isn't the first time he's been hard in your apartment today. "Doesn't answer my question, though. Who's your Hush guy?"

Your face screws up like a paper napkin. This is not a conversation you want to be having, nor one you thought you'd be having a few minutes ago when your feet were on his cock.

In fact, your eyes are still closed, face all cute and regretful when you say, "How the fuck am I supposed to know? Doesn't that defeat the object of Hush?"

Jungkook laughs. "Give over. Who is he?"

"I'm being serious," you say, and notice the way Jungkook's smile shifts. He looks a little concerned, now, brows hard. "I don't know."

"Fizz," he says, too shocked to address you by anything but a dumb nickname. His brows are furrowed, and it's his jaw gaping now, not yours. "How do you not know?"

And now you're confused, because you thought that anonymity was the whole point of Hush.

"We just... never disclosed it, I guess?"

"So, what?" Jungkook's tone changes. It sounds like he's accusing you now, berating you a little. You both look as bewildered as one another. "You just matched with some dude this morning and got straight to it?"

That's the only plausibility, Jungkook thinks.

He knows Hush, knows what it's like, but knows that the stakes are too high to keep the anon act up. If he isn't comfortable enough to share his identity within a day or two, he unmatches.

Sure, he's gotten himself in pretty risky conversations straight off the bat before, and has had his fair share of casual encounters thanks to the app - but he doesn't love the idea of you doing it, too. It's because he knows that he doesn't care for the girls he uses in those situations, and dislikes the idea of someone else using you like that.

"No?" You reply, a little offended. "We've been talking for like... a few months?"

Jungkook almost shrieks. "A few months?! And you don't know who he is?!"

You stay silent for a moment. You're reflecting his confusion back at him. He can't understand for the life of him why you don't see a problem with this - but you haven't worked your way through the Hush circles like he has. Your Damocles boy has been the only person you've ever given the time of day on there.

"That's the whole point?" You say, but it's really a question because you can't understand why he's so horrified.

"He could be anyone," Jungkook whispers, as if he's trying to keep your secret for you. "Anyone!"

"He's alright," you promise. "He's nice."

"You don't even know his name!"

"I'm pretty sure you can only name a handful of the girls you've fucked in the last couple of years," you scoff at his hypocrisy.

Jungkook got eyes like a hopeless romantic, all shiny and bright. People don't seem to realise such appeal affords him endless opportunities for casual encounters - of which he thinks it would be rude to turn down. Or at least that's what he tells you.

Realistically, you know he just likes fucking about.

"That's not the point here, fizz, and you know it," he scolds.

"Who I may or may not send nudes to is really none of your concern, Jungkook," you tell him.

"I know that," he insists. "But if this has been going on for months..."

"Then it's still none of your concern."

He holds up his hands, eyes wide. He's waving a white flag, even if he thinks you're a walking, talking red one. "I'm not attacking you, here. I just think you need to be careful."

"I'm fine," you tell him softly, and he's pleased when you smile at him in that fond way he's so used to. It feels a lot safer than the confusion on your face a moment ago. You know his concern comes from a good place. "It's just what works for us. It's as much my choice as it is his."

Jungkook nods, and lets it go, but not before warning you, "I'm not the only one of the guys on there. Tae and Jin, we both know they're not, but the rest of them? I dread to think of what Jin would do if he found out Joon was phone fucking his little sister."

You laugh now. Really laugh.

"I'm not kidding!" Jungkook protests.

"I'd recognise any of you in an instant," you tell him, and you really believe it.

You have no doubt in your mind that you'd be able to sense any of them off from miles away. They're too familiar.

"I fucking hope so," he laughs, and while you're laughing too, you feel a little uneasy.

Maybe he has a point. Maybe you do need to dig a little deeper.

But as Jungkook leaves, and you check your phone only to find a new message waiting from your Damocles boy, you can't help but feel a little out of your depth already.

21:43PM

D4m0cl3s: whyyyy am i so obsessed with u

22:10PM

leaving me on read? that's a new one (plus will probably only make me a little more obsessed (something about toxic girls that just really gets to me))

22:32PM

i lied i don't like toxic girls pls don't ignore me clem :(

Cl3m3ntin3: hey sorry was just a little busy

D4m0cl3s: it's cool you okay?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah, im all good you?

D4m0cl3s: im okay you seem a little... i dunno. off?

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i'm fine really

D4m0cl3s: yanno, you say one thing but the way you're writing sends a whole entire different message it's v confusing, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i don't mean to be im all good, honest

D4m0cl3s: stop saying sorry

22:54PM

clem whats up you're never like this, you got me worried

Cl3m3ntin3: you sat at home worrying over a girl you can't even imagine?

D4m0cl3s: wdym?

Cl3m3ntin3: it's not like you can picture me not like you can think of my face so what are you thinking about when you're worrying? some pixels? your phone?

D4m0cl3s: right. where has all this come from? please know my face is very confused right now so whatever you imagine when you think of me - 'cause let's remember that you don't have a fuckin' clue what i look like either - add a little confusion to it that should do the job.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna add a little anger to it 'cause you seem pissed off

D4m0cl3s: well, yeah? i kind of am i don't get why you're, like, attacking me? like im the only one keeping a secret? it's you and me both, clem.

00:06AM

you can't just ignore me whenever i say something you don't like

Cl3m3ntin3: no? i think i can. goes with the territory of you not knowing who the fuck i am. no repercussions.

D4m0cl3s: where the fuck has all this come from? were we not good this morning?

00:13AM

and there you go again, leaving me on read.

Cl3m3ntin3: don't act like you actually give a fuck been 3 months if you cared, surely i'd know who you are by now?

D4m0cl3s: pot, kettle, black, clem it's a two-way street and fuck you if i didn't care, i'd just be leaving your shitty attitude on read, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: how can you care about someone you don't know? really? how can you?

D4m0cl3s: are you telling me you don't care about me?

00:17AM

if this is you leaving me on read again then you can go fuck yourself. like literally just unmatch me.

Cl3m3ntin3: im not leaving you on read im trying to figure out what the fuck i want to say just give me a moment, okay?

D4m0cl3s: m'kay.

Cl3m3ntin3: i care that's, like the most important thing here. i really care. i just i had someone irl questioning me about you today and it kind of left me stumped. why don't you want to know who i am?

D4m0cl3s: i kinda hate that an outsider has swayed your opinion on me so much don't get me wrong, i love that your friends care about you just hate that it makes you think i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: that's not an answer

D4m0cl3s: patience is a virtue, clem i was getting there my line of work... i cant commit to anything. it isn't fair. it isn't fair to let someone get invested in me. the moment you know who i am, everything changes it's far easier for you to be detached if i'm just a few pixels if this isn't physical

Cl3m3ntin3: you've spent 3 months getting yourself off to me and me alone that's commitment, isn't it?

D4m0cl3s: that's conditioning, clem you've made everything else so incredibly boring you're the only thing that excites me

Cl3m3ntin3: and yet...

D4m0cl3s: and yet. clem, we both know the second this becomes more than what it already is, there's no taking it back. i don't wanna lose this don't wanna lose you.

Cl3m3ntin3: i think it's really sad that you think being honest will result in losing me

D4m0cl3s: just how the cookie crumbles, clem i've seen it happen with my friends you were right when you said you deserve more than dick pics from some rando on the internet but even if you knew who i was, that's all i'd be able to give you i like you too much to cope with knowing how disappointed you'd be by the outcome of my grand reveal a few pixels can only disappoint you so much a real, tangible human? so much more.

Cl3m3ntin3: just a rando on the internet who sends me dick pics and yet you've got me feeling all kinds of fucked up

D4m0cl3s: it's mutual, if it helps really did mean it when i said i was obsessed with u earlier and for the record i don't really imagine a person when i think of you more of like.. i dunno. an aura? i guess. peachy. orange. a little green. very clementine inspired maybe that's it maybe i imagine clementines my teeny tiny clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: you make my heart hurt

D4m0cl3s: you make my heart hurt, too

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry for... like going off at you

D4m0cl3s: it's cool kind of nice to see this side of you, i guess ur ego isn't always big shock

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no it is this is all the result of a bruised ego was very offended that you didn't wanna know i am i'll have you know one of my friends got a semi just looking at me earlier and yet the guy who makes me cum doesn't even wanna know me <///333

D4m0cl3s: firstly lets stop with this nonsense, okay? i would kill to know who you are and as soon as we're both in situations where it's fair i'm booking you a taxi and routing it straight for my place also fuck ur friend (not literally pls)

Cl3m3ntin3: oh? not gonna wine and dine me first? (i wont)

D4m0cl3s: absolutely not first thing im doing is checking to see if your head can fit through doors, you egomaniac

Cl3m3ntin3: and the second thing?

D4m0cl3s: fucking the rest of that ego out of you ♡♡

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead

D4m0cl3s: im not the most romantic of guys

Cl3m3ntin3: i'll pretend im shocked

D4m0cl3s: are we good, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah we're good im sorry for getting so in my head about things don't even know why i got so pissed about you not being able to imagine me when i literally can't imagine you either lmao

D4m0cl3s: what do you think of when you think of me?

Cl3m3ntin3: honestly?

D4m0cl3s: honestly...

Cl3m3ntin3: your cock lmao i wish i could say something cute like your aura, but i'd simply be lying

D4m0cl3s: for fucks sake haha

Cl3m3ntin3: good cock, at least great cock, some would say

D4m0cl3s: some?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah not me i'd say average :)

D4m0cl3s: average? AVERAGE?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah :D

D4m0cl3s: i... do you need reminding or something?

Cl3m3ntin3: no? it's average :) !

D4m0cl3s: the man was too stunned to speak

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe i do need reminding then? could have sworn it was average? maybe even a little smaller?

D4m0cl3s: you are rubbing salt in a wound, miss teeny tiny clementine i've never been more offended

Cl3m3ntin3: hmm... prove me wrong?

D4m0cl3s: i want it on record that i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: sure you do, baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: does this help?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little? not much, though maybe it would help if I had some more context? maybe you should play with it for me a little bit?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3: ooo that's a little better only a little, though maybe more?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: what about now?

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe you should play with your balls a little? for like... spacial awareness?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

yeah, that helps that really helps

D4m0cl3s: still average? or does it look like we both know it does?

Cl3m3ntin3: how do we both know it looks?

D4m0cl3s: like it would ruin your tight little cunt

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, damocles you're really coming for me now, aren't you? what happened to my pretty little pussy you love so much? it's cunt now?

D4m0cl3s: you don't want me playing nice right now you wouldn't be telling me i'm below average if you did you want me fucking you like i have a point to prove

Cl3m3ntin3: and what point would that be?

D4m0cl3s: that once i finally get to fuck your (pretty, perfect, fucking incredible) cunt, it's mine mine, and no one else's especially not that friend of yours who got hard looking at you

Cl3m3ntin3: i spy with my little eye something that begins with J (it ends in 'ealousy', suga) sugar** lmao typo

D4m0cl3s: suga on the brain? you a scouts fan?

Cl3m3ntin3: they're fine not what i want to be thinking of right now, tho

D4m0cl3s: my bad well, no, your bad actually who's your favourite member?

Cl3m3ntin3: shuuuuush time and place, babe also i have an idea

D4m0cl3s: go on?

Cl3m3ntin3: you got a bottle close by?

D4m0cl3s: ermmm like water bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah

D4m0cl3s: i've a chilsung?

Cl3m3ntin3: perfect me too wanna see your hand wrapped around it

D4m0cl3s: .... i have a cock right here and hard for you .... and you wanna see my hand around a bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: just do it baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

oh my fucking god

D4m0cl3s: what?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

oh holy shit why is your hand so small it doesn't even get around the bottle?????!! i'd literally like... eclipse it

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh now wrap your hand around your cock you know the size difference now you know exactly what it'd look like

D4m0cl3s: god i'm gonna fucking destroy you arent i

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh i think so jesus christ i haven't even been touching myself and look at the state of me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

you did this this is all you

D4m0cl3s: all mine i'm never gonna share you god i gotta fuck you

Cl3m3ntin3: we've literally just had a full entire fuck off conversation as to why you cant

D4m0cl3s: im a boy im stupid i cant be trusted to make such decisions let me fuck you please

Cl3m3ntin3: no, baby you know you can't you gotta be patient

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

think of how well you'll be rewarded

D4m0cl3s: no i gotta fuck you i need to i think i might die if i can't

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

so hard that death is the only option

Cl3m3ntin3: the way you hold it around the base always gets me so fucked up all i can think about is the fact it will look just like that when you guide it into me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

reckon im wet enough for you?

D4m0cl3s: i think you're wet enough that i'll never need to drink water again so fucking hot literally how the fuck do you even get that wet

Cl3m3ntin3: wish i could tell you truth is you're the only one who's ever got me like that

D4m0cl3s: fuck don't say shit like that, clem im too close

Cl3m3ntin3: you can cum, baby i wanna see it

D4m0cl3s: can i call? i wanna watch you too

Cl3m3ntin3: yes please pretty please

D4m0cl3s: always so good for me, clem ain't no fuckin' way im ever losing this

Cl3m3ntin3: just call me you sentimental prick ;)

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (01 minute : 37 seconds) Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: im so furious that was a call and not a video you fucking whined WHINED jesus i might cum again just thinking about it

D4m0cl3s: and they say men are easy

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck you, you know you're hot

D4m0cl3s: do i?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah you fucking do give me all this shit for my ego, but jesus christ you know exactly what you do to me

D4m0cl3s: and you know it's mutual the whine... yeah that wasn't intentional you're just??? unreal????

Cl3m3ntin3: probably a good idea that we don't ever fuck i think i'd stop being able to function like a useful member of society would just want to spend all day in bed with you

D4m0cl3s: you say that as we don't spend a fair amount of our free time doing exactly that just... not together but still together kinda i guess? does that make sense?

Cl3m3ntin3: it makes sense i'm sorry about earlier, still

D4m0cl3s: im sorry, too i know that this isn't like... conventional

Cl3m3ntin3: conventional is boring im gonna go get a shower quickly talk later?

D4m0cl3s: talk later miss u already x

D4m0cl3s is offline

BIG HIT ENT OFFICES Yongsan-gu, Seoul

"You can stop avoiding me, yanno," Jungkook mumbles as he comes to stand beside you.

The grey corridors of Big Hit all look the same, but this one's a little different. It's The Scouts stomping ground; space reluctantly given to them after the success of the last album. Told management they needed studios to work in underdisturbed. Three of them. Tae and Jin didn't care for one - are happy doing their own shit in the dingy old practise room in the basement - but Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook all threw tantrums.

Well, less-so trantrums and more-so well put together business plans an ROI graphs for some of the senior bosses. Hoseok was in charge of overseeing it all, and blew far too much budget on it - something of which has bitten them all in the arse, and keeps them tied to their label for longer, but they have freedoms, at least. More than most bands in their field. Oppotunities. Visibility.

At the far end of the corridor, closest to the snack machine, is Jungkook's studio.

There's silence as you watch the packet of chips you just chose drop into the vending chute, with little care for the fact he sounds stroppy. Though you don't look at him, you know he's pouting. Can hear it in his voice.

It's been a few days since he left your apartment and you haven't really spoken since. It's not like it's totally uncommon for you to go a while without chatting, but you are aware that you left a couple memes sent to you on read.

You weren't trying to be a bitch, he just sent them at bad times, and you forgot to reply. Seems as if your lack of consideration has left him overthinking, and you feel a little bad.

You crouch, knees cracking as you do, stuffing your arm into the machine and retrieving your purchases - plural. A packet of chips for you, and banana milk for him. He narrows his eyes as you hold it towards him. You're still crouched, eyes a little wide but impatient.

"Take it or I'll drink it myself, you big baby."

He wants to resist, but he can't. Something just so tempting about banana milk. Gets him every time.

"Was coming to see you, actually," you say as you return to your full posture, knocking your head to the side to indicate you want to walk. He follows your lead like he always does. It explains the banana milk, at least, and makes him feel a little easier. "Just been busy, haven't been avoiding you. Stupid. Anyways, had a meeting today about the next run of shows so thought I'd pop up and say hi before I left."

He hums to let you know he's listening, encouraging you to keep on talking as he reaches the door to his studio. It's pin-protected, so you wait till he's typed in the code to continue - though realistically, you both know you could have just typed it in yourself.

"How'd it go?" He asks, both out of politeness and general curiosity. He's always keen to hear about your life; what's going on with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, entering first and taking a seat in his favourite desk chair as soon as you're inside. You drape your overshirt across the back of it, and ignore the way Jungkook's eyes briefly flitter towards your chest. His gaze doesn't linger, so you don't bother teasing him about it. "All good. Just going over some health and safety stuff."

He pops his banana milk down on the desk. Frowns. Sighs. "Up."

Every single time. Him and his bloody chair.

"But there's another chair right there!" You protest, knowing full well you're in Jungkook's ridiculously overpriced gaming chair, which really has no business being in a music studio - but dear lord if it isn't the comfiest thing you've ever sat on.

"Exactly!" He wails in return. "You, there. Me, here."

The way he gestures his hands makes him look like a flight attendant, all poised and direct, but you don't budge.

"Mhmm-mm," you mumble, trying to eat a chip as Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Me, here. You there!"

"You're gonna get crumbs all over it," he says with such a pout that you can't help but laugh. You know he's got a mini vacuum in his desk drawer precisely for times like these. You know because you're the one who bought it, after the fifth time you'd argued over something as trivial as a few crumbs.

"I won't," you pout right back, then promise, "I'll wipe my fingers."

He's about to say something back, before he realises that you are wiping your fingers - right along the hem of his shirt.

"For fucks sake, you little shit," he moans, wrapping his arm around your head to get you in a headlock. Should have just done this earlier, he thinks. The pair of you struggle for a moment, but he's too bloody strong. You squeal as he drags you off the chair and plonks you down in the spare seat. "Much better."

"You suck," you huff as you kick out at him, but miss as he sits himself down and rolls away with a cheeky little grin on his face.

He's about to reply all rather childishly, but a knock at his door breaks the contact of his eyes on yours.

You're thankful for the interruption. You don't like the way it feels when you look at Jungkook these days. It's a bit... too much.

"Who is it?" Jungkook calls, the frosted glass hiding the intruder, but not really. Even you can make out who it is.

"Yoongi," he calls through, to which Jungkook tells him that he can let himself in. He's one of the chosen few; the secret circle. In all reality, every single one of the boys knows Jungkook's passwords, but he tells himself otherwise. Somehow likes the idea of exclusivity.

"Hey, I- oh," Yoongi begins as he enters the room, stopping as he realises you're there. He's dressed down, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt a fair few sizes too large draped over his shoulders.

Dressed quite a lot like you, actually, though your slacks are fitted and high-waisted, and the white shirt you're in is tight. It clings to your skin, and now that your overshirt is hooked over the back of Jungkook's chair, there's not much hiding your silhouette.

They've both seen you in far less - there's a mutual agreement to never speak of your twenty-third birthday party and the bath debacle - but it's not often you're in anything that doesn't hide you up a little. It's just professionalism, and considering you're mostly around them at work, it makes sense.

But your shirt had ridden up a little from the struggle with Jungkook, and your midriff is distracting for Yoongi, apparently. He stays silent. Looks at you. Looks at Jungkook. Looks at your shirt, which is crumpled by Jungkook. Looks at the mess your hair is in following the headlock. Is unaware of the headlock ever taking place. Adds 2 and 2 and gets 5.

"Didn't realise you had company," Yoongi musters. "My bad."

"Don't mind me," you smile. "I can get gone, if you need time with Jungkook?"

"No, no," Yoongi insists, before turning to focus on Jungkook. The way he cuts the conversation short with you weighs on you. You and Yoongi had never been close, not in the same way you were with Jungkook, but there was a time when you would have been invited along with whatever he needed Jungkook for. Hasn't been that way for a while now, but it still makes you sad. "Just running through that demo you sent over, I've got some notes. I'll be in the studio all evening, so just come by whenever you're... done."

It dawns on you pretty quickly that Yoongi's jumping to conclusions. Your cheeks begin to flame, and you have to stop yourself from awkwardly laughing.

"I'm actually heading off now," you mumble, getting to your feet. The last thing you need is yet another thing for Yoongi to hold against you.

You like to tell yourself it's the whole nepotism thing - and honestly, it's an undeniable part of his disdain for you lately.

But you also know it's something more.

See, there are two things you and Yoongi will never speak of.

The first is your twenty-third birthday party, and the bath debacle that came with it. It was harmless, and he wasn't the only one there - Jimin and Jungkook played their part too - but it's an avoided topic to preserve your dignity more than anything else.

The second thing you will never discuss is the night that never was. The one you both agreed never happened.

When he looks at you, you know he's thinking about it.

But it's your best-kept secret, and you'd quite like to keep it that way, so you make your excuses and leave. Jungkook says bye, and that he'll text later. Yoongi doesn't even really look at you as you leave.

There's a momentum to your heartbeat as you leave the building, your staff pass beeping like a hospital monitor as you go through security. There's a buzz in your back pocket as soon as you're through the doors - not the kind you long for from your Damocles boy, but a just regular kakaotalk message.

When you pull up your phone and see his name, you're surprised, but also a little concerned. You wait until you're at the bus stop to check his messages - and when you do, you wish you never did.

Yoongi (personal): I've said the same to Jungkook as I'm gonna say to you. Think about it from Jin's perspective.

You can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. Of all people, Yoongi has absolutely no right to berate you, nor your choices. He's completely missed the mark of the relationship between you and Jungkook - and he's really in no place to judge. No place at all.

And so you tell him as such.

You: Not really sure what you're getting at But tell me, Yoongi, did you think about it from Jin's perspective?

You know better than to mention the night that never was. Neither of you have spoken about it for months - a full year, almost - but he deserves to think about it if he's going to be a prick. Deserves to remember. Deserves to have it linger.

You watch as your messages are marked as 'read', and then you mute your notifications from him. How he thinks he has any right to police what you do - and who you do it with - infuriates you. Why waste your time, though? He's been nothing but an absolute arse to you over the past couple of months. Nothing will change it.

The frustration in your mind has you wanting to watch the world roll by. You let the bus you usually board roll on by, opting for the longer route instead. It won't come for another few minutes, but it's not so bad out today. The weather is bearable.

It's as you're waiting - a face of thunder and scowl foul enough to rival even Yoongi's on a bad day - that your phone buzzes. The corner of your lips curl. Cheeks turn pink. It vibrates again. And a third time.

So even though you mentally scold yourself for not waiting until you get home, you find yourself unlocking your phone and heading to Hush.

And sure enough, there he is.

D4m0cl3s: working late tonight

The second message is a picture. Has you gasping. It's a pair of dark trousers, unbuckled, zip down, but still in place - pushed open enough for you to see the thick outline of a bulge in white Calvins.

D4m0cl3s: thinking about you x

A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you forget all about your bad mood.

You reply, a grin on your face so large that you think it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead?? ♡♡

He replies instantly.

D4m0cl3s: i'm not trying to romance you, clem i'm trying to seduce you :) is it working? Cl3m3ntin3: no x D4m0cl3s: what about now??

The picture he sends through is obscene. Belongs in the centrefold of a top shelf magazine. Has you fucking drooling, a light whimper escaping your lips. The harsh wind of a taxi storming by reminds you that you're in public. You look over your shoulder to make sure there's no one walking by - not because you don't want to get caught looking at it, but so you can oogle at it for a little bit longer.

His fingers are wrapped around his thick cock, his grip tight. Like, real fucking tight. His foreskin is pulled down, and there's a small pool of thick precum glistening on his tip. It's so minimal, but so central to the photo that you know it's the main focus. He's letting you know just how horny he is, just how ready he is to fuck himself into you - and he's hoping that your pussy will be leaking like that, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm on my way home can you wait for like 20 minutes? D4m0cl3s: i've got all night, clem take your time i'll be waiting for you Cl3m3ntin3: be home soooooon D4m0cl3s: travel safe, clemmie x Cl3m3ntin3: simp.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader

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julieeeeette · 6 months

Text

the one where you and yoongi take your son to the beach

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Word Count: 330

Rating: PG-13

You and Yoongi had taken your son to the beach and played with him all day making sandcastles, running away from the waves as they crashed onto the shore and watched little crabs as they shuffled around. Then, when the fluffy clouds became pastel pinks and purples, the three of you laid in the warm sand and pointed out different shapes until the sky eventually lit on fire.

“Come on, buddy. It’s getting late.” Yoongi smiled as he looked over at his son, who could barely keep his eyes open. Your son held his arms up and allowed him to pick him up and carry him to the car.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Yoongi glanced at him with a soft laugh in the rear view mirror before refocusing on the road and taking your hand.

When you got home, you carried your child inside with Yoongi following you down the hallway to the bedroom full of astronaut figurines, spaceships, and the planets. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms with a soft smile as you laid him down and covered him up, pressing a kiss to his brow before turning on a lamp in the shape of a cartoonish astronaut peering into a softly illuminated moon.

Yoongi admired it for a moment before you stepped up beside him and wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Today was perfect.” He whispered as though your son would wake up even as Holly jumped up into bed beside him and dropped down beside him with a sigh.

“It really was.” You watched your only child sleep for a moment, grateful for how easy it had been to get him down and the calm of your home that settled around you like a warm blanket on a cold night. “Let’s go to bed.”

Yoongi yawned as if on cue and nodded before steering you towards your shared room. “Yes, let’s.”

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kiestrokes · 9 months

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goodsoop's couch and ramen recs: BTS

🗝️note: oh look, it's the list I started before manic deactivating back in march. rip to my og rec tag and all those lovely fics. Sadly, this is only new fics from my tbr and not my full collection 🥲 BUT this is for the fluff, slice of life and sfw readers! personally for the acespec babes who sometimes get icked out by smut.

SEOKJIN

my plus one by @btsgotjams27 🍜This is kicking the blankets, cuddled up on the couch, eating snacks with your girlfriends watching a new elite romcom worthy. I love this Jin so very much.

the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky by @eoieopda 🍜 "Sojin has entered the chat," - when I tell you I screamed in laughter at this cuteness. You really nailed how a Sagittarius remembers the little things too.

YOONGI

the one with yoongi, netflix and zero chill by @eoieopda 🍜 “cum over?” - JADE 😂 omg, why is the embodiment of every casual relationship I have been in. The way that I felt every awkward and soft moment, deep in the crevice of my bones.

Just Between Us by @herecomesjoon 🍜 “I figured he would be safe with the bookshelf.” - Saturn nooo! You should have seen my look of alarm. We cannot trust Joon to build anything. The gathering of little moments in this is my favorite thing ever!

HOSEOK

And on the seventh day... by @moni-logues 🍜 it’s giving lazy Sundays, cuddled up with our own personal sunshine.

We'll Never Have Sex by @eoieopda 🍜 You were already melting into a puddle under that sunshine in his eyes - how this entire fic and your writing made me feel.

NAMJOON

Hungry (For Your Love) by @minisugakoobies 🍜The way that this gives me reversed Spike x Buffy roles, the setting immediately putting me in Sunnydale and with Namjoon of all people 🫠

just like riding a bike by @effortandmore 🍜 Listen...this is like walking through an OST music video, so colorful and whimsical.

JIMIN

pork belly by @yoongiphoria 🍜I love love love this, it's so realistic and Jimin's personality traits were captured beautifully. Have thought about this many times while I was away.

adonis by @xjoonchildx 🍜 if you love Ana’s provocative humor this is a must read, obviously I came for Jimin but I stayed for Mrs. Yun.

TAEHYUNG

Swoon by @minisugakoobies 🍜I'm pretty sure I blacked out after that description of THE Park Jimin dressed as Harley Quinn, and my jaw on the desk at Tony Stark JJK. Please this is every army x comic nerds wet dream.

Maybe by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy 🍜 Elite F2L, unrealized mutual pining and a little angsty, just how I like it.

JUNGKOOK

T-Shirt by @still-with-koo

🍜 “You trying to make me throw up or something?” - LO I laughed so hard at this that my eyes hurt from them crinkling. Oh, I adore this couple and their witty teasing.

#annotations #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fic rec #bts ff recs #bts ffs #skz fanfiction #ksj #myg #jhs #knj #pjm #kth #jjk #sfw #fluff recs #fluff #fluff fic #sfw recs

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ilmyg1221 · 5 months

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Title: Crimson Author: Anna Loveyy --

Everything you know about the story of Snow White is about to get bloodier. Set in the modern times, the classic tale of Snow White isn't what it seems to be. By chance or by pure bad luck, Park Jimin meets the real "Snow White": tangerines, male, and a vampire.

Link: CLICK ME

#min yoongi #park jimin #bangtan #bts #taekook #jin #yoongi #myg #suga of bts #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts yoonmin #bts ff #yoonmin #agust d

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muniimyg · 1 year

Note

Hi Kimi! Saw this and thought of Your Universe!Jungkook 💀 https://twitter.com/starlit_lauren/status/1623911606601252864?s=46&t=4H5NijhQZUFNDEwBvwnKlA

Hope you’re having a great day! 💕

omg meg 😭😭😭 i’m DEAD !!! your universe!jungkook is so unhinged i honestly dunno why he’s like this 🧍🏼‍♀️… i’m going on a trip next week and bro it’s the the way i litteraLY ASKED MY COUSIN TO PLAY MERMAIDS WITH ME WHEN WE GET TO THE RESORT … am… aM EYE your universe!JUNGKOOK? 💀 it’s 2:30AM where i am,, i’ll sleep with a few laughs thanks to your shared tweet 💓 mwaahhh

#ask muni #fic: youniverse myg #💭: yoongukie ff

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thearmyprof · 10 months

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Endless Sea, but the water is warm here Ch. 10

Rating: E

Pairing: Yoongi/Original Character

Word count: 6218

Chapters: 10/?

Genre: Modern Fantasy!AU, Idol!AU, Canon Divergent,

Warnings: NSFW, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

Overview post: https://at.tumblr.com/thearmyprof/endless-sea-but-the-water-is-warm-here/h8ruhjcuzs62

Summary:

Sometimes Eunha imagines herself living by the sea. She imagines herself sinking in sunbaked sand and Mina happily jumping in playful waves. She thinks there might have been a time in her own childhood when she visited the ocean. A time before her first visit to the realm of death. A time when she let the pull of the sun-warmed waters pull suggestively at her ankles. When she collected seashells. A time when she could take a big inhale and smell the salt water mixed with the smell of tide, the smell of life.

But daydreams and memories of oceans and sand always morph and twist eventually. The grey waters that ebb and flow with their own mystical tide, the river as vast as an ocean, are what Eunha knows. That river has no smell. She is well versed in the tugs and pulls of the water, urging her to continue her journey onward, out into that vast expanse of monotone darkness. There are some days where it almost feels easier to give in and let the river’s tide do what it wills.

Life is hard and dark until an accidental meeting on a train and an encounter her vampire landlord's ghoul throws Eunha's world colliding with Min Yoongi's. Does this become a fleeting career opportunity or the chance at a better life?

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45497923

Full Tags:

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Vampires, Fae & Fairies, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, World of Darkness, Necromancy, Blood and Violence, Death, None of the guys though, or our two original main characters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Magic, fae bts, Soft Min Yoongi | Suga, Protective Min Yoongi | Suga, Protective Bangtan Boys | BTS, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex Work, Single parent original female character, Softness, Soulmate!AU kind of, Mafia AU, referenced past traumatic birth (not explicit), soft adopted dad Yoongi vibes, Hospitals, referenced police, no jealousy, good communication, we believe in healthy relationships in this house even if the world is burning down

CHAPTER TEN.

Eunha doubles over her haegeum, resting in her lap, wracked with shivers, as she slips back into her body. Her toes and fingers are numb and she shakes uncontrollably, teeth chattering in her skull. The room is warm, almost hot, she notices vaguely but she barely penetrates past her frozen skin. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing her body to calm down and accept the heat.

“Oh good, you’re back with us,” a man’s voice says from somewhere across the room.

Eunha squints over, body still shaking, to figure out who is here.

Seokjin is standing in the doorway, hand holding onto a mug. His voice may have sounded casual, but the look on his face now is wrinkled in worry.

“I honestly didn’t fully believe you did magic until today,” he says. “I stand corrected.”

Eunha shivers again, body still trying to adjust to being back in the plane of the living. Her hands shake as she tries to settle her haegeum back in its case. Jin brings over a quilt, pale lavender with small yellow stars scattered across in a pattern, like a blanket of stars. The quilt rustles as Jin lays it over Eunha’s shoulders, the fabric whispers as it comes in contact with her skin. He brings the tea and sits cross-legged across from her on the floor.

Eunha sips at the tea, instantly feeling relief from the warmth of the liquid. The quilt is soft and warm, a comforting blanket of safety that envelopes Eunha in its warmth. The mug is heavy and smooth in her hands, solid and reassuring, and she’s happy to note her shaking has diminished. Jin watches her closely, concern etched deep into his features.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Eunha nods, pulling the quilt tighter around herself.

“Yoongi is with his lawyer right now,” Seokjin continues, still softly, staring into the swirl of tea leaves at the bottom of his mug. “There are government officials are sniffing around. I don’t know what for. Yoongi will tell us when he gets home.”

“Mina?” Eunha asks, taking another sip of tea.

“She’s in the living room, reading,” Jin says. “She is so strong. You have done a wonderful job as her eomma.”

“I don’t know about that,” Eunha says, more to herself than to Jin.

“Well,” Jin says, slapping his own knee. “I do. I won’t pretend I know your life. Or what you’ve been through. But I think, considering just what I’ve seen, I know you are doing the best you can.”

Eunha huffs. “I don’t know if that’s good enough.”

Jin leans forward, his kind eyes locking onto hers.

“It is enough,” he says firmly. “You have been through so much, Eunha. You are still here. Remember that.”

Eunha nods, grateful for Jin’s words but still feeling the weight of her own inadequacy. Eunha lets out a shaky breath.

“Thanks,” she whispers, looking down at her tea.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while until Mina wanders in, book in hand. Without a word, she settles down on Eunha’s lap, nestling herself under the quilt. Eunha smiles softly, running her hand through Mina’s hair. She feels a sense of peace settling over her, feeling the buzz of warmth of Mina’s soul vibrating through her chest and arms. She takes another sip of the tea, feeling the liquid warm her chest, and tucks Mina in a little closer to her body. Eunha looks over at Jin, who has a small smile on his lips.

As they sit there together, the sound of the door opening interrupts their peace. After a few moments, Yoongi peeks in through the open doorway, looking both relieved and exhausted upon seeing everyone comfortably sitting on the floor of the bedroom. His hair is tousled and he has dark circles under his eyes. Eunha feels a jolt of affection for him, surprising herself.

Yoongi sees them and his features soften into a smile.

“Hey,” he says, his voice gentle. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Eunha replies, giving him a timid smile. “Jin filled me in on what’s been going on.”

Yoongi nods, sitting down next to them and leaning his back against the bed frame. He looks at Eunha and Mina, then over at Jin, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, the length of it falling back around to frame his face around his cheekbones.

“It’s been a long day,” he says.

Eunha nods. She feels Mina shift against her, and she looks down to see that her daughter has fallen asleep in her arms. Eunha gently picks Mina up and stands, being careful not to jostle her too much.

“I’m going to put her to bed,” Eunha says softly.

Both of the men nod and stand up, picking up the empty tea cups as they go. They quietly tip-toe out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

Eunha nestles Mina under the comforter on the bed. As she tucks her daughter in, Eunha feels a wave of exhaustion wash over her, but she knows she needs to stay awake a little longer. She can hear the sound of Yoongi and Jin talking softly in the living room. She feels like she owes more of an explanation. She’d walked into death today. They surely want to know why. She takes one last look at Mina before leaving the room, making sure that her daughter is sleeping soundly.

As she enters the living room, Yoongi and Jin turn to look at her. Both of them look tired. Eunha feels a wave of guilt crash onto her shoulders.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

Jin clears his throat. “I’m going to head out now. We have a schedule early tomorrow morning. And a debrief about all of this in the afternoon.”

He waves his hands in the air to indicate what he meant by “all of this.”

“Night, hyung,” Yoongi murmurs, walking Jin to the door.

“Call me if you need anything, huh?” Jin prods as he puts on his shoes.

Eunha watches them from her place in the hallway. A pang of envy at their ease and familiarity with one another makes her catch her breath. She hasn’t had a bond like that with anyone since Daniel, a feeling amplified by her recent visit with him in death.

As Jin leaves, Yoongi’s shoulders sag as he turns to face Eunha. His body is tense and heavy like a leaden weight. His gaze is intense yet gentle, giving her a sense of security. His lips quirk into a sad little smile.

He takes a deep breath before speaking, the exhaustion etched deep into his voice. He asks softly, “What happened today?”

Yoongi leads Eunha over to the couch, careful not to touch her. She sinks into the couch beside him, feeling the weight of the day bearing down heavily on her. She’s careful not to sit too close, aware that Yoongi knows she can feel his soul now. She doesn’t want him feeling awkward or put upon.

She clears her throat, mind searching for a place to start. As she does, her eyes cast around the living room. Despite the minimalist nature of the space and the monotone aesthetic, it’s still looks cozy, lived in. An almost tangible sense of peace permeates the air. It’s like being in the eye of a storm, surrounded by quietness that speaks volumes. Eunha pulls the light blue throw that is folded on the back of the couch onto her lap, remembering the echoes of cold that wracked her body earlier.

“Thank you,” she decides to start with.

Yoongi makes a small choking sound in his throat, probably in surprise. He opens his mouth to respond, but Eunha cuts him off before he has a chance to utter any sounds.

“I know you don’t think you deserve thanks,” she says. “But you’ve done more for me- more for Mina-yah, than anyone has done in a long time. I needed- I needed this time to find my footing again. And, maybe, I don’t think I’m quite there yet. A lot still worries me. I don’t know what the future holds. But I’m feeling more awake and more rested than I have- oh, since I can remember, really.”

Yoongi’s jaw snapped shut somewhere in the middle of Eunha’s impromptu speech and after he knows she’s done, he nods his head slowly.

“I was about Mina’s age, I can’t remember exactly when, when I walked in the river for the first time,” Eunha says after a few minutes of silence.

This time, the choking sound of surprise from Yoongi is unmistakable. So is the little gasp he makes when he tries to suck in air in his shock.

“My uncle had flown all the way to America,” Eunha continues, “to train me. That was a big deal. My parents spent so much time preparing the house and cleaning and trying to prepare me. I didn’t understand then, but I do now, exactly how powerful he is and what that meant to my parents. He was- is the sort to train by throwing a pupil in the deep-end and watching them flail around until they figure out how to swim. I had been learning the symbols and been trained in music since I was a baby. But nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, prepared me for that first walk in death.”

Yoongi reaches his hand out then and lets it hover near Eunha, unsure if his touch is welcome. Eunha takes a deep breath and then grabs his hand, pulling it back to her lap. The familiar, welcome vibrations of his soul are soothing.

“It was terrifying,” Eunha whispers. “There were no souls, no other beings there. It was just my uncle, me, and the greyness of the river. But it called me. The river did. As if it were excited to meet me, to have me.”

Yoongi squeezes his hand around Eunha’s, sending a caring pulse through the soul connection. Eunha smiles down at their connected hands sadly.

“It ages you, especially when you’re that young, you know? That responsibility. That, I don’t know, that pull. Every single time I walk in death, I make a choice. A choice to not heed the call this time. A choice to ignore the insistent tugs of the water. A choice to live.”

“Oh, Eunha.” Yoongi’s voice is barely audible, cracking in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Eunha whispers. “I didn’t mean to burden you with all of this.”

“Not a burden,” Yoongi says firmly. “No more apologies, remember?”

Eunha nods, feeling grateful for his understanding. She takes a deep breath before continuing. She says, “I trained with my uncle until I was 13 years old. I had mastered the basics, I could walk through death blindfolded, and I was well on my way to the advanced spell crafting. Then my uncle had to go back to Seoul. I don’t know why. Something about his business here. I didn’t see him again until just before my 18th birthday, when he came back to finish my training.”

Eunha takes another deep breath and looks out the window. The night lights of Seoul are like stars fallen from the sky, twinkling and shimmering as they dance in the dark. The city lights shine bright and inviting against the velvety night sky, stretching as far as the eye can see. The view is breathtaking, Eunha thinks.

After a minute passes, she refocuses her attention back on their joined hands and the buzz of Yoongi’s soul. She’s positive now that she’s felt him like this, been allowed to have this, she will not be able to let it go.

“I wasn’t happy, with him being back,” Eunha says, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to train with him. I wanted nothing to do with death or magic. I wanted to be a music producer. I wanted to go back to Seoul, where I hoped I would fit it.”

She gives Yoongi a wan smile, looking at his face for the first time since they sat down at the couch. She can’t make eye contact though. That feels like too much.

“We fought. A lot. I felt horribly guilty most of the time. I was miserable. Or, well, I felt like I was the most miserable I could ever feel. Of course, looking back, it was not the worst. I was living relatively comfortably for a time. I was working part time at the local gas station after I graduated high school. We- Dan and I- we were saving up to move to Seoul, so I could be a PD.”

Eunha presses her eyes shut, pain flashing through her chest at the memory. She feels Yoongi give her hands a comforting squeeze.

“It wasn’t just a fight with my uncle. My parents were so disappointed in me. They wanted me to go to university and to train. I didn’t want either. Then, after that first year, there was- this incident- no, it was- well, I found out I was pregnant.”

This time, Eunha swallows, and a bright flush appears on her cheeks. The room is spinning a bit and it feels like she’s going to be sick. She focuses on the resonance of Yoongi’s soul where their hands connect.

She clears her throat before continuing with, “When it became clear I didn’t have any interest letting someone else raise the baby- my mom had suggested she raise her, we can’t have someone of our bloodline live outside the family. When they realized I had every intention of raising the baby myself and that I was going to keep avoiding my training, my education. Well, they cut me off. I think they were hoping I would come to my senses without any financial support. I didn’t.”

Yoongi huffs at her last sentences. He sounds more horrified than amused though. Eunha doesn’t look into his face again, afraid of what she’ll see there. Instead, her eyes remain fixed on their hands. Yoongi’s thumb is rubbing soothing arcs across the back of her hand. Small pulses echo along the vibrations of his soul.

There are lots of things Eunha doesn’t say out loud. The disappointment in her mother’s eyes the last time she saw her. Nor the last words her father ever spoke to her, “You’ll regret your choices.” Nor despite the guilt, fear, and sadness, Not the terror of bringing a baby into the world with no money, no family, no means of survival. But also not how Eunha felt the most hopeful and free she’d ever been. Of course, all of that was an illusion.

The silence engulfs them. Eunha lost in memories she’s not ready to say aloud, Yoongi not daring to interrupt.

“I’ve been running for so long,” Eunha says finally. “I’d gotten good at just putting one foot in front of the other. Until- until I was in that club and- despite everything- I don’t know. I can’t explain the feeling. I was worried for all of you, but I also was not worried for Mina. I knew she was safer with you, maybe safer than she’s ever been in her whole life. It made me feel horrible. I’ve done this to her. I’ve done this to you. To everyone around me. Just from putting one foot in front of the other.”

Yoongi stays quiet, watching Eunha as she sucks in her, trying to keep her composure. It’s slipping though. He feels his heart shattering into pieces in his chest, but not letting himself show his agony.

When Eunha’s breathing evens out, she says, “I feel safe here. And I feel stupid for feeling safe here. And then I feel guilty for feeling stupid. And I feel guilty because I keep putting everyone in danger. But I feel safe here and I’m so tired.”

Her voice breaks and she can feel tears brim over and fall down her face, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t want to break the stillness. Then all of the sudden, she’s buzzing, buzzing everywhere. Yoongi invades her space in the most welcome way, hugging her tightly to him. It feels like he’s everywhere. Eunha melts into the embrace, feeling the warmth of Yoongi’s body enveloping her. She feels safe and protected, like nothing could harm her as long as he is here, and she lets herself be lost in the illusion. She buries her head in his chest, inhaling his scent that is uniquely Yoongi. It’s a mix of musk, cologne, and something citrusy sweet.

Yoongi holds onto her tightly, rubbing circles on her back, humming comfortingly low in her ear. She sobs into his chest, letting out all the pain and hurt that she’s been holding onto for years. As she quiets down, she feels him place a soft, warm kiss on her forehead—not unlike how she settles Mina to sleep—and her heart bursts at the feeling of comfort and safety. She knows she’s never going to be able to let this feeling go.

When her tears run out and she finally pulls away from Yoongi, she feels lighter and freer than she has in a long time. She wipes away the tears from her face and looks up at him with a tentative smile. He returns it with a gentle one of his own.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Yoongi tsks at her, gently pushing her hair behind her ear, and Eunha grimaces a little sheepishly. As she leans back, Eunha becomes conscious of how close they are still sitting, their bodies almost touching. She feels her cheeks grow warm, but doesn’t move away. She knows she must look a mess with her red and puffy eyes, but Yoongi only looks at her with warmth and understanding. For a moment, they sit in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. Then Yoongi’s phone vibrates on the coffee table, interrupting their moment. He picks it up and frowns at the screen.

“I have to get this,” he says, standing up.

Eunha feels the loss immediately. Her skin almost crawls at the stillness, absence of the buzzing vibrations of Yoongi’s soul keenly felt. She wraps her arms around her middle to comfort herself. Yoongi steps away from the couch and goes toward the kitchen. His voice is low, his satoori thickening as he walks. Soon, she’s hearing the clanging of things in the kitchen and it sounds like Yoongi might be cooking something. Eunha feels an endeared smile tug at her lip.

As she waits for Yoongi to finish up his call, Eunha can’t help but let her mind wander. She thinks about the warmth of his embrace and how much it calmed her. It’s been a long time since she’s felt something like that, since she’s felt safe in someone’s arms. She knows that it’s dangerous to let herself lean so heavily on Yoongi, but she can’t help it. Somewhere in the last few weeks, he’s become an anchor.

As she sits there lost in thought, Yoongi emerges from the kitchen with a plate of food. “I hope you’re hungry,” he says with a small smile as he sets the plate down on the coffee table.

Eunha looks down at the food and sees that he’s cooked tteokbokki. The colorful array of sauce and rice cakes glisten in the light, coated with a thick layer of bright red sauce that drips from its edges. She can see flecks of sesame seeds and seaweed interspersed throughout the rice cakes. Her stomach growls at the sight. The spiciness tickles her nose, while the sesame and seaweed add an earthy and salty fragrance. The smell of the red sauce mixed with the rice cakes is heavenly, making Eunha’s mouth water in anticipation.

“I visited Dan today,” Eunha says, staring at the food in her bowl, as if telling the tteokbokki all her secrets. “I needed, I don’t know, I needed reassurance that what I’m doing now isn’t a mistake.”

She can feel the weight of Yoongi’s eyes on her, but she refuses to look up from the bowl in her hands. She can almost imagine him wondering what mistakes she might be making now.

“He warned me that there is trouble, but I guess we already knew that,” she continues.

“We can talk more about it tomorrow. Eat now,” Yoongi says, sitting down with his own bowl in his hands.

“Thank you, Yoongi. I’ll eat well,” she says as she starts to pick at the tteokbokki with the pair of chopsticks Yoongi handed her. The first bite explodes in her mouth, the spiciness dancing across her tongue. It’s delicious, and she can feel Yoongi’s eyes on her, watching her eat.

“This is amazing,” she compliments him between bites. Yoongi makes a small grunt noise to acknowledge the compliment.

They eat in comfortable silence, the sound of their utensils clinking against their plates the only noise filling the room. Eunha can feel her energy levels rising with each bite of food, and by the time she’s done eating, she feels re-energized and ready to face whatever comes next.

“Who was on the phone?” Eunha asks after she’s finished her last bite, desperate for a bit of normalcy.

“My eomma,” Yoongi says. “I normally call her on the weekend. She was worried because she hadn’t heard from me.”

Eunha feels a tightness in her chest and manages to say, “Oh.”

“She’d like you,” Yoongi says into his bowl.

Eunha watches the pink dust Yoongi’s cheeks. “Really?”

Yoongi hums in assent and then asks, “Are you done? I can put these in the dishwasher. It’s pretty late.”

Eunha nods and hands Yoongi her bowl. As Yoongi walks to the kitchen to wash their dishes, Eunha feels a sense of calm wash over her. She takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, feeling the knots in her stomach loosen. It’s not a feeling she’s used to experiencing.

When Yoongi comes back to the living room, he sits down next to Eunha. She can feel his warmth next to her and for a moment, she wonders what it would be like to just lean over and kiss him. She quickly pushes the thought away, knowing that it’s not a thought she should entertain.

“Thank you for dinner,” Eunha says softly. “It was delicious.”

Yoongi grins at her. “I’m glad you liked it.”

His grin brings back the thought she had just dismissed and suddenly nerves flood her whole body. She swallows and stands up. “You’re right. It’s late. I should, uh, I should go to bed. Good night.”

Then she bows at him, cringing at herself as she does it. She knows she’s gone bright red. So, she runs out of the living room, only slowing once she reaches the guest bedroom door. Once she’s inside the bedroom, a glance tells her Mina is still sound asleep. She turns to shut the door and softly bangs her forehead against the smooth wood in frustration. Well, that could not have been more awkward, she thinks.

Counselman Yong Songjin roars, pounding his fist on the table. His black tailored business suit fitting him perfectly, his black hair in a standard business cut staying perfectly coiffed, even as he bends over his desk in anger. His eyes glow red, betraying his vampiric self. He normally has such manifestations of his nature under control, but with the only other person in the room being his ghoul, he can forgo such niceties and let the mask slip.

Yong Suhwa nods solemnly and lowers her head respectfully. Her dark navy pencil skirt, sharp features, and the no-nonsense way she holds her body showing that her master’s rage is something she’s been used to for decades. “I don’t have an answer yet, Counselman. But I will soon. I’ll find out who is responsible.”

Counselman Yong sighs, pacing back and forth in front of the sky-high windows. He fumes as he looks at Seoul’s sparkling lights, as if they are all mocking him, as if the whole city is laughing at him. Counselman Yong takes a deep breath, his head spinning. He straightens his suit and strides back to the table, trying to collect his thoughts.

“This is insane,” he mutters under his breath. “I want the guest list for the dinner. I want to know who we invited that would dare betray us like this.”

He roughly runs a hand through his hair, lost in thought. “That video puts us in danger with the other covens. Find out who did it. And delete it from everywhere on the internet. I don’t care that it’s already trending.”

Yong Suhwa remains silent, her face blank. She knows her master and she understands this isn’t the time for words. She carefully shifts, already thinking of ways to mitigate this before all their hard work is undone.

“We already have the name of the guest who leaked the video,” the ghoul says, noting an email that just arrived in her inbox. “A businessman. A Kong Jakyung. Runs an import/export business.”

“Bring him here. Now. I want to know why he did this and then I want him dead,” the Counselman responds.

Yong Suhwa nods, already calling someone on her phone.

As Counselman Yong waits for the arrival of Kong Jakyung, he feels his blood boil with anger. How dare this businessman betray him and leak private footage to the public? Clearly, the work he’s been doing to either engender trust and loyalty or fear is not working as well as he’d like. He would have to up his game. And make an example of this Kong Jakyung.

Within the hour, Kong Jakyung is brought to the office, kneeling before Counselman Yong, his head hanging low in shame and fear. He’s an older man, still wearing a dark navy suit, despite the late hour. His face is gaunt, a bruise blossoming on his cheek. He did not come quietly. Counselman Yong stares at him coldly, his red eyes glinting in the dim light. He stands from his seat, towering over the distraught businessman.

“I have only one question for you, Kong Jakyung-ssi,” he states. His voice is as cold as his stare, giving life to the threat underlying his words. “Why would you betray us like this?”

Kong Jakyung flinches, his eyes flickering to Yong Suhwa before quickly looking back at the Counselman. “I-I’m sorry, Counselman. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Counselman Yong scoffs, unimpressed. “Do not insult my intelligence with such blatant lies. You knew exactly what you were doing when you leaked that video.”

Kong Jakyung fidgets, his eyes darting around the room, looking for someone to save him. “I-I didn’t have a choice. They were going to kill me if I didn’t do it.”

“They? Who are they?” The Counselman demands, taking a step forward.

“I can’t say,” Kong Jakyung says faintly. “They’ll kill me.”

The room is deathly silent for a long moment before Counselman Yong says, menacing voice barely loud enough to hear, “And you assume I will not kill you if you don’t tell me everything you know?”

“Puh- puh- please!” Kong Jakyung wails. He brings his hands, palms together, in front of his own chest. “I beg you. I have a family.”

“You should have thought of them before now, I think, Kong Jakyung-ssi,” Counselman Yong states. “Tell me who instructed you to leak the video.”

“So- So- So Chongyul-ssi,” Kong Jakyung wails, prostrating himself before the Counselman. “So Chongyul-ssi told me to leak the video.”

Counselman Yong’s eyes flick to Yong Suhwa in question. She shakes her head, not recognizing the name, but her fingers are already dancing across her tablet.

“Is that all you have?” the Counselman asks the crying mess of a man before him.

“I swear, that’s all, I don’t know anymore,” the man begs.

“Very well,” Counselman Yong says.

The man slumps in relief. Then, faster than the human businessman can track, the vampire is upon him, yanking his head back and to the side by his hair. He strikes then, sinking his teeth into the Kong Jakyung’s trembling neck, the man’s blood spurting into his mouth. The businessman lets out a brief, pained scream, before his breath stops all together and his eyes glaze over. The Counselman doesn’t let up from his prey, draining every last drop of blood from him before releasing his head and watching the lifeless body collapse onto the floor with a thud.

Yong Suhwa watches calmly as the Counselman wipes his bloodied mouth with a handkerchief.

“Dispose of him, but make it public. I want an example made of him. People brought into my circle of trust need to know not to cross me,” the Counselman says, gesturing to the body on the floor. “And get me everything you can on this So Chongyul-ssi.”

Yong Suhwa nods, already typing away on her tablet. She knows what the Counselman wants—he wants revenge. And she will make sure to give him everything he needs to get it. As she works, she can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement run through her at the Counselman’s display of power. She’s been serving him for decades now, and she knows what he’s capable of, but there’s something about tonight’s events that make her heart race with anticipation.

As the clean-up crew comes quietly into the office to remove the corpse, Counselman Yong turns to his ghoul. “Also, we need to do something drastic to distract the public. We need a scandal, a diversion- who is famous now in Seoul? The bigger, the better.”

The ghoul lifts her tablet, tapping away quickly on the screen. “Politician, perhaps?”

“No, no, too close to us,” he says with a shake of his head. “A celebrity?”

“What about musicians?” Yong Suhwa says, clicking on the trends through the tablet’s Naver app.

“Musicians?” Counselman Yong eyes her, looking skeptical.

“Do you know BTS?” she asks.

The counselman grunts in recognition. His mind is already whirling with the ways this could work in their favor. “Do they have any connections to the other covens? I don’t want this mess putting more heat on us from the other families.”

“No, they are notorious for not working for vampires,” Yong Suhwa says, still clicking through articles on her tablet. “In fact, this might be a good way to kill two birds, sir.”

“Make it happen, make sure it can’t be traced back to this office,” he says with a sharp nod.

Yong Suhwa nods briskly, tapping away some more on her tablet.

After a few moments, Counselman Yong straightens himself, looking out the window at Seoul again. “I had been so looking forward to the work ahead of us. We have made so much progress. We can’t falter now.”

Yong Suhwa steps up behind her master. Her voice is low and gentle. “We won’t falter, Counselman. We will find out who did this and we’ll make things right. We’ll use all the resources at our disposal.”

She places a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. “And as for BTS, they are one of the hottest acts in Korea now. Their popularity is skyrocketing and they have a massive international following. If we can get them involved in some sort of scandal that we control, it could be an effective smokescreen to divert attention away from the video. We need to make sure every detail is airtight; there can’t be any loopholes for anyone to exploit.”

Counselman Yong nods slowly, considering her words. “Yes, that might just work. But be careful. We can’t afford any more missteps.”

Yong Suhwa bows her head respectfully before stepping back to continue her work on the tablet. The room falls silent as she begins planning their next move. She quickly searches through the various articles and reports on the group, noting their weekly activities and other engagements they have coming up. Walking towards the door, her fingers moving deftly over the screen, jumping from social media platform to social media platform, as she plots out how BTS will take the heat off their coven.

As she departs, Yong Songjin resumes his pacing through his office. His fury still pumps through his veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in his soul that won’t easily be extinguished. He is not just Counselman Yong Songjin, he is a vampire whose wrath will rain down upon Seoul and make it bow before him or face certain destruction.

Yoongi sets his phone down next to his glasses on the bedside table before rubbing the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb. He knows he should sleep. Today was a very long day and tomorrow will most likely be just as long.

As he thinks back to the conversation he and Eunha had just had in the living room, he feels his heart splinter. Eunha and Mina both have already been through so much in their lives. Yoongi, with all his wealth and sway of public opinion, wish he could be more effective in protecting them.

Eunha had looked so small and vulnerable. He looks down at his own hands in his lap, remembering the feeling of her hands in his. Yoongi sits on his bed, closes his eyes, tilts his head back towards the ceiling, hitting the headboard as he groans, imagining what it would be like if he could just reach out and hold her anytime. If he could be the person to hold her.

He shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts of Eunha out of his mind. But they persist, creeping up on him like a vine until he can’t ignore them anymore. Remember the feel of her forehead against his lips, he wonders what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her lips against his, and his heart rate picks up at the thought. Yoongi remembers the softness of her skin against his own. Yoongi bit his lip, unable to stifle the small smile that formed on his face from the warmth that filled his chest.

Without thinking, he stands up from the bed and walks over to the window. The cityscape is beautiful at this time of night, but he can’t focus on anything else but Eunha. He imagines her standing next to him, her head on his shoulder as they both take in the view. He leans over and presses his forehead against the cool glass. After a moment, he turns away from the window and takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in his head.

He groans in frustration, throwing himself back onto his bed. He knows he should get some sleep. Yet, sleep eludes him. He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts out of his mind.

He decides to give up on sleep with his head so loud. He quietly leaves his bedroom and walks across the hall to his studio. If he can’t sleep, he might as well get some work done. The computer whirs on comfortingly after he presses the spacebar on his keyboard. The midis, too, blink on in anticipation of what’s to come.

As he begins to tinker with the different instruments and sounds on his computer, Yoongi hums softly to himself, lost in the music. His fingers glide effortlessly across the keys of the digital piano, trying out different sounds and adding layers of instruments until the song takes shape. He already has an idea of where Eunha can fit her own distinct sound into the song, a perfect blend of traditional Korean melodies and modern hip hop beats influenced by Western culture. All that was missing now was Eunha’s touch.

The hours fly by without him noticing, and soon he has crafted the perfect track. He leans back in his chair, exhausted but satisfied with what he has created. The restlessness that had plagued him earlier now seems to fade away, replaced by a sense of calm. With each note he perfects, he can feel his worries slipping away, replaced by a sense of contentment.

It’s only when the first rays of sunlight begin to creep into the room that Yoongi realizes how much time has passed. He stretches his arms above his head, feeling the satisfying ache in his muscles. As he gets up to stretch his legs, he feels a twinge in his back and groans, realizing he’s been hunched over his computer for hours. He takes a deep breath and rubs his sore neck before noticing Eunha standing at the door, her hair tousled from sleep. She raises an eyebrow at him, quirking her mouth into a small smile.

“Good morning,” she says softly.

Yoongi blinks in surprise before returning her smile. “Morning. Breakfast?”

“I’ll help,” she replies, nodding sleepily.

Yoongi nods, turning his computer back off after making sure everything is saved to the cloud. He turns back to Eunha who is still leaning in the doorway. He gives her another smile and, without thinking, reaches out his hand to connect with hers. His smile widens when she reaches out with her own hand without hesitation. He feels the wonderment explode in his chest as he says, “Okay. Let’s go.”

#thearmyprof #bts ff #bts fanfic #myg #bts fantasy au #fae bts #bts angst

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hobiiiiiworld · 2 years

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Heartstrings | Chapter 2 - Saying goodbye feels like this

Previous chapter

Synopsis: You can your family are not exactly close. It seems that whatever you do, they never want to accept you. Their newest hangup: your love-life. Or, lack thereof. There is a perfect solution to your problem, and he goes by the name of Jung Hoseok.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x female reader | Best friend Min Yoongi x female reader

Genres: Fake dating | Nothing to lovers | University AU

Word Count: 10,4K

TW: just some light swearing for this chapter

Read on Ao3

You unlock your door after finally managing to fit the key into the hole. For some reason, you're finding it hard to keep yourself standing straight. You stumble inside, kick off your shoes and make your way into the kitchen, suddenly in the mood for some food. As you move, Yoongi follows behind you, locking the door, kicking off his shoes and watching you trying to figure out what you want to eat. After a couple of minutes Yoongi sighs and walks over.

"Let me," he tells you, gently pushing you out of the way. "Just… Go drink something," you nod and turn around, already walking towards the fridge. "Without alcohol!" he adds.

"Yes sir!"

You find yourself a bottle of soda and a bottle of water, bring them to the livingroom and settle yourself on the couch. As you wait, you try settling your uneasy stomach by finding a movie to watch. This is the first time Yoongi has wanted to talk to you like his, and for the first time, you don't know what to expect from Yoongi.

Not a minute too early, Yoongi strolls into the livingroom with some food, which you happily eat. Yoongi settles himself against the sofa, feet on the coffee table. He starts to fidget with his hands, a clear sign he's nervous. For a while, the two of you just sit next to each other in silence. When done with the food, you flump against Yoongi, your head leaning on his chest in an attempt to soothe his nerves. The livingroom falls silent as the two of watch the movie, but neither of you really pay attention to it. You settle yourself against him even more, your knees propped up and your arm going around his waist so you can relax more comfortably. You can hear Yoongi´s heartbeat racing away. What reason does he have to this nervous? It's just you.

As if he can read your mind, he clears his throat.

"_____?" You only nod, too comfortable. "I want to tell you something, but I suck at these things, almost as much as you suck at personal space," he sighs, which makes you look up at him. As you lean up to watch his face you end up being only centimeters from his face, and Yoongi closes his eyes and exhales. "See?" When he opens his eyes again you notice the worry in his eyes.

"You know you can tell me anything. You really don't have to be scared," you tell him, once again snuggling up to him to give him comfort. "I'm always going to be here." The position is awkward, so Yoongi brings his arm behind your back, placing a soft hand on your shoulder. Yoongi knows what he want to say, he just doesn't know how to say it. So, he closes his eyes and let his instincts take over. For a while, Yoongi doesn't say anything and your focus goes to the movie.

That is until Yoongi suddenly kisses the top of your head. He has done that before, but not like this. Not while laying down on your couch in the middle of the night, you half drunk and him holding you. Intimate. It suddenly feels like you're stepping over a line. Confused of your own feelings and Yoongi´s actions, you pull back with a small smile, trying to rid yourself of the confusion.

"God, I'm so awkward," he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. "And it's us, you know? It shouldn't matter because I know what you will say, but it doesn't change anything. I still want to tell it to you, and I want you to know, but…" his voice fades into nothing. "You get what I'm trying to say, right?" You shake your head. Even though the suspicion is growing by each second that goes by, you still can't afford to make any assumptions. To place words in his mouth. "Listen, to you, touching and cuddling comes natural, it's just a part of friendship, right? But it's not that easy to me. I really like my own personal space. When we first became friends I thought you were flirting with me, but over time I realized that it didn't mean anything to you," he laughs a bitter laugh, not looking at you. "Like, at all. Once I realized that, I just let it be. I let you express yourself the way you wanted and felt comfortable. Let you invade my private space even though it made me uncomfortable, because it didn't mean anything. However -" there is a pregnant pause before he looks up at you. You heart rate picks up at the thought of what he will say next. "- it feels like something have changed lately. And I can't go around pretending it hasn't. It's not fair to you, and it's really not fair to me. Because I used to not like to cuddle, but now I just want to hold you closer to me. And so I realized that-"

"Yoongi," you try to stop him from saying it. From changing everything.

"I think I'm in love with you." As he says it Yoongi looks down at his feet. "And by each day that goes by it gets harder to pretend that I don't have these huge feelings." There is a pause, Yoongi sneaking looks at you meanwhile your whole world is spinning. Yoongi is in love with you? "Sorry I couldn't give a better proclamation, as I said, I suck at these things." He tries to smile, but it falls when he sees your expression. You stay silent, taking in everything. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

You have never considered how Yoongi must be feeling. Never did it cross your mind that he might want something else than friendship. That he had another reason to be around you than ´just because`… How long has been feeling like this? And then your realize that he might have done everything he did for you because he wanted you to return his feelings, not because he was your friend and wanted to be there.

"It's a lot…" you start, trying your best to form sentences. "I just… How long?"

He thinks a while.

"I guess it's maybe coming up to a year or so now?" Yoongi answers. A year? A year worth of coffee runs together? A year worth of cuddles? A year worth of you falling asleep on his shoulder? That long?

"So everything you have done this past year…" you start, trying to figure out your thoughts as you speak. "Have been an attempt to try and make me return your feelings?" You ask.

Yoongi furrows his brows, shaking his head. More than anything, he looks confused.

"No?"

You can't help but feel like he misunderstood your question, so you try again. "So, every time we have been together this last year, your actions haven't been powered by your feelings for me? By you trying to make me feel the same?"

Yoongi sighs, eyebrows going further down, forehead creasing and lips goes in a straight line. He is clearly annoyed and angry now, but doesn't say anything, only breathes. Then, he blinks.

"_____, I know you won't return my feelings, that's not what is happening here."

There is another pause, and you're losing your mind because what do you say? How do you explain your feelings? In the silence Yoongi let's his face fall, and you finally see it: how much he is hurting this moment. Of course he is holding up, he is Yoongi, but you know Yoongi better than you know yourself. The darkness in his eyes, his lips that are turned down and relaxed, and his eyebrows turned down are all telling you he is hurting.

You can only see it a second before he hides his face in his hands. You want to place your hand on his shoulder and comfort him, but you doubt that would be any better, so you just watch him. When Yoongi speaks, his low voice rumbles all the way though your skin and straight to your heart.

"You know I would never do that to you."

"Sorry."

"The reason I told you how I feel is because I wanted you to know; I can't keep anything from you. But _____, some things need to change…"

The words sounds so weird coming out of Yoongi´s mouth. So raw and honest, and you have never heard him like this before.

"What do you mean?"

"You were a little bit right earlier, I have probably catered to you a little bit more than I would have if I didn't love you… But I never intended or wanted to receive anything from you, I just liked doing those things for you, but I probably need to stop doing that. I need to take a step back and stop acting like something I'm not."

"Yoongi," you say, making him look up at you. "I love you - but I'm not in love with you. You're my best friend." There is a pause where Yoongi just nods at the ground. "Right now I'm not in the right headspace for a relationship, so even if I could possibly love you back, I wouldn't let that happen right now. It's not something I want have space for in my life. It has nothing to do with you, but it's all me," you tell him, trying to express your thoughts that are in shambles.

He takes a deep breath and nods his head once more, rubbing his eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt you or anything…"

"Don't worry about it. I knew you didn't feel the same for me, so why are you acting like you're breaking up with me?" he forces a laugh, and you smile. "Alright. I think I'm done here for the day. Try to get some sleep, alright?"

Yoongi is the first one to stand up, and you follow his actions. As he turns around, panic strikes you. Is he really leaving like this? Your whole relationship is up in the air and he is just leaving like this? Who knows what will happen when Monday comes and things have changed, but you're not ready to find out. You just want your relationship to be the same for one more night.

"Can you not stay?" You ask in a rush, and Yoongi turns around. "We can watch a movie or something. Talk some more…?"

"Of course, if that's what you want." And you can't help but notice it: he is doing it for you. Even though he is hurting right now, he is willing to sit in his hurt to comfort you.

"You don´t have to. I understand if you don't want to."

Yoongi laughs. "We're still friends, right?" You nod. "Didn't we watch movies together two years ago, as well? Who says we can't watch one now?"

And so, the two of you settle yourselves on each side of the couch, creating some space between you. Finding a new movie to watch turns out to be harder than expected, all the recommended movies being about love. In the end you settle on an action movie, which you don't pay attention to. You can tell Yoongi isn't paying attention either, picking at his T-shirt, changing positions more than he is sitting still, and looking anywhere else but you or the TV.

Halfway through the movie Yoongi suddenly stands up.

"I'm going to go. It's getting really late, and know I said I would stay, but… To be honest I'm really tired right now, and this -" he gestures between himself and the TV. "- feels like something I shouldn't be doing to myself," he still tries to smile, which makes you even more sad.

"Of course," you try to reassure him despite your own mixed feelings, standing up as well. Things are already changing, and even though you knew they would, and had to for Yoongi´s sake, it's still not a good change. You're slowly losing your friend, you realize. "Let me walk you out."

Once in the hallway, you watch as Yoongi ties his shoes. If you could take everything he was feeling away from him you would gladly do that. During your friendship Yoongi haven't had many low periods, but every time time he did, he always turned to you. To think that he won't be turning to you now, leaning on someone else instead, hurts in some weird way. It has always been the two of you, open and honest with each other. It shouldn't be different now, but it has to be…

You dry the tears that fell as soon as Yoongi stands to stand up, but of course he notices. Without hesitating he brings you in for a hug.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, annoyed but fond. At the same as he squeezes his arms around your shoulders. "You're acting like you're the one who's heartbroken," he jokes, and you sigh.

"I just don't want things to change too much."

"They won't. I just need to sort myself out. Be patient with your best friend and he will find his way back, and not this stupid guy with annoying feelings." There is a pause. "Good luck with your parents and Hoseok on Sunday, and you can tell me all about it on Monday, ok? Well, maybe not everything. " he backtracks, voice quivering. With one last squeeze he lets go of you, turns around and leaves without looking back once.

The emptiness Yoongi left you with is sitting heavy on you, and you don't really want to go back to the living room. Yet, the movie still playing, and you decide to not torture yourself more than you have to - watching a movie might take your mind off everything. As you sit down you see Yoongi´s phone on the couch. In the space of one minute you have located your keys, thrown on your slippers and run down the stairs, throwing the door open. You're running to the parking-lot when you see the car just standing there. No lights on, nothing. Slowly, you approach, only to see Yoongi sitting in the driver's seat, head leaning against the steering-wheel.

Carefully, you knock. You know he heard by the small jerk of his head before he caught himself, hiding his face again. You knock once more, saying his name this time. "You left your phone."

Slowly, he turns around and opens the door. You hand him his phone, trying to see his face.

"Are you alright?"

He only nods.

"Yoongi." When you lay your hand on his, he looks up. The first thing you see are the tear-filled eyes, then the red nose and at last his puffy cheeks. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest for a while.

"It really sucks," he smiles sadly, opening his eyes to look at you. "You know, the thing about this feeling is that even though I realistically know I won't get to be with you, I still really want to. And then you rejected me and asked me to stay, and I really hated you for a second there." He sighs, hitting his head lightly against the headrest in frustration. "I'm so sorry, _____. I'm messing everything up," he speaks calmly as tears keeps pouring out. Your heart aches, but the one thing that has always helped - a hug - will probably not help right now… There is nothing you can do, being the one who hurt him.

"You can tell me that. When I'm overstepping you have to say that."

"Everything feels like overstepping."

"Yoongi."

"You just don't get it, do you? Even this -" he looks down your hand on his. "- is setting everything on fire in me. You should really go."

"What can I do?"

"Either you can tell me you love me and kiss me, or you can go upstairs and let me be for the rest of the night."

"What?"

"This sucks so much. Everything sucks. You being here sucks. You being up there sucks. You holding my hand sucks. You not holding my hand sucks. And I really tried to see how it would be between us now that you know. Thirty minutes with you across the couch was torture, can you imagine what this does to me? So yes, go home or end my misery." He meets your eyes, and have to take a deep breath.

The message is clear. You have no choice but to let him go. Watching him intently, you let go of his hand and step back. Once cleared, Yoongi closes the door and sink down in his seat. You watch as he covers his face, his shoulder now shaking. Watching your best friend cry like this and not being able to do anything is worse than anything, so you walk back up to your apartment, take a long shower and get yourself into bed, only to have a long and restless night.

If it's Yoongi´s words or the alcohol that has your stomach in a twist and your head feeling like a rock, you don't know, but you're more and more inclined to lean against Yoongi´s words. They replay like a broken record. "Either you can tell me you love me and kiss me, or you can go upstairs and let me be for the rest of the night." During the night, you even forced yourself to try and picture yourself together with Yoongi. All you could see was how awkward you would feel to hold his hand or kiss him. You never knew just how platonic you thought of Yoongi until those pictures entered your mind. To you, Yoongi have always been a good friend to lean on. It never crossed your mind to want to kiss him or to be with him in that way. Just the though makes you feel awkward and weird.

The clock finally hits ten, and you let yourself rise from bed. With only a couple of hours of sleep, you make some food and eat before you start to clean the apartment, all in an attempt to distract yourself from the image of Yoongi in the car.

By twelve you remember that you and Hoseok have plans, and you send him a message telling him to just come over whenever. By the time you have showered and gotten dressed, your phone rings.

Jung Hoseok calling.

Suddenly you feel nervous, a completely different part of the night before now entering your mind. You clear your throat and pick up.

"Hi."

"_____," Hoseok says, voice hoarse. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad, just a little tired. I can't handle a late night like I used to," you say, trying you very best to put everything aside and act normal

Hoseok laughs. "Don't need to tell me. I feel like dying right now."

His words sends a spiral of doubt through you. Maybe everything that happened last night is making him feel awkward. Maybe he doesn't want to be alone with you now that the two of you… Well, technically you did nothing, but to you, nothing can be a whole lot. Maybe this is Hoseok trying to get out of today's plans; you can't really blame him, feeling a little awkward as well. You decide to bite.

"We can reschedule to tomorrow morning if you want?" you offer.

"No, that was not what I want at all… I'm just calling to ask what you want for brunch." You're a little surprised at the initiative, but try to go with the flow.

"I'll just have whatever you're having. As long as it's not too weird, like banana-pizza or something," you say.

"Why do you not have faith in me? First ballroom dancing and now this? I think I want to break up."

You can't help but smile at the playfulness in his voice.

"But how, oh how, will I make it without you, my love? I was to introduce you to my parents. You were my last hope for freedom!"

"_____?" Hoseok asks, clearly not playing along, making you blush in embarrassment.

"Yeah?"

"Do you even know how cute you are?" Hoseok says, making you blush even more. When you don't reply, Hoseok speaks again, "Can you tell me what you really want to eat, now? The woman on aisle eleven is not very happy with me right now."

"A simple sandwich would suffice, I already ate a while ago."

"Alright. I'll be at yours in twenty minutes then."

"See you soon," you say, not waiting for a reply before hanging up.

After the very awkward episode on the phone, you spend the next twenty minutes trying to force yourself to calm down. You can be normal. You are normal, it was probably the lack of sleep that made you too carried away. You just have to relax and be yourself, and you'll avoid any further embarrassment. Suddenly your phone rings. It's once again Hoseok.

"It's me. I think I'm here - what do I press?" Hoseok asks.

"The one with my name, maybe?" You tease, then suddenly realize he might not know your last name, which is the only part of your name on the name tag downstairs. You run a hand down you face in desperation. "It's apartment 314," you add. A second goes by and the bell goes off, and you buzz him in.

"Thanks," he says, and adds your full name at the end, making you feel fuzzy. Your own name should not make you feel fuzzy, you realize and shake it off. Calm is key…

You wait in the hallway, the sound of Hoseok´s steps bouncing off the walls as he approaches. You see him before he sees you, and you take a second to take him in. The first think you notice is his hair, which still seems to be wet, hanging in front of his face, and you realize you have only ever seen him with styled hair. Until now. Then you notice the hallows of his cheeks. He is wearing baggy clothes today, incredibly making him look even smaller. This Hoseok, the leisurely-laidback-hungover one, is very handsome. You realize that it's his face. It looks longer now, more grown.

Hoseok looks up and sees you. He smiles tiredly, walking slower now.

"Hi," he says, opening his arms for a hug, which you happily step into, letting yourself melt into his warm embrace for a while.

"Thanks for coming," you force yourself to step back, holding the door open for Hoseok to go through.

"Thanks for inviting me."

He kicks off his shoes and places them neatly by the corner.

"Let me give you a little tour of the place," you say, walking further into your apartment, Hoseok right in your heel. "The kitchen," you comment as you enter, turning around. As you watch Hoseok taking in your home, you suddenly feel very aware of every little piece of your kitchen. Maybe you should have hid the half eaten bag of chips left after your breakfast, or lit a scented candle to mask the smell of your cooking. Hoseok is smiling, though, and you relax a little against the counter.

"It's so nice. It's so much bigger than the kitchen at the student hall. How can you afford this?" Hoseok asks, turning his attention to you.

"Oh… I know the tenant, she gives me a good price. I have a job on the side as well, so with the student aid I'm lucky enough to afford this," you explain.

"What's your job?"

"Just retail - boring stuff, really. But it pays the bills, and they're nice enough to accommodate my university schedule from semester to semester." Hoseok nods, seemingly done taking in the kitchen. You move on to the living room. "This is the living room." You don't know you're commenting on the rooms as if he can't see it's the living room. Everything about this - Hoseok in your home - is making your mind jumbled, your body strangely tingly now that it's only the two of you locked in this small apartment together. It's hard to think think straight.

Hoseok goes straight for the pictures you hung up. After a second, he points to the one photo you have of you and your family.

"It this you and your brother?" You nod, watching him taking in the picture. Imagining this Hoseok dancing hip-hop is much easier. It's something about the way he leans forwards, his hands in his pockets. You can't help but watch as his eyes goes back and forth, reminding you of last night.

"What's his name?"

"Jin." Another second goes by before you add: "It's Seokjin."

When Hoseok turns around he is wearing a content grin, making you smile too.

"What?" you ask.

"You're finding this so awkward, aren't you?"

"What, no?" But you are.

"You are!" he laughs, pointing his finger at you.

"Maybe a little bit," you agree, cringing a little. It's just that after last night I can't look at you without getting reminders of what almost happened, leaving a weird feeling of tension in my body. You should tell him that you should forget yesterday. That all you can offer him is friendship. You want to be clear with him, but as you're about to speak, closing that door is harder than you imagined. "I was way too drunk last night, it's embarrassing," is what you say instead. It makes Hoseok chuckle.

"It was a very cozy night." he says, and you groan. "I enjoyed it, _____. Besides, you're my girlfriend, nothing to be embarrassed by, sweetie," he winks, making you blush furiously. You force yourself not to touch your face as you feel it heat up. "Or are you a baby-kinda girl?" You're at a loss for words, and just stare at Hoseok, who is staring back at you now, grinning. Something about Hoseok is so daring to you. Maybe it's his smile, or his hair, or even his voice.It doesn't really when he makes your whole body electric with anticipation. Suddenly you're aware of your own face, and you realize you're grinning back. You force it away to the best of your ability. "Alright, sweetie it is," he concludes.

Quickly turning away, you take the lead into the hallway, tapping on the first door. "This is the bathroom. Help yourself to it whenever. And this is my bedroom." You tap on the last, closed door. "That's the whole apartment."

Hoseok holds up the bag in his hand. "Should we eat?"

"We can eat in the living room?" you offer.

The two of you settle down in the living room, you on one side of the couch, Hoseok taking the corner space oposite. He hands you the sandwich and unwraps his own, resting himself against the couch. For a moment he closes his eyes, leans back and props his feet up on the sectional. You feel bad for making him come all the way and exerting himself like this, especially when he's not feeling his best.

"Feel at home." He eyes you as he takes a bite. Setting an example, you settle yourself back on the couch, your feet now laid straight in the couch, almost laying all the way down. It takes a couple of seconds before Hoseok follows your cue and settles himself further back in the couch, tugging his feet down under himself.

"So, are you close to your brother, Seokjin?"

"Not at all. He's a little too much," you say. "And let's not forget how much of an ass-kisser he is," you say casually, making Hoseok almost choke on his sandwich, laughing. "Ever since we were little he has always just wanted to be perfect, and now he uses that as a way to annoy me and to get one up on me with our parents."

"Sorry, that sucks. He should learn to chill and do what makes him happy instead of posing as perfect, if you ask me."

"That's what I mean! Maybe be wouldn't be such an ass if he didn't try to please our parents so much."

"You parents, how bad are they?"

"Depends on what kind of bad you mean. They managed to raise me with some decent values, I think. However, they…" you think of what to say, having a hard time not putting them on full blast. "Aren't always the most caring parents. I would say the value perfection over happiness, money over memories. You get it," you say, shrugging, trying to make less of a deal of it.

"And let's say I'm not all that perfect, how do you think they would react?"

"Don't worry, you're pretty much there," you say, blushing as you realize what you just said. This isn't very chill of you, but your words are making Hoseok smile widely, so you relax again. You take another bite, letting your words settle between the two of you. "Anyway, that's not the reason I said I had a boyfriend."

A moment of silence passes as you both eat.

"Why did you?"

"To get them off my back," you say. "They're always fussing about one thing or another, and now that my brother is getting engaged soon, I'm the new bullseye. Having a boyfriend will make them stop fuzzing about it. About me. And, hopefully, they will let the whole subject go once we break up."

"Really?" Hoseok seems deep in thought.

"What about your family?" you smile, watching him as he fidgets with the wrapping paper.

"I have an older sister, Jiwoo. We're close, but yet, not… She's quite established - married and pregnant - so she tends to find me childish. We get along and have a lot of fun when she finds the time to meet me," Hoseok says, head falling slightly as he relaxes even more. His eyes are shining now, his face even more open. "My mum and dad live on the countryside, about an hour away with the train. I usually go and stay with them during the holidays, but other than that I have to made do with a phonecall."

"It's nice, though. You seem close to them." He nods. "Do you speak with them often?"

"Not anymore. They're getting older; on times they used to call me they now have to rest. But I have nothing to complain about, we're a tight family."

"Doesn't matter. You're allowed to complain."

Of all the things you imagined today, you never imagined sitting here, having a deep conversation with Hoseok about families. It was probably inevitable when the sole reason you're here is your family. With the conversation having turned serious, you forgot your food. All your focus is on Hoseok and the way he practically melted when speaking about his family. His head is resting against the back of couch, hands now laid on his stomach. You watch him, trying your best to look away, but to no avail. Hoseok watches you as well, locking the two of you in a bubble where time ceases to exist.

"Family will never be easy. I chose my friends based on how well we get along and can communicate. Family is just something you are born into and have to tolerate…" Hoseok says, and you can't help but notice the small frown.

"That's not true. For some people there is real love there," you say, sending him a smile, holding yourself back from patting his hand. "Talking less doesn't take away from the love, it just means you're busy. I bet you all really love each other."

"Yeah, you're right."

"Then why the frown?" You can't help but ask.

"I just miss them," he says, shrugging and gathers himself enough to smile. "Now, please tell me more about your family. What should I, your boyfriend, know about them?"

"My dad is a business man, he owns his own company. They produce, store and ship out products for other companies," you tell Hoseok. "My mum is a housewife, but don't let that fool you. Before she met my dad, she worked as the private secretary and knew the most power people on a first name basis. I've had dinner with politicians, entertainers and even some world leaders. My mum will always be more influential than my dad, you trust that."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah," you breathe. "I have nothing to live up to…"

"You shouldn't compare yourself to her. It sound dreadful, stressful and boring, you wouldn't want to do that anyway. That's not where your potential lays."

"Really? Then where does my potential lay?" you ask, grinning now. Hoseok looks you up and down, a playful look on his face, and leans forward.

"Seduction," he whispers, making you turn red immediately. "Last night, you-"

You cut him off, embarrassed more than anything. "Shut up!" you say through your hands that shield your face from Hoseok´s view.

"I found it cute." You shake your head, hoping for this to stop. "Sexy, even."

"Don´t tease me for my drunken mistakes," you say, laying face down into the couch. Hoseok doesn't say anything else, and your face slowly returns to it's normal shade. When you peak at him, he is staring at you with a grin.

"You weren't that drunk," he adds, and you groan. "Sorry! I'll stop."

"Please do. Just for the record, I don't do those things, you know?"

"What, fun?"

"No, the whole…" you gesture with your hands, a loss for words. How can you possibly explain this without sounding like a dork?

"Making out?"

"One night stand."

"Was that what we were doing?" At his question you can't help but shift on the couch. What is the right answer here? Is there even one?

"Yes? No? I dont know, you tell me."

"It was definitely not a one night stand."

"Alright," you say, feeling like your nerves are all over the place. Why can't you just be relaxed? Usually you would be joking back. Instead, you're a blushing and stuttering mess. In an effort to calm down, you take a short breath in, then out. "Anyway, you keep going off track. Let's get back to the family talk."

Hoseok opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before he does. A second goes by before he speak again.

"You're right. So far we have your dad, the businessman, you mum, the influence itself, and your brother, the ass. Anyone else I need to know about?"

"Nope. I think it's alright for now."

"Then what about you? What else should I know?"

"I´m the black sheep. I'm the one who isn't engaged by the age of twenty-three. I'm in business just to please my dad, but suck at it. And I'm not good looking. My future looks bleak, to say the least. Bringing you will be the best thing I've done."

"Your future might look bleak," Hoseok says, smiling encouraging to you, "but it's only because you're lookin at from the wrong angle. Trust me, you're all good."

There is a silence where Hoseok turns his head, sighing in contentment as you let his words sink in. You want to explain that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, it's the opinion of the people who should love you regardless - your parents - that matters to you. How can you convey the feelings you possess of never being good enough just because two people tells you so? How can you explain that you know their opinion shouldn't matter, and they don't, but they do anyway. They matter the most. Because it's easy for Hoseok to tell you that you're good, but it's your parents who want you to succeed in life, knows you better, and who have a better understanding. They know how things work. And even though you would never admit it, their approval would mean the world to you.

When you turn to Hoseok next, you see him laying there, eyes closed and looking tired. Maybe you should just tell him to go home…

"Do you want to watch a movie?" you ask, gaining his attention.

"I'm up for anything."

While you pick the movie, Hoseok collects a blanket and wraps himself in it. You pick the first movie you see and hit play. As the movie starts, the two of you settle down in the silence, watching as things escalades in the movie. Something happens on the screen, you can tell by all the noise, but the lack of sleep and exhaustion hits you. By each minute passing, you can feel yourself drifting more and more. Your efforts to stay awake are fruitless, and with a sudden drop of your head you jump awake again. As if a reflex, you look and see Hoseok looking your way with a smile. Slowly, he scoots down, laying down now. He holds out his arm, opening the blanket with a shy smile, clearly asking you to lay down next to him.

"Come on," he softly encourages, nodding his head. Your head is spinning now. He wants you to cuddle him? "I won't bite," he jokes, his voice low. And you don't have it in you to say no. Not that you want to say no. Every fiber in you are screaming for you move, and so you do, head spinning.

You sit down next to him and give him a quizzing look, making sure he's alright with this once more. Hoseok rolls his eyes, softly grabs your shoulders and drags you down to him. Soon your engulfed in blankets, arms and feet. At first you are too aware of every little thing for you to properly relax. Only when Hoseok brings the blanket higher up and around your shoulders, can your body relax properly.

By now, you're not sure what's happening on the TV-screen, and you don't care. All you can perceive is Hoseok arm that is resting on your hip, and his other hand, now going under the blanket to grab your elbow. Gunshots are going off on the screen, but who is shooting seems unimportant when Hoseok´s chin is resting on the top of your head. You couldn't care less about who won the fight when Hoseok´s thumb is rubbing softly on your arm, lulling you to sleep.

The next thing you know, the livingroom is quiet. You're comfortable, more comfortable than you have been in a long time, and let yourself drift back to sleep.

Suddenly, you're brought back again, the realization that you're in Hoseok´s arms hitting you. Carefully, you lift your head and prop yourself up on your elbow. Hoseok is sleeping, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You fell asleep… While cuddling Hoseok. The realization sends a small panic through you. This was a bad idea. Just last night you told Yoongi you didn't want a relationship, and here you are, cuddling Hoseok. And yes, cuddling is fine - it can be platonic - but with Hoseok, you definitely don't want it to be platonic. You know as much, and you know it's a bad idea to go down this route.

Carefully, you lay your hand on his shoulder and shake.

"Hoseok?" you whisper. Hoseok opens his eyes slowly, blinking hard a couple of times before resting his eyes on you. He smiles lazily, his hand around your waist tightening. "We fell asleep," you tell him.

"Seems so." Hoseok clears his throat, clearly more awake now. Taking this as your cue, you get out of his arms and stand up. Needing an excuse to get yourself out of the room and recollect yourself, you pick up the bag with trash and walk to the kitchen. After throwing it away, you pour yourself a glass of water, which you chug down. If things weren't confusing before, it certainly is now.

Suddenly Hoseok is right behind you, stretching his body. "I should get going."

Don't be disappointed, you tell yourself, but his ruffled hair is making it hard to be rational.

"I´ll walk you out."

You quickly grab your keys before returning to find Hoseok in the hallway, tying his shoes. After stepping into your slippers, the two of you exit the apartment, Hoseok suddenly turning to you with a wicked grin. You already know what he's thinking, and shake your head.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Jung."

"I didn't say anything," he says as you climb the stairs painfully slow. "But…" he starts, but only laughs.

"No buts," you say.

"Fine. I'm a boobs man, anyway," he shrugs, and you almost trip down the stairs. Correction, you would have fallen if it wasn't for Hoseok´s hand grabbing your elbow. "Sorry."

"I remember when I first met you," you tell him, stopping to look at him. "I remember thinking you would be a great match because you knew to hold your tongue. I could not have been any more wrong about you," you say, trying your best to be serious, but failing desperately.

Hoseok grins back at you. "I mean, I could hold my tongue, but why would I when you always give me that look when I don't?" There is a pause before he goes on. "Don't worry, I'll be good during dinner tomorrow," he smiles, and you believe him.

"I know you will, I'm not worried about that."

"I have some questions about tomorrow."

"Fire away."

"Where are we going? Should I wear anything special?"

"It's quite a nice restaurant, so you can wear something nice. Nothing too nice, though. A nice sweater with a polo underneath would do the trick. Maybe a nice pair of trousers."

"And what time should I pick you up?"

"It starts around six, but I can walk if it's out of your way."

"Don't worry, I'll pick you up around half six."

"Nervous?"

"For some reason, yes?" he answers it like a question, and the two of you laugh lightly.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. But Hoseok? Please, if they say anything out of line, try your best to not let it get to you."

"You warned me before," he reminds you.

"I know, but they tend to aim under the belt," you explain just as you come down on the last flight of stairs. The two of you step outside, turning to each other.

"My belt, as well?"

"No." You breathe out. "It's mostly about me. Just don't let them get a rise out of you."

"I´ll ask again, how bad are your parents?"

"Bad enough for me to acquire a fake boyfriend? I usually try to get out of these dinners, but I can't avoid them forever," you shrug. A moment passes. "Thank you for coming here," you tell him, shifting on your feet.

The anticipation of parting ways makes the air heavy between you, andHoseok takes a step towards you, reaching out his hand to touch your cheek, stroking it lightly. Just one more moment, you chant in your head. One more moment… When you look up at him, you meet his gaze, and for a split second his eyes goes to your lips. You know you shouldn't be welcoming this moment, but your mind and body is screaming at you to let it happen. You want it too much to deny it now that it's here, and so, instead of running away, you smile back, your eyes automatically drifting to his lips as well.

You can't find it in you to breathe as he holds your gaze, inching closer. "Thanks for today."

"I had a great time," you whisper, clutching you keys.

"I did, too," he whisper back, taking one final step towards you, his torso now flushed against you. Hoseok finally closes his eyes and leans in, slow enough to give you plenty of time to draw back. You don't, and when his lips meet yours, it's not enough. The kiss is feathery light, your lips barely touching, but it sends your whole body rigid. You want to grab his shirt and pull him to you, but before you can do that, Hoseok steps back, letting out a wishful sigh. "I´ll see you tomorrow,"

You watch him walking away for a moment before turning away, locking yourself back inside.

If Hoseok is nervous, he doesn't let it show, keeping his face blank as he drives. You, on the other hand, are a blabbering mess. As Hoseok drives towards the restaurant, you keep telling him small facts about yourself in case it could be useful. The thought of getting caught in your lie almost sends a shiver through you. Even Hoseok´s hand on yours does nothing to help from this nervousness. So, you keep spilling everything you can remember about yourself to him, hoping it somehow help sell your lie.

"I used to play handball, then switched to football before I ended up not playing any sports at all. When I was thirteen I got braces. I'm a dog person, but my parents never let me get one. I didn't tell you about my brother´s girlfriend, Sienna! She's actually very sweet. A teacher, she's my age. The two of them met -"

Hoseok squeezes your hand. "Even couples doesn't know every little detail about each other, just try to relax. Everything will be fine," he says, turning off the road and into a gas-station, where he stops the car. "I'm just getting myself a coffee, you want anything?"

You shake your head, try to give a smile, which seems enough as Hoseok leaves you alone in the car. The radio keeps playing, the sound mere background noise to your very loud anxiety. It's not too late to call them and say you broke up this morning, you think to yourself. It's not only the thought of getting caught,that is worrying you. Putting Hoseok out there like this, exposing him to your parents is already making you feel worries. Who knows how they will react; what might come out of their mouths.

Deep in your thoughts, you don't even notice Hoseok approaching the car. As he closes the car door, he holds out a cup for you. When you take it, it's hot.

"Thought some tea might calm your nerves," he explains, fastening his seatbelt and drives off. The drive goes way too fast, and you barely finish your tea before Hoseok is parking the car. "Ready whenever you are, girlfriend," he tell you. It's time, and so all you can do is take a deep breath, nod your head and exit the car.

Hoseok opens the door to the restaurant, holding it open for you with a small smile. As you walk past him, he grabs your hand, clutching it as you walk, showing his first sign of nervousness. You spot your parents in the far back of the restaurant at once - of course you do - and you meet your dad's eye for a second before he looks at Hoseok, eyes raking over his body with a frown before he lands on your intertwined hands. Fuck.

"Last chance to back out," you look up at Hoseok. I reply, he lets your hand go, brings his hand to the small of your back instead. Smiling, he leans in and kisses the top of your head. You're not sure if you can keep standing, the feeling of him lingering on you.

"I think it's already too late, your dad is sending me lazer eyes," he says."You're sure he's not actually capable of murder, right?" The joke helps, and you can't help but chuckle with him.

You walk up to the table, your mum watching you as well. "_____," she says, standing up to greet you. After giving her a quick hug, you kiss your dad's cheek, then turn to Hoseok, who is watching with a smile.

"Mum, dad, this is Hoseok," you introduce, at which Hoseok steps forward to greet them with his hand outstretched. The initial introduction goes quickly, and the two of you take seat next to each other across from your parents.

"How did you get here?" your mum asks, looking between the two of you. You lean closer to Hoseok in hopes of looking more like a couple.

"We drove, I was lucky enough to get to borrow my sister´s car," Hoseok answers, and you see you dad sizing Hoseok up and down.

"Is Seokjin and Sienna joining us?" you ask before your dad can speak.

"They should be here any minute," you mum says before turning to Hoseok who is taking a sip of water, hand shaking ever so slightly. "It's so nice to meet you, Hoseok. I wish _____ would have told us more about you, but she can be quite secretive," she winks to him, surprising you. "Rumor has it you're studying the same as her?"

Hoseok nods. "Yes."

"You want to go into business, then?" your dad asks over the edge of his glass.

"Business seems to be the best way to go," Hoseok says vaguely, surprising you with his way with words.

"It is, indeed. _____ isn't quite sure what she wants, yet. She keeps on going with business, though, even if she isn't all that… talented at it," your dad says, making you blush in humiliation. Here we go… The table goes quiet for a couple of seconds. Then, suddenly you hear a familiar voice behind you. Seokjin ruffles your hair in greeting, but you can't get yourself to look up, afraid that the tears will spill.

"You must be the boyfriend?" Seokjin asks, stretching out his hand as Hoseok stands up.

"Yes, I'm Hoseok." A second later Sienna hugs you over your shoulder, which you appreciate.

"Hey, girlie," she says and moves away. "Hoseok, was it?" Some more handshakes and hugs are shared, and then they are all seated again. This time, Hoseok reaches over to grab your hand tightly under the table. The comfort is immediate, and you finally make yourself look up. This time you're not alone around this table.

The urge to ask your brother what made him so late in order to taunt him is strong, but you bite your tongue. "How are you?" you ask Sienna.

"Good, good. Can't complain." Her smile is so bright it rubs off on you, forcing a smile out of you. "You seem good, too?" she asks, sending a quick glance at Hoseok. You blush, making her laugh. "Cutie!"

"Should we order?" Seokjin asks then.

"Good idea," you dad comments. "Tell me, what do you like to eat, Hoseok?" As his name is mentioned, Hoseok hand twitches around yours. You glance at Hoseok. One thing you have noticed is how he smiles continuously. It's always there, never wavering even when he's put on the spot.

"Anything as long as it's properly seasoned and cooked."

"My man," you dad comments, and you almost fall off the chair. "Then you should definitely get the oyster for starter and the house tapas."

"Sounds delicious, I'll trust your opinion, sir."

For a while, everything is fine. The conversation moves away from you and Hoseok to Seokjin and Sienna. They share news that they have bought a house together, and you all cheer, clinking your glasses in celebration. Even though you can't stand Seokjin, you really like his girlfriend. She is always kind, and never indulge in the the hate fest. She must see something in your brother that you're blind to, because she seems completely enamored with Seokjin as she leans into him, laughing.

The food comes quickly, and Hoseok removes his hand from yours so he can be able to eat, leaving you feeling cold. Stuffing your face seems like the best way to avoid having to speak, and so you dive in. Hoseok, on the other hand, savors every bite like it's his last meal.

"These oysters are too good," Hoseok practically moans, setting your whole body on fire.

"So, Hoseok," you mum says, drawing the attention of the whole table. "Did you know you're the first boyfriend _____ introduces us to?"

"I heard a little rumor about that, yes." You think you can see a fait blush on his neck, but attribute it to the lighting.

"What do you think, did the problem lay with us, or is she just picky?" You mum puts him on the spot then.

"Definitely the weirdo over there," Seokjin nods his head towards you, and you roll your eyes.

"As far as I'm aware," Hoseok says loudly, sending a wide smile towards your brother, "the problem isn't around this table, but rather out there. My guess is she didn't deem them good enough to bring home."

Seokjin snorts. "And you are?"

"He is," you say, glaring at your brother. If he wasn't sitting so far away, you would kick him under the table. Picking on you is one thing, but to be like that to someone innocent you bring for them to meet? That's too low, even for Seokjin.

"Oh I don´t know about that." Hoseok shakes his head, sending you a calm smile.

"Do you have any siblings, Hoseok?" Sienna interferes.

"I have an older sister. She's married now, so technically I have a brother as well?"

"What about your parents?" your dad asks.

"They're living in a nearby small town. I don't get to see them as often as I'd like, but it's fine with the technology we have today. They're nothing compared to you, though. I have heard some quite impressive things," he says, eyeing your mother. "I think I should ask your autograph after dinner." Your mum flushes, her laugh high pitched.

"You're flattering me! I'm nothing - at least not anymore."

"Don't be modest, mum," Seokjin mutters, his lips around his glass. "I remember some of those dinners when we were younger."

"You were quite the catch, my dear," you dad says, kissing your mum´s hand.

Some more meaningless conversation follows. The weather, the company and the promotion for your brother. You only sit and watch, glancing at Hoseok every so often, always catching him with a smile. Then, the einevitable happens - you're brought up again.

"Hoseok?" Seokjin asks quietly, gaining your attention, but not your parents´ attention. "Tell me, why my sister?"

"What…?" Hoseok is clearly a little startled. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you want her? I'm sorry to say, but she doesn't seem to be on your… level." This is the moment, you think. This is the moment where every little thing you have done wrong in your life comes back to you.

"What's not to like?" Hoseok asks your brother directly, his smile gone now. You could kiss Hoseok, honestly.

"_____ tells us you're at the top of your class, Hoseok" you dad says suddenly, not having heard your conversation. "Maybe you should tutor her. Help her raise her grade a little bit," he suggest. The worst thing is, you can tell he is genuine in his suggestion. There isn't anything mean about it, he just wants you to become better. However, coming from him, directed at your pretend boyfriend, it's horrifying. You're embarrassed, and you really wish you could burst into flames. No, you really wish you could have a moment to cry.

Hoseok´s smile fades again, and you grab his hand to tell him it's ok. His smile returns. "What do you think," Hoseok turns to you, smiling kindly.

"Some help would be great," you grit out.

"There you go! Maybe things will get a little easier now," your dad smiles, raising his glass. "I didn't know what type of man you could find for yourself, but Hoseok seems like a good man."

Using all your strength to hold yourself back from doing something you'll regret, you stand up and excuse yourself to the bathroom. First Seokjin, then your dad? You must have done something horrible to deserve this.

And you know that leaving Hoseok alone is a pretty shitty thing to do, but it's better than staying here and crying in front of everyone. Walking in the opposite direction is the only thing you feel is right, and so you do. Your eyes land on a bathroom sign, the arrow pointing in the direction you just came from. Great. Instead of turning around, you notice the bar. The universe is telling something, isn't it?

You order two shots. As you wait you focus on anything other than this moment right here: butterflies; your favorite song; the book you just read; a kiss goodbye. Finally you feel stable enough in your emotions, and down the shots. Then, you finally make your way back to the table of hell. As you approach, Hoseok turns in his seat, clearly waiting for your return. He stands up, analyzing you now. You manage to give him a smile, which he returns tenth folds.

Leaning in, he presses his lips to your temple. "Say the word and I'll make up an excuse and get us out of here."

When he breaks away, you give him a pointed look, and he nods.

"Actually," Hoseok turns to the table with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry to cut this meeting short, but my sister just texted me; she needs the car. Apparently it's a work emergency. It was really nice meeting you all, and thank you so much for dinner," he says, walking around the table. You mum is frowning, but stands up and engulfs him in a hug. Hoseok shakes your dad's and Seokjin´s hand before receiving a hug from Sienna as well. "I hope we get to do this again soon."

"Thanks for dinner, see you later," you say, grabbing Hoseok´s hand and walk out of the restaurant as quickly as your feet will take you.

Once in the car, you let out a heavy breath. It wasn't great, but you have to remind yourself that it could have been so much worse. You could have actually cried…

With some embarrassment lingering, you sink down in the car, covering your face. "I'm so sorry for leaving you, and I'm so sorry for everything they said."

"It's fine."

"No, it's really wasn't. I should-"

Hoseok cuts you off. "It's fine. I'm not the one who should receive an apology after that dinner."

Hoseok starts the car and drives off. For a while it's silent, the two of taking in what just happened.

"Is it always like this?"

"I have a name for it: hate fest," you try and lighten the mood, to no avail. "When I tell my friends about it, I don't think they actually understand how bad it is."

"How can they? Even I didn't think it would like that," Hoseok tells you.

"Sorry I brought you."

"Can I say something? It might be out of line…" You nod, but Hoseok catches it. "You should stand up for yourself. No one should treat you like that, especially your own family."

"I'm the worst one in the family, they're just disappointed in me." You really don't know why you're making excuses for them.

"Doesn't matter, they didn't show you any kindness. Anyway, it's up to you." Hoseok shrugs. He stops at a red light and turns to you. "Do you have to go home right away, or do you have two hours to spare?"

"What for?"

"My grandma used to take me to the cinema when I felt down. Thought it might help cheer you up, only if you're up for it."

You watch him, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. Usually you have to be the one to reach out and ask for company when you're down. Hoseok wanting to this for you feels foreign, but just the thought of it lightens your mood.

"Yes please," you say. "That would be nice."

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in an almost empty cinema, the movie playing. You wonder how much Hoseok planed for this, because currently playing is one of the saddest movies you have watched. Ever since in the middle of the movie, you have been crying your eyes out, letting out emotions you didn't even know you had. It would be embarrassing if Hoseok could see you, but in the darkness, you're sure he can't see you. After the movie - and the much needed cry session - ended, you dry your tears on the sleeve as Hoseok conveniently turns away to collect the wrappers from the snacks he purchased. Together the two of you make your way outside, the world now turned dark.

"Thank you for that," you say once in the car.

"I hope you're feeling better."

"All thanks to you."

For the rest of the ride you stay silent, only watching as you drive past your hometown. Once at your apartment, Hoseok follows you all the way to your front door, where you once again turn to each other, Hoseok sending you a warm smile. How many of those does he have? "Let me know if you need anything, alright? You have my number."

You nod.

"How could I ever repay you?" you ask, to which Hoseok wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you tight. You melt in his embrace, sighing contently. It feels like eternity, but at the same time it feels like only a second has gone by. Surrounded by the smell of Hoseok, your feelings have nowhere to go. The urge to have his lips on your resurfaces, strengthened by all he has done for you today. Every little touch, every little act of service comes to your mind, and it's almost as if your heart sings out for him, drawing your whole body with it. When Hoseok lets you go, the look on his face tells you everything. He is feeling everything you are. Still, he step away slowly, almost as if it pains him.

"I better go," he whispers. You don't want him to go. You want to have everything he has to give you. Anything… Stay, you almost say. Before you can muster the courage, he walks away.

"Fuck it," you whisper to yourself and walk after him. "Hoseok?" You call softly, making him turn around. Before you can change your mind, you stand on your tippy-toes, bring your hand to his cheek and press you lips to his. It's firmer than last night, and you can feel so much more of his lips. A second passes before Hoseok reacts, him pulling you closer. Then it's over, and all you see is his bright smile. "Good night, Hoseok."

This time you're the one walking away, and in the glass door you see him watching you, a goofy smile still on his face.

#bts fanfic #Jung Hoseok #Hosoek #bts jhs #Hoseok ff #Jung Hoseok fanfic #Min Yoongi #Yoongi #bts myg #Min Yoongi ff #Min Yoongi fanfic #Yoongi ff #Yoongi fanfic #Jung Hoseok ff #Hoseok fanfic #Fake dating #Jungkook #bts jjk #Jeon Jungkook

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apotatomashedbybts · 1 year

Text

What am I even doing? Oh my Lord (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Am I done halfway at least? Lol. It's just the beginning...

#potato rambles #potato fic facts #fic: all tints of you & me #myg #min yoongi ff

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back2bluesidex · 7 months

Note

The great war will make a good ff too (maybe Yoongi?)

Great War - MYG

Pairing: idol!Yoongi X Reader

Theme: Angst, heartbreak, break up au, lovers to exes au

Song: Great War

Word count: 862

Warnings: Best friends to lovers to exes and probably strangers. I think that's enough of a warning.

Minors and Karens Are Not Allowed in this Blog!!

A/N: This. This came from within. All I can say is that.. I have been in the place of Yoongi (in this drabble), so this little piece became very personal to me. Thanks for the request and I hope you like it.

“Let’s break up.” your words buzz loudly in the otherwise silent room. The darkness seems to intensify as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth. Your voice is barely audible but you know he heard it loud and clear.

You hear him sighing. You know he has seen it coming, after all, he is your best friend. He knows you the best. He knows when, what goes inside your head. So, he knew your relationship was approaching the end.

“Can I ask you why?” Yoongi asks quietly. You can hear something akin to disappointment lingering in his voice.

You attempt to answer through your already choked voice, “You know why-”

“I am not asking you why we are breaking up. I am asking you why did you accept me in the first place if you were going to end this?” Yoongi cuts you off. His voice raises gradually and becomes a scream by the time the sentence ends.

He is sitting straight now, facing you, staring at you with eyes full of tears and anguish.

“Because I love you. And I thought we could make it work.” your tongue dirts out and moist your lips. You feel your entire world spiraling down and eventually breaking in front of your eyes. It’s so bad that you can’t do anything about it. But it is even worse that you are the one to wreck it yourself.

“And we did make it work, Y/N. We went through all of these hurdles together. We have been through this great war together. Then why now? What’s wrong?” Yoongi grabs your arms and hoists you up from the couch. You stare at him.

He looks beautiful. He emits a light and brightens up everything around him, except for you. Because you, yourself, is darkness.

“I can’t do this anymore, Yoongi.” You sob, “I can’t take this. I can’t pretend that I am all fine when you leave me here alone for months after months. I can’t pretend I am all fine when I see you being shipped with a new actress or idol everyday on twitter. I can’t pretend to sleep night after night when you prioritize your work over the miniscule time we could spend just by sleeping side by side. I just- can’t. I need much more than you can offer. I am selfish.”

“You knew things would be like this, didn’t you? I told you dating me would not be easy. We- we reached for each other's hand through everything, Y/N. don’t turn your back on me now.” he shakes you violently.

“Wrong. You are wrong, Yoongi. You are the one to reach for my hands throughout the great war. But I- you were hardly ever there for me. I closed the curtains and drank poison all alone while you sang and danced on the stage.” You break free from Yoongi’s hold.

“You could have reached out to me. You know I would be there whenever possible.” Tears stream down Yoongi’s face. It hurts you to see him like this but you have no choice left, not when your own heart is tearing apart.

“I thought so. But the sweet dream was over and I realized reaching out to my idol boyfriend would not be that easy. Every time I had called you, it either went on voice mail or your managers picked up asking me to call you later. Was it supposed to be like that? Tell me, was it?” You sniff.

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I promise I will be better. Please give me another chance. Give us another chance.” Yoongi’s voice is now drenched in a plea.

“I am sorry, too, Yoongi. I am sorry that I could not fight for us anymore. I am tired and I need to rest now. But I-” You gulp “I can’t afford to lose you. Can we go back to what we were? Can we go back to being best friends?”

You look up at him expectantly but you see his eyes flaring. There is anger, disappointment, betrayal, pain and a little bit of haterade for you.

“No we can’t. If you walk out of this door now, you will lose me forever. Or- or you can stay and we will make this work together… again.”

You want to laugh at his face. There is no ‘together’ in this one-sided relationship and he needs to understand that sooner or later.

“No, Yoongi. I fear I need to give up now.” You stand up taking your purse with you. Trudging towards the studio door, you hold the knob, ready to walk out, ready to run away for once and forever.

“We may not survive this war but… I will always be yours in one shape or another. I will always be yours, Yoongi.” and with that Yoongi’s studio door shuts tight, trapping him inside an unforgiving loop of pain and heartbreak.

He knew he was slowly losing you, but he stayed reluctant thinking you might need some time to jump back into his embrace.

He was wrong and now he is too late to hold your hands and survive through this great war.

#bts angst #yoongi angst #suga angst #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts scenario #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #bts drabble #bts

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emerald-notes · 9 months

Text

My Guardian Angel - Part 3 (Final)

Fandom: BTS Paring: Min Yoongi x Female Reader Genre: Angst Warning: Age gap, mc being a brat, traumatic past, mention of abusive household, a little depressing, I’m sorry it ended this way. Word Count: 2k Words Note: Since the reader is only 15 years old, I reduced Yoongi’s age to be 22. Please keep the age gap in mind before diving in to read. I must say there is nothing explicit in here.

Summary: When things are bound to fall apart, You find out how powerless you are to the destiny...

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 [Complete]

*************************************************

I was beyond angry. Yoongi just informed me that today was the last day in town for me till next month. He was going to be working on the weekends as well with only a day off per month. That meant, no more coming to the town for grocery shopping.

"But I won't forget to buy you a present, kitten. Also you can buy more than one thing when you're coming to the store yourself once a month."

"I don't want your stupid gifts." I angrily said, "I want you. At least, on a weekend."

"Kitten," Yoongi sighed, unable to deal with my raging state, "I'm sorry. You see, it's not something that I can control."

"Fine." I yelled, "get out of my sight. I'm not going home with you."

"Kitten…" He tried to speak but was interrupted by a lady.

"Is everything alright, dear?" The question was directed toward me.

"Yeah, everything's fine. We're just having a discussion. Thank you." Yoongi dismissed her concerns which seemed to be irritating her somehow.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked me again. When I nodded my head the lady further asked, "Who is he? Do you know him?"

"Excuse me!" Yoongi said, "I don't see why you need to know that."

The lady still asked me without bothering to look at him, "is he threatening you?"

"What?" was Yoongi's reply.

I shook my head. Then, the lady turned to Yoongi and said, "Sir, I'm very concerned about this child. Please state your relationship to her."

"That's none of your business." Yoongi answered bitterly. He grabbed my wrist and walked straight to our car.

"Sir…" the lady called from behind but we simply speeded our walk and got in the car.

I wanted to apologize for reacting like that in the store earlier and for gaining unwanted attention. Somehow I couldn't manage to do it as I felt a growing lump on my throat.

Yoongi, on the other hand, looked disturbed. I wasn't sure if it was because of the lady or myself.

In the evening, I sat on the bed while Shelby lay beside me. She stayed too quiet as if she understood the dull atmosphere of the house. I ran my hand through her. She moved closer to me and relaxed in a more comfortable position.

Yoongi was cooking outside. I dared not to go to him at the moment. I felt that something wrong was going to happen and I dreaded its arrival. I tried to plan the best way I could apologize to lift his mood. After all, it was my fault that the day went to ruin.

Then I heard a car being pulled up outside. I froze.

Could it be…

I peeked through the window and got a glance of a police car. “Why are the police here?” I thought to myself. Unconsciously I started biting my nails.

I could sense that Yoongi was talking to them outside. A dull ache was twisting within my stomach.

After a few minutes, Yoongi came inside, his face unreadable. He spoke quietly, “Kitten, you need to come out for a moment. Here’s an officer to meet you. Please talk to him nicely.”

I nodded slowly and, almost in daze, walked outside. The man in a police uniform greeted me. He asked me to sit down. After we’re both seated at the patio, the officer asked Yoongi to leave us alone.

“No!” I immediately opposed it. “He’ll stay.”

Yoongi said, “I won’t interrupt, sir. I’ll just stay beside her so that she doesn’t feel too nervous about this whole situation.”

The officer nodded and turned to me. He said that he had to ask me some questions and I was required to answer them honestly. I needed not to be scared. When I approved, he proceeded to ask me where I came from, who was my guardian, what happened that made me run away from home, how I met Yoongi, how long had I been living with him, if I considered him to be a dangerous man etc.

I answered him truthfully. I told him how abusive of a man my step father was. I told him all the evil things he had done to me. I told him how my life was a living hell before I met Yoongi.

Every now and then, whenever I faltered in between, Yoongi would softly squeeze my hand. It was hard for me to bring up the nasty past. But I had to do it. I had to convince the police that it was my own decision that I ran away and still my own that I stayed with him.

Finally, the police said that I could go. Yoongi took me inside and whispered to me, “you did bravely, kitten.”

Then, he went out to have a last chat with the police. I waited patiently and prayed that the man would leave us soon.

The man, to my horror, did not leave us soon. In fact they were talking for so long that my anxiety got the best of me and I had to eavesdrop from inside the door.

Luckily, they were talking loudly enough for me to hear them. Unluckily, it sounded as if they were arguing over something.

Yoongi's voice was deadly, something I never heard before, "you heard everything!"

"I know, I know," the officer spoke in a frustrated manner, "But what you're asking is against the law. I can even arrest you right now for keeping her for so long without any legal rights over her."

"Will you?" It wasn't even a question. Yoongi said it as if he knew the police won't do that.

"Yoongi," the man spoke softly, "I know you very well. I know what you've been through. I also know from how you're treating her that you truly care for her. I still ask you to give it a rational thought. She doesn't belong here."

"What do you mean by here?" Yoongi argues further, "she clearly loves this place."

"She might love the place. I only meant she doesn't belong with you. She deserves a family."

Yoongi looked him dead in the eye and said, "I'm not letting her go back to that monster, you hear me!"

At this point, I was really getting scared. I didn't know if it was because of the idea that I might have to go back to my stepfather or about the fact that Yoongi was so mad, which was really unlikely of him.

"I assure you. She's never going to see him again. We're gonna call the social service. They'll arrange a nice Foster home for her."

"Oh, shut up!" Yoongi retorted, "I know how those Foster systems work. She might never be adopted. Especially at this age."

"At least, she'll have a chance for a real family. This is only for her own good."

"I don't trust anyone."

"You know you're only saying that because you don't want to lose her, right?"

Something about this confrontation with the police made Yoongi go silent. He didn't reply. It neither looked like he's going to argue any longer.

After the brief moment of silence, it almost took my utmost willpower to stay put at my place and not run straight to them begging Yoongi to say something in my favor, the police finally spoke.

"I'll give you tonight to say a proper goodbye. But I'm coming back tomorrow, along with the social service. I hope you won't resist, then. Otherwise, you're gonna be in trouble, I tell you."

The man finally left without waiting for a reply.

"I heard everything." I said after waiting for a minute for Yoongi to settle in bed. When he looked like he wasn't going to say anything back, I proceeded further. "I'm sorry I made a scene at the shop. I know it's all my fault. Oppa, please, don’t stay mad at me."

Yoongi finally looked back at me and said, "rules are rules. I don't have any control over this situation. They're gonna be here tomorrow and you'll have to go."

"Oppa!" I yelled at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was giving up on me. He wasn't fighting to keep me anymore.

On the verge of tears, I asked, "Are you punishing me for what I did earlier?"

"No!" Yoongi stood up from the bed and came towards me, "You know, I'll never punish you for anything."

"Then, why are you doing this to me?"

"It's for your own good, kitten. Out there, you can at least dream for a new home. A new family. Here, you have nothing to even dream about."

"But you are my home."

I took a step forward and rested my head on his chest. "You're the best thing that I can ever wish for. You are my only family."

Yoongi slowly shook his head. He pushed me away by holding me by the shoulders. He made me look into his eyes and spoke very politely.

"It wasn't me who saved you but the other way around. You showed me everything that my life was lacking. Thanks to you, I felt like I truly lived. No, kitten. I can't be so selfish to keep you in this boring life of mine and take advantage of you like that. You deserve a chance in life. Unlike mine, you have a whole future ahead of you."

I couldn't understand what was going on. How suddenly everything changed in Yoongi. How willingly he was pushing me away.

"But I don't want to go."

"You're too young to understand that."

As I opened my mouth to argue further, Yoongi shook his head to shut me up. He said, "please, kitten, I want you to do better than this. I'm tired. I'm going out for a drink. Sleep tight till tomorrow."

Then, he went out with a bottle of whisky in his hand. I wasn't allowed to leave my room when he drank out on the patio. So, like always, I stayed inside. I stayed and cried. I cried on my pillow throughout the night till sleep took over my messy mind.

The next morning, we didn't talk much. We were just busy packing my bag. At one point, Yoongi came up to me with his guitar and said, "Since you love it so much, I want you to keep it."

I didn't say that the reason I loved the guitar so much was because he played it. I loved the fact that he played the guitar for me whenever I asked him to.

I decided to leave behind the little fox plushie. So Yoongi could have something to look at whenever he thought of me.

When I saw the car approaching from far away, I felt like I would break down anytime and cry. Surprisingly that didn't happen.

I scratched behind Shelby's ear and gave her the last piece of treat. I hugged Yoongi for the last time too. After that, without a fight I climbed inside the car.

As we were driving away, I thought I would take a good look for the last time at the place I called my first home. The place looked hauntingly empty. I looked at the familiar window, the front patio, our jeep, trying to take in as much as I could.

My eyes finally stopped at Yoongi. His head was bending towards his feet so that I couldn't make out his face. I noticed that his shoulders were shaking.

I didn't need to try. Tears automatically flowed through my cheeks. All this time I had been at my worst, Yoongi was always there beside me, offering the warmth that I just needed. And the one time of him being vulnerable, I couldn't be there beside him, offering the same warmth that he had given me.

Special 8 Photo-folio Masterlist

My Personal Masterlist

Tag List: @idkjustlovingbts, @lisabyers, @a-sweetdreamywoman, @yoongsexual, @tatakaee, @borareadsfic, @sailorjoonies, @futuresoffantasies,

Feel free to let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list...

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alphabetboyluvr · 8 months

Text

HUSH | MYG - SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

Welcome to Hush. We're the dating app that brings it all back; Y2K style. Forget catfishes, filters, and facetune - It's all about 'ASL?', character limits, and screaming into your pillow at 4am, after finaaaaally sending that goodnight text to your crush. Hush is the place to share your secrets. You're anonymous until you choose not to be - so what are you waiting for?! Go forth and multiply, Hush hottie! And by multiply, we mean your Hush crushes, of course! Hush users that match your preferences will automatically be added to your very own Secret Circle. We do the hard work for you (you're welcome), but it's up to you to turn your Hush crush into a secret worth keeping. Our lips are sealed, so yours don't have to be.

genre / tropes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean... a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you're jin's sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he's sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it's cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

wordcount: x (will be somewhere between 80-120k)

soundtrack: x

start date: 2023.08.31 (originally posted early 2022)

minors dni // originally posted to wattpad

NOTE FROM HOLLY // hush is uploaded to wattpad in shorter chapters that i then combine for updates on tumblr (as are most of my fics!!)

CONTEXT // pls read these before the story

THE SCOUTS - meet the band HUSH - meet the app

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

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haeggi · 10 months

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the gift and the gifted | myg ✓

➔ pairing: top student!yoongi × top student!reader

➔ genres/warnings: highschool!au, christmas!au, holiday!au, romcom!au, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, suggestive themes (but there's no smut, woops), also yoongi wears glasses bc my babie is so cute and hot when he wears one, lots of cussing prolly, some jokes may be offensive, reader and yoongi basically wants to strangle each other's necks bc yes.

➔ word count: 12.9k

➔ synopsis: you were always at the top; girls envied you and they aspired to be like you, and you got guys swooning at your feet. but there was always a particular individual who followed your footsteps. min yoongi. everywhere you were, he always shadowed you. he always came in second to you, and just like you, he also had become the primary cause of ladies getting diagnosed with erotomanias (metaphorically, of course). but everything crashes downhill when your roles are suddenly switched; he ends up at the top, and you below him. how messed up could that be?

or alternatively, christmas was just around the corner, and all it takes are the midterms (which will be a piece of cake to you) before the semester ends. however, the christmas news you receive that year was one of the worst gifts yet. let's say, it went catastrophic because the gift came in the form of min yoongi, your biggest rival.

notes: this is my first ever tumblr ff ajshssk. it's raw and unedited, so expect a lot of grammar mistakes.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

According to statistics of an unknown source, a lot of experts believe that the global population is composed of between 2% to 6% of gifted children. Such child prodigies are blessed with naturally high inborn intelligence. They perform significantly at complex levels compared to peers.

You belonged in the 2 to 6% of that category. At the fresh age of two, you were able to read novels that are typically for adolescents. You also already knew how to write children stories, your imaginations constantly spreading as if you were using a hex in your mind, expanding your thoughts into a whole new wide level.

Yes, that was indeed a Marvel reference.

Oh, you started watching the series by the time you were three, by the way. Whenever your parents kissed you goodbye to report to their jobs, you would bake pancakes while standing on a stool because you were still too tiny to reach the top of the kitchen counter. Afterwards, you would waddle into the living room, turn on the TV, and bask into a three-hour Marvel movie.

You would also laugh at the adult jokes that were made that even most adolescents wouldn't get, yet there you were, being a couch potato, sipping on maple syrups while giggling at the scenes.

And by the time you were four, you knew all your basic math. You could also spell complicated words already such as pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (man, I literally had to copy-paste that from Google, smh). You also have memorized all the countries of Asia and Europe, and the parts of the human's and plants' cells—not just the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell basic and overused shit.

But most importantly, you definitely had attitude problems. You had a blunt tongue and a sharp wit.

"I don't want to go to school," your five-year-old-self whined burying your small head further into the pillow. "I don't need to," you add, muffled.

"Honey," your mother sighed, inviting herself in your bedroom. She knew how much you despised it whenever someone crossed your personal space, yet you were too whine-y to even fight your mother. "I know that, but you still need to. The world is too big for everything to fit in your brain—"

"Are you calling me small?" you grimaced, exhuming your head from the pillow and whipping it at your mom's direction. "Mom, you know how much I'm sensitive when it comes to my height!"

"Yes, dear, I apologize—"

"I don't wanna hear it, mom! My decision is final, I don't wanna go to kindergarten!" you yelled, albeit your voice was muffled because you stuffed your face into your pillow again.

"Kindergarten?" your mother repeated. "Y/N, I never said anything about enrolling you to kindergarten. I was planning to apply for your acceleration for elementary—"

"Mmmooommmm!" you groaned, almost sounding like a wolf, but to your beloved mother, you just sounded like a pup. "Leave me alone, please! I know my geometry, I can solve the area of a rectangle, a square, a decagon. Even a gazillion-gon or whatever! And I know how to use similes, metaphors, hyperboles, and ironies!"

"Clearly," your mother muttered under her breath. "With how sharp your tongue is, I'm not even surprised."

The woman flinched when a soft piece of fluff landed before her feet. It was one of your stuff toys, Mr. Bear-able.

She resisted the urge to massage her temples, catching what her daughter was implying. "Alright, fine. I'll leave you alone. But if you ever change your mind, tell me."

"I don't do do overs, mom," you retorted, suddenly having the appetite to get out of bed. You waddle towards your desk, plopping on the seat with your back turned to your mother. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a lot to do."

"Of course," your mother responded. "Come down for dinner at seven. Don't. Be. Late," she warned.

"Yes, mother," you stressed the last word.

Hearing the door shut close, you released a sigh of relief, finally grateful for the time of peace.

But, unfortunately, for gifted children, peace was a state they rarely achieved.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Ten years later, you are now enduring the third year of high school. And ten years ago, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't step foot into a school. Ever. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway, flooded with lots of people your age. Jocks and cheerleaders mostly flocked the lockers, some of which are busy slamming each other against each one, their faces all over each other.

It was a disgusting sight to you, but you are used to it now. You know not to pry into their business and scream at them to stop the eff out. One, because you were simply lazy—or rather, conserving energy is the right term. Second, they weren't worth your precious time.

Yes, it was your third year in high school, but also it was only your third time attending school because for the last seven years, you had been cooped up within the four walls of your bedroom. You never stepped foot out the door, except when you ate. You were either sleeping, writing, or just aimlessly scrolling on Twitter and Tiktok.

It had gotten to the point where your mother barged into the room with your father following her like a lost puppy, because he didn't want to deal with you because he was either 1) really, really afraid of you or 2) he just didn't really want to deal with an untamed animal that was in the form of you. Yet, he followed your mother to your room because 1) he was definitely still more afraid of his wife more than of his daughter and 2) he probably wants to witness your demise.

And you did get your demise. You got an earful from your mother. She had confiscated your phone, pulled you out of your room and locked the door. She was getting sick of you acting around as if you were the boss. As if you were the adult.

Yeah, you definitely had (still have, by the way) attitude problems.

And the only condition that your mother had so that you could gain access back to your room and phone is if you enrolled at school, got a degree, and a decent job.

So here you were, in the very hellhole you didn't want to end up in.

On the bright side, you are still a gifted child, and hell did you demolished everyone in your path. Academically, of course. Consistently, you were the overall top one of your batch from first year to second year. You were always the top scorer in examinations. You were also literally destroying your teachers' careers, which basically made almost everyone love you. Almost.

You got guys begging for your attention, wanting to take you out on dates. You also got girls envying you, wanting to be you. And also, of course, you had haters.

And most significantly, you had competition.

He was always there, wherever you were. You were on the list of top scorers, and underneath your name, just right next to it, was his name printed. You were the overall top one, and below you, just beside you, was his name written.

You were the first, and he always came in second.

Your eyes were literally burning in crimson when you saw him entering your line of sight. His jet black hair was neatly styled as usual, his pale skin was glowing underneath the fluorescent lights, his eyes were adorned with round-rimmed glasses, accentuating his clever ambience further.

It made your blood boil; the way he was just calmly walking through the crowd of students. He didn't even make an effort passing through the bodies because people made way for him. Of course, they would. He is the fucking student council president, for hell's sake!

Your arms are crossed, still staring him down as he greeted and bowed to those who smiled at him. Oh, how badly you wanted to rip his mouth off of his face and smack it to the first girl you see because she would definitely pay you at least ten years worth of your life, then you can finally ditch school, maybe disappear off the surface of the map and enjoy a life of solitude in probably an abandoned island, sipping on mojito, or maybe the mountains to enjoy the fresh air of nature because the air down there smelled like pieces of shit—

"Y/N," he singsongs, his gravelly voice reaching your ears.

You didn't notice that you had been standing at the middle of the hallway for quite a long time now because he, along with a few of the other student council members trailing behind him, was now in front of you. You notice everyone's eyes are on you two. Everyone knew of the rivalry you two have. And you also knew that they are totally anticipating a war to happen.

"Yoongi," you say, your tone honeyed with a hint of passive-aggressiveness.

"How was your weekend?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Oh, he is definitely enjoying the attention. Just so you wait, I will rip your fakeass smile—

"It was okay!" you chirp, faking a laugh. "I hope yours was too."

Yoongi hums, fixing his glasses that had slightly slid down, exposing his feline eyes for a fleeting moment. "Fortunately, it went more than okay to me," he says with a pompous smile.

Your verbose response is a forced smile, hoping that he will take the hint that he will leave you alone now, because you knew what he was referencing to. The recent weekend, both of your families had dinner together. Unfortunately for you, your parents and his parents are very well-acquainted with each other. Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and Mr. and Mrs. Min's relationship was founded through a business partnership. Despite that, the relationship between the four adults ensued into a deeper level.

Alas, the same couldn't be said with the two offsprings. While their parents considered each other close friends, you and Yoongi acknowledged the other as each other's nemesis.

Everything between you and him always ended up to become a competition. A competition to see who gets on the other's nerves the quicker.

That was why on that particular Saturday night, in a fancy restaurant booked by Yoongi's parents, underneath the rectangular marbled table, you used the advantage of wearing heels that time to sink one of your stilettos on one of his leather shoes when he taunted you. Afterwards, he made a scene, instantly pointing a finger at you when his mother worriedly asked what happened. You promptly defended yourself, saying that it was an accident and that you didn't notice his foot immediately. Then, your beloved mother scolded you in front of them to be more careful because it was bad manners; and that you should act like a proper lady in a five-star Michelin restaurant.

Luckily, he starts to leave you, but only after making up an excuse. "Well, I'm a bit late with my duties, I can't waste time any longer. So, I'll see you later."

He attempts to walk past you, but you had enough time to recover from his pettish outro. As he takes the first steps, you mislead him by moving aside. Then, you slide your foot forwards, miniscule. You watch as his own bumps into yours and in a span of a second, he trips, albeit he regains his balance quickly to your dismay. You almost pouted since he didn't meet the floor with his face.

His calm composure cracks a tiny bit, his eye twitching as he looks at you, his expression now displaying irk. He expected everyone else to look at you as if you were the culprit, but unfortunately, for his part, no one noticed because it is too crowded in the hallway for anyone to catch what you did. Instead, they all had their gazes at him. Some of them awkwardly smiled, while others began to whisper.

Nevertheless, Yoongi ignores them. He stands up straight, fixing the collar of his shirt before waltzing away with his group trailing behind. Unlike earlier, he was tramping, eager to flee the scene and rendering you into a fit of hushed and inconspicuous giggles.

Not today, Snow White. Not today.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You are stuck in another hour of a boring lesson. You lazily spin a pencil around your fingers, with one hand supporting the weight of your chin as you stare outside the window of your classroom, observing the varsity soccer players attempting to score goals.

You unconsciously snicker when one of the players falls on the grass, catching the attention of your math teacher. It took two calls of your name before you faced her, scowling when she says, "Since you seem so confident, not listening to my discussion, will you please be so kind to solve this on the board?"

You raise an eyebrow, looking at her as if saying 'Are you serious?' The teacher doesn't falter, however, and you sigh vexatiously, standing up from your seat and idly ambling across the aisle. You feel the stares of your classmates piercing at your back but you don't waver. Upon reaching the front, you take the marker from your teacher, whose face was still etched into a frown at the behavior you are showing.

You solve the polynomial equation with ease, not even pausing to think. And when you encircled your final answer and turned to return your teacher's marker, she was gaping at you. Smirking in victory, she tells you to return to your seat. And for the rest of the lecture, she doesn't bother you anymore.

After school, you went straight out of the campus, as if the air inside the building had been suffocating you that you even release a long sigh of relief. Frankly, you thought that you had wasted another day because you didn't learn anything new from any of your subjects. All that was discussed, you already know those concepts since you were ten years old.

And now, you wanted to throw a tantrum at your mother when you get home.

You head for the gates of the campus, and as if you didn't have enough on your plate, a car comes revving near you, and before you knew it, it blocks your path, making you abruptly halt your steps. You instantly recognize the model of the vehicle. The driver's door opens and a familiar black bob of hair is revealed. You don't even try to hide your irritation when Yoongi approaches you.

"Get in the car," he demands, opening the passenger door right in front of you.

You don't listen. Instead, you comment, "Nice calculations there. Which theorem did you apply that made the passenger's door end up in front of my face? Show me your scratch papers."

He rolls his eyes, clearly not having your shit. "My mom called me and told me that your mom told her to tell me that I'm dropping you off at your house because your mom is worried that you'll be off somewhere else again and cause trouble, so she wants to make sure that you're not going to do anything stupid again—"

"Hold your horses, Eminem." You flail your hands in front of him. "First of all, drop the your mom tongue twister. Second, I'm not coming with you. Who knows? You might be plotting my death. And third, stop talking to me because people might think that we're friends."

Without waiting for Yoongi's response, you swaggered around his Hyundai Sonata, heading for the campus gates. Relief washes over you when you don't hear the annoying honking of his car. He had left you alone for now.

Besides, how worse could your day get any further?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Your bag drops to the floor once you have registered the sight of your mother guffawing at a joke he said. They were both too occupied in their conversation that they only sensed your presence when you make a beeline for the stairs.

"Y/N," your mother calls, and you stop in your tracks, one foot mid-air. You curse lowly, not being able to even make it for the first tread.

You put on the fakest smile you could muster, making sure that it was discernible that you didn't want to have to do anything with the two most exasperating persons in the room.

"Aren't you gonna join Yoongi and I for snacks?" she says, rendering you to fist your hand. It took a lot of strength from you not to swing a punch at the said male. He was clearly enjoying this. He absolutely knew that you were getting reprimanded again once he leaves the premise.

Your smile twitches, almost cracking but you stay firm. "Sure, I will. Mother." You deliberately stressed the last word. A warning gaze is given to you by your mother.

Smirking lightly, you don't tiptoe anymore, seeing that it was useless. You pull the chair across where Yoongi sat, purposely making the wood screech against the floor. Your mother winces slightly that made you smile triumphantly.

As if nothing had transpired, your mother began to speak. "So, Yoongi here told me that you refused to get a lift from him. You do know that that's basic manners."

"Yes, and you told me not to accept anything from strangers," you deadpan. Your mother's eyes widen in horror, instantly sending Yoongi an apologetic gaze.

"Oh, Yoongi, I'm so sorry about my daughter. I think she meant that she didn't want to a burden to you."

Yoongi waves his hand, a cheeky smile painted on his lips. "It's alright, Mrs. L/N. I get what you mean. I absolutely understand where Y/N is coming from."

Your head was beginning to ache from the exchange that was occurring between the two people you weren't entirely fond of. Before your mother could respond to your nemesis, you cut in.

"Why is he even here, mom?" you demand. Your mother chuckles awkwardly, looking back and forth between you and your enemy.

"Well," she starts. "Your midterms are nearing alongside the weather that is starting to cool off. I invited Yoongi so that you two could study together and maybe consider this as a bonding moment for the two of you—"

You don't let her finish, abruptly standing up from your seat, already shooting daggers at the woman who birthed you.

"Mom, I don't need a study buddy. I can clearly study fine on my own. In fact, I don't need to because I know everything and I assure you that I will ace my midterms just like I've had for the past two years."

Mrs. L/N frowns at your response. "Y/N, if you please, will you stop with the bratty attitude? We have a guest and the least you can do is act accordingly!"

You are certain that your blood had reached its boiling point. "No!" you raise your tone, unbothered by the fact that your rival is literally witnessing the argument that is transpiring right now. What irked you more was that he is probably enjoying the scene unfolding before him. "You're just doing all of these because you know how much I despite it! I hate it, mom. And I absolutely harbor all of the ill feelings you can name towards him!" You point at Yoongi, who is calmly watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

As far as you know, only your parents knew that you loathed Yoongi. That was why you were always comfortable expressing it even in their presence. But whenever his parents were at the scene, that was when you could control your temper, and suppress your irritations, which is why now, you were exploding once again.

"Y/N—!"

"I'm not hearing it," you proclaim, already making way towards the stairs. "Chit-chat with him for all I care. Just leave me be."

You stomp upstairs, making sure you slam your bedroom door shut. Smoke was literally smothering out of yours ears and nostrils as you grabbed the nearest book you had from your shelf and throw it with all your might at the other end of your room. Then, you march towards your bed, falling on it face-first and releasing your screams, muffled by your pillows.

You are so angry and infuriated, mentally wrecking Yoongi with all the curses you could think of. After what seemed like hours of disparaging him in the form of talking to your long-time best friend, Mr. Bear-able, you feel your throat become dry. It is parched and you feel the need to gulp down a gallon of water with how much saliva you used.

Annoyed that you had to leave the comfort of your room to get a glass of water downstairs, you wonder if Yoongi had already left. You check outside, raising the blinds of your window. Then, you grimace, seeing the familiar vehicle parked in front of your house.

Why was that son of a half-troll still here?

You really didn't want to go down and see him, but your throat was literally begging for your thirst to be quenched. You try to weigh the pros and cons, with the cons definitely outweighing the former, but you were still too thirsty. It was sending you to the brim of annoyance so you had no choice but to step out of your room.

Your ears try to hear for movements and conversations, but when you don't, you thought that maybe they were in the backyard. You sigh in relief, albeit too early because when your feet touched the floor of the first floor of your house, you almost lost your balance upon seeing the devil himself standing by the stairs' handrails. The balusters did the job of concealing him because his face is already adorned with a smirk.

"Why the fuck are you here?" you demand. "Where's mom?"

"Out," Yoongi simply answers, sipping on his iced Americano.

"Why?" You cross your arms, raising an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"She felt bad about your tantrum—" he explains nonchalantly. "—so, she insisted to take-out dinner."

"Why didn't you just come with her? That would save us both the case of fighting—"

"I offered to stay and look after you in case something happens, although your mom was still really worried for me in case you might pull something against me. But I assured her that I would be fine." He blinks as if his response was a normal one.

However, you don't buy it, narrowing your eyes and taking a defiant step closer to him. "What are you scheming this time? Wasn't it enough for you that you got to witness me getting reprimanded?"

Yoongi doesn't seem affected because he stands his ground, his eyes reciprocating the determined gaze you were giving him.

He doesn't answer you, and he breaks your eye-contact, looking at something behind you.

"Hey, I asked you a question—"

"It's snowing," he cuts you off.

Mildly confused and musing a what, you turn around to check what he was looking at. And then you see the first fall of snow of the year. Immediately, you feel the chilly breeze of winter prick your skin.

Eyebrows still furrowed, you only move when Yoongi scurries off towards the heater, turning it on. After a few seconds, the cold that you instantly felt is replaced by warmth. Still, you were on edge, because Yoongi was acting really... weird.

You watch him with judgment in your eyes as he makes his way towards the dining room. That's when you see study materials sprawled on the table; Stabilo highlighters with their caps off, arrow sticky notes pasted on top of pages of the textbooks, reviewers spread all throughout the space of the table. He had been clearly studying for midterms. You were disturbed that he had shamelessly claimed territory on your dining room.

You feel the bile crawling up your throat, you are cognizantly displeased at the way Yoongi was acting. You march towards the room, where he was busy organizing his notes.

"Hey!" you squawked. "Will you stop walking around as if this is your house?! And... can you stop that? You're acting weird..." you trail off when Yoongi doesn't even snap at you. He only looks at you as if you were the strange one in the room.

You roll your eyes, opting to get your glass of water from the kitchen instead. If the damn bitch won't respond to you properly then you won't bother to waste your time.

Closing the refrigerator, with one hand holding the pitcher, you jump the second time that day, caught off-guard by your rival standing behind the door of the refrigerator.

"Jesus Christ, Yoongi!" you yell. "I will literally smack you in the face with this pitcher!"

"Huh," he muses. "That's really weird."

"What?" you say in disbelief. "Don't call me weird when between us, you're the one that's acting weird. Fucking leave me alone, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, exactly." He remains unfazed by your threats. "Strangely, I don't feel anything towards you right now."

"Of course you don't," you scoff. "You hate me. Hello? Have you suddenly become stupid or something?"

Seemingly lost in thought, Yoongi replies, "No, I mean like I literally don't feel anything right now towards you. I don't feel like I hate you right now—"

"Yes, I hear you. Now can you shut the fuck— wait what?" You pause and do a double take on what he just said.

What did he say? That he doesn't hate me right now?

"Look, I don't know what the fuck it is your scheming right now, but I just want to tell you to drop your crap, because I don't believe a single word you're uttering right now," you say, pouring water on a glass. You take a sip before resuming. "Stop saying bullshit, because I won't fall for it."

"I'm not telling you bull right now." He raises both of his hands in surrender. "Ugh, whatever. You probably have the mental capacity of a lizard for you to understand even if I explain—"

"Take that back right now," you threaten him. "Have you forgotten that you always come second to me? Don't get too cocky, you still don't know who you're messing with. It's been three years, you should know now that you can't beat me."

"Whatever you say so, Megamind." He fixes his glasses before returning to the dining room. You warily watch him go back to studying before you climb up back into your room.

Even though you were already inside, you still felt uneasy because of how peculiar Yoongi acted just a few minutes ago.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The gray cement road is replaced with the ivory snow, concealing everything underneath it. It's now the month of November, which meant that your parents are busy preparing for the holidays. That also meant that you had to help them too to your dismay.

You are sitting on your house's porch, a stick in your hand while doodling on the snow. Meanwhile, your father is occupied in attaching the Christmas lights on the gutters of your roof.

He calls your name, and you oblige. You step foot out into the snow weather, bits of frost coating your hair. You crane your neck up the ladder.

"Can you pass me the other string of lights?" he requests, pointing at the said lights sprawled on the snow. You grab it off the floor, taking the end of it. You spin it like a lasso before unleashing it towards your father, who catches it with ease. He laughs, "Nice one!"

You roll your eyes before returning to your earlier position. You begin to scribble again as your mind wanders off somewhere else.

For the past few weeks, you had noticed that something became different. And it was all because of a particular person who was supposed to be the hell of your life. Instead, it seems like he had now become pacified, and he decided that you weren't worth his time anymore.

A part of you feels extremely offended and infuriated because you feel that Yoongi doesn't see you as a menace anymore; that he was now confident that he can easily defeat you; that he doesn't see you as a competition anymore. Another of your part feels concerned and peculiar—as if something is missing. You don't feel the adrenaline pulsating through your veins anymore whenever you saw Yoongi.

When you crossed paths, he would only give you a smile of acknowledgement and then leave before you could even tell him a snarky comment.

Oddly, it was affecting you more than it should be. You were starting to think that maybe this was one of his tactics for you to get distracted. If it was, it was unfortunately working, and you were getting vexed as each day passed by.

You wanted Yoongi to lash out on you. You wanted to feel his anger radiating towards you. You wanted him to feel threatened. You wanted to be the one with the upper hand.

But instead, you were feeling none of those from him. It was rendering you to madness because even though you wanted to deny it so bad, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

And maybe, just maybe, you thought that something different was also brewing inside you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

November flew by in a blur and before you even knew it, you only had two weeks before midterms. You and your mother were busy setting up the Christmas tree. She was busy handing you the ornaments and garlands, and directing you where to place them.

"There," your mother says. "A little bit up. Nope, down. Nevermind, put it up again."

You groan in annoyance. "Mom, can you please make up your mind? My arms are starting to sore."

She gives you a sheepish smile from below. You feel goosebumps pricking your skin, disturbed by your mother's expression. It was the first time you saw that kind of smile from her.

"You're creeping me out," you say.

"Oh, it's nothing," your mother tells you. "It's just... recently I've noticed how you seem at peace now unlike before. It's nice..." she hesitates a bit but when she sees you only looking at her and listening intently, she finds the courage to express to you, "It's nice that we're finally having a mother-and-daughter bonding experience since... I don't know, maybe since you were one?"

You laugh. You actually laugh genuinely at what she says. You climb down the ladder, dusting your hands on your sweater. Peace. A word that its meaning which you know, but don't know what it feels. It is a foreign feeling and peculiar. Only then when your mother notices it you realize that maybe that was the right word you were looking for to describe your interiority right now.

But as soon as you take cognizance of it, your mother crashes it when she lets you know the news.

"Yoongi's family is having dinner with us on the Eve," she informs you, and your smile stiffens. "I expect that you'll be on your best behavior."

She looks at you expectantly, and it was enough to let her know that you aren't fond of the idea because you say,

"I'd rather be a Christmas feast to a cat, honestly."

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"To be honest, I'd rather feast on a mouse, mom," Yoongi says when his mother informs him their plan for the evening of Christmas Eve.

She laughs heartily. "Why would you say that, dear? Is it because of Y/N? Are you still uptight around her because of her gift?"

Yoongi shudders at the mere mention of your name for some unknown reason that he couldn't decipher. He denies it, shaking his head.

Then, her mother's eyes sparkled. She leans forward and whispers, "Then... have you gotten fond of her? You seem to be more nervous than before, Yoongi. Whenever we spend time with the L/Ns, you always seem so determined, and you look forward to spend time with their family. Why do you seem so uneasy now?"

"Err, it's not that, mom." Yoongi tries to distract himself by sipping on his iced Americano, but that doesn't ease his nerves. He regrets ordering his usual drink on the cold season because his shivering is amplified. "It's just... midterms' soon, and I'm just stressed, I guess."

"Stressed?" His mother repeats. "That's the first time I've heard that word from you, dear."

"Is it?" Yoongi chuckles awkwardly.

Mrs. Min emits another lighthearted laugh. "Yoongi, I know you more than anyone else. Don't even deny it, you have taken quite a liking for the L/Ns' daughter, haven't you?"

Yoongi gapes at his mother's proclamation. He immediately shakes his head vehemently. "Mom, that's ridiculous. Of course, I haven't. She hates me." At the last sentence, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But his bitter tone doesn't come unnoticed to his mother.

"Does she?" she innocently asks.

"Yeah." Yoongi sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line that resembled a bracket. It was a habit of his whenever he feels displeased. "She hates the mere sight of me, mom. And we compete for the first place, every time. She hates the fact that I'm always second to her because she's threatened that I might overthrow her anytime! It's annoying to be honest. But now, I'll just let her have her way. I'm just going to focus on studying for midterms. She's not worth my time, anyway."

Of course he was half-lying. He wanted nothing more but to continue this rivalry you two had. But these days, he had been in conflict with his inner self. He didn't want you having your way, he wanted to conquer you. But also, another side of him is troubling him. He didn't want to continue fighting you any longer for some reason. Yoongi doesn't know if he simply got tired of it or if it was because of something else that he couldn't pinpoint.

Either way, he didn't want to interact with you for the mean time. He had to figure whatever the shit was happening to his brain. Had he finally lost it?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You were serene as usual when midterms ended. You can't help but feel pride swelling on your chest as you listened to your classmates' complaints and sighs of regrets because they had a lot harder time getting through each question of the exams than you did.

But somehow, there was something missing; the thrill. Your mind wanders to your nemesis, wondering how he did in his exams.

When you were all dismissed, the hallways are instantaneously filled with students, celebrating their triumphs and the fact that they were now free from school. Instinctively, you try the look for a familiar midget with black bob hair and round-rimmed glasses.

And when you do see him, a smirk makes its way to your lips. You march confidently to his way. He doesn't notice your presence until you blocked his way, causing him to look up from his phone to acknowledge you.

"Hey, Potter," you drawl, playing with the ends of your hair. He rolls his eyes at the nickname you call him.

"What do you want?" he straightly gets to the point. You raise an eyebrow, a bit caught off-guard by his question.

That was a good one because yeah, what the hell did you want? Why did you approach him in the first place?

Yoongi unintentionally saves you from the embarrassment. His feline eyes narrow and he smugly smiles. "Oh, are you concerned about how I did well in my exams? Are you perhaps... threatened?"

You scowl, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get so brazen. I'm just here to tell you not to feel too self-assured. I know what you've been up to lately. You've been trying to distract me by not acknowledging my presence for the past few weeks. You think that that's all it takes for me to back down? Nah-uh. Nice try, Yoongi, but try harder."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow, fascinated at your assumptions. "So, that's what you've been presuming." Then, he shrugs, "Look, doll, I don't know where such thoughts of yours suddenly came from, but I'm just saying that that sounds like a you problem. I'm not doing anything, but it seems like you're turning into one of them, having delusions about me."

You cringe and sneer. "You can't be serious, Yoongi. Now, you're the delusional one!" The way he was smirking victoriously made you want to slap the mocking smile off of his face.

You decide to end the interaction, curtly pivoting on your heels and strutting away from Yoongi, whose piercing eyes never left your figure until you disappeared from his line of sight.

In the back of his mind, he is contemplating. He ponders if you were right. For the first time in his lifetime, he was considering what you said.

Meanwhile, you were stomping on piles of snows. You were furious at the lack of energy Yoongi was showing you. He really seemed like he didn't give a damn anymore about you. He was so laid-back and relaxed and that made your confidence dwindle a bit, wondering what had he pulled from his sleeves.

Your mood remains sour the whole time you walked home. People who passed by you probably thought that you were releasing dragon breaths if not for the freezing weather.

You were basically tramping on the floor of your living room, immediately catching the attention of your mother, who scampers out of the kitchen to check out the commotion. She sees you muttering incoherent words to yourself and you only stop when she gets your attention.

"Did something happen, Y/N?" she questions. "Why are you in a sour mood? Did something happen with your exams?"

"No, mom!" you immediately answer. "In fact, I aced the exams, I'm certain! You don't need to worry about anything. It's just that—" you abruptly stop. Your mother looks at you, waiting for you to continue but you don't.

Frankly, you're confused yourself, suddenly wondering why were you so worked up. You didn't have to worry about anything, you were a hundred percent confident that you did outstandingly in your exams.

"Y/N?" Your mother's voice pulls you out of your trance.

"It's nothing!" you exclaim. "Just tired. I'm going to my room, if you don't mind." You start going up the stairs. "Call me if you need help." Your voice echoes in the first floor.

Mrs. L/N blinks, finding your behavior strange lately. Yet, she shrugs it off and goes back to working in the kitchen.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"Y/N, please stop harassing the carrots," your mother says. "They did nothing to you."

You stop cutting the vegetable, noticing that indeed, the whole carrot was now mashed. You sigh, not realizing that you've been cutting angrily.

"If you're not in the mood, I can cook myself. You can go on and set the table instead."

You don't argue, abandoning the knife and mashed carrots before making way towards the cabinets where your mother kept the utensils for special occasions.

It was finally the day of your impending doom. Christmas Eve. Dinner with the Min family, and honestly, you didn't know what to feel. The last time Yoongi visited was when you and your mother had an argument right in front of him. It was also the day everything changed. You wonder if the argument that transpired traumatized him, rendering him to madness. Or maybe he was diagnosed with a disorder.

There I go again. Why the hell am I even thinking about him? Focus at the task at hand, Y/N—

You reach out for the stack of plates but one of them slips from your grasp, clattering and breaking on the floor. Your mother jumps, and she starts to scold you as you bent down and picked up the broken pieces.

"Y/N, seriously, what is going on with you?" she exclaims. "You've been so out of it!"

You sigh, fluttering your eyes close for a moment. When you open them, you wince, suddenly feeling blood rushing towards your index finger. You look down and see rivulets of ruby spilling out of your skin.

Mrs. L/N notices your trance and she follows your gaze. Her eyes widen and she gasps, instantly ushering you to rinse your wound and put a band aid on it.

You obey, grabbing the opportunity of ephemeral peace. In the bathroom, you dab the small laceration with Betadine, before wrapping it up with a band aid. Then, your ears register the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the door.

It didn't take you long to realize that the Min family has entered your residence. And that meant, Yoongi was also here. Your last interaction with him was at the school hallway, where you two had a small argument about which one of you was the delusional one. It was an awkward one, to be honest. It didn't feel like your previous fights.

You slap your forehead with your wounded hand, wincing and mentally cursing yourself because of your stupidity. It was ironic, to be frank. You were gifted with an incredible high IQ, but your EQ was equivalently low.

After a few minutes of attempts to calm yourself down, you finally step out of the bathroom, sauntering towards the living room to make your presence known. Mrs. Min acknowledges you, giving you a peck in the cheek. You awkwardly stand before her as she compliments your crown braid hairstyle and the baby blue turtleneck dress that you wore, matched with a pair of flats because you didn't do well in heels in cold weathers.

Her attention pans towards your father, greeting him with the same enthusiasm and you finally felt like you could breathe. But that's when you see him too.

Yoongi is standing in the sidelines, observing the interaction between the four adults. He is obviously avoiding your eyes but you don't notice it, of course. He could literally feel your burning stare on him that he was starting to feel his legs buckle.

However, all those went over your head. You pay heed on his outfit. He didn't seem... too bad. You acknowledge that he has a sense of fashion. He is wearing a pair of beige slacks, complimenting his skin tone. The black leather belt that hugged his waist is a contrast to his white button up long sleeve, a cream-colored knitted vest resting on top of it.

When you look at his eyes, you find him already staring at you. Clearly, he had completely failed avoiding at looking at you. You two continued to have a staredown when Mrs. Min calls the attention of the two of you.

"Y/N, Yoongi! Take your seats. Let's bless the food and eat!"

After dinner, the four adults in the room began to chat with the company of champagne and whiskey. Meanwhile, you and Yoongi were tasked to do the dishes. So, as much as to your disappointment, you were stuck with him. He soaps the dishes while you rinsed them. The situation was awkward because you two were enveloped in a uncomfortable silence. The only sources of sound between you were the voices and laughters coming from the living room.

Earlier, your mother had warned you to be in your best behavior for the umpteenth time, and you don't even fight her on it because 1) you didn't have the energy to engage in a war anyways and 2) Min Yoongi had been passive so you actually had no reason to go into a fit of rage. But still, there is a slight disappointment in you because of the lack of interaction you were having with the said boy.

It was like he had gone mute. To you, it's irksome but also, you were starting to feel concerned. However, your pride was more essential to you, so you don't ask Yoongi what has been bothering him lately because 1) he's your nemesis, you aren't supposed to care for his well-being and 2) it might be a part of his grandmaster plan of plotting your demise.

After drying your hands, you don't bother to wait for Yoongi. Passing by the adults in the living room, you silently exit through the front door to get some fresh air.

As if finally freeing yourself from constriction, you inhale the scent of snowflakes and exhale through your nose, an icy breath leaving your lips. You don't notice the front door opening once again. You don't notice the pair of footsteps padding against the soft snow. You only notice it when the footsteps stop beside you.

You turn your head slightly and see Yoongi, who's looking straight ahead. Cautiously, you take a step to your right to increase the distance between you two.

He notices instantly because he scoffs, "I'm not going to bite you."

"I was just making sure," you reason out. "Why are you here, anyway? Did your mom tell you to? You can drop the act now."

He looks at you in disbelief. "I didn't come out here because I was told to. I came here on my own accord."

You frown. "You're legit scaring me now. Will you stop it already?"

This time, Yoongi doesn't let his gaze leave your face. He is intently looking at you, as if scrutinizing every movement you made. Instinctively, you tuck your chin inside the collar of your turtleneck, hoping that it would shield you from his piercing eyes. It doesn't work out.

"I'm not doing anything, Y/N," he says calmly. "It's you who's overthinking—"

"Oh, stop!" You wave your hands at him. "I'm not stupid, Yoongi. You thought I wouldn't notice the way you're acting differently around me now? You don't seem to have that fiery eyes on me every time we talked. It's sickening, almost like you're mocking me."

A silence envelops the two of you, and you feel your cheeks reddening, partly because of the cold but mostly because of the boy who stood beside you.

"You know," he finally speaks. "It's not that difficult to admit to yourself that you missed me."

This time, you have the strength and courage to actually look at him dead in the eyes. "Are you planning to major in slapstick comedy? Because if yes, then I say go for it. Undoubtedly, you'll be the valedictorian just like you always dream of."

He snickers, tilting his head lightly as he reciprocates your incandescent gaze. "You're funny," he tells you.

"See?!" you exclaim. "This is what I mean! Why aren't you arguing back?" You stomp your foot.

He blinks, finding your question dumb. "Because I simply don't want to?" he answers albeit unsure of it himself.

You cross your arms and emit a scoff. "Sure, you do."

"Look," Yoongi starts. "If you're expecting me to argue with you, I won't. I already told you before, a few months ago, I don't abhor you as much as I do before."

"Why?" you ask and this time, he scoffs.

"Why?" he repeats. "For a person like you with immensely high IQ, you suck at reading the room."

Before you could protest, he interrupts you, making sure that your attention was only on him. He takes two steps towards you, decreasing the distance between your bodies.

"Y/N, I may be the bad guy but I'm not a bad guy," he says. "To be honest with you, I, myself, am confused too. I don't strongly loathe you these past few months and I've been questioning myself why either. But—"

He stops and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What happened to your finger?"

His question catches you off-guard, rendering you to caress the covered part of your skin. You flinch slightly when he holds your hand, raising it to get a proper look on it. His face scrunches and for the first time, you feel something somersaulting in your stomach. You didn't know if you liked it or not, but it was certainly making you feel discomfort.

When you start to feel overwhelmed, you pulled away from his touch, placing your hand to your chest. "I-I'm fine," you stammer.

"Are you sure?" he worriedly asks.

"Yes, I am!" You didn't mean to yell at him but you couldn't help it. He has been making you feel lots emotion. He was confusing you, and the more and more time you were out here with him, the more you were driving to madness.

"You know," he smirks. "If you could stop yelling at me for a second, I could show you much more fun and productive uses for that mouth of yours."

You gape at him, and you start walking backwards when he begins to take defiant steps closer to you. Every time you stepped back, he takes one towards you too. As your back hits the cold exterior walls of your house, you gasp lightly when Yoongi encages you between the walls and his arms, his hands falling on either side of you.

Light snow pelted on both of you but that isn't the reason why you flinch. The reason is because he leans close, increasing the proximity of your faces.

"Yoongi—" you begin to protest but he doesn't let you.

His forehead touches yours and you yelped slightly at the way he is treating you right now. His eyes flutter shut and he speaks in low manner that had you trembling in your position.

"Y/N, you're absolutely driving me crazy," he murmurs. "Like I said, I'm so confused too. My heart and mind are clouded because lately, you've been occupying my thoughts. I loathe the way you bewitch me whenever you use your sharp tongue against me. I despise how you can easily get under my nerves but also it satisfies me whenever you attempt to put me in my place, when you give me a taste of my own medicine."

He pauses, fluttering his eyes open. He leans away slightly, the warmth emanated from his forehead leaving you instantly.

"There is no other plausible explanation for this except for the possibility that... I have been harboring feelings for you for quite awhile now, Y/N." He exhales softly, as if a huge weight has been finally lifted off of his shoulders. "And it's not what you're thinking of. It's the opposite of it."

The world stops for a moment, the snowflakes stop falling, and the time stops ticking. You only hear his soft breaths that had never sounded so calm up until this moment.

"I like you, Y/N." He shows you a coy smile. "And right now, I'm surrendering to you. You can continue to hate me if you want, but it won't change my feelings for you."

Your heart is hammering against your chest wildly, and you only hope that Yoongi isn't hearing how loudly it was beating against your ribcage. As the silence between you two continues to prolong, the harder it was for you to formulate a coherent response.

A buzzing sound slices the still atmosphere and you usher Yoongi to check his phone. He does, sighing in dismay. You warily watch him as he opens his messaging app. You awkwardly stand before him as he scrolls through his chats.

His expression morphs into perturbation. The lump that had formed in his throat getting harder to swallow. You notice his adam's apple bob up and down and you start to wonder what happened.

Then, his eyes leave the screen, searching for yours. When your gazes collide, the confidence that he had a few minutes ago was now gone, replaced by anxiousness.

"I think..." He says reluctantly. "You need to see this."

He hands you his device and you impassively check out what he saw. Then, the blood drains from your skin, your own expression alters to skepticism first, then turns to perplexity once you double take on the image viewed on the screen.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Your mind going haywire for a fleeting moment. You felt even worse when you look up at Yoongi because his emotion was anything but jubilance. In fact, he rather looks like he was in agony.

But you don't care about that. Your anger only rises, traveling through your veins. At that very moment, standing before your own rival, you were beyond humiliated and enraged that he witnessed your downfall, the scarlet ink being the proof of it.

Top Performers for This Year's Midterms

1. Min Yoongi

2. L/N Y/N

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The Christmas jingles resonating all throughout the suburbs was unnecessarily aggravating you more than it should be for the reasons that you are making it sound like Christmas is mocking your once exuberant mood a few days ago, and because you didn't like the gift and news you received that night.

Despite the freezing weather's attempts to cool you down, it was heightening your fury instead. Four days after Christmas Eve, you kicked the sheets off yourself and impulsively decided that a walk in the suburbs will be a great idea so that you can finally turn your sour mood into a sweet one.

Alas, it fails miserably. You are still trampling on snow piles as your fervent eyes scan the shops in the sidewalks, desperately trying to look for something that can finally extinguish the fires within you.

But when you reach the end of the street, the tall buildings of stores turning into festive bungalows, and decorated apartments. The worst of all is the duplexes, because the decorations of both similar-structured houses have conjoined Christmas embellishments, letting everyone who passes by know that the two families living inside are more than acquaintances.

It stupidly reminds you of your family's current situation with them. More specifically, your situation with him.

When you finally reach the comfort of your bedroom, contradictory, it doesn't feel comforting at all. Everywhere your gaze lands, they remind you of him; of the fact that he had finally conquered you; that all your hardwork that year were for nothing.

Shutting your eyes close, you begin to recite the numbers of pi, pacing around your room. It was something that you always do when you're stressed.

"...190914564856692346034861045432664821339!" When the door of your bedroom creaks open, you couldn't help but yell nine, as if threatening the one who dares to interrupt your attempts to keep yourself level-headed.

You were about to glare but instead, you were surprised to see your father, peeking through the crevice of your door. You notice that he's slightly anxious because, well, you were screaming numbers.

A sigh escapes your lips and you shuffle towards the door, opening it wider. Your father takes this as a sign that he was invited in your room.

Your relationship with your father is very much uptight and timid which is why between him and your mother, you're less angry at him. At times though, you didn't know how to act around him because you feel like you don't know him. You never bonded with him. Except for that time you were helping him out with connecting the Christmas lights on your roof's gutters.

After that fleeting moment, the bond was gone, as if a scissor magically appeared to cut the strings between you two. You don't hate him for it, but sometimes, you wonder and daydream possible moments where you could actually bond without that suffocating rope forcedly tying you two together.

You wonder if in the past, in the years when you were still full of innocence, purity, oblivious of the histories of the ancient world; when you still didn't know how to count one to three; when you barely knew how to lift a muscle and take the first steps towards your father.

Had he ever squat down before you, his face full of sunshine, and encourage you to come to him with open arms? Tell you that you could do it! That you could make it to the heartwarming embrace of your father's arms?

But the more you try to dig any sort of memory from your lobes, nothing resurfaces. And you were back with the reality that, maybe, he didn't need and have to do all of those.

Because as far as your memory traveled back, you had been completely fine on your own. Maybe, you taught yourself how to walk, think, say your first word.

Because, you were gifted.

And now, as the years go by, you realize that the gift you have, may be also your curse.

It's a tightrope with both ends holding you up, urging you to keep on walking. A gift and a curse on either end, shouting at you—

Stop standing around!

The rope's about to break if you don't start moving another step!

What has gotten into you?!

You used to do this so effortlessly!

"Y/N."

The call of your father's soft voice pulls you out of your trance. You suddenly realize that you had been standing by the door stupidly and your father is looking at you with worry creasing his mature features.

"Oh," you say. "My bad."

You shut the door then turn your back towards your father. You amble towards your desk, attempting to fix the sprawled mess on it by carelessly shoving the scratch papers in your bin, keeping your ballpens and pencils in your pencil case, the zipper loudly being the only source of sound slicing through the deafening silence.

"Sorry about the mess," you say. "I've been busy."

"On your holiday break?" your father asks, chuckling lightly. The sound faintly makes your lips form into a small smile. But as soon as it came, it disappears.

"Yeah, well, I'm growing older. And that means the more I age, the more my ability to suck in information rusts."

Your father doesn't reply after that, so you continue to clean up your desk wordlessly. Once you had nothing to pick up and throw and keep anymore, you finally turn back around to face your father.

He's sitting quiety on the foot of your bed, and you take heed of the small box he's fiddling with his hands. The box is covered with red wrapper, with flurries of snowflakes as pattern.

He notices that your attention is on him, so he stands up from your bed and approaches you in a relaxing manner yet you can catch on the slight cautiousness along it. You decide not to mention anything about it.

He hands you the little parcel, and you accept it wordlessly, opting to wait for him to speak first.

He does. "I wasn't able to get you any gift on Christmas, and I hope I'm not too late. I had a bit of a hard time picking one, but I made sure I thought about it. Hopefully, you'll like this small present."

"Thanks, dad," is your only verbose reply.

He nods and after contemplating a bit, he decides to leave you to it. In your own solitude once again, you scrutinize the small box, tossing it lightly every now and then to guess what it was. You feel movement from inside, like a flow of something liquid.

Your curiosity makes you rip the wrapper apart and it didn't take long for the gift to make its apparition.

The gift is simple like its size, but to you, it holds a lot of meaning. It's a snowglobe, but the inside is what makes it unique. No, Santa Claus isn't there inside nor were the nine reindeers that pulled his sleigh—even the sleigh itself is absent. Rudolph isn't there which makes you slightly pout but it doesn't last long because staring back at you from the other side of the glass is a small girl with Iron Man's arm around her. He is almost hugging her but his other arm remains at his side.

You shake the globe in your hands, chuckling at the bits of snow encompassing the small figures inside.

Indeed, it reminds you of something. You and your father.

But for the first time in forever, you aren't longing. Rather, you are contented.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

It is still snowing a week after New Year. Nothing much happened. You only had a family dinner, watched fireworks, and jumped around because of your belief that you would grow taller if you do so.

But after the first day of the year, things went back to normal. The only difference is the relentless snow pouring everywhere.

Oh, and classes are resumed.

Miraculously, you don't feel as much anger as you did a few weeks ago. You don't know if it's because it's a new year so you just suddenly feel like oh, fuck it, it's been a long ass while, I should chill the eff out.

Weirdly enough, you expected to be really infuriated when your feet leads you to the bulletin board and scan it. You see your name, beside the number two. It sinks in to you of the reality that you're now second but oddly, you don't feel the particular element surging through your veins.

You thought everything's going well so far. And you must have a curse because every time you thought that all is well, that's when the real torrential typhoon arrives.

Tornados hit everywhere, and instead of rainshowers, you see hails vehemently falling on yourself. It hurts so much more than rain, but you had to get through it anyways. Or else, you would die getting shot by mere ice. It was gonna be embarrassing if your soul sees your grave with the words 'Cause of death: ice' engraved on your tombstone.

So, you make sure that you are under control when Min Yoongi does his usual entrance, greeting the student body with nods and smiles. It's slightly different now though, because some of them greeted him back with congratulations.

You resist your eye wanting to twitch when Yoongi's gaze finally lands on you.

A year ago and a year before that, you would always see his eyes fiery and intense, trying to get under your nerves with a mere eye contact. Now, however, his eyes hold on anything but anger. The sight of him doesn't infuriate you for the first time, but it does provoke you for another reason that you were afraid to unravel.

You desperately want to bury what you're feeling six feet below, because as much as you loathe it, you can't help but trail your mind back to that particular night when he had declared his feelings for you.

"I like you, Y/N."

Was that even possible? Was it possible, at all, to grow feelings for the person who constantly tormented you for the years you've known them? You couldn't wrap your mind around it, no matter how smart you are, it seems like you couldn't find any plausible explanation for such circumstances.

Not even when the devil himself is only three inches away from you, did you successfully come up with a conceivable reason.

Yoongi greets you but you don't respond. The crowd was anticipating what would your response be, and you refuse to give them the satisfaction. Instead, you walk past him, not even sparing a glance to any of the spectators. You also drown out their whispers, making you want to yell at them 'Why whisper when I would still hear it anyway, dumbos?'

You don't utter a single world, opting to force to smother the flames instead, maybe bury them deep within your ribcage, lock it with a key and throw it in the Altantic Ocean, hoping that it will land on the Titanic where no one could ever take it. Not even you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You spent the whole day in school cocooned in your hoodie, attempting to take naps despite of the loud voices of your teachers and classmates. But you only end up being wide awake, your eyes open, your face on the desk, seeing nothing but black. You succumb in yourself in the trenches of your own thoughts, and you finally drift off.

You don't know how long you've fallen asleep, but your consciousness slowly enters your systems, causing you to become suddenly aware of your surroundings. Unlike a few minutes—or hours—ago, the ambience is silent. Too silent.

When you open your eyes and move your arms slightly, your brows furrow in confusion when the darkness remains. You have no idea if your sense of hearing had heightened in the span of your sleep or if the sound is just extremely loud because you can hear someone breathing, as if they were just beside you.

Squinting your eyes, you brace for the brightness of the world to blind you, but you still see nothing.

You rub your eyes to adjust your sight in the dark. And you finally realize that it is night time. The stars are awake, looking down on you as they twinkle. The moon is round, as if it is luring you to spill your secrets.

Most importantly, you finally process the presence beside you. The main sound source of breathing.

Min Yoongi.

When you look at him, he's already staring at you. It reminds you of that certain night once again. Come to think of it, the situation you both are in is similar. It's night time again.

"What are you doing here?" It's you who breaks the silence. Your voice is slightly hoarse so you clear your throat.

"I could ask you the same." Yoongi shrugs. He leans on his desk, propping his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

"I fell asleep," you merely say.

"I figured," he replies. "But you slept through your classes? Even after it ended?Huh, I never took you for a deep sleeper."

"It's because of the weather." You grit your teeth, starting to feel annoyed at the exchange you're having with your nemesis.

Your bitter tone, however, doesn't come unnoticed to Yoongi.

"Why are you grumpy? Shouldn't you feel better after a nap?"

"You could say that I woke up on the wrong side of my desk."

He lets out a laugh at your response, and you furrow your eyebrows and frown because your intention wasn't to make a joke.

"Is that your awkward way of flirting with me?" He gives you a coquettish smile.

Your face distorts into disgust. "You're ridiculous."

"What?" Yoongi tilts his head. "You said you woke up on the wrong side of your desk, which is the opposite of where I am. Do you think you would've been in a less sour mood if it was my face you saw first?"

You mentally kick yourself for being slow. Moreoever, you also curse lowly because your heart stopped beating for a fleeting moment.

You also can't contain your irritation any longer. You grimace, making your vexation perceivable to the boy who sat beside you.

"You're really getting on my nerves," you say. "This was your goal all along, right? To deter me away from focus. This was your grandmaster plan all along. To get ahead of me. Well, guess what?" You abruptly stand up from your chair, the furniture screeching against the floor. The eerie sound reverberates through the whole room yet Yoongi doesn't flinch.

"Congratulations, Yoongi," you seethe. "Congratulations for beating me! Did you have fun distracting me? Also, cut the crap, will you? You weren't here because you wanted to set a romantic mood, and maybe try again in making me fall for you, yes? No, you don't have to go through all that bullshit. Not at all. Because right now. Right here, I am giving you the full permission of mocking me! Tada! Isn't this fun? It's all going well for you, isn't it, hm?"

You were now leaning forward, your face right in front of him. You gathered that much of your confidence because you already knew it would be your last. Because the following days, you would probably be drooping in humilation.

However, Yoongi stays put in his seat, his eyes void of any emotion you could decipher. He only looks at you. The silence envelopes the both of you again, and you were losing every bit of patience you had left within you.

But the silence breaks as soon as you acknowledge it.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Yoongi's question-declaration cuts you deep. Your breath hitches and you feel like someone had taken your lifeline.

"Wha—"

"You know," he speaks again. "For all the years I've known you, I always thought that even if we were in an apocalypse; if we were the last humans on earth, I would rather date a zombie that have myself associated with you. It was always easier that way, right?" He pauses, looking briefly at you before shifting his gaze at the silvery scenery outside. "It was easy... but now, it's difficult to think that way. Because in all my life, I have never even considered, thought about falling for you."

At the last word, his eyes meet yours and a thousand galaxies can be seen in his irises. You can see your own reflection in his eyes, unsaid words starting to spill out the more stars his eyes consumed.

"Your brutal words used to be my melodies, because whenever I hear you utter words of hatred at me, they become my symphonies. I was always satisfied having successfully gotten into your nerves. But now, they're like bullets to me. Your wicked words are curses to me. Whenever you express your loathe, they come across as daggers now. But they also bewitch me in some way, because I know that you don't vehemently hate anyone else as much as you hate me."

A soft wind kisses both of your skin, serving as the temporary rest between the overwhelming tension between you.

"But I can't help but think..." He moves from his seat, standing up from it and you are forced to stand properly as well.

He takes a step closer to you. "That maybe, just maybe, we are on the same boat."

"That maybe, the reason you're getting so worked up on me right now is because you feel the same way." Another step closer.

"That maybe, I'm not going insane. That this is all totally normal for me to feel." Another step closer.

The back of your knees hit the teacher's desk, and you yelp slightly at the familiar proximity of your bodies. The night of Christmas Eve haunts you back, but oddly, it doesn't asphyxiate you. Rather it dawns on you in a soothing manner, but also in a way that the weight of the world on your shoulders becomes a bit bearable.

The eventual arrives upon you and it hits you like a meteor plunging on the earth's surface, burying itself deep within the soil so that it becomes a part of the planet. Everything started to make sense to you at this very moment; why you cared so much about how well Yoongi did in every exam you took; why it seems that everything he does gets under your skin; why everything he says stuck to you the most, etching on your mind and it becomes a mantra in your head.

It had always been him. You had always loved that fucker, even more this moment of realization. And it terrifies you now more than anything. You wanted to incessantly succumb yourself under denial, but you knew you would only feel worse than you already are.

You can't push him away any longer, because the more you do, the more your world collapses, and sooner or later you will find yourself underneath the heap of rubble you created yourself. That no matter how vehement you scream for help, nobody will come to you.

But in the depths of your abyssal thoughts, you finally conjure the image of your worst enemy; the one who pulls you out of the demolished building; the one who embraces you and whisper you sweet nothings.

You unconsciously sought Yoongi in all seasons because he have always been the one who saw you; he's the cold wind that caresses your cheeks, the storm that torments you, the sunlight that blinds you, the water that pours on you so that you'll bloom.

And now, the autumn leaves that delicately descend on your palms, and you nuzzle your nose against his, the warmth emanating from him instilling in yours.

His lips ghost over yours, and he whispers, "Tell me to stop. And if you don't... I will take that as your indication that you're returning my feelings."

Yoongi's lips are soft when he brushes it against yours a few times before he presses deeper. His lips are sweet when you taste him the first time in your tongue. His kiss is deliberately and painfully slow but he fills you to the brim, taking in all of your cold breaths. His touch is gentle and tender, stroking the soft skin of your nape as he searches for an angle that can fully quench his desire for you.

It was nothing like you ever imagined, because you never did. Only in this moment, did you let your mind wander to dangerous territory. Your fantasies getting vivid as each second passed by as he drinks in your breathless exhales, strokes your hip lovingly.

Your eyes are still fluttered shut when the warmth of his mouth leaves yours, and you suddenly feel empty. When you open them, his beauty greets you and your eyes that once held fervid flames are extinguished into something much more gentle and fond.

That's all that it takes for Yoongi to know what you truly feel about him.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The blanket of snow dissipates, replaced by the freshly-bloomed flowers, coating the once melancholic pavement. Flocks of birds fills the void, the leaves rustle, and the world seems a whole lot livelier than before.

Furthermore, you are much more in a state of tranquility.

Spring break arrives sooner than you expected, and you are once again free from the bars of school. Lately, however, you don't deem that place like a prison anymore. It had become much more bearable and breathable for you to step foot on it.

One, because being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore (partly because you had a recent discovery that you pretty much enjoyed being at the bottom, if you know what I mean). Two, because you decided that you're going to use your gift in a much more calmer way, where you won't have to stress too much about your grades, as long as you continue to do well in every aspect of your academic performance.

And three, because you look forward for the rendezvouses your boyfriend plans every single week day.

Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and janitors' closets, discreet hand-holdings in crowded public spaces such as the cafeteria, playful banters in the hallways to put on a show for everyone to see, the thrill of getting caught whenever things got a little bit too heated between the two of you in the darkness of storage rooms.

Yeah, while everyone else still thinks you're each other's rivals, you two have a secret relationship taking place in the premises, right under their noses.

Yoongi and you had no problem about it at all. You two came into a mutual agreement that you were going to keep this rivalry thing going on only for the sake of the adrenaline rush pumping through both of your veins at the thought of your schoolmates possibly finding out what has been transpiring between the two of you.

You've never understood the meaning of love and hate until now. They are two emotions, not entirely the opposite of each other, but they belong to both sides of a coin. The coin wouldn't exist without the other. That's why you worry less about the future that awaits you, because it's Yoongi.

Yoongi had seen you in your worst and so did you had seen his. There's that fine line that exists between the both of you of love and hate, which is why you think that indifference is the opposite of love instead. Because with indifference, you don't give a damn about that person. That isn't the case for you at all on what you feel towards Yoongi.

He is the psychedelic drug you never want to stop drinking. It feels overwhelming at times, but you feel good. And you make sure to return the favor when the coin lands on your side.

Once again, he pulls you out of your reverie, intertwining his fingers with yours. He keeps your hands in the pocket of his coat, while you blush underneath his stare. He walks ahead slightly, pulling you along with him. You don't know where he'll take you on your umpteenth date, but you let him do as he pleases to you.

Yeah, this feels all right.

Maybe, you don't mind him being at the top at all. As long as it was always you who follows behind him.

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shina913 · 11 months

Text

Percussions | MYG

Pairing: MYG x Fem!Reader

Rating: Rated-R; 🔞 NSFW

Genre: Mafia!AU; Assassin!AU; angst

Summary: Min Yoongi, a former CIA explosives expert, now works as a hired hitman. You contact him to enlist his help in exacting revenge on a family of mobsters who murdered your family years ago. Complications arise when Yoongi finds a personal connection to your case.

Warnings: depictions of violence, namely: a bomb explosion, fist fight, mentions of blood, a gun aimed at close-range; cussing; thoughts of revenge

Word count: 2.1K+

⚠️ Please bear in mind that this is a work of fiction. Still, I'm trying my best to avoid being too explicit about the crime and violence included here. Please proceed with caution! If there is any warning that I've failed to list, please tell me so and I will correct it right away. Thank you!

A/N: This was initially something I had in mind based on this Anon ask but I don't know if it really fulfills it. It sort of turned into something else.

Anyway, I don't know what I want this to be yet. I guess I'm testing the waters as this is the first time I'm trying to write in this type of genre/au. Thanks to @internetjunkdrawer and @itdoesntmatterwhy for looking this over and for pushing me to add nuance to this story. I’m including you in here, too @yoongukie-ff for the overall encouragement 🥹

I hope it's good enough!

Ten years ago, Captain Min Yoongi and Colonel Kwang Chunghee were explosives specialists working for the CIA. After months of planning, they were finally ready to carry out their mission to take down a notorious drug kingpin.

However, while waiting for the car transporting their target, they were surprised to see a young girl in the backseat with him – his daughter. Yoongi instantly knew that this would complicate things and expressed his frustration with the recon team for overlooking this crucial detail.

Yoongi suggests to Kwang that they abort the mission to spare the innocent child. He points out that they have another window of opportunity tomorrow since they have the target's daily routine memorized. Kwang insists that they see it through. "We've watched this guy for months. It's now or never, Min! We need this guy dead, or it's our asses on the line.”

Yoongi hesitates, standing his ground and refusing to harm any innocents.

"As your superior, you need to proceed with the mission, Captain!" Kwang barks at him.

"But what about the girl?" Yoongi argues.

"Fuck the girl!" Kwang yells, ignoring Yoongi's pleas. "She is collateral damage. Now, I repeat, you will proceed with the mission. That's a fucking order!"

Reluctantly, Yoongi obeys. The explosion itself goes without a hitch, but it kills the child in the process.

Yoongi is devastated by the child's wrongful death but brushes it aside. It's all part of the job.

As he walks back toward their vehicle, Kwang ambushes Yoongi by slamming him against a sharp corner of the truck, where he sustains injuries to his face.

“Don’t you dare fucking go against my orders again, Min! I taught you everything I know–and you dare question my authority?” He shouts.

Yoongi, angered by the unprovoked attack, tries to fight back but Kwang pulls his gun on him. He instinctively puts his hands up, his right eye blinded by the blood dripping into it. Must be an orbital fracture.

“Are you going to kill me too, Colonel?”

Kwang smirks. “You’re a specialist, captain. You deserve worse.” He kicks Yoongi in the stomach, making him lose his balance. He points his gun at him again. “I’ll tell the Major General that you tried your best but made a tactical mistake so I had to finish the job for you.”

In his anger, Yoongi makes a grab for the gun. Kwang is caught off-guard, lost in his ego trip, and is outmaneuvered easily.

Yoongi attacks Kwang savagely. “You like watching them die, don’t you? You sick fuck!” He continues to beat him to a pulp. “That’s not what we stand for!”

“Admit it,” Kwang laughs, “You like it, too.”

“My job is not who I am, Colonel. I just happen to be good at it. But you?” He shook his head. “You need to be stopped!”

Yoongi finally backs off and leaves Kwang bloodied and bruised. He takes the first flight out to return home. Upon his arrival, he resigned and reported Kwang's actions to their superiors and the ethics committee. Kwang was subsequently discharged from service.

Yoongi is still troubled by memories of his last mission, despite his efforts to move on. The thought of the child's death continues to haunt him and he feels guilty for what happened. Kwang's words have also left a deep impact on him and he struggles to forget them. He knows he did the right thing by reporting Kwang's actions, but sometimes wonders if he could have done something differently during the mission.

Going into his assignment, he knew difficult decisions would have to be made. All he wanted was to serve his country and protect innocent lives, even if that meant sacrificing a few bad ones.

Perhaps the end did justify the means.

******

Years later, Yoongi lives a solitary life.

He works as a freelance hitman. Some days, he is still haunted by the ghosts of his past. He doesn’t enjoy what he does for a living but the fact was, he was very good at it. Even with an honorable discharge, the pension was shit.

He found an untapped market for his skills and it’s proved to be very lucrative.

Desperate people contact him through an encrypted, closed-circuit online system that caters to assassins and mafia lords. Yoongi specializes in “tailoring” his explosions; building and planting bombs that blow up only the intended target while leaving innocent bystanders unharmed.

But he only takes the cases that interest him.

He fires up his laptop and logs into his personal server, entering a code to access it. It had been months since he last checked his messages. He was losing interest in the business and slowly starting to back away from it.

There were a handful of notes waiting for him, including a few from the same person. The latest one had just come through minutes ago, reading: "Please. Free me from this."

He practically knows your screen name by heart based on your previous online exchanges. He was intrigued by your initial posting and responded to gain some basic information. During his independent investigation, he discovered that not only was there an emotional connection between you and the targets, but their known associates made him mark the job as a red flag. He decided to skip your next few messages and instead moved on to another job that seemed simpler.

Now that he's back, he could clearly see how persistent you still were.

While pondering what to do next, he switches to another open tab on his screen, which shows the current funds he has amassed.

Nine figures. That is above and beyond any amount he has ever had in his possession. He should be content with it. He could cash out and disappear. All he has to do is shut his laptop down and run the self-destruct 'eraser' installed in it to wipe it clean but that was too easy.

The messages you sent to him were desperate and frantic…because you were.

They say you’re the best. Name your price.

I want them dead.

I’m ready to give you all of my money, just help me.

One thing about Yoongi is that, although he is practical and realistic, he’s unafraid to push the envelope. Part of that is due to his ego, and the fact that he is good at what he does. His colleagues in the military said so, and all of his clients in the criminal underworld say the same.

His eyes fixate on the "call" icon on the screen. His cursor hovers over it, hesitating. He never calls any of his clients unless there is a problem with the job or payment, both of which are rare occurrences. He prides himself on always getting the job done and receiving prompt payments.

"What the heck," he says to himself. He’s bored, and he could do the job with one hand tied behind his back. Besides, the money could pad his wallet a bit more.

Finally, he clicks on the call icon. He waits as the line trills on the other end.

After two rings, you answer. “Hello?”

Surprised by the sound of your voice, which is soft and calm, he takes a moment to respond. It’s the opposite of the agitated tone in your most recent message.

“Are you there?” You ask softly, increasing the volume in your encrypted app.

“I’m here,” he finally says. “I just saw your messages.” He lied. He had seen your messages before. He just chose to ignore them in hopes that you’d move on but you just wouldn’t let up.

“I apologize for calling you late at night.”

“No problem at all. It’s not like I sleep these days anyway,” you reply. “Does this mean that you’re picking up my contract?”

He pauses again before answering as if considering his words. Perhaps he thinks you'll take the hint if he's more straightforward. "I don't think I'm the right person to do this for you," he finally says.

You almost whine, "Why not? I think you're exactly the person who can get the job done for me."

He smirks. "And you believe that blowing these people up is the key to your revenge? Why not go to court?"

"The courts are on their payroll," you deadpan.

He pokes his tongue against his cheek and tries to offer an alternative. “I know some other guys. Trained snipers—“

“No,” you say curtly. “Bullets,” you sigh, “...can be imprecise. I’ve waited too long and put up too much money just to miss. I want insurance. I want them to suffer as I suffered.”

This wasn’t a new sentiment for Yoongi. He’s picked up contracts ranging from business squabbles to someone who just wanted to intimidate a rival. It was all very cut and dry.

He wasn’t much for personal vendettas. Too messy.

“I hear you can control your explosions.” You say. “They say that you can shape your charges, create shells to restrict the range—“

“That’s an oversimplification of a very complex and intricate process.” He interjects.

You smile into the phone. It seems you struck a nerve. “Explain it to me then,” you coax him.

“People don’t usually want to hear all that. They don’t care for the details.” Nobody wanted to listen to him wax poetic about different types of detonation cords.

“But I want to hear it. Plus…I like the sound of your voice,” you say smoothly.

“Hm,” he chuckles. “Flattery won’t make me reveal my trade secrets to clients.”

Confidence growing, you say, “Oh, I’m your client now?”

His screen quietly pings with your exact coordinates. He could very well hang up at this moment to let you know that he wasn’t interested in the job. And yet, there was something about you that made him want to stay on the line.

Yoongi leans his head back. He has amassed more than enough money from previous contracts to buy a generous plot of land in the middle of nowhere and retire there. Completely disappear. The urge to quit has been coming up more often.

But today, he would resist that urge again. Deciding to play coy, he says, “Give me some more time to think about it. I’ll call you back.”

“When?” You ask eagerly.

"I'll send you a message on the server an hour in advance so you can expect it," he says.

As he prepares to hang up, in an act of desperation, you blurt out, "That's not good enough! I need something more reassuring. Is it the money? Do you want more money? I have it!"

"It's not the money—"

"I can help you!"

"And how do you propose to do that?"

"We can work together."

He scoffs. You really are desperate. "I don't need a partner." He always works his contacts solo. He doesn't want to babysit anyone, much less split the paycheck.

"I have an 'in'."

"What do you mean, you have an 'in'?"

Now he's interested. You smile to yourself.

Your target is the most powerful family in the city. Breaking into their inner circle won't be easy, as they have deep, intricate connections. Even the most calculated assassins wouldn't dare cross that line.

But you've spent more than half of your life preparing for this, investing countless hours in planning and scheming. All you need now is a triggerman, and not just any triggerman—you want somebody who can annihilate your enemies.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," you tease him, holding back your pocket aces until he calls your wager.

"Listen," he says impatiently, "I don't have time for games."

"You think I'm playing a game?" you laugh humorlessly. "This is so much bigger than that. These people made the mistake of letting me live. I'll make them regret it."

Your agitation continues to build up. You've been in contact with him for nearly a month now, not counting the time he was offline. He was the only one who responded to messages after revealing your intended target. You don't want him to ghost you again - you're so close! You need him. You soften your tone and push your luck again. "Please. Is there anything I can do to seal this deal? Maybe we can meet?"

"I don't meet," he cuts you off, his finger absently grazing the scar over his eye. He glances at the timer on his screen and sees that he's been on the phone with you for nearly two minutes. He makes a mental note to reconfigure his network scrambler once he ends this call. "And I'm already breaking my rules by calling you," he says wryly, but you're still not about to let him off the hook.

"So why then? Why even call me? Why string me along?"

After a few beats, he says, “I was curious to find out what you sounded like.”

“And?”

Yoongi was never one to back down from a challenge. One last job, he thought. And maybe, once he’s eliminated these targets, he could have some of that peace and freedom that you yearned for.

“Turns out, I like your voice, too.”

Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

#bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x you #btsafterdarknet #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #myg angst #percussions x myg

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muniimyg · 1 year

Note

AHHH KIMI! I’m so excited for f2f !! I have yet to finish Your Universe because I’m in 😭 D E N I AL 😭 (I’ll get to it by the end of the week, I know I can 🫡) but can I please be added to the f2f taglist? Thank you 💕💕

hehehehee why are you in denial 😭😭😭 that’s a river in egypt………

#ask muni #fic: f2f knj #taglist: f2f knj #💭: yoongukie ff #fic: youniverse myg

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thearmyprof · 11 months

Text

Endless Sea, but the water is warm here Ch. 8

Rating: E

Pairing: Yoongi/Original Character

Word count: 6174

Chapters: 8/?

Genre: Modern Fantasy!AU, Idol!AU, Canon Divergent,

Warnings: NSFW, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

Overview post: https://at.tumblr.com/thearmyprof/endless-sea-but-the-water-is-warm-here/h8ruhjcuzs62

Summary:

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45497923

Full Tags:

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Eunha picks up a heavy rock, a little too large for her fist and throws it overhand past the small waves lapping at the rocky shore. It makes a satisfying plopping sound as it hits the water’s surface.

“Did you see that?” the boy calls out from several paces down the rocky shore. “I think it bounced like seven times before it sank!”

“Good job, Dan,” Eunha says with a smile.

The boy runs over to her, brilliant smile across his face. He pulls her to him with one arm around her shoulder.

“What’s up, E? You’re so grumpy today,” Daniel frowns down at her. “What’s going on?”

Eunha shrugs, keeping her eyes out on the grey horizon. It’s not a true muted grey, like the other expanse of water she’s had the displeasure of seeing, but a beautiful, multidimensional grey mixed with blues. The cold wind whips up around them, enveloping them in the salty smell of the ocean.

“What if we just stayed here?” she asks, eyes still trained on distant sea and sky. “Just got a little house and stayed here together?”

“Middle of nowhere Oregon coast? Sure! Sounds good to me,” Daniel replies. “We could open an ice cream parlor. Maybe we can trick the dumber tourists into thinking this is the Twilight town.”

Despite her melancholy, Eunha snorts out a laugh. “It’s fucking freezing, Dan. Ice cream? Really?”

“Well, maybe hot chocolate when it’s cold out. Ice cream for the tourists in the summer?”

“So, a hot chocolate parlor for ten months of the year and an ice cream parlor for two?” Eunha says as she grins.

“Now you’re talking,” Dan says. “But why are we suddenly moving to the beach?”

Eunha’s smile fades and she lets out a sigh. After a pause to watch a blue heron fly overhead, she says, “My uncle just came back from Korea. My parents want me to go to school in Portland and apprentice with him.

She kicks at a rock that rolls haphazardly to the surf, but never makes it. The young man squeezes her shoulder tighter.

“I never asked for this,” Eunha says with a strangled voice. “I never fucking asked for this shit.”

“I know,” Dan says quietly. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll both be 18 soon and graduated and fuck ‘em. Right?”

“Right,” Eunha chokes out with an aborted sob. She takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. “Fuck them. Just because it’s in my blood does not mean I have to follow them.”

“Fuck yes, that’s right. First step, graduation. Second step, Seoul. We’re young and we’ve got the whole world at our feet,” Dan says with a manic grin on his face. “Your dreams are going to come true. I can’t wait to be there with you when they do.”

Eunha wakes with a startled cry as the memory-turned-dream still echoes in her head. She immediately bites down on her lip to keep more sounds from waking the rest of the house. She looks down in the dim light to see Mina sleeping peacefully. Eunha lets out a sigh of relief. Mina is safe. That’s all that matters.

If she looks back on the past week, it comes to her in snapshots. Oddly still images, the movement slightly blurred. Yoongi orchestrating her discharge from the hospital. Eunha spending the rest of the day snuggled up next to Mina, whispering assurances and checking the girl over as if she were the one that had disappeared. Seeing her box of belongings sent from Rancid House. Knowing she’s been fired for being abducted. Knowing this as soon as her eyes landed on her things. Not feeling anything about it at all.

Not feeling much of anything at all.

After a day of watching movies and reading books in the living room, Eunha says she’s ready to talk. Yoongi brings in his head of security, Kim Minkyu, to sit down with Eunha to get every detail she could remember of her abductors, the club, and anything else that would help him keep everyone safe. She glosses over some of her own magical abilities, leaving her escape up to more coincidence and luck than anything else, which, if she’s honest, is fairly true. She also avoids mention of the Sidhe in Incheon or any other supernatural connections.

Upon her insistence, Yoongi sits with her for the entire conversation with Kim Minkyu. His jaw clenching and his nails digging crescents into his palms as he listened to everything that Eunha went through. Eunha, on the other hand, remains stoic and emotionless. Possibly that makes Yoongi even more furious at the situation. Despite his internal agony, he keeps his thoughts and emotions to himself, letting himself be a rock for Eunha to lean against.

Eunha also remembers at one point during the week, Yoongi and one of Yoongi’s lawyers filing an extensive grievance against the hospital for the way the staff conducted themselves around her. She had been reluctant but the lawyer made some very convincing points about accountability and the other patients that will eventually land themselves with the same awful staff. Mostly she went along with it because it took more energy to fight it than not. Mostly she just did not care to feel anything about it at all.

The week had been a lot. Eunha feels a little bit lost, as if floating outside herself, and very exhausted.

Still reeling from the dream of another seaside from a lifetime ago, Eunha slides carefully out from under the covers, biting her tongue as the pain in her rib radiates through her chest. The more superficial wounds had healed, but the rib would take weeks, the doctor said. Eunha gingerly clutches her side as she makes her way to the bathroom.

After splashing water on her face, she shuffles out to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. The silent clock on the wall says it’s 4 in the morning, as she leans against the counter squinting at it while the water heats up.

“Can’t sleep?” Yoongi’s scratchy voice sounds too loud in the otherwise quiet house.

Eunha grips her own arms where they are crossed against her chest, trying not to show how startled she is. She shakes her head in reply. After a breath she asks, “Tea?”

“Please,” Yoongi murmurs and sits down on one of the stools at the counter.

Eunha glances at him. He’s in an oversized white tee and his dark hair is sticking up in odd places. What’s most alarming to her are the dark circles under his eyes.

“Are you okay, Yoongi?” she asks.

He gives a half-hearted grunt in reply.

Eunha gets two mugs out of the cupboard along with some calming tea. She lets the silence blanket them while the water begins to boil.

Once the tea is steeping in the cups and she’s leaning against the counter again, she says, “Shall I distract you with a story?”

Yoongi eyes widen in what she thinks must be veiled surprise. Eventually, he replies, “Sure.”

“When I was a teenager. My best friend and I would take these trips out to the coast. To the beach. There was a campground that almost no one, but locals knew about. I don’t remember how Dan found it in the first place, but he was good with stuff like that. Finding hidden gems.”

Eunha pauses at that comment, realizing the deeper meaning behind it—he had found her, hadn’t he, when she was hidden.

Yoongi waits patiently, eyes curious, but otherwise his body is unmoving.

“They had these yurts. Like little one room cabins, but not nearly as nice as a cabin. Honestly, they had seen better days and probably that’s why we were able to rent them for so cheap. So, when school got to be too much or we needed to let off steam, we’d just hop in Dan’s car and drive out to stay in a yurt for the weekend.”

Eunha watches as Yoongi’s lip twitch in the beginning of a smile. She grabs the mugs and sets one down in front of him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. After a sip, he asks, “Your parents just let you take off for the weekend like that?”

“Well, they didn’t strictly know,” Eunha laughs faintly at that. “They certainly didn’t know I was driving all the way to the coast to stay in a one room cabin with a boy.”

Yoongi quirks his eyebrow at that, taking a long sip of his tea.

“We weren’t really troublemakers though. Dan was a straight-A student. The worst thing we did on our beach weekends was hustle the local arcade out of their cute stuffed toys because they didn’t know how to stack the crane machine the right way. Made it way too easy to win the toys.”

Eunha smiles at the memory. She laughs as she says, “The stink eye that the manager of that place gave us. Dan would shove the stuffed animals into my arm, grab my hand, and whisper dramatically ‘run’ and we’d be off running back to our little yurt.”

Eunha takes a sip of tea, trying to hold onto the happiness of the memory a little longer. She says, “I don’t know why I was thinking of that all of the sudden. I had a dream about it. That’s why I woke up. Remembering those weekends on the coast. Feels like another lifetime. I guess it is almost like another lifetime.”

“Sounds fun,” Yoongi says. “Sounds like my teenage self who used to sneak out to underground rap shows and competitions.”

“Yeah,” Eunha smiles in agreement. She winces slightly when she chuckles, rib aching. “Growing up in Korea must have been so different. I feel like I had a lot of freedom, growing up in the States.”

“You grew up in the U.S.?” Yoongi asks. This time the surprise is clear on his face.

“Yeah, my parents moved us over when I was pretty young,” Eunha says. “We were living in the middle of nowhere Oregon. Very pretty, but very lonely. Dan was one of my only friends growing up. Mina was actually born there.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says as he contemplates this information.

Eunha finishes her tea and rinses her mug in the sink. When she turns back Yoongi is sipping down the last of his cup.

“Where is Dan now?” Yoongi asks as he stands to take his cup to the sink to rinse.

Eunha feels the lump in her throat and tries to swallow it down. When she trusts herself, she says, “He died. But it was a while ago now. Guess it’s been a little over 9 years.”

Yoongi is frozen at his place at the sink. After a few seconds, it’s like someone hit the “play” button and he unpauses to set the mug down on the drying rack. He turns to face Eunha and she can’t bear to look at his face when he says, “I’m really sorry, Eunha.”

Eunha just shakes her head. “It was a long time ago.”

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter. Not really,” Yoongi says softly.

Eunha shakes her head again and can feel a single tear track down her cheek. “No, sometimes it doesn’t.”

Before she knows what’s happening, Yoongi embraces her in a hug. Nothing too overpowering or intrusive, just enough to be considered a hug. His chin is lightly hooked over her shoulder, barely touching. But it’s the most friendly contact she’s had with another person who isn’t Mina in a long time. And everywhere his body is touching hers, she can feel the warm buzz settling under her skin. Instead of the frenetic feeling of life that overwhelms, she feels settled, sated. It’s almost like the resonance between his soul and her own is at such a harmony that everything feels a little bit more complete.

“You feel so alive,” Eunha whispers before her filter snaps into place.

“What?” Yoongi asks, his hands gently pressing, palms splayed, up and down her back.

“I- I can feel souls through touch,” Eunha says. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this.”

“I want to know, if you want to tell me,” Yoongi murmurs. She can feel his warm breath along her neck, sending goosebumps rising across her skin.

Eunha swallows. She is surprised at how very much she does want to tell him. “I can feel a person’s soul, but mostly on physical contact. It can be a lot.”

Yoongi tenses and goes to pull away, but Eunha shoots her arms forward to wrap around his waist and pull him back in. She plants herself more firmly against his chest, chin tucked in, face buried at his collarbone.

“Please stay,” Eunha whispers so quietly, she’s positive Yoongi can’t actually hear her. “You make me feel safe.”

As soon as she says the words out loud, she feels like she’s plummeting off a cliff—a very tall cliff. Yoongi does make her feel safe and that’s terrifying. She’s not trusted or relied on another person, let alone allowed someone to make her feel safe, in almost a decade. Instead she has only known fear and loneliness and death. While she supposedly is the one that can tame the waters in the river of Death, she feels death follows the people in her life as if vindictive against her personally. As much as she wants to feel safe in Yoongi’s arms, to feel the beautiful resonance of their two souls, she wants to keep him safe more.

“I- I need to go check on Mina. You- you should go back to sleep. There’s still time left before the day really starts,” Eunha says as she’s pulling away from Yoongi’s embrace. “Good night, Yoongi-ssi.”

Without looking back she walks quickly down the hallway. There is an aching hole in her chest that has nothing to do with her broken rib.

Eunha stands in the shower, staring blankly at the tiled wall in front of her, letting the hot water run over her, steam clouding the room. A week passes and sleep becomes increasingly elusive. Each night, she awakens, unrested, not from reliving nightmares of the club or Park Donghyun, but of bittersweet memories of a time long past. She feels exhausted and utterly numb. She doesn’t know how long she stands in the shower, feeling nothing but the sensation of hot water massaging her tired muscles, until she finally goes through the motions of getting out, drying off, and padding back into the bedroom.

She watches moonlight track across the floor of the guest room while Mina sleeps soundly next to her. After so many nights awake in the wee hours, Eunha’s become accustomed to the silence. She’s not thinking of the dreams (nightmares) that woke her up. She’s not thinking of the tasks she needs to complete tomorrow (there are none). She’s not thinking about the fact that she’s unemployed and needs to find a job. She’s not thinking about Mina, holed away in this fancy Hannam the Hill apartment, who deserves a normal childhood. She’s not thinking of anything at all. If anything, her mind is blessedly blank—grey like the river in Death and just as calm.

The sun rises and Mina stirs. Eunha continues to sit while her daughter gets ready for the day and leaves the room, presumably to get breakfast Yoongi most likely prepared—as he has been doing every day since their arrival. Eunha ignores the goings-on around her, feeling heavy like her limbs are filled with stones. Her head is fuzzy, like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and all the thoughts she might have are too sleepy to come out.

“Eunha-ssi?” Eunha hears a voice calling her name. How long have they been calling her name?

She looks up to see Seokjin standing a little awkwardly in the doorway. Jacket on as if he just arrived or is just leaving. The hand he has leaning against the doorframe is fidgeting with the wood edging.

“I was wondering if your Mina would like to come to a birthday party for my nephew. He’s young, but some older cousins are invited. I thought it might be nice for her to play with some other kids? I thought it would be nice for her to get out of the house for a little bit,” he says, looking a little nervous.

Eunha blinks at him trying to process his words. After a moment, she asks, “Did you ask her already?”

“Oh, well, I did mention it, just to see if she was interested,” he answers. “She seemed interested?”

“Oh,” Eunha says. That’s unexpected.

“I can go with her, if you don’t want her going with hyung alone,” Yoongi chimes in as he sidles up behind Jin in the doorway. “She didn’t seem that worried about it though. You could stay and get some rest.”

“Oh,” Eunha says again.

The two men in the door watch Eunha carefully. She doesn’t notice the worried creases in their brows or their slightly downturned lips or the tension they are carrying in their shoulders.

“Okay, I mean, if she’s okay with it,” Eunha says. She thinks her voice sounds far away, but she’s pretty sure she’s the one talking. “But please go with her?”

She asks the last question directly of Yoongi, giving him a glance in the eye. She drops her gaze again as soon as she sees his quick nod of assent.

When the men leave the room again, Eunha continues staring at the floor wondering how long she’d been in the same position. Her joints creak and her head pounds as she finally moves to get up. She realizes, for the first time since the abduction, that maybe something is wrong with her. The word “depression” floats through her consciousness, but doesn’t find much to attach itself to.

Still, despite the weight in her limbs and on her chest, feeling more motivation than she’s felt since fleeing the rooftop apartment, Eunha showers and changes into fresh clothes. Then she retrieves her haegeum case from the corner where she’d stashed all the things Yoongi had rescued from Rancid House. She looks around the room and decides on the spot of carpeting that is currently bathed in afternoon sunlight.

Sitting cross-legged, she opens the instrument case and runs her fingers lovingly across the picture tucked into the pocket. Then she pulls out the haegeum and bow, tightening the strings, thinking of the symbols she wants to use first. She pauses for only a moment and then bends over to grab a pen out of the haegeum case as well.

Knowing how well spelled and protected the apartment building is, Eunha does not waste too much energy on the protective spell around her own body. It’s only there as a precaution and as a warning to any other apartment occupants not to accidentally disturb her. Then she pulls the symbols for warmth, entangling them with the sunlight already present around her body. Strengthening the natural environment is easier than conjuring something from scratch. This type of heat, too, should help carry her as far as she needs to go in the river—much further than her latest jaunts into death.

Before she steps into death, she visualizes the symbols for messages, light, and connection, with a drawn out note on her haegeum. A small paper lantern appears in front of her lap. Taking the pen, she writes a small prayer on the outer paper of the lantern and then tucks it to herself, careful not to rip the delicate construction.

The river is cold, but the sun-strengthened warmth that encases her body helps fight off the frigidness. Eunha allows herself a moment to get her bearings. She lets herself do something she hasn’t in over a decade. She shuts her eyes, feeling out with her senses, the terrain under the water, trying to triangulate her location. Once she has a good idea of where she is, she makes sure her haegeum and bow are secure in one hand and the delicate lantern is secure in the other. She slowly steps forward, feet finding their way on well worn paths beneath the tricky water’s surface. While she might fight the memories of her training in the ways of death, her body remembers. So, she walks, carefully but confidently, further into death.

Yoongi already regrets letting Seokjin-hyung convince him to take Mina to this birthday party. It’s chaos. There are children from infant to pre-teen running around everywhere, seemingly hopped up on candy, cake, and excitement. He and Mina stand, his hands resting protectively on Mina’s tense, tiny shoulders in front of him, and watch as children run past screaming.

A middle-aged woman, wearing a green apron and looking considerably overwhelmed, walks by. She pauses at the two strange statue-like people in the front hallway.

“Come on it, no need to stand at the door,” she says and waves the two into the home. “There are drinks in the kitchen.”

There’s a look of faint amusement on her face as Yoongi startles, realizing they are being somewhat rude. He remains speechless, though, as another (or is it the same and they are just running in circles?) gaggle of children run by screaming.

The woman chuckles to herself and says, “Once you settle your daughter, the adults are all in the dining room. They are going to do cake in about a half an hour.”

Trying to process what the woman is saying with chaos continually erupting around them, his brain also catches the fact that this stranger had assumed Mina is his daughter. His body reacts first, flushing hot in embarrassment. He can feel the blush blossoming across his skin all the way to his ears. He’s thankful for the bucket hat pulled snugly over his head and the mask on his face.

He glances down at Mina now, checking to make sure she’s not too uncomfortable. She’s standing directly in front of him, back plastered to his legs. His large hands are still draped carefully on her shoulders. She doesn’t seem to be listening to the woman at all, but focusing on the chaos swirling around them.

What Yoongi asks out loud, when he finally realizes he should be conversing instead of staring, the horror clear in his tone, “You mean these children haven’t even had cake yet?”

“No, of course not,” the woman answers curtly, completely missing the tone of Yoongi’s question. Before she can continue talking to Yoongi, something catches her eye from the other room. She yells, “Oh Minho, put that down this instant. I will call your mother!”

She storms off without a backward glance to dumbstruck pair in the front hall. After a few moments of standing frozen, Yoongi moves to kneel in front of Mina, hands still comfortingly grasping her shoulders. He doesn’t know if it’s for her comfort or his.

“Mina-yah, if this is too much, we can go home, okay?” Yoongi looks into the little girl’s face to see if he could read how she’s feeling.

She looks at him distractedly, eyes flickering back and forth between his face and the chaos swirling outside their little bubble.

“Mina-yah?” Yoongi tries again. “Do you want to go?”

She gives a small, quick shake of her head and takes a step closer to Yoongi.

“You want to stay?” he asks, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Mina nods one quick nod, but otherwise remains still.

“Okay,” he says as he gives a squeeze to her shoulders. “How about we stick together for a bit?”

Another quick nod from the girl and Yoongi stands slowly. He relinquishes her shoulders to face the maelstrom within the apartment.

They find a semi-quiet corner to sequester themselves in. Mina sits, nestled up against Yoongi’s side as if he will disappear if Mina loses physical contact, and watches the children run around. Yoongi is scrolling through his phone, perfectly content to spend the entire party just like this. Fate and busybody mothers, it seems, feel he need not be left in peace.

A group of women, perhaps a decade older than himself, gravitate toward him from wherever they had been previously, clearly drawn to the new face in the crowd.

“Who do we have here?” one of the women asks.

Yoongi looks up from his phone to see the women, five of them, and all pretty, put together in a bougie Seoul-elite way, and all staring at the awkward pair of wallflowers. He can’t tell who spoke as they ring around him, so he doesn’t know who to address, which is just as well since he doesn’t really want to respond anyway.

“I think they came with Seokjin-ah, dear boy,” a woman with platinum blonde hair says.

Another one of them titters and says, “Hyorin, you sound like such an ahjumma. Seokjinnie-ah is not that much younger than us. Are you Seokjin’s friend?”

All the women turn to face Yoongi expectantly. Yoongi swallows. He says with a small bow, “Uh, yes, nice to meet you. I’m just escorting the daughter of a family friend today.”

He winces to himself internally when he realizes he’s thrown Mina under the bus a bit, but she doesn’t seem to mind. When he glances at her, she doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to the now-gawking women at all, but rather watching further into the room as children continue to run around screaming.

“Did you want to go and play?” Yoongi murmurs to her. A quick shake of her head lets him know they will probably be sitting here for a bit longer.

The women soon give up trying to converse with Yoongi and Mina once they realize one is only going to give them single word answers and the other doesn’t speak at all. However, much to Yoongi’s dismay, they don’t leave either, but instead stay floating around the quiet pair gossiping amongst themselves. He does realize at some point one of them actually recognizes him and somehow telepathically relays that information to the rest of the group because, while they don’t pry, they do seem very keen on keeping him a part of the conversation.

“Did you hear about Counselman Yong Songjin?” the blonde woman asks, leaning in as if worried about being overheard.

A couple of the women nod and they all look solemn as if someone had died.

“You mean that young, good looking one?” another woman answers eventually. “The one with the video scandal?”

“Yes, that’s the one!” a different woman replies.

The blonde nods and says, “Some are saying they want to hold an emergency election and have him removed.”

She leans even further in and all the other women follow suit, creating a tight wall of bodies around Yoongi and Mina. Yoongi shifts uncomfortably at their proximity and regrets leaving his bodyguard in the car.

“Mental illness,” the blonde whispers. “That’s what they’re saying.”

The women let out surprised gasps. Yoongi works hard to not roll his eyes at the dramatic scene.

“But he’s so young,” someone says.

“And handsome,” another says.

The women titter. As if the mental stability of a government official is some light-hearted joke.

“What scandal?” Yoongi hears himself say out loud. He immediately clamps his jaw shut with a click. He is not interested in participating in this farce of a conversation.

More gasps from the women, this time at his horrifying ignorance of current events.

The blonde is the one that gives him a pitying look before explaining, “Counselman Yong Songjin has been going around saying that vampire and magic are real. And not only real, but happening all around us.”

“Of course vampires are real, Hyorin-ssi,” another woman says. “Just because that sort of thing doesn’t happen around here, doesn’t mean it’s not real. No, what Counselman Yong is saying is that vampires are in control of everything. He’s saying they control the banks, the businesses, the government.”

A couple of the women shudder.

“Soyeon-ssi, not so loud,” the blonde says. Then her eyes flicker down to Mina, as if remembering there is a child present. “Let’s not speak of such taboo things now. If the Counselman is correct, then I hope he does as he says and steps up to fix things. We can just have magicians and vampires running around the nicer parts of Seoul unchecked, now can we?”

“You don’t think this is a ploy for the next election, do you?” one of the other women says.

“Well, he’s handsome enough for my vote, crazy or not,” the blonde retorts, giggling. The other women respond with their own conspiratorial giggles.

Yoongi’s brow furrows as he thinks about what he just learned. Granted, he’s been a bit distracted the last few weeks and not been keeping up with current news. He files the conversation away for now, and mentally reminds himself to look up more about this counselman later.

Suddenly, the woman in the green apron that had talked to Yoongi and Mina in the front hallway appears, shoving her way between two of the women. She looks around, suspiciously, and then says, “We’re going to light the candles on the cake now. Come sing.”

All the women disperse immediately, excited at the birthday party’s progress. Yoongi stands up, grumbling under his breath about how the children at this party certainly did not need any more sugar. He reaches down and takes Mina’s hand in his. She sticks close to his leg as they follow the gaggle of tittering gossips to the cake.

The waters of death can be quite tricky. When one looks out on the river, their eyes meet an expansive grey plane, as if looking on the largest and calmest of oceans. However, any good traveler in death knows this is an illusion. The river itself has many currents that pull a wanderer this way and that. And the ground under one’s feet is not a flat riverbed, but rather a terrain all its own with elevation gains and losses and treacherous cliffs. The river at the entryway to death is shallow, flat, and calm. The deeper into death one walks, the more perilous the path becomes.

Eunha doesn’t know how long she’s been walking for. Time also loses much of its meaning in death. Here, time is slippery and doesn’t match the plane of the living. Here, everything is hazardous.

She trudges forward, slowly and carefully, feeling for a sure footing with each step. While her body propels her further down her path by rote memory, the river is also eager for her to continue, not putting up much of a fight as she walks. If anything, the waters seem to playfully pull and tug at her body, urging her on, urging her to be faster.

She doesn’t give into that playfulness, though. She knows to keep her guard up. One wrong move and she can slip. Once under the water, it would surely pull her along further faster than she wants. She’s not ready for that journey yet.

The further Eunha travels on, the colder the water becomes around her. The depth has water lapping at her waist as she walks and she’s glad for the extra-strength warming spell she cast before she entered the river. Even with it warming her corporeal body, the iciness of the water is starting to numb her lower half.

Finally, she reaches the spot she’s been looking for. To the untrained eye, nothing looks different about this spot in the river. If not for the water being waist deep, this could be the entrance of the river. However, Eunha feels the insistent tug here and feels the bend in the path at her feet. She’s come to the first gateway in the river.

The gateways, like the river itself, can be tricky to travelers. They are meant to be the passageways, seven in total, that the dead pass through on their final journey. As they are carried along by the river, the gateways signify the distance the soul has from their previous life. Souls trying to come back to life must be incredibly strong to pass back through the gateways upriver. Each gateway holding its own traps and deceptions to prevent such malfeasance.

The air here is different, too, not the stale nothingness that the river has smelled of thus far. The air has hints of dark and damp, an earthy and loamy scent. Despite the smell and the almost-frantic pull of the current, the gateway is soundless—the embodiment of a deathly silence.

For what Eunha is about to do, she knows she needs to be at least to the first gateway. She hopes this is far enough for what she’s planning. She’s not come prepared to travel further than this today.

Haegeum and bow still held tight in one hand, Eunha holds the paper lantern in front of her face. She squints at it to make sure no harm came to it while she was traversing the river. Happy that it is still intact, she sets it gently on the surface of the water.

She bends over to get closer to the floating lantern, bobbing softly in the current. She imagines the symbols for summoning, visitation, and smooth sailing. After taking in a deep breath, Eunha lets out a hum and blows on the lantern. A small flame flickers to life inside of it and it sets off on the course made by her breath.

She straightens up and watches the lantern float away past the gateway and out onto the horizon of the river. She repeats the prayer she had written on the outside of the lantern’s paper to herself as she watches it go.

Only when the lantern and its faint glowing light are no longer visible against the monotonous landscape does Eunha allow herself to think. The first thing she thinks is to question whether she should be doing this. She doesn’t let the thought plague her for long. Instead, she turns her attention to the heavy feeling inside of her, the numbness of emotion that’s overtaken her the last couple of weeks. Something is wrong, she knows it. However, that worry doesn’t spark the anxiety she thinks it should. That thought in and of itself is worrying. Still, it’s a worry that feels distant and apart from her.

Everything below her waist slowly goes numb. She thinks she should be worrying about that too. If her legs and feet are numb, it’s going to be harder, more treacherous, on her way back to the doorway home. She can’t do anything about that now, though. She’s already used the lantern. She knows to turn back before it has had its effect will be a waste, with the lantern’s limited uses. Plus, she rationalizes to herself, if she doesn’t stay to make sure the lantern has worked the way it is supposed to, she won’t know what other accidental souls might be summoned.

Mostly, thought, she just doesn’t feel enough to care. She knows she should be preserving her life. There are reasons to be home. Mina. Her music. Yoongi. But she doesn’t feel much of anything at all. Only a logical, disconnected voice in her head, telling her she will want to be alive later when emotion returns, keeps her from letting go entirely where she stands.

Before long she can see the shimmer of a figure approaching on what appears to be the horizon of the water. The shimmer is faint, the greyness infusing the person, as happens to all souls who reside here. At first, the shimmer is faint and Eunha has to squint to see it. But soon, the figure is getting closer, making their way up the river.

They aren’t walking, but rather floating along the surface, as if their feet are made of light buoys under the water. They bob and float, rather than walk like a corporeal body would. The stillness of the water helps them traverse the space quickly.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, the person—or rather, soul of a person—is before Eunha. They are all grey and blurry, edges all undefined. The waters of death have eroded away this soul as it does all souls who come here, until they are simply part of the river again, ready to be poured out again in life.

Eunha smiles at the floating soul in front of her, not really able to make out recognizable shapes or patterns of the person they used to be. But their vibrations she recognizes. Their soul she is intimately familiar with. Even though the soul doesn’t have a discernible face, she feels them returning her smile.

However, when the soul comes to a floating stop in front of her and speaks, the voice is the same as it has always been. Waves of nostalgia and longing run through Eunha’s body as she hears the familiar, “What’s up, E?”

#thearmyprof #bts ff #bts fanfic #myg #bts fantasy au #fae bts #bts angst

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