thisiswherewestart

[thisiswherewestart]

I Remember (1/?)

Today had started out like any other Tuesday. I had woken up, logged in to work remotely for a few hours and then moved to a café for a change of scenery and to grab some lunch.

I usually frequented cafés close by my apartment, but my friend had highly recommended this quaint, newly opened one with an extensive pasta menu that was a half-hour train ride away. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a sucker for good pasta, and her rave review of their squid ink spaghetti had haunted me for the past week.

And so there I was on a Tuesday afternoon, after checking that they welcomed lingering customers. My laptop sat open across from me so I could monitor my inbox and I surveyed the simple decorations that created a homely ambiance. The fact that I was the only customer helped complete the serene scene. If this café were within walking distance, I would come again just for the atmosphere.

Ten minutes after giving my order to the waiter, my food finally arrived. The dark sauce coated the noodles beautifully, the seafood peeking out between the long strands making my mouth salivate in anticipation. As I picked up my fork, a tinkle of a bell sounded from the café entrance.

"Hello," a soft but confident voice greeted the approaching waiter. "One salmon aglio olio to go please. Thanks."

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. My back was to the entrance but I would recognise that voice even in a noisy room.

"Tasha?"

And that confirmed it. It was him.

"Dongyoung," I greeted, standing and turning around to face the man. "It's been a while."

"When did you come back to Korea?" His tone was accusing now.

"How are you? How's Taeyong? How are the kids?" I shot out question after question, hoping he would forget the one he had asked.

"We're all fine. When did you come back?"

So much for that.

"Oppa…"

"Don't you 'oppa' me. We're basically the same age."

I sighed, dropping onto my seat and turning away from him. "I've been back for a year now."

He took the seat opposite me. Uninvited, but not unexpected.

"One year." The hurt in his voice made me wince. "A whole year and you didn't bother to call."

"Dongyoung, please."

His laugh was void of mirth. "So we're back to this, huh? The last time I saw you, you exclusively called me Doie."

I looked up at him.

"I guess that's what four years of silence does between friends."

*~*

"Five, six, seven, eight…"

The 7th Sense NCT U unit was made up of my favourite fellow trainees. 

Mark, who was the same age as my little brother whom I dearly missed. His naive sense of humour and bright eyed wonder had me growing fond of him in no time at all. Our shared love of story writing also brought us closer, as we encouraged each other to keep up with writing even as we were busy with idol training. He was my happy pill during our years as trainees together.

Ten, my fellow international school kid. We were different in that he came from money while I was the daughter of a diplomat. PSA: not all diplomats are wealthy! They are still government officers and don't earn nearly as much as you think they do. One of the perks was getting subsidised education, which made it possible for my siblings and I to attend international schools in non-English speaking countries we lived in. Ten and I hadn't known each other prior to becoming trainees, but he and I found that we just clicked. We even found several mutual friends in our international school networks.

Jaehyun and I took a little longer to warm up to each other. I was a fairly quiet person, only talkative around people I was comfortable with, so I was never one to initiate conversation. Jaehyun never approached me to start talking either, so a few months after we first met, our relationship had not progressed beyond a polite greeting when we bumped into each other. It took Taeyong to help us break the ice, but once we got to talking we found that our interests overlapped and they were the foundation to our pretty solid friendship.

Taeyong is the one trainee to whom I’m most grateful. I entered the company shortly after he did, and he seemed to decide to take me under his wing upon our first meeting. It didn’t matter that our training schedules didn’t overlap; he would always check in on me and help me when I struggled with getting dance moves memorised. In time, as Taeyong started writing and producing more songs, he would include me in his process and get me to record demos with him and Dongyoung.

Dongyoung was an enigma to me. I knew he had a kind heart because he would do things like invite foreign trainees home during holidays so they would have somewhere to go. I could see the warmth in his interactions with other trainees but he was only ever cordial to me, so I always thought he did not like me very much. It was, once again, thanks to Taeyong that we got closer. Dongyoung and I were both vocalists, but I dabbled in some rapping and Taeyong seemed to enjoy writing songs that featured the three of us. Studio sessions with the two of them became some of my favourite memories of my time as a trainee.

I was looking through the lyrics of the latest song Taeyong had written when the group finished their practice run and paused for a water break.

“Tash,” Taeyong greeted as he flopped down next to me, leaning his back on the cool mirror.

“You guys are looking really good,” I praised, handing him a water bottle. “The modifications you guys made last week improved the overall performance a lot.”

“Right? I’m so glad the choreographer let us do that.”

Dongyoung approached us, sitting on my other side. I passed him the last of my stock of water bottles. “Hey.”

“I’m beat,” he sighed. “But we look good right?”

“Yeah I was just saying that.”

The three of us sat in amicable silence for a few moments, the two of them gulping down the cool water as I finished perusing Taeyong’s lyrics. I shut my eyes as my thoughts turned to my own debut, or lack thereof, and my family’s increasing worries. 

“Hey, you okay?” I opened my eyes to find Dongyoung peering at me in concern.

I gave him a half smile. “I guess.”

“You’ll debut soon,” Taeyong assured me, guessing the subject of my thoughts correctly. I appreciated his vote of confidence, but we all knew that was a lie, at least if I stayed at SM. Having debuted Red Velvet two years ago, it was highly improbable that they would debut another girl group so soon. And besides, they were all tied up in NCT’s official debut, with two U units, 127 and Dream all training hard to perfect their debut performances.

“We should probably get back to training,” Taeyong said apologetically. His eyes were kind as he briefly grasped my shoulder with a comforting hand before standing up. “Tell me what you think of that song later,” he nodded at the printed lyrics in my hand. “I want your verse by the end of the week!”

Dongyoung sat studying my expression for a bit longer.

“I’m fine, Doie. Really.” I pushed his shoulder gently. “Go. They’re waiting for you.”

“We’ll go out to eat after this, okay?” he offered, standing. “We can get pasta. My treat.”

“Man after my own heart,” I proclaimed, clutching my chest in jest.

He grinned as he walked to his starting position. 

I watched as Taeyong counted the boys into yet another rehearsal. Meeting Dongyoung's eyes in the practice room mirror, I could see the nerves he increasingly felt but rarely showed for their debut performance, only seven days from now. I smiled as brightly as I could, hoping he couldn't tell my heart was breaking knowing I would be leaving in five.

*~*

The Doyoung that sat before me today was a fully fledged kpop star, hair perfectly coiffed and clothes fitting his comfortable but stylish lookbook. He had truly grown into his looks, and seeing him was making my heart ache. With pride? With longing? I didn't even know myself. I had just started developing maybe-more-than-friends feelings towards him when I had found myself back with my family.

"You look good. Healthy."

"Where have you been for the last four years, Natasha?"

His use of my entire first name hurt more than I expected. Was this how he felt when I called him Dongyoung?

"I went back home."

"As in back to your home country?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

"Why? And don't tell me it's because you didn't debut with Red Velvet."

"You're kidding, right?" It was my turn to laugh humourlessly. "Has SM debuted another girl group since then?"

"Well no, but-"

"Don't say they might have added me to the group like they did Yeri. When I left, it had been one year since that happened and two years since they debuted!"

"But why did you have to leave?" Doyoung's voice was rising. "You could have moved to another company. You know you had the skills to debut."

"I just… had to, okay?" 

I guess he heard the pleading in my voice because he switched to another line of questioning after studying me for a minute.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice was quiet. “Taeyong and me, especially,” he sighed. “We missed you. We still miss you.”

“I’m sorry. I know it was shitty of me but I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of me leaving.” I did not want to give you guys the chance to persuade me to stay.

There was a pause. “Did you miss us?”

Tears I thought had dried up years ago threatened to fall. “You have no idea how much,” I whispered, willing myself not to cry.

“Oh I think I do-”

“At least you guys had each other,” I blurted.��

“Excuse me?” Doyoung narrowed his eyes at me. “We were not the ones who stopped talking to you! I called until your number went out of service! And then we looked for you online but there was absolutely nothing. Why did you fall off the grid completely?”

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by the waiter bringing Doyoung his food. Doyoung thanked him and handed him a card. “I’ll take care of her bill as well.”

“Don’t,” I protested. We were in the middle of an argument and he still wanted to take care of me. “Just charge him for his food, please,” I asked the waiter.

“I’ll pay for her,” Doyoung insisted. “Thank you.”

The waiter left, an awkward smile on his face as he retreated.

“I have to go now, so we’ll put a pin in this conversation.” Doyoung stared hard at me until I nodded my assent. "Does anyone know you're back?"

I shook my head. "I work in software now. I don't run in the same circles anymore."

"You know we have these things called phones, right?" He gestured at his Samsung with exaggerated motions. "They're amazing. You can connect with anyone, anywhere. Even if they're in a different country." He looked at me pointedly.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know I could have, should have, kept in touch but I just… I couldn't."

"Why?"

A million reasons. "I don't want to get into it right now."

"Fine. But you know I'll keep asking until I get answers."

I smiled, thinking about his habit of persistently badgering us until he got what he wanted. "I know."

"In fact," he grabbed my phone, which had been lying next to my rapidly cooling plate of pasta. "I'm going to call myself so I have your number."

Before I could protest, he had held my phone up to unlock it with my face and was dialling.

"Wait, I-"

He clicked the dial button and automatically put the phone up to his ear, before slowly lowering it again, staring at the screen in disbelief.

"So you kept my number. This whole time. And you still never called."

I didn’t know what to say to that. All I could do was apologise again. “I-”

“Just save it, Tash.” He put my phone back on the table. “I’m going now. Pick up when I call, okay?”

“I don’t like talking on the phone. Can you text me instead?” I joked, trying to keep my tone light.

“Do not test me,” Doyoung glowered. “Answer when I call.”

“Okay,” I murmured, but he was already walking to the counter to pick up his card.

He left without looking back.

#nct #nct fic #doyoung #doyoung fic #nct scenarios

[thisiswherewestart]

Bring Around the Pain | ONE

The night was still and silent as he made his way down the poorly illuminated road. No one cared about this part of town - only those who had no place better to be stuck around, and it was only recently that he had become a part of them.

The worn soles of his sneakers pounded against the dusty pavement, startling the population of rats scouring the overloaded bins for food. All his life he had been warned to avoid the very place he was heading to now, and he clenched his hands into fists to prevent them from shaking. He had made a decision and was going to stick to it. Kihun was many things, but a fluke was not one of them.

He kept his hood up and his eyes trained on his path. It would probably be a good idea to survey his surroundings from time to time - it was, after all, the neighbourhood with the highest crime rate in the country - but his solid build and scowling face were, for the moment at least, enough to keep any potential attackers at bay.

One more corner and he was there. A sign flickered in a graffitied doorway, informing him that the place was once called The Cinder Block but he doubted anything was left of the old establishment. He pushed open the dented metal door - an indication that a fight had taken place there who knows how long ago - and trudged down the stairs in almost pure darkness. Reaching the bottom, he was faced with a bouncer who made his own person look like a basket of kittens. Uttering the phrase that he had gone to great lengths to procure granted him entry and with a nod that said 'Nice doing business with you', he stepped into the packed room.

A hundred faces turned to scrutinise the newcomer; some he recognised, most he did not. He searched the room, only caring about one group of people. There they were, the kings of the underground, Bring Around the Pain, otherwise known as B.A.P.

They weren't around most of the time - they only came back two to three times a year - but when they did, you could expect something big to happen. While (most) people in this part of town rejoiced, everyone else made sure all their doors were locked and their homes secure.

Word on the street was that this year, they were looking for some fresh meat to mould into the next leaders to keep the hierarchy in place while they were off maintaining their business elsewhere. That meant that they would be staying for longer than the usual couple of weeks - training was going to last a few months at the very least. Everyone who lived by their laws had come out tonight to see if there was any truth to this rumour, from the wannabe Gs to the dons of the drug cartels whose empires could almost match up to the power and influence of B.A.P's local hold.

The six in power scanned the newcomer in reserved curiosity. He was a fresh face in a sea full of people they had grown up with, and they were immediately suspicious of him. In a neighbourhood like this, everyone had ulterior motives - for all they knew, he could be a hired gun employed to get close to them and take them out. A background check would later be ordered to make sure he wasn't a (big) threat.

"Welcome, brothers and sisters." Kihun recognised the speaker as BYG, the fearsome leader of the band. He had a deep authoritative voice that made you sit up and listen, and with that one greeting, he held his audience captive to his words. "You are all gathered here today because you have heard, I'm sure, that we have some important business to take care of while we're here in town.

"B.A.P started out small, in a community that was disorderly, dysfunctional, and in dire need of a system of some kind. As time wore on and we built up our reputation, people grew to respect us and we managed to implement a chain of respect around here.

"Now, we've come to a decision that will affect all of you. Over the years, we as a group have dipped into various ventures, some legit, others... not so." A few titters and smirks rippled through the crowd. "Our success has forced us to travel and each time we come back home, we've noticed things slipping slowly back to the way they were.

"That is the reason why we are now looking for deputies. People who will lead and keep everyone in check. You all know your place - don't step out of line."

The second in command, Himchan, Kihun recalled, took over from there.

"The way the deputies will be chosen is a tournament. 8 preliminary rounds, 8 contenders who will move on to the quarter finals. Then we have the semi-finals and then of course the grand final.

"Whoever wins rises to the top. They will run this town in our absence and they will be our point of contact. Depending on how well the others do during the course of the tournament, we may or may not appoint more deputies who will be in charge of different sectors."

Murmurs broke out through the crowd. Even the slowest of the attendees recognised this as a chance for anyone to get instant power. Kihun let a sardonic grin flash across his face before returning to his previous stoic state. He may have been new to this scene, but he was familiar with the way towns like these worked; he would prove to these hardened men and women that he was not one to be messed with.

Himchan let the talking die down before continuing. “Anyone can participate in the preliminaries. You will be tested on combat skills” – that was a given – “mental agility and the ability to produce results efficiently and effectively. The first six rounds will each be designed and judged by each of us,” the second in command gestured to his comrades, “meaning those who move on from those rounds will be our respective champions, and the final two will centre on missions. Our judgment is final: everyone who passes will deserve to do so, and any objections to our decisions can fester quietly in your brains.”

The last sentence was pronounced so jovially, some might have thought the man was joking but for the way his smile didn’t quite reach his cold and calculating eyes. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that there would be serious consequences for any poor soul who decided to question the Six.

“Now,” BYG spoke again. “In case any of you have forgotten who we are and what we do, we’re going to outline what you should expect from each of our challenges. Don’t think for a second that we are spoon feeding you.” His eyes swept across the room. “Oh no, no, no. We’re just telling you what we specialise in. How we make up the tournament is our prerogative.”

Letting that sink in, he glanced over to his far right and nodded at the member sitting there. His floppy purple hair was characteristic of the trend in many East Asian countries, where black had been deemed boring and trying out different hair colours had become the ‘in’ thing. He stood and bowed, greeting their audience with respect, something that was usually lacking in this world.

He faced the gathering with a blank expression for a few moments before starting to speak.

“Hello, I am Moon Jongup. I will be testing your physical strength and how well you can perform in hand to hand combat.” He cracked his neck, an action that distinctly contrasted the innocent look on his face. “I look forward to sparring with you.”

There was a stunned silence as uneasiness crawled through everyone who had considered applying. They would have to go head on with the Moon Jongup? There was bound to be more than a few broken bones after his round of the tournament. They could only hope that his would not be the very first.

The young man bowed again and BYG nodded at the next member to step forward. His hair was jet black but styled impeccably, with every strand in its appropriate place to highlight his best features.

Grinning widely, he began, “Hello, I am Jung Daehyun. I hesitate to say this, but I guess you could say I specialise in people. If this were a corporation, I would be head of HR. In order to find our deputies, I will be assessing your powers of persuasion and the way you conduct yourself under pressure.”

Daehyun would definitely be one to impress. If he likened himself to the head of HR, that meant that he would have a lot of say in who the deputies were. His round would likely still be used in the overall assessment of the candidates at the end of the competition, so it was crucial to do well.

The next member to speak was Himchan, whose brooding eyes held your attention when he spoke. His specialty was instruments of modern warfare. Knowledge of firearms was a must in this circle, and his tests would assess your knowledge, skill and potential with a range of different ones.

“Yoo Youngjae at your service.” The following member saluted the crowd. “Knowledge is power, and we cannot have a deputy who is ignorant of what we stand for and what we do. I will be the one testing your mental agility.”

The final member of the six had been lounging against the wall, but with a signal from the leader he straightened to his full height. Though the youngest, he was the tallest of the lot and had an undeniable presence. Kihun appraised him, wondering whether he ought to give the kid more credit than he was at that moment.

“I like money. Don’t you?” A murmur of agreement rose from the audience. “We deal with a lot of money and we need someone who knows their way around account books, amongst other things, to keep the local businesses in check.”

“Is that all, Zelo?” BYG shot him a look.

“Uh, yeah?” he looked quizzically back at his leader, not understanding what BYG was trying to get at. Until it hit him. “Oh of course! I’m also looking for a potential techie, someone who will be under my management directly and who will help run large scale operations. Therefore during my session, you will have a choice between working with money and hacking the secure network of a major corporation.  Despite the different criteria, I will not be declaring two champions.”

And finally BYG spoke of his assessment. “My round… will be a secret. You will see what I want you to do when you get to where I want you to be.”

Kihun’s Adam’s apple travelled up and down his neck as he gulped. There were rumours surrounding the leader that led one to believe that he may have a sporadically sadistic nature, and Kihun could only hope that, if true, that side of him would not make an appearance for this tournament.

A final bow by the six, and then “Meeting adjourned,” BYG declared. The door through which Kihun had entered flew open to let people out. It seemed that was the only way in or out of this place.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Zelo’s cheeky voice rang through the space, halting the crowd in their tracks. “If you’re debating whether or not you want to participate in our little tournament, you better make a decision fast.” His eyes flashed with unconcealed excitement. “The first round starts in three hours.”

#bap #b.a.p #bap fanfic #bap fanfiction #bap scenarios #yongguk #himchan #daehyun #youngjae #jongup #zelo #sorry for the lame ass title

[thisiswherewestart]

OMG. THAT JIMIN FIC. OMF OMG. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hahah glad you liked it ^^

#answered #lost-panda

[thisiswherewestart]

Foreign Links (ft. BTS' Park Jimin)

Namjoon looked disapprovingly at Jimin. “We’re trying to form new ties with _______ (insert your country here), which will be good for our economy in the long run.”

"Okay fine," Jimin nodded. "But I don’t see why we,” he gestured emphatically, “have to perform. I mean surely someone like Park Aeri sunbaenim or even Himchan sunbae would be more appropriate.”

"K-Pop is one of Korea’s biggest exports. And it’s modern songs, not traditional ones, that sell the most overseas. Our performing the Satoori Rap shows them a part of who we are as a people too."

"I heard they’re doing a dialect performance too," Jin added, grinning. "This’ll be great - they won’t understand what we’re saying, we won’t understand what they’re saying… it’ll be just brilliant."

"Awkward is what it will be," Jimin corrected him. "Our audience is going to be a bunch of stuffy old diplomats who probably don’t even like rap."-

"You’re completely missing the point here, man," Namjoon grunted in frustration. "We-"

"Hyung, it’s your turn!" Jungkook called the leader to get his makeup done. They were slightly short on staff that day because BigHit was holding a major concert elsewhere and only a few stylists could be spared for this event. Namjoon was the last to be made up, and then it would be show time.

***

You were sitting in a corner of the bustling conference room, bored out of your mind. Your father had insisted you come, thinking everyone else was bringing their families but apparently he was the only one who didn’t get the memo that this was to be an officials only event. Consequently, you were the only one there under the age of thirty five.

Thanks a lot, dad. I could be sitting at home watching Bangtan’s new show but nooooo, you just had to drag me here. I know I said I like all things Korean, but stuffy old diplomats are definitely an exception.

There were going to be several music performances that night, but since their performers were traditional singers from before her time, you were certain the Korean performers would be much the same. You stood up and wandered around for a bit, there not being any chairs around - you were supposed to walk around and mingle - and finally just stood next to a tiny table that held a small bowl of chips. Not seeing anything better to do, you took up post at the table, slowly emptying the bowl one chip at a time.

Once you were done, you looked up only to see your father’s secretary ambling towards you. To stay or not to stay… Being the semi-socially-awkward (or maybe just antisocial) person you were, you kind of grimaced in her direction before walking away in the direction of the toilet.

***

“Jimin-ah! Hurry up, it’s almost time.”

“One second, I really need the toilet!”

***

Phew, that was a close call.

You sat down on the plush seat in the corridor leading to the toilets, slipping off your high heels and rubbing your feet together to ease the aching. Checking your wristwatch, you suppressed a groan as you saw that you had three more hours of awkwardly avoiding people to go.

Maybe I’ll head back in when the performances start. People won’t be so eager to talk then.

You kept an ear out for any signs of music playing while letting your eyes wander over the intricate designs in the wood panelling the corridor. Being an art major who was interested in architecture, you stood up to inspect the wood more closely but before you could take more than two steps, a figure ran past, almost knocking into you before disappearing into the men’s toilet.

Rude. He didn’t even say sorry.

You glared in the direction of the bathroom and then proceeded across the way, running your hands over the design, tracing the smooth finish of the wood. It wasn’t every day that you visited five-star hotels like this one, and the amount of detail put into everything amazed you. You were staring down at the design, completely lost in thought, when the boy walked back out of the toilet, breathing a sigh of content at relieving his bladder.

“Hi.”

Shit. You jumped, startled by a male voice behind you. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, words affected by an accent. “I don’t mean to. I want to say sorry for before - I hit you when I go to toilet.”

You turned slowly, not really wanting to start a conversation with someone. “It’s fine, it’s not like I wa-” You stopped short when you finally saw him clearly. “Jimin?”

“Ne?” He looked confused. Speaking in Korean, he asked, “Sorry, do I know you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t understand Korean.”

“You know me?” He pointed at you, then at himself.

“I know, um, Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

"Ah," he nodded with understanding.

"Are you performing today?"

"Sorry?"

"Are you-"

"Jimin, what’s taking you so long?" A voice you recognised as Namjoon’s hollered down the corridor. You had no idea what he had said, though you assumed he was looking for Jimin. He came through a set of doors next to the grand double doors leading back into the hall, facial expression giving away his annoyance at having to look for the vocalist. "Seriously, what are you-" He stopped when he caught sight of you. "Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise he was talking to someone."

"It’s fine," you reiterated.

"He can’t speak English very fluently."

"I know."

"It’s because we- wait, you know? What do you mean ‘you know’?"

"I know who you are," you smirked at him. “‘Rap Monster’, a.k.a Kim Namjoon, leader of Bangtan Sonyeondan, rookie idol group." It was a wonder you hadn’t spazzed out by now. Keep it cool, ________. Don’t freak them out by showing how big a fan you really are.

"Not bad." He grinned. "I wasn’t expecting to meet a fan here today."

"Hyung!" Jimin called out before you had a chance to respond. "Stop flirting with her. I saw her first!"

"Don’t worry kid, she’s not my type."

"Yah! Who are you calling a kid? I’m only one year younger than you!"

"Okay, okay," RapMon held up his hands at an attempt at a truce. He shrugged apologetically at you; you had been trying to follow the exchange with your very very basic knowledge of Korean but to no avail. "Sorry, he’s just being a bit… possessive."

You blinked, wondering if you had heard correctly. “Possessive? What do you mean?”

"I, er…" Belatedly, Namjoon realised he probably shouldn’t have given away the fact that Jimin might have a teeny crush on you. "I couldn’t really find the right word." He grinned sheepishly.

"Hyung!" Jimin was getting frustrated that his English was not up to par with the leader’s.

"Okay, okay." To you, Namjoon said, "I’m sorry, but we should go now. We’ll be performing soon."

"You will watch us?" Jimin asked you, an adorable grin accompanying the question.

How could you possibly say no? “Of course,” you assured him. “BTS hwaiting!”

They laughed at that, then waved at you as they made their way back to what you assumed was their makeshift dressing room.

Namjoon walked in first and as Jimin was about to follow suit, he stopped, turning back to you. “See you after show? We no more schedule.”

You just about died inside. Spend time with your favourite group in the world? Hell yeah! You nodded eagerly, sporting an ear-to-ear grin.

His face mirrored yours for a split second and then he was gone, ducking into the room. You hurried back to the hall, now impatient to watch the performance. You spotted your dad looking your way, his expression one of confusion.

“Why do you look so excited?" he mouthed.

“My favourite group is here!”

“What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind." You’ll see in a minute. You were pretty sure your dad would recognise whichever song Bangtan were going to perform - you played their CDs in the car often enough.

The MC for the evening, one of your dad’s staff members, cleared her throat onstage.

"Hello again. I hope everyone has had a pleasant evening so far. We are now going to begin with the first of the performances lined up today. The Bangtan Boys are a fairly new idol group from Korea who have been steadily gaining popularity and beginning to have a worldwide presence. They will launch our performance segment with their song Satoori Rap which shows off the dialects from two major regions in South Korea. Please put your hands together and join me in welcoming Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

The group bounced onto the stage to a polite smattering of claps, as full of energy as they always seemed to be. You grinned as the music started - the Satoori Rap was one of your favourite songs and their live performances of it never failed to get you hyped up.

It was hard for you not to start jumping along with them, but seeing the politely interested faces of everyone else in the room forced you to contain yourself. The way Jimin’s face lit up when he scanned the room and spotted you was enough to make you weak at the knees.

When the performance was over, you clapped enthusiastically for them, psyched that you’d finally been able to see them perform live. You didn’t care that your claps were much louder and more excited than the general tone of the applause in the room - you wanted to show the boys at least one member of their audience truly appreciated their music.

People turned to give you strange looks but you ignored them. You only had eyes for one boy… and he was staring right back at you. He kept eye contact with you till the moment he walked off the stage and disappeared from view, at which point you hurried back out of the room and into the corridor outside (what you assumed to be) their dressing room.

About to knock, you stopped yourself.

Am I being too eager?

Should I wait for him to come find me? I don’t think they’ll be coming into the hall though.

Ottokaji

Ottokaji

O-o-o-o-ottokaji

Not the time, _________.

I will-

You had started pacing as you debated with yourself, but the sound of the door opening made you stop in your tracks.

“Jimin, hi.”

He smiled that beautiful smile of his, and your stomach couldn’t help but do a few flips. “Hello,” he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “What is your name?”

“_______,” you answered, smiling shyly in return.

“Ah.” The smile was back. “Beautiful.”

“Gomawo.”

“You-”

He was interrupted by Namjoon calling his name (again). “Park Jimin! Where are you now you-” The door Jimin had shut behind him now flew open and he fell down, knocking into the leader as he did so.

Rubbing the spot on his side where Jimin had accidentally elbowed him, he looked up and saw you, understanding dawning on him. “Jimin, you need to get changed before we go.” He pulled the boy up and shoved him into the room, ignoring his protests. Turning to you, he smiled apologetically. “We’re going to go soon. There’s no point in us hanging around since we’ve done what we came here to do.”

“Oh.” Your heart sunk. But Jimin said he wanted to hang out!

“You can come with us if you’d like.” The offer was made somewhat begrudgingly and you didn’t feel like intruding.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I should probably stay. My dad, he um, I, he wouldn’t be happy if I just left so.”

Namjoon lowered his tone slightly. “Seriously, you can come if you want to. It’s not that I mind having you around, but our manager wouldn’t be all too happy. If you can deal with him glowering at you all night, you can come with.”

“Really?” Your grin was infectious. You were pretty sure your dad wouldn’t really mind you heading off with them - you were independent and had proven to him time and again that you had a good head on your shoulders and could be trusted to not do anything stupid.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched you try to contain your excitement. “We’re going out to eat at our favourite restaurant. You hungry?”

“A little.” Right on cue, your stomach grumbled - that bowl of chips had done nothing to satiate your hunger - and you blushed as he laughed.

“Good. How long have you been here in Seoul?”

Before you had time to answer, a breathless Jimin arrived and shot Namjoon an annoyed look.

Hyung, I told you to stop talking to her! “You come with us?”

You nodded eagerly. “I just have to ask my dad first.”

He looked questioningly at Namjoon, who translated.

“Okay. No problem. We wait here!”

Jimin gave you two thumbs up and you left, calling out a “Be right back!” as you entered the hall. Weaving your way through the crowd, you managed to find your dad and hurriedly explained what had happened, from Jimin bumping into you through to their invitation to go out for dinner. It took a little more persuading than you had expected, but in the end he let you go when you promised that you would text him updates every half hour.

When you got back to the room, all seven members of BTS were standing outside waiting, along with their manager. You could see a group of staff members lugging equipment down the hallway.

“You can come?” Jimin asked as you approached them.

You gave him two thumbs up, mirroring his gesture from earlier, making him smile in recognition.

Rap Monster introduced you to the rest of the group, Jimin supplying your name, and they greeted you with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Their manager watched the exchange and grunted when Jin prodded him to say something, but you didn’t let him dampen your mood.

No one ever gets to hang out with their favourite group! I must be the luckiest girl ever.

It was a tight squeeze in the car, but the ride to the restaurant wasn’t too long and you didn’t mind being pressed in between Jimin and Jungkook. It was cute how the maknae refused to look you in the eye and blushed whenever the movement of the vehicle forced you to lean towards him. Little did you know that Jimin was trying hard to suppress the urge to put an arm around you to stop you from moving away from him.

The restaurant was quaint and the food amazing. The ahjumma who served you was delighted to see the boys back in her establishment and showered you with attention, interested to see who this foreign girl hanging about her surrogate children was. Jimin patted the seat next to him when he saw you looking for somewhere to sit, and then Namjoon plopped himself down onto the seat next to yours (“so I can practice my English”). Jimin glared at him but he was oblivious to it, or pretended to be anyway.

You already knew Bangtan were a rowdy bunch, and they really lived up to your expectations. More than once, you found yourself wondering ‘If they’re like this without any alcohol, I wonder how they would be once they start drinking.’

All in all, it was an enjoyable evening and you were reluctant to leave at the time you had agreed on with your father. At 10pm, you stood up and thanked them for inviting you to dinner, taking out your wallet to pay for your share of the meal before taking your leave. There was a chorus of protests as they insisted they (or rather the manager) would pay for everything and you slowly put away your money.

“Do you know how to get to your house from here?”

You had actually recognised the street outside as you had stepped out of the car. You had been here once before, a few weeks ago, to visit the bookstore at the end of the road and could vaguely remember how to make your way home.

“I think so. My house is only a fifteen minute walk from here.”

“Oh no, I meant to direct Manager-nim as we drive you home. No way we’re letting you walk at this time of night.”

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “I’ve intruded on your hospitality for too long. And besides, the walk will do me good. It’ll help the food settle.”

“You… walk?” Jimin asked, not really understanding what you had said to Namjoon.

“Ne,” you nodded. “Thank you for everything. All of you. Good luck with your music!”

You bowed and made your way to the door, thanking the ahjumma as she waved goodbye to you too. You had walked about halfway down the street when you heard your name being called out. You turned to see Jimin running after you and stopped to wait for him to catch up.

“What are you doing?”

“I… walk you home.”

“Oh you don’t have to.” You smiled reassuringly at him. “I know how to get there myself.”

He shook his head. “Night-time. Not safe.”

“I’ll be fine.” What are you doing!? Your ultimate bias is trying to walk you home. Stop pushing him away!

“No, I come with you. 가자!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you in the direction you had been walking earlier. You were glad it was dark out - it minimised the chances of him seeing the blush on your cheeks.

When you reached the end of the road, you took the lead and you spent the whole walk in a comfortable silence. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other’s hand, so you reached your house with your fingers intertwined and you both found it strange how at ease you felt with each other.

“Well, this is it. My house.” You pointed to the looming building, a lone light on the second floor indicating your father had arrived home from the function.

“Your house… very big,” he observed, awe in his voice.

“It is,” you acknowledged, smiling slightly. You were sad the night was coming to an end.

“See you soon?”

You looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“You… no want to?” He looked hurt.

“I-I do! It’s just- are you allowed to?”

“Allowed?”

“Your manager? BigHit? Bang Si Hyuk-ssi? They will be okay with it?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I want to see you again.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “I want to see you again too.”

“My number.” Jimin reached into his pocket and handed you a napkin, a number scribbled across one corner. “Call me?” He put his hand up to the side of his face in the universal call sign.

“I will.”

You stood there staring at each other for a few moments, him reluctant to go, you reluctant to head inside. Finally, he extended an arm.

“I go now. Nice to meet you.”

You giggled, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too.” In a second of boldness, you stepped closer to him and tiptoed, pecking him on the cheek. Jumping back, embarrassed, you covered your flaming cheeks. “Bye!” You bolted up your driveway, not turning back to see him staring after you with disbelief on his face.

 He raised his hand to lightly graze the spot your lips had touched, his mouth stretching into a bashful grin. He turned back the way you had come, walking towards the restaurant in a daze. The ball was now in your court, and if that kiss had been any indication, it meant his future was looking pretty damn interesting.

______________________________________________________

I haven’t proofread this so please excuse any mistakes (and tell me if you find any). I hope you enjoyed reading it!

#bts #bangtan boys #bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts scenarios #jimin #park jimin #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfiction #jimin fic #bangtan scenarios

[thisiswherewestart]

I'm Sorry (feat. BTS' Min Yoongi a.k.a SUGA)

You looked out the window, the bright crescent of the moon catching your eye as you scanned your clothes for something to wear that night. It was his birthday, so you would have to dress up. There used to be a time when you would have wanted to dress up for occasions like these, but things had changed. Nevertheless, you put on your backless blue dress, the one he disliked seeing you wearing because it made other men ogle. You suppressed a sigh as you smoothed down the fabric.

I’m sorry. You’re going to hate me forever, so why not go all out?

It had never been your intention to end things like this, but you couldn’t wait any longer. Your plane flew out tomorrow and you didn’t want to break up over text, so it had to be tonight. You had tried to break the news to him several times throughout the day to avoid having to even go to the big bash, but he had been too excited and you hadn’t had the heart to break his spirit.

You sat staring at your reflection, lost in thought when the ringing of your phone broke your internal monologue. The smiling face of your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend flashed up on your screen and your stomach turned with a guilty feeling at what you were planning to do later.

With trembling hands, you picked the vibrating device up and swiped your finger across its smudged screen.

Trying to keep any hint of a tremble out of your voice, you answered, “Yoboseyo?”

"Jagiya!" Yoongi’s voice came through, obviously excited. Your stomach churned with the thought that in a few hours, his smiling face would probably be distraught.

"Yeah? I’m on my way, just leaving my place now."

"Hurry, jagi! I want to have some time with you before everyone else arrives." His voice had taken on a suggestive tone and you almost let out an involuntary sob.

"S-stop it, Yoongi." You couldn’t stop the shaking this time, but thankfully he didn’t notice.

"Aw, is my jagi still shy even when we’ve been together almost three years now?" he teased you, completely oblivious to how you were feeling. The fact that he brought up your approaching anniversary did nothing but pile on the guilt.

You laughed weakly and made an excuse to hang up, hurriedly doing so. You threw your phone down on your bed before standing and walking to the wall, pounding on it to let out your frustration. Your blows got weaker and weaker as your strength left your body and in the end you slid down, back against the cool surface, face a mess of tears and mascara.

You sat there sobbing for too long, before getting up, emotions under control, to clean your face and apply more makeup. You changed into something Yoongi liked on you - you’d decided not to annoy him from the beginning of the night - and hurried out the door, realising you would not be able to get to the party venue before the first guests arrived. A part of you was relieved - you wouldn’t have to be alone with Yoongi until later on.

As you pulled into the already crowded parking lot, you noticed a sign in the space next to the band’s car with your plate number and the word ‘Reserved’ on it. With a pang, you realised this would be the last time you would get that privilege. You had to take a moment after parking your car to steel yourself for what needed to be done.

The party was in full swing when you finally walked into the highly decorated hall. Your eyes met Yoongi’s as you surveyed the room, and your heart couldn’t help but do a little flip at how good he looked.

His smile only grew bigger when he saw you and he excused himself from the company of his bandmates before bounding over to offer you his arm. He didn’t even seem to remember that he had wanted you to arrive early.

”_______-ah! You’re finally here! You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes were full of love and appreciation and you blushed at the attention. Noticing this, he added, “I can still make you blush, huh? You’re adorable, jagi.” He wrapped you in a hug before starting to lead you over to the birthday table.

As you neared it, you tugged on his arm, making him stop short.

"What is it?"

"Yoongi…"

Your serious tone made him turn to look at you. The confused look he sported made you want to tell him nothing was wrong and that you were just messing around, but you wrapped a layer of ice around your heart and told him-

"We need to talk."

His smile, which had been a permanent fixture on his face the entire day, now slid off slowly. You hated being the cause of this, but you needed to say it to him. This probably wasn’t the best time for it - you were probably going to ruin his entire night - but you couldn’t take it anymore. You wouldn’t be able to last the duration of the party.

"What’s wrong, jagi?" His tone now matched yours.

"We… should go somewhere quieter."

You turned and led the way outside, trusting him to follow in your wake. There, you looked into his eyes and quietly admitted what you had come to the party to do. At first, he had thought you were kidding and tried brushing it off, telling you to stop messing with him, but your unchanging expression finally sobered him.

As the truth sunk in, you could see his world caving in on him and you desperately wanted to wrap your arms around him and take back everything you just said, saying it was all just a joke and laughing at how gullible he was, but you couldn’t because it wasn’t a joke. You had just broken up with the best thing that had ever happened to you and now you were going to leave him there, tears falling down his flawless face, at the entrance to his birthday party.

You didn’t bother saying sorry, knowing it would have made no difference. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked back towards the elevator, half hoping he would stop you, but he didn’t.

You kept the tears locked behind your emotionless facade until the lift doors closed. Once the cell started moving, you broke down. Your chest constricted and you had a hard time breathing as the tears fell fast and hard.

Your eyes didn’t dry until a quarter past one that night. You were finally cried out after four hours of non-stop sobbing.

I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.

***

It had been exactly a year since he had last seen you and the pain you had caused him was still a dull ache that resurfaced as a piercing jolt from time to time.

It was his birthday again, a cause for celebration, but it was now also the anniversary of your break up and his mind couldn’t help but wander to you. Every time this happened, his bandmates could tell because his facial expression would turn to one of anguish.

"Hyung," Namjoon called, voice unusually soft from worry. "Are you okay?"

Yoongi shot him a forlorn smile and shrugged. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” It’s not like my heart was torn out and stamped on by the only woman I’ve ever loved on this very day, one year ago.

The leader let the subject drop and they all (save the birthday boy) exchanged worried glances as the car pulled up to the restaurant where the birthday dinner was being held.

Now that the group had successfully debuted as 방탄소년단, big birthday parties were out of the question as their hectic schedule wouldn’t allow it.

The restaurant was a step up from the ordinary eateries the group regularly went to - BigHit’s CEO had decided to take this opportunity to congratulate the boys on their nine months of success as a rookie group and their schedule had been cleared for the night so they could celebrate properly.

Once they had been shown to their reserved table, Yoongi immediately asked a passing waitress for a bottle of champagne. The others looked on, hoping he was just in the mood to celebrate, but the truth was he wanted to drown out his pain with the wonderfully numbing property of alcohol.

The night was going surprisingly smoothly. At that stage, Yoongi was feeling a buzz from the champagne and the mood around the table had lightened considerably; Taehyung’s antics had even managed to entice a laugh from Yoongi and they were all feeling relieved.

All of a sudden, as Yoongi was pouring himself a third glass of champagne, there was a crash from the front of the establishment. All heads swivelled towards the commotion, where a girl with flaming cheeks tried helping the maître’d to pick up the coat rack she had caused to fall.

Though her hair was covering half her face and she had dyed it a lighter brown, Yoongi stood up in shock when he recognised her - it was you.

"_-________?" His voice came out a stutter.

You looked up, brows furrowed in confusion and froze when you spotted his hopeful face.

"W-what are you doing here?" Your own voice carried a stutter. Even after a year of trying to forget him, he didn’t fail to induce butterflies in your stomach.

"It’s my birthday, remember?" He smiled sadly at you. "We’re here to," he raised his arms to gesture around "celebrate."

During this exchange the two of you had slowly crossed the restaurant to meet in the middle. You now stood an arm’s length away from each other.

"Yoongi, I-"

He cut you off with a hug, holding you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. You melted into the embrace, suppressing a sob at how familiar his touch was. Oh how you had missed his hugs, his voice, him during your year abroad.

"Tell me you don’t have a boyfriend."

"I don’t-"

He cut you off again, this time with a kiss. It was rough, raw, hungry and you responded in kind. You were in your own world, forgetting you were in the middle of a public place.

When you broke apart, you were both panting from the lack of air. He grinned at you, then hugged you again, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. You saw his bandmates watching you with stunned expressions and you shot them a sheepish look before Yoongi spoke and everything else just faded away again.

"I’ve missed you so much."

"I’ve missed you too, Yoongi." You broke out of his hold to look him in the eye. "I’m so sorry I hurt you. This past year has been… hell for me, so I can’t imagine what it has been like for you.” He opened his mouth to respond but you put a finger to his lips to stop him. “Please. Just let me get this out. I’ve been watching your promotions with the band and I can’t tell you how proud I am, Yoongi. You’re on your way to achieving your dream and I am just so proud.

"The thing is, though, that I know you inside and out. You were the other half of me for so long I could see the pain I had caused, even when you hid it so well from everyone else. I just want to say I’m sorry.

"Sorry for letting my insecurities get between us. Sorry for thinking that not talking to you would help me with my studies when in reality it was your presence that pushed me to work harder.

"You were the light in my life. You inspired me to aim for so much more because you yourself strive for greatness. You were my anchor and I felt so lost without you this past year.

"I convinced myself that you didn’t need me. That I didn’t need you. But I’ve realised now that that isn’t true. I do need you, and I hope you’ll take me back even though I put you through all that.”

You had lowered your eyes during the last part of that speech, not wanting to see the answer in his eyes. As your voice trailed off, he took your hands in his and smiled, a hint of melancholy etched across his face.

”__________.”

You nodded, still looking at your shoes.

"Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, you brought your gaze up to meet his. You could see tears brimming in his eyes, but you knew he wouldn’t let them fall. He had too much pride for that.

"Did you think that, after going through a whole year without you, I would just take you back? After a whole year of hell, you could just fall back in my arms like nothing has changed? Well guess what?”

You flinched, afraid of what was coming. His tone had grown increasingly harder and his voice louder as he spoke.

"You would have been right."

What?

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly.

"You… you’ll take me back?"

"I thought my earlier actions already indicated that, __________."

"Yeah, but I thought-"

"Like I said, this past year was hell. It was hell because you weren’t by my side. Did you really think that now I have you again, I’m ever going to let you go? Don’t count on it, jagi, because I am planning on being with you for many years to come.”

Your eyes now filled with tears, mostly of relief. The way he had just slipped the word ‘jagi’ in there so casually made your heart soar.

"Yoongi, I love you."

He smiled and wiped away the one tear that had managed to escape down your cheek.

”__________, I love you too.”

Someone clearing their throat interrupted the moment you were having. Turning to face the sound, you saw your new boss waving to you from a table by the window.

"I’m sorry to interrupt this oh-so-sweet reunion, but I have a schedule to keep to. If Miss _________ would kindly join me to discuss the terms of her employment?"

Yoongi’s eyes widened as he saw Bang Si Hyuk sitting there.

"What are you-" Yoongi looked confusedly between the two of you. "Wait, jagi, you’re not-" He turned and bowed to the President of BigHit. "Annyeonghaseyo, president-nim! I’ll just, um, leave you to it then."

He sent you a meaningful look 'Why didn't you tell me??' before turning to join his table once more. You too moved but to join Bang Si Hyuk-ssi but you paused when you realised you’d forgotten something.

"Hey babo!" You called after Yoongi’s retreating back.

"What?" He looked at you expectantly.

You winked at him. “Happy birthday, sugar.”

 ———————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I wanted to write a birthday fic, but not a generic one with a surprise party, so this is what it ended up being. I hope you liked it, and I hope there aren’t too many mistakes in it. I wrote this whole thing on my phone, so there are bound to be typos and little errors here and there. If you find any, please point them out to me.

Annyeong~

#bts #bangtan boys #bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts scenarios #minswagday #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #suga scenarios #suga fanfiction #suga fic #yoongi scenarios #bangtan scenarios #birthday fic

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Seven Minutes In Heaven

Reader/Taehyung (V from BTS)

***

You watched with bated breath as Kim Taehyung spun the bottle. Seconds ticked by, agonisingly slowly, the bottle moving slower and slower until it finally stopped. The neck was pointing at you.

Not saying a word, he stood up and walked to the bedroom you were to be locked up in together for the next seven minutes. Puzzled by his silence and abruptness, you exchanged glances with your best friend, who knew how big a crush you used to have on him.

Heart pounding, you stood up. He is expecting me to follow him, right?

Walking into the room, you found him sitting on the bed, looking down with an unreadable expression across his face. The sound of the door closing and locking behind you followed by two knocks indicating that the timer had been started made him look up. His eyes bore into you.

Taehyung was an old friend. Well, maybe friend was too strong a word. Close acquaintances, maybe. You had been classmates in middle school and you had developed a childish crush on him back then, but before it could amount to anything he had become a trainee with BigHit Entertainment and moved away.

You would be lying if you said he hadn't crossed your mind once since he left, but you were sure that you no longer had feelings for him. What a surprise it had been when he walked through the door earlier that evening and your stomach had automatically filled with butterflies.

Apparently your feelings were still very much alive. If anything, they had gotten stronger over time.

Taehyung was back home for a week, and a mutual friend had invited him to this party you had been looking forward to for months. You had been so excited for some reason, which was strange because you were not usually a party goer. It was like a part of you had known something would be different that day.

You looked hesitantly back at him. He had been game to play, but what if he didn't like his chosen partner? Were you just going to stay like this, in silence, for the next seven minutes?

"___________." His deliciously deep voice disrupted your thoughts.

You raised your eyebrows in question.

“Why are you still standing over there?” He patted the space next to him on the bed. “Come here.”

You obliged, unsure where this was going. As soon as you sat down, however, your questions were answered.

He kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, it wasn’t a shy kiss. Taehyung was being the confident idol you saw performing on stage. HIs kiss was like a command, and when you didn’t push him away he moved to lay you down on the bed. He hovered above you, his teeth biting your bottom lip. Surprised, your mouth fell open of their own accord, granting him access.

As he started exploring your mouth, you started kissing him back. You grabbed his hair, lifting your body to meet his and rubbing against it. He emitted a soft groan at your actions and one of his hands moved to clench your arm, a warning to stop before it got any further. A few moments passed with the two of you making out as if your life depended on it, and then you broke apart simultaneously, both out of air.

“Taehyung, what-”

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly, returning to his corner of the bed, his back facing you. His boldness was out of character for the Taehyung you used to know - this was more like the old him. Shy, but quietly confident. “Ever since you let me borrow that pencil off you in middle school.”

You remained silent, pretending to be catching your breath as an excuse to let him keep talking.

He let out a chuckle. “Well, maybe not that, exactly. I’ve always wanted to kiss you, is what I meant. I’m sorry if I was being… forceful.”

Another bout of silence.

“Taehyung.”

He didn’t move.

“Look at me.”

He slowly turned, his face flushed, both from embarrassment and from the heated make out session.

“Was that a confession?” you implored, eyes searching.

He avoided eye contact, staring at a stray piece of thread on the bedroom floor as he nodded.

You spoke again, voice soft. “You weren’t being” too “forceful. I… I’ve liked you for a long time too.”

His head snapped up. “You have?” He couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on his face. “Really?”

You nodded, a shy smile adorning your own lips. “I never thought you would feel like that about me.”

“Me? What’s so special about me?” Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was just an average kid.”

You shook your head. “You were always polite and thoughtful and while you were outgoing, I noticed moments when you were shy too and that just made me like you more.” You grinned at him. “And your being cute didn’t hurt either.”

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the door being flung open.

“Ahah!” The party host burst into the room with the others, timer in hand. “Oh, you’re not doing anything. You’re so boring. Come on guys, let’s spin it again.” He left the room, the others trailing behind him, your best friend turning to shoot you questioning looks but you just shook your head at her.

You and Taehyung shared a grin and he winked as he passed you to leave the room behind the others. “I hope we get to see each other again.”

You stared after his retreating back, unable to keep the smile off your face. Life just got a whole lot more interesting.

#BTS #bangtan boys #bangtan seonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts drabble #V #taehyung #v scenarios #v drabble #taehyung scenarios #taehyung scenario #taehyung drabble #bulletproof boy scouts

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The Kitty Chronicles

#Troye Sivan #cat #kitty #twitter