#seokjin x oc

[cravetive]

𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂

☾ ⋆*･ Pairings: Meteorologist! Jin x Fem!reader

☾ ⋆*･ Synopsis: after many failed relationships you find yourself struggling to open up to new connections but once you overhear that your timid colleague Seokjin has a crush on you, you set out to play a game of temptation where somewhere in the process, you come face to face with the sudden realization that the weather is not the only unpredictable thing.

☾ ⋆*･ Warnings: SMUT! workplace/office au, Jin is quiet and innocent until he's not, fingering, oral sex! ( M! receiving ), dirty talk, creampie ( hehe) , teasing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, hardcore, a bit angsty ( im an angst slut leave me alone ) , foreplay , slight dom/sub dynamics, kissing, biting/marking, we will pray Y/n gets her life together.

☾ ⋆*･ Authors note: I wish I could tell you what I've done but this is what my brain produces when I'm on 5 hours of sleep.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ Word count: 10 K ( for what reason?)

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Ever since you were conscious you would often find yourself lost in the sky - entrained on the sun, the moon, and the stars but most importantly on the weather. Even before you could walk You wondered what caused thunders to ripple through the clouds, worried over the sun that disappeared during rainfall. You were fixated, overly obsessed and it is what had led you to become a research meteorologist and whilst some found the profession to be boring and fruitless (your parents), there was nothing in the world that you loved most then to predict cloudy skies and cold nights. Being able to observe, understand, and therefore explain the earth's atmospheric phenomenons offers you a sense of gratification.

On the other hand you couldn’t say you ran with the same luck when it came to love and relationships, your long list of exes and failed talking stages were enough scientific evidence to prove that. Things just never ended well between you and whoever fate decided to send your way. you could never decipher if it was due to the lack of communication, lack of interest, or a little bit of both that prevented you from harvesting anything solid with those you fell in love with but it always left you high and dry. It wasn’t like you were a hopeless romantic either, yet the instincts you had when it came to forecasting sunny skies were just not there when it came to romance.

To put it bluntly, your relationships just didn’t last and it had brought you to a point where you questioned all your romantic interactions.

How long will this one last? How long until this one ends? Will we see each other in public and turn the other way?

It's why you struggled to get your feelings across most times, it's why you found it almost impossible to tell that certain person who sat across from you at work how he made you feel.

The timid and reserved Junior meteorologist didn’t catch your attention at first, always keeping to himself and rarely participating in any after work activities with your co-workers, which had made it almost impossible for you to even notice him. that was until 3 weeks ago during a mandatory work dinner. Whilst on a small bathroom break you had unintentionally walked into a game of truth and dare between your colleagues where by perhaps fate you had eavesdropped on the confession of that very same drunken man.

You had opted to feign ignorance, slipping back into the table as if nothing had happened all whilst deciding to commence a cruel game against the meek man. You would find yourself teasing him, subtly flirting until his cheeks turned red and his words turned into stutters. At first it was a childish fun ruse but as time progressed you found yourself looking in his direction more often, entranced by his smile and quiet charisma.

You were doomed and yet, it didn’t stop you from taunting him. small winks and little comments of how good he looked in his baseball caps and soft sweaters, causing him to often jolt as a response. It was harmless until it wasn’t, until you started imagining him between your legs, his large and skillful hands wrapped around your neck.

“for fucks sake” Daiyu, your best friend and colleague huffed as she ran towards the entrance, her freshly styled copper hair drenched with rain that poured from the sunny sky. You giggled, closing your umbrella and entering the building, your heels squeaking against the marbled floors. Daiyu followed after you, a trail of curses falling from her mouth whilst her hands frantically wiped at her wet clothes.

“I always tell you to carry an umbrella and you never listen” you sighed.

“It was a 30% chance!” she exclaimed, reaching to frantically press on the elevator button.

“I should sue you guys” Daiyu groaned.

You looked back at her, taking in her flustered and soaked appearance, deciding not to pass further judgment. Daiyu was as stubborn as a bull and anything that you chose to say would just  go  through one ear and out the other anyways. you reached into your purse and grabbed a napkin, extending it out for her to take. She snatched it urgently and dabbed on her face, emitting a groan of frustration at the inconvenience the sky had caused her.

“It was so sunny and warm outside” she complained, which caused you to laugh loudly, both of you stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open.

“Looks can be deceiving Daiyu” you noted, watching as the doors closed in front of you.

Daiyu smirked, disregarding your statement and focusing on the current situation you were in. her mind going back to the late-night conversation you both had shared 2 days ago over wine and expensive cheese. She leaned over closer to you, her eyebrows teasingly raising while you shared a bewildered expression on your face.

“what?” you asked, concerned with her inquisitive glances.

“I guess the same thing can be said about Jin,” Daiyu winked, a hint of excitement in her tone. She goaded you to speak on the subject, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“I bet he is a real beast in the sheets” Daiyu raised her eyebrows.

“Daiyu please, this is not the time or place to have this conversation” you scolded - eyes fixed on the numbers that flashed on the small screen above the elevator panel. 

“I guess you are deceiving - look at you all serious now like you aren't torturing that poor man.”

“Daiyu” your eyes widened and she was lucky you were both alone in the elevator - out of hearing range of any nosy employee’s. 

“I didn’t share that with you so that you can hold it over my head” you snapped, making a quick escape as soon as the elevator doors opened.

“oh come on!” she shouted after you, the sound of her heels echoing inside the office as she chased after you, her arm interlinking with yours when she caught up. you didn’t intend to avoid the topic, in fact you found it relieving to be able to speak to someone freely about it but what Daiyu was trying to indicate with her previous statements were by far completely illogical. 

Jin was but a shy and reserved guy, not the kind that tried to deceive by putting on appearances. 

How else was he able to contain himself by your constant teasing and flirting, if he wasn’t.

“we will talk about this later” you declared, giving her a soft shove towards her desk. Daiyu pouted, providing you a saddened glance whilst reluctantly dragging herself to her desk where she threw herself into her chair in rather dramatic defeat. You giggled at the scene she produced and walked across the room, reaching your own desk.

Seokjin was already there, too focused on the screen in front of him to notice your arrival. You took this time to take in his appearance. the sweater he wore accentuating his biceps and broad shoulders, the pair of glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose causing a pulsation between your thighs - lured by the image of him crawling over you with them on. You cleared your throat quickly, grabbing his attention and interrupting your perverted train of thought.

He glanced up at you, cheeks already turning pink as he took in your presence.

“Good Morning Mr. Kim” you whispered, offering him a smug smile whilst sliding into your chair. It took a moment for him to respond, his eyes briefly falling on the low v neck blouse you decided to wear today (one of your many little tricks of course). His lips parted, a gulp traveling down his throat. He quickly removed his eyes from your accentuated breasts, dragging his attention back to his screen.

“G-good Morning” he stumbled on the phrase, his tone quiet and faint.

you smiled out of satisfaction, unable to suppress the butterflies in your stomach that only he managed to make flutter. Seokjin is sexy in the most subtle ways; he doesn’t even try and yet he could make you squirm in your seat like a schoolgirl. His full lips, his deep intense eyes, and dorky smile kindled a pressure in your lower abdomen that you often tried to conceal by crossing your legs. 

“I like that color on you, you look good” you complimented, offering Jin a small smirk.

Jin glanced down at his sweater, his hands smoothing out the cashmere deep blue material. He had liked the color, had even thought it was a nice sweater when he first picked it out at the store but having its tincture complimented by you now, gave it a new feeling - it felt softer against his skin.

“thank you” he almost muttered.

You nodded happily, bringing your hair into a ponytail as you always did when beginning the day. Jin’s eyes hesitantly trailed your exposed neck, carving out the smoothness of your skin and studying each detail of the necklace that hung there - soon halting at the sight of your lips, a breath hitching in his throat. 

“You like what you see, Mr. Kim?” you asked, your eyes sparking with the realization of his discreet stare.

Jin sat up,your voice startling him out of his daze - his eyes now looking in every direction but yours.

“cause you can see more if you want, you just have to ask” your voice was a mere whisper and Jin could feel every hair in his body stand up from your tone alone. There was a long silence, your eyes intensively studying his composure. He moved his attention back on his computer screen, deciding it would be best to ignore the comment that made his heart run laps inside his chest all together.

“Hey Jin” you called, his eyes quickly moving back to you with hesitation.

“I'm only joking” you lied.

You would've allowed him to see your entire soul if he had just asked.

The day had turned sour rather quickly, the entire office thrown into a frenzy by the threat of an incoming spring storm and it had left you running in circles all throughout the building, your heels beginning to jab into your feet painfully- leaving your soles red and sore. You groaned, stepping into the cafeteria for the first time in the day, finally allowing yourself a small break amidst the hysteria. You needed coffee and you needed it fast. Your heavy eyes scanned the cabinet in search for your favorite mug - propping yourself on your toes for a better view. 

“Where the hell did I put you?” you muttered under your breath, your hands pushing away various mugs in an attempt to find the deep emerald one you always used. Your shoulders ached, weighed down by the tumultuous day and your eyes burned, the result of staring at your computer screen for 4 hours straight. Not finding your mug would be the last straw, the drop of water that would make you spill over. You groaned loudly and leaned against the counter, your hand flying to cover your face in frustration while you balanced from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache shooting up your legs.

“Are you looking for this?” a quiet and familiar voice asked.

You raised your head slowly, capturing a view of the man standing in front of you, your mug held comfortably in his hand. Exhaustion creeped through your body, leading you to bubble with irrational anger but as you prepared to berate the individual who had seized your precious mug, you took a moment to study their fingers, soon realizing they were the hands you melted over ever so often, concluding who the culprit behind the theft was.

Jin offered you a concerned glance, his profound sepia eyes blinking slowly as if expecting a response. You remained silent, losing yourself in his stare. the ache on your limbs suddenly evaporating for those short seconds, a wave of serenity settling deep inside of you. you shook your head slowly, unable to break eye contact as he made time stop around you.

All urgency to resume your pending tasks halted whilst you stood in front of him - The buzzling in the office growing quiet as your eyes slowly traced his features.

“I can wash it out if you want, I’m done anyways” Jin offered, a small smile forming on his face.

Your attention crawled to his mouth, inspecting his plump and soft lips, lips you wanted to press yours against, lips that were smeared with the cold foam of his coffee, foam you imagined on other parts of his body for you to lick.

“n-no, it's okay” this time it was you who stuttered; it was you who grew flustered.

The room fell silent as you remained stunned by his intense stare, your mind flowing with ideas that were neither appropriate nor sane. You were in deep shit, and you knew it, your heart pressed against your chest begging to jump into the hands of the man standing before you whilst your mind yelled that he was like everyone else, like every guy you had ever met. The one with the soft eyes and quick lies.

“You uh have something” you gestured to his mouth, making him aware of the leftover foam on his lips.

He lowered his head in embarrassment, his hand quickly flying to wipe away at his face. his eyes trailed away from yours, causing you to inhale sharply.

“Did I get it?” he asked, turning back to you. His cheeks still flushed with shame.

You inspected his lips once again, taking in their smoothness and soft pink color, pictured them gracing your skin softly - leaving their imprint on your skin.

“Here I’ll-” you offered, reaching forward and closing the gap between you both. you leisurely wiped away at the top of his lip with your thumb, removing all the residual foam left there. His lips were warm under your touch, your breaths growing short and unruly due to the sensation.

You could feel his stare fixed on you as you aided him, your cheeks becoming rogue at the sudden intimacy of the situation. Jin’s mouth parted as if he had wanted to say something but even if he had you doubted you would have been able to hear him over the hammering of your heart. The euphoric feeling dazed you out of all self restraint - luring you to act upon your intrusive thoughts .

you found yourself losing yourself in the sea of brown that were his eyes again, knowing you could drown and subsequently, dipped your foam covered thumb into your mouth without a second thought.

You collected the sugar that had once rested on his lips on your tongue and allowed it to rest there. A pleasure filled hum echoing from within your chest - your eyes fluttering shut at the satisfaction the fulfillment of your craving caused. You remained stuck there, your brain unable to generate anything but utter bliss. 

“hey! Is there any creamer lef…”

The voice of the intern entering the cafeteria was like cracking thunder, your body jerking as a life vest was being thrown at you, aiding you from going under. Your eyes shot open in realization, body tensing at the action you had just mindlessly committed but Jin didn’t appear to be as startled as you, his eyes firmly held on your lips. It felt like your whole body was on fire and it was only then when you noted the damp fabric of your panties pressed against your clit. 

Both you and Jin turned your heads quickly, eyes landing on the intern who stood shocked by the door, his mouth held ajar. You blinked quickly; your brain unable to register what had just taken place. it was as if everything inside you had been electrocuted and you couldn’t even find the strength to defend yourself against the silent accusation the interns eyes made.

You dreadfully took a step back from Jin, lowering your gaze once he looked back at you - you cleared your throat quickly before stumbling out of the shared space. The sound of your heels leaving echoes inside of Jin’s head.

You had deduced 2 things from that brief encounter. The first being you and Jin were beyond screwed - interns liked to talk, liked to share and gossip didn't take long to spread within the office and secondly, that being alone in a room with Jin was dangerous, far more than you had anticipated.

“Yup, it's been sent to the group chat” Daiyu nodded, pushing a spoon full of yogurt into her mouth.

You sighed, covering your face in agony.

As expected the details of your little encounter with Jin had been shared all throughout the office with the intern taking quite the creative liberty of disclosing details you were sure never happened. You groaned loudly, pushing your food away. 

“Oh god” you whispered, “we work together, you know I can lose my job right?” you stared at her, wide eyed but your friend didn’t join your panic, instead a small giggle escaped her lips and your eyebrows intertwined in confusion.

“Do you find this funny?” you yelled, throwing a balled-up napkin at her head.

“Hey! Let’s use our words” she laughed, causing you to throw your head back in defeat.

“What did you think was going to happen Y/n? Jin is a man and you are a woman - i'm surprised you haven't humped in the janitors closet yet” she mused. 

You pressed your hands against your temples, trying to stop yourself from imagining the both of you doing the mentioned act. 

“Relax, it’s not that bad” she responded, “besides their just rumors, okay?” you knew she was trying to calm you, trying to bring you back from the trepidation you had been succumbing to during the last few days but her words didn’t offer any relief, anxiety running through your entire body quickly and mercilessly.

“you know I almost believed it but then he added that Jin had his hands wrapped around your waist and I had to debunk it” Daiyu shared, swallowing the yogurt in her mouth “cause we both know that boy would simply combust if he even graced his finger tips against your skin.”

You shot bullets in her direction, how was she able to make a joke out of all of this when you were literally falling apart? your job on the line, your reputation. Everything you had worked so hard to get and maintain all down the gutter for a man and Yet, there wasn’t even a hint of regret in your thoughts, in fact the only reason why you were so stressed out in the first place was for the simple fact that you were caught,caught doing something so frivolous and yet the whole office was in an uproar about it.

If you knew you would be at the brink of getting fired over lingering stares and kinship, you would’ve at least given yourself the liberty of kissing him.

“Hey, you are in your head again” Daiyu yelled, snapping her fingers in your face. you blinked in her direction and sighed, turning away once again.

“Can this get any worse?” you complained.

“I think it just might,” Daiyu winced.

You glanced back at her and turned your head in the direction of her widened eyes. The director had stepped into the cafeteria, and he was walking straight to you. you felt your body tremble, your brain preparing for the worst. You quickly stood up, your entire nervous system beginning to shut down.

“Ms. Y/n” he greeted, you stood completely still, unable to bring any air into your lungs as your knees threatened to collapse.

“Mr. Han,” your voice trembled.

Daiyu stood up quickly, putting down her yogurt and offering your boss a 90 degree bow before standing up straight, giving you a panicked glance.

“Ms. Y/n do you have a moment? I would like to go over some things in my office” your heart dropped, your palms clammy. You soon became very aware of every vein in your body, pulsating strongly against your skin.

your throat went dry, sandpaper rubbing against the other as you tried to form a coherent response.

“I uh I – yeah”

He turned quickly without another word, his steps firm and demanding, you followed behind him like a lost puppy, glancing back at Daiyu; your eyes brimmed with tears. she attempted to give you a smile through her concerned expression but even her movements faltered when she offered you a thumbs up. You were screwed, you had gone too far in your little game and now you were facing the consequences.

The walk back to Mr. Han’s office felt eternal, passing coworkers who stared and mumbled amongst each other. You were dragging your feet at this point, your heart plummeting into despair the closer you got to his office. In retrospect you didn’t feel contrition towards the event that had taken place, one does not lament over things they enjoyed but now was not the time for you to ponder on the things you did or didn't regret.

one word from your boss and you would be sent packing with all of your hopes and dreams.

You entered his office quietly, brain swarmed with negative thoughts - predicting the words that would soon empty from his mouth.

‘YOU’RE FIRED’ 

The unspoken yet inevitable words rang inside your ears - tears swelling in your eyes out of mere anticipation. 

You let out a long breath, hoping that for a second it could appease your mind but it was no use, you were a nervous wreck and it was evident by the way your boss stared at you whilst he sat behind his desk. You decided to solve math problems in your head, a method that most times distracted you from distressing situations but as you began to find the answer to your first algebra problem you felt a presence next to you and when you glanced over, your legs buckled.

“please take a seat guys” your boss requested.

You tried to move your limbs, but your feet were stuck to the ground, eyes fixed on Jin whilst he avoided your gaze and pushed out his chair taking a seat as instructed. He didn't greet you as he tended to do nor did he give you one of his famous small introverted smiles you often looked forward to. It was as if you weren’t even there but you were and it was as if he couldn’t care less. 

Ouch…

he was tense, you could see it and It was all your fault. you were fucked, royally fucked. Your shaky hands reached for your own chair, hesitantly slipping next to him.

“I can assume you know why I’ve asked the both of you here” Mr. Han began, your stomach somersaulting painfully. You glanced over at Jin who remained silent, not a speck of anxiousness in his demeanor. Why was he so relaxed? Had he just accepted his fate? Your face contorted with conflict and then turned to face your boss, a long weighed sigh leaving your body.

“I want to apologize, I know that it wasn’t ethical and I assume full responsibility-“ you began rambling, your mouth going painfully dry. your boss stared back at you like you had 3 heads and your voice faded into thin air, further apprehension spreading inside of you.

“Y/n, I can attest you are really good at your job but why are you apologizing for the weather?” Mr. Han chuckled. you blinked slowly, unable to understand his words.

“huh?”

“look, we might be facing a storm soon and I want to send a group of you over to our headquarters in Yeosu, they will be hit the hardest and in all honesty they need all the help they can get”

Relief and embarrassment flow through you as his intentions are made clear. you let out a small nervous giggle struggling with the intrusive desire to slap yourself across the face.

“I can go on my own,” Jin interrupted, and you quickly turned to him. his face cold and expressionless, your stomach dropping once again and all those bad feelings that had previously  swallowed you, began eating at you all over again.

“I'm sure Ms. Y/n  here has a lot of work on her plate and I'm sure I can do most of the work myself.”

His words were rational, made sense even but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking this was just the aftermath of the rumors that had been spreading. You understood him, being spoken about and stared at when most times all he wanted to do was go about undetected must’ve been uncomfortable, albeit it made your insides twist.

“oh i'm sure you are more than capable but there will be a lot to cover and I just don’t think you’ll be able to manage.”

“Then give me a team, Ms. Y/n can stay here with the others - I'm sure we will need coverage here too” Jin insisted. you couldn’t bring yourself to protest. It was probably the best idea. You didn’t want any more rumors to spread about the two of you, not when it made Jin treat you like this. The game was over - no longer did you find amusement in your actions, instead you started to regret toying with him in the first place. it was immature on your part and you wanted nothing more than to apologize for your childish ways.

“I can understand your consideration of Ms. Y/n but it wasn’t a request” Mr. Han stated, causing chills to go down your spine.

“the train tickets have been purchased, you will be departing tomorrow morning” your boss concluded.

Jin stood up first, walking out of the room without another word. You followed behind quickly, your head spinning in circles as you tried catching up to him. 

“Jin” you called, but he kept his pace - not bothering to look back at you.

“Jin” you repeated, your voice much louder this time. 

His steps slowed, a sigh falling from his lips before he turned to look at you - you couldn't make out the stare he held once his eyes met with yours but it made you feel like shit. This entire ordeal was making you question the kind of person you were and for the first time since you had begun playing mind games with the man, you had realized how fucked this entire thing was. 

“How can i help you Ms. Y/n” his tone had always been reserved but this time it was different - you could feel the chill from a mile away. 

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry” you breathed. 

“Okay” he answered. 

“Okay?” you questioned, taken aback by his response. 

“Okay” Jin reaffirmed before he spun around and left you standing alone and confused in the empty hallway. 

The train ride had been 3 long painful hours and even though all your colleagues had slept peacefully, including Daiyu who snored into your ear the entire trip you hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Jin. He avoided you like the plague the entire way to Yeosu. Putting on his headphones when it was only the two of you awake, making sure he was the first to exit the train once it arrived, and when you entered the shared home you and your colleagues would be staying in for the longevity of the trip, he intentionally chose the room furthest away from yours.

You decided to just let the situation be, there wasn’t anything you could do now and besides, it didn’t appear like he even wanted an apology. Maybe, seeking him out would only make things worse.

“Have you talked to him?” Daiyu asked, setting up a small satellite on the ground to assist the tracking of the storm.

“no” you muttered, writing down notes in your notepad “and quite frankly I don’t intend to Daiyu.”

“oh come on, we will be here for 2 more days and you guys are just gonna what? Pretend the other is not there? It's making me and everyone else uncomfortable” she complained.

“And what other options do I have? I tried to apologize but he just said okay, like what even is that? okay?!” you huffed with frustration.

“he even stayed in when we said we would go out for drinks” you whisper, the topic alone distracting you from the data you were collecting. The memory caused an ache in your chest, an ache that you didn’t like. It was a faint soreness that had accompanied you many times before, during nights of heartache and rejection, so imperceptible yet debilitating.

“The kid likes you, we know he likes you, you know he likes you, and you like him” Daiyu shrugs “why are you dragging this?” her tone was annoyed but she held a smile on her face.

“it's more complicated than that and you know that” you responded, rolling your eyes.

“ugh whatever keep eye fucking him for all I care” Daiyu groaned.

“Are you all done here? I'll wait in the car” you yelled, taking quick steps away from Daiyu.

“hey! We need to make sure it's stable!” Daiyu yelled out but you ignored her, pretending to be too far to hear her curses.

As predicted the storm had arrived ferociously. Wind ripping through the city, rain pouring harshly - turning the sky opaque. Your dry and pained eyes stared at the computer screen in front of you as you wrote yet another report, racing against mother nature in an attempt to keep up with the current weather. You hadn’t slept in the last 24 hours and the toll it had left was visible. The only thing keeping you awake being the loud crackles of thunder tearing into the sky. 

You had been locked in your room all day and you had no intentions on stepping out.

The rest of the group with the exception of Jin had left to track the storm, giving you hourly updates on the current situation and the damage the storm was leaving in its path. Knowing you were alone with him in the same house left an anxious haze in your system.

You allowed your eyes to flutter shut for a few seconds, giving them some moisture but your mind wandered to another place, drifting deeper into your consciousness - within the darkness of your tightly shut eyes you envisioned Jin’s capable hands. touching, roaming, rubbing. You retracted the image of his mouth, of his tongue. Sliding, licking, pulling. And then there it was, the pooling between your thighs, the pressure under your navel.

Your eyes opened quickly as another thunder rolled through the sky, bright lights seeping through your half-opened blinds, dragging you away from your salacious contemplations.

You needed to clear your mind, to provide your brain another task to focus on before it began to rot. An impulse surged through you, your body rising from the chair it had made a home out of and stepping out into the dark house. What was the worst that could happen? For Jin to ignore you? He was already doing that anyway.

Your steps were soft as you made your way to the kitchen, a cup of chamomile tea sounding delicious at the moment, it would help you fall asleep and above all it would shake away the anxiousness that gripped you. your mouth watered with the idea. 

Aside from the small creaks the foundation of the old home made against the strong wind outside- everything else was completely silent. The gray evening sky offering the only source of light throughout the space.

You reached into the coverts and pulled out a kettle, which you filled with water and set on the stove to boil. Your eyes wandered out the window, concerned with the raging weather that apparently had no intentions on stopping. You were worried for your team, hoping they had found shelter, and you were also worried about running into Jin. all the bravery you had suddenly found in those short seconds when you first decided to leave your room quickly fading away. you blinked slowly, trying to rid yourself of the exhaustion pressing on your body.

 You made mental plans of a warm shower and then finally some rest, if the thunder allowed it.

If your Jin ridened brain would allow it.

There was another crackle in the sky and then the sliding door in the dining room opened and slammed shut, your whole nervous system jolting as a loud scream escaped your mouth. you turned your head to access the damage the wind had probably caused but your made out a figure standing by the door. A drenched, heaving figure. You blinked rapidly, ensuring it wasn’t your imagination and once your brain awakened from its internal slumber you realized that the person standing there, dripping wet from head to toe was Jin.

“Jin?” you exclaimed “are you okay?”

Your feet moved quickly towards him, mind racing with weariness at the sight of him. His presence left a puddle on the floor, his rain slicked black hair stuck to his forehead. He nodded slightly, wanting to avoid further questioning. You reached into the closet nearby and pulled out a clean towel. 

He was shivering, mouth trembling as he stood there in complete silence.

“What were you doing outside? It's dangerous out there” your voice was stern, but you weren’t trying to reprimand him. Jin was a grown man, and you were sure he was aware of the current climate.

“I had forgotten my camera” he simply explained, holding up the canon T7 camera for you to see.

“Gosh, let me help you” you sighed, taking fast steps towards him. your mind was racing with ways you could help him, concerned with his well-being however once you were closer, all those thoughts stopped – paused by the view in front of you. Jin’s black t-shirt was glued to his body, the imprint of his torso visible through the wet material. His face dripped droplets of water as he stared at you with those eyes that you habitually melted over and you weren’t sure if it was due to the rain outside, but his skin appeared to glisten, accentuating the veins that crawled down his forearms and down his hands.

This wasn’t the time to look, to peer like you often did, not a moment to tease but your eyes couldn’t help trail down to his sweats that now due to the weight of the water they had absorbed sat just below his waist, his underwear peeking above them.

You cleared your throat, attempting to remain focused whilst your hands tended to the shivering man in front of you but once the towel touched his skin, his hand came up to grip yours. You looked up at him quickly, your brows knitting with concern. His eyes pierced through you and you recalled the reason why the both of you hadn’t spoken this entire time, remembered the way he had avoided you at all costs.

“don’t do that” his tone was low, a heaviness within it that you had never heard him use before.

“do what?” yours quivered, a crack forming at the last word.

“don’t provoke me,” Jin stated.

The ache returned inside your chest, the one that you hated so much and you felt weak. Your eyes faltered, blinking away from his gaze with a heavy sigh.

“Jin, I want to apologize again, I shouldn’t have-“ you began, unable to recognize the softness in your words - a knot embedding itself in your trachea.

“What are you apologizing for?” his expression was that of confusion and you felt intimidated. The question leaves you disoriented.

“what?” you asked.

“you shouldn’t apologize if you aren’t sorry.”

“but I am” you stood on those words, truly feeling culpable of the situation you had created due to your lack of self control, due to your habit of complicating things but Jin’s words held different meaning which you had missed due to your lack of sleep,or perhaps it was because you couldn’t concentrate on anything else besides the bulge that pressed against his drenched sweats.

 Jin was teasing you.

He stepped closer, his chest now mere inches from yours. His towering build caused you to become very aware of how tall he really was, you didn’t speak another word as the room suddenly shrunk 3 sizes, your breath trapped inside of your rib cages.

“I take pride in the kind of man that I am” he muttered, leaning his face towards yours. “im respectful – a well mannered man” Jin’s eyes trailed down to your lips and he watched them intently as they parted slightly. 

“I am a civil man” he whispered, his hand rising to caress the skin of your cheek softly - erupting goosebumps everywhere inside of you. the shy and concealed man you had come to know had disappeared, leaving no traces of innocence – his stare flickering with lust. His thumb smoothed over your mouth and you could feel your heart rumble within your chest, your body trembling with each outlet of air.

“but you continue to toy with me, you appear in my dreams where I find myself doing the most indecent things to you” the confession made you lean into his touch, the realization of how good his hand felt pressed against your cheek eliminating all hesitation “it makes me question what a gracious man like me can do.”

“Jin” you trembled, body running feverishly warm as you bore into his eyes.

His hand traveled to the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with strands of your hair and he pulled, firmly but yet not hard enough to cause pain – your mouth opened as a whine traveled through your throat but before it could escape; his lips landed on yours.

 his tongue twisting away the small complaint.

It felt like a dream, like it wasn't real and for a second you wanted to pinch yourself – you wanted your alarm to go off so that you could wake up because it felt too real and dreams like these often brought you utter disappointment. Jin ran his hands against your body, his cold touch leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

You could feel your arousal dripping against your panties, the exhilaration of his mouth and hands on you leaving your mind hazed. Jin’s hand trailed under your tank top, his fingers gracing your stomach as they dragged themselves towards your breast, your small whimpers pouring into his ravenous mouth. His hand went under your bra where his fingers found your nipples, rubbing them lightly. your body leaning into his as a consequence. You both stood so close now and yet, it didn’t feel like enough.

You wanted to melt into him, wanted to feel him everywhere all at once – until you couldn't breath, until you were louder than the storm outside.

Small moans left your lips, urging him to lose all control and you could tell he was reaching his breaking point when his hips jerked forward, his erection pressing against your thigh. You leaned away from his lips, eyes meeting at the sudden action. You tugged at his drenched t-shirt and he allowed you to remove it, lifting his arms up in the air. Your eyes trailed his skin as you exposed it, inch by inch.

He was gorgeous, not a trace of imperfections on his soft pale skin – his shoulders were so broad and you pictured your legs stretched over them, giving him full access to the part that pulsed sorely in-between your thighs.

His hand reached for your hair once again, pulling your head back - his tongue traveling up the valley of your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, mouth releasing short sighs as he bit and nibbled on the tender skin. You felt like your skin was on fire, cheeks burning due to the lack of oxygen his mouth was causing. It was a  high you wanted to be in at all times.

 you had misread Jin entirely. This man was capable of destroying you, the evidence in the way your body trembled under his attention.

His hand slipped from under your shirt, finding the hem of your pajama pants and guiding his hand inside. Your mouth falling completely open once his slender fingers reach your clit, quivering in anticipation. He palmed you through your panties slowly, allowing your wetness to spread across the crutch of your panties.

“mhmm so warm” Jin groaned almost painfully.

He licked his lips as he stared into your eyes, darkness enveloping them the longer his hand remained inside of your pants, you knew you were completely fucked, he had you right where he wanted you.

 a thought arises from within the deepest part of your mind that perhaps, he was the one toying with you all this time. testing how far you would go to bring him to this point.

“Jin” you moaned “I want to uh.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked, arching his brow at your broken request.

You couldn’t concentrate but you were sure of what you wanted, of what you wanted to do to him. you reached forward, your hand finding his rock hard dick - giving it a slow pump. It quivered under your touch, urging you for more. Small groans fell out Jin’s mouth, the hand intertwined with your hair pulling back a bit harder.

Your eyes pleaded out to him -  slowly sinking on your knees. your stare never breaks with Jin. You wanted to look at him while you snatched his soul away, you had imagined this moment so many times and now that it was finally here, presented to you in a silver platter your mouth salivated. You slowly pushed down his sweats and then his boxers, his erection springing out, standing tall in front of you.

Your willing tongue unraveled from your mouth, holding his delicate length in your hand as you slid your tongue up his shaft, spreading your saliva against the pulsing vein there. Your deep breaths cascades over his tip, his cock twitching against your tongue in anticipation. Jin watched  through hooded eyes, unable to blink away from your position under him.

“Ah fuck” he groaned. 

You looked so pretty, so dirty – he could cum from the sight alone.

Your tongue glided towards his tip, your damp muscle collecting all the pre-cum that sat on his slit, the salty taste making your clit pulsate. Your tongue slipped back and forth and then you felt it, his whole body trembling at the pleasure you were drawing out with just your mouth and you let out a moan, one that you couldn’t withhold because god did he look ethereal from this angle.

You eased his head into your mouth, eyes wide open looking up at him – your cheeks hollowing as you began to slowly bob your head, allowing him to catch his breath whilst your tongue glided around his thickness. Hisses streamed out of him, the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him leading him to throw his head back in pleasure.

Your saliva allowed you to take in more of him – feeling his cock reach the back of your throat, tickling your tonsils. you began moving your head faster, your hand reaching to pump the length that your mouth couldn’t take, the other slipping inside of your pajamas, your fingers rubbing against your folds and dipping inside of your warm walls.

His hand reached down, gripping your hair again and you noticed it was something he liked to do but you didn’t mind – the small pang of discomfort causing moans to vibrate against his dick. Jin’s hips started to move into your willing mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you continued your quick tempo – the sound of his drenched cock dipping in and out of your mouth echoing inside of the dining area along with the sound of your gagging. 

Your eyes burned, tears brimming at the corners but you didn’t dare to look away as he looked down at you, he appeared so sexy whilst in heat, the thought that it was you doing this to him causing your fingers to move quicker inside of you, your arousal gliding down your hands. 

“Y/n” Jin moaned.

You removed your hand from his shaft and took in the rest of him, you could feel your throat begin to burn but you didn’t care – your need to have his entire length in your mouth overpowering even your need for air. Your head bobbed up and down, waiting for him to come undone in your mouth but his hand pulled back on your head, causing his cock to slide out of your mouth with a loud pop.

“That's not where I want to come,” he groaned, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath he took. 

He glided his thumb against your pulsing red lips, collecting the drool that remained on your chin. You whimpered, your own thumb pressing against your clit - fucking yourself to the sight of him. He carried a dark ardor, a look in his eyes that you had never witnessed before or perhaps never noticed. 

In one swift movement you were off the floor, Jin placed you on the kitchen counter - his tongue once again sliding down the nape of your neck dragging out small moans from your mouth. He was experienced, his mouth and hands knowing where to touch and tug as if he had studied your entire anatomy and you let him, falling into the bliss of all your lust filled dreams. 

His mouth found yours, his lips blending against your own with rapid appetite. His hands traveled to your waist, moving his fingers in between the skin and the hem of your pants and with one pull - he brought down your pajamas and dampened panties. You yelped as the cold air hit your hot clit - begging for his touch. He pulled away from your kiss - bringing his pointer and index finger into his mouth and coating the digits with his saliva - his eyes fixed on yours. 

Your body shivered, as you watched him preparing himself to completely wreck you and not a word of objection leaves your mouth, entranced with how sexy he makes it all look. He’s a professional and you had been too cocky to ever realize that. He pressed his fingers against your throbbing pussy, your hips jerking forward at the sensation. His fingers are long and warm against your cunt and you want nothing more than to have them inside of you. 

“Shhh relax” Jin hummed, rubbing your clit in small slow circles. 

Your breath trembled, mouth falling open as he teased your needy cunt - a smirk forming on his lips. Your touch deprivation didn't go unnoticed to the man standing in front of you. Your back arching into his teasing contact. He leaned forward and left wet kisses on your chest, trails of love bites and saliva as  he reached your breast and then his fingers began to move faster - his mouth taking one of your nipples into his mouth with ease. 

“Jin” you whimpered. He was everywhere all at once and your body shook, he was too much and yet you were capable of taking it all. 

His tongue went flat against your hardened nub, gliding it up and down and then sucking on the nipple softly, your hands tangled themselves in his hair, your legs shaking as he slid one finger into your welcoming cunt and then another, and then another and soon he began pumping them quickly, holding no mercy. 

Your hips matched his tempo and your breast begin to bounce as fucked yourself into his hand. Jin pulled away from your breast - not wanting to miss how much of a slut you had become for him. Your eyes were completely shut - allowing the feeling to take over you completely and you were a wreck but you couldn’t control your hips as they rolled against his appendages. Jin groaned at the sight of you, of your Pretty cunt taking all 3 of his fingers. 

“Look at you, you love this don’t you” he muttered into your ears, his forehead pressed into your cheek as he looked down at his fingers disappearing into your cunt, glistening with your juices - leaving a small puddle on the counter. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked but you remained silent, whimpers replacing the answer you wanted to give. 

“Mhm?” Jin urged you, wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Y-yes” you stuttered. 

“Look who's stuttering now” he mocked and your eyes open, gleaming with lust. 

Jin slowly retracted his fingers from where they had remained, embedded inside of you, the action making you whine in desperation which made Jin smile in response - you were needy, no longer in control and Jin felt his dick quiver at the realization. He looked deep into eyes as he stood in front of you. he raised his hand and spit into his palm proceeding to lather up your already dripping cunt. You could feel his saliva coat your clit, the feeling causing your whole body to tremble. 

He leaned back in for a kiss, slowly pressing you back into the counter until you could only see the ceiling above you. His hands slid up your thighs and with one swift movement he brought your ass to the end of the counter, your legs now placed exactly where you had wanted them to be for so long, where you thought they would look their best, thrown over his shoulders. 

“You look so good like this” he groaned, his eyes scanning your half naked body. 

You could hear the loud whistling of the tea kettle on the stove consume the entire room, creating a symphony with the moans that rattled from your lungs and then Jin sank into you, with so much ease, so smoothly that for the next few seconds you couldn't breath. 

Jin’s hands rubbed along your legs, his hips starting to roll into you with swift and disposed movements. You could feel all of him, the pulsations of his cock as he slowly retracted and then easily slipped back inside. The way the tip of his cock reached your ovaries, your legs quivering out of reflex. 

“Jin” you cried out and you lost it, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he snapped his waist, pounding into you with so much speed that the counter underneath you began to shake, Jin’s hand flied to your tank top, gripping it in his hand -  pulling at the fabric with each thrust that he gave you. 

“Is this what you wanted me to do all this time?” he questioned, bringing his thumb against your clit. 

“Y-yes” you yelped. 

“Fuck Y/n” he moaned breathlessly and the thunder outside was no match for the sound of your greedy wet cunt taking his entire length, your loud yelps and moans masking the natural disaster taking place. 

Your ass bounced against his thighs each time he slammed into you and he was frantic, your warm walls smothering his aching cock as he plunged into you with so much need and desire you could feel your clit swell around him. As you peered down at him there wasn’t a trace left of the shy boy you once knew. His eyes darkened, glazed over as he stared at his dick stretching out your walls. His teeth biting down onto his lip harshly in a foolish attempt to refrain from the grunts that vibrated from his chest. 

His fingers rubbed quickly over your flustered clit, it was as if he already knew what you needed before you said it, he had you down to a science and you couldn’t stop your body from convulsing, your cunt squeezing around him as a signal of your incoming orgasm. 

“Jin i’m gonna-” you yelp out, this orgasm was different from the ones you would give yourself to the thought of him, pressure beginning to form dangerously in your core. 

“Shhhh i know princess relax” he hummed like an expert only would. 

Your legs fell from his shoulders and his hands received them quickly, holding them wide open. The view of your pussy taking him to the hilt  urging him to flutter in pleasure but he didn’t want to look away - he didn’t want to miss a beat, not when it had been everything he’s dreamed of and more. 

You looked so perfect, felt so perfect and whilst he fought the utter pleasure surging through him, that left him completely spent he could feel your cunt constricting around his cock, his hips faltering at the sudden tightness that enveloped him. 

“Ahh ahh” Jin yelped. 

 With loud moans you came undone, your body tensing and muscle restricting - eyes brimming with tears and just as fast, you felt every cell inside of you ease, like a shot of anesthesia, body and mind going completely blank. Moments later Jin shoots streams of his warm nectar into your walls, filling up every ridge, his milk oozing out as he retracts his hips slowly, careful as to not disturb your high. 

By the time the morning crept into the city of Yeosu, the storm had subsided - superseded by the bright sun that now shined directly in your face. You concluded that the sky had made it its goal to not allow you peaceful slumber these past few days. Denying you the pleasures of rest. You had been awake for a few minutes now but you had been reluctant to open your eyes, focusing on the feeling of the soft comforter wrapped around your nude body. 

Perhaps you were just really tired but the truth was that you just didn’t want to recognize the body that laid next to you, soft snores flowing past their lips, their face nestled into the crook of your neck. 

If you opened your eyes then it would all come to an end, the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the feeling of his weight besides you. Yet, you knew it couldn't last forever and although neither of you had shared any words regarding the events that took place last evening, or the other things that happened after that, you concluded it would all end the same way it usually did. 

You weren’t unfamiliar to awkward goodbyes when the sexual tension dissipated and though inside you wanted to hold onto the hope that maybe this time it would be different, that Jin wasn't like that - you were aware of the inevitable. 

Your eyes blinked open with a soft hiss and for a moment you were blinded by a ray of sunshine gleaming on your face - you raised one of your arms, blocking away the light and carefully turned to glance over at the sleeping man beside you. Jin was sound asleep and you could tell how completely at ease he was in contrast to your nerves that rattled you out of your very needed and desired slumber. 

You didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to wake up to an empty bed but you knew it would only be harder if you were to leave whilst he was awake, you knew he would attempt to sooth the rejection that was approaching. 

You carefully lifted his arm from around your waist, sliding inch by inch out of the comforter you both shared. Your eyes remained on his resting form, his lips slightly parted and his disheveled silky black locks sprawled on the pillow underneath his head - he looked angelic and your heart lurched at the sight. 

You contemplated if you should’ve stayed, if you could allow yourself a bit of cruelty in exchange for comfort but you had been down that road many times before and at last you made up your mind. Your eyes moved to scan the floor, trying to find the article of clothing you wore the day before but they are nowhere to be found. 

“Shit” you whispered. 

Scenes of the previous day flashed through your mind like a silent film, replaying the lust filled moments you both shared - your bodies intertwining in nearly every room of the vacant home until you found shelter under his bed sheets. His moans and whimpers forever embedded into your memory causing your legs to quiver as you stood disoriented in his room. 

You had left your clothing sprawled in different corners of the house - evidence left for your colleagues to find upon their arrival. 

Jin’s body twists and turns and grumbles fall from his lips, shifting you into overdrive. your hands quickly picked up one of his t-shirts that had been thrown across the floor. You slipped the fabric over your head - being suddenly hit with his scent, guilty adrenaline soaring through you. 

You slowly moved towards the door, your steps careful and calculated as you attempted to escape the room like a foolish thief. Your hands reached for the doorknob, wincing as the door creaked under your touch, cursing at the old house for exposing you in such a dire situation. 

“I thought i had at least 5 more minutes” Jin’s raspy voice echoed inside of the silence you so badly tried to keep. 

Your body froze - heart thumping inside of your chest at a faster rate than before. You shut your eyes as a grimace took over your expression - you had been caught, red handed. You tried to come up with an excuse, in order to lessen the blow but nothing came to mind and as you turned you gave him the words you had heard oh so many times before. 

“Sorry, i didn't want to wake you” the words left a pungent aftertaste in your mouth as you spoke them. 

Jin was sitting amongst the mess of comforter and sheets you both had made, his bare chest gleaming with the light that ripped through the windows - his hand reaching to rub his puffy eyes, a long exhausted sigh leaving his lips. 

“It's too early for you to lie and honestly, I'm too tired to believe it.”

You blinked quickly, his statement throwing you off balance. His tone did not hold any anger or frustration - he sounded disappointed. He was a reflection of you this time and now you were the one having to seek for poor excuses regarding your sudden departure. 

“Jin I-” you tried to speak but your words were cut off by silence, a boulder sitting comfortably against your throat. 

Jin shifted from his sitting position - his eyes focused on your messy hair and on his favorite t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame. 

“You are always close but yet, so out of reach Y/n” Jin states “as open as you appear to be you hold your doors so tightly that your hands grow blisters.” he didn’t intend to be harsh - in fact his words are only a demonstration of how deeply he had come to know you but you couldn’t control the bitter sensation they left inside of you. 

“I didn't mean to- '' you began but couldn’t finish, swallowing down your justifications. 

“I can predict the weather for the next 2 weeks but not what you will do next” he chuckled and your lips quivered at the reality of what he was saying, of the truths that he knew and threw at you without hesitation. 

“I just don't want to mess things up - not this time around Jin, not with you” your mouth grew dry, your eyes glistening with tears that you didn’t want to let out. 

“That’s not a decision you can make on your own,” Jin retorted. 

“Jin, i've been here before so many times - i don't want it to be you running out of my life this time, the thought alone is unbearable and i know we don't know each other like that but i don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, you are a really nice guy” you don’t breath between your words, your lungs constricting as you give him your reasons in fear that he won't understand. 

“Well I'm not the one sneaking out of the room, am i?” 

Jin’s stare was sharp and you fidgeted under it - your mind attempting to find other logical reasons why whatever it is you both shared ultimately would come crashing down in the most vile kind of way. 

“What if you grow tired of me?” you whispered, eyes looking away from his. 

“I like coffee” he jokes and this time you smile. 

“I'm being serious!” you whine, your brows knitting with the conflicting debate that expands in your head. 

“Y/n, i am a grown man” Jin smirks “and not the kind that plays silly little games.”

Your eyes snap in his direction - a pang of guilt shooting through you. 

“Yeah i’m sorry about that too” you mutter, your cheeks growing flushed in embarrassment. 

“Are you?” Jin raises his eyebrow, a small smile appearing on his cheeks.

“Stop apologizing and come here.”

It doesn't take a second longer before you swiftly remove his t-shirt from your body - making a mental note to remind him that it belongs to you now. the insignificant object becoming one of the first things he will let you keep without hesitation because this man, the one who you decorate with kisses - the one that has entered your atmosphere at high speeds and at an unknown trajectory will never be like the others.

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #seokjin bts #bts smut #bts x you #bts au fic #seokjin fluff #jin x reader #jin smut #jin imagine #jin angst #seokjin x oc #seokjin x y/n #jin x oc #jin x y/n #kpop smut #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin fanfic #jin fluff

[demonshauntingthedoves]

Chapter 2

Perfedious : A disloyal and faithless person.

Pairing : Yandere!Seokjin x female reader (Mirae)

Summary : You had dreamt of a beautiful man who held a diamond ring in his hand for you and the dream had come true when you saw Seokjin holding the same diamond ring and he slipped it on - your sister's finger - not yours. Sometimes what you want happens in the worst way possible.

Warnings : Heavy Angst, Family Problems, Age gap, Dilf, Dub-Con, Infidelity, Affair, Toxic Behaviour, Eventual Yandere, Eventual Smut, Just wait for Seokjin's dark Pov [hehehe].

Word Count : 3865+

You woke up feeling groggy and lazy after a lethargic noon nap.

Minsu and Seokjin had flown to Paris for their so-called honeymoon.

You had to hide your irritation when she had excitedly waved the package tickets on your face. She was beyond ecstatic.

You had slumped and shrinked in your room after they left. Your house filled with silence and gloom.

You missed her already. You missed both of them.

The trail of your hopeless thoughts was cut off when you heard something drop on the floor downstairs. It would be your mother. She purposely clank the cutlery to make noises, to annoy you, a telltale sound when she wanted you down.

Reluctantly, you jumped out of bed and trudged down the stairs to the kitchen.

And there she was throwing away all the ramen packets you had bought to satiate your hunger pangs.

You were livid, the ramen was one of your favourite quick meals, something you relied on when you were too lazy to cook. And not like your mother fed you well when Minsu was away.

"What are you doing?" You shreeched in anger.

She turned to look at you with a blank and unbothered face as if she wasn't throwing your food.

"I don't want this trash in my house."

She said, as she moved to throw another packet in the bin. She didn't make any dinner last night, the poor noodles came handy, and now she had the audacity to throw them.

You ran to her with heavy stamps and tried to snatch the pack which led to a bit of scuffle.

"What is your problem?" You shouted in pure frustration.

"My problem is that I don't want this trash in my kitchen.You need to eat healthy and not this junk." She shouted suddenly, making you flinch.

You backed away and chuckled in mirth and disbelief.

"Like you ever worried about my health. You starved me yesterday and now you care!!!"

" You should know how to feed yourself. You're not a toddler to be pampered. You can't rely on me or Minsu all the time! " Her heated words did little to cool your boiling rage.

" I did. I did cook the ramen and fed myself." You said through gritted teeth, so tempted to spew out curses.

You were so furious, towards yourself. You had promised yourself that you would control and not be a part of this pointless wordmatch. But here you were.

"I said healthy food!" She clarified. Looking at you as if you were a dumb cow.

You gulped all the molten rage you wanted to fire at her. You're learning to cook healthy. You know how to. It's just once or a few times that you eat packaged food.

You sighed. If you continue, you'd never hear the end of it.

" So you care about me? " You changed the subject but didn't back down before hitting a nerve. You already knew the answer. You directed the fragile question in a mocking way.

One thing you were thankful for was that your mother never put her hands on you. Even though she seemed like she could beat you nuts, she didn't. She didn't cross that line.

But her sharp tongue would always do all the job her hands couldn't.

" If I didn't care about you, you'd be on the road today, thrown like this trash."

You just stared at her with an incredulous face. Wondering how she always managed to prick a needle in your heart.

She threw the ramen in the dustbin with a loud thud and purposely slided the spoon holder off the counter, all the spoon clattering on the floor with a disturbing sound. She walked past you muttering bitter,

"Useless trash…."

--------------

You thought you could deal with it.

A stomach ache. It lasted for three days including today, only change being your periods joining the pain party.

You could take care of it, deal with these unwanted cramps. Spurs of pain shooting in your lower tummy. But you weren't able to focus much in the lectures.

During break, you drank water and began to eat lunch, thinking you'd feel better. But it got worse when your head started to spiral, heart palpilated and vision distorted.

You were about to faint.

Ari rushed you to the infirmary, supporting your hobbling body.

Tears clung to your lashes, as you limplessly fell on the ward bed. Ari remained beside you with concerned eyes. Cheeks flushed with sweat and embarrassment, you answered the nurse. The woman put you on saline, asking you to rest. Ari rung Minsu, quickly informing of your condition. She disappeared to bring your backpack.

The white walls of the infirmary screamed "You are weak!" in a hundred ways. You were beyond disappointment. You were going to be eighteen soon. Step into adulthood. Like this, like a weakling. Miserable. Good for nothing. Trash. Your mother was right.

Amidst the blaming noises, you heard Seokjin's voice, your heart plummeting with cold terror.

No. No. No.

You didn't want him to witness you like this- in a sorry state.

You clutch your eyes shut in humiliation, turning your head to the wall on the other end.You wanted to disappear, wanted to sink into the ground.

You felt his presence, rosewood scent diffusion in the antiseptic room. He squeezed your hand, his warm fingers touching your sweaty forehead and neck to check the temperature.

"Rae…?"

You couldn't escape this. You hesitantly faced him with droopy eyes- casted down to his hand which caressed yours. You couldn't look in his eyes- definitely full of pity. He'd think how pathetic and vulnerable you were. Couldn't handle a stomach ache.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asked softly.

Not at all. Why did he come instead of Minsu? You didn't want him here. Didn't want him to see your sickened swollen face.

You nodded. Gazing at his Rolex. You were bothered by a very different reason to care about your stomach anymore.

"Her BP is very low. It can happen due to blood loss during menstruation. The dose will work for now but she needs to stay more hydrated and eat well."

The nurse checked on you again. Passing a sympathetic smile which did little to ease your mortification. Your eyes shifted to Seokjin's. Sweetly staring soft appeals.

He had rushed all the way here. Decided to invest his precious time for your silly inconvenience. You instantly felt guilty for wasting his time.

"I'm sorry." You apologised, tears welling up. You didn't want to cry but you couldn't help it. " I know I wasted your time with all this."

"No, Rae. You didn't disrupt any of my time.It's fine. Minsu had an urgent meeting, so she couldn't come."

"I'm just s-sorry!" You sobbed, covering your mouth. You felt horrible.

"Rae, I know how you feel."

You looked at him. His honey molten eyes softened with genuine worry and empathy.

"It's alright.You're alright. Illness just comes and goes." He understood your plight.

" You don't need to blame yourself for it. It's alright to feel weak in such moments, you're only human. Sweet little human at that."

He booped your red nose and wiped your tears, offering you his angelic smile.

" But from now on, you need to take more care of yourself. Got it? "

You nodded again, no more self conscious, too consumed by his aisling presence.

Seokjin took you home. You glared at all the girls who ogled at him while walking out of school.

Once home, your drained self refused to eat anything but Seokjin stubbornly spoon fed you before taking medicine. It all felt so casual, too natural. As if you had known each other for a long time. And not just two months.

" Always remember that we are there for you, Rae. It's not wrong to need someone, to seek help. You shouldn't think that you're a burden or bother to us or anyone. You're not. Okay? " He said whilst handing you the prescribed pills.

"And you can always count on me. I'll be there for you." His voice, like a gentle candace, assured you. He was so considerate.

You smiled gratefully.You just wanted to hug him and you did. Awkwardly so.The moment your body brushed his, the tender symphonies played in your heart yet again. They grew louder every time you were close to him.

"Thankyou." you murmured against his chest.

His warm body felt millennial times better than the cold pillow you snuggled in at night. He felt like home. Warm and cosy. You clung to him like a homesick fool.

Reluctantly, you retracted your arms from his back, looking up at him. You'd love to be a stargazer and peer into Seokjin's eyes. For all the twinkles hid in there.

This wasn't the first time you were close to him. The first time was when you had bumped into him and fell down. He had offered you his hand and tugged you up, but you had again clumsily stumbled over him.Your noses brushed. Breaths fluttered. Eyes locked. You had never been that close to a man before. The lub dubs of your heart had quickened.

And you knew. From then on, every vault and crevice of your mind would be filled with his and his thoughts only.

------------------

She was smiling.

Your mother was smiling. Not the one she feigned and faked outdoors to show her charms and courtesy. This was a genuine one. It reached her eyes.

Even the walls of your cramped house would be flabbergasted to hear her laughs. And so were you and Minsu. Your mother seemed too happy. Her face beamed as she spoke to Seokjin.

She had invited them for dinner.

You had seen the shift in her. She was so engrossed in cooking, humming and smiling dreamily. It was uncanny.

You'd never seen her being so affectionate, never thought she ever could be. All directed towards Seokjin, the man in the spotlight. You were confused at first but then it became clear.

She saw in Seokjin the son she never had.

It had stung, this was the part you always longed for, her affection and attention. Minsu was happy with this little change.

Even after finishing his, Seokjin wanted another piece of cake and to his surprise, he received three. Mother's, Minsu's and Yours too. Ending up eating the whole cake.

Ofcourse, God had favourites. So did your mother.

She was always soft spoken to him. Brought him a specially woven traditional coat. Prepared his favourite dishes and sent them to his office.

But she had wicked favours too.

She'd complain how the furniture was broken and coax him to buy new ones. Months later, your house looked like a complete renovation. All thanks to Seokjin's wallet.

Seokjin was too nice for his own good.

----------------

You watched the delicate butterflies dance on flower petals, heart fluttering in synchrony.

It was your birthday.

Like every night, you were busy indulging in your fruitless thoughts. Fantasising about certain someone .

Only to see him in your room. You yelped in utter horror. His smiley face appeared out of nowhere, glowing in the candle light.

"Ta-da!"

Minsu switched on the lights, running to hug you with a wide smile.

"Happy Birthday Rae!"

You cut the cake. Wishing for the wellbeing of the two favourite people in your life.

You fed the cake to Minsu. You were so grateful to have her. You both had bonded strongly, sharing mutual hatred towards your mother. Offered each other a shoulder to lean on.

Unexpectedly, Seokjin smeared the icing, staining yours and Minsu's cheeks each.

You were going to pounce on him. But Minsu beat you to it, running to him like a wildcat. Their infectious laughter slowly seeped into every corner of the room, making it lively and joyous.

Your heart sank when you saw them kiss, cake forgotten, bitter taste on your sweet tongue, eyes on Seokjin's hand wrapped around Minsu's waist.

You shouldn't feel this way.

You couldn't let this crush get to your head.

He was your sister's husband.

You needed to stay away from him.

Your special morning started with a visit to the butterfly sanctuary. A colourful start. You were amazed to see the tiny butterflies, erratically fluttering here and there. Golden monarchs flaunting. Gracefully kissing sweet scenting flowers they pass by.

You walked in wonder. Eyes darted away from the couple beside you. Clicking pictures of butterflies. Most of them flying freely in the garden but some were kept in glass boxes. The rare ones. You gazed at the poised pink butterfly. So big and beautiful. You smiled at it.

Your lashes fluttered up at the man on the other side of the box, eyes fixated on the same butterfly. Through the glass, his eyes met yours, the moment suspended, they flashed with something for a fleeting second. But they turned into slits.soon after, as he passed you a smile.

The symphonies started to blare in your heart. Louder. Butterflies erupting in your stomach.

No. You had told yourself that you would avoid Seokjin at all cost. You forced a smile and walked away.

Despite him arranging everything for your birthday, you ignored him all the time, it made your insides twinge with a little guilt.

But you could'nt deny that this was your bestest birthday.

----------------

"You should write a song." Ari babbled our of no where. You pinched your brows, a questioning look on your face. " On hopeless romance." She joked, busy swiping your birthday pictures.

You rolled your eyes, knowing she is spewing nonsense, going back to playing your guitar.

Seokjin gifted it. You wanted to jump on him and hug him tightly but you knew better. You loved music and always wanted a guitar of your own. You were so happy.

" A butterfly sanctuary, then the folk music museum, then the aquarium and then the lavish restaurant with jazz music. Fuck! Didn't he tick off all the places you wanted to visit just in a single day! " Ari spoke with widened eyes, amused.

"So what? I didn't even look at him the whole time." You said with furrowed brows. Plucking the strings, checking the tune.

Ari smirked, zooming in a picture where you and Seokjin were closest. Seokjin was looking at you, as you smile at the camera. " I can see that. But really you just fussed all day for no reason then!"

"He kissed her. Right in front of me. That too on my birthday night!" You let out, anger veiling your sadness.

" But he did all this. Took a leave, spend a whole fucking day off for you. Maybe he wanted to make it up to you." Why was she defending him? And why she being so delusional?

" He just did it all for Minsu. Because she'll be happy if I'm happy." You said, fingers stroking the strings aimlessly.

"You're being illogical. I have a brother in law too but he never did all this things for me."

" He treats me like a child. That day they both were pamparing me like I'm their daughter. And I absolutely hated it."

" Look you should see it in this way, if they see you like their child, they won't think of having one."

" Shut up!!" You face twisted in a weird expression. Mouth twitching into disgust. You detested the thought. "You are talking absolute nonsense! " She was being ridiculous.

Ari sat up nicely, hearing the door creak open, Minsu walked in.

"Hello girlies!" She greeted you both, placing her purse on the bed. She directly came here from work, looking at her working attire.

"Glued to the guitar already. I knew you would love this gift." She settled on the bed, scrambling through her bag. "Talking about gift, mine was pending. Here it is."

You opened the envelope, staring at the document. It was something related to ownership of a house.

"You bou…." She cut you off "Yes, we bought a house. We're moving to the house next door. Right beside yours." The moment her words reached you, your lips stretched into the widest smile. You were beyond elated. All the previous thoughts thrown out the window.

You snuggled in her neck, hugging her tightly. "I'm so happy" You looked at Ari across Minsu's neck. Her smiled mirrored yours, witnessing the soft moment of both sisters. " Thankyou so much. This is the best gift ever. We'll be close now." You hated to live alone, with your mom at that.

"I have another news, Rae." You nodded on her shoulder, asking her to continue, still not ready to detach.

" I think I'm pregnant."

And just like that your blissful smile dimed.

------------

(Present)

"When are you coming back?" He asked. You chewed the inside of your cheek, clutching the phone to your ear with quivering fingers.

" I-I'm not sure, Jin. The therapy will take more time." You sighed. "When I start to think it's getting better, the ache returns and it only gets worse." You explained to him.

You're not sure, not specific enough about which ache were you talking about. The ache in your stomach which had been tormenting you for months now. Or the ache in your…Nevermind.

"I hope the therapy works. I've been loaded with this project right now or I would have come to see you myself." He grumbled in slight frustration.

You shook your head vigorously and tried to silence your rushing breath.

"No- no Jin, don't worry about me. I'm better than before and Grandma is taking good care of me." That was the last thing you wanted. Him visiting here.

" Fine. But you know Minsu is worried sick and so am I. Good that she told me how you were doing when you weren't picking up my calls but hers." He said calmly letting you know that he obviously knew- you were avoiding him.

You stayed mute raking your mind for some excuse but he continued.

"Soojin had her recitation but no one was there to prepare her so she didn't go. Since then, she has been upset with us and more upset with you-that her aunt wasn't there."

"I know." You said sadly. Her pouting face flashed in your mind.

" And work is waiting, it's been two months now. I've managed till now but I cannot always cover up." He tried to control his tone.

"I know." You furrowed your brows and said in an inaudible voice.

He could. He could always cover up for you. But he was casting reasons to get you back home. To him.

" You don't. You don't know, Rae. Everyone misses you here." He sighed, digging yet another soft spot.

" I miss you all too, Jin. You need to un-" You voice cracked, feeling guilty and weak.

" No, you don't!" He sternly claimed." You didn't even tell me when you left. Am I that insignificant to you?" Your eyes welled up.

"No-" He cut you off yet again.

" Am I forcing you to talk to me? Tell me? I'll not call you from now on if you don't want me to." His words were snappy, tone upset.

A long pause dragged, he, waiting for your answer.

Your throat constricted. You couldn't speak a single word.

You didn't like how he spoke. He never used such a harsh tone with you. You were one minute away from breaking down.

You withdrew your phone and cut the call. You couldn't exchange any more words with him without crying your eyes out. And that's the last thing you wanted to do.

You thought that if you distanced yourself from him, he would just let go, forget about you and focus on his family. But that wasn't the case.

He was there, waiting for you.

To come back to him.

---------------

You clutched your head with both hands, feeling your head spiral again.Your body felt fatigued after throwing up so much.

This unusual dizziness had clung to you for so long.You assumed it was a passing illness due to emotional stress but it remained for several days. Months now.

When it didn't get better from local clinic medicines, you decided to visit your Grandma and take her treatment instead of the city hospital.

You grandma patted your hair as you plopped on the dining chair lethargically. You quickly gulped the bitter liquid she gave you for your upset stomach. You rested your elbows on the table and covered your teary eyes.

"It will get better Rae. Have faith."

"It's been months now, grams." You sobbed.

"Do you want to visit the hospital?"

You shook your head,

"No, I'll get better with your treatment." You rubbed your red eyes and nose before putting on a smile to convince her.

Three months had gone in thin air.

You looked in the mirror, your body had fattened. You lightly slapped the plush of your cheeks and turned to find the outline of your breast and butt look more rounder.

Despite you throwing up all the food, you managed to gain weight. How was that even possible?

You removed your top to put on something lighter, but as you glanced in the mirror again, your eyes fell on it.

And you ignored it. Stubbornly ignored it.

You knew exactly what was happening to your body. You had lied to your Grandma that you were on birth control. You had also lied that you were getting your periods.

You were already on edge. There was so much going on in your mind, that you didn't allow much space for this thought. You had brushed it off in denial. Ignored it. Knowing well, that if you let this situation get to your head, you were finally going to lose it.

Third month, you came to accept it. You were horrified when you realised it.It couldn't be more obvious. All the signs were so clear. You wondered why hadn't your Grandma kicked you out already.

Your heart was filled with absolute dread and wonder at the same time.

There was a life growing inside you.

And you couldn't keep it.

You had scurried to the small pharmacy in the further corner of the town. Asked for abortion pills. You took it at night, lights switched off, in darkness, too afraid, too unwilling to witness another of your sins. Killing a life.

You had been taking the pills for a few days. You needed to get rid of it.

Maybe you had sensed it from the start. Your intuitions gnawing. Like the silence before a storm. A disaster. Your body had hinted. That's why you had run away from home and hidden. But what you didn't know was that the cause of the disaster was within you. Growing inside you.

" Please don't tell mom. Not now. Please!" You begged your Grandma, hysterically crying. She got to know. Your bump had grown. The pills didn't work. You had chugged the whole bottle in your mouth.

If your mother got to know, she'd kill you. You cannot imagine the mortification you'll be in when you face Minsu. What will you tell her? What will you tell Jin?

A new splash of cold terror poured on you.

What will you tell him?

Previous I Main Masterlist

A/N - Finally done! I've kinda dragged this chapter a bit. Wanted to show the (very slow) dynamic between Jin and Rae. The last scene is my favourite. I wrote this whole thingy just to get to that one part. Also, I personally love Ari more than all the Mcs in this. Lol.

Let me know which part you liked.

Please vote and reblog. Let me know if you want to join the taglist.

@themochiverse @ephemeralliving

#btsyandere #yandere bts #yandere kimseokjin #yandere seokjin #bts jin #darkfiction #bts fanfiction #dark bts #angst bts #bts jin x reader #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #seokjin x you #seokjin x oc #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fic

[bts-0t-7]

BTS | KSJ | FIC RECS

The Collection of Seokjinnie. Hehe... I hope you guys enjoy the fics as much as I did. Don't forget to tell the authors your appreciation too - whether is it a like, a comment, or a follow - they'll be glad to hear from you 😊

Tonight, @liveyun (fluff , students au , romance)

Take you down, @lookingforluna (smut, fluff, romance, idol!au, established relationship!)

To kill a king, @foxymoxynoona (Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance)

Sit. Stay, @daechwitatamic (fluff, s2l, neighbors!au, baby angst for a quick minute?, smut)

Apples in February, @kth1 (Fluff, Smut, Angst, 21+, Werewolf!AU, One Shot)

Winter Whiskey, @kth1 (Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, 18+)

Last November, @kithtaehyung (angst, smut, exes to lovers au)

The Obsidian Pearl, @angelicyoongie (yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence)

Internal Conflicts, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, step brother (not related, not raised together, not weird))

Paths Crossed, @borathae (Fantasy, s2l!AU, Romance, Smut)

#kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x oc #kim seokjin x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x you #kim seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #seokjin angst

[magicshopaholic]

A Lack of Colour

Summary: Seokjin realises he needs to have a talk with his girlfriend. Yoongi makes a promise. "i should have given you a reason to stay" - death cab for cutie, a lack of color

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Angst, sort of

Word count: 9K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: Please don’t hate me. Takes place a week after Helping Hands. If you want to yell at me with other readers after you're done , you can do so on the Discord channel.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "a lack of color“ by death cab for cutie

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

The ER is quiet today - too quiet.

Nari tries to ignore the giggles and whispers that are permeating the sanitizer whiteness of the room, and concentrates on the breath sounds of the patient on the bed before her. She’s come in complaining vaguely of “chest pains” but it’s mildly frustrating; Nari can’t hear anything except absolutely normal breath sounds and heartbeats.

“Show me where you’re feeling the pain again?” she asks kindly, watching closely as the girl - a kid probably in her early twenties - frowns and gestures largely at the front of her torso.

“Just… everywhere,” she answers unhelpfully. 

Nari frowns slightly, not wanting to alarm her patient while a variety of scenarios start flipping through her mind as to why her chest sounds perfectly normal, not dismissing the possibility that her stethoscope is damaged.

She glances up at the girl’s friends, two similar looking girls who seem least bothered about their friend’s situation. Instead, they’re on their phones, exchanging grins and excitedly whispering, nudging the girl on the bed to look at something on their screens.

“Just - give me a moment. I’ll be right back.” Nari walks away calmly and doesn’t stop until she reaches the front desk of the ER. She leans over to the first year resident who’s manning the desk for the day.

“Hey, have you seen Dr Kang or… Cheon or… anyone else?” she asks. “I need a consult.”

“Oh, um, I think they’re all in surgery…” The resident checks a large board behind her. “Yeah, won’t be out for a while. Anything I can help with?” she asks quickly.

Nari nods, empathising with the annoyance of having to answer phones in the ER in place of practising medicine. “I have a case of chest pain - female, early twenties, otherwise seemingly healthy. Her breath sounds, heart beat and EKG are completely normal and she can’t seem to pinpoint any singular area of pain. Can you do some research to understand what this could be?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah, of course -“ She retrieves a notebook from her pocket and flips through it vigorously. “I’m sure I can find something -“ 

They’re interrupted momentarily by another sound of furious whispering - a group of medical student interns pass by them, giggling in hushed tones.

“Not to sound old or anything, but I swear we were more professional at that age,” mutters Nari, shaking her head.

“I kind of get it, though,” says the resident, shrugging apologetically. “It’s not every day there’s an idol somewhere in the hospital.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Like a k-pop idol? Here?”

“Uh-huh. It’s all super secret and high profile, though. He’s in the VIP section and has bodyguards everywhere.”

“Wow. That explains a lot. Anyway, let me know if you find something on the chest -“ Nari pauses abruptly, something clicking. She turns around slowly to look at the girl with the mysterious chest pains, sitting up straight on her bed and whispering with her friends.

“You know what,” she says instead, turning to the resident. “It’s a slow day. Why don’t you take over my patient instead?” she offers.

The resident’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Make sure to really ask her a lot of questions,” adds Nari. As the resident hurries away, pulling on her lab coat, Nari stops her. “By the way… who’s the idol?”

“Oh. Nobody knows.” The resident shrugs. “Rumour is that it’s someone from BTS.”

—

Nari waits outside the entrance of the VIP section, watching as one of the bulky bodyguards slips inside the private hospital room, presumably to ask the said BTS member if he knows and would be okay to see a Dr Choi Nari.

It’s a fifteen percent chance it’s Seokjin. If it’s any of the others, it will be a pleasant run-in. If it’s him… it occurs to Nari for the first time that he might not actually want to see her.

Just as she begins processing this possibility, the bodyguard pokes the upper half of his body outside the room and waves at her to enter.

Her heart leaping slightly, she saunters down the corridor silently, ignoring the two surely-vetted nurses giving her bewildered looks as she pushes open the door.

“Hey.” Seokjin, in a hospital gown, looks tired yet relieved. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Yeah?” Nari takes a few steps towards the bed, hands in the pocket of her lab coat, noting that he seems okay, except for an IV in his forearm and one of his feet elevated on a cushion. “You know where I work. Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

He purses his lips hesitantly. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” he says lightly. “I thought… this might one of those times where lack of privacy would actually come in handy.”

She nods, waiting for the heaviness in her chest to reappear, but it doesn’t. “It did. What happened to you?”

“Oh.” He seems to remember why he’s here. “Um… twisted my ankle. And our regular doctor is out sick today. Irony,” he adds in a soft sing-song voice, grinning when he realises they've done it in unison.

“M-hm. Who’s your doctor here?” 

“Uh… Park something. Park Naeun.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Head of the department?” She taps his foot with her pen, ignoring his dramatic gasp of pain. “Must be some twisted ankle.”

“That hurt!”

“No, it didn’t,” she says, giving him a look when his face immediately drops to normal. She points at his chart hooked at the bottom of his bed. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. You don’t have to ask.”

“Yeah, I do. Patient information is confidential and I’m not your doctor.”

Seokjin nods slowly but his expression is clear. Nari waits for him to say what she thinks he’s about to but then decides she doesn’t want him to.

She flips through the chart. “Your vitals seem fine. BP is a bit low…” Automatically, she pulls her stethoscope from the pockets of her lab coat and puts it on. “Sit up?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow but obeys. Keeping the chart down, Nari places a hand on his shoulder and gently presses the chest piece to his chest. “Take a deep breath,” she murmurs, listening closely, frowning when his heart speeds up slightly. She moves to his back. “Lean forward a bit?”

He does so, and the hospital gown falls from his chest to his waist. His skin feels warm where Nari places the chest piece on his back. “Slightly tachycardic. You’re dehydrated, Kimbap.”

“Bingo,” he says, sounding tired again. Up close, he looks paler. But his eyes look more full of life than Nari has seen them in a while. She frowns curiously for a moment before realising it’s the first time she’s called him Kimbap in months.

In order to break the silence, heavy with meaning, she places the back of her hand on his forehead. “You’re feverish. And you look thinner,” she adds, stepping away. “Have you been eating properly?”

He chuckles pointedly. “Hello, pot. I’m kettle.”

A smile flits across her face. “Shut up. I’m serious.”

“Airplane food is shit.”

“Even business class?”

“Absolutely. And touring is tiring.”

Nari nods, placing the chart back. There’s nothing much for her to do; rest and fluids are all he needs and both are taken care of for now. She hesitates, wondering if she should leave. A moment later, she takes a seat on the chair next to his bed.

Seokjin doesn’t try to hide his smile. “Don’t have surgery to get to?”

“It’s a slow day.” She nudges his bed lightly with her foot. “How have you been?”

Seokjin’s smile fades slightly, and his eyes fall. Nari bites her lip; it’s only been a week, but it feels like forever ago. Standing inches away from each other, his cheekbones under her fingers, his palpable desperation followed by clear, transparent realisation.

Despite that, it’s the first time in months that she’s been around him without wanting to cry. Talking with him is easier. Being around him feels like it used to. The truth is out there, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest. 

“Okay. Been thinking a lot,” he says, glancing up at her.

She nods. She wants to ask more, but looking at his pale face and clammy forehead, she decides not to. Not while there’s a chance of delirious answers.

“Where’s Seulgi?”

His face falls. “Oh, crap. I should call her.” He reaches over to his bedside table and picks up his phone, only to see a black screen. “Damn it.”

“You should let your people know to let her in,” says Nari, taking his phone from him and plugging it in to charge behind the bedside table. “They’re fairly intimidating.”

He half-chuckles. “And yet here you are.”

“The whole hospital’s talking about a famous idol here somewhere. Had to check out the rumour for myself.”

“Good to know.” He turns to check that his phone is charging and sits back. “She’s gone to see her parents in Busan,” he says after a moment. “So I don’t think I’ll see her. I fly out the day after tomorrow,” he adds, answering her silent question.

“Oh. You may not be in a state to,” she tells him, pointing to the IV in his forearm.

“Don’t have a choice.” He sighs and closes his eyes, placing his other arm over them. His chest looks white, not a single bit of loose flesh anywhere. But she knows better than to argue with his schedule.

“Keep a water bottle on you at all times. One with a carabiner that you can hook onto your bag.” She clicks her tongue. “There is no way that this is the first time I’m telling you this.”

“Okay, Dr Choi,” he mutters, not moving.

She slaps his shoulder lightly. “I’m not kidding. You’re making yourself sick. You look like a ghost, Kimbap.”

“On the plus side, my hair game has never been stronger.”

She reaches over and ruffles his hair until he slaps her hand away, laughing.

“Don’t be jealous, Nari,” he says loftily, delicately straightening his bangs along his forehead.

“I’m not,” she says honestly.

He gives her a small smile but says nothing. “Thanks for coming,” he says after a moment. “Truth be told… I don’t feel that great.”

Nari wonders if she’s imagining the double meaning, or if she simply wants to. The look on his face at the restaurant opening when she’d finally told him, in as many words as she could, how she felt; it had simultaneously broken her heart and renewed hope because now he knew.

Part of her had expected their lingering desperation at maintaining a friendship to die a feeble death right then, but Seokjin seems to be genuinely glad she’s here right now. She searches, again, for the heaviness - but it has disappeared.

“‘Course I did,” she says softly, squeezing his hand. He squeezes it back, warm and dry, and Nari feels like crying. Not out of sadness, or heartbreak - but out of relief. There was a lack of colour in her life but it’s back now, clear, beautiful and messy.

“Nari, look… about -”

The door flies open and Dr Park Naeun stands at the doorway, youthful as ever in her late forties, with a sharp frown on her forehead. 

“Dr Choi,” she states sternly. “I don’t remember assigning you on this case. Are you cleared to be here?” Without waiting for Nari’s response, she turns to Seokjin and her face softens. “I’m sorry, I was told you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“I’m not,” he says instantly, letting go of Nari’s hand. “Nari - er, Dr Choi,” he amends, glancing at her sheepishly, “is my oldest friend. No disturbance at all.”

Dr Park nods, still seeming a little unconvinced. “Alright. You should rest, though. Dr Choi - the ER isn’t going to run itself.”

Sensing her cue, Nari stands up, her hand brushing Seokjin’s. “Of course. Take care,” she says softly to him before walking past her boss and out of the hospital room.

—

Nari doesn’t stop by again except later that night to inform him she’s going home and checking his vitals once more. Seokjin stays motionless while she presses the chest piece of her stethoscope once more to his torso, soft and familiar fingers brushing against his skin. The medication makes his heart race but he tries not to show it, and he doesn’t exhale until she leaves the room.

He is discharged the next day; a shiny black SUV takes him back to the dorm, where all the members have elected to stay until the tour ends. It’s both convenient yet mildly chaotic; the only time any of them go back to their own apartments is when Dilara is in town, or if Jimin is to meet Sooah, or if Jungkook is entertaining one of his casual lady friends.

As it so happens, the only person in the house when Seokjin returns is Min Yoongi, eating a bowl of cereal at four pm in front of the television.

“Hey, you’re back,” he says unnecessarily. “When did - wait, why didn’t you tell any of us when you were coming back? We could’ve picked you up.”

Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “Not necessary. Everyone has enough going on.” He takes a seat next to Yoongi on the sofa and sighs, gratefully accepting the bowl of cereal and taking a large bite of choco flakes and cold milk. “Oh, God, that’s good,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I can get you a bowl,” offers Yoongi, heading to the kitchen when Seokjin nods. He brings back a plate with a bowl of cereal on it, along with toast and blueberry jam. “I know it’s carbs but you were sick - you need your energy.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about carbs right now,” agrees Seokjin, eagerly taking the plate and going straight for the toast, not emerging until he finishes an entire slice. “Jesus. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days.”

Yoongi nods, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. Yesterday was a bit shit but I woke up feeling pretty okay. Nari’s convinced it was the rest and fluids but I think it was the super comfortable hospital bed and jelly cups that did the trick.”

“You met Nari?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “How, uh, how is she?” he asks, sounding a bit guilty.

Seokjin is sure he’s recalling the disastrous not-date that occurred at the restaurant opening a week ago, but says nothing. Nari’s transparent embarrassment from that night doesn’t need to become public knowledge. 

“She’s okay. It was kind of weird seeing her in work mode, but - but it was good,” he replies, realising as he says it, that for the first time in a long time, it actually was good. Maybe it was the fact that he was sick or that he hadn’t actually seen her smile at him in forever, but it was the closest he’d felt to her in months.

Kimbap. And maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t alone in it. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“What?” Seokjin stares at his remaining cereal. “I’m -” About to deny it, he stops. “Okay, I need to get something off my chest.”

“Okay.” Yoongi mutes the television.

“I -” He takes a deep breath, not really sure where to begin. “Um… after the restaurant opening, when Nari was leaving…” He swallows, feeling his stomach squirm the same it has the entirety of the last week, every single time he thought about her and that night. “I think… Nari might have feelings for me.”

There’s a few moments of silence. When Yoongi doesn’t answer, Seokjin turns to him to see him looking back expectantly. “And?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Well…” Seokjin frowns.

Yoongi squints. “Please don’t tell me that’s news to you.”

Seokjin opens his mouth then closes it, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s not… news,” he admits. “But it’s confirmation. I didn’t think it was likely, not after the pregnancy scare and with that Jason guy… but I did wonder. Maybe,” he finishes, shrugging tiredly. “Kind of felt wrong to speculate once I got together with Seulgi,” he mutters.

“Does Seulgi know? Wait - what actually happened?” Yoongi asks instead.

“Nothing happened,” he clarifies immediately. “Not like that.” But it could have. Another second and I might have. “But… I mean, I would be deliberately obtuse if I didn’t see it now, right?”

Although it doesn’t answer his question, Yoongi tactfully doesn’t repeat it. “But you said everything was good with her yesterday?”

“That’s just it.” Seokjin pounces on what’s been going through his head for the last twenty-four hours. “It’s been a nightmare for almost a year and then suddenly it’s… we’re back to normal. Kind of.” He shakes his head. “I kept thinking it might have made it worse, having it out in the open. But it isn’t. It’s like a switch flipped.” I got my best friend back, he thinks, and a part of his heart soars.

“What does Seulgi think?” When Seokjin doesn’t answer, Yoongi sits back on the couch, still observing his friend. “Does she know about this new development at all?”

“It’s complicated,” he mutters. “I don’t even know what this development is.” He catches Yoongi’s knowing look. “I’m serious. It was, like, fifteen minutes in total and it was… normal. If anything, the last few months were a development. This is the default.”

Seokjin is mildly aware he’s rambling now, especially when Yoongi conspicuously utters nothing. It’s just as well; he’s run out of ways to explain the situation. There are no appropriate words to describe the wave of emotions he’d experienced since last week, beginning with shock and solace that Nari was finally communicating with him, stress and fear that this may just have pushed her away for good, and a numbing relief when she’d shown up yesterday. 

He wishes he’d hugged her. He wishes she’d stayed longer, or that stupid Dr Park hadn’t told her to leave. He wishes he knew what she was going through last week, if she was truly as relaxed as she seemed, if her confession really had been as cathartic for her to make as it had been for him to hear.

“Do you think you can travel tomorrow?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence.

“What? Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Seokjin shifts on the sofa, running a hand over his face. “It should be fine.” 

Tomorrow. It seems too soon now, now that there’s so much to leave behind in Seoul. She was happy. It was, at the crux of it, the detail that sticks in his mind. He imagines the weight off her chest, imagines her expecting something from him, imagines telling her what she wants to hear. It could get complicated, for certain, but the thought of it doesn’t tire him the way it used to.

“Hey, you know what?” Seokjin asks, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “That night, when Nari was leaving the party, she said you were… kissing someone?”

Yoongi goes very still. “She told you about that?” he asks, and there’s a bite to his tone.

“Well… she was upset,” he says hastily. “I don’t think she knew it was a secret… is it a secret?” he asks hesitantly, not wanting to overstep.

Yoongi is silent for a moment longer. “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” he mutters, and that’s enough to indicate that the topic is closed.

Later that evening, as he drives to the Big Hit building, Yoongi finds himself regretting being so abrupt with Seokjin.

But there is nothing to tell. He didn’t lie. There has been virtually no contact with Miso since that night, and he hasn’t been able to come up with a single appropriate way to begin conversation. Hey, I just want to skirt around the awkwardness of kissing you in a coat closet right after you admitted your psychotic mother has a habit of stealing men from you, so how’s it going? I miss you.

It was variations of this until Yoongi gave up, choosing to give her space and time to process everything and let the ball be in her court for once.

Even when he reaches the floor, he makes sure to only wave at her while she’s standing with Donghyuk and a couple of other people before ducking into his own studio. He stays there for a while, distractedly flipping through his files and trying to remember why exactly he’d come in today at all.

After a few minutes, he decides he needs a cigarette, taking the elevator to the terrace and stepping out into the pleasant evening air.

He lights his first cigarette and takes a deep drag, closing his eyes when the door creaks open behind him.

“They don’t let you smoke on tour?”

Yoongi doesn’t move. “They’d probably have a heart attack if I did. Although my make-up artist joins me for a secret one once in a while.”

“Clandestine smoke breaks feel different,” she agrees, slipping out her own pack and placing a cigarette between her lips. Yoongi reaches forward and lights it for her, and her eyes look brown in the brightness of the flame.

Miso breathes it in and lets the smoke out without flinching. “Didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”

“You didn’t?”

“Yeah… weren’t you in Europe or something this week?” She frowns. “The flying must be playing havoc with your system.”

She means the tour. Yoongi nods a little belatedly. “I guess. I’m used to it. I sleep when I can. How are you?” he ask after a moment.

“Same as always.” Miso takes another drag before giving him a side glance. “Also… I just want to move on from the whole… weirdness of our - of us, you know, kissing in the aftermath of my whole word vomit about my demented mother going after men far too young for her.” She exhales, having said everything in one breath.

Yoongi stares at her, blinking wordlessly before he realises she’s expecting a response from him. “Oh, hey… don’t worry. No weirdness whatsoever.”

She gives him a small smile and leans back against the railing he’s looking over, the city of Seoul lit up under them. Their shoulders brush and Yoongi tries to grasp at anything to keep the conversation going. “Um, so… how are things with - with you and your mom?”

Miso frowns slightly, as though she hadn’t expected this question. “As good as they’ll ever be? We’ve successfully ignored each other all week,” she explains, half-chuckling. 

Yoongi doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe; it’s not a common cue to take, so he simply nods. She seems a bit jittery; the last time he’d seen her like this, it was almost a year ago at her house, the first glimpse he’d gotten a peek into her life. He’s about to reach for her hand which is holding the cigarette and tapping absently at the railing, but at that moment she raises her hand to take another drag.

“Anyway, I, uh…” She clears her throat and taps the cigarette, ash falling on the ground, “I’m just glad we didn’t… I mean, you don’t have to feel like… God, it was a weird night,” she sighs awkwardly. “But it doesn’t have to… go anywhere. We can just go back to normal.”

Unlike her, Yoongi doesn’t look away. “Truth be told, I’m not really sure what normal is with us.”

Looking at the ground, Miso half-chuckles again, without humour. She’s wearing full sleeves again, despite a mostly warm day. Beige sleeves and a dark t-shirt on top; her skin looked white against it, like porcelain.

“I know,” she admits, flicking ash again. “But I’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be… anything different. Whatever normal is.” She shrugs and when Yoongi doesn’t respond, she looks up. “I’m just saying… it was a long night. I was on edge, surrounded by my mother and her friends and you… and everyone was hungry because they took forever to serve dinner…” She exhales, and grey smoke comes out of her nostrils. “Nothing… really happened.”

Yoongi stares at her, his face making no movement whatsoever for he finally feels as though she’s reaching the point. “What?”

Miso gazes at him, pursing her lips. It feels as though she’s reading him, trying to gauge what his question is referring to. She takes a last, deep drag and finishes her cigarette. “This is a good thing, Yoongi,” she says at last, stamping out the butt. “You got a look into the shitshow and… you’re getting out ahead.” She gives him a small, forced smile. “You’re off the hook,” she says in English, the unfamiliar accent jarring. 

She moves to leave while Yoongi stays frozen to the spot, his stomach sinking slowly. Then, as though jerked out of a trance, he extinguishes his cigarette against a metal pipe on the side and drops the butt, turning around and catching up to her in a few steps. 

“I’m off the hook?” he repeats, voice low and sticking to Korean.

She doesn’t look too surprised that he’s stopped her, but her forced nonchalance wobbles slightly. “Well, the proverbial hook.”

“Yeah? What hook is that?”

“The hook that pegged you to kiss me in a coat closet after I… dumped my mommy-trauma on you.” She shakes her head. “There was a lot going on and I don’t… I’m not expecting anything from you. Not for that.”

Yoongi bites his lip. “So… I’m off the hook for the spur-of-the-moment kiss we shared after I assured you that you can trust me.”

Miso’s eyes flicker momentarily but she reverts to her blasé expression instantly. “The words sound like you get me, but your tone is throwing me off,” she says wryly.

He takes a step closer to her. “You are,” he mutters tightly, his hand clenching into a fist, “the single most uniquely frustrating person I have ever met.”

“I don’t understand why you’re getting annoyed with me,” she replies, but Yoongi doesn’t believe her, scoffing and turning away. “You want this, believe me.” When he doesn’t answer, she folds her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you a dozen times not to get involved. I don’t know why you’re still trying to.”

“You know, I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself,” he snaps, walking past her and out of the terrace. He catches a glimpse of her just as the elevator doors close and he bristles; there’s no doubt, guilt or anger on her face. It’s an expression he’s seen numerous times before, annoying him more each time: the one of being proven right.

—

Donghyuk [21:15] Going out with some of the prods in a bit. Drinks on BH. You in?

Yoongi [21:16] Don’t think so. Too much to get done.

Donghyuk [21:16] Sure? Kim Namjoon’s coming too. Probably.

Yoongi [21:17] You asked him?

Donghyuk [21:17] Not yet.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, although Namjoon might just agree to go. Anything to get his mind off his girl.

Yoongi [21:18] Raincheck. In the zone right now.

Donghyuk replies with an irrelevant emoji but doesn’t push. Yoongi locks his phone and stares at the wide screens in front of him. A part of him had planned to return to the dorm tonight to give Seokjin some company; something about how deep in thought the older member had been earlier today was throwing Yoongi off. Seokjin didn’t divulge much, but Yoongi had a feeling he might want to just this once.

There’s also the added bonus of a hot meal most likely awaiting him at the dorm, for when Seokjin was stressed, he tended to cook.

Yoongi [21:25] Hyung. Need me to pick up anything for dinner?

Seokjin [21:27] Not for me. I’m probably going out.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at this unexpected response, his stomach rumbling sadly. But he ignores it, reaching for his half empty pack of cigarettes and debating another smoke break, when his studio door opens without permission and he turns, his heart skipping an automatic beat.

Miso pokes her head in, expressionless. “Donghyuk’s leaving. He asked me to check if you want to schedule the demo with that rookie girl group tomorrow at noon.”

Yoongi turns back around. “Sure. Anything else?”

She hesitates. “That Chinese place you recommended sucks, by the way. Their portion sizes are deceptively huge and now I’m stuck with enough Kung Pao chicken to feed a small army,” she states in mild exasperation before leaving.

The door swings shut behind her. Yoongi scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. Uniquely frustrating. Everything had to be an argument, and every argument had to be won by her, even if it was about an excess of Kung Pao chicken.

He checks his pack to see about half a dozen cigarettes left, when something clicks. He pauses and, on cue, his stomach rumbles again.

Grabbing his phone and the smokes, Yoongi stands up and heads out of his studio, making a beeline down the corridor for Donghyuk's. He can smell the food even before he pushes the door open.

Miso looks up when he enters, not looking entirely surprised, but - he notes with caution - her shoulders relax as though in relief. Four boxes of food are on the console table in front of her while she unpacks the chopsticks. As he takes a seat next to her mutely, she unpacks the last items in the bag: two cans of lemonade. She slides one over to him and he catches it.

“Thanks.”

She nods, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “I’ve heard the food’s not bad.”

“So have I. I didn’t know about the lemonade on their menu, though.” He takes a sip and swallows it slowly, wincing slightly at the tartness. “Not bad.”

Miso, her can unopened in front of her, observes him thoughtfully before bending over the other side of her chair and retrieving two cans of Budweiser Premium. She offers one to him, eyebrows raised.

“Are we allowed alcohol in here?” he asks mildly, taking the can anyway. 

“No idea.”

“Not afraid of getting caught?”

She hitches one leg on the edge of her chair and pops her can open, taking a long sip. “What are they going to do? Fire me?” 

Nope. Not daddy’s nepo princess.

A year ago, Yoongi would’ve said it out loud. The arrogance of her statement would have struck him in his very core, except now he can only detect apathy in it. What’s the worst they can do? Fire me?

He opens his own can and takes a sip, the cold beer feeling incredible in his chest. “God, I feel healed.”

The corner of her mouth lifts and she reaches over, and they clink their cans together. “Cheers.”

As they eat, Yoongi finds himself more confused than ever. Not only did Miso, in her own twisted way, offer an olive branch and buy him dinner, but for the first time since he’s known her, she is initiating conversation.

“Are you allowed to drink on tour?” she asks him, curiously scooping some noodles into her paper bowl.

“Only as long as we’re not seen. And as long as it doesn’t make us put on weight or bloat or break out…” He shrugs. “So… no. Not really.”

“Is the company afraid your fans will get scandalized if they see you, an adult man, consuming alcohol?”

He cracks a smile. “Something like that.”

“Damn. How do you smoke?”

“I don’t, as much. I wait to come home and do it in peace.”

She grins and his heart catches. “Yeah? Dreaming about the Big Hit terrace while sailing around the world?”

“You have no idea. Sometimes I wake up smelling instant coffee and cornflakes.”

“A man so loyal to his work,” she says dryly, chuckling when he waves a hand in mock-embarrassment. “Big Hit is so lucky to have you.”

“They make me do a lot more dancing than I ever signed up for, so… you know what? They kind of are,” he agrees, smiling when she laughs. “Damn, this is good beer.”

Without being asked, she hands him another one, and their fingers brush on the cold can. Their eyes meet for a fraction of a second before Miso lets go and leans back, busying herself with something else. Yoongi glances at her as he absently bites down on a mushroom, wanting to bring up their earlier encounter today, last week and all the preceding weeks - but it’s not a good idea. Not during this precarious time of… he isn’t even sure what to call it.

“How come you didn’t go out with Donghyuk and the guys?”

“Work,” he answers simply. “How come you didn’t?”

“Work, I guess. And I had all this food to finish,” she reminds him, gesturing to the half a dozen boxes on the table. “You’re only back for a couple days, though. How come you don’t want to, you know…” She does an awkward wave with her shoulders. “... party?”

Yoongi stifles a chuckle. “Someone had to help you finish all this food. Apparently it’s my fault there’s so much of it.”

“It is. But the food is actually quite… not bad,” she adds generously. “How’d you know about this place?”

“Oh, I, uh… I used to deliver for them,” he confesses, nodding when she raises her eyebrows in surprise. “It’s been a few years, but… there was this one apartment over in Hongdae that ordered in from there almost every single day. A couple of roommates, fresh out of college, I think,” he recalls. “I asked them once about it and they said they worked long hours and ordering in from here was what kept them going.”

“Wow.” Miso is quiet for a moment. “So you started eating from here, too?”

“Once I could afford it, yeah.” He catches her eye but she lowers her eyes, almost as if ashamed. “The shrimp fried rice is the best thing on the menu, though.”

She nods, glancing up at him. “Noted. For next time.”

Yoongi’s heart soars unexpectedly before his mind forces their disagreement on the terrace to the forefront of his mind.

“I didn’t know you delivered food,” she says after a moment. 

“Mhm. It’s also when I learned to pick a lock, because these kids in one of the Gangnam neighbourhoods would lock people’s bicycles for fun,” he tells her, rolling his eyes. 

“What? Why?”

“Who knows.” He tosses his empty bowl on the table and stretches back in his chair. “Dumb, rich kids with nothing better to do,” he mutters, looking up at the ceiling. When he glances back down at her, it’s to see her quietly cleaning up, her hair covering the side of her face.

Yoongi starts to say something but thinks the better of it, instead helping her clear the table.

“Tell me something about you,” he says a little while later, as they share a single serving of chocolate mousse. “Not your parents or your… driver or whoever. You.”

Miso raises her eyebrows, looking a little startled at the question; it’s clear that it’s not something she gets asked too often.

“I don’t know. I’m really not that interesting.”

He gives her a look. “I told you about being a delivery boy. Interesting isn’t the criteria here.”

“Fine.” She purses her lips and frowns, apparently thinking. “Okay, I have one. Ready?”

“On the edge of my seat.”

A smile flits across her face. “Okay… I’m red-green colourblind.” She shrugs hugely, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Huh. Really?” Yoongi wasn’t expecting that. “So, can you…”

“I can,” she confirms. “I wear contact lenses so I can pretty much see everything normally. But, yeah. That’s something about me.”

“Have you - sorry, this might be a stupid question -“ He raises a hand and she waves her own, permitting him to ask. “Have you always had it?”

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s genetic,” she adds. “My mother used to take me to the optometrist in secret, as if she was afraid that my father would explode at a reminder of a weakness,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “Actually, that seems pretty on brand for him.”

Yoongi frowns. “But if it’s genetic…”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have it,” she confirms. “Neither does my mother, which means she’s a carrier.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not something we talk about. Ever.”

She says it in a matter-of-fact way, as though it’s the most understandable thing in the world for her own issues to take a backseat to her egocentric father’s insecurities. 

Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “So it’s your little secret?”

“Kind of. Strange to think about,” she agrees. She is quiet for a moment. “She really did seem to care that I had the best possible doctors and specialists and whatnot.” She shudders. “It’s like a fever dream.”

He doesn’t know how to react to this so he follows her cue and returns her wry smile. “I saw a picture of you as a kid at your house. You were a cute kid.”

Miso narrows her eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Where are you going with this?”

“Nothing. Just picturing you holding your mother’s hand, going to the optometrist.” He grins when she rolls her eyes. “You did say she took you in secret.”

“Well, she and Seungkwan,” she amends. “Not that we ever discussed it with him but I’m pretty sure he guessed.”

This is news. Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? And he never told your father?”

A faint smile appears on Miso’s face. “It’s a dangerous thing to be that loyal to my father. Some things are better left ignored.”

He senses something else in her words, but doesn’t ask. He remembers her driver vaguely; somehow, he appears everywhere she is, whenever she needs him. 

“Well, I can keep your secret,” he promises her, leaving the last bite of the mousse and handing it to her.

Her smile widens as she takes it from him. “I know,” she says. “I trust you.”

Yoongi holds her gaze for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Miso’s smile fades. “Yoongi…” She trails off when he drops his head, suddenly tired. She begins again. “You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s ever apologised to me,” she tells him. 

She waits until he meets her eyes again, and he’s slightly startled at how sorry she looks. He struggles for a moment to recall what she’s talking about, the memories of the aftermath of the launch party crawling to the forefront of his mind.

“That isn’t -“

“I’m just saying… It seems okay now. Now,” she repeats. “But you really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not talking about my parents,” she says quickly when he opens his mouth. “I’m saying…” She sighs. “Yoongi, I don’t think I can give you what you want. I don’t know how.”

Yoongi says nothing; his throat feels stuck and he worries that if he speaks, his voice might break. It doesn’t feel like a rejection, but he also can’t find a way to respond. Once again, she’s won the argument. 

They leave soon after that, once they clean up in silence and Yoongi takes out the trash while Miso closes down Donghyuk’s studio. He walks her to the elevator, both of them walking beside each other with just enough distance between them to not touch.

I don’t know how. It bothers him more than he’d like to admit, and he can’t tell if it’s because of her fucked up parents or her general tendency to keep a distance that she believes she’s incapable of genuine human connection. 

When they reach the elevator and she reaches up to press the button, his eyes fall on her wrist and he wants, once again, to grab it and push her sleeve up her forearm. The bruise he’d seen all those months ago feels like a siren he’d ignored; it makes him sick to think about another potential one on her wrist right now.

The doors open, Miso glances at him hesitantly. “I don’t know about you… but I actually had a good time tonight.” She nods once. “Thanks, Yoongi.”

He slips his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Thanks for what?”

“You know…” She steps in between the doors to stop them from closing and turns to face him. “Helping me out… with the Kung Pao chicken and everything,” she finishes, her mouth lifting up at the corners. By the way she bites her lip, he knows his own face is betraying at least a hint of humour. Or maybe it’s exasperation, or annoyance, or infatuation, or everything at once.

“Your driver… Seungkwan?” He waits for her to nod. “He’s here?”

“Downstairs,” she confirms.

Take care. Call me if you need anything. Call me if you don’t need anything, too.

“See you around, Miso.” He waves mechanically and it immediately feels ridiculous.

She frowns curiously but mimics his awkward wave. “Bye.” She takes a step back into the elevator and presses the button, and he takes a similar step further back. She gives him a small smile as the doors start to close.

Yoongi starts to walk back towards his studio, noting the elevator only in his peripheral vision. As he leaves, the image of her on the terrace comes back to him; through another set of closing elevator doors, her look of mild satisfaction, almost expectant.

It only takes a fraction of a second; Yoongi turns on the spot and hurries back to the elevator, slipping through just before the doors close fully.

“Whoa.” Miso jerks back slightly, but doesn’t look annoyed “What are you doing?” she asks as he steps towards her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you again,” he assures her dryly, ignoring the look she gives him and reaching over to wrap her in a hug. He waits a moment, and then two, and then relaxes when he feels her arms go stiffly around his waist.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She smells of lilies and cigarette smoke. “But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere,” he promises her, closing his eyes and meaning every word of it.

It takes another moment but she tightens her arms around him. Her fingertips brush his shoulders and - he hopes he’s not imagining this - he feels her smile against his collarbone. 

They step away from each other a few seconds later when the doors start to open. There’s a tinge of pink on her cheeks he’s never seen before. She hitches her bag on her shoulders as she exits.

“Don’t be such a sap, Min Suga.” But the blush says differently, as does the small smile she visibly struggles and fails to hide. 

Yoongi grins at her, wide and gummy, feeling lighter and taller all at once. He’s made a decision, and now she’s in on it, too.

—

It’s almost close to dinner time, but for once Seokjin isn’t hungry.

His phone stares at him from where he’d tossed it on the futon a few minutes ago, the screen painfully dark. He was trying to spare himself the temptation of checking it every second, but this isn’t any better.

After staring at it for a few more seconds, he reaches for it and replays the voicemail he’d sent to Nari over an hour ago.

“Hey. It’s me. Seokjin. Er, Kim Seokjin. I got discharged and I’m home. I hydrated, too, like you said. Still am, in fact. You may have been onto something, Dr Choi. Anyway… thanks for coming yesterday. It really meant a lot and I’m… God, I can’t tell you how good it was to hang out with you again. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it. And… I do want to talk about last week. I know things have been really weird with us for a while but I don’t want them to be anymore. I’ve been thinking a lot this last week - I can’t help it, I’ve tried to stop, believe me. I’ve been way too afraid to lose you as a friend. I’d be lost without you, Nari. But… I may have been overcompensating on that front. I don’t know where this leaves us, but I want to figure it out. With you. Not in my own head, the way I’ve been doing it this whole time. I’m flying out tomorrow, but do you think we could talk tonight? Coincidentally, I have everything needed to whip up jajjangmyeon, too. Just throwing that in there. Let me know. Oh, this Seokjin.”

There’s a click to signal the end of the message, but Seokjin’s stomach churns more than ever, though not necessarily in a bad way. He’s officially entered the ring, albeit to do what, he isn’t completely sure. All he knows is that there’s no ignoring this anymore, the uncomfortable distance with Nari, the subtle hostility between her and Seulgi, the distaste with which he thinks of Kang Jason at the oddest times.

Nari hasn’t replied or called him back yet, but he tries not to stress about it. Most likely, she’s in surgery, or the ER, or even catching up on sleep in an on-call room. He’s determined to stay up all night, though; he can sleep on the flight tomorrow.

Automatically, his eyes fall to the last message he’d sent to Seulgi. Hey. I was hoping we could talk. Call me when you’re free?

She had replied a little while ago. Sure. Everything okay?

Seokjin didn’t have a response to that, so he’d sent her a skull emoji instead, hoping that would do the trick.

He wishes he wasn’t touring right now. There’s a better way to do this: with Seulgi, in person, thorough and rational - and then with Nari, slow and gentle, giving her space and control. 

But he has one day - no, one night - before he leaves once more for weeks, with all three of them left to stew in their own thoughts for that time. Sure, he can call - but calls can be ignored. So can messages, and voicemails, and then before he knows it, he’s back in Seoul, tired and jet lagged only to find out that the situation has progressed, leaving him completely out of the loop.

After considering it for a minute, he picks up the phone and calls Seulgi. Fortunately, she picks it up on the second ring.

“Hey,” she says, panting slightly. “I went out for a run; I was just about to call you. What’s up?”

“Um -“ He bites his lip. “Not - not much. How are you? How are your folks?”

“They’re good. Mum’s asking when she can meet you but I deflected that,” she adds, but there’s a knowing lilt to her voice. “You have enough going on right now.”

Do I ever. “I appreciate that. I just wanted to talk before I fly out tomorrow.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could’ve been there. You barely get any time off as it is and even when you do, I’m not in town.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He picks at a loose thread on the corner of the sofa. “You don’t have to accommodate your family plans around my crazy schedule. And I’ll be back again soon.”

“Can’t wait.” She pauses. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asks, apparently done with small talk. “You seemed serious.”

It’s not serious, he’s about to say, but stops himself. “It’s… it’s about Nari. We kind of… ran into each other.”

There’s another pause, a longer one this time. “Okay. When?”

“Yesterday, when she visited me at the hospital. I wasn’t expecting -“

“You were in the hospital?” She interrupts him, tone suddenly anxious.

He freezes. “Yeah, but it - it wasn’t serious. I was dehydrated, that’s all. I don’t even know why they took me to the hospital, honestly. I’m back home now.”

Her next response is instant. “But Nari knew?”

“I - only because it was her hospital. And I didn’t tell her - she found out.” He waits for her to respond. “Seulgi, it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t here - I didn’t want to worry you. I’m perfectly fine, really.”

There’s another pause and then she sighs deeply. “Okay. Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

Oh, boy. “Kind of. Well, no. I…” He sighs. “God, I really wish we were doing this in person,” he mutters.

“Wait. Are you -“ She scoffs, but it breaks slightly. “Are you breaking up with me? Over the phone?”

“No! No, I’m not. Look, I think I need to talk to Nari,” he says quickly before he loses his nerve. “It’s been a long time and I… I really need to know what’s going on. But I want you to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Where do I start? “I mean, you know what it’s been like. But it’s just been too long - and I think she might be ready to talk to me, too. I have to try and fix it with her… I hope you understand why, Seulgi,” he adds, meaning it and already feeling horrendous.

“But I thought she was mad at you.” Seulgi is calm - too calm, and it’s worrying. “Or something. What’s changed?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” It’s not a complete lie. I think she might have feelings for me based on a moment we shared a week ago, where neither of us actually spoke. Not only did it sound insane, it didn’t actually clarify anything. There was no point bringing it up when he wasn’t sure of it either.

“So…” She takes a deep breath on the other end. “Let me get this straight. She’s been evasive and distant and - let’s face it - sort of pissed at you. And then something changed… and suddenly she’s nursing you back to health during a hospital visit that I’m finding out about now.”

Seokjin closes his eyes. “I know it sounds bad,” he murmurs. “And I know it’s my fault it’s so messed up. I don’t… If I think back, I don’t know where I went wrong, but I’m sure I did something. You know?” He bites his lip, suddenly glad he’s flying out tomorrow, far away from his girlfriend and his best friend where he can’t hurt them anymore. “I don’t want to be unfair to you,” he admits.

“Why do you think you are?” she asks quietly.

“I don’t know…” He runs a hand down his face tiredly. “There’s a lot of history there and baggage and stuff…” There's no telling what we’ll find.

“You know what I think, Seokjin?” she says after a few moments. “I think you’re not fully sure of what you want. Or you are,” she guesses, “and you just don’t want to admit it because if you do and you don’t get it, you’re afraid it’ll devastate you.”

Seokjin swallows. His vision blurs without warning and he blinks rapidly, a distinct memory threatening to surface, of hope being crushed in his chest, a life he’d dared to imagine disappearing before he’d even fully wrapped his head around it. He’d repressed it as best as he could, figuring there was no one to blame but himself for this lapse in judgement, but it had inadvertently set actions in motion that he will regret for a long time. 

He’s taking too long to respond, he realises, but he’s afraid to speak. It might all boil down to that one night and the thought of what it meant - of what it might still mean - is too overwhelming to think about. 

“I’m glad you don’t want to be unfair to me,” she states, and there’s finally a bite to her tone. “So call me when you figure it out.” She hangs up.

Seokjin stays frozen for a minute before he sighs, tossing his phone back on the sofa and dropping his head in his hands. Suddenly, everything about his relationship with Seulgi feels tainted, now that his mind is involuntarily tracing the timeline of events back to the day he met her, and then ran into her again. She was lovely and calm and straightforward and put together - and he was so tired.

He needs to talk to Nari. He needs to. His mind is blocked and so is his heart, and it’s occurring to him now that it all comes to Nari. Everything comes down to Nari.

He’d been vague but he can’t imagine she would simply ignore his message, not unless she absolutely hated him. She didn’t, though, his brain reasoned. 

She’d visited him, actually talked with him, and she’d called him Kimbap. She would call. Even if she couldn’t meet him, she would call, or text. All he has to do is wait.

—

Nari takes off her lab coat and shakes her hair out, glad to be done with the day.

“See you tomorrow, Nari,” says one of her friends, a perky first year resident with the kind of confidence Nari could only dream of. “Say hi to your famous friend for me.” She winks and leaves.

Nari rolls her eyes but scoffs in humour. Somehow, the other residents in the surgical wing had caught wind of the fact that she knew the elusive celebrity idol that was admitted to the hospital yesterday and while she’d neither confirmed nor denied it, the story spread anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” comments Hyeri, her friend, changing out of her scrubs at the locker next door. “What did you take and can I have some?”

Nari frowns curiously and laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“That. The laughing and the smiling and the… being nice to first years and interns.” Hyeri raises her eyebrows. “We haven’t had the mental capacity for that shit in years.” She raises her eyebrows. “Is it actually because of your famous friend? I mean -” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “We’re talking about Seokjin, right?”

“I - yeah. He was here,” admits Nari. “Nothing serious, though. He got discharged today.”

“Oh.” Hyeri sounds surprised at the admission. “That makes sense. You’re relieved.”

Yes… and no. She’s certainly glad Seokjin’s okay, but despite how selfish it makes her feel, she’s even gladder that for the first time in a long time, she was able to be herself around her best friend. It’s definitely relief - Hyeri isn’t wrong about that.

“I can’t believe we’re actually out early enough to have dinner,” remarks Hyeri as they head out of the locker room, out of scrubs and in normal clothes again. “I’m going to get in the tub with a glass of wine and fall asleep in there. Obviously I’m not serious,” she adds quickly, catching Nari’s eye.

“Hey, no judgement. Add some candles while you’re at it and it’ll look like a Madonna video.”

Hyeri chortles. “I’m out of wine, though. Can you send me the number to that liquor store? The one that delivers?”

Nari nods, fishing her phone out of her bag. “Shit. My phone’s dead. Daeun has it, though - she’s the one who sent it to me.”

“Okay, let me - oh, there she is!” Waving hurriedly, Hyeri jogs towards the entrance to catch up with Daeun, another of their resident class who’s leaving for the night as well.

Nari smiles as she watches her friend dash away, and catches herself. The laughing and the smiling and the being nice to interns. It’s not a mystery, the origin of this brand new version of herself. It took a long time and a lot of frustration and courage, but a week after the fact, she knows she’s at a place with Seokjin that she was only hoping she would eventually reach.

It’s a start, she tells herself. It’s a start and irrespective of what happens next, at least it’s a start. She’s lighter and she’s calmer - sometimes, there are moments where she feels freer, as though the invisible chain that kept her tethered to her suppressed feelings has been cut through with a chainsaw. 

She stops by the pharmacy in the lobby of the surgical wing to pick up some antiseptic for her first aid box. While the cashier rings up her purchase, she turns absently and spots Jason at the reception, still in scrubs and handing in a couple of patient charts. As he clicks his pen closed and tucks it in his pocket, he grins at something the nurse says and responds, making her laugh.

Grabbing her antiseptic, Nari walks over to him, smiling when he spots her.

“Hey.” He takes in her clothing? “Leaving already? I thought you were helping Dr Park with her trial research.”

Nari shrugs. “She gave me the night off.”

“Wow. Is she okay?”

“I’m not going to ask; I’m just taking the night,” she tells him. It’s a start. “What about you? Are you, uh, free tonight?”

Jason raises his eyebrows casually. “Uh, yeah. I have a couple of things to close out, but I can head out in a bit. Or I can meet you back at my apartment, too, if you want.”

“No, um…” She shakes her head and bites her lip. She hasn’t done this in… ever. “I meant, are you free… for a drink.”

He clearly notices the change in her tone. “A drink,” he repeats. “Just you and me. Like a…”

“M-hm.” Nari nods, but she doesn’t think he’ll say no. Familiarity builds over time, and Nari is suddenly seeing the world - and the people in it - in a newer light.

After a moment, Jason nods. “Absolutely. Just give me fifteen minutes?” He waits for her to nod as well and smiles, touching her elbow as he leaves.

She watches him go and her heart beats pleasantly fast with a small risk that’s paid off. She’s definitely lighter, brighter, calmer - and she can only route it back to the night of her confession to Seokjin. It felt like a start but maybe - just maybe - it was closure.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#seokjin x oc #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jin fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts suga angst #bts jin angst

[bangtanhoneys]

Bangtan Baby: Easter Bunny

(image sourced from pinterest - ai generated)

Bora was 10 days from turning one year old and the Easter weekend had arrived with sunshine and warm weather, meaning she could be released in the small garden that belonged to Grace and Jin’s home. While South Korea didn’t go all out when it came to Easter, that didn’t stop Grace or her mother from going all out for what was going to be Bora’s first Easter.

A family meal had been planned for Grace’s parents, Seokjin’s parents, his brother and his wife with their two sons and obviously Grace and Seokjin with Bora. But for now, Grace was trying to get the little one into her baby bunny costume. 

“Don’t pout, JK,” Seokjin gently teased as he took the fluffy bunny ears that were on a headband and stuck them on the young man’s head. 

“I’m not pouting,” Jungkook grumbled while straightening the ears. 

“There we go,” Grace sighed as she pulled the hood over Bora’s head and grinned, taking a step back to look at her daughter and then her adoptive son.

“My two baby bunnies.”

Seokjin snorted to himself and hid his smile behind his hand, relishing in the sight of a flustered golden maknae and his young daughter who had no clue what was going on as she reached to touch the ears that were flopping into her vision. 

“What are we doing?” Jungkook asked, ignoring the both of them in favour of picking up his baby sister and trying not to smile when he saw her reach for his headband.

“I’ve done a little easter egg hunt for her in the garden,” Grace said as she handed over the basket. “Go and be a nice big brother and help her look for them.”

She was expecting more of a fight but Jungkook did nothing other than sigh, take the basket and turn to open the sliding doors, letting in the warm Seoul weather. Off they went, with Bora holding tightly to Jungkook’s tattooed hand as she took slow and unsteady steps along the grass. 

#bts 8th member #bts eighth member #bts additional member #bts female member #bts fic #bangtanbabyasks #bangtanbaby #seokjin x oc

[muniimyg]

SWEETENER // KSJ !!!!!!!!! ON HOLD !!!!!!!!!!

in which jin has a sweet spot for you

+

being your neighbour isn’t easy... especially when you’re constantly knocking on kim seok jin’s door. but to be fair; he knocked on your door first

navi | m. list | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !  

pairings:

softboy seokjin + extrovert oc 

au/genre:

strangers to friends to lovers 

neighbours au 

delusion [oc speaks for us all]

[slight] one sided pining / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, jealousy, miscommunication, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and the friendzone vibes <3

parts:

ongoing / 25

index # sweetener ksj

00 | intro

01 | crying rn

02 | wuver

03 | map

04 | delulu girls

05 | going thru it

06 | flirting

#seokjin fic #kim seokjin fic #bts fanfic #bts smau #jin fake texts #jin f2l #jin scenario #jin imagine #seokjin x oc #jin x reader #bts fake texts

[firesighgirl]

athina’s endless list of fav seokjin fics

welcome! after almost 2.5 years of reading bts fanfiction and almost 1.5 year of deciding to use this untouched side blog as a bts fanfic review blog (bc i hate being a silent reader), i think it’s time to do a list of the seokjin stories that i liked the most! don’t forget to show love to all the fanfic authors!!! thank you for providing us such incredible stories❣️

key:  💖 indicates my all time fav stories

SERIES

crystallised saga by @floralseokjin (complete, s, a, f, fuckbuddies2aquaintances2friends2lovers)💖 

hideaway by @bonvoyagenoona (complete, s, a, f, childhood friends2lovers)💖

effleurer by @sugaurora (ongoing/on a hiatus, s, a, sex work!au, boss!jin, bdsm themes)💖

instatiable by @heartbeatan (complete, s, a, succubus!oc)💖

fire & desire by @joonbird (ongoing/on hiatus, s, a, fuckbuddies au)💖

my tiny secret by @personasintro (complete, s, a, f, mistress!au, unplanned pregnancy)

girls want love by @raplinesmoon (ongoing? idk im just enjoying the ride, s, f, a, sometimes ft.hobi)💖

satisfy by @suga-kookiemonster (ongoing, s, f, a, kim line series, sex work au)💖

the platonic collection by @joheunsaram (ongoing? idk im just enjoying the ride, s, f, a, bestfriends2lovers, bdsm themes, idiots2lovers)💖

by your side by @sodoyouknowbts (complete, s, f, a, roommates2lovers, idiots2lovers, ft.joon)

show me yours & i’ll show you mine by @ktheist (complete, s, f, a, bff’s big bro!jin)

blurred lines by @yoonia (complete, s, coworkers au)

off limits by @floralseokjin (complete, s, a, f, big bro’s bff!jin)

the devil wears armani by @floralseokjin (complete, s, a, f, devil!jin, human!reader)💖

of bears and bonds by @yoonia (complete, s, f, a, were-bear/bear shifter!jin, witch!reader, fated mates!au)💖

made-up love song by @floralseokjin (complete, s, f, a, dilf!jin, single dad! jin, teacher!reader)

9 months to fall in love by @floralseokjin (complete, s, f, a, unplanned pregnancy!au, strangers2lovers to put it simply)💖

refinery29 by @kpopfanfictrash (ongoing, s, f, established relationship)

feral by @ilikemesometaetaes (ongoing, s, vampire!jin ft. werewolf!tae)

whims & inconsistencies by @hisunshiine (complete, s, f, a, historial!au, pride & prejudice vibes)

the light of dead stars by @ahundredtimesover (complete, s, f, a, arranged marriage, fake romance, ft. ex!joon)

chip and dip by @demonhoseok (complete, s, f, fuckbuddies!au)

feeling nauti by @ohharrow (ongoing, eventual s)

the a-listers by @httpknjoon (complete, f, a if you squint bc we all felt ANGSTY at some point) and confidential (ongoing, f)💖

little do you know by @yoongiofmine (complete, s, f, a, idol!ot7 ft. reader, playmate!au)💖

acquainted by @xpeachesncream (complete, s, f, a, professor!jin, engaged!jin, ft. jin’s little step bro!jk)

paraluman by @muniimyg (complete, s, f, a, sm!au, ft.bff!jk)💖

into the rush by @minisugakoobies (s, f, a, bff’s bro!jin, dodgeball!au)

internal conflicts by @yoongiofmine (s, f, a, step siblings!au but they didn’t grow up together so it’s not weird)💖

ONESHOTS/DRABBLES

thank you, daddy by @ktheist (s, a, sugar daddy!seokjin, sugar baby!reader)💖

kairos and the follow up story, appetence by @luffles424 (two shot, s, a, f, a/b/o, alpha!seokjin, omega!reader)💖

warm this winter by @jamaisjoons (s, f, a, ft. ex bf/still bff jungkook, one night stand!seokjin)💖

all i don’t want for christmas is you! and the drabble by @minisugakoobies (s, a, coworkers, enemies2lovers)

aubade by @junghelioseok (s, f, one night stand, domestic vibes)💖

in the dead of night by @ot7always (s,f, friends2lovers, vampire!jin, human!reader)💖

sunglasses by @joheunsaram (pwp, dom!jin, brat!oc)

on the ropes by @raplinesmoon (s, f, a, ex boxer!jin, ft.jk) + the extra drabbles💖

arrogant by @dreamyjoons (pwp, enemies2lovers)

the end. by @jimlingss (a, f, prepare to CRY YOUR EYES OUT)💖

jealous by @hobisuniverse (pwp, idiots2lovers, friends2lovers)💖

god of mischief by @wwilloww (s, f, ancient god!jin, priestess!oc)

winter solace by @floralseokjin (s, f, a, friends2lovers, neighbours2lovers)

what he wants by @likeastarstar (pwp)💖

final sleigh and the drabbles by @floralseokjin (s, enemies2lovers, coworkers!au)💖

knotty or nice by @lavienjin (s, f, sugar daddy!jin)

once bitten, twice shy by @fantasybangtan (f, coworkers au, so much bickering)

salt + shadow by @floralseokjin (pwp, strangers2lovers, ft.incubus!tae)💖

view by @noteguk (pwp)💖

small tuna fish by @floralseokjin (s, friends2lovers)

launderette by @hamsterclaw (s, a, strangers2lovers)

call me papi by @jjksblackgf (pwp)💖

my type by @floralseokjin (s, f, virgin!jin)💖

copy room christmas by @feliix (s, workplace!au, boss!jin)💖

wet & wild by @jamaisjoons (pwp, friends2lovers)

glazed & dazed by @floralseokjin (pwp, pornstars!au)💖

sugar by @wwilloww (s, sugardaddy!jin)💖

wallflower by @heartbeatan (s, onenightstand!au)

ravished by two by @yoonia (pwp, a/b/o, ft.joon, fated mates!au)💖

opaline moon by @missgeniality (s, f, a, friends2lovers)

strings by @sugakookitty (pwp, s, f, dilf!seokjin, strangers2lovers)💖

kiss it better by @ppersonna (s, f, roommates2lovers)

last november by @kithtaehyung (s, a, exes2lovers)

messy by @minisugakoobies (s, enemies2lovers, bro’s bff!seokjin)💖

ghostin and pt.2 by @pradaksj (two shot, f, a, SO MUCH CRYING)💖

love, lust, and life mushrooms and following drabble by @miscelunaaa (s, f, a, established relationship)

pink lemonade by @jjksblackgf (f, implied s)

hit;record by @kithtaehyung (basically pwp, ft.yoongi)💖

winter whiskey by @kth1 (s, f, established relationship)

sin for you by @inkedtae (s, a, historical!au, priest!jin)

make you scream by @luxekook (s, monsters inc!au, monster!jin, human!reader)

fast lane by @yminie (s, f1racer!jin, pitcrew!reader, enemies2lovers)

switching positions by @lavienjin (s, a tiny bit of a, sex workers!au)

urgent matters by @aamalaaa (pwp, established relationship)

cool’n by @sugakookitty (pwp, sugar daddy!jin)

all wound up (harder) by @minisugakoobies (s, strangers2lovers, rockstar!au, ft.bandmate!jimin)💖

damelo dos, papi by @jjksblackgf (s, ft.hobi)

allez by @hamsterclaw (s, a, fencer!jin)

sunday by @here2bbtstrash (pwp, established relationship)

day 12 drabble by @minisugakoobies (f, s, established relationship)

count suckula by @dreamyjoons (s, f, friends2lovers)

all you’re giving me is friction by @hot-soop (s, f, a, lovers2enemies2lovers, surfer!jin, lifeguard!reader)

mood lighting by @sugalaritae (s, f, established relationship, dilf!jin)

knocked by @sailoryooons (s, roommates2lovers, streamer!jin)

just what i need by @sailoryoons (pwp, established relationship)

wallflower in bloom by @bluewhale52 (pwp, sugar daddy!jin)💖

christmas warfare by @gimmethatagustd (s, f, a, exes2lovers)

soarin’ by @aquagustd (s, f, a, established relationship, pregnant!reader)

shush by @mapofthesea (pwp, ft.tae, implied ot7 x reader)

roses by @taehyungsgrowl (s, f, established relationship)

cupid’s on holiday and picking peonies by @persephonesorchid (s, f, a, cupid!jin)

the one with seokjin and the marathon by @eoieopda (f, friends2lovers)

#mine #bts #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #seokjin smut #seokjin x y/n #bts fic #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin x oc

[hobeemin]

vice ⚖️ teaser

⚖️ genre: smut, angst, drama, crime, thriller, f2l, soulmates to lovers, forbidden romance

⚖️ pairing: mafia boss!kim seokjin x (f) poc detective!oc

⚖️ summary: after disappearing 15 years prior, kim seokjin has returned running one of the biggest companies in the city. a powerful and charismatic ceo, no one has ever told him no. but he has a secret...how will his blooming romance with a childhood friend, now detective affect his lucrative activities?

⚖️ rating: 18+

⚖️ warning(s): swearing, physical violence, crimes, weapons, injuries, blood, murder, threats

⚖️ word count: 766

⚖️ credits: Many thanks to @raplinesmoon for looking this over and giving me much-needed feedback! 💜💜

a big shoutout to @dee-ehn for making this kick ass banner and divider!

⚖️ a/n: this has been in my wips for a long time now...as i slowly try to finish old fics and the ones I've plotted it out, its time to release something new! enjoy!

“How long do we have Yoongi?”

“Less than half an hour, Hyungnim.”

His lips thinned as he glanced at his watch. “I guess you better hurry this up then.”

“Well, the helicopter is on the way–”

“Fine. We’ll take care of this on the helipad then.”

He walked off before Yoongi could speak; instead, he sighed and followed his boss to the elevator. The man waited until Yoongi hit one of the buttons. Yoongi glanced down at his phone. They had little time, and he'd be punished if they deviated from his schedule.

They reached the top floor in silence. He walked out with Yoongi in tow, only stepping before him to open the door. A flash of light made his eyelids blink, adjusting to the sun. They were on the rooftop of a highrise building. The helicopter off to the side, propellers turning. The wind whipped his tie as he approached three other men, two standing and the one in the middle on his knees with a cloth bag over his head. He gestured to them when he stood before the man on the ground.

They snatched the bag off his head, and the man’s eyes blinked erratically as the light blinded him momentarily. Once he glanced at the man standing before him, his face paled.

“J-Jin…”

“That's Kim Seokjin to you, maggot,” Yoongi snapped, stepping forward to strike him across the face.

Jin shook his head, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Now, where are your manners? This isn’t how we take care of business.”

“Forgive me, Hyungnim,” Yoongi murmured, stepping back.

Placing his hands behind his back, he looked at the other two. “Namjoon, Jungkook, has he been forthcoming with any information?”

“None, Hyungnim,” Namjoon replied.

Jin tutted softly as the tiniest of smirks appeared across his face.

“I’m only going to ask this once. Where’s my money?”

“What money?”

Jin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m fairly certain; I said I would only ask this once. However, I consider myself merciful, so I’ll ask this again. Where is my money?”

The man spat down at his feet, growling with hatred. “You’ll die for this, Kim.”

Jin smirked once more as he began to roll up his sleeves. “My usual methods aren’t working, so now we’ll just have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

Yoongi handed him a small box, opening the lid. Jin gave him his cell phone before taking out the two brass knuckles that glittered under the sunlight. Slipping them on, he flexed his fingers. 

“Lovely, aren’t they? Never gets old. It seems once these are used, people’s minds change.”

Bones crunching filled the air as the man’s head jerked to the side. Blood sprayed onto the concrete as Jin stepped back in disgust.

“If you got blood on my suit, I’ll kill you,” he hissed.

The man trembled, looking up at Jin. “I-If I knew where your money was, I’d tell you.”

Jin reeled his foot back, slamming it into the man’s gut. He cried out in pain, crumbling to the ground in a ball. He brushed his hair back, rolling his shoulders.

“I’m tired of this game, maggot,” he snapped his fingers as Jungkook and Namjoon lifted the man to his feet. The man sniffled as the blood still dripped from his nose.

“P-Please–”

“Well, when you put it that way. Sure, I’ll show you some leniency.” 

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” 

Jin rolled his eyes, giving them a nod. Jungkook and Nmajoon lifted the man over the side. He struggled, screaming as they let go. His cries grew faint until the body slammed onto the street below. Jin removed his brass knuckles, placing them back in the box Yoongi held out for him. He adjusted his suit, nodding to his men as they ushered him to the helicopter.

“Make sure to clean that mess up, Namjoon,” he instructed.

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

Suddenly, the phone in Yoongi’s hand began to ring. He looked at the contact and handed the phone back to Jin. “Hyungnim.”

Jin waved him away. “Not now, Yoongi.”

“You might want to take this.”

Jin’s eyes darted to the screen as he snatched it away. Smiling, he answered it brightly. “Eomma! Yes, I know I was supposed to call last night…I’m sorry, business got hectic. Will I be home to visit? Of course! When? Sometime soon, I promise. Give Seokjoong and his family my love. Talk to you soon.”

Sighing, he laid back against the seat, closing his eyes. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, Hyungnim?”

“I think it’s time I visit home. Fifteen years is long enough to be away.”

#kvanity #clubzerooclock #ksmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtansorciere #kim seokjin #seokjin #bts #bts x oc #seokjin x oc #seokjin x drama #seokjin smut #bts drama #bts smut

[foxymoxynoona]

To Kill A King (Chapter 14)

Banner and linebreaks by the talented @awrkives

Summary: What’s more charming than Prince Seokjin? Nothing, obviously. Except maybe the rotating palace guests who each smile and bow and charm in an attempt to hide their true motives. Fortunately Seokjin has a close circle of friends (well, servants) who watch his back and endure his humor and help him navigate the tumultuous seas of heartbreak, love, and an arranged marriage, not necessarily in that order. If only they had helped him keep a closer eye on his bride-to-be’s handmaiden, who arrives with her own agenda… or maybe it would have been better if he had noticed her less? One thing is certain as this royal drama of the heart plays out: there are many people competing to kill a king.

Main Pairing: Prince Seokjin x Female OC Genre: Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance Rating: 18+ Content Warnings & story tags: includes explicit sex (mxf, fxf), possibly graphic violence/injury later, love and sex triangles or uh quadrangles?, sort of e 2 l, sort of bodyguard trope, sort of arranged marriage, a lot of plotting murder (it’s literally in the title), maybe character death, grief, pining, angst, love, oral (f & m receiving), public sex, I don’t know everything yet as the story is long and still being written

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NOTE: check out the Character & Setting Cheat Sheet for a refresher on who’s who

Old habits die hard. Though Dulce had shifted her purpose to finding some way to prove Nasimiyu and her father were planning to overthrow the Kim family –a thing she hadn’t the faintest idea how to accomplish– an opportunity presented itself in her quest for information that was simply too good to pass up. King Dong-gun quit the palace to go on another of those maniacal cave hunting expeditions, and took most of the palace with him, including Nasimiyu and that ice-cold uncle. 

It had almost been funny, that brief moment in which Nasimiyu debated whether to take Dulce. Dulce was back on laundry duty –surprise, surprise– but was carting clean clothes up to the princess’ room. Nasimiyu called for something she could wear on a hunt, then informed Dulce they were going to the caves in the morning, then looked at her in silence for a long moment… before deciding Eula would go. Eula had cried about it all night because she was scared of caves and guns.

Mirta had given Dulce a day’s worth of tasks which she utterly ignored. Was Mirta going to fire her? That would suit her just fine; the only thing keeping her from quitting was needing time to find whatever she could take to Prince Seokjin or King Dong-gun. 

As soon as Nasimiyu left for the hunting trip, Dulce ransacked her room. She put everything back so it wouldn’t be obvious, of course, but she dug through all the spaces she normally didn’t care about –the drawers in the writing desk, the false bottom of her jewelry box, the tiara box in the wardrobe that used to house a secret supply of snacks until Nasimiyu ate through them within days of arriving in Priva. 

Rooting through the wardrobe made Dulce wonder if Nasimiyu would rat her out about killing the spying man at some point. She could. A princess’ word against a maids would result in nothing other than the death penalty for the maid. Nasimiyu could toss in that Dulce had threatened her about it. It didn’t even have to be true, Nasimiyu could say whatever she wanted and have Dulce’s head off in a moment. Rather than frighten her, this power disparity pissed Dulce off.

She clearly and obviously ought to leave immediately, before that could happen. What was holding Nasimiyu back from doing so this very day? She was clearly angry about Namjoon still, and hadn’t said a word to Dulce since she’d walked in on her and Prince Seokjin fucking. Was she waiting and hoping for Dulce to come groveling to her? Or just biding her time until she could surprise Dulce with an accusation and death?

It didn’t make any sense, and Dulce hated not knowing. She was too close to this one; she wouldn’t be able to leap away before Nasimiyu’s dagger plunged in.

She had to be fast. Faster than this.

But there was nothing incriminating to be found anywhere in Nasimiyu’s room. The letters from her mother were dull and saccharine. There were no letters from her father. She didn’t keep a diary, not even a fake, so there was nothing to betray her as a fiance either, no pining for Namjoon inked onto pages in her hand. Dulce had taught her too well, it seemed.

Dulce paid a visit to the old room Nasimiyu had stayed in, but there likely hadn’t been anything notable there either before it was wiped clean. Same for the rooms Prince Hamisi and Princess Simisola had lived in. 

What was Dulce’s next step here? She felt hopelessly out of options. She could approach Prince Seokjin and just tell him… but why would he believe her against his own fiance? He wouldn’t. Dulce was just an out of favor maid. Well, she could tell him more than that if she was willing to sacrifice her own security…

But how did one prove they were an assassin hired to spy and assassinate you? She had no written orders. No secret society brand on her shoulder. No poisoned dagger bearing Prince Hamisi’s emblem or any of the other clues that led to the capture of the villains in the Kalamouche novels. The emblemed dagger in the most recent book she’d read had really done her in, it was nearly enough to make her laugh, it was such a stupid idea. What idiot gave an assassin a clear and obvious connection back to the purse-holder? Dulce had found herself wishing she could meet the author and give him a good thrashing and tell him to do better –nobles were absolute idiots but in a very different way than that. But it had then led to the mental play of Prince Seokjin meeting the author and probably being so exuberant and excited about it because he probably read these ideas and thought they were genius and it had ticked her off so much, this day dream, the fact that she was daydreaming about Prince Seokjin. 

What was this man doing to her?! Why?! She had met so many men in her life and this one was… was ignorant and naive and too trusting and… honestly, a clown. And thoughtful and considerate and inappropriately chivalrous and unfortunately almost funny and generous and from what she could see, honest. If he was not honest, he had fooled her. Otherwise, he might be one of the only honest people she had ever met in her life. Everything about him seemed so sincere. Was that true? He did not seem to consider himself when he put himself forward to help someone –a maid who didn’t need rescuing, a crying child, a servant who was secretly his brother and an inherent threat to his throne.

Fuck that guy, he was messing with her head. She had to figure something out and then get the fuck out of here. She’d do her best to find some way to open his eyes to the dangers around him, but she couldn’t die for him. She needed to be gone before Nasimiyu figured it out. Possibly the only thing staying Nasimiyu’s hand right now was that she’d never directly caused someone’s death before. Could that be it? Was there some conscience after all beneath that ridiculous flower crown Prince Seokjin had given Nasimiyu for dinner last night?

She circled the palace trying to look like she had somewhere to be without actually having an aim. Prince Hamisi was too smart to leave anything incriminating in the Kim palace. Nasimiyu never had anything to leave around. She could try interrogating Nasimiyu’s guards or maids for anything but it would raise suspicion on herself unless she killed them afterwards, likely not get her anything, and another death around Nasimiyu would probably send the palace into another frenzy.

How ironic. Dulce was possibly the greatest threat to Nasimiyu, wasn’t she? It occurred to her that striking Nasimiyu down and lying in wait for Prince Hamisi to come running back would be the quickest way to ensure they couldn’t harm Prince Seokjin.

But actually killing Nasimiyu… It made Dulce’s stomach turn. She didn’t need to go that far right now. Dulce was efficient and purposeful, but she wasn’t wasteful. Death was inevitable, but that didn’t mean Dulce was eager to dole it out, not to someone she had so recently been so close to. Honestly, did Nasimiyu deserve to die? She shouldn’t be queen but..

Dulce was compromised. She was too sentimental. The objective truth was that no one person was worth more than the lives of dozens or hundreds of others, but right now Nasimiyu wasn’t a threat to dozens or even hundreds of people. If she died today, there would be a new and probably worse princess betrothed to the prince tomorrow. Nasimiyu was selfish and stubborn but supposedly had good intentions, so in a world where her rule wasn’t a threat to Seokjin’s life, Dulce would have left her alone. 

“I have a packet for the King,” a deep voice said, traveling closer up the hallway.

Another voice scoffed, “And I told you, he is not in the palace today so you will have to wait or leave your missives with me.” Dulce recognized the voice of Han-gyeol Jung –that weasley old man constantly looking down his nose at young men and squinting like he could see through the dresses of young women. Allegedly he served as a ‘deportment’ tutor for Prince Seokjin but seemed to leave his more palatable son to do most of the actual refining work. 

“I’m in a hurry,” the man said, which struck Dulce as odd. If you had things to deliver to the king, wasn’t that the most important thing you could do? Unless you were just impatient, but he didn’t sound impatient, he sounded… nervous. “They must be delivered directly to the King.”

When Lord Jung or whatever the fuck his proper title was refused to go and physically retrieve the King from the caves, the man snapped that he would try again tomorrow but he wasn’t spending a night here and stomped off. Dulce watched the elder Jung subtly around the corner. He looked completely unbothered by the man’s insistence, as if this sort of urgent entitled demand to see the king was a common occurrence. She found it more curious that he would act as a kind of butler or intermediary for the King in his absence rather than the Castellan or literally anyone else. It seemed outside of his job scope. But what did she know? Besides, most of those people had gone on the hunt. 

He strode off to do another task. So the King must not be lying in wait expecting anything urgent, otherwise surely he would let his butler know to fetch him at once should a messenger arrive. Unless Han-gyeol Jung didn’t know anything either and had just unknowingly thwarted something actually very important

Dulce had nothing better to do though (what, maid chores?) and decided to follow the man with the message. He’d not gone far and anyway his steps were loud enough to easily find him, the idiot. She tailed him out of the palace and down into the city, right out the front doors. Nobody looked at him, and she supposed she struck the right balance of looking like a nobody maid that nobody bothered with her either. The man did keep looking anxious around himself but he clearly wasn’t worried about an innocent looking maid with her hair wrapped in a white kerchief the only time he might have seen her over his shoulder.

They moved further into the city. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, which made it easier to keep up with him because his movements were purposeful and obvious. They passed through a couple neighborhoods before he entered an unremarkable tavern, the Bear and Beer.

“Need a room?” the innkeeper asked as the man went straight to the counter.

“Yes, only the night. Middle of the row if you’ve got it,” he said, already dumping coin on the counter as though he knew the cost. They didn’t seem to know each other but he must have been here before; he didn’t wait for further instructions about how to reach “Room 4” before taking the key and heading up. Locking doors meant this was a nicer place, though Dulce could have guessed that from the quiet and decently clean downstairs. The innkeeper kept the keys on a loop that jangled at his hip, which would make it harder to get the spare for Room 4 that he surely kept.

“What about you, need a room?” he called, unfortunately spotting her right away.

Annoyed, she said she was hoping to meet someone and ordered a beer for while she waited. Since it was early in the day, she had her pick of tables where she could watch the few folks who came and went. No one looked suspicious, or even remarkably unsuspicious which could itself be suspicious. Those who came down looked like they’d had a late night to sleep off. Three went up during the time she watched –a maid with an armful of clean linens and a pair with a massive bag between them and the air of disappointment, whatever their business had been that morning.

This was stupid. She was wasting her time on what was likely one of a thousand people who tried to visit the king on any given day and were turned away, and for what reason, because she was bored and frustrated around the palace? She’d have as much luck finding something useful blindly wandering the streets.

She paid for her beer and headed for the door but felt the shuffle of movement close behind her. Turning, she caught only the back of a figure heading purposefully for the stairs as several other people moved around the room at once, getting up to refill mugs of beer or empty tables or step closer to the fire. All normal gestures, but Dulce felt as if the world had thawed quite suddenly, which struck her as odd. Not everyone seemed to be orchestrating something, but rather like something predictable had happened –the waitress had brought in a large tray of food– just as she had risen from the table and others had moved in synchrony too. Coincidence. 

But the two people who slipped quickly up the stairs as if they did not wish to be seen felt more intentional. Like people trained to take advantage of a predicted moment of distraction.

Dulce strode forward and bumped into the waitress, who promptly toppled the whole tray onto the table. The patrons leapt up and the waitress leapt back and the innkeeper came running around from the bar squawking about the mess, shoving the waitress out of the way in his rush to apologize –which was just enough physical distraction for Dulce to unhook the ring of keys from his belt. It wasn’t even a twist latch! The fool.

She disappeared up the stairs in the chaos, shedding her cloak and the kerchief in the process, wrapping them into a bundle to mute the jingling of the remaining keys once she’d pulled off the one with the 4 scratched into it.

She put on her best oops wrong room face and rushed through door four… to be met with an empty room. The man had either left or met his fate, but it was definitely his pack still sitting on the bed. She frowned at the stillness and pulled her blade from her pocket, the little shitty one Nasimiyu had given her since it was the closet on hand. If she reached for her boot, he might rush out of the wardrobe or something.

He wasn’t there when she checked though, nor under the bed. Convinced she was alone, she promptly upended his bag. She shoved aside some light clothing, a miniscule bag of money, no more than a handful of jerky and a cheap necklace, and instead focused on the small leatherbound journal –oddly expensive compared to everything else– and a short stack of sealed envelopes. Everything else she shoved back inside, hoping it would buy her some time before the man realized he’d been robbed –of what was probably just a complaint about his neighbor. Dulce realized she was being very rash right now.

A noise in the hallway made her freeze, then leap into the wardrobe mere seconds before the door swung open again. In walked the man she had followed, pulling at his waistband as if he’d just pulled his pants up. 

Well shit.

If he had any wits about him, he was going to check the wardrobe in a moment to make sure his room was secure and find her, and what was she going to do? If he was rotten folk, she could kill him and be on her way, but if he wasn’t, she’d rather knock him out.

He didn’t check the wardrobe yet. Instead he sat at the table and produced some cheese and a hunk of bread from his pocket. She held her breath, expecting he’d open his pack for the jerky and notice his precious papers were gone– but he didn’t.

Were people really such fools they didn’t check their rooms first?!

Dulce set the keys in the bottom of the wardrobe with her cloak, moving slowly and carefully so as not to produce even the faintest brushing sound. Then, by the light creeping in through the shoddy cabinetry, she eased open the seal on the first paper and did her best to read. The hand was scratchy and rushed, masculine she thought but couldn’t be sure –her own hand was masculine, she’d been told long ago, as if that mattered.

HD not in Sartia as directed – SD alone

HD crossed border near Ft Gaysa, could not follow, gone 3 days

HD headed north

Dulce’s brow knitted. How annoying to be simultaneously in code but not really. Per request sure sounded like this man had been sent somewhere, to trail this HD to Sartia–

Hamisi Dabo. Dulce was no font of knowledge on famous or infamous persons, but Prince Hamisi had been headed to Sartia with his wife, Simisola Dabo. People were stupid and often the most obvious answer was right.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Was this important? That Prince Hamisi had lied about going to Sartia? What was at Ft Gaysa? If that wasn’t notable, the fact he had crossed the border down there sure was; no one was allowed to cross the southern Therepin border, it would nullify the very precarious treaty after the Therepin Border Wars.

She shoved the note down the front of her dress, blood pounding in her ears as she carefully opened the next. It was in a different hand and dated separately, sealed differently, as if the letters had been sent by two different people completely which left her unsure how they had both wound up with this man.

Summary report on investigation into recent Therepin skirmishes. Full reports arriving separately

1: No witnesses survived. Entire village dead and burned. Civilian deaths: 76.

2: Reliable eyewitness reports invasion of village at dawn. Military arrived 22 minutes later. Military deaths: 1, Assailants: 14 reported - bodies burned could not verify, Citizens: 7. 

3: Eyewitness claims assailants came around from the north not south!!! Military arrived in 11 minutes. Military death: 1, Assailants: 13 - bodies burned could not verify, Citizens: 18.

4: Two witnesses survived by hiding under floorboards, have gone missing since interview. Claimed to have heard assailants speak of belonging to Sons of Sunset. Military deaths: 0, Assailants: 32 reported - 3 bodies produced, rest burned could not verify; Civilian deaths: 49 + assuming 2 witnesses

Dulce’s mind was racing. These reports were exactly what she was looking for! Proof that Hamisi was up to something. He shouldn’t be crossing the border, and if the Sons of Sunset were attacking towns and blaming another country, the king needed to know!

But maybe he already knew? She couldn’t tell from just these notes if the King was investigating Prince Hamisi on his own, or if he was just looking into the skirmishes, or what. She knew the royal family had a network of spies, though they tended to be clumsy and easy to identify. This man seemed excessively clumsy though to be carrying such precious documents only to leave them unattended in his room for even a moment. He must not know what he had.

Damn she wished she knew more about what was going on at the border for the notes to make more sense. Namjoon had ranted within earshot at some point but she wasn’t very political and had ignored him. Nonetheless, she would now make sure these landed in the King’s hand directly. 

The third didn’t have a seal. Just a dashed, unsigned note on a thin slip of paper.

Delso dead. I’m followed. Take this copy in case I’m done. Watch your back cmdr dsk on the move hunting for squeakers

Cmdr Dsk… Commander Dong-suk Kim? These things weren’t even in code! Any good spy knew the point of code! Though she considered that if the point was to get this information to the King, maybe code wasn’t useful. After all, she was not part of his spy network but understood at least some of the message that needed to make it to the king. It wasn’t actually in the King’s interest for these things to be secret, it was only in the interest of the messengers themselves but by the point someone was reading them, you were likely already dead–

A knock at the door to the room made her head jolt up as quickly as this messenger’s. He rose slowly from the table at another knock. He took a step forward and drew his blade at an even harder knock, nearly enough to take the door off its hinges.

The man started to run for the window, but the act of grabbing his pack from the bed was too slow –he ought to have grabbed and run first, the fool! And he paid dearly for it as the door crashed in, the lock shattering right out of the doorframe as one of the suspicious men she’d seen slide upstairs earlier launched himself through.

A thrown dagger caught the messenger in the back of the neck and he toppled forward, metal protruding through the front. Still his body dragged him forward but there was no fight for life possible and by the time the large man carelessly ripped the bag from his shoulder, he was still and limp.

“Is it the right room this time?” a second voice demanded. He elbowed the door back into place after a peek down the hallway. “You sure it’s him?”

“This is the guy.”

“--Is what you said about the other.”

Dulce waited, calculating. If they’d made short work of someone in another room without even her hearing, they were a trifle better at their jobs than this careless messenger. She could remain hidden and hope they left, but only an idiot wouldn’t check the fucking wardrobe.

Two to one… she’d faced worse odds. All three notes carefully down her bodice, she eased her favorite dagger from under her skirt, touched the one in her boot to make sure it was at hand, took a deep breath, then launched herself from the cabinet.

They’d upended the backpack and the bigger man’s wrist tangled in the straps, which slowed him down enough for Dulce’s blade to slash his upper arm. His other first swung around and would probably have knocked her out cold if she hadn’t ducked just as the smaller man’s blade sliced at her back. Fabric caught and tore thanks to a hook on the tip of his blade that would do even nastier things to skin if she let it, but also presented a weakness. She tried to catch her blade in it to yank it away but misjudged the angle once, twice, three times; their blades struck and slid against each other, the metal grating noise making her skin crawl. It was too much thinking and not enough movement to keep her out of reach of the second man who wasn’t that bothered after all by his cut arm: he plucked her around the waist and threw her against the wall like a rag doll.

“Quiet,” the small man hissed at him after the thud. Dulce groaned and rolled onto her stomach, wheezing. But she’d managed to save some of the breath in her lungs by curling as she flew, and took advantage of their assumption she’d be down. She dragged herself deceptively slowly forward and when the smaller man lifted a leather boot to kick her, she stabbed her smaller blade right down into the toe of his boot as hard as she could. Those fine leather boots of his parted like butter; the toes she stabbed through put up more resistance. He yowled.

“Quiet!” the bigger man mocked and lifted Dulce from the ground by the torn back of her dress, his other blade already slicing at her middle as if to gut her. She slashed at his wrist with the second knife. He tried to knock it away, opening himself up to a straight stab to the gut with the blade from her boot, and another and another. Her blade sank in several inches each time, blood rushing out as she pulled it out, but nowhere deep enough to hit anything vital.

“Fucking whore!” he bellowed and dropped her just as the other man stabbed forward. They weren’t well coordinated and managed to knock into each other while she ducked down and spun away. It only saved her a moment though before both were on her again, small blades biting anywhere they reached. The room’s space was too tight to really maneuver away and they shoved furniture, blundered into the walls, tripped over the body of the messenger, crashed against the bed. 

“Just grab her!” the smaller man shouted. Dulce instinctively leapt away from the larger man as his fist clipped the back of her head, but maybe intentionally so, it had been a distraction and the smaller man slashed at her throat, just missing. Dulce struck back but another blow to her back pushed her right into the man’s blade; she knocked it away from her belly but he brought a second around to stab at her back. She slammed her foot onto his thigh and jumped high so that his blade sliced the side of her leg instead, tangling in her ridiculous skirt and tearing fabric and skin both. She returned the favor against the man’s face, an attempt to kill him that sadly missed.

Dulce felt a meaty hand grab the front of her dress and turn her for what was undoubtedly a death blow. She turned faster than the larger man expected and wrapped around him, the strings of her bodice ripping and tangling around his hand as she slid onto his back, her blade dragging across his throat like a caress. It was butchery; she couldn’t risk her cut being too shallow again. He threw himself backwards to avoid the depth, crushing her against the dresser as his blood fountained out and his body began to thrash in in a fit of primal survival. It took all the muscles of her arm to tear that pipe. She managed to slide away from him, diving after the other man who seemed monentarily shocked that she’d managed to down his companion –but not shocked enough to meet the same fate. 

He leapt towards her as the other man still flailed, blade extended. Dulce tripped on the dead messenger and it saved her skin; neither she nor the smaller man expected her to drop just then. She rolled around him instead and stabbed at his thigh; the blade sank in but her fingers were locked too tight so when he leapt away it jerked her along too, exposing her side. Her skirt twisted around her leg and later she’d curse herself for wearing such a stupid thing. He took the opportunity, blade going right for her ribs. Her turn dragged it instead across the tops of her breasts, a shallow slice that stung like a bitch. the other side of her torn bodice caught the actual hook of his blade. She stabbed in the direction of his arm. 

He surprised her, shoving his hand down the front of her chemise. She thought he was stabbing and tried to twist away. 

Instead he pulled out the notes she’d tucked, dashed with her blood and sweat and crumbled beyond belief. He flashed her a grin and was out the window in a heartbeat, unbothered by the knife she threw at his back. Dulce tried to stumble after him, to follow him out, but her legs refused and she merely crawled forward. By the time she reached the, he was long gone and she was alone in the bloodied, broken room with two corpses, the larger one still blinking and gasping but beyond consciousness.

Dulce panted for breath and felt herself, searching for anything fatal. It had all happened so fast. Bruises and cuts she hadn’t noted in the moment competed for attention but adrenaline kept her from surrendering to any of it just yet. 

The notes were gone. 

Fuck!

That’s what they’d been looking for.

She didn’t have time to think about it right now. They’d been noisy; any moment someone was going to crash through the broken door and she couldn’t be here. She refused to take the fall for whatever she had stumbled into.

Fuck, the notes were gone. It killed her. They were exactly what she had needed! She didn’t want to leave empty handed but pounding steps in the hall told her she had seconds to act. She grabbed the messenger’s coat he had previously hung on the chair and yanked it on over her torn clothes and with her braid tucked down, pulled his hat on low, and rushed towards the door. 

“Hey! What’s going on in there!! Open up!” the inn keeper or someone matching his anger shouted ahead of themself, storming down the hall. Dulce weighed her options. She could rush out but didn’t know how many people were there. The other man had gone out the window, so there was a way. He might be waiting but it was her best change.

She grabbed her favorite blade and leapt onto the windowsill, eying the likeliest path he had taken. 

Shake all you want, but you’re moving on, she told her legs and took the leap. It was a tight scrabble. Her fingers ached for purchase. She shimmied along the narrow ledge until she reached the lower roof, then tore over it before anyone from the ground would hopefully notice her. The stables on the other side had enough boxes to leap down like a cat and off she raced as soon as her boots touched ground. Some globs of blood dotted the hay-strew ground; she’d got the man good at least once and wished now she’d at least had a good look at his face. She would never recognize him in a room and that pissed her off. He might recognize her.

She noticed  the gasps and curious, nervous glances as she sprinted down the street until she knew her legs really were about to buckle. Then she slid into an alley, turned the coat inside out, and did her best to piece herself back together. 

In doing so, she discovered she still had one paper: HD not in Sartia as directed – SD alone

Useless on its own.

Now what to fucking do. She was injured, unclear how badly. She knew she looked awful and would raise too many questions if she limped into the palace like that, but where else did she have to go? She didn’t even have the money for a room to wash her face in.

Taehyung or Yoongi? Which could she get to without being seen? Which did she trust to help and not question? What a loss that Nasimiyu couldn’t shield her now.

Neither, she didn’t trust anyone. Ever. People were only loyal as long as it served them. No oath in the world was sacred, even one of love, and they had sworn her nothing.

But she had no other options.

She took her bet and set off, already crafting her story.

“Come on,” Drin cajoled, jostling Seokjin’s arm in the hallway. “You can’t avoid the hunt.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Seokjin lied, lied as big and strong as the angry surf that had crashed against the sea wall all night. It called to him, that sea. Only slightly in a macabre way –and not because of the wedding planning, that was fine. He wasn’t avoiding wedding planning. Why would he be avoiding wedding planning? Nor was he avoiding his uncle, as Drin now gracefully hinted it:

“You’re either avoiding your uncle or the caves but either way, you’re fucked. Your father has sent for you. A tummyache ain’t a good reason to skip the hunt.”

“Actually I find it a very good reason,” Seokjin quipped. “Would he have me shit my horse?”

“You can’t blame a stomach to avoid uncomfortable things, little prince. Turn right around and suit up for the hunt. Wear a baby’s swaddle to hold the shit, if you need to.”

“Does no one take me seriously?”

“We know you’ve a history of avoiding–”

“I’m not avoiding anything, except maybe the kitchen.”

Because god save him if he ran into Dulce there. Not after Dulce had walked in on him… with Nasimiyu… A cold shudder ran through his body, followed by the flush of a fever of mortification. It would have been bad for anyone to walk in –didn’t anyone fucking knock?! But of all people, for it to be Dulce, it just…

He wanted to scream. To cry. To throw up. He’d done none of those things. He had quickly dressed and fled to his room and taken a hot bath to wash the sex off and considered drowning himself more than once. For all he knew, his dick had shriveled into his body and would never emerge. Certainly he was never going to have sex again. He was private about sex, thank you very much, so for an unwelcome guest to intrude–

And for it to be Dulce– on or around her birthday, of all times!

Seokjin was not easy to embarrass. But this had done it. And, with little practice in recovering from an embarrassment he rarely felt, he was, in fact, hiding from a maid. Utter shock had emboldened him to hastily scribble the note with the book and send Jimin to deliver it to wherever Dulce slept and now his interactions with her were done and he would never look her in the eye again. Which meant avoiding any of the places they might ever run into each other, including but not limited to: the kitchen where she went for food, the yard where she sometimes passed by, any of the hallways near Nasimiyu’s room, and possibly the queen’s garden where she seemed to appreciate the flowers. He wondered if Nasimiyu would be willing to come to his room from now on… assuming this hadn’t just rendered him impotent for life.

Honestly wandering into a bullet’s path in the caves seemed like not the worst way to go right now.

Because in truth Seokjin also knew he could not avoid Dulce forever, particularly if she remained Nasimiyu’s maid. 

He felt like he’d assaulted Dulce. His note wasn’t enough. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d never been in the wrong in this way towards a woman before! And she might be around any corner in this palace, ready to turn to look right through him with those dark eyes that looked so warm behind a mug of hot chocolate. The whole thing was ghastly. How his father had allegedly carried on orgies in the dining hall was beyond Seokjin. Would it have been less devastating if it was someone else? He decided not to answer that, even to himself.

“Is Nasimiyu really going?” Seokjin asked Jimin over his shoulder. “Who’s she taking with her?” The question probably said too much but Jimin was sworn to loyalty and wouldn’t rat him out, even if he figured out the question behind Seokjin’s question. Which he probably did, seeing as Seokjin had told him what happened and had him deliver the book.

“She is, Sir, and expects you are too. She’s not taking any of her maids.”

That was good enough for Seokjin. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Seokjin said to Drin.

“What now, really?”

“I’ll go change.” 

“No, you’re off to hide. You’re dressed fine, just take your jacket off. A fight doesn’t always wait for the prince go get changed into clothes he doesn’t mind bloodying!” Drin barked, and clapped Seokjin on the shoulder. He seemed shockingly sober, likely a result of Uncle Dong-suk’s arrival. The two had served together when they were younger, as peers. But Dong-suk was royal and rose to commander and Drin shattered his arm and decided to train the prince instead of remain on the battlefield. Dong-suk was of the mindset you should die on the battlefield instead of “give in to disability,” which Seokjin thought was rich to say when you had no such injury. As if being the private arms tutor to the prince was a mark of weakness!

“Why are you so eager?” Seokjin demanded, already regretting it. “We aren’t fighting, we’re hunting.”

“Is it different?” Drin cryptically asked and strode ahead, trusting Seokjin to follow to the courtyard where the hunting party gathered. 

“Did you really think you could avoid the hunt?” Jungkook asked, sidling up to Seokjin’s elbow as the prince dragged his feet but followed his trainer. Seokjin gave him a look, because obviously yes, he did and would have, even if it meant lying to his father and uncle that he was shitting his brains out. But also no, he had known he couldn’t, because Nasimiyu was going and he couldn’t leave her to hunt alone. Why had she decided to go?! It was that bit of information from Jimin that had dragged Seokjin from his hiding place. 

She sat atop her horse with only two of her guards at hand. Taehyung wasn’t far off, a horse lead in each hand, though he looked confused. Seokjin assumed it was concern over whether Seokjin would show and went right to him, hairs on the back of his neck prickling as his father and uncle no doubt noted his late arrival.

“I’m to go with you,” Taehyung said quietly.

“You? Why, you’re a stable boy,” Seokjin scoffed for any who might hear.

“I don’t know, your uncle said so.”

Seokjin glanced over at the two elder Kim men now. Uncle Dong-suk didn’t hide that he was watching. 

“Do you think he–” Taehyung broke off and looked away, poorly hiding his nerves.

Seokjin slapped a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and announced loudly, “Congratulations on winning the honor of joining us on the hunt! Every month we’ll take along someone new from the household staff so that you may all experience the wonder and prestige of spending a day skulking around in the dark, looking for things to kill that aren’t even good to eat. You’ll ride with me today, aren’t you lucky?”

“So lucky,” Taehyung murmured. “Here’s your horse…” He glanced at the path down to the hunting caves as if considering whether he ought to just set out for Paloma now. Seokjin thought he should. This did seem suspicious, for Dong-suk to take any notice of Taehyung. He had visited Priva a couple times since Seokjin brought Taehyung to live here and never even looked at the stablehand, but Seokjin had always assumed his uncle knew and didn’t give a shit, as he didn’t have a direct descendent in line for the throne anyway. Nothing changed for Dong-suk if it was Seokjin’s ass on the throne someday or Taehyung’s.

But this was a change. Either he hadn’t know before and now did, or he was trying to make a point that something had changed now, and Seokjin didn’t like it either way. 

“Lady,” he called to Nasimiyu as he mounted his horse, one last prayer of bailing. “Are you well today?”

Nasimiyu’s brow knit as she demanded, clearly offended, “I am, why do you ask?”

“Are you sure this is how you want to spend a day? We might do… anything else your heart desires. Literally anything.”

“Oh there are Lord Jothi and Lord Theo, should we ride with them again?” Nasimiyu asked. “I do hope you’re able to catch something this time.”

“I caught your heart last time, can’t imagine what greater prize there exists then–”

“Let’s ride!” Seokjin’s father called as if recognizing his son was still trying to weasel out of this. The two dozen mounts in the courtyard moved as one, Taehyung rushing to swing into his saddle and pulling into line next to Jungkook in Seokjin’s wake.

Conversation with Nasimiyu ran dry during the ride down. She didn’t seem much inclined to talk, giving him the suspicion he’d done something to anger her, but he couldn’t fix it because he didn’t know what. She hadn’t seemed angry at dinner last night. 

“You decided to hunt alone?” he asked as they waited for servants to bring them weapons. 

“I have my guards and you. Who else would I want?” Nasimiyu asked with what he thought might be feigned confusion.

“Last time you brought a couple of maids, didn’t you?”

“Yes and they all begged not to come again.” She said it so casually, Seokjin had no reason not to believe her. With any luck, Dulce was avoiding him the same way, and they would never cross paths again despite living in the same palace.

Yay?

Once in the grand entrance cave, Jungkook pulled his horse close to Seokjin and leaned as near he could to murmur, “It’s going to be impossible to keep an eye on Taehyung and you at the same time.”

Seokjin knew he was right. This was the easiest place in the world to kill someone. He’d always thought how stupid that man who’d tried to assassinate him had been, sending a pig to do it, when one could just do it from a ledge or around a corner and no one would ever catch you. It was a wonder more people weren’t killed here –though he had his suspicions that the dark rumors his great-grandfather had hunted men down here for sport might be very true. He suspected Grandfather had too, though the old bastard had died when Seokjin was young enough to not remember much about him except his ice-cold hands.

“Watch him closer,” Seokjin told Jungkook.

“Than–”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. That’s your order.”

“Ok…” Jungkook said as he leaned back in his saddle. He didn’t look pleased about this but he’d never disobeyed an order before.

“I mean it. Jimin will watch after me,” Seokjin said, turning to his right-hand man.

Jimin let out a guffaw and asked, “Did you just assign me bodyguard status? You must be joking, haha.” He hesitated to accept the gun handed to him by a staff of the hunt before taking it with a look of disgust.

Nasimiyu, having heard some bits of this, asked, “Is there a problem? Why is your butler being a bodyguard?”

“It’s just a joke,” Seokjin assured her. “Are we ready? Let’s get a head start.”

“Don’t we have to wait for your father to–”

“I’m the prince so I’ll do as I please,” he said, full of shallow bravado. “Besides, I don’t want to ride with Theo and Jothi again. They were flirting with you last time.”

Nasimiyu looked surprisingly thrilled as she argued, “No they weren’t… were they? I don’t think so…” 

“Eager to lead the charge, my son?” Dong-gun called, giving his horse a swift kick to catch up before Seokjin’s party made it through the first cave. Dong-suk pulled up beside his elder brother and Seokjin bit back his frustration.

Instead he teased, “Shall we make a competition of it, father?”

“I’d rather watch your technique and see the catch myself,” Dong-suk interjected, which was of course exactly the opposite of what Seokjin wanted. Did his uncle mean to shoot Taehyung himself?! He brought no guards, only the servant assigned to fetch his kills trotting along beside him, looking terrified by his assignment as if he too realized how disposable he was as a witness.

“Well you shall… certainly be in awe…” Seokjin stammered out as Drin too pulled forward.

“A full party, eh? Just like old times,” he beamed at Dong-suk. Dong-suk did not beam back. “He’s made good progress in arms since you were here last but his sharpshooting is second to none. Fantastic aim, that one’s got.”

Dong-gun clapped his hands and pulled his horse ahead, taking an uncontested lead that Seokjin had no choice at the moment but to follow –with every intention of carving Taehyung and Nasimiyu off to get “lost” down a side cave at the first chance.

Dong-gun and Dong-suk weren’t going to make it easy. They led them, practically boxed them in, down the central corridor, right past all the twisty windy smaller paths that would have made it easier to “take a wrong turn.” No one dared rush past them, so they were the first to enter the grand central cavern with its massive forest and craggy peak –not too dissimilar from the cavern he’d explored with Nasimiyu and Dulce and those bratty upstarts last time, so that an average person might think they were the same place. That was the danger with this place, it was a death trap if you didn’t have a good guide. 

Dong-gun and Dong-suk wasted no time along the way shooting anything that moved, no hesitation. Despite his uncle’s constant criticism of Priva and its excesses, he loved the hunt. It was about the only time he saw his uncle smile, just a tight-lipped slant when a deathcry followed the crack of his rifle. He scowled when Dong-gun would get one first, their array of servants running to and fro in the dark with low lanterns trying to find whatever they’d felled or take the long way round to chase what lay strewn against the far cliffs. 

“They’re going to shoot someone,” Nasimiyu gasped as a goat went stock still in the distance, illuminated by those shimmering blue lights overhead, then collapsed not too far off from a game master who raised his hands in a silent plea not to be shot next.

Seokjin’s father heard her and scoffed, “Never, Princess. You doubt our aim?” 

In one swift motion he’d turned his rifle towards Taehyung on his horse and fired, knocking Taehyung’s hat clean off. A pinch from taking Taehyung’s head with it, most likely.

Taehyung didn’t scream, just tightened his hold on his horse as it took a couple nervous steps.  

Seokjin screamed loud enough for both of them. He shouted, “Ah ya, what’s that!? You take aim at our staff guest? Are you confused, old man? Aim your gun that way!” His heart pounded in his chest, his fear urging him to take flight and trust Taehyung to follow and get away from this place. He’d brought his only living brother into a deathtrap, that’s what he’d just done. Was their own father the threat, not Dong-suk? Seokjin was shocked by what had just happened.

His father laughed and pointed out, “See? Horse or man, Privan stallions are made of stern stuff.”

Nasimiyu’s horror showed on her face and Seokjin was glad his father couldn’t see it, afraid it would only encourage him. 

“Onwards,” Seokjin gritted out and pulled his horse forward, nudging Taehyung to ride beside him, against the wall. 

Seokjin fucking hated it here.

It wasn’t long before Nasimiyu nudged her horse up beside him, forcing Taehyung to fall back, which was probably for the best anyway. 

“Shoot something,” she hissed at him.

“What?”

“We’re here to hunt, so hunt, or they’re going to be shooting at you next,” she whispered harshly. “The whole thing is a test, isn’t it? Your uncle is watching you so do something!”

Seokjin didn’t know how to explain a lifetime of misery and fear of his uncle to her. He didn’t think she’d be impressed anyway. What was he going to tell her, that anything more intelligent than a fish he found nauseating to kill? It wasn’t like they were killing to eat out of necessity down here. The game alway tasted like rocks. 

He was glad she realized there were politics going on but disappointed she wanted him to play into them, even though he recognized she was probably right. 

Drin was right that his aim was good; if he aimed true, he could fell something quickly, appease his father and uncle, impress his bride-to-be, and maybe protect Taehyung in case that had been meant as some kind of weird show of power. 

“Very well,” he murmured. “Yes, it’s about time I show off my marksmanship.” He took his time loading his gun as their horses dawdled after the others. He looked around for something inoffensive to murder, but the blue lights gave everything the same unearthly glow and made it hard to distinguish a mouse from a monkey in the trees. He looked at the ridge instead, and in doing so noted a something-or-other silhouetted against the stream trickling through the center of this stretch of cavern. 

“Perfect shot, I should think,” Dong-suk mused from ahead, his horse blocking the path for everyone. His gaze tore into Seokjin, digging in deep, finding him lacking as always.

Seokjin raised his gun and aimed. It didn’t matter what it was at this point, he didn’t have a way out without further ridicule. His brother’s life might be in danger. He had to pull the trigger.

He hesitated.

A crack erupted, bouncing around them, echoing in Seokjin’s ears. The black lump slipped from the tree branch. Seokjin wanted to do the same from his horse but remained frozen.

“Fantastic shot, my son!” Dong-gun cheered. “Go fetch it, whatever it was. An owl?”

“I hope not…” Seokjin joked vaguely, and resisted looking except out of his periphery at Taehyung shoving the smoking barrel of his gun out of view under the pretense he was looking down the barrel still trying to find something to shoot.

“That was a great shot, Your Highness,” he called over his shoulder to Seokjin.

“Marvelous,” Nasimiyu agreed. She gave him a smirk, leaving him unsure if she had been fooled or not.

“Hm,” his uncle said. Seokjin doubted he was fooled but either way, didn’t say anything.

It was a kestrel. Beautiful. Seokjin hadn’t even actually killed it and still looked away.

They rode on, into a smaller cave called The Aviary thanks to the hundreds of birds that roosted in the trees that grew up and the vines that dangled down and the clear space in between.

“Can’t miss in here,” Dong-gun called back. “Want a go, Princess? I think your rifle’s still cold.”

“Of course!” she called back. “I’ve just been watching to learn the layout of the caves.” Seokjin started to tell her she didn’t have to –he’d take the attention away– but Nasimiyu lifted her rifle and fired once– twice– nothing. She handed it to her servant to reload, hand waving for them to hurry. Seokjin didn’t think she’d aimed at anything and decided she must be firing wide.

Except her next shot connected. Seokjin didn’t see what it was as he had been watching her face, but the cheer went up, he heard the broken cry behind him, and he saw Nasimiyu’s face –shocked, horrified, for only a moment, and then triumphant. Had she had a change of heart or pulled on a mask?

The bird was brought to her, a beautiful yellow-feathered song bird that draped across her hands, a bright messy red spot on its stomach where her bullet had punctured and killed. She stared at it and then at Seokjin, like she wasn’t sure what to do with this.

“What is it?”

“We call them Sun Singers,” Seokjin told her. “They sing every morning when the sun rises but not down here. They can’t see the sun so they never sing.” Do you understand how fucking sad that is? He was afraid she wouldn’t get it. He felt an innate certainty Dulce would.

“My lady, do you wish to have it stuffed?” the servant asked her.

Her face flickered with emotions he couldn’t name as she asked, “Can it not be eaten?”

“No, they only sing, they aren’t good for eating.”

“Take it away,” she said, thrusting it back at the servant. Dong-gun and Dong-suk had both brought down geese and Taehyung a duck. Rifle cracks left and right made Seokjin flinch. And the niggling worry in his stomach that his uncle knew he’d faked the shot earlier. He felt his uncle’s eyes on him even when they weren’t, the man sitting proudly on his horse obnoxiously nearby, in between Drin and Taehyung. Shit, he didn’t want his uncle anywhere near Taehyung!

In a hurry to cause a commotion and separate them, Seokjin raised his rifle. He’d shoot a bird, a duck if he could manage it, and invite his uncle over to inspect the bird and feel his warm rifle for proof he’d shot it, and then growl at Jungkook and Jimin to bookend Taehyung and not leave his side until they got out of this place.

There, a bird perfectly arching into view. Seokjin aimed, calculated, and pulled the trigger.

No one would be able to say whether it was the shot that spooked the horse or not, except that Jungkook would swear the horse jumped before the shot and Seokjin believed him because Privan horses didn’t spook. It was too quick. He was certain there had been nothing even close to his line of firing at the moment he pulled the trigger and yet suddenly there was Drin, nearly taking a bullet through the head.

This time Seokjin didn’t scream, just dropped from his horse and ran over as Drin did the same, slapping at his head like a bee had stung him.

“Damn horse!” Drin shouted. 

Seokjin grabbed his arms but Drin shoved him away in his startle, leaving a bloody handprint on Seokjin’s arm.

I’ve killed him. I’ve fucking killed him.

“Your head’s still on,” Dong-suk called, his voice cutting through the chaos. Seokjin reached for Drin again but Dong-gun took hold of him first and shone a light to the back of Drin’s head where the bullet had grazed but not penetrated. A red line across his scalp wept blood.

“I… I’m sorry…” Seokjin stammered, stumbling backwards.

Suddenly Drin laughed and gestured at Dong-suk, “That’s right, old man. I told you he’s got a good aim, eh? Bends bullets in mid-flight. Could have blown my head off thanks to that damn horse startling!”

But it didn’t make sense. Seokjin was too horrified to figure out what would. All he knew was that he’d almost killed his arms master, one of his friends. He didn’t know how he would have dealt with that. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Drin planted a shaking hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and laughed, “Good one, Sir. Think I’ll head back and get my rock stitched up now, no more hunting competition from me today!”

“I’ll go back with you,” Seokjin insisted.

“Nah, don’t bother. Still need to get your duck for dinner like you vowed!”

A crack over their heads echoed, followed shortly by the thump of a carcass hitting the path not far off. Taehyung lowered his smoking gun.

“I saved you the trouble, Your Highness,” Taehyung said to Seokjin, his brow lowered and serious. “There’s a duck for you.”

Uncle Dong-suk slid from the horse himself to pick it up and mused, “Nice shot, boy.”

“Great. That’s the end of the day for me. Nasimiyu, will you accompany me back to the palace as well? You come too, my horse will only settle for you,” Seokjin rattled off, calling his people to him, prepared for his father and uncle to protest his rapid departure. But terror strengthened his blood to iron and he would have shouted down his own father to get out of there

He’d almost killed Drin.

By the time he was in his saddle, Dong-gun and Dong-suk were laughing at these “children with their brief stamina” and venturing further into the cave. 

“I’ll lead us out,” he said. “Drin, are you able to stay horsed?”

“It’s not that bloody bad, nothing a stiff drink won’t pull me through,” the man insisted, sounding more like himself as he fished a flask out of his saddlebag. He needed help getting back into his saddle after the servants finished tying the makeshift bandage around his head, but once there seemed stable enough. 

“Do you know the way out?” Nasimiyu asked. She’d been quiet for a while. Seokjin had forgotten all about her, to be honest. What would she make of this? But it almost seemed like she’d missed it all; she kept glancing at the game bag attached to her saddle. She reached out and pushed the golden feathers peeking out deeper into the sack.

“I do,” Seokjin said simply and pulled his horse ahead.

It wasn’t until they were safely in the sunny courtyard, Drin off to the hands of the palace doctors, that Jungkook came right to Seokjin’s side and said quietly, “The horse jumped before the gunshot.”

“I almost killed him,” Seokjin rushed out, grabbing Jungkook’s arm. He felt less steady now than he had in the cave.

“It wouldn’t have been your fault. I’m telling you, the horse jumped at nothing.”

“I don’t think it was nothing,” Taehyung argued. “But whatever he did, I couldn’t see it clearly.”

“Who?” Seokjin asked even though he already knew the answer.

“Your uncle. Had to be him, but I couldn’t see it…”

“There were other servants around and it was dark,” Jimin pointed out. “Could have been someone else.”

“Why would anyone else give Drin’s horse a kick? Everyone around here likes Drin,” Jungkook argued.

It was Taehyung who swallowed and suggested, “Maybe they didn’t mean to kick his horse. Maybe it was supposed to be mine.”

The suggestion made Seokjin feel even clammier than he already did. As bad as it would have been to kill his swordsmaster, to kill Taehyung would be worse. He wasn’t sure he could live with it. He didn’t even want to kill a duck.

Seokjin didn’t know what to do about any of this. He didn’t want Taehyung to go, but clearly he wasn’t safe right now. If Dong-suk wanted him dead, nowhere would be safe though.

“Jungkook, stay with Taehyung. I’m going to my room so I don’t need a guard. Taehyung you should… pack.”

Taehyung’s face shifted quickly into complaint, as if he hadn’t just faced his own death once or possibly twice. 

“But I can’t leave yet.”

“Or die? You have to go if I have to wrap you in a carpet and toss you on a ship myself.” He paused, watching Nasimiyu speaking to the servant near her own horse, gesturing with disdain at the game bag the servant kept trying to press on her. 

Taehyung stomped off without further comment but clearly pissed. As if Seokjin wanted him to go! He couldn’t put into words how much he wanted Taehyung to stay here. He’d never been good at expressing brotherly devotion of any sort, and Seok-ho was the brother he’d been with for most of his life, but Taehyung must know that Seokjin cared very much for him! They would always be brothers, even if they couldn’t be in the same city, at least for now. 

Nasimiyu was gone. Seokjin was glad. He didn’t feel like facing her right now either. He wished he could just disappear. Even his bedroom wasn’t far remote enough, but it’s the only place he had, and so he went.

Nasimiyu bit back her sigh when the summons from Lady Zselyke came. The summons. Obviously it wasn’t worded quite as such but the intention was clear, and for now she had to endure it because until she actually wed Seokjin, the two of them were in an odd inversion of their proper roles. Lady Zselyke was the only female member of the Kim family, and older, and clearly extending her hand in an attempt to be some sort of mentor.

Annoying.

Nasimiyu had begged off the last invitation(s), and planned to do so again, claiming exhaustion from the hunt that morning. A week wouldn’t have been enough time to recover from all that and it had only been a few hours.

But the invitation had included a warning that the party was at risk, and anyway what else was she going to do, pace her room and try to get that dead bird out of her mind? How stupid to be bothered by a dead bird. Not that she thought the bird was the worst part of it, but that was the ghost her mind chose to haunt her with in every still moment right now, rather than the almost two deaths she had witnessed, one at her own fiance’s hand and the other by her father-in-law’s atrocious bravado.

So she went. Lady Zselyke wanted to discuss some of the details of the wedding party –unavoidable. The wedding itself was being carefully managed by the planner, but the party afterwards was supposed to be planned by Nasimiyu as a first show of her critically important role… as the royal party planner.

Annoying.

Nasimiyu put herself into a dress that already had a tricky seam on the verge of ripping, intentionally, so she could do so after an acceptable period of time and excuse herself to have it fixed. That was something Dulce had taught her early on –Nasimiyu could recall it in vivid detail: shortly after they’d finished fucking, Dulce had gone to get her trousers and a heavy ball had fallen out of her pocket and emitted a horrible stench that drove them both coughing from the room. A literal stink bomb. Laughing, Dulce had explained one should always plan an exit, though it was regrettable, she had not intended to use it with Nasimiyu. At least not that day.

Always plan your exit.

Even from an romantic entanglement?, Nasimiyu had teased.

Always.

Nasimiyu frowned at the maid who stepped ahead to open the door of Lady Zselyke’s parlor. Babs. She had Babs, hated that name, hated how overly eager the woman was to do the things Nasimiyu wanted ahead of her even asking. She didn’t like maids who acted like she was a cruel or unfair mistress when she really tried not to be unreasonable. She tried to treat them kindly. For example, when they had all looked horrified about who she would take on the hunt with her since it wasn’t going to be Dulce, she’d decided to take none of them. Kindness! It wasn’t like she wanted to be there either, but she needed the respect of the king and that nightmare military brother of his. 

Anyway she had strongly believed Seokjin would beg off anyway and then she would decline the invitation without him… but he’d bloody gone! And shot nothing and nearly killed someone. What sort of man took credit for a stablehand’s shot? Not that she was going to point that out in the moment.

ANNOYING.

Nasimiyu sat across from Lady Zselyke in the elegant, tastefully decorated parlor. So much of the palace was ostentatious but these rooms were slightly less so.

“Did you decorate in here?” Nasimiyu asked when Lady Zselyke had said nothing, only watched with her hands folded, clearly waiting for something.

“I did.”

“Did you decorate the rest of the palace?”

Lady Zselyke’s lips gave a tight tremble before she answered, “Some… it’s largely set by the late Queen’s tastes and the King’s though, and the King requires me to uphold it.”

“That’s a shame. You have lovely taste,” Nasimiyu said. Then, realizing it would be easy to read an insult to her royal in-laws from what she’d said, she appended, “I just mean–”

“You don’t have to excuse flattery towards me. I appreciate a discerning eye. The Queen had other interests. The King has other talents.” She said it in such a coy way that Nasimiyu wanted to recoil from; it sounded sexual. As far as she knew, there was no sex between these cousins, but the gutcheck made her tread a bit more cautiously. She wondered what Dulce would make of that idea…

“Well soon it will be yours to redecorate the palace as you like,” Lady Zselyke mused, looking around her room as though trying to picture it with Nasimiyu’s style. “Will you make it look very different, do you think?”

“Do you mean like home? It would take a monumental effort to make this Privan palace look Marvonese.”

“You will have all the money and workers you could hope for at your disposal. You could make this palace look exactly like… there.” The word sounded loaded, like a single syllable conveyed all Lady Zselyke had to say about Marvonese style. In short, she didn’t like it.

Nasimiyu felt insulted and said archly, “It ought to reflect the convergence of mine and Seokjin’s styles, don’t you think? Where is it you spent your childhood, Lady Zselyke? I don’t think it was here, was it?”

“Sartia.”

“Is that what this style is? I’ve never been to Sartia.”

“I don’t think it would be to your liking, since you don’t like the sea.”

Nasimiyu found it interesting Zselyke knew that about her. She had certainly never admitted that to anyone except Dulce. It made her wonder if Dulce and Zselyke had gotten close. She certainly didn’t know everything Dulce had gotten up to. She couldn’t be trusted after all; maybe she was fucking the king’s cousin to get information, who even knew with that girl anymore?

“Sugar?” Lady Zselyke offered

“No, thank you. The tea here is already so sweet,” Nasimiyu quickly intervened, reaching for the tea cup Lady Zselyke had poured. 

“You don’t like sweet things?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“The world runs on sweet things,” Lady Zselyke said, which Nasimiyu didn’t even pretend to understand. Her face must have shown it, because Zselyke clarified, “Any party must have sweet things. The nobles here prefer them. If you mean not to have sweets…”

Nasimiyu’s nose crinkled before she decided, “Why don’t you just choose the sweets for the wedding party then. That’s what we’re here to talk about, right?”

“Yes, we need to, I’m afraid we’re woefully behind schedule, especially if you have any grand ambitions.”

“I really don’t.”

“You should.”

“I’ll be honest, Lady Zselyke, I love attending parties, but I do not love planning them,” Nasimiyu said because she might as well be upfront about it.

Lady Zselyke looked aghast and argued, “You must learn to love it then, because it will be the most important thing you do as queen.”

“I hope that’s not true.”

“The delicate balance of maintaining power by managing the nobles– do you think Seokjin will do that?!” Zselyke screeched at her.

“He’s… charming, isn’t it?” Nasimiyu tried. She had not expected this cousin to shout at her and it caught her off-guard.

“Charming my left foot!” In her anger, she yanked up the teapot and refilled Nasimiyu’s empty cup and seemed to have forgotten Nasimiyu didn’t like sugar because she spooned some right in as she continued to berate, “Do you mean to say you won’t learn these skills and plan to let the social structure of the palace just die? The nobles here expect a certain schedule of entertainment! When important guests arrive from other places, they must be tended to! They–”

“It’s not that I don’t recognize how important it is,” Nasimiyu assured her, lifting her cup. Her own mother had certainly never yelled like this and she didn’t know what to do about it. It ought to fill her with rage but she was genuinely just stupefied. “I just don’t…”

“Like it?!

“Well no, not the planning part. I don’t have any talent for it and you do. Do you like doing it?”

“It is one of the most sacred tasks I’ve had since coming to the palace after the late Queen passed. Her taste in decor may have been questionable but she threw marvelous parties and I knew I needed to carefully maintain that so that her death wouldn’t pitch the nobility and thus the country into absolute chaos.”

“Well if you like it and you’re good at it, why don’t you keep doing it?” 

Lady Zselyke’s brow knitted as she explained, “Because I will not be here.”

“Why not?” Nasimiyu set the tea cup down without sipping it, intending to ask for a new one without sugar.

“Because… because you will be queen and not want an older woman here interfering with your work…” Lady Zselyke had stopped yelling and suddenly looked uncertain. “You did not know I would be sent away?”

“Who would send you away? Not I.” Nasimiyu did her best to look sincere about it. Honestly she had no love for this stuffy older woman but it hadn’t occurred to her that Zselyke would be gone. She saw at once how dismal it would be to take on the things Zselyke already managed. Dreary enough that enduring her was likely worth it. Besides, she managed Dong-gun and Seokjin to a degree, and even Dong-suk. She knew a great deal. Maybe it was at least worth keeping her around until they were gone. Nasimiyu couldn’t see Zselyke supporting her as queen if the Kim men were dead, and she might not want that, but… she might. Zselyke might do it, if she didn’t think Nasimiyu had any hands in the deaths. Regardless of her personal feelings about Zselyke, she knew things, she seemed actually quite good at what she did. That could be useful.

Lady Zselyke was watching her with unmasked confusion now and clarified, “You would not make me leave? Queen Soon-hee did the moment she married Dong-gun.”

“Why?”

“Well, that… that’s not something I can know…” she instantly fumbled out, clearly hiding some truth or at least suspicion. “It’s tradition, though. A queen mother will be sent to retire in Sartia and I am almost like a queen mother.” As soon as she said it, she looked like she regretted it. 

Nasimiyu grinned. She felt like she had just found a very pretty knife.

“I think you are too,” she agreed. “In a good way. I can’t imagine running this palace without you, it never occurred to me I would need to. I don’t want to. I refuse.”

Zselyke’s light skin turned a fascinating shade of pink, like she’d sat in the sun too long.

“Oh! But…”

“Maybe if the King retires at some point to someplace nice like Sartia, you would want to go with him, but I expect he will remain on the throne for a long time even once Seokjin and I marry.”

“Yes, you won’t be queen but you’ll be the crown princess which is the same thing in the absence of a queen,” Zselyke countered. 

“I don’t think tradition should dictate what we do when it’s not… convenient. I don’t see why you should be sent away or robbed of the duties you enjoy just because I’m here.” She mindlessly picked up the teacup again. “I can easily see a world where you maintain your status here and oversee the things you care so much about and are recognized and appreciated for it, which frees me up to attend to the things I care about –like supporting Seokjin, for instance. Raising his children.” She suspected Zselyke would struggle to accept an ambitious political princess just yet.

“He does need a great deal of support,” Lady Zselyke said slowly. “The kingly duties don’t come naturally to him…”

Nasimiyu smiled and nodded, agreeing, “He can learn with a wife nudging him along, and King Dong-gun can rest easier seeing his son take his future role more seriously.”

“Two women have never run the palace together before,” Zselyke said. Her words seemed to be poking at Nasimiyu, trying to find a lie or a threat.

“Women in Marvono know how to work together and rely on each other. I very much want to rely on you, Lady Zselyke. I wouldn’t dream of replacing you. Your balls would be a crucial loss to Priva!”

“I…” Lady Zselyke blinked rapidly at her, heavily stained eyelashes leaving residue on the tops of her cheeks. Clearly none of this had occurred to her.

“Together we can keep the Kim line respectable and strong, don’t you think?” Nasimiyu suggested as her finishing move. She lifted her tea cup to take a dramatic sip.

“Oh dear!” Lady Zselyke gasped, lunging forward. “You don’t like sugar! I put sugar in there! Let me trade that for you.” She wrenched the cup out of Nasimiyu’s hand in the blink of an eye and set it hastily on another saucer. “I think eventually you will need to take over these things from me… but maybe not… and in the meantime you can learn from me. It doesn’t seem you’ve been trained in any of these types of things. Things must be done very differently in Marvono…” She sloshed a little tea out of the cup in her haste to pour Nasimiyu a new one.

The door flung open before Nasimiyu could respond and in strode Mindeulle. Nasimiyu did not miss the way Lady Zselyke’s face hardened, despite Mindeulle’s bright smile and polite curtsy.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but I’ve been looking for the Princess. Might I have a word?”

“Why don’t you join us?” Lady Zselyke offered instead. “We need to discuss wedding plans and then you can have her.”

“It will only take me a moment.”

“It can wait, I’m sure. Have a seat.” There was an edge to Lady Zselyke’s words that got Mindeulle to promptly do so. “Sugar?”

“No thank you,” Mindeulle muttered as Lady Zselyke poured her a cup. Servants fluttered in at a snap of her finger to refill the pot, which was getting low. Flowers and leaves danced inside the glass pot, briefly mesmerizing Nasimiyu.

“We are discussing Nasimiyu’s elaborate wedding party and what will best capture the deep love she and Seokjin share.”

Do we? was on the tip of Nasimiyu’s tongue. She didn’t say it, but Mindeulle gave her an amused smile as if she had, which gave her a start.

“I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” Mindeulle said.

“The wedding of a century,” Zselyke agreed. Nasimiyu did not understand why Zselyke sounded so defensive about it, unless this was just her enthusiasm about remaining here as a royal party planner showing through. “Seokjin has told me to spare no expense, he wants the world to understand how deep his love and devotion to his bride are.”

“That’s lovely,” Mindeulle said.

“It is,” Zselyke agreed.

The fact they hated each other seemed very obvious to Nasimiyu and now it was her turn to smile. If they both remained in the palace with her after she married, that would be perfect. The two of them hating each other would make them eager to be her most trusted and relied upon, and she could trust they would never join forces to work against her.

It amused her to watch them politely bicker as more details of the party were discussed; Mindeulle seemed just as eager for it to be perfect and her own suggestions seemed to rile Lady Zselyke into even grander plans. Nasimiyu would have been happy to eat her olive and thyme biscuits and let them have at it and giggle through whatever resulting wedding party they planned but the door opened again and in came Lidmila.

“It’s a regular party isn’t it? I didn’t plan for this,” Lady Zselyke murmured as Lidmila curtsied and sat in the final chair at the table without being asked.

“I apologize for my unexpected arrival. My parents are here but I wanted to find the Princess for company instead. Is it all right if I join?”

“Yes yes of course. What business do your parents have here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Something with the tax collector or the city planner?”

“That seems like business for your father, not your mother,” Lady Zselyke said. 

“Sometimes my mother helps with those things, I think…”

Lady Zselyke shook her head at this and sighed, “It’s quite a business, being a wife.”

“Have you never regretted not marrying?” Mindeulle asked, a twinkle coming to her eye that hooked Nasimiyu’s attention.

“Heavens, no! Of course it’s a high calling to be a wife, however…” Lady Zselyke looked embarrassed by her answer and like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m sure you will all make good little wives. My hands are quite full supporting the King.”

Honestly, did she hear herself? Probably Dulce could find out in an instant what the real relationship was there but Nasimiyu was not sure she wanted to know.

“But what will you do once Nasimiyu is queen?” Mindeulle asked. “You won’t be needed here anymore.”

“Actually I’ve asked Lady Zselyke to stay and support just the way she does now,” Nasimiyu quickly interjected. 

Lady Zselyke gave Mindeulle a smirk and agreed, “Of course I have accepted. Nasimiyu recognizes the value of this work and her own untrained skill for it so it will be an honor.” She dumped a spoonful of sugar in Mindeulle’s drink and poured more black for Nasimiyu. Lidmila had not yet touched the cup on her saucer, Nasimiyu’s discarded sugared tea from earlier, now gone cold.

“Oh, I don’t like sugar in my tea,” Mindeulle said. “May I have a different glass?”

“Dear, I forgot. Well it’s only a little bit of sugar,” Lady Zselyke dismissed. 

“I’m sure we can get a new tea cup,” Nasimiyu laughed. 

“I don’t mind sugar and I didn’t add any to mine. Why don’t we trade, Mindeulle? It’s a little cold though,” Lidmila suggested, passing hers across the table.

“Don’t be silly, that’s a perfect way to get sick.” Zselyke tutted and blocked the pass with her hand, nudging both cups back towards their original owners. Nasimiyu could not make sense of such crazy behavior but thought it was rather funny. Lidmila and Mindeulle seemed briefly mystified and set their cups back in their sauces.

“I’m not very thirsty. I’ll have a cookie instead,” Mindeulle decided. She nudged her tea setting closer to Lady Zselyke to make room for a plate, helping herself to several different pastries from the trays in the center.

“I’ve had enough tea and I can assure you I’m not ill,” Nasimiyu offered, pushing her cup closer to Mindeulle. “I’ve taken no sugar so you can have my cup.”

“Oh, there’s sugar in mine after all,” Lidmila realized, looking into her cup.

“Have you tasted it?” Lady Zselyke asked her, her voice rising so abruptly in pitch it startled them all. She pounded her chest and couch delicately into a napkin. “Did you like the tea? How much did you try?”

“I haven’t yet. Is it very special? Is it better to taste it without sugar then?” Lidmila considered.

Lady Zselyke nodded and reached for the cup, insisting, “Yes, you’ll like it better without. That’s the Princess’ old cup. We’ll get you a fresh cup.”

“I do like sugar and sweet things though, is it bitter? I don’t mind that it’s cold for a first taste so it won’t burn my tongue.”

“Try it without,” Lady Zselyke insisted, snatching the tea cup away from her. She went to set it on her own saucer but paused, hand hovering over hers and Mindeulle’s cups now right next to each other. 

Nasimiyu laughed, “It’s like a game. I’m not sure which is yours anymore, they’re all mixed up. It doesn’t matter though does it? I’m sure we’re all healthy here and close companions can share a tea cup.” She hoped it would encourage a sort of bond between the group to begin forming. Lady Zselyke was older but not old. It would be good to have some close companions who weren’t all younger than herself. She could learn to like Zselyke, probably.

“Oh nonsense, we don’t have to go so far as trading tea cups,” Zselyke immediately intervened. “We need another setting!” she called to the servants with a clap of her hands. “Take these three away,” she commanded. “And bring a fresh bowl of sugar, Miss Lidmila likes her tea sweet.”

Lidmila giggled and pointed to the full sugar bowl, insisting, “I don’t need more than that in my tea!”

“If you like sweet things, I think raw sugar will taste better than this refined stuff,” Lady Zselyke told her. “Minor details matter. A subtle change can have a great impact, it’s an important lesson for young ladies.”

“My brother says the same thing,” Mindeulle chirped.

Lady Zselyke looked down her nose at Mindeulle and insisted, “I don’t think we need to talk about your brother’s words to young ladies. There is more to discuss than men.”

Nasimiyu reached out to grab Mindeulle’s hand, fully expecting her to launch from the table. She did not, just stared at Zselyke so blankly that it felt menacing.

“Like Nasimiyu’s wedding! Oh, but that’s to a man…” Lidmila mused with a thoughtful frown. It was endearing. Nasimiyu found herself chuckling under her breath. Honestly she would have expected to find someone with Lidmila’s innocence obnoxious, but it was actually refreshing to be around someone so sincere and good-intentioned. Nasimiyu wasn’t used to those sorts of people. Lidmila might be one of the only truly good people she had ever met. Simple, but good.

Mindeulle must be on that list too, though the sharpness of her mind as she gradually revealed it made her seem less doe-eyed about the world. She too had that air of enthusiasm as she pressed Lady Zselyke on what else she was thinking of for Nasimiyu’s wedding, and if she intended to plan the honeymoon too. There was an edge to her Nasimiyu liked a lot.

“What do you mean by that? Of course I will, if you’d like me to, Nasimiyu darling.”

“You suggested Sartia before–”

“But you don’t like the sea, so… hm, I will think on it,” Zselyke said.

“You don’t like the sea?” Mindeulle and Lidmila both parroted.

“It’s all right. Maybe I should take Seokjin to Marvono instead…”

“Maybe you’d like Therepin more,” Mindeulle suggested. “It has the elegance and beauty and splendor of Sartia, but no seas.”

Zselyke looked repulsed and gasped, “Therepin is no place for a honeymoon!”

“Why, because you don’t like the government there? I’ve never honeymooned but I don’t think government is very involved…” Mindeulle tittered. Lidmila’s face opened up in surprised laughter and Zselyke seemed angry. “None of us have honeymooned, maybe we should ask someone else to plan it.”

“I am quite capable!” Zselyke scowled. “Less taunting me and more eating, girls, it’s important to keep our strength up until supper.”

“But our figures…” Lidmila pointed out.

Zselyke gave her a gentle smile and assured her, “You have nothing to worry about. And Therepin adheres to no such beauty standards, so Mindeulle’s prospects won’t be upset by some extra padding.”

“Not that I care about my weight, but why would I look for a husband in Therepin?” Mindeulle countered. 

Nasimiyu ate her cookies and felt like this was all rather a lot of fun, watching the back and forth. Dulce would hate this, but she found it amusing.

“I suppose your brother and parents will, regardless.”

“They take into account my wishes. They’ll let me choose the partner I want.”

“Will they?” Zselyke pressed and it seemed so pointed, Nasimiyu could tell she must know something and be taunting Mindeulle with it. She wanted to know too –not to taunt, but just to know. 

“What does that mean?” Nasimiyu intervened as Mindeulle looked troubled. “Do you have a personal tragedy, Mindeulle? You don’t need to say at the table but if you’d like to talk in private– if there’s anything I can do to aid you–”

Mindeulle pressed a hand to her flushed cheek and insisted, “No, Princess, there’s nothing. Lady Zselyke only speaks in riddles to make it sound like she knows more than she does.”

“Didn’t you come here to find a husband? To Priva, I mean?” Lidmila suggested, perhaps in an attempt to help. “There are so many men here who I’m sure would be honored by your attention.”

“I came with my brother,” Mindeulle said simply, even though Nasimiyu vaguely thought she’d heard Mindeulle mention before she wanted to marry here and remain. Hadn’t that been a hope she had for the ball? She couldn’t recall clearly now.

“Well you certainly aren’t going to find a husband spending all your time with your brother and Seokjin,” Lady Zselyke scoffed. “They are related and taken. I suspect your parents will call you home soon for a match.”

“Not if I don’t wish to marry,” Mindeulle countered. “You have never married, Lady Zselyke, and you spoke moments ago about it as a burden. Surely you had your reasons?”

Lady Zselyke filled their tea cups and said airly, “I did. There are many types of love which are worthy of a life’s devotion. Your devotion to the prince is admirable but inappropriate now that he will have a wife.”

“I–!” Mindeulle gasped. She looked quickly to Nasimiyu and insisted, “It’s not that, I promise. He is like a brother to me!”

“I know that,” Nasimiyu assured her. For all she knew, Mindeulle did have a crush on Seokjin, but it failed to trigger any jealousy in Nasimiyu. There didn’t seem to be anything adult about it if it was there, more like childish admiration. She hadn’t witnessed a single ambitious attempt, nor did Seokjin act any way towards her but brotherly. “I’m sure Lady Zselyke didn’t mean to be a gossip,” Nasimiyu admonished, arching her eyebrow at the older woman smirking to herself as she served Mindeulle more tea.

“Oh yes, I meant nothing by it, except that with men, you can never be too careful. You will have to curb your closeness with him so that it doesn’t cause… problems,” Zselyke scolded as she dumped a heaping spoonful of sugar thoughtlessly into Mindeulle’s tea. “I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers. Have some tea and settle down about it, have another pastry.”

“You’ve put sugar in it again,” Nasimiyu said, deftly reaching for Mindeulle’s tea cup and handing over her own. “Mine has none, we can trade.”

“You don’t like sweet things,” Mindeulle said. Nasimiyu found herself surprised each time the people around her knew things about her she had not explicitly told them. It made her feel very special and admired and flattered her into insisting,

“It’s not a hard rule. My lips are plenty puckered by now, some sweet on my tongue may be a relief.” 

“No, the tea is much better without that refined stuff–” Lady Zselyke said, rising from her seat and reaching for Nasimiyu’s cup.

Lidmila suddenly kicked the table hard and cried out, “Ah! My ankle got caught in my skirt and I’ve hit my shin…”

The flurry of commotion was all startling enough that Nasimiyu put her cup down, laughing, “Is there alcohol in the tea? Why is everyone so clumsy suddenly?”

“There is certainly nothing like that in the tea,” Zselyke sniffed. “But if you tire of it, I can bring coffee or wine or juice or–”

“Nothing else, thank you,” Nasimiyu dismissed.

“She’s right that the raw sugar is better though,” Lidmila said, still rubbing her leg beneath the table as she lifted her saucer and passed it over. “Let’s trade.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“You are going to be queen, Nasimiyu, you should let those around you take care of simple things,” Mindeulle insisted. So Nasimiyu was shamed into trading teacups with Lidmila, who looked adorably proud to have made the swap and settled herself with the apparently less-desirable white sugared tea. 

However before she could even have a sip, Lady Zselyke reached for a pastry but her dragging sleeve managed to upset the whole sugar bowl and Lidmila’s tea cup.

“Oh goodness,” Zselyke gasped. “I’ve made a mess of my own tea…” She gave Nasimiyu the kindest smile of their acquaintance so far and laughed, “Maybe the tea did get us all a little drunk! It’s only flowers in there… maybe it’s the talk of weddings going to our heads!”

The table was soaked now though, they’d all logged themselves with unsweetened tea, and the pastries were going stale. Nasimiyu thought everyone seemed relieved when she suggested tea come to a close for now, and promised to meet with Zselyke again the next day to resume their wedding chat, and suggested Lidmila take a turn with her in the garden, and Mindeulle too if she wished.

“I would love to, but I really only need to ask you a question and then return a letter to my parents,” Mindeulle said as the three women left Zselyke’s parlor. 

“That’s right, you said you needed to speak with me.”

“Yes… privately, if that’s all right? It’s about… some private business,” she murmured, glancing at Lidmila. “I hope you understand.”

“Of course. Why don’t I meet you in the garden, Princess? Have your servant bring a parasol though, it looks like it might rain.”

“Don’t you need one too then?”

“Oh… maybe I can share yours? I didn’t bring one…”

“I’m sure we can,” Nasimiyu said, or else she would bring another, or they could find someplace else to walk, it really wasn’t a big deal. Lidmila seemed content with this plan and flitted off, hopefully not to wander out into the rain before Nasimiyu arrived. She was sweet but perhaps not the brightest.

Mindeulle insisted on leading Nasimiyu into a room with a closed door before she admitted, “I’m sorry if I seem so cryptic, but I’m looking into this mystery with my brother and Çiğdem.”

Nasimiyu instantly cringed and suggested gently, “Does your brother know? He may not want you poking into his personal affairs…”

“So you think he did it then?” Mindeulle caught.

“I don’t know but…” Nasimiyu thought of Namjoon fucking Dulce at the masquerade ball. “I don’t know him well enough to say anything regarding his relationships with women but I think we can all move on.”

“We can’t move on. You saw how Lady Zselyke treated me at tea, and she’s not the only one.”

“You think it was because of that? I suppose that comment was rather… barbed.” 

“Lady Zselyke already dislikes me and Namjoon because of the trouble with the Prince’s former fiance… but he has you now, that can be behind us. But this… this wasn’t him either, I’m sure of it! And now the families here want even less to do with us because they think my brother has a habit of leading women on, which he most definitely does not! He’s been framed both times and I intend to figure out who’s doing it.”

“I think you should let it go,” Nasimiyu admitted.

“But we’re being ostracized.”

“Does he care about something like that?”

“No, but… but I do. If society here shuns me I’ll have to go back to Therepin. I want to stay here.”

“I’ll protect you and your reputation, it doesn’t need to be tied to your brother’s.”

“You don’t believe me and won’t help me,” Mindeulle frowned, taking a step away.

“I didn’t say that, I just think…”

“Çiğdem’s family are not kind people. They aren’t the sort of people I want as family enemies. They are going to make you choose and if I can’t prove my brother is innocent, you’ll have to choose them.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“There are politics here you don’t understand yet,” Mindeulle said. When Nasimiyu shifted unhappily, Mindeulle hurried to add, “Only because you are new here and you aren’t used to these families. They are sensitive and vengeful. The only reason they haven’t outright attacked us yet is because it means admitting Çiğdem was writing letters to a man, so they’re trying to figure out something else to pin on us.”

“I’m not interested in their petty accusations–”

“But if you anger them, they will interfere with your marriage,” Mindeulle insisted. “They’re powerful enough to do it.” Mindeulle paused and seemed to think about what she said, then shook her head to clear it. “I need to clear my brother’s name. Please let me at least try.”

Nasimiyu sighed and conceded only, “What help are you asking from me?”

“I need the letters from Çiğdem. So I can compare to my brother’s handwriting and language and prove they aren’t his.” Nasimiyu had to admit that was a good plan.

“What makes you think she still has them?”

Mindeulle looked stunned and nearly laughed, “Why wouldn’t she? Don’t you keep every letter anyone has ever written you?”

“No one has ever written me letters,” Nasimiyu admitted. “Is that strange?”

Mindeulle seemed to think it was very sad.

“Well… I believe she has them,” Mindeulle insisted. “I bet even though she’s angry, she still has them. She might give them to you if you ask.”

“I’m not that close with her.”

“Or if you ask Lidmila to ask for them, even better.”

“I don’t know…

“But Lidmila will do anything you say, she worships the ground you walk on.”

Nasimiyu had to admit that seemed true. So in the end, she agreed to try. 

And as Mindeulle predicted, when Nasimiyu brought the subject up of investigating things herself with Lidmila as they strolled through the warm summer rain under a shared parasol, Lidmila readily vowed to try, too –no, to succeed! It wouldn’t be easy but she would convince Çiğdem to let them see the letters under the guise of Nasimiyu wanting to understand Namjoon’s sins for herself. Lidmila admitted Çiğdem seemed to be having a hard time letting go of it all and probably would be eager to share.

All the moving of social chess pieces left Nasimiyu exhausted by the time Lidmila left with her parents and Nasimiyu could finally flee to solitude. She tossed the parasol to the ground and slipped off her damp shoes as soon as she was through the door. She’d take a bath to get that humid sea-city slime off her skin, she decided, and called for the maids to draw the bath.

As she moved around her room undressing, trying not to notice how quiet it seemed in here lately without Dulce emerging from the shadows to slide into the bed or bath with her, she began to notice things. Little things, small things that someone without her eye for detail might not: her gowns twisted in the wardrobe in a way she nor the maids would ever leave them; her shoes lined up too perfectly when she only ever lazily kicked them off; the papers on the wrong side of the desk from where Dulce had sat writing a coded message to send to Prince Hamisi (Nasimiyu sure hadn’t touched them since then), obvious because Dulce was left handed and scratched things out hunched over the right corner of the desk like someone who’d barely learned to hold a pen.

Had someone been here? 

She didn’t like that feeling. It didn’t just scare her, it angered her, this idea that someone had come into her room –somehow, despite the guards posted outside. She looked around herself, trying to determine what someone had been looking for, what they might have found, though there weren’t secret things to find. The letters from her mother were nothing but that, nothing notable in them. She didn’t think any of her jewelry was missing, at least none of her favorites. What else would they have taken?

“Did you girls clean in here today?” she asked as she shed her clothing for a bath. The two maids looked at each other, uncertain how to answer. “If someone did, they didn’t do a very good job. My gowns are tangled up in the wardrobe.”

“We’re sorry, Princess,” they quickly said. “We’ll fix it right away.”

Well, mystery solved then. Nasimiyu sank into the bath and washed it all away. 

The palace was stifling.

Seokjin had almost killed a man.

Taehyung had almost been killed too.

He had to get out of here. Hiding in his room with the comfort of his fur babies wasn’t enough, but Jungkook wasn’t on duty so Seokjin couldn’t pull off his disguised anonymous jaunt into the city. It would be too much for him right now anyway. He needed to be alone but not alone… he didn’t have a solution for that.

Muhtar followed him at a bothersome distance, not quite far enough, as he set out for the sea wall. The sun was setting, drawing some touristy crowds to admire the vibrant hues brushed across the cloudy sky, but for the most part the people of Priva did not find a regular sunset anything remarkable. They saw this every day. They had other things to do.

Seokjin, however, still found it remarkable. He hoped the day never came that he forgot about the miracle of a sunset, how the air itself became orange and red and that honey warmth seeped into your skin. He paused once a respectable distance from the palace to take it in.

And then saw her.

He should keep walking, he knew immediately. He had no reason to approach. She sat there, legs dangling recklessly over the edge, face cast towards the sun and a hood on so that he shouldn’t have even recognized her. He could not have explained how he did. And he’d been avoiding her for days now! Muhtar was with him; he didn’t trust any of his bodyguards to keep his secrets the way he trusted Jungkook, and sitting to enjoy the sunset with the maid of his fiance was one of those things that deserved to be a secret. The last time he’d seen her, he was fucking said fiance. The last time he’d spoken to her, she’d been furious. 

He should keep walking.

He fully intended to keep walking.

He eased himself down on the ledge beside her, careful not to lose his step and plummet to his death because that would just really be the icing on this shit-cake day.

She didn’t even glance at him, as if not surprised at all. Maybe she’d somehow sensed him standing behind him. She so rarely seemed surprised by anything.

She had looked surprised when she walked in on him and Nasimiyu.

“About what you saw…”

“I didn’t see anything,” she said, voice a low murmur weaving through the aggressive crash of waves against the rocks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

So it would be like that. Yes, that was for the best.

“I only see the sunset,” she told him.

“It’s a good one.”

They sat in silence for a while. Gradually Seokjin’s mortification settled into a dull hum in the back of his mind, beat away by the waves. That experience seemed fake. Nasimiyu seemed fake, his engagement seemed fake. Certainly less real than the hues streaking the wispy clouds dawdling over their heads.

“What’s your favorite color in the sunset?” he asked. She didn’t look at him, but he could see enough of her profile to watch her brow pinch. 

Why, why was he so desperate to reach out and smooth it down?! She was just some woman. It didn’t make sense. He barely knew her at all, as she had made crystal clear. Why was it so easy to think of a thousand things he wanted to say to her, and equally easy, for once in his life, to say none of them and simply sit there watching the sunset?

“Pink,” she finally said. He’d forgotten the question and gave her a confused look. “I don’t seem like the kind of woman who likes pink?”

“I like that it makes my hair look pink,” he told her. “I think I’d look really good with pink hair.”

“Your hair doesn’t look pink.”

“A little bit.”

“Not at all,” she insisted, so seriously as she looked at it that he couldn’t help the laughter. 

It died quickly as he noticed the bruise on her cheek, the bandage on the side of her neck.

“What happened to you?” he asked, quickly turning towards her, reaching only to hover because he had no right to touch her.

“Hm?”

“You’re injured!”

“Oh. Accident in the laundry room,” she said, lifting a hand to her cheek like she’d forgotten all about it. He thought he saw the shadow of another bruise on her jaw and resisted the urge to turn her face and confirm.

“What the hells happened in the laundry room?!”

“Everything is fine. How was the hunting trip?”

He didn’t answer, torn now between the dread of what had already happened and a desire to not be shaken off from her injuries. He wasn’t sure she was telling him the truth. He hadn’t heard of an accident in the laundry that had caused serious harm to a maid. If there were safety issues, they needed to be taken care of immediately! 

“What happened in the laundry room?” he tried again.

“How was the hunting trip?”

He narrowed his eyes. She stared a moment, then turned her gaze out at the sunset in a way that made clear she would not be answering his question. 

“You know,” he shrugged. “It was… unpleasant. It’s good you didn’t go along today.”

“Might have been better than the laundry room.”

“No.” He thought of Dulce witnessing what had happened. Or, worse, Dulce being involved with what had happened. He didn’t say anything more, uncomfortable with imagining it. A horrible thought came to him, of his uncle somehow figuring out that Dulce was… notable to him. She’d be in grave danger, he was sure of it. A princess had some protection from a sadistic uncle-in-law. A maid had none. He glanced back at Murtah, worried his own bodyguard might report this to his uncle. Could anyone be trusted? Murtah was older, kind, formal, serious. He looked up and down the seawall, always on alert. 

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go hunting down there,” Dulce said, a rush of words he hadn’t expected. He raised his eyebrows at her unexpected concern. “It’s too easy for an accident to happen. It feels like it was designed for accidents.”

“Nowhere is safe from accidents. Apparently not even laundry rooms.”

“Your joke makes it clear you’ve never been in one,” she muttered.

He had to admit, “No. Are they dangerous?”

“Yes. But a hunting party in the caves is particularly dangerous for you, I think. You’re the crown prince. You’re never safe.”

“I have a bodyguard,” he said, jerking his head towards Murtah.

“He doesn’t look very good.”

“He is.”

“He’s not even listening to our conversation to know I insulted him.”

“He’s discreet,” Seokjin argued. “He’s like you, he’s not reactive.” Dulce scrutinized the bodyguard like a duel partner, then looked back out at the water. The wind tangled in loose strands of her long hair and danced it around her face. He wondered how wild it would look if she let the hood down and her braid out. It seemed to want to curl around her neck; a perfect ringlet had formed and he had that intrusive urge to reach out and tug it. The hood made her look particularly beautiful. 

Brooding. He’d meant she looked particularly brooding.

He felt so calm right now. It was strange, he’d come out here hoping to feel that way but not expecting too. The nervous energy that had kept him restless all day got washed out to sea with each tug of the tide below. It was almost embarrassing for Dulce to see him all calm. He had an image to uphold, after all. Funny, energetic, charming.

He was tired.

“Have you ever been fishing? What’s your favorite fish?” he asked, deciding to make an effort.

“Are you ever just silent– nevermind,” she said quickly. Then, “My apologies, sorry.” He wasn’t sure that she’d ever apologized for being blunt before and was surprised to see her cheeks darken with a flush.

“What?” he laughed. “Say what you were going to say. Am I ever just silent? Not really, even when I’m alone I talk to myself.” Her lips tightened. “What does that face mean?” he laughed. 

“It’s just my face.”

“No it’s not. Are you… blushing? About what?”

“I am not,” she snapped, scowling at him, and in any other lifetime he would have grabbed and kissed her right then. He couldn’t explain it. She was so put out with him.

You want to kiss her. You need to get and stay away from her. He knew that was true. He understood this clearly in a way he had danced around for days now. Weeks? He didn’t know how long but he knew he wanted to kiss the bruise on her cheek and the one on her jaw and her fingers and that this feeling of his would get her fired at best. He couldn’t think of the worst.

“You’re quiet when you fuck, that’s what I meant,” she suddenly said, tearing her gaze away from his and crossing her arms. “Maybe that’s the only time.”

“I thought you didn’t see anything,” he cried, now his turn to blush a bright red. Here he was contemplating the tragedy of this woman bringing out the romantic in him when nothing could ever come of it and then she had to wallop him in the face like that.

“I didn’t hear anything either, that’s my point.”

Now silence enveloped them again, a less happy one. Seokjin didn’t know what to say. The thought of having sex with Nasimiyu made him want to run away screaming. Not a great foundation for a marriage but one he was going to have to work through, just like he was going to have to keep distance from Dulce, and neither thing seemed possible right now. 

No, he could do it. He would. He was the crown prince, he did tons of things he didn’t want to simply because it was his duty.

He wanted more than a duty marriage with Nasimiyu.

He needed to squash these feelings about Dulce immediately.

“I didn’t mean to criticize,” she murmured, glancing nervously at him. Probably because he was staring. She had a very pretty profile. He bet she would hate it if someone pinched her chin but it was perfectly pinchable. “Nasimiyu speaks… highly of your time together.”

He grabbed for the lifeline she’d thrown him and laughed awkwardly loudly, “Oh, lovely. She speaks of it?”

“Brags, more like.”

He knew he should be flattered. A small part of him was. 

“Yes, well, good. What can I say? I have many talents and pleasing women is one of them.” Dear gods what was he saying?

“I don’t need to hear that. When I said you don’t know me, I didn’t mean we should get to know each other,” she said. 

He laughed, flat out laughed, “Dulce, why are you so mean?”

“I… sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah for me too but I’m still my pleasant charming self. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. I almost watched my father kill another of my friends. It was the shittiest hunting trip you can imagine.”

“Did you shoot anything?”

“I almost killed another of my friends, does that count?”

“Taehyung?”

“No… what made you think of him?” She shrugged. “No, Master Drin, my arms masters. His horse reared and threw him in the path of bullet right as I aimed at some mysterious creature in the woods that didn’t deserve to be shot at in the first place. Sliced the back of his head open but he lives.” The words poured out, a tirade meant to make her laugh even though it wasn’t funny and he didn’t even mean it to be funny. His laugh cracked as he repeated, “I almost killed someone today.”

“People die.”

“Come now.”

“People die in hunting accidents all the time,” she said again. “That’s what I meant by you shouldn’t go.”

He grinned and nudged her arm without thinking about it, teasing, “Are you worried about me?” She stiffened and he immediately leaned away. Oops. 

She didn’t comment on the physical contact, just asked, “Have you never killed anything before?”

“I’ve shot ducks.”

“A dark stain on your soul.”

“I see their eyes every night before I sleep,” he joked. “I remember their names.”

“I don’t,” she said thoughtfully. 

“Killed a lot of ducks, have you?” 

“A few.” She said it so seriously, he couldn’t decide if she was joking or not. That made things she said even funnier, when he genuinely couldn’t tell. He had an inkling she did it on purpose. He wondered if Nasimiyu knew that about her.

“We’re still talking about ducks, aren’t we?” he teased.

“What would we be talking about?”

“Didn’t you grow up on a farm? I don’t think I have the guts for it.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” Dulce said sharply and Seokjin felt a ridiculous victory at very clearly having guessed something correctly about her. “I seem like a farm girl to you?”

“Is there anything besides farms in Paloma?” Her eyebrows raised and he snickered, “Oh no, did I just insult you?”

“You don’t know anything about Paloma.”

“No but I know you grew up on a farm.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your reaction gave it away.”

“I don’t react,” she insisted and he felt laughter bubbling brighter in his chest. He had the playful childish urge to knock her over and wrestle now, to crow about his victory.

“You’re wrong. You have very big reactions, if you know what to look for.”

“I do not.”

“The more you deny it…”

Her face twisted in what seemed like a fake rage. She kept her mouth pressed tightly closed and stared at the sky now sliding to purples and blues. What she said earlier might seem right, that darker colors suited her style more, but he loved knowing now that she liked pink. 

“I hate farms,” she said, possibly the closest to a confirmation he would ever get. He didn’t think it was a joke. There was an air of sadness to her voice that seemed shockingly sincere. 

Or was he projecting it all? He realized that was possible. He might be sitting here feeling like their hearts were stitching together in a way that was going to hurt very much when he stood up, and she was sitting there thinking what a nuisance he was. It wasn’t like she said or did anything that hinted at feelings for him. She endured him. Humored him at best. She had no choice. The power imbalance was real and he’d be a fool not to remember that his company might be less welcome than Namjoon’s –which she may have loudly hinted at before.

He stared out at the water, debating. He should leave her alone. He knew that. Everything in him knew that. But he didn’t want to just yet… could she endure him for a few more minutes? That was the least guilt and horror he had felt all day. He had almost killed Drin.

“You didn’t kill him.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t kill the man so you shouldn’t let it haunt you. Even if you had, accidents happen.” 

He stared at her, eyes wide, stumbling over the words, “How did you–”

“I won’t reveal my methods.”

He was struck dumb for a moment, astonished at her acuity. Could she read minds? Oh, he’d be so fucked if she could read his mind right now. The threat of her seeing what kind of man he actually was –the kind who developed affection and desire for their fiance’s maid– was  horror beyond belief.

Just to test it, he thought of some really crazy things. Six foot tall rabbits and a throne made of spaghetti and a giant fish leaping from the water to swallow them and carry them down to meet the king of the sea. She did not seem to read those thoughts.

“If you don’t want people to know what you’re thinking, don’t think so loud.”

“Don’t listen,” he countered. Which clearly brought her up short. She gave him what could only be characterized as a scandalized look, then stared out again at the sunset as if it was the most compelling thing she had ever seen.

He still felt like she was listening. Worse, he felt like he could talk to her. He felt like she could say anything and nothing would surprise him and she’d tell him her direct thoughts, he could count on it. Alone but not alone, that’s how he felt with her.

“I don’t even want to be the cause of someone’s death,” he admitted, verbalizing it this time.

“You’re going to be king. You’ll be the cause of many people’s deaths.” Yep, just like that.

He blew air out and looked down, for a moment allowing the intrusive thought of what it would feel like to just plummet down to the rocks and die. Then he’d never hurt anyone.

“I’ll be a different kind of king,” he tried to convince them both. “No wars, no hunting, no more hunger or… no poverty. I’ll take care of Destin and Paloma and… we’ll just all have good lives reading books and playing games and…”

At least she was kind enough not to tell him what a fucking idiot he was. She struck a nice balance of silence and directness. He appreciated that about her.

“And birthdays!” he said, suddenly recalling. “Is it your birthday soon?”

“What?”

“Is your birthday soon?”

“No, why?”

“Are you telling the truth?” he pressed, leaning closer and scrutinizing her closely. 

She batted him away, revealing bandages on her hand that was quickly tucked back under her cloak despite the warm evening. 

“My birthday is in the winter,” she said.

“An answer! Or close to one. Look how far we’ve come,” he teased.

“Why do you think my birthday is soon?”

“Nasimiyu asked Yoongi to make a Paloman dish and he thought your birthday was soon.”

Dulce considered this before admitting, “Maybe she thinks it is.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Do you know the birthdays of your servants?”

“Yes,” he answered easily. “Murtah’s is in late August and then Jungkook’s is September first.”

Dulce didn’t seem to know what to say to this. He watched the pensive look on her face out of the corner of his eye, trying not to look like he was watching her. 

“Are your injuries bothering you?” he guessed.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You were hurt at the palace, it’s understandable you should see the palace doctor to make sure–”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you’re fine. You seem…” He couldn’t think of the word. Not that she was usually chatty but she seemed… “Weighed down.”

“So do you.”

“I think I’m my usual charming self.” When she didn’t respond, like she wasn’t buying it, he conceded, “I told you I almost killed my friend. I feel that on my handsome broad shoulders.”

She was silent for a while. He couldn’t tell if she was debating an answer or simply not going to give one. Which was fine. He would like for her to say but it was always unpredictable.

“I think you need to be extra careful,” she said. “You should be more concerned that your bodyguard went missing.”

Seokjin frowned and pressed, “What do you know about that?”

“You don’t think servants notice when one goes missing? You aren’t careful enough. People wish to harm you.”

“Well… yes. I’m the crown prince. That’s always been true and always will be true,” he admitted. “I’ve learned to live without worrying about it. If I die… well, I’ll be dead and won’t care about it anymore, will I?”

Her head snapped up, her face showing how absolutely incomprehensible she found his answer. It made him laugh again, he couldn’t help it. 

“Did you think I’d scream and cry and hide away? I don’t want to die but it happens to all of us eventually. My mother, my brother… it won’t change my fate to sit around worrying about it every day.” He couldn’t believe how brave he sounded about it, although the things he said were true. He tried not to think about death every day. He tried to live as best he could.

“You aren’t afraid to die but you’re afraid to kill?”

“Well see… yes. Yes, that’s about right.” He gave her a bright grin. “I don’t want to, but I can endure a lot. Of course I guess you don’t really endure death, at that point you stop enduring–”

“What is a lot to you?”

“I’m still alive, so I suppose I don’t know yet.” She was taking this so seriously and he felt bad about that. “You don’t need to worry about me. I was born into this life and I’ll die in it too someday. But not today. Some days closer than others but…” He shrugged. “Best I don’t go into the laundry room, I guess.”

She didn’t laugh at his joke and he realized it was a bad one. She’d been badly injured in one. He was inclined to march back to the palace and ask someone working in the laundry what the hells had happened, but based on the last time he intervened in Dulce’s well-being, he suspected she would not be pleased. Did he care? It depended how badly she was hurt… 

He sighed, not sure how to navigate anything. He wouldn’t intervene. She’d made clear she didn’t want him to. He was supposed to be putting more space between them now. He had promised to respect her wishes. Soon he was going to promise to love and devote his whole heart to Nasimiyu.

He wanted to say something but the longer the silence lasted, the less inclined he felt to. She didn’t demand anything of him, and he felt tired now by what he’d managed for her entertainment. Wrung out. This was a long day. He didn’t know what to do about his father shooting at Taehyung. Who was that a warning for? It would take a couple days to bundle Taehyung off to somewhere else since they were arguing about where that someplace else would be; was it better to spend those days in the palace or in an anonymous inn? Seokjin was debating having Taehyung just sleep in his room, gossip be damned.

“I have something for you,” she said eventually.

He immediately realized his gift must have felt like an obligation instead of an apology, especially since it wasn’t her birthday.

He waved his hand, “No, no, you don’t need to–”

“Not a gift. Someone gave me a letter to pass on to you.” She dug around and pulled it out of a bag across her body, looked at it a moment, then handed it over.

“What is this?” he asked. The front was blank, the envelope crinkled from passage. The red seal on the back immediately brought recognition and understanding –he’d recognize the imprint of his brother’s ring anywhere.

“A letter.”

“Yes I managed to figure that much out on my own,” he snickered. He had an idea who it was from, so instead he asked, “How did you get this?”

“Someone gave it to me while I was out walking here and begged me to put it in your hands,” she said. 

“A woman,” Seokjin guessed.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“I didn’t read it,” Dulce said. “She didn’t say.” She looked him right in the face as she said this, direct eye contact that made him want to believe her… and yet he had melted and reattached enough seals to notice the telltale sign of staining on the paper.

“Please keep the existence of this letter between us,” he said lowly, tucking it into the pocket on the inside of his vest so it couldn’t be stolen until he got a chance to read it. After which he would probably need to burn it, depending on what it said, and if he was right about the sender. After all this time, he figured she was dead, in which case this letter might be something different. Either way, it was probably something dangerous for Dulce to know.

“What letter?” she asked, holding her hands out to show they were empty. He believed she would keep the secret, anyway, whatever she could actually glean from the contents. “I thought about not giving it to you, in case it’s trouble,” she admitted.

“I’m glad you did. Not every prince is a damsel who needs protecting, you know.”

“I think you may be a particularly reckless one.”

“How many princes do you know? Nevermind, Prince Hamisi, that was too easy. Well, this prince would be happy to walk you back to the palace now.”

“I’m fine. I’ll stay here a bit longer.”

“Is it safe?”

“It’s no laundry room so…yes.”

He was loath to leave her, but at least guards roamed the sea wall and she was less likely to meet trouble here than anywhere else. 

Still, “Will you at least promise to stay out of the laundry room from now on?”

“It’s my job.”

“I can make it illegal for them to put you on laundry duty. I’m a prince. I don’t mind being an eccentric one.” She gave him a baleful look that felt like victory but she shook her head and he wasn’t going to push her. He didn’t want to undo what had felt like progress towards forgiveness.

“Thank you for your company,” he told her with a slight bow. He meant it. The events of the day still troubled him but he felt soothed, despite the fact she hadn’t actually had anything comforting to say –clearly she did not understand the magnitude of what it meant to take, or nearly take, a human life. He was glad of that though.

Murtah shortened the distance between them as they walked back towards the palace so that within a few minutes they were side by side.

“Your Highness.”

“Murtah.”

“This wasn’t wise.”

“I believe you are here to guard, not to advise,” Seokjin pointed out. “I was only watching the sunset.”

“With your fiance’s maid.”

“A coincidence,” Seokjin insisted, then quickly added, “But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“It can’t.”

“No, it can’t,” Seokjin agreed with a sigh. He was projecting an attachment on a woman he barely knew. Was he just frightened by his impending promotion to husband and flailing about for diversion? 

Her bruises and bandages bothered him more than his own troubles, he couldn’t stop thinking of them.

The safest thing for them both was not to get close enough to notice them next time.

Maybe Taehyung wasn’t the only one he needed to find a safe, cushy place for, far from Priva. How much money would it take Dulce to go away and not tell Nasimiyu why?

Yes, that was the answer. Money. See? Seokjin was already thinking like a king.

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[aamalaaa]

urgent matters (m) | ksj 🔞

pairing: seokjin x reader

rating: m(18+); smut, cursing, alcohol consumption

genre: pwp basically, smut, a bit of fluff, dom sub dynamics (kinda), established relationship, just a tiny bit of humour cause I’m me

warnings: well it’s smut, brat tamer jin, dom!seokjin, sub!reader, spit kink, choking, slight pain kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), seokjin is very harsh (but it’s all within consensual boundaries they discussed before this story), alcohol consumption (they’re not tipsy anymore when they get into it)

a/n: there’s nothing much to say and oh welp I had fun with this one. I hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.6k

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The night started well, you and your boyfriend went to have dinner with friends, then dinner became drinks, and before you knew it you were all just a bunch of tipsy happy fellows singing songs in the streets, unbothered by the confused stares from passersby.

The night was hot and humid, the current heat wave hitting its peak earlier in the day. There were barely any stars in the sky, though that didn’t deter you and Seokjin from trying to find the big dipper, hidden somewhere beneath the clouds.

The both of you wave your friends goodbye as you drop off the last of them to their house, leaving the both of you to walk home at a little past midnight. But you feel safe with Seokjin’s arm around your waist, pulling you so close you have to walk in a slightly awkward manner to try and keep up with his hurried steps.

“Jesus Jinnie why are you walking so damn fast,” You breathe out between fits of hysterical giggles.

What’s so funny? Who knows.

“I have urgent matters to attend to,” He deadpans, which only serves to send you into another loud fit of laughter.

“What urgent matters? I thought we were spending the night together,” You try to fight your smile in order to give him a slightly more convincing pout.

He stops in his tracks, though you’re now stading only a few feet away from your house’s driveway.

You send him a puzzled look, only then noticing the absolutely bewitching glint in his eyes, which sparks shivers up your spine and all the way up to your nape.

He flicks your nose playfully, taking the moment of inattention to grab your bum forcefully and tugging you closer.

You swiftly collide onto his chest, barely having enough time to put your hands forward, softening the blow. You feel the rhythm of his heart, the organ beating quickly beneath your palm and under his suit.

You look up into his onyx eyes, straining your neck in the process. 

You feel so small in his arms, under his imposing gaze. His demeanor is such a contrast with the man he is day to day, it’s thrilling. And no matter how many times you’ve seen this side of his personality, you’ll never get used to it.

“We are spending the night together, and you are the urgent matter I need to attend to,” He darkly chuckles, the sound making your blood rush south as soon as it reaches your ears.

He leisurely dips his head, gaze fixed onto your lips, like he’s got all the time in the world. It’s agonizingly slow, so much so that you almost let a whimper escape your throat as your patience wears thin.

His pillowy lips leave a featherlight touch onto yours and you inhale sharply in anticipation, tension building steadily at the pit of your stomach.

But suddenly, your feet aren’t on the ground anymore and you let out a yelp as Seokjin picks you up and swings you around like a ragdoll, your hips laying on top of his broad shoulders, his rear end now at eye level. 

He crosses the distance to your front door in quick strides, leaving a powerful slap on your ass as he does so. You giggle as you bounce around in his hold, the loud smack mixes with your laughter and echoes all throughout the quiet neighborhood.

As soon as he closes the door, he maneuvers you around and onto your feet, leaving you dizzy in the process. You barely have time to take in your surroundings before you’re pushed against the wall, a strong hand sneaking to your back in an attempt to soften the blow.

And it’s things like these that make you go absolutely mad for the man you share your life with. His strong aura and authoritative presence are absolutely enough to make you positively melt in his embrace, but it’s the security that comes with it that drives you over the edge.

Knowing that you may give him free rein on everything that goes on between the four walls of your bedroom, but he’ll always make sure you’re safe and taken care of, never pressured or uncomfortable. 

And if that’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed, you don’t want to imagine what could top it.

You register a hand crawling up the side of your body, up to your cheek, and a thumb, softly tugging at your bottom lip.

“Open up baby,” He grunts, his voice dipping an octave lower. 

You feel heat lodging itself onto your cheeks, completely unrelated to the ongoing heatwave, as Seokjin tantalizingly latches onto your lip, dragging his teeth onto the soft flesh before releasing it with a slight popping sound.

That’s all it takes really, to make you go absolutely wild.

You press against his body, draping your arms over his shoulders in an effort to stabilize yourself as you voraciously attack his plump flesh, relishing in the small moan that escapes him as you do. 

Your mind is absolutely gone, lost in a Seokjin-induced haze, you have no complaints.

He earnestly rolls his hips against your core, hissing at the friction as if deliciously burned by an all consuming fire, and you can’t help the needy sob that pushes through your throat and into your lover’s mouth, instantly swallowed by his insatiable hunger. 

He swiftly picks you up with both of his hands, your dress hiking up to your hips as he grips your thighs fiercely, sure to leave bruises in their wake. You all but mewl as he stabilizes you, digging his nails into your skin and heads toward what you imagine to be your bedroom, too preoccupied by his mouth leaving harsh kisses onto yours to really care.

You feel the soft linen fabric caress your skin as he gently lays you down on the bed, breaking away from your hold, but not before swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, only fueling the fire coursing through your veins.

You stare at him unashamedly through half-shut eyes, like mesmerized, in a trance of some sort.

He swiftly shrugs his blazer off, then tantalizingly unbuttons his light blue shirt, a confident smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Then he proceeds to tug down his trousers and underwear in one swift motion, his erection hitting his stomach as he does.

You almost salivate at the sight that awaits you, a toned chest, slightly defined abs and a happy trail that leads all the way down to his thick length.

Seokjin slaps your thigh and sends you a stern look that makes you jolt on the spot, like an electrical shock coursing through you, unrestrained. You whimper loudly, which earns you a low groan.

“Get up, take this pretty dress off,” He demands in such an authoritative tone that you tremble in excitement. 

You hurriedly comply, tugging your dress off as quickly as you possibly can considering the tremor in your hands, or in your whole body, truthfully.

“Such a good girl for me,” He praises while gripping your waist and tugging you closer, tearing a high pitched whine straight from your chest.

He dips down to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. Then he heads a little lower, to your collarbones, leaving a map of purple bruises in his trail. You shake uncontrollably, going absolutely lax in his strong hold as soft airy whimpers slip past your parted lips.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, the impressive feat amazing you each and every time, and slides it off your arms while you can only comply, already way too gone to do anything but. 

He cradles your breast with one hand, the other steadily holding your waist, and latches his mouth onto your right nipple, scraping it with his teeth ardently, like a man on a mission. 

And truthfully, mission accomplished. You find yourself a shuddering mess under his ministrations, gripping a fistful of his hair to try and ground yourself a bit. It’s no use, not when he’s so hungrily devouring you like a five course meal. 

Then he proceeds to your left nub, giving it the same treatment as the other one, the man never did like favoritism. 

You involuntarily tug on his hair, which forces an absolutely filthy hiss past his lips, the sound like music to your ears.

He lifts his head up and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging so harshly that your head throws back due to the sheer force of his pull. You meet his dark pools who lustfully bore into your own, promises of filth swimming through their obsidian orbs. 

He forcefully grabs your chin, making you gasp as he does, and takes advantage of the moment, placing the tip of his thumb through your parted lips, your eyes widen in sheer surprise at the intrusion. 

He lets out a low chuckle. “You’re so beautiful like this baby.” He dips his thumb further into your mouth and moves closer, his breath now hitting your ear.

He looks downright dangerous, a dominating glint in his eyes and you can only nod, too aroused to get any coherent words out.

“You’ll be good for me yeah? You’re gonna take what I give you mmh?” He tightens his grip on your chin, making you wince in blissful pain.

“Gonna wreck you so bad and you’ll take it all like a good girl, yeah? Can you do that for me baby?” He all but groans into your ear, setting another spark of shiver through your spine.

You nod weakly as you lick at his thumb.

He takes his finger out and softly pats your cheek.

“Answer me baby,” He gently demands, caressing your hip in soothing circular motions.

“Yes, please I-” You unashamedly beg, that’s all you can do now, completely under his spell.

“Shhh,” He soothes, softly caressing your cheek with his hand.

He slowly backs up, peering into your eyes with such an adoring expression that it tugs viciously at your heartstrings, overwhelming you with emotions.

You drape your arms around his neck and pull him into a searing kiss that has you seeing fireworks. A kiss that feels like the first time, though there’s been thousands of these instances by now. 

His tongue and yours move in unison as he lavishes you in soft and languid strokes, each of them like a confession of pure and unconditional love. And you lap it up greedily, just as he does.

You barely notice when he lays you on top of the bed, being careful not to drop you too suddenly. He doesn’t break the scorching touch of his swollen lips on yours, not even for a second.

And when he does so, it’s only to trail down with featherlight kisses all the way down to your undergarments, spreading your legs wider and using his teeth to tug them off, leaving you completely bare for his eyes, and his eyes only.

He trails back all the way up to your inner thighs, showering your legs with a myriad of kisses as you can barely think anymore past the fog, shaking furiously under his ministrations. But his soothing caresses lets you know you’re safe and secure, always.

You arch your back as soon as the heat of his mouth brushes where you had been wanting him the most, the touch fueling a fire so bright, deep within your guts, that you think it could burn a whole city to the ground. 

He sucks and leaves tantalizing licks onto your sweet spot, looking straight into your eyes as he does so, hair sticking onto his forehead as sweat trickles down his face, the sight absolutely unholy and you’d willingly go to hell if it meant you’d get to see it over and over again.

You don’t need to tell him anything because he knows exactly what to do, your whimpery moans clearly indicating you’re in absolute sinful bliss, which only spurs him further on. 

“God I missed that sweet cunt, could have it for breakfast everyday,” He rumbles against you, his words sending your mind into a frenzy and the vibrations making you cry out a strangled sob.

You feel your gut tightening, indicating with certainty that your high is fastly approaching, you whimper in pure ecstasy, the sweet pain of it all too much to keep it at bay. 

And that’s exactly when Seokjin decides to leave one last stroke of his tongue on your core and come back up at eye level with you.

“Jin,” You sob out in frustration, the pain of your orgasm being denied making you close your eyes in blissful agony.

“Look at me baby,” He commands, gripping the side of your face forcefully. Your eyes snap open, and you feel tremors all throughout your body at the absolutely arousing look of pure need in his eyes.

A tear escapes your eyes, the tension between the both of you becoming unbearable. You need something, anything, now. 

“Good,” He smirks.

“Baby please, do something,” You plead, the high pitched sound so foreign to you that you don't even recognize your voice.

His smirk grows wider and you notice how his pupils are utterly blown, you almost purr at the sight.

“Yeah?” He teases cockily, making you lose your damn mind in the process.

“Please, please,” You cry, squeezing your eyes shut. He sharply throws his head back.

“God you’re amazing,” He lowly groans, sliding his hand to your neck and squeezing it tightly.

You feel his other hand spreading your thighs further apart and you open your eyes, focused on his movements, taking short, ragged, shallow breaths as anticipation builds at the base of your stomach.

He shoves his fingers into your mouth, groaning as you swirl your tongue and suck around the digits, leaving them coated in saliva. He then brings that same hand to his length, giving it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing slightly as he tries to breach it.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” He hisses, the muscles of his neck straining.

And it’s always slow at first, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s so fucking big that it takes time for your walls to accommodate to his size, it hurts and burns so good that your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a guttural moan.

When he bottoms out, hips flushed straight against your own, there’s not an ounce of control left to be found in your whole body, you hand it all out to him as a soft shaky plea leaves your parted lips. 

“Please,” 

“Just- fuck just give me a second okay,” He heaves out through gritted teeth, dragging his hand down to your stomach, where a noticeable bulge is protruding. 

And that, might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

When he starts moving, it’s only to quickly pick up an unrelenting pace spurring a myriad of curses and whimpers out of your wrecked throat. You circle your legs around his waist to gain a sense of stability amid the storm of sensations raging inside your whole body.

“Open your eyes,” He rasps, bringing his hand back to your throat and squeezing incredibly hard, cutting off your air supply as he does. 

You peer into his dark blown gaze and almost fall over the edge right on the spot. 

“Good girl. Now open up for me” He praises as he slams into you in quick sharp rolls of his hips.

And you obey immediately, head spinning from the lack of air getting into your lungs, the burn only making you that much more aroused. 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips before he spits into your wide open mouth, your gut tightening instantly at his actions. He lets go of your throat as you swallow, almost choking as air gets into your airways, your head spinning in pure pleasure at the sensation.

He rams into you in record strength, forcibly gripping your breast in both his hands before bringing one of them down to your bundle of nerves, drawing circles on it in quick, soft blissful motions. 

A series of quick sharp whines leave your lips as you jerk in place, your knees buckling, your high fast approaching. 

“Seokjin!” You strangle out as you feel the familiar warmth enveloping you, your back arching beautifully for the man driving you over the edge of a free falling cliff.

“Let go for me baby,” He keens into your ear, quickly dragging his length against your walls in unbridled passion.

Your orgasm crashes onto you in waves, the first wave being the most powerful you’ve ever experienced. You convulse uncontrollably around him, squeezing his arm as tightly as you can as you let your high wash over you in blinding pleasure.

You slowly come back down, feeling absolutely lax in your lover’s arms. He soothingly caresses your face, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear to help you descend from the heights of pleasure you’ve just experienced. 

He’s still rolling his hips into you, in long languid motions, coaxing out your orgasm to the last shred of it. You bring your hand up to his neck, crashing your lips onto his in a dazzling kiss that has you seeing stars against your shut eyelids.

You both kiss for a while, totally enraptured by each other as Seokjin continues his ministrations, making you mewl with each slap of his hips against your tender flesh.

You separate for air, forehead pressed together as your body shakes from the sheer force of his thrusts. 

“You ready baby? Do you want me to stop? ” He asks in a soothing tone, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

You shake your head no and smile at him, already feeling your gut tightening again as his words register. 

“Alright,” He whispers against your lips before gently pecking them, the gesture so loving your heart swells in your chest.

Then he picks up his pace, slapping into you without mercy as wildfire burns inside you once again.

You cry tears of beautiful agony, your sobs coming out strained and pitiful. And he kisses you fervently, swallowing each and every one of them as his hips stutter against you, a telltale sign that his orgasm is so close you can almost grasp it.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum baby,” He moans out, making you involuntarily tug the hair at the back of his head which earns you a sharp hiss.

He grabs your chin into his hand and brings his other one to your sensitive clit once again, swiping it in slow, drawn out motions with his thumb. You sob so hard you think you won’t be able to talk after this, your throat completely wrecked by it all.

You close your eyes as you feel another high building up in your stomach, brought on by harsh fast drags of his length against your bruised walls and unrelenting circular motions against your sweet spot. 

“Jin I’m close, baby-“ You choke out, throat so raw the sound of your voice ends up croaky and uneven. 

“Look at me,” He simply grunts, slapping into you even faster than before.

You snap your eyes open and you’re completely blindsided by your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, the look of pure love in his half-shut eyes making you come undone at the sight. 

You feel him stutter and release into you in warm spurts as he gives one last thrust, stilling against your hips in the process. You clench around him, milking out his orgasm as you do so.

Seokjin collapses onto you and it takes a few minutes for you both to come down from your highs, too fucked out to even speak.

“Babe please get off, I can’t breathe,” You playfully slap his shoulder.

“Are you saying I’m heavy,” He whines out, like a whole ass baby. Like he didn’t just fuck your brains out or something.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” You softly chuckle.

He groans but ultimately slides off of you, settling next to you. “That’s mean.”

“What’s mean is cutting off my air supply, you big baby,” You fondly say, stroking his hair as you do so.

He looks at you with wide googly eyes and reddened pouty lips before laying his head on your chest. 

“You didn’t seem to mind earlier,” He smirks, slapping your thigh in a playful manner.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the shy blush that creeps up your neck. “Stop it,” You giggle out.

You both talk for a while, chuckling at anything and everything that falls out of your mouths, completely blissed out and enamored with each other.

You both slowly feel sleepiness wash over you, excited by the promise of a goodnight’s sleep and a new day. 

Another day to fall even more in love with each other, another day to appreciate and annoy the other at the best of your capabilities. 

Seokjin is comfortably snuggled against you, head against your heartbeat, the rhythmic sound slowly lulling him to sleep. And you feel so much affection in your tiny heart, so much so that you feel it could burst out at any moment.

You lay a lingering kiss on his fluffy head of hair, which prompts a contented sigh out of him.

“I love you,” You whisper against him.

He hums quietly, which makes you giggle.

“I love you too,” He slurs out, on the brink of unconsciousness.

And you fall asleep like that, snuggled in each other’s embrace, ready for a new day to come.

-

-

a/n: how are we feeling? ok byyyyye *hides*

a/n2: this is the link to the general taglist for my writings<3 click here!

taglist: @bwormie @fragmentof-indifference

#bts one shot #bts x y/n #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts fic #seokjin fluff #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x you #seokjin x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin dom #bts fluff #bts au fic #seokjin au #seokjin oneshot #bts pwp #seokjin pwp

[bts-0t-7]

Not-A-Goodbye | KSJ

Pair: Seokjin x idol!reader

Summary: You knew this day would come but you were just hoping that you wouldn’t have to face it. You thought that you were ready. But as you stood at the military base, saying your goodbyes to your beloved, you didn’t want to let him go. 

Genre: Fluff, established relationship au

A/N: I am sorry for the sad chapter. I am so sorry 😭 I was bawling myself -

WC: 928

You knew time was not on your side. Time was never on either of your side. 

But you never thought that it would come so fast. 

The sun hung low on the horizon as the both of you got into the sleek back car. The morning sun cast a warm, golden glow over the scene at the military base. As you stood in the midst of a crowd that was all there to bid farewell to each of their beloved - whether it is family, friends, or boyfriends. You were standing there with the six of the other boys, all there to send your beloved who was about to begin his mandatory military service. 

All the boys were bidding Seokjin goodbye, teasing him by constantly rubbing his now shaved head - god, just the thought of it makes you feel a fresh wave of tears. But you couldn’t move. You stood still, heart heavy with a complex mix of emotions. Your beloved was standing no more than ten footsteps away from you, dressed in his military uniform as he stood tall and proud. 

But you knew him better. 

As his eyes caught the attention of yours, you saw the emotions that he was trying to conceal. Your throat tightened as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were so worked up on denying the fact that he was leaving but now looking at him, the reality of his absence was starting to sink in, and it was absolutely overwhelming. 

Seokjin turned to you, gaze locking onto yours and instantly wrapped you in his strong arms. Despite the brave face he put on, his eyes clearly mirrored the pain and sadness you felt. Swinging your arms around his waist, you embraced him tightly, voice shaking as you whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much, Seokjin.”

He held you close, arms a cave of warmth and comfort. “Hey now…” You left tear stains on his shirt as you tried to control yourself. “I’m going to miss you too but remember what we talked about last night? You’ve gotta take care of yourself when I’m not around, okay?” You shook your head, messing with your hair as you squeezed him tighter as if if you did, he wouldn’t leave. “Don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll be alright in there.”

Worry. It was an indescribable feeling - one that constantly plagues minds and bodies; one that is a type of uncurable illness. It was a constant companion, always gnawing at your heart ever since he received his draft notice. That night, you spent it crying in his arms, begging him to stay. You knew that nothing you did would ever change as the military was part of his duty as a citizen but it was difficult. Difficulty to not worry about the dangers that he might face and the time you spent apart. 

Worried about him being out in the cold, having heat flashes, his allergies, and so much more. The list was non-exhaustive. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. On the contrary, you trusted him too much. You knew that he wouldn’t look at others but you were worried - worried and jealous that they get to see your boyfriend doing push-ups, pull-ups, and runs. 

“But I can’t help but be worried.” You admitted, voice quivering. “You mean the world to me, Jin. What if you get hurt? Like you sprain your ankle? Or maybe you dislocated your shoulder? Or what if you get too cold during the winter or faint from the heat during the summer? Or what if -”

Seokjin gently brushed a tear away from your cheek and softly kissed your lips. “Shh… I understand your concern, but worrying is not going to change anything. Plus, if I ever get too cold, I can just slap heat patches like I always do.” Seokjin turned his nose upwards, laughing. “While I’m not around, you should focus on yourself. Grow yourself so that when I come home, you can be strong enough to take anything I give you.” Seokjin gently lifted a finger to caress your cheek. “I know you’ve been putting off so many things on my behalf. Now is the time to pursue your dreams, spend time with your friends, and do whatever you want to do.” Suddenly squishing your face in his big hands, you let out a surprised squeak. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be fine and come back as soon as I can.”

It hurts to know that his words bring to you a mixture of comfort and sadness. You knew he was right but the thought of him not being by your side made it hurt so much more. The extended period made it an even harder fact to accept. Still, you nodded and wiped your tears, hoping that your little smile would be convincing enough. But the little squish that Seokjin did on your cheeks and the quivering smile on his lips gave you enough of an answer. 

“I’ll… I’ll try, Seokjin. Promise to focus on myself.”

With a final, tender kiss, you reluctantly let him go. As you watched him walk away to join his fellow soldiers, you stood there, feeling a void in your heart. As they walked through the gates, you stared at Seokjin’s retreating figure until you couldn’t see him anymore. The moment you felt tears filling your eyes, you immediately turned back to the car as your shoulders shook. You knew that the days to come would be filled with missing him and longing for his presence.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts fics #bts au #bts fanfic #seokjin agnst #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin fic #seokjin oneshot #seokjin imagine #seokjin scenarios #seokjin x oc #kim seokjin x you #bts x oc #bts agnst #bts oneshot #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x oc

[magicshopaholic]

Helping Hands

Summary: Seokjin makes a suggestion without realising its consequences. Yoongi tries to help but faces resistance. Hoseok skips dance rehearsal. Jungkook gets involved against his will.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC, Hoseok x OC, minor Namjoon x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Mild humour, awkwardness, tension, angst

Word count: 14.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, kissing, dubious sexual harassment

A/N: It's been a whole month since the last fic; I feel like I've been reborn as I format this post. Hope you all enjoy this - it's a lot of chaos and movement of plot. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

You will all be pleased to know that I have once again not edited this fic. Takes place approximately two months after Touch, three months after Near Misses, and about four months after Tea and Olive (and about a month after Final Destination).

Tagging: @bbl32@ quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton  @dreaming-with-happiness  @confessionsofamarshlily  @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld

Listen to: "mr brightside" by the killers

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Chaeyoung [19:10] Big Hit lobby. SOS.

Something catches in Hoseok’s chest. Suddenly, Seokjin’s struggles with a combination don’t seem as worrisome.

“I’ll be right back,” he says shortly, picking up his jacket and racing down the hallway to the lifts, ignoring Namjoon calling his name.

Hoseok hurries into the lobby and scans the area, noting that nothing seems to look out of place. He spots her then; she’s by the sofas in the waiting area, standing on one hip and frowning mildly at her phone in one hand. The other hand is absently playing with the corner of a sparkly pink scarf around her neck.

He walks up to her, his heart already slowing slightly. “Chae,” he says, mostly to snap her out of her laser gaze at her phone.

She looks up at him and her face breaks out into a grin. “Oppa, hi!” she exclaims brightly. “What’s up?”

“What’s -” He shakes his head. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Why?”

“Because -” Hoseok frowns, fishing his phone out of his pocket and finding her text, wondering wildly if he’d imagined this. “Did you send me this?” he asks, turning the screen to her. “SOS?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows and nods in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. The receptionist wouldn’t let me upstairs to see you without having to sign in and I needed to find a way to bring you down here immediately. I’m taking the bus home and it’s going to be here in, like, ten minutes.” She shrugs in a what-are-you-going-to-do kind of way.

Hoseok stares at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? I just had a heart attack.”

“Why?”

“Because you said SOS! Save - Our - Souls!” he exclaims, clapping his hands to punctuate each word. “I thought something was wrong. I thought you were -” Here, he catches himself and forces himself to take a deep breath. “Forget it. What do you want?”

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer right away. She looks somewhat uncertain, as though just realising her harmless trick might have backfired. “I, uh…” She clears her throat and rummages in her tote bag. “I brought you a coffee,” she says, bringing out a clear glass with brown liquid and ice cubes rattling inside it. “It’s an Americano,” she adds, stretching her hand out to him until he takes it.

Hoseok stares. “And?”

“And -” She dives into her tote bag again, this time revealing a baby blue cardboard box. “- a muffin!”

His eyes dart from her face to the muffin and back to her. “I’m on tour. I can’t eat sugar.”

“Oh, it’s a sugar-free muffin.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Probably. I don’t know.” She sighs and Hoseok hopes she’s finally getting to the point. “Can we - can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

He struggles not to roll his eyes. “Okay,” he says drily, turning around and leading them to a meeting room inside a corridor behind the main lobby. He pushes the glass door open and holds it for her to skip inside, before closing it behind him. The white lights turn on automatically and the projector screen blinks to life.

“Alright,” he says, placing the coffee on the table and sighing. “What was so important that you needed to trick me into leaving rehearsal midway?”

“Okay,” she begins, placing her hands on the table and licking her lips. They are a glossy pink, notices Hoseok, looking light and natural yet perfectly made up. Maybe they’re pinker against her skin, or it’s the lighting. 

“- have a proposal for you. Oppa?”

Hoseok starts, realising he’s missed what she’s said while being distracted by the colour of her lips. Mortified, he clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters shortly, shaking his head. “Uh, I haven’t… slept. What did you say?”

She frowns but nods. “I was saying… do you remember when Chanyeol threw his fifteenth birthday party at our house and when all of you were playing Truth or Dare and I tried to join in, you said that the game was only for people without braces and then I ran away and cried in my bedroom?”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I… what?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “I’m not making this up. This actually happened.”

“No, I - I remember. Oh, God,” he mutters, his neck starts to heat up with embarrassment. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“And,” she continues, on a roll apparently, “remember when one of your idiot classmates sneaked in peppermint schnapps and even though I saw you all drinking, I still didn’t rat you out even after you were a jerk to me?”

Hoseok chokes, wishing the ground would swallow him up. “Is this why you showed up here? To remind me of my shameful past?”

“No, actually. I came here to give you a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Okayyy.”

“And to very generously unburden you of the plus-one you have for the three Michelin star restaurant opening at the St Regis tomorrow night at six pm, hosted by Marco Pierre White,” she adds seamlessly.

Hoseok stares at her for a moment before chuckling. “Wow, that was worth the journey. You bought a coffee and a muffin for that?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

Chaeyoung squeezes her eyes shut and clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Please, oppa? Please, please, please, please -”

“You want to be my date to an event?” 

“No, I don’t want to be your date - I want to be a plus-one. Just - just allow me entry into the event and I’ll leave you alone after that,” she promises. “You won’t even remember I’m there.”

Fat chance of that. But he doesn’t say it, opting to take a minuscule bite of the muffin and let her continue on her spiel.

“Look,” she sighs through her nose. “This is for work. I need content, okay? The last few stories I’ve submitted have been nothing special,” she says. “Those are the actual words my boss used: nothing special. And the other two in my team - one is the son of a CEO and the other is the literal niece of the editor. The only person I have is you,” she finishes.

He raises his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes! And if I get to cover this -” She lets out a low breath. “It’ll be everything. It’s super exclusive so it’ll be luxury, it’ll be art, culture, music, business. It’ll be everything,” she repeats, her eyes huge and wide and pleading. “I really need this, oppa, please, please?”

Something feels like it’s being squeezed in Hoseok’s heart and he resists the urge to pinch her cheeks. He sighs hugely and closes his eyes, wondering how the hell he went from barely being able to stand her to being on the verge of inventing a plus-one for her if needed.

“Oh, my God.” Chaeyoung gasps suddenly, her cheeks reddening. “You’ve already used your plus-one, haven’t you?”

“No! No - no, I haven’t,” he answers, shaking his head. “And… fine. I’ll take you.”

She freezes for a second, then breaks out into a grin. “Really? Oh - thank you, oppa!” she exclaims in delight, reaching forward and hugging him before stepping back and clapping her hands. “It was the coffee, wasn’t it?”

“That - that helped,” he agrees, reeling slightly in the flowery scent.

“And I promise you won’t even know I’m there,” she reiterates. “I’ll get there on time - I’ll take the bus. Just give my name to the door or whatever and I’ll get there myself and I won’t bother you at all.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. “There won’t be any cameras inside so you’ll be fine.”

Chaeyoung shrugs and beams. “Either way. I owe you big time. Or not, actually,” she adds suddenly. “You know, because of the whole… schnapps and braces thing.”

“Yes, I remember,” he says quickly, his face heating up again. “We’re even.”

“Okay, great. See you tomorrow!” She hugs him again before gathering her stuff and heading to the door. “Thanks again!”

Hoseok watches her leave through the glass doors, his stomach floating. A moment later, he picks up the muffin and takes a large bite of it and scoffs inwardly. Chocolate. 

He takes a second bite and heads back up to practice.

—

Seokjin takes advantage of the few minutes that Hoseok has disappeared and lies down on the floor of the practice room, spread-eagled. All he can hear are the sounds of his heart pounding from the intense cardio, his heavy breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

“Hyung.” A foot nudges his shoulder. “Do the bridge combo with me.”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes. “No.”

“Come on, we need to practice.”

He appreciates the we that Jungkook tactfully tacks on, but shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Just once.”

“No.”

“Hyung, what about you?” He’s talking to someone else now. Seokjin is too tired to open his eyes and see who it is, but thankfully that person lets himself be known.

“No.”

Yoongi’s answer has a finality to it that Seokjin will never be able to achieve, its biggest achievement being that Jungkook doesn’t ask him a second time. Seokjin opens his eyes a millimeter to see the maknae skip to the other side of the practice room and harass Jimin, watching them for a few seconds before sighing and dragging himself up into a sitting position.

“How great would it be if I sprained my ankle or something right now?” he mutters to Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t look away from where Taehyung and Jimin, and now Jungkook, are practicing their routine. “So you can sit out the next couple of days and get some rest?”

“Exactly.”

He shurgs. “Tomorrow is a light day. Ish. Just filming in the morning and the other thing in the evening.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Seokjin doesn’t mind it. He’s not looking forward to it, per se, but Seulgi will be there, other friends from the industry will be there and since they won’t be in an English-speaking country, he’s sure to be less self-conscious while making conversation.

“Are you bringing Seulgi?”

Seokjin nods. “I told the company two weeks ago, when they emailed us the invite. I don’t miss the constant follow-ups, believe me,” he sighs, stretching. “Are you bringing anyone?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he says eventually. “I guess I’ll have to tell the company. They’ll make a fuss, though, that I’m telling them at the last moment.”

“Wait, you still have your plus-one?” He waits for Yoongi to nod, just to confirm. “You know who really wants to go? Nari.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Your Nari?”

“My friend Nari,” he clarifies, having expected this. “But… yeah. I told her about it a couple of days ago and she said she tried to get tickets to it but the handful of public ones sold out in half a day. I mean… obviously, I can’t take her. But if you have an extra and you aren’t doing anything with it…” He trails off, giving Yoongi a meaningful look.

Yoongi frowns mildly. “You’re really okay with that? You, Nari… your girlfriend… together?”

Seokjin bites his lip and looks away. He and Nari had resumed their friendship tentatively - so tentatively that he doesn’t even want to talk about it for fear of jinxing it. He’d decided to give Nari space after that disastrous dinner, utterly confused as to why she was so angry with him all the time and what he was meant to do to make it better. Weeks passed with no contact until it occurred to Seokjin that if he didn’t reach out first, they would potentially never speak again.

It began with a single text; he’d messaged requesting her to wish her parents a happy anniversary. She’d responded hours later with a Sure, but since it was more than Seokjin had expected, he’d used it as a segue to mention her parents’ anniversary party years ago and the conversation continued. 

For the first time in his life, Seokjin was glad to be on tour. It provided the right amount of distance while also giving him a valid excuse to miss her - somehow, missing Nari felt like he was being unfair to Seulgi. He didn’t want to talk to any of his friends about it for fear of being right so he kept it restricted to texts as far as possible, something which seemed to suit Nari as well.

He’d been upfront about it with Seulgi; she’d sounded a bit surprised at first but didn’t say much more about it. He knew it couldn’t go on like this forever, though, that they would have to meet sometime. This event seemed as good as anything: Nari actively wanted to go, Seokjin had found a way for that to happen, and there was no pressure on any of them to host.

“It’s an event,” says Seokjin. “It’s not going to be the three of us alone.”

Yoongi nods but doesn’t pry. “Sure. I’ll let Nari know.” 

A weight seems to have been lifted from Seokjin’s shoulders. “Thank you.” 

Yoongi simply nods, but Seokjin sighs inwardly in relief. He would be seeing Nari again; maybe this would be the beginning of something new. Something different.

—

Nari’s hand jerks by a millimeter when her phone rings suddenly, causing her to disturb the clean line of sutures she’s practicing.

“Damn it,” she whispers, moving the surgical scissors to her left hand and retrieving her phone from the pocket of her lab coat hanging on the back of her chair. She reads the name on the screen and frowns, her momentary irritation forgotten as she answers it uncertainly. 

“Yoongi?” she asks, just to be sure. She can’t remember the last time she met Yoongi; it has to have been a year, at least.

“Hey, Nari.” There’s a shuffle on the other end. “Hope I’m not bothering you.” There’s a pause. “I texted.”

“Oh.” She checks her notifications to see two messages from him from half an hour ago. “Sorry. I’ve been busy today,” she says, placing the phone on the table, putting it on speaker. She’s alone in the skills lab for once and she’s determined to master these sutures today, even if she has to do it while on the phone.

“No problem. I, uh… do you want to go to this restaurant opening tomorrow? It’s called… Mélanges, I think. I have an extra ticket.”

Nari almost messes up another suture. Placing the practice kit to the side and frowning at the phone, she repeats his own words back to him. “Do I want to go… to the Melange opening night… with you?”

“That’s right.”

There’s another pause, this time lasting longer while Nari tries to process this. She wonders briefly if she’s missing something.

“You have an extra ticket? Or is it a plus-one?” she prods, hoping he’ll prove her wrong.

“It’s a plus-one,” he confirms, his voice a monotone. “The company gave all of us the option to bring someone.”

This, she knows. She knows who Namjoon will bring, who Taehyung will bring depending on what his situation with that racer girl is, who Seokjin will bring…

“Are you in?”

Nari bites her lip. “Why me? Don’t you have anyone else you’d like to take?” She says this with an awkward chuckle.

“No,” he says flatly. “And Jin hyung said you wanted to go and I have an extra, so I thought I’d ask.”

“Seokjin told you to ask me?” The words are out of her mouth before she can help it. She can’t imagine Seokjin would ever set her up, with Yoongi no less. Something feels like it’s sinking in her stomach, but it’s so slow and so heavy that she doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to focus on it right now.

“I have to get into a meeting.”

The hint is clear. Nari leans back in her chair, her gaze falling on the abandoned sutures. She’s scrubbing in on a CABG surgery tonight, one that’s sure to go on well into the morning. She has to get these sutures right by then, just like she has to be in a place where Seokjin setting her up doesn’t it bother her.

Besides, she really wants to go. It’s an opportunity to get out of the hospital and be in something other than scrubs and, if she’s lucky, put on some make-up.

“Um, yeah. Sure. What time?”

“It starts at six. I’ll text you the address.” There’s a click and Yoongi hangs up.

Nari watches her phone screen go dark, her mind moving in slow motion. Yoongi is the last person she ever expected to have this conversation with but then again, Seokjin is the last person she expected to meddle in her love life. 

But it’s time, she supposes. She would have had to see him sometime and if she’s seeing him with Seulgi, it wouldn’t hurt to have a date on her arm as well, even if it is a person who until today was only ever Seokjin’s quietest friend.

—

Chaeyoung stares at two pairs of heels, one white and one violet, wondering which one would be more professional and still the one that would allow her to stay on her feet longer.

She wishes they would speak to her. She’s already getting late and if the bus is also late, she can say goodbye to the first section of her research on the set-up and arrival of the attendants.

The doorbell rings just as she picks the violet pair. Pulling them on as she hops to the door, she opens it to reveal Hoseok, in an all-black ensemble, with the shirt unbuttoned to reveal a sliver of tan collarbone, and his hair perfectly styled.

“Hey,” she says slowly, placing her foot back on the ground. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok, who seems to be momentarily surprised at seeing her in a dress, shrugs belatedly. “What do you mean? You’re my date for tonight, so… I’m picking you up.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Chaeyoung doesn’t respond for a moment, an ancient, repressed part of her heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. 

“Oh,” she says. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to take the bus, but… come in,” she adds, opening the door wider.

“Unfortunately, my parents raised me better than that,” he quips, stepping inside with his hands inside his pockets. A faint, comforting scent of cologne travels with him, of something light and airy. “Are you ready?”

“Almost,” she replies, suddenly remembering her heels and bending to fasten them. When she stands up straight, she’s nearly three inches taller.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “It’s like magic,” he jokes dryly, his eyes dropping lower and his smile fading slightly. His gaze stutters around her chest before he meets her eyes deliberately. “Are you sure that’s not…” He swallows awkwardly. “Too revealing?”

Chaeyoung frowns and looks down, seeing the hints of cleavage she’d deliberately picked this dress out for. In her opinion, it made her look more womanly and less childish; it has come to her notice that she might be taken less seriously than her peers due to her youthful appearance and while it sounds like a compliment, Chaeyoung knows it’s no way to get ahead in her career.

“No,” she answers, adjusting her neckline. “Believe me, I chose this dress for a reason. You know, you really didn’t have to come,” she repeats, sounding slightly apologetic. “You’re doing me a big enough favour by just inviting me.”

“It’s not a big deal. The last thing I need is you calling me from outside the event because security won’t let you in.”

Chaeyoung chuckles good-naturedly. “Well, that doesn’t not sound like me,” she agrees, disappearing back into her room. “Still,” she adds from inside, “it’s really cool of you.”

Hoseok struggles not to roll his eyes and checks his watch. They’ll make it on time if she wraps up in the next couple of minutes. He wonders if he can talk her into wearing some kind of scarf before deciding it’s not worth the hassle, for it’s almost guaranteed to start a fight.

“Chae, I don’t mean to be that guy,” he calls out, hearing vague sounds from inside her room, “but we should head out soon.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she says hurriedly, clutching a fistful of jewellery and shuffling out of the room in tiny steps, he presumes, so as to not trip over her heels. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know. I’m totally fine getting there by myself,” she tells him sombrely. “I hate to inconvenience you.”

“Fine, I’ll just leave in that case. You can take the bus and meet me there.” He turns to leave.

“Okay, okay.” She grabs his arm and grins sheepishly. “Thank you for the ride, oppa,” she says sweetly.

Hoseok does his best to ignore the vague fluttering in his stomach. “You got it. Now can we go?”

“Yeah, just a minute.” She heads over to the dining table and lays out the jewellery and mercifully doesn’t spend much time deciding on the simple silver chain with a pendant dangling from it. Grabbing a small clutch from the table, she approaches him.

“Do you mind?” She hands him the necklace. “I spent an hour doing my nails to perfection today and I really don’t want to ruin them.”

“Oh - um, okay.” A little taken aback, Hoseok takes the necklace, noting the dark purple pendant that matches her shoes. Chaeyoung turns around expectantly and he gingerly moves his arms over her head to bring the necklace around her neck. Before he can say anything, she sweeps her long hair off her neck and over her shoulder, revealing more skin than Hoseok had anticipated.

His fingers slightly unsteady, he tries to focus all his concentration on the delicate silver clasp and not on anything else - not his fingers brushing the indents of her spine, not the thin straps of her dress against her exposed back, not her moving closer to him to give him a better view so he can -

“Oh!” Hoseok jumps backwards like he’s been burnt. Chaeyoung turns around, too, looking startled.

“What?”

“I -” He looks up to see her frowning. “Nothing. It - it’s done,” he stutters, watching as she feels for the clasp and tugs at it once.

“Cool. Thanks.” She nods, flipping her hair back and looking at him. “Are you okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Hoseok nods. He can still feel her hips brushing against his, the suddenness of it and the smoothness of the satin, mixed with the flowery perfume.

“Sure?”

“Let’s go,” he says abruptly, spinning on his heel and stalking out the front door. He hears her gathering her keys and closing the door and he subtly adjusts his slacks, making sure she doesn’t notice when she joins him.

—

When they enter the venue, Chaeyoung lets out a low whistle.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, her gaze darting around the interior bathed in golden light. “I owe you big time for this, oppa.” She fluffs out her hair and takes a deep breath as Yoongi joins them, to whom she gives a small wave. “Okay, I see Sooah. She promised me tips on which guest to start with so I can work my way through the crowd. Thanks again for this,” she says, squeezing Hoseok’s arm appreciatively and walking away. 

Hoseok watches her go in the direction of the small makeshift stage, her long hair dancing behind her. He can’t help but feel a little sorry as she does, for he was hoping she would at least hang around with him for the initial bit of the party.

“Isn’t that your friend’s sister?”

“What?” His train of thought interrupted, he turns to see Yoongi raising his eyebrows blankly. “Oh. Yeah. She needed access to a bunch of socialites for work, so I thought…” He gestures vaguely.

Yoongi nods. “She’ll definitely find those here. I kind of thought this would be a totally different crowd.” He clicks his tongue.

“The Samsung chairman is here,” he replies, tilting his head towards a group of men in slick suits. “So it’s that crowd. I mean, look around - there’s his daughter, she’s always in the paper. Then there’s… oh, that actor - Dong-won? Something like that. Choi Siwon is here, whoa… Suh Minjung, Kang Sera, Lim Hayeon…”

Yoongi pauses. Something stirs in the back of his mind. A name, a face, lots of diamonds, an air of superiority laced with insecurity. Just as he starts flipping through the memories, they’re joined by Seokjin and with him, his girlfriend Seulgi in a salmon-coloured dress, holding a martini glass.

“This restaurant is going to be insane,” declares Seokjin, once they’re done with basic pleasantries. “The appetisers are to die for.”

“The cocktails aren’t bad either,” says Seulgi approvingly, taking a sip of hers.

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Hoseok, his stomach already rumbling. He looks around again to see if he can spot Chaeyoung, his heart sinking slightly when he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t know how she’s planning to approach all these people tonight; he wonders if he should bring her a drink, just for liquid courage.

“Who else is here?” Seokjin asks.

“Taehyung and Jimin are running late, as usual,” supplies Yoongi. “Jungkook is here somewhere and Namjoon said he was reaching a few minutes ago…” He fishes out his phone, presumably to check.

“Isn’t that him right there?” Seulgi points towards the bar, and all three men turn to see Namjoon, tall and blond, at the bar. They watch as he accepts a glass of whiskey and takes a big sip from it, swallowing it with a pained frown before visibly forcing his face to relax as he starts to socialise.

“That’s not good,” remarks Hoseok in a low voice. “How was he in the studio today?” he asks Yoongi.

“I didn’t go. He said he could do it himself.” He shrugs apologetically. “I was fine avoiding him for a bit.”

Seulgi frowns. “Why are you guys avoiding him?”

Seokjin sighs hugely. “He and his girlfriend broke up and he’s… kind of using all his energy to be normal on stage and in public,” he ventures.

“So, he’s totally depressed in private,” says Hoseok, voicing what Seokjin had tactfully left unsaid.

She winces. “That’s rough.”

Seokjin makes a noise of acknowledgement. “We can’t let him drink himself to death tonight just because there’s an open bar, though. Someone needs to look out for him.”

Hoseok gives him a look. “He’ll be fine; he’s technically working. But I can do it,” he adds quickly, when Seokjin narrows his eyes at him. “For a while.”

“I’ll take over for you,” offers Yoongi as Hoseok leaves to go to Namjoon, looking at his phone again. “Nari’s calling - hang on.” He answers it and backs away from the rest of the group.

“Right.” Seokjin exhales and puts his hands in his pockets. “I almost forgot Nari was coming.”

He misses Seulgi’s fleeting frown. “Really? You mentioned it in the car.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

Seokjin looks confused for a moment but then looks ahead to see Yoongi and Nari entering the venue, stopping at the bar first. They seem to be speaking in short sentences, his hands in his pockets and hers crossed over her chest as she looks around warily. Her eyes meet Seokjin’s for a moment and he smiles a bit in response, raising a tentative hand in greeting. At that moment, however, the bartender slides her drink across the bar and she turns away, nodding at something Yoongi says.

They walk over, Nari hanging back slightly as they approach. 

Seulgi speaks first. “Hi, Nari,” she says, giving her a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” replies Nari, looking slightly awkward. “You, too.” There’s a pause where no one speaks. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. You do, too.”

“Thanks.”

Seokjin, feeling rather like he wants to die, takes a deep breath. “Good to know you got the evening off.”

“Yeah, I was in a fourteen hour surgery last night and I’ve worked overtime this week.” She shrugs and her face relaxes a bit. “They basically told me to take the night off.”

He smiles a little wider, glad they’re at least talking, when Yoongi interrupts them.

“I’ll be right back,” he says abruptly, walking away with no further explanation, his gaze trained in one direction.

Leaving the others, he walks as quickly as he can without attracting attention, making a beeline for a person whom the universe has made it impossible for him to run into at Big Hit during the last two days that he’s been here in Seoul.

Miso notices him when he’s about ten feet away, her face lighting up momentarily at the sight of him before it immediately freezes into a warning one. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head infinitesimally, but he’s already reached her.

“Hey, stranger,” he mutters, sounding slightly breathless to his own ears.

“Go away,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “Now.”

Something feels like it’s getting crushed in his stomach when she looks away from him, but it’s only then that he notices who she’s with; a group of women, all dressed in designer wear and holding glasses of champagne, beginning to take notice of him one by one.

“You look familiar,” says one of them, looking brilliantly beautiful in a red low-cut gown. “Are you an actor?”

Yoongi starts to shake his head, but someone else answers for him.

“No. He’s Miso’s… friend.” Kang Sera, once again laden in diamond jewellery and a beige dress with smaller diamonds encrusted in it, smiles without disturbing the rest of her face. “You have been to my house,” she states.

“Well… yes, ma’am.” Yoongi nods, noting from the corner of his eye how Miso stiffens next to him. She’s in a white dress tonight, looking smaller and more delicate among this crowd of rich socialites than he’s ever seen her. He forces himself not to turn towards her. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Sera gives him that same cold smile before turning to her daughter. “Miso, you may go with your friend if you wish,” she offers. “You don’t have to stay with us. We’ll just bore you.” Everyone titters in response.

Yoongi is about to sigh inwardly in relief when, to his surprise, Miso shakes her head. “Thank you, Mother, but we’re just colleagues. Yoongi has other friends here. I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” she says to him smoothly, reaching over to switch her empty champagne flute from a passing waiter. She turns away again, this time with a sinking finality.

He swallows and backs away, before turning around and finishing the rest of his drink in one go as he walks away. He’s barely reached the bar again when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Kang Chanel [18:50] I’m sorry. But you have to stay away tonight.

All of a sudden, the room seems a little brighter. Yoongi looks in her direction; she isn’t looking at him, standing silently and unsmiling among the other women of Seoul, looking terribly out of place. 

Min Suga [18:51] Why? I’m not afraid of your mother.

He watches as she subtly turns her phone towards her, her hand near her hip, and types out a reply with one hand.

Kang Chanel [18:51] You don’t have to be. Just do as I ask. Please.

Yoongi clutches his phone tightly, feeling every lingering ounce of worry and fear and downright uncertainty about Miso that he’s kept to himself the last two months while on tour. That’s the worst part: the uncertainty of what the hell her life is, of why she’s so guarded all the time. Every conversation he’d initiated stayed frustratingly limited to texting, making it far easier for her to divert the topic every time it came to her. 

“How’s it going?” Hoseok appears from seemingly nowhere, tapping his fingers on the bar. “Um… one appletini and… one Long Island Iced Tea,” he says to the bartender before turning back to Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. “What about you? Two drinks?”

“One’s for Chaeyoung,” he answers. “She’s been gone for a while and I just want to make sure she’s okay and stuff. Have a drink with her, make sure she’s not lonely or bored. I brought her here; it’s only polite.”

Yoongi nods absently before frowning. “Weren’t you on Namjoon duty?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to take over now. If you want company, you can ask… no, Jimin is hanging around Sooah… oh, Taehyung is free,” he offers. “He and Jungkook are discussing the conditions for Dilara’s race this weekend but other than that, they might be fun.”

He considers this. “Sure. Not like I have anything else to do,” he mutters, taking his second whiskey and hopping off the stool.

Something is off with Yoongi, Hoseok is sure. But he isn’t about to let that negativity dim his focus. He grabs the drinks and snakes through the crowd to where he sees Chaeyoung with a couple of vaguely familiar chaebol-turned-actors, and Park Jimin. They’re all smiling and talking, and she has her phone out as one of them talks deliberately into the speaker.

“And that’s my official statement,” he declares, winking at her as Hoseok comes closer.

Chaeyoung laughs and locks her phone deliberately. “Thank you. I can’t wait to hear your unofficial statements now.” She turns to see Hoseok. “Oh - hey.”

“Hey,” he says, casually making his way in between her and the guy she was talking to. “Thought I’d get you a drink, in case you’re too busy to get one.”

“Oh, well… technically, I’m working,” she says sheepishly, accepting it anyway. “But one drink won’t hurt, I guess.”

“The more, the better,” her new friend says.

“Hyung, did you get a drink for me, too?” Jimin pipes up hopefully.

“Nope. Who are your friends?” he asks Chaeyoung, smiling frozenly at the other two.

“Oh, this is Lee Eunwoo -” she points to the first one “- and this is, of course, Kim Baekhyun from The Lost Ship,” she finishes, smiling brightly. It’s a different smile, Hoseok notices. He wonders if this is her work smile; either way, he knows it’s one he’s never seen. “This is -”

“J-Hope!” One of them - Eunwoo or Baekhyun - says loudly and in mild wonder. “Honour to meet you!”

Slightly mollified, he nods. “Er, thank you. Are you both -”

“Drinks!” he continues, snapping at a waiter and beckoning for him to come over. Hoseok frowns at him while Chaeyoung and Jimin visibly cringe, and watches as he supplies Jimin and his friend with fresh drinks. “To BTS!” he declares randomly, holding his glass out so everyone clinks theirs with it. 

“Chaeyoung was telling us about her job,” says the other one - Hoseok can’t remember which one he is. “She’s been working very hard tonight,” he adds, giving her another wink.

Hoseok imagines knocking his glass out of his hand so his drink spills down his crisp white shirt. “She’s a hard worker. Always has been,” he says instead, throwing a brave arm around her shoulders. He ignores Jimin’s raise of the eyebrows and the slight pink tinge that appears on Chaeyoung’s cheeks.

He hangs around there for a while, a chaotic group of twenty-somethings drinking with gusto at what was supposed to be a classy event. Sooah joins them for about ten minutes as well, taking a short break from her organising duties, and somehow influences everyone to chug their drinks and get fresh ones.

“I’m good,” says Chaeyoung, good-naturedly declining another drink. Sooah doesn’t push and Hoseok, relieved at Chaeyoung’s decision, is about to decline another one as well when one of the chaebols gets involved.

“I thought we were just getting started!” he groans jokingly. “It’s seven-thirty - the drinking has barely commenced,” he adds, taking another drink from a waiter, who pauses expectantly with the remaining drinks on the tray.

Something about the guy’s - Eunwoo, Hoseok decides - statement sounds vaguely challenging. Hoseok knows better, though. He should know better, but the image of Eunwoo winking at Chaeyoung compels him to accept another flute of champagne and clink it hard with his.

“Hoseok, are you sure?” Chaeyoung asks in a low voice.

“Of course, I am,” he answers, even as his vision swims slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re kind of leaning on me a bit,” she tells him, holding his shoulder to steady him.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” he asks vaguely, taking another long swig of the bubbly champagne and feeling it go directly to his head. It stings his throat pleasantly and he welcomes the sensation, the only other ones he’s completely aware of being Chaeyoung’s hand on his shoulder and the familiar flowery scent.

She chuckles. “Sure. But maybe you should drink some water?”

It sounds like a good idea. He bites his lip, though, and looks down at Chaeyoung seriously. “And you’ll stay right here when I’m gone?”

“Absolutely,” she promises. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Alrighty. I’ll come find you.” He pats her head and makes his way to the bar, using all his concentration to walk to the bar in a straight line. The further he gets away from that noisy group, the steadier he feels. He reaches the bar and stops himself next to a woman nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre. 

“Hoseok?”

He does a double take when he notices her. “Nari?” He blinks a couple of times to confirm that it is indeed her. “Wh - hey! It’s been a while. Are you here with, um…”

“Jin? No.” She shakes her head. “I’m here with Yoongi, actually?”

Hoseok wonders if he’s heard her correctly. “Really?” When she nods, he frowns. “Min Yoongi? Like, our -”

“Yes, that one.” She rolls her eyes as her drink arrives, along with Hoseok’s glass of water.

“Oh.” He takes a slow sip. “Does Jin hyung know?”

Nari exhales heavily. “It was his idea, apparently. Unfortunately, my date seems to be very busy and has been MIA for most of the evening so far.”

Hoseok feels rather like he’s missing something, but he’s intrigued. He locates Chaeyoung with some effort, still with the same group, Jimin still with them. Almost as though she can hear his train of thought, she catches his eye and waves, miming drinking something.

“She’s cute,” remarks Nari. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my date,” he says, surprisingly easily.

“Mhm. Like a date-date or a date you kind of abandon once she’s inside?”

“Erm… a date-date.” Hoseok chews his bottom lip awkwardly. “God, I hope they serve the food soon,” he says after a few moments.

“Me, too,” she starts to say when, to Hoseok’s immense relief, Namjoon and Yoongi approach them, the latter giving Hoseok a meaningful look as he trails slightly behind the leader.

“Please tell me they’re serving the food soon,” groans Namjoon, placing his empty glass on the bar and standing next to Hoseok. “Oh - hey, Nari.”

Nari nods at him while Yoongi stands on her other side. “Cheers,” he says quietly, clinking his glass with hers, apparently not noticing her motionless stature. “Where’s Jin hyung?” he asks after a moment.

“No idea. How’s your night going?” she asks in turn, a slight bite in her tone.

He shakes his head. “Crap.”

She doesn’t bother answering, choosing to sip at her drink instead. “I could really use some food,” she mutters, mostly to herself.

“I’m heading over to the appetiser station. If you want to come,” offers Namjoon indifferently.

“Sure, why not?” With that, she and Namjoon leave the bar without another word to Hoseok or Yoongi.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to go with him?” Hoseok hisses.

“Namjoon is a big boy. He can manage himself for a while,” says Yoongi dismissively. His eyes roam the hall, searching for Miso. Every moment that he doesn’t see her feels like something bad waiting to happen; the memories of the last time they were at a party and she disappeared from his sight haunts him. How late he’d been to save her, what possibly happened as a result of it… it’s kept him up more nights than he cares to count, despite Miso herself absolving him of any guilt.

His anger at the enigmatic Kang Jaesung rises again, as it has at various times in the last couple of months. He’s not here tonight, though; Yoongi has checked the guest list with Sooah, but it’s no matter. Miso’s father isn’t here, but her mother certainly is. 

Miso’s message floats through his mind. He knows he should adhere to her wishes but it’s so hard, so difficult to sit here and do nothing and know nothing when he has at least an inkling of how horrible her parents are. Just as he’s struggling with this dilemma, in an insane coincidence, Kang Sera takes Nari’s vacant spot and orders a drink.

Yoongi freezes, noting vaguely as Hoseok floats away with a fresh drink in his hand. Before he can decide whether to say anything, she seems to notice who he is.

“Miso’s friend,” she exclaims, the same half-smile on her face again. 

“Yoongi.” He pauses. “Nice to meet you again.”

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Miso’s. It doesn’t happen very often, actually,” she chuckles. “Remind me again how you know each other?”

“We’re co-producers at Big Hit,” he answers. “We’re in the same - we used to be in the same team. Until recently.” He bites his lip.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you anymore?”

She wanted a change and I pushed her into it without knowing. “It’s just part of the deal,” he says instead. “We all work with different producers.”

“Interesting. You’re the only one I’ve ever heard of, though,” she points out. “I’m glad she has a friend. I worry about her sometimes, you know.”

Yoongi lowers his head, trying not to look too confused. He’s insightful enough to know that she’s not being genuine about concern for her daughter, but he also can’t tell what she’s getting at. 

“She’s - she’s good at her job,” he says eventually. “We’ve worked together for a while.”

It’s back, the cold smile, as though she’s forgotten how to show real happiness. “That’s great. You should come home sometime, in that case. For dinner. We have a world renowned private chef who can make you anything you like.”

Yoongi nods his head in silence, more preoccupied with imagining being seated opposite Kang Jaesung at the dining table and keeping calm rather than the private chef and his prowess.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “In fact, if you’re free -“ 

Something appears in between them and Yoongi realises a moment later that it’s Miso, placing herself between them with her back to him. Her hair brushes against his shoulders and his heart catches.

“Mother, Minseo from Balmain is here,” she says calmly, cutting her off. “She said she was looking for you, so I thought I’d look for - oh. Hello, Yoongi.”

She glances at him for barely a moment; he can almost believe that they hardly know each other. 

Sera raises her eyebrows and her eyes flit between both of them before she nods. “Of course. Have a good evening, Yoongi. And it’s rude to interrupt, Miso.”

With that, she sweeps away in a flash of finery and Chanel No. 5. 

“Wow,” he exhales, shaking his head. “Your mother is -“

“Unbelievable,” hisses Miso, glaring at him before stalking away in the opposite direction from her mother.

“Wait, what?” Momentarily stumped, Yoongi abandons his drink and follows her. She’s fast, though; he doesn’t catch up with her until she’s halfway to the appetiser station, by the giant four foot menus with he five-course meal printed on it. There are fewer people here and she automatically slows down.

“Miso -“ He reaches for her arm but she flinches out of his grasp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispers furiously, her head farting around cautiously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to - look, you told me to stay away from you and I did, but -“

“When I said stay away, I meant from me and my family. Especially my mother,” she adds with a disgusted look. “Why can’t you just do what I ask, for once?”

“But I didn’t even do anything - she came up to me.”

“So? You couldn’t have walked away?”

“No, that’s rude!” he exclaims, still in the same exchange of whispers, sighing when she scoffs in disbelief. “Look, can you just tell me why -“

“No, I can’t, because it’s none of your business,” she snaps. “Stay away, Yoongi. I mean it.” As though completely unaware of his stomach sinking into his knees, she storms off in a sea of white.

—

Nari states at her reflection in the women’s powder room, the entire area bigger than her living room. She’s starting to realise she has no idea why she’s here or why she’d ever wanted to come in the first place. 

Even worse, she has no idea why it occurred to her one second after she told Seokjin that she wanted to go, that he would be bringing his girlfriend along. Far from it being a way to gingerly reconcile, it’s only serving to remind her why she’d chosen to stay away all this time.

She hasn’t seen any of the others for longer than a few seconds. Hoseok already seems on his way to getting wasted, Jimin greeted her warmly but then scooted off, while Taehyung and Jungkook haven’t been spotted at all.

Ironically, the only person she’s actually talked to tonight has been Namjoon, the one person Yoongi advised her dryly to try and avoid. It was one of eight words that her blessed date had uttered to her before disappearing. Namjoon was clearly in a bad way but misery loves company, and on some cathartic level, Nari was glad to be miserable with someone else who was also miserable.

Except Namjoon knew what he was miserable about. Nari had only an inkling that she refused to get into right now, when the stall door behind her opens, and Seulgi appears.

“Oh.” She looks surprised as well, taking a beat before standing one basin away from Nari. “Hi. Haven’t seen you much tonight.”

Nari nods, not looking at her. She wishes Seulgi hated her. She wishes she hated Seulgi, but beyond a nagging indifference, she can’t find anything.

She is not the problem, says a voice in her head. The voice is knowing, and Nari shuts it up instantly. 

With a huge effort, she meets Seulgi’s gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I’ve been… around,” she answers. “Went out to get some air and stuff.”

Seulgi nods. She seems far more guarded than she had during the dinner, much more like their accidental chance meeting at the coffee shop. “Yeah, it’s more crowded than I thought it would be. Seokjin’s been in work-mode all night, talking to all these important people.” She shakes her head and half-chuckles. “It’s kind of boring.”

Tell me about it. “I’m just here for the food,” says Nari wryly.

A smile flashes across Seulgi’s face as she washes her hands. “Me, too. Can’t come soon enough.” She pauses. “You came with Yoongi, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Right. Seokjin told me. I wasn’t sure - I saw you with Namjoon a couple of times so I thought maybe…” She shrugs uncertainly.

There’s a couple of seconds where Nari processes what she means. “Oh. No. God, no.” She shakes her head vigorously. “No, no. Absolutely not.”

Seulgi raises her eyebrows at this emphatic denial. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sorry. Didn’t mean to assume.”

“That’s okay.”

She nods and begins rummaging in her clutch for lipstick. Nari sneaks a glance at her, wondering wildly for a moment what would happen if Seulgi’s assumption was true. If she and Namjoon did hook up tonight, the amount of alcohol it would take for that to happen, how Seokjin might react…

A moment later, she shakes her head, a little shocked at the road her thoughts took. She sticks her hand out under the faucet and rinses them with rigour, as if hoping to get rid of her momentary insanity.

She and Seulgi exit the powder room together, an awkward distance maintained between them.

“Do you want to join us for a drink?” Seulgi asks, pointing towards the party.

Nari follows the direction of her thumb and sees Seokjin standing with Taehyung and another person she doesn’t recognise, the latter two doing all the talking while Seokjin stands with them, hands in his pockets and comfortably silent. 

He doesn’t like these parties at all. There was a time, aeons ago, where Nari would be studying late at night and would suddenly get a text from Seokjin, complaining about the number of people he was around. They would then engage in a game of reverse twenty questions where Seokjin would get a picture taken with a handful of guests, and he and Nari would invent an entire background and personality for them.

That was Before, though. Now, Nari looks at Seokjin and then at Namjoon across the room where he’s speaking to someone else, nodding with a forced smile on his face. It’s a choice between mostly comfortable silence and minor small talk with a friend, and feeling like her heart is getting squeezed further with every breath she takes.

“Maybe later. Thanks.” Nari waits for her to nod before walking towards Namjoon, deliberately not looking in Seokjin’s direction. “Hey,” she says to him, as his companion floats away. “Do you want another drink?”

“Always,” he mutters, and they head to the bar and order two whiskey sours. Namjoon leans against the bar and surveys the room, exhaling. “Can this night end already?”

“I know, right?”

Namjoon frowns slightly. “Didn’t you come here with Yoongi? Where is he?”

“Who knows?” It was annoying her before, but now she’s over it. Mostly. “Last time I saw him he was talking to some lady at the bar.”

“Really? Who?”

“The rich one.”

He chuckles without humour. “That narrows it down,” he agrees wryly as their drinks arrive. They don’t bother moving but as it turns out, they don’t have to. Her aforementioned date appears then, frowning deeply at nothing in particular as he holds a glass with a tiny bit of golden liquid in it. He gives both Namjoon and Nari a cursory nod and finishes the rest of his drink in one go.

Before they can exchange any more words, Seokjin arrives with Hoseok in tow. He meets Nari’s eyes and gives her a tentative smile that she tries to return before averting her gaze. Namjoon’s words have reminded her of Seokjin’s role in this mess of a situation; his monumentally stupid decision of setting her up with someone who obviously didn’t want to be set up.

“Uh… Namjoon?” Seokjin asks delicately, his eyes on his glass now. “Is that your… fourth? Fifth drink?”

Namjoon pauses, his glass halfway to his mouth. “Third. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just. None of us have actually… seen you drinking for a while, so we weren’t sure. But, okay. Third is… not bad. Third is good.”

Nari struggles not to roll her eyes at how transparent all three of the newcomers are, and if she can tell what they’re up to, Namjoon certainly can.

“I’m fine, hyung,” he says at last. “Just letting loose a little bit.”

Yoongi scoffs, so softly that Nari takes a moment to realise. “What have you been the last two hours then?”

“Keeping your date company,” he shoots back calmly. “Good thing I didn’t bring one, turns out.”

On her other side, Yoongi nods, his jaw hard and his tongue in his cheek. “Not by choice, though.”

Namjoon freezes and even Nari winces inwardly. In front of her, Seokjin purses his lips as though bracing himself for something, while Hoseok openly flinches with his entire face.

“Is that what this is?” Namjoon asks after a moment, looking around at them. “You’re… what? Trying to keep tabs on how much I’m drinking because I went through a break-up?”

“Of course not,” says Seokjin the same time that Hoseok says, “Not exactly.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “I’m doing a lot better than him,” he points out, gesturing at Hoseok, whose face is a brilliant red and is gently swaying next to Seokjin.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights at being called out, before his face relaxes slightly. “Ah, don’t feel bad, Namjoon,” he slurs slightly, placing a sympathetic hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “We’ve all had fights with girlfriends, so we - we get it,” he says, gesturing towards all three of them.

Yoongi scoffs again. “Yeah, except we don’t make it everybody else’s problem.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. “Yoongi,” he snaps admonishingly, sneaking a hesitant glance at Namjoon.

“I need some air,” he mutters, not looking at Yoongi. He places his glass on the bar in a deliberate motion and makes a show of displaying his empty hands to everyone, before leaving their small circle and striding away.

There’s some truly awkward silence while Nari sips at her drink for lack of anything better to do. Seokjin is still giving Yoongi a pointed look that the latter is avoiding while Hoseok, rocks back and forth on his feet before letting out a loud breath.

“Okayyy,” he says slowly. “So, I’m going to go find Chaeyoung. You know… make sure she’s doing okay and everything.” Nodding at his own words, he walks away in careful, straight steps.

Nari immediately foresees further discomfort, whether or not either Seokjin or Yoongi leave next, so beats them to it. “And I’m going to go…” She looks around hopefully, spotting Seulgi with Jungkook and deciding that even that is a better pair to be with right now. “... somewhere else.”

Yoongi avoids Seokjin’s gaze, interrupted briefly as he watches Nari walk away, before it returns to him.

“You really had to go there? We all know why he is in such a bad mood,” says Seokjin sternly, “but why the hell are you?”

Yoongi can’t bring himself to respond, for the answer is simply too ironic. The image of Miso walking away from him, her face when she’d first seen Sera speak to him, and her stinging rejection of his desire to help her make him want to yell into a dark tunnel.

Seokjin shakes his head in disappointment and walks off, leaving Yoongi alone to stew in his hideous mixture of anger and stress, and now guilt and shame. His feet take the lead, directing him automatically to Namjoon who has stepped outside near the smoking zone, both his hands in his pockets.

Yoongi stops beside him, half-hoping he’ll walk away. But he doesn’t; in fact, it doesn’t even seem like he’s registered the presence of another person.

“It’s a lot of second-hand smoke,” remarks Yoongi weakly. When Namjoon doesn’t respond, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Namjoon shakes his head once, slowly, presumably indicating his acknowledgement. Yoongi nods and is about to leave, except now that this topic has been broached, he can’t seem to follow his usual habit of not prying.

“I don’t get it, though,” he says, trying his best to be gentle. “How bad was this fight that she broke up with you? Is it the long-distance thing again? Because you’re on tour? I mean, it’s understandable that -”

“It wasn’t a fight,” interrupts Namjoon, not looking at him. “And she didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her.”

Yoongi frowns, for none of them would have guessed that. “What?” he exclaims, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Why?” 

Namjoon is quiet for so long that Yoongi thinks he may not answer at all. “Someone broke into her house,” he answers finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

A ripple of shock flows through Yoongi. “What? Like… by a burglar?”

“No. By fans. Our fans,” he clarifies, clearer now. “My - “ He breaks off, his tongue sharp in his cheek.

Yoongi remembers the few weeks of intense scrutiny and stress in the aftermath of that leaked video. It’s not hard to put two and two together. “Oh, shit,” he mutters, feeling another stab of guilt he wasn’t expecting to feel tonight. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s…” Namjoon trails away, then shrugs. “They didn’t hurt her this time.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Wait… is that why you ended it?” He tries to keep his tone neutral but isn’t sure he’s succeeded. 

“I had to. This can’t happen again.” There’s a note of finality in the way he says it, and Yoongi knows he’s not meant to argue with him. He bites his lip as he watches Namjoon, his jaw tight and his eyes frozen straight ahead.

“How - how did she take it?”

He makes a sound of defeat. “She hates me.”

Yoongi tries to picture Kaya - beautiful, mature, dusky-skinned Kaya with adoring eyes when she looks at her taller boyfriend - hating Namjoon, and he decides he can’t. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She’s probably angry, maybe -”

“Oh, she is. But I don’t care.” He does a double take at Yoongi, then looks away. “I mean… of course I care… but she’s safe. She’s angry but she’s safe.” He swallows and continues looking resolutely ahead. “I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her.”

Something in the way he says it makes Yoongi feel extremely sorry for Namjoon. The logic of his decision aside, it occurs to Yoongi how his twenty-six year old leader probably wrestled with this alone, and suddenly his jab at the bar seems extremely petty.

“Namjoon…” he begins, feeling distinctly like a bad friend and brother, “why didn’t you tell us?”

He shakes his head. “We’re on tour. And it’s not your problem.” He says it matter-of-factly, a moment before he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his thumb and middle finger against them. “But I’m sorry,” he adds. “I haven’t - I haven’t been a good leader.” He sniffs and exhales, not responding to Yoongi’s resolute shake of the head. “I’ll be inside in a minute,” he says, giving Yoongi a momentary glance.

Yoongi nods and grips his shoulder supportively before heading inside. The hall suddenly seems too small, too crowded and too stifling. He needs a cigarette, he decides, and heads to the lobby after checking that it’s devoid of photographers or fans. He passes by the powder rooms on the way to the coat check, when the door opens and Miso steps out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Oh.” He halts, not knowing what more to say to her. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but apparently thinks better of it, side-stepping him and starting to walk away.

Namjoon’s words play in his mind. I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her. It’s not the same situation, but it’s enough to spur Yoongi into action.

“Miso -” He waits until she turns around, then grabs her hand and motions towards the coat room. “Just one second,” he insists, immensely relieved when she rolls her eyes and follows him. Closing the door behind her and surrounded by designer shrugs, wraps and summer jackets, Yoongi finally breathes.

“You are impossible,” she states, but there’s less anger and more exasperation in her tone. “I swear, Min Suga, sometimes you act like you have nothing better to do than -”

Yoongi interrupts her. “I don’t care if you’re angry,” he declares.

She looks taken aback for a second at being cut off, but then her eyes narrow. “Excuse me?” she asks icily.

He hesitates; somehow, the words sounded far more impactful and heroic when Namjoon uttered them. “I just mean…” He closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts. He really doesn’t want to go overboard. “I don’t want you… to be angry with me. I’m not trying to make you angry but… Miso, I’m not afraid of your parents, okay?”

Miso sighs. “Yoongi -”

“And if I should be, at least tell me why,” he continues. “Because asking me to forget about it or pretend it doesn’t exist is not working. If you’re afraid of your mother, then -”

“I’m not afraid of her,” she blurts out, sighing and placing her hands on her hips before dropping them to her sides. “God, Min Suga… I can’t believe you’re making me say this. Do you remember that time I told you that my mother was sleeping with my twenty-four year old maths tutor?”

Yoongi frowns in surprise, remembering a cold night outside the Big Hit studio, shared cigarettes and mutual bickering. “Uh… yeah. You said you made that up,” he reminds her.

She gives him a look. “Obviously, you know I didn’t. She was sleeping with him… but I was sleeping with him first.” She doesn’t give Yoongi time to process this statement. “Right before I left for Australia? I was in a… situation with a classmate of mine. But then I ended it with him because I found my mom’s earring in his car and I left the country.”

Yoongi’s throat feels stuck. “What are you -”

“My mother was very young when she got married. My father ignores her. She craves attention, especially when it’s someone else’s.” Miso shakes her head and looks away. “And for some reason, she’s got it in her head that I’m her competition,” she finishes in a low voice.

There’s something she isn’t saying, but it’s also clear from the way she folds her arms across her chest that she isn’t going to. Something tugs at Yoongi’s heart as he watches Miso stare defiantly at something behind him, until her eyes dart up to him and she rolls them.

“Jesus, don’t make me spell this out, Min Suga,” she snaps, dropping her arms. “Just… do what I ask and stay away.” She doesn’t move, though, her hard gaze subsiding.

Yoongi closes his fingers into a fist to make sure his hand stays at his side. “You have nothing to worry about,” he says softly. 

Miso’s eyes flicker. “I’m not worried about anything.” But the annoyance and chagrin is fading and unlike every time she’s held his gaze while making some sort of sarcastic point, this time she’s struggling to hold it with the same confidence.

“Good.” His fingers loosen and he lets them. “You shouldn’t be.” He just about registers the statement dawning on her before he steps forward and kisses her, one hand in her hair and the other hovering against her elbow.

He can tell she wasn’t expecting it so he waits for her, waits until the shock wears off and she hesitantly responds, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips slowly increasing in pressure. He opens his mouth against hers only when she does, euphoric that she’s finally, finally telling him something. 

She tilts her head up a bit more and places one hand on his chest for support, and Yoongi gently clutches her hair, suddenly resonating so desperately with Namjoon’s words.

The door of the coat room opens then and Miso jerks away from him. Both their heads whip around to see Nari in the doorway, the surprise in her face already fading away when she sees Yoongi. With a quiet scoff, she steps back and pushes the door shut again.

Miso lets out a shaky breath. “Shit. Who was that?”

“Nari. She’s a friend. Don’t worry,” he adds when she turns slowly towards him again. “She won’t tell anyone.”

She nods and Yoongi realises his hand is still in her hair. He retrieves it with care, his heart still racing with what just transpired. Miso bites her lower lip as her gaze falls to the floor, licking her lips before she looks up at him again.

“Min Suga,” she murmurs, pursing her lips slightly. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the pit of disappointment in his stomach. “Too late.”

She shakes her head slightly but doesn’t look angry, or sad, or afraid. But there’s something in her eyes, something conflicted that convinces Yoongi not to regret his impulsive act. She reaches up and rubs the side of his lower lip with her thumb and he has to stop himself from taking her wrist. The skin is clear now but the memory of the bruise around it, something he’s now sure he knows the cause of, stays burned in his mind.

“Wait a couple minutes before you leave, okay?” She raises her eyebrows until he eventually nods, watching her as she slips out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

Alone, Yoongi muffles a groan into his hands. He obeys her, though, counting down the seconds until he deems it appropriate to leave. On his way back to that wretched party, however, he’s accosted by someone.

“Yoongi!” Kang Sera gives him a pearly smile, still guarded, still assessing. “What a coincidence. I haven’t seen Miso around for a while - would you have any idea where she is?”

Yoongi shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Oh. Never mind.” She tilts her head slightly and her eyes soften. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer I made, though. It would be so nice to have one of Miso’s friends over for dinner.”

He imagines admitting to Miso that she might be onto something, imagines the smugness that would accompany her response. She would be insufferable at his admission and for some reason, the thought excites him immensely.

“Thank you, ma’am, but that looks a little difficult. Have a good night.” He bows before she can say anything and continues past her, feeling more energetic than he has the whole night, his lips tingling.

—

Jungkook glances backwards at the appetiser station longingly, wishing they weren’t on tour so he wouldn't have to simply watch people eat. As fancy as the menu looks, they still haven’t served dinner and he is famished. Luckily, he’d managed to sneak in a protein bar in his jacket on Taehyung’s advice and in a fortunate turn of events, the coat room is out of the way enough from the main hall that they can break the rules.

He marches in a straight line, head down and careful not to draw any attention. Sneaking around the attendant at the desk, he slides towards the door, only to see it slightly ajar. He moves to open it a little further when he hears a voice inside - crying.

Or not crying, exactly, but there’s a shaking of the voice and some sniffling, and Jungkook feels his insides cringe at the awkwardness of catching someone in a moment of vulnerability. His stomach rumbles again at that moment and he closes his eyes, knowing he needs that protein bar before he snaps and swallows a tempura roll whole in public.

“- everyone else!” The voice cries, the voice high-pitched yet in a clear effort to not be loud. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying, but you -” The voice, a woman’s pauses, and Jungkook can hear the garbled sound of a response through a phone speaker, sounding far calmer than her.

“But everyone else is here! You didn’t come for the Spring Gala last month and now this - it’s so embarrassing every time!” She pauses again and scoffs. “She’s fine! How does that matter? Is she all you care about?” There’s another pause and a sniffle before the woman responds, this time sounding far more annoyed. “She has some friend here, apparently. Doesn’t seem very impressive,” she adds in a mutter.

Jungkook wonders if he can sneak in anyway. The hunger is killing him and this woman seems so invested in her phone call that she might not notice him at all. Biting his lip and holding his breath, he slips into the dim room and looks around for his jacket. There are rows of clothing, though, and he hasn’t a clue how to locate his own.

“You said that last time, too! Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” There’s the sound of a response again, followed by the unmistakable click of the call ending. The woman sniffles again but stops abruptly. “Is someone there?” she asks sharply.

Jungkook freezes, but before he can devise a way out, the woman appears from behind a row of coats and glares at him through red eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I was just looking for my, um -” He looks around desperately, hoping his black jacket will pop out to him from the sea of other black jackets.

To his surprise, the woman simply shakes her head and dabs at the corner of her eye with a knuckle. She’s beautiful, in an old-fashioned, seventies movie kind of way, her dress dripping with diamonds. Terribly uncomfortable, Jungkook clears his throat. 

“Are - are you okay?” he ventures bravely.

She turns away and sniffs again. “Fine. Just alone.” 

She says no more and Jungkook takes that as his opportunity to get the hell out of here, protein bar be damned. He can survive a few more minutes before dinner; he’s survived worse. 

“Well, I’ll just…” He trails off and makes a beeline for the door when she turns to him again. He halts, trying not to look too panicked at the sight of his exit behind her.

“You look familiar,” she states, frowning slightly. She smells of something vaguely sweet. It’s not perfume; it takes him a moment to realise she smells like Jimin - like cocktails. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers, although she looks somewhat familiar as well, like one of the many faces on the socialite pages in Seoul’s local newspapers.

She gives him a watery smile. “Pity.” She reaches out and smooths down the collar of his shirt. “Such a handsome boy. I knew so many like you when I was your age. I’m sure you have a girlfriend, though.”

Jungkook shakes his head wordlessly, feeling his ears and neck heat up. She’s really close, this woman. Her nails are painted a calm nude and her cheeks and nose are rosy, probably from the crying. 

“Imagine that,” she murmurs, reaching up and kissing him. Jungkook is too shocked to move, freezing in his spot and feeling with staggering clarity her lips against his, the taste of her lipstick and her hand cupping his neck. It takes a few more seconds for it to click and the horror to settle in, and he immediately steps away.

“Sorry, I - I’m not…” Unable to form a full response, Jungkook passes around her and dashes out of the coat room.

—

Nari hurries out of the hotel, welcoming the slight chill of the evening and the fresh air after the pervasive goldenness of the hall. She’ll miss the dinner but nothing is worth staying another second at the most boring party she’s ever been to.

“Nari!”

She ignores Seokjin and continues on her way, eager to make it past the gate to where Jason will pick her up. She hears him shout her name again but doesn’t turn until she hears his footsteps right behind her and he suddenly comes into view.

“You’re leaving?” He sounds slightly breathless. “Already?”

“Seokjin, this has been a crappy night and I really don’t want to do this with you, okay?” she states and tries to skirt around him but he stops her.

“What? What did I do?” he asks, looking genuinely baffled. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all night but you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. Then I thought I should probably leave you alone because I saw you with Namjoon and then Yoongi for a little while -”

“You want to know what you did?” Nari feels as though she might burst. “How about setting me up on a date without asking me?”

Seokjin frowns in bewilderment. “Who are you - wait, are you talking about Yoongi?”

“How about setting me up on the worst date of my life, with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me all night?” she continues, ignoring him because now that she’s begun, she can’t seem to stop. “And then there’s Namjoon, who seems borderline suicidal, while Yoongi is making out with some girl in a coat closet and Hoseok seems to be on the verge of passing out while you’re -”

“Okay, wait, wait - hold on!” He interrupts her, looking thoroughly confused. He doesn’t speak until Nari falls silent. “Who was Yoongi kissing?” Nari turns to leave in a huff but Seokjin grabs her arm again. “And also… I’m confused. I thought you liked Yoongi.”

“I do like Yoongi. He’s a good guy - but a terrible date,” she informs him. “And I can’t believe you’d set me up with him! It’s like you don’t know anything about me - when have he and I ever had anything in common?”

“But -” Seokjin shakes his head. “Nari, I didn’t set you up. You said you wanted to go and he had an extra ticket, so I suggested he check with you. That’s all.”

Nari swallows, her heartbeat loud in her ears. “Yeah… he checked with me and asked me to go with him?”

“On a date?” Seokjin doesn’t look convinced. “Did he actually say it was a date?”

“Yes, he - oh, my God. He didn’t.” She freezes and covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God.” Did she just imagine a date? She feels light-headed, suddenly reminded that she hasn’t slept properly in thirty hours. Her stomach crawls in embarrassment and she squeezes her eyes shut before turning around on the spot and starting to walk away in bigger steps.

“No. No way.” Seokjin darts in front of her again. “You don’t get to be mad at me and yell at me for something I didn’t even do.”

“Oh, believe me, I know this was all me, okay?” She shudders, unable to meet his eyes out of sheer humiliation. “I’m leaving. We’re on the same page.”

“No, we aren’t. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Tough. Move, Seokjin.”

“Nari -” He grabs her shoulders for one moment, stopping her in her tracks before releasing her. “You are mad at me. You’re mad at me about something but you don’t want to talk about it, so you’re just looking for other reasons to be mad at me, just so you can be mad at me. But I’m done,” he declares, and she hasn’t seen him look this serious in a long time. “I’m done being your punching bag and I’m done letting you chew me out until you tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

Her heart races uncomfortably. “Seokjin… I’m sorry I blamed you, okay? But I… nothing’s bothering me. I just want to leave.”

“Bullshit.” He fixes her with a look, his jaw sharp and his eyebrows slanted. “For heaven’s sake, Nari. Seventeen years. We’ve been friends for seventeen years - what is so bad that you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not… bad.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t do anything wrong!” she blurts out, frustrated. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeats. “But I’m mad at you anyway, which means this is my problem. I can’t tell you because… because you can’t do anything about it.”

Seokjin swallows. “Tell me anyway,” he says quietly.

There’s a loaded silence between them and Nari knows it’s because they’ve reached the crux of the issue, the thing they’ve been avoiding all this time.  

But maybe this is it. Maybe this is the time. It would make a mess of everything, but maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would become easier if she put it into words, if she took a risk and stepped over the line once in her life.

Taking a step forward, she takes a deep breath. Her hands go up to his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, only an inch above her own. She bravely meets his gaze. He isn’t stopping her, or stepping away. His eyes flicker, and it’s anticipation. Nari glances from his eyes to his mouth, pink and plush, and touches it with her thumb before moving closer.

Do it. Every cell in her body wants to do it, to take the plunge and deal with whatever comes out of it. But even as she talks herself into it, her heart sinks because she knows, she knows that despite what she feels, it will make no difference if she drags him down with her, if she is the reason he becomes a cheater. So, she drops her hands from his face and steps back, feeling her heart bang against her ribcage painfully.

“Nari - ”

“I wish,” she says, looking at the ground as she searches her heart for the moment it all went wrong. “I wish… that after you kissed me at Hyeri’s house… I wish I hadn’t left.”

The last word lingers in the night. “So stay now,” he murmurs, almost pleadingly.

But Nari shakes her head. “It’s not really the same thing. It’s fine, Seokjin. Really.” She takes a deep breath. “I need to sleep anyway.”

Seokjin looks like he wants to argue, but doesn’t. “How are you getting home?”

“A friend is picking me up.” She doesn’t mention a name but something in how he nods makes her quite certain that he knows she means Jason. “I’ll just…” She trails off when she sees someone else behind him. “Jungkook?”

Seokjin frowns and turns around and they both see Jungkook ambling out of the hotel, looking dazed. “Oi, Jungkook!” Seokjin exclaims when he doesn’t answer.

Jungkook’s head snaps up, and he looks slightly unfocused. “Hey,” he mutters, trudging over to them.

“Are you okay?” Nari asks, observing his quiet demeanour.

He nods immediately. “Yeah, yeah. Just… not feeling well.” 

He’s clearly lying, but Nari doesn’t pry. “Okay. I’ll drop you home in that case. Come on.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he nods gratefully. “Yes, please.” He looks over at Seokjin. “I already told Namjoon hyung and he said we don’t have any pictures left…”

“Go,” agrees Seokjin, glancing at Nari. “And… take care.”

Nari doesn’t move for a moment, sharing a look with Seokjin before following Jungkook out of the gate.

—

“Careful, careful…” 

Chaeyoung takes careful, deliberate steps as she helps Hoseok up the steps. Her heels dangle from one hand and his shoes dangle from one of his, from when he’d insisted on taking them off because he didn’t believe that she should be the only one barefoot.

“That’s not what it means to be a date,” he’d slurred as they crossed the street to her apartment building a few minutes ago.

Chaeyoung had given up on trying to make him put them on, focusing instead on ensuring that his phone, house keys and car keys were with her, along with her own belongings, and getting him into her apartment in one piece.

“I still don’t understand why you kept drinking,” she says admonishingly as they begin ascending the last flight of stairs. “Just because one guy says he won drinking games in college doesn’t mean you make it your mission to compete with him. Especially when you’re clearly out of your depth.”

“Hey, now wait a minute,” he replies, his words flowing into each other. “I didn’t do it for fun. I did it for a good reason.”

“Which is?”

“That he was being an obnoxious jerk.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes as they reach her doorstep. Fumbling a little with her keys, she manages to open the door and drag Hoseok inside, who stumbles into her tiny living room and flops onto the couch.

“Is it just me or is it sweltering?” he asks, taking off his jacket and groaning.

“It’s just you,” she confirms, chucking her heels to the corner and heading inside to the kitchen. “Don’t move,” she instructs him on her way out. “I’m going to get you some water.”

Hoseok smiles dreamily in acknowledgement. “Careful, caterpillar. You’re starting to sound like an adult.” But his tone is filled with fondness and endearment, enough that Chaeyoung is willing to overlook the ancient nickname.

“I am an adult,” she informs him, returning with a bottle of water and dropping it softly into his lap. He leans back and grins up at her, cheeks red and hair ruffled. “In fact, after tonight, I think I’m the adult here,” she points out, sitting down next to him. “Drink.”

He obeys without fuss, downing almost half the bottle before emerging breathlessly. “Wow, that was…” He glances at the bottle and squints “... cold.”

“It’s summer.”

“Thanks.” He sighs hugely. “Okay, I’m going to take off.”

“Wait, what?”

But Hoseok is already standing before he halts, swaying slightly before stumbling into Chaeyoung when she stands up to stop him.

“You are wasted, Hoseok,” she reminds him, pushing against him to make him sit back down. “Unless you can get one of your friends to come pick you up, you’re not going anywhere. I didn’t drive your gigantic car all the way here just for you to crash it into a lamp post.”

He pouts. “Buzzkill.”

Chaeyoung sticks her tongue out at him but is relieved when he doesn’t argue further. “You should lie down or something, oppa,” she tells him.

To her surprise, he nods, looking drained and on the verge of passing out. “I should,” he agrees weakly.

“Come on,” she says, standing up and helping him up. She steers him to her bedroom, glad he’s taken off his shoes and jacket already. “Why don’t you lie down and I’ll see if -” She breaks off when he falls on the bed onto his stomach, groaning.

Chaeyoung purses her lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have any clothes that will fit you.”

“Issokay,” he mumbles into the pillow, his eyes already fluttering shut before he opens them with some effort. “Don’t you want to sleep, too?”

“Yeah, I will.” She pauses, taking a moment to register how absurd this would be to ten year old Chaeyoung; taking care of Hoseok, the love of her life, because he got drunk trying to keep up with every person she talked to tonight. “Hoseok,” she says after a moment, her own voice sounding slightly different. “I’m going to get you the rest of that water and one of those Pop Tarts you brought me back from America. You shouldn’t sleep on an empty stomach. Okay?”

He cracks a smile, his eyes still closed. “You smell nice.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t bother suppressing her smile at that. When she returns from the kitchen, Hoseok is asleep.

—

Hoseok wakes up the next morning and immediately wishes he was asleep again. His head pounds with a vengeance and his stomach feels bloated and empty at the same time. As soon as he thinks it, he feels the bile in his throat and immediately scrambles out of the room and into the hallway bathroom, and throws up all the contents in his stomach.

Ten minutes later, after puking his guts out and lying down with his forehead pressed to the cool tiles, he emerges from the bathroom and shuffles into the kitchen and dining area. Chaeyoung is scrambling eggs and the smell of fresh coffee wafts from the machine in the corner.

“Wow,” she comments, looking up with the spatula in her hand. “You look like hell, Hoseok.”

He responds noncommittally and sits at the small table, dropping his head onto his arms. He remembers two things right then: the first, that he has dance practice starting in exactly one hour, and the second, 

“Would you like some eggs?” she asks cheerily. “There’s coffee, too.”

“How are you not drunk?” he demands, raising his head and wincing.

She glances back at him with a frown. “Because I didn’t drink enough for a whole army? I was able to come home, change, drink water, scroll through Instagram for a while and wake up after a nice sleep.”

Hoseok is about to remark that he must have been dead to the world to not notice her awake when he catches a glimpse of the sofa. “Wait,” he says slowly, taking in the pillow and folded covers. “You slept on the sofa?”

Chaeyoung shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

“But -” His shoulders fall. “I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own room. You could’ve slept there, too - there was  enough room.”

“Yeah, I thought about it, but I didn’t want it to be accidentally weird this morning,” she reasons calmly, bringing him a mug of black coffee with ice floating in it. “And the sofa is totally comfortable. So don’t worry about it.”

“But -”

“Eggs?”

He opens his mouth to continue arguing but stops. “Yes, please,” he mutters sheepishly. “Thanks, Chae. Really. I owe you one.”

“Even after the braces and schnapps thing?”

“Especially after that.”

She grins and places a plate of toast and scrambled eggs before him. “Eat. You’ll need the energy. Especially if you were serious about the whole Harry Potter marathon thing. Actually,” she adds, frowning, “don’t you have dance practice?”

“Um -” It’s a simple question but he can’t seem to answer it. “Why?”

“I distinctly remember you mentioning it to me in the car. I definitely remember you warning Namjoon not to be late or you’d throw a shoe at him,” she adds dryly. “If it helps, he promised he would do his best to be on time.”

“Huh.” The schedule is on his phone; Hoseok suddenly remembers he hasn’t seen it at all this morning.

“Your phone is on the centre table,” she supplies, pre-empting his question when a soft ding sounds. “Oh, that’s the Pop Tarts.” Both of them leave the table in opposite directions. 

Hoseok checks his messages and then his calendar. Yep, dance practice in forty-five minutes. He bites his lip; while he is feeling remarkably better than he had when he’d woken up this morning, his head still feels a bit heavy and his throat feels dry as sawdust, despite the coffee.

Just then, his phone pings.

Jimin [8:15] Leaving in 5. Suga hyung, Namjoon and Jungkook are already in the building. What’s your ETA?

It’s a good question. If he’s planning to drive his car home, shower, change and then leave, he might make it on time by the skin of his teeth. 

“Everything okay?” Chaeyoung asks from the dining table, legs long and lean in her cotton shorts as she leans slightly over the table and places the Pop Tarts in the centre.

Then there’s the alternative. Chaeyoung’s sofa, Chaeyoung’s food, Chaeyoung’s Harry Potter marathon. He wonders how he would ever justify it to himself when he realises he already has.

Hobi [8:18] Threw up this morning. Might have food poisoning. I’ll try to come in after lunch. Sorry.

Sending it, he slides the phone into his pocket and tugs open the collar of his dress shirt. “No practice,” he says as he returns to the table. He returns Chaeyoung’s surprised expression with a shrug. “This is good toast, by the way.”

She beams, taking a bite of her own. “Thanks.”

Hoseok grins back, feeling his stomach do a backflip. “Now,” he says, dusting the crumbs off his hands, “when are we starting this marathon?”

—

#seokjin x oc #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x oc #hoseok x oc #hoseok fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jin fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts suga angst #bts jin angst #bts jhope fanfic

[bangtanhoneys]

just gimme them babies - grace chu

Big Hit had been teasing something for the past few weeks. Cute images were posted across their social media and everyone started to expect that there was another Grace album coming, even though BTS were amid a comeback. Twitter was aflame with all the ideas and ARMY were trying to see if anything could be hidden in the images by zooming in. 

Then on a Friday night, a link was uploaded. 

It was a YouTube video which was going to premiere on Sunday afternoon in South Korea. The title of the video: ‘Grace Chu - Here In My Arms Mini-Album (Official Live Performance).’ This puzzled ARMY and the rest of the world even more as it had been a while since the mini album had been released, on the seven-year anniversary of Seokjin and Grace’s relationship. 

For Grace, the whole performance was giving her a mixed bag of emotions. 

Unbeknownst to everyone, it was the first of many ‘last’ performances from Grace until she went on maternity leave. Eighteen weeks pregnant and the bump was now full on display, though cleverly hidden by style choices in the early days, but it was getting harder to conceal. It was getting harder to sing and dance, unable to pull off the choreography like she used to. 

A meeting had been called to put a plan in motion for BTS to continue their comeback, with Grace still present, but not doing the performances. Her voice would be there, she would still do the interviews and the press conferences and a doctor would be on hand at all times. When 25 weeks came around, she would be put on rest. But for now, while she could still perform, she was going to give ARMY a treat.

A ‘see you later’ treat and a way to announce her pregnancy. 

HYBE’s top floor had been cleared and re-done, back to the very basics but hints of pastel colours - ivory, pink, purple, green, yellow, blues, etc. The band that had played with Yoongi during his D-Day tour was drafted in and they, along with Grace, had come up with a small set-list that would do what it needed to do - say goodbye but oh, pregnant!

She was nervous as the hours to the premiere ticked down. The K-Pop world could be unpredictable when it came to idols and their private relationships. Their reaction to her and Seokjin had been more than favourable, but this was something different altogether. They weren’t married and the pregnancy had been kind of wanted but also a major surprise. 

It had been a major surprise to all the boys when they were given their uncle hoodies. 

Grace had banned them from being at HYBE on the day of the performance. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them there but they were a distraction, having already seen the set the day before and were causing chaos with the flowers that had been brought in. Well, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Hobi had been causing chaos. Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin had been causing chaos by going over the lyrics. 

There were a few swear words and obviously, the lyrics were sexually suggestive but that’s why this would be a one-off and never done again. 

The minutes were ticking by and Grace let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her stomach where there was a slight fluttering. She was standing in the middle of the set, the band behind her with a small orchestra, all dressed in various colours while she was dressed in a pink sparkly dress. 

It had been designed to be loose, to hide the bump until she was ready to reveal it. Any camera on her wouldn’t be able to tell that she was 18 weeks pregnant, ready to tell the world what she was expecting. 

As the premiere ended and the official performance began, ARMY was shocked to see Bang-PD pop up in a recording that had been filmed the day before. 

“I’m pleased to introduce to you all, Grace Chu, our female member of Bangtan Sonyeondan. We hope you all enjoy the performance of this amazing album even if we’re a bit behind and I hope to see you all in the comments.”

It was puzzling and anyone translating had commented that it was such an odd thing to say. Some were beginning to worry that it was going to spell the end of BTS as they knew it.

Finally, the cameras switched for ARMY to see Grace standing here, microphone in hand as the band and orchestra started the intro notes to Positions. The comments started going crazy with everyone watching, each trying to get Grace’s attention, not realising she couldn’t exactly see them. 

The boys, however, in Namjoon’s apartment had the performance on his wide-screen TV and could see the comments coming in real-time. Jimin was running a commentary as he held his phone in his hand, his screen showing the comments only as the rest watched along. 

They were just as nervous, Seokjin more so. This was going to be a big day with the world knowing their most private news and it was either going to be bad or it was going to be very good. In this idol/K-Pop world, it was hard to know. 

So far the comments had been exploding over her voice, how she was glowing and there had been one or two comments who had already suspected what was happening.

“Ah ARMY aren’t stupid,” Jimin laughed as he pointed out the comment he had quickly screenshotted before it disappeared. “They said this is giving baby vibes and then the other comment said she’s going to announce she’s pregnant, putting money on it.”

“Is there a reason she picked a pink dress?” Yoongi asked, already making note of the particular colour.

Seokjin shrugged, accepting the bowl of food from Hobi who had been sorting out their takeaway food. “I have no idea, we haven’t had a gender scan yet. I think the stylists said it was the only material they had which would hide her bump.”

Yoongi didn’t quite believe it, nor did Seokjin who knew the exact reasoning behind it all.

It was then the most important song came, the boys and everyone holding their breath because it was going to happen within seconds. Staff were ready to start banning, and even lawyers were on standby to start suing. 

34+35 started playing, all eyes on the screen as Grace took a breath and stood from the chair she had been sitting in from the previous performance of Safety Net. 

“You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin.' If I put it quite plainly,” she turned sideways to the camera and smoothed the dress to the now obvious eighteen week bump, “just gimme them babies.”

The internet went into utter melt down. Grace carried on with the song, completely unaware of what was happening across various social media pages. All she saw was a thumbs up from Sejin. 

Pink confetti started raining down as she got towards the end of the song, finally revealing to the world and to the boys what gender it was. 

“You liar!” Yoongi yelled, pointing a finger at a grinning Seokjin.

“Ah I technically wasn’t lying, the stylist did pick that material for a reason,” the father of a soon-to-be baby girl pointed out, ignoring the rest as they clamoured around him for hugs. Jungkook was crying into Namjoon’s chest, blubbering how he was going to be the best big brother ever. 

At the end of the performance, at the end of the video, Grace gave the camera finger hearts and patted her stomach with a smile on her face. The screen faded to black with pink wording: Bangtan Baby. Coming April. See you soon.

#bts 8th member #bts eighth member #bts additional member #bts female member #bts fic #seokjin x oc #bangtanbaby

[anxious-dumpling]

♡ Fandoms: BTS!

♡ Genre: SFW Littlespace, One-shot, Fluff!

One day, you're invited onto a shoot with BTS called, 'BTS Meets a Little for the First Time'.

(2,300 words.)

Notes: In this universe, Littlespace is permanent. If you don't know much about Littlespace, please research the topic elsewhere, since this story doesn't reflect how Littlespace functions in real life! Thank you!

When the director's countdown reaches zero, Kim Namjoon puts on a pleasant smile and begins greeting the camera in English.

"Hello, everyone! We are-!"

"Bangtan Sonyeondan!"

"And today we are gunna be meeting a Little for the very first time."

The interviewer watches them from behind the camera, holding a clipboard of simple questions for the seven K-Pop stars. When Hello82 first contacted BTS's managers and proposed an interview with them, they knew they had to accept. The concept of Littlespace has been getting more attention on the internet recently after a celebrity mentioned it during a live show, so they're hopping on the trend.

"How much do you know about Littlepsace?" The interviewer asks in English.

Namjoon translates quickly.

Hoseok pulls a cheeky grin and exaggeratedly points down at Taehyung.

"Him!" He says in English. "Him. Yeah."

Namjoon chuckles, his cheeks punctuated with two charming dimples. "Yes. Taehyung has been doing a lot of extensive googling about this topic before we got here."

"Little bit." Taehyung smiles shyly, pinching his fingers together.

"I think he would be the most knowledgeable out of all of us, to be honest. He loves kids, you know, so this is like his time to shine."

"And you guys have never met a Little before, right?"

"That's right."

"Are you excited?"

Namjoon repeats the question in Korean, and all seven members answer with varying degrees of enthusiasm, from Jimin and Taehyung clapping with cheesy grins, to Yoongi and Jungkook just smiling mildly.

"Okay, great. Well, today we have a very special guest who has kindly come from the Seoul Littlespace Care Centre with her Caregiver, Park Jongsuk, to see you." They give a small round of applause. "And to make things interesting, we are going to be putting you into three groups and giving you some challenges to complete." Ah, Jinjja?, Jungkook mutters. "You will have to attempt to feed her her favorite food, receive a hug from her, and make her laugh. The group to succeed in all three of these challenges will win."

"Woooow," They all exclaim, looking around at one another.

Jimin raises his hand, speaking in Korean. "I think she will like me the most."

"Yah," Seokjin leans forward. "I don't want to hear an amateur speaking on this matter. I deal with you guys all day, so how should this be much different? Tsk. Exactly. No doubt I'll win her over."

Hoseok barks a laugh, grabbing Jimin's shoulders while he doubles over with embarrassed giggles.

"He-" Namjoon laughs, trying to translate his bandmates' silliness, "He's saying he will win because he has experience dealing with the younger ones in the group."

"Shall we bring her out?"

He smiles. "Yeah, let's do it."

Be calm,��you think to yourself, Jongsuk said they're nice!

Your caregiver leads you around the corner and into the filming studio. You squeeze his hand, using your other to tug nervously on your piggy tail. All of a sudden, three men in front of the camera greet you with bright smiles and exclamations of Gwiyeooo.

He leads you to sit on the fluffy white rug with them and sets you in his lap.

"Hello," Jongsuk says softly in Korean, bowing slightly.

The men copy his greeting. You eye them curiously, tilting your head. The one sitting closest to you and your caregiver is Kim Seokjin. You recognise him from the photocards the studio gave you to prepare for today. In the picture, he had brown hair, but you see now that he actually has pink hair! Wow. You want to reach out and touch it to see if it feels as soft as cherry blossoms, so that's exactly what you do.

He rises from his bow with a shocked chuckle.

"Aish, sweetie, hands to yourself." Jongsuk gently chides, pulling your hand back into your lap. "I guess that's her way of greeting you."

"Hello." Jin mutters sweetly, giving you a small wave. He tilts his head toward you, letting you tug on his hair again.

The two other men scoot forward, offering you some more greetings. The one in the middle is Hoseok, and he's got a lovely smile. The one beside him is Namjoon, and he's big and scary and has muscles, but he's also got a lovely smile, so you don't get up and run away just yet. Jongsuk promised you that his new friends are all very nice, remember!

You let go of Jin's hair and nervously fiddle with your sweater, making them laugh.

"You're scaring her already!" Hoseok jokingly scolds Namjoon. "Don't ruin our chances!"

"She's shy around new people." Jongsuk explains, grabbing your hands and bouncing them around playfully. "Isn't that right?"

You nod, staring Namjoon down. 

"Has she done anything like this before?" He asks.

"We've actually worked with Baby Cloud on a few videos in the past, but this is her first proper interview-style video."

"And she speaks...?"

"Korean and English." He answers.

"Ah. Korean and English."

"Hi." Hoseok smiles at you in English.

"Say hi." Jongsuk encourages you.

"Hi, Hoseok-Samchon." You obidiently greet, using the title Samchon just like Jongsuk taught you, which roughly means Uncle.

You didn't think it was possible, but Hoseok looks even happier when you say that. You think he might've swallowed the sun for breakfast this morning. "Aaaah. Hi!"

"Hi, Seokjin-Samchon." You continue, offering a small bow. "Hi, Namjoon-Samchon."

"Hi," They both respond excitedly.

"Are you hungry, Jagiya?" Seokjin asks you. "We hear you like banana bread."

That's one of your favourite treats!

"Banana bread?!"

"Yeah!" He reaches behind him and pulls a packaged slice of banana bread from the coffee table, carefully tearing it open.

Jongsuk suggests, "You wanna go sit with Seokjin-Samchon?"

You think about it for a second. Hm. Then you nod. You like Jin's hair and he has a tasty snack for you, so of course you'll sit with him. You rise from Jongsuk's lap and plop down in Seokjin's instead, which is very spacious and comfy, opening your mouth eagerly.

"Aaaaah," He mirrors you, popping a piece of bread on your tongue. "Mmmmm. Good?"

You nod enthusiastically, grabbing for more.

"Aigooo, finish the piece in your mouth first." He exclaims, making you giggle.

"He's a natural." Hoseok exclaims in surprise.

"So, what does she normally eat?" Namjoon asks.

"Well, we feed her according to her mental age, which mostly ranges from two to six," Jongsuk answers, "So, you know, mashed fruits, boiled vegetables, yoghurts, but sometimes bigger meals. Meat, rice, stews. And tteokbokki. She loooooves tteokbokki."

"She doesn't have trouble using chopsticks?"

"Hmm... Sometimes. Her motor skills are mostly that of an adult's, but applying them can be challenging when you're in the mental state of a two or six year old, you know, so we sometimes have to help her with that. Or we get her children's chopsticks."

"Ah."

"Some people think she might have poor hand-eye coordination or something like that, but she doesn't."

Hoseok listens with interest. "So, physically, she's not on par with a child?"

"Correct. Unless you count chemicals and hormones in the brain," He jokes.

"And her height," Giggles Namjoon.

"Hey. Can Seokjin-Samchon have a hug?"

Without even thinking, you wrap your arms around Seokjin and he returns it, hugging you tightly.

"Gwiyeooooo," They all say at the same time.

Then Hoseok tries feeding you the banana bread while Seokjin and Namjoon ask Jongsuk some more questions. They're curious, because you're not like them. You're as tall as an adult, you look like an adult, but you know you're not really an adult. You like to play with stuffed animals and watch cartoons. You can't drive a car, get a job, or use a bank card. You don't even live in a normal house!

Not until you find a family, at least. But most people don't want a Little. They want a real child.

Once you've taken a piece of bread from each of them, they all clap lightly, making you smile around your stuffed cheeks.

"Well, team Hyung," The interviewer says, "I think you succeeded in all three challenges."

"Yaaaaaay!"

Hoseok gives you a gentle double high-five.

Jongsuk was right! These new friends are great. They're friendly, they're gentle, and one of them even has pink hair!

The second group comes out after the first leaves, making you a little sad.

"Hi, Yoongi-Samchon," You shyly greet them as they sit on the rug, "Hi, Jimin-Samchon."

Yoongi gives a shallow bow, while Jimin grins and leans forward, offering you a high five like Hoseok did. Ah! His face is suuuuper close to yours! You shrink back into Jongsuk, shaking your head nervously. The poor man giggles and turns red at your rejection, covering his face.

"Aigoo," He exclaims, "I'm sorrrrrryyyy!"

Yelling?! Why's he yelling? His loud voice disturbs you even more, and just like that, your eyes are stinging and filling with tears.

"No, no, no, please don't cry," Jimin panics. "Oh, no. We just sat down!"

"Jimin-ah," Yoongi laughs, "You're awful at this."

"It's okay," Your caregiver laughs along with him as he wipes your eyes. "Oh, it's okay. Jimin-Samchon didn't mean it."

Jimin tells you in English, "I'm sorryyyy."

"Here, you want some yoghurt? Strawberry yoghurt?" Yoongi reaches behind him for a small tub of pink yoghurt and a spoon. He rips the seal off and Jongsuk pushes you off his lap, encouraging you to go over to Yoongi. "Here. Come here."

Sniffling, you kneel down beside Yoongi. He opens his mouth and you copy him.

"Shuuuuuuu," He does the areoplane with the spoon, and you eat the yoghurt with no problems.

"Aish," Jimin flops onto his back dramatically. "Hyung, what's your secret?"

Jongsuk pats him on the shoulder.

As Jimin sits back up, he opens his arms and wiggles his fingers, asking for a hug.

You get back up and run behind the camera.

"Aigoooooo," Yoongi hits him with the spoon. "Look what you've done."

The interviewer chuckles. "Okay, I think we should move onto the next group."

"I'm sorry, Jagiyaaaaa." Jimin pouts.

Seokjin cackles at him from the back of the room.

The final group is Taehyung-Samchon and Jungkook-Samchon. When they enter, they make sure to keep their voices low and their movements small, not wanting to make Jimin's mistake of being too loud. Taehyung's smile almost takes up his whole face.

"Helloooo," He says in English as the two of them sit down. "My name is Taehyungie. Nice to meet you."

"Hi, Taehyungie-Samchon." You mutter. "Hi, Jungkook-Samchon."

"Hello." Jungkook also says in English.

They offer polite greetings to Jongsuk as well, and then Taehyung pulls a watermelon flavored lollipop from his shirt pocket and takes the plastic off, offering the candy to you with a warm expression. How did he know that's your favorite flavor of candy?

You take it from him and pop it in your mouth, making him clap giddily and pet your knee. "Yaaaay."

Jungkook laughs. "Hey, you can't bribe her with candies!"

Tae ignores him, keeping all his attention on you.

The interviewer asks, "Taehyung, was this part of your research?"

"I watched all the Baby Cloud videos she's been in," He explains, "And I saw that the watermelon candies were always her favorite."

"Smart." Jongsuk praises him.

While you suck on the candy, Taehyung shows you a stuffed animal plush that was on the coffee table, and Jungkook asks, "So, is this what her everyday life is like? She doesn't ever... I don't know, behave like an adult?"

"Right. Her brain is perfectly healthy, and she's perfectly smart, but she'll always function within the emotional range of a child."

"Ah. Okay."

"It can take a bit of getting used to, can't it?"

He hesitates for a moment, not wanting to say anything offensive. "Uuhhh. A little bit."

"I understand that. I mean, it can be hard to grasp the fact that she's not pretending or exaggerating. But this is just how her brain works."

"Do people think she's pretending?"

"All the time. They keep waiting for her to snap out of it or drop the act, but of course, it won't ever happen."

"Mmm." He hums thoughtfully, gazing at you.

"Can Taehyungie-Samchon have a cuddle, Jagiya?" He asks you nicely, opening his arms.

You scoot over to him and give him a short, loose hug just to be nice, because he gave you a candy.

"Aaah, thank youuuuuu."

"You're welcome, Taehyungie-Samchon."

"Good manners, Jagiya." Your caregiver smiles at you. "What about Jungkookie-Samchon? Does he get a hug?"

"Mmmm...." You look at Jungkook's heavily tattooed arm and his facial piercings, shaking your head. "No."

All three of them laugh at your blunt answer.

"Alright, I think that concludes this segment."

Taehyung waves goodbye to the camera with you. "Buh-byeeeeee."

"So, what did you guys think of this experience?"

"So cute!" Hoseok exclaims, his Korean accent thickening under his excitement. "Her- Her face. Awww. So cute! Right?"

"Well, Jimin wouldn't know anything about that," Jin sasses, turning to his junior, "Because you made her cry, didn't you?!"

"Aigo," He groans, "I didn't mean to."

"Can you believe this guy?"

The interviewer swiftly cuts off their shenanigans. "Team three - Taehyung and Jungkook - managed to get two points during their segment. Taehyung expertly charmed her with a candy, and received a hug. Team two, however..."

Laughter breaks out among the seven members.

"Only received one point. They impressed us by upsetting her in record time, but Yoongi saved it with the strawberry yoghurt."

The mentioned man gives the camera a smug thumbs up, while the younger of the two continues to fake-sob dramatically.

"That leaves team three as our winner!"

"That's right!" Jin shouts suddenly in English, clapping loudly. "That's right! What I tell you, huh?!"

"After a small hiccup in the beginning, she managed to overcome her nervousness thanks to the help of her charming Jin-Samchon, and happily ate some banana bread with all three members. They also made her laugh and received a hug! Well done!"

"Well done," Namjoon repeats with a smile, clapping along with everyone. "Thank you for letting us meet her."

"Thank you, Hello 82!" 

"Thank you!"

As they bow and wave goodbye to ARMY, the video comes to an end.

#bts #bts army #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts jimin #bts jungkook #seokjin #namjoon #jungkook #taehyung #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #bts seokjin #hoseok x reader #bts hoseok #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x oc #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #namjoon x oc #hoseok x you #taehyung x you

[abcketchup]

Seokjin x reader

Drabbles, Bakery au!

Warning: None.

Wc: I don't count for this one, but I think it's pretty short around 1k ~ 2k something.

A/n: I had this from 16 NOV 2021. Now it's out and become another commitment of mine to finish. I don't even have any title for this.

*********

You really want to sell all of your possessions just to gain some money to buy this damn bakery. Sadly, your possession is not that much worth money- mostly your clothes were bought from a pile of bundles with the most affordable price at 5 bucks which you went crazy and ecstatic at the time.

Anyway, you really love that bakery, they make the most delicious pastry ever! Bonus, the owner, Mrs. Dora is really kind to you. Always give you the warmest bread and a hug (yes, bread comes first).

Talking to you fondly with warm gaze and motherly caress. But all of that will be gone. It's gone. Soon. Why?

Because, one day in a warm, peaceful evening. You were peacefully arranging the freshly baked pastry for display when Mrs. Dora decided to break the news.

"Sweetie, soon I'll sell this bakery. Because now, I have enough money to live my dream life! In my dream house with the love of my life." She sighed blissfully. Her hand skillfully kneading the dough, the result of years of working.

You froze after she said that. She didn't mean...

"What about me madam?" you timidly ask. Well, she should think about her staff, right? Because you know she is the kindest person you ever met, she will not just abandon you like that right?

"Hm? What about you?" Mrs. Dora tilted her head, confused.

You flounder after yourself, "I mean if you sell this bakery, what about me?" timidly you piped, shoulder slumped, "Am I fired?"

Mrs. Dora, who was kneading the dough for the second time, was startled and nearly spilled flour everywhere., "Oh my god, no! No sweetie, of course not." She quickly comforts you.

"You will still be working here. It will be just a change of ownership; thus, you will be getting a new boss!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"He's incredibly gorgeous and a true gentleman! How fortunate you are to have him as your boss, y/n! If my hubby was that old grouchy and I wasn't pursuing my dream, I would snatch him for marriage in no time!" Somehow you could feel the heated jealousy glare from behind where her husband doing his job.

Sulkily you said, "But I would rather have you, madam." You pout, hands twirling around the rug, "I am comfortable with you." not knowing your words tugging her heart- or maybe you know, either way.

"Oh, sweetie," she eyes you guiltily, "Don't say it like that. You made me want to take back the agreement," - "Please do!" you interject, "I can't sweetie. He already paid for this bakery." Mrs. Dora shakes her head pitifully.

"Don't worry y/n, I vouch with my husband's name that he is really a good person. He will take care of you and this bakery." The said husband was shocked, turning his head with his side-eyed beloved wife, who was oblivious to his side-eyed stare.

"Ah, he also would make for a good husband," she winks.

************************************************************************

And that was the last thing she said to you.

Not only had Mrs. Dora betrayed you (you personally think she is, even if she's not), but she even didn't tell you last month, whereas yesterday, was her last day.

And now, you are facing this handsome stranger, with his printed cat apron on, claiming that he's the new owner here. And apparently, his name is "Kim Seokjin." And he wanted you to "Please, take care of me."

What the hell.

Out of instinct, you turn around. Wanted to bolt out of the scene as soon as possible.

"Wait!" No, you can't. It seems like your legs have their own minds, running as fast as they can.

Yet, you still are no match with his long leg, easily catching up to you, and pulling your elbow. "You're y/n, right?" he huffed, ah not really athletic.

"How do you know?" You didn't remember telling him anything, except for the greeting of little 'good morning'.

"Mrs. Dora once showed me your picture." He explained. Not only did she betray you, but she also spread your picture around (only this Kim Seokjin).

"She said that you will help me manage this bakery." Ah, also decided without you. Who said that you're going to still work here? (you will though).

"I didn't agree to anything. Hell, she didn't tell me anything. Except for this sudden new owner." You clarify, pulling back your arms from his grip. Now, that you are aware he's been chasing you with his cat-printed apron, catching some eyes from the passerby. (He still looks good, how unfair.)

"I didn't even know that it was today that the new owner came in." you huffed, steering a little to the side so as to not block people from walking, "She didn't even say goodbye." You mumbled, lips pouting a little bit as you felt upset. You really do adore the old woman and his husband.

They took care of you a lot. Even though you are a clumsy and slow worker. Always timid and not really sociable, always have problems to handle customers. They always let you work around the bakery, cleaning and organizing. Always give you some warm bread even though you know you are not much help. Always pay you, sometimes more than your worth. That's why when they left you like this, it's upset you more than you thought.

"Ah", his eyes wide in realization, "I was supposed to come in the next few weeks, but Mrs. Dora seemed to have some urgency in her hometown and asked me for help to look after the bakery for a few days." He scratches his neck awkwardly. "And I thought it would be nice to familiarize myself with the bakery."

"Mrs. Dora said that I just have to ask you anything regarding the bakery. You have worked for her for a long time now." He added. That caught you off guard. Yes, you did work for a long time, but all you did was the bare minimum.

"Well, yeah." You paused, before you slowly started, "But basically, all I did was clean around the bakery. And organize the fresh bread or something like that. Not much really. I don't think that I would be any help." you admit, somehow ashamed. And yet, his reaction is the opposite of what you think he would be.

"That would be great though! Let's go now, I just left the bakery with Jimin, and we should open now!"

Okay, wait, now who is Jimin?

***

a/n: this is just for fun. I don't think anyone would read this shshsh

#bts fic #bts fluff imagines #bts fluff au #bts seokjin #bts kim seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin x oc #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin fluff #bts seokjin fluff #bts jin #jin fluff #jin x y/n #jin x oc #jin x reader #bts bakery au #bakery au #bakery seokjin

[flowerwrites06]

space — ksj

SPACE | KIM SEOKJIN | Requested by Anon.

Plot: Date nights were rare in their relationship but they made it work. Friction begins when Seokjin refuses to have one. Pairing: Businessman!Seokjin x Lecturer!Akira Type: General Fiction | Angst Rating: Mature Word Count: 1.2k+ Warnings: angst, break-up concerns, relationship friction, arguments. Author’s Note: hope you enjoy this drabble! There's only one day left before requests close, send your ideas in!

Busy schedules were a normal part of their lives. Seokjin had to deal multiple conferences, reports, clients and business partners until his brain felt raw from use. Akira had lectures, grading, research papers and meetings until she couldn’t form another sentence by the end of the month.

Except there was always a few days where they were able to make a trip for themselves. Revive the frayed strings of their relationship, be with one another and feel rejuvenated again before the toils of daily work rushed back again.

Akira was particularly excited about this coming trip since it would be the last time she would see Seokjin before he had to go on his own business trip for three weeks. By the time Seokjin would get home, Akira had exam season, leaving her to a solitude that she couldn’t come out of until the holidays. She wanted this trip to be perfect.

Except Seokjin and his business partners had different ideas.

“They want to go on another trip?” Akira asked, gently rubbing hand cream between her palms as they readied for bed. Seokjin already sat on his side, taking off his glasses after skimming through some paperwork. “But we promised to do a few date nights before you left.”

“They’re my friends and business partners.” Seokjin shrugged, shifting under the blankets. The glow of the lamp painted his skin gold. “We can do a date another time, I can’t deny them.” He shook his head.

“Yes you can. Tell them you won’t be able to see me for another two months.” Akira climbed on the bed, lifting her nightdress. Speaking out the time made her heart sink even further. They were so busy in the last four months and a couple of their conversations were too similar to this. Heated arguments. Even her friends were starting to give advice on how to either find professional help or leave.

Akira hated it but a part of her began to think of the latter. Exhaustion set in so deeply these few days that even she started to wonder whether it would be easier for them to split. Especially since even Seokjin seemed to be rescheduling their time without realizing how precious it was. Perhaps it was only precious to her now and an inconvenience to him.

Seokjin scoffed, keeping a smile because he didn’t like fighting but the non-chalance of it hurt her. “I will see you after that month. It’s not necessary for us to rush into a date night.”

“But don’t you want to spend some time with me before you leave?” Akira asked, with less confidence.

“Not when you’re being like this.”

Akira stayed silent, the slight ache forming into a lump in her throat. “Like what?”

“Like this, pushy and clingy, I may as well just hang out with my business partners and feel relaxed.” Seokjin waved his hand.

Akira’s heart dropped, her body curled in on itself when her own fears became realized. She rubbed in between her brows with a sigh, trying to sway away the burning behind her eyes. “I am being pushy because this is getting hard. If you think that I’m being too clingy then maybe you don’t want to keep doing this anymore.”

Seokjin’s stomach lurched, expression softened. “I didn’t mean it like that, Akira.” He tried to let out a small laugh even though panic settled in his belly. He tried to reach out and touch the back of her hand but she moved away. “Hey—”

But Akira already climbed off the bed, grabbed her pillow and laptop and made way to the door.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, softer. Without laughing. “We still need to talk about this.”

“The decision is already made, isn’t it?” Akira asked. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“Akira.” Seokjin sighed. Guilt lingered at the back of his mind as he lay down properly on the bed. The urge to go after her immediately was strong but he was the one who implied that space was the option.

Of course, he wasn’t thrilled about bailing on their rare date nights to talk to his business partners but saying no had consequences. Less deals, less opportunities. Seokjin couldn’t pass them up if it did arrive. Akira should’ve known that and understood that he needed to go. But maybe she did understand and this was the best option without anyone getting sidelined.

It wasn’t like Seokjin was giving them a better option. Just keep working and no date nights until the next two or even three months? And then call his girlfriend clingy when she isn’t happy about it?

Seokjin hated that Akira was already on board with leaving because it meant these thoughts were simmering for a while. Did he ever think about it? Even if he didn’t think he did, he must’ve made it seem like it was a thought on his mind. Tonight was nothing to prove it wrong at least. But he didn’t want to leave.

His eyes could barely close without feeling the familiar warmth next to him, the soft breathing when she reached deep sleep. How she kept a hand close to him to hold. The same hand she pulled away because there was no reason to keep letting him hold it. Panic turned to hurt in his chest.

Three hours had passed and Seokjin barely had a wink of sleep. “Fuck,” he whispered and lifted his heavy body off the bed.

The light was off in the living room with a small lamp at the end of the room. Akira slept on the couch, her body curled and her head rested on the pillow and her body covered by a throw blanket. Her hair strands perched over her face, splayed in small waves across the cotton pillowcase.

Seokjin walked closer, crouched in front of her and gently brushed away the strands from her face. Her breathing was soft and slow. The same breathing he was used to listening next to him. Guilt tightened around him. She fell asleep thinking he didn’t want her close to him anymore.

Seokjin leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Baby?” He whispered, fingers softly tracing the edge of her hairline, framing her ear where a small diamond stud glimmered.

Akira hummed faintly in response but didn’t move.

Seokjin squeezed himself on the couch, gently placing his arms around Akira so half her body rested atop him. Her head gently rested on his chest as she squirmed.

“Seokjin,” Akira whined but her body still lay atop of him, head rested on his chest.

Seokjin kissed the edge of her hairline. “I’m sorry. You weren’t being clingy.” He kissed again. “I love you.”

Akira sighed, and then slowly traced her fingers against his jawline. Her heart felt a wave of relief hearing those words again, tears formed, small pearlets forming on the corners of her eyes. “I love you too.”

Seokjin pressed small pecks on the tips of her fingers. “I’ll reschedule the meeting during the business trip,” he said.

Akira lifted her head to look at him. “Are you sure?”

Seokjin leaned again and pressed a kiss on her lips. “I’m sure.” He traced his fingers down her arm, keeping her close and tight to his chest. “I don’t wanna be without you. Always be right here.”

Akira smiled against his chest and snuggled further into his skin. “I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”  

masterlist

#seokjin #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts drabble #bts ff #bts fic #bts x oc #seokjin x oc #seokjin drabble