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haeggi · 11 months

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the gift and the gifted | myg ✓

➔ pairing: top student!yoongi × top student!reader

➔ genres/warnings: highschool!au, christmas!au, holiday!au, romcom!au, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, suggestive themes (but there's no smut, woops), also yoongi wears glasses bc my babie is so cute and hot when he wears one, lots of cussing prolly, some jokes may be offensive, reader and yoongi basically wants to strangle each other's necks bc yes.

➔ word count: 12.9k

➔ synopsis: you were always at the top; girls envied you and they aspired to be like you, and you got guys swooning at your feet. but there was always a particular individual who followed your footsteps. min yoongi. everywhere you were, he always shadowed you. he always came in second to you, and just like you, he also had become the primary cause of ladies getting diagnosed with erotomanias (metaphorically, of course). but everything crashes downhill when your roles are suddenly switched; he ends up at the top, and you below him. how messed up could that be?

or alternatively, christmas was just around the corner, and all it takes are the midterms (which will be a piece of cake to you) before the semester ends. however, the christmas news you receive that year was one of the worst gifts yet. let's say, it went catastrophic because the gift came in the form of min yoongi, your biggest rival.

notes: this is my first ever tumblr ff ajshssk. it's raw and unedited, so expect a lot of grammar mistakes.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

According to statistics of an unknown source, a lot of experts believe that the global population is composed of between 2% to 6% of gifted children. Such child prodigies are blessed with naturally high inborn intelligence. They perform significantly at complex levels compared to peers.

You belonged in the 2 to 6% of that category. At the fresh age of two, you were able to read novels that are typically for adolescents. You also already knew how to write children stories, your imaginations constantly spreading as if you were using a hex in your mind, expanding your thoughts into a whole new wide level.

Yes, that was indeed a Marvel reference.

Oh, you started watching the series by the time you were three, by the way. Whenever your parents kissed you goodbye to report to their jobs, you would bake pancakes while standing on a stool because you were still too tiny to reach the top of the kitchen counter. Afterwards, you would waddle into the living room, turn on the TV, and bask into a three-hour Marvel movie.

You would also laugh at the adult jokes that were made that even most adolescents wouldn't get, yet there you were, being a couch potato, sipping on maple syrups while giggling at the scenes.

And by the time you were four, you knew all your basic math. You could also spell complicated words already such as pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (man, I literally had to copy-paste that from Google, smh). You also have memorized all the countries of Asia and Europe, and the parts of the human's and plants' cells—not just the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell basic and overused shit.

But most importantly, you definitely had attitude problems. You had a blunt tongue and a sharp wit.

"I don't want to go to school," your five-year-old-self whined burying your small head further into the pillow. "I don't need to," you add, muffled.

"Honey," your mother sighed, inviting herself in your bedroom. She knew how much you despised it whenever someone crossed your personal space, yet you were too whine-y to even fight your mother. "I know that, but you still need to. The world is too big for everything to fit in your brain—"

"Are you calling me small?" you grimaced, exhuming your head from the pillow and whipping it at your mom's direction. "Mom, you know how much I'm sensitive when it comes to my height!"

"Yes, dear, I apologize—"

"I don't wanna hear it, mom! My decision is final, I don't wanna go to kindergarten!" you yelled, albeit your voice was muffled because you stuffed your face into your pillow again.

"Kindergarten?" your mother repeated. "Y/N, I never said anything about enrolling you to kindergarten. I was planning to apply for your acceleration for elementary—"

"Mmmooommmm!" you groaned, almost sounding like a wolf, but to your beloved mother, you just sounded like a pup. "Leave me alone, please! I know my geometry, I can solve the area of a rectangle, a square, a decagon. Even a gazillion-gon or whatever! And I know how to use similes, metaphors, hyperboles, and ironies!"

"Clearly," your mother muttered under her breath. "With how sharp your tongue is, I'm not even surprised."

The woman flinched when a soft piece of fluff landed before her feet. It was one of your stuff toys, Mr. Bear-able.

She resisted the urge to massage her temples, catching what her daughter was implying. "Alright, fine. I'll leave you alone. But if you ever change your mind, tell me."

"I don't do do overs, mom," you retorted, suddenly having the appetite to get out of bed. You waddle towards your desk, plopping on the seat with your back turned to your mother. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a lot to do."

"Of course," your mother responded. "Come down for dinner at seven. Don't. Be. Late," she warned.

"Yes, mother," you stressed the last word.

Hearing the door shut close, you released a sigh of relief, finally grateful for the time of peace.

But, unfortunately, for gifted children, peace was a state they rarely achieved.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Ten years later, you are now enduring the third year of high school. And ten years ago, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't step foot into a school. Ever. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway, flooded with lots of people your age. Jocks and cheerleaders mostly flocked the lockers, some of which are busy slamming each other against each one, their faces all over each other.

It was a disgusting sight to you, but you are used to it now. You know not to pry into their business and scream at them to stop the eff out. One, because you were simply lazy—or rather, conserving energy is the right term. Second, they weren't worth your precious time.

Yes, it was your third year in high school, but also it was only your third time attending school because for the last seven years, you had been cooped up within the four walls of your bedroom. You never stepped foot out the door, except when you ate. You were either sleeping, writing, or just aimlessly scrolling on Twitter and Tiktok.

It had gotten to the point where your mother barged into the room with your father following her like a lost puppy, because he didn't want to deal with you because he was either 1) really, really afraid of you or 2) he just didn't really want to deal with an untamed animal that was in the form of you. Yet, he followed your mother to your room because 1) he was definitely still more afraid of his wife more than of his daughter and 2) he probably wants to witness your demise.

And you did get your demise. You got an earful from your mother. She had confiscated your phone, pulled you out of your room and locked the door. She was getting sick of you acting around as if you were the boss. As if you were the adult.

Yeah, you definitely had (still have, by the way) attitude problems.

And the only condition that your mother had so that you could gain access back to your room and phone is if you enrolled at school, got a degree, and a decent job.

So here you were, in the very hellhole you didn't want to end up in.

On the bright side, you are still a gifted child, and hell did you demolished everyone in your path. Academically, of course. Consistently, you were the overall top one of your batch from first year to second year. You were always the top scorer in examinations. You were also literally destroying your teachers' careers, which basically made almost everyone love you. Almost.

You got guys begging for your attention, wanting to take you out on dates. You also got girls envying you, wanting to be you. And also, of course, you had haters.

And most significantly, you had competition.

He was always there, wherever you were. You were on the list of top scorers, and underneath your name, just right next to it, was his name printed. You were the overall top one, and below you, just beside you, was his name written.

You were the first, and he always came in second.

Your eyes were literally burning in crimson when you saw him entering your line of sight. His jet black hair was neatly styled as usual, his pale skin was glowing underneath the fluorescent lights, his eyes were adorned with round-rimmed glasses, accentuating his clever ambience further.

It made your blood boil; the way he was just calmly walking through the crowd of students. He didn't even make an effort passing through the bodies because people made way for him. Of course, they would. He is the fucking student council president, for hell's sake!

Your arms are crossed, still staring him down as he greeted and bowed to those who smiled at him. Oh, how badly you wanted to rip his mouth off of his face and smack it to the first girl you see because she would definitely pay you at least ten years worth of your life, then you can finally ditch school, maybe disappear off the surface of the map and enjoy a life of solitude in probably an abandoned island, sipping on mojito, or maybe the mountains to enjoy the fresh air of nature because the air down there smelled like pieces of shit—

"Y/N," he singsongs, his gravelly voice reaching your ears.

You didn't notice that you had been standing at the middle of the hallway for quite a long time now because he, along with a few of the other student council members trailing behind him, was now in front of you. You notice everyone's eyes are on you two. Everyone knew of the rivalry you two have. And you also knew that they are totally anticipating a war to happen.

"Yoongi," you say, your tone honeyed with a hint of passive-aggressiveness.

"How was your weekend?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Oh, he is definitely enjoying the attention. Just so you wait, I will rip your fakeass smile—

"It was okay!" you chirp, faking a laugh. "I hope yours was too."

Yoongi hums, fixing his glasses that had slightly slid down, exposing his feline eyes for a fleeting moment. "Fortunately, it went more than okay to me," he says with a pompous smile.

Your verbose response is a forced smile, hoping that he will take the hint that he will leave you alone now, because you knew what he was referencing to. The recent weekend, both of your families had dinner together. Unfortunately for you, your parents and his parents are very well-acquainted with each other. Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and Mr. and Mrs. Min's relationship was founded through a business partnership. Despite that, the relationship between the four adults ensued into a deeper level.

Alas, the same couldn't be said with the two offsprings. While their parents considered each other close friends, you and Yoongi acknowledged the other as each other's nemesis.

Everything between you and him always ended up to become a competition. A competition to see who gets on the other's nerves the quicker.

That was why on that particular Saturday night, in a fancy restaurant booked by Yoongi's parents, underneath the rectangular marbled table, you used the advantage of wearing heels that time to sink one of your stilettos on one of his leather shoes when he taunted you. Afterwards, he made a scene, instantly pointing a finger at you when his mother worriedly asked what happened. You promptly defended yourself, saying that it was an accident and that you didn't notice his foot immediately. Then, your beloved mother scolded you in front of them to be more careful because it was bad manners; and that you should act like a proper lady in a five-star Michelin restaurant.

Luckily, he starts to leave you, but only after making up an excuse. "Well, I'm a bit late with my duties, I can't waste time any longer. So, I'll see you later."

He attempts to walk past you, but you had enough time to recover from his pettish outro. As he takes the first steps, you mislead him by moving aside. Then, you slide your foot forwards, miniscule. You watch as his own bumps into yours and in a span of a second, he trips, albeit he regains his balance quickly to your dismay. You almost pouted since he didn't meet the floor with his face.

His calm composure cracks a tiny bit, his eye twitching as he looks at you, his expression now displaying irk. He expected everyone else to look at you as if you were the culprit, but unfortunately, for his part, no one noticed because it is too crowded in the hallway for anyone to catch what you did. Instead, they all had their gazes at him. Some of them awkwardly smiled, while others began to whisper.

Nevertheless, Yoongi ignores them. He stands up straight, fixing the collar of his shirt before waltzing away with his group trailing behind. Unlike earlier, he was tramping, eager to flee the scene and rendering you into a fit of hushed and inconspicuous giggles.

Not today, Snow White. Not today.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You are stuck in another hour of a boring lesson. You lazily spin a pencil around your fingers, with one hand supporting the weight of your chin as you stare outside the window of your classroom, observing the varsity soccer players attempting to score goals.

You unconsciously snicker when one of the players falls on the grass, catching the attention of your math teacher. It took two calls of your name before you faced her, scowling when she says, "Since you seem so confident, not listening to my discussion, will you please be so kind to solve this on the board?"

You raise an eyebrow, looking at her as if saying 'Are you serious?' The teacher doesn't falter, however, and you sigh vexatiously, standing up from your seat and idly ambling across the aisle. You feel the stares of your classmates piercing at your back but you don't waver. Upon reaching the front, you take the marker from your teacher, whose face was still etched into a frown at the behavior you are showing.

You solve the polynomial equation with ease, not even pausing to think. And when you encircled your final answer and turned to return your teacher's marker, she was gaping at you. Smirking in victory, she tells you to return to your seat. And for the rest of the lecture, she doesn't bother you anymore.

After school, you went straight out of the campus, as if the air inside the building had been suffocating you that you even release a long sigh of relief. Frankly, you thought that you had wasted another day because you didn't learn anything new from any of your subjects. All that was discussed, you already know those concepts since you were ten years old.

And now, you wanted to throw a tantrum at your mother when you get home.

You head for the gates of the campus, and as if you didn't have enough on your plate, a car comes revving near you, and before you knew it, it blocks your path, making you abruptly halt your steps. You instantly recognize the model of the vehicle. The driver's door opens and a familiar black bob of hair is revealed. You don't even try to hide your irritation when Yoongi approaches you.

"Get in the car," he demands, opening the passenger door right in front of you.

You don't listen. Instead, you comment, "Nice calculations there. Which theorem did you apply that made the passenger's door end up in front of my face? Show me your scratch papers."

He rolls his eyes, clearly not having your shit. "My mom called me and told me that your mom told her to tell me that I'm dropping you off at your house because your mom is worried that you'll be off somewhere else again and cause trouble, so she wants to make sure that you're not going to do anything stupid again—"

"Hold your horses, Eminem." You flail your hands in front of him. "First of all, drop the your mom tongue twister. Second, I'm not coming with you. Who knows? You might be plotting my death. And third, stop talking to me because people might think that we're friends."

Without waiting for Yoongi's response, you swaggered around his Hyundai Sonata, heading for the campus gates. Relief washes over you when you don't hear the annoying honking of his car. He had left you alone for now.

Besides, how worse could your day get any further?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Your bag drops to the floor once you have registered the sight of your mother guffawing at a joke he said. They were both too occupied in their conversation that they only sensed your presence when you make a beeline for the stairs.

"Y/N," your mother calls, and you stop in your tracks, one foot mid-air. You curse lowly, not being able to even make it for the first tread.

You put on the fakest smile you could muster, making sure that it was discernible that you didn't want to have to do anything with the two most exasperating persons in the room.

"Aren't you gonna join Yoongi and I for snacks?" she says, rendering you to fist your hand. It took a lot of strength from you not to swing a punch at the said male. He was clearly enjoying this. He absolutely knew that you were getting reprimanded again once he leaves the premise.

Your smile twitches, almost cracking but you stay firm. "Sure, I will. Mother." You deliberately stressed the last word. A warning gaze is given to you by your mother.

Smirking lightly, you don't tiptoe anymore, seeing that it was useless. You pull the chair across where Yoongi sat, purposely making the wood screech against the floor. Your mother winces slightly that made you smile triumphantly.

As if nothing had transpired, your mother began to speak. "So, Yoongi here told me that you refused to get a lift from him. You do know that that's basic manners."

"Yes, and you told me not to accept anything from strangers," you deadpan. Your mother's eyes widen in horror, instantly sending Yoongi an apologetic gaze.

"Oh, Yoongi, I'm so sorry about my daughter. I think she meant that she didn't want to a burden to you."

Yoongi waves his hand, a cheeky smile painted on his lips. "It's alright, Mrs. L/N. I get what you mean. I absolutely understand where Y/N is coming from."

Your head was beginning to ache from the exchange that was occurring between the two people you weren't entirely fond of. Before your mother could respond to your nemesis, you cut in.

"Why is he even here, mom?" you demand. Your mother chuckles awkwardly, looking back and forth between you and your enemy.

"Well," she starts. "Your midterms are nearing alongside the weather that is starting to cool off. I invited Yoongi so that you two could study together and maybe consider this as a bonding moment for the two of you—"

You don't let her finish, abruptly standing up from your seat, already shooting daggers at the woman who birthed you.

"Mom, I don't need a study buddy. I can clearly study fine on my own. In fact, I don't need to because I know everything and I assure you that I will ace my midterms just like I've had for the past two years."

Mrs. L/N frowns at your response. "Y/N, if you please, will you stop with the bratty attitude? We have a guest and the least you can do is act accordingly!"

You are certain that your blood had reached its boiling point. "No!" you raise your tone, unbothered by the fact that your rival is literally witnessing the argument that is transpiring right now. What irked you more was that he is probably enjoying the scene unfolding before him. "You're just doing all of these because you know how much I despite it! I hate it, mom. And I absolutely harbor all of the ill feelings you can name towards him!" You point at Yoongi, who is calmly watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

As far as you know, only your parents knew that you loathed Yoongi. That was why you were always comfortable expressing it even in their presence. But whenever his parents were at the scene, that was when you could control your temper, and suppress your irritations, which is why now, you were exploding once again.

"Y/N—!"

"I'm not hearing it," you proclaim, already making way towards the stairs. "Chit-chat with him for all I care. Just leave me be."

You stomp upstairs, making sure you slam your bedroom door shut. Smoke was literally smothering out of yours ears and nostrils as you grabbed the nearest book you had from your shelf and throw it with all your might at the other end of your room. Then, you march towards your bed, falling on it face-first and releasing your screams, muffled by your pillows.

You are so angry and infuriated, mentally wrecking Yoongi with all the curses you could think of. After what seemed like hours of disparaging him in the form of talking to your long-time best friend, Mr. Bear-able, you feel your throat become dry. It is parched and you feel the need to gulp down a gallon of water with how much saliva you used.

Annoyed that you had to leave the comfort of your room to get a glass of water downstairs, you wonder if Yoongi had already left. You check outside, raising the blinds of your window. Then, you grimace, seeing the familiar vehicle parked in front of your house.

Why was that son of a half-troll still here?

You really didn't want to go down and see him, but your throat was literally begging for your thirst to be quenched. You try to weigh the pros and cons, with the cons definitely outweighing the former, but you were still too thirsty. It was sending you to the brim of annoyance so you had no choice but to step out of your room.

Your ears try to hear for movements and conversations, but when you don't, you thought that maybe they were in the backyard. You sigh in relief, albeit too early because when your feet touched the floor of the first floor of your house, you almost lost your balance upon seeing the devil himself standing by the stairs' handrails. The balusters did the job of concealing him because his face is already adorned with a smirk.

"Why the fuck are you here?" you demand. "Where's mom?"

"Out," Yoongi simply answers, sipping on his iced Americano.

"Why?" You cross your arms, raising an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"She felt bad about your tantrum—" he explains nonchalantly. "—so, she insisted to take-out dinner."

"Why didn't you just come with her? That would save us both the case of fighting—"

"I offered to stay and look after you in case something happens, although your mom was still really worried for me in case you might pull something against me. But I assured her that I would be fine." He blinks as if his response was a normal one.

However, you don't buy it, narrowing your eyes and taking a defiant step closer to him. "What are you scheming this time? Wasn't it enough for you that you got to witness me getting reprimanded?"

Yoongi doesn't seem affected because he stands his ground, his eyes reciprocating the determined gaze you were giving him.

He doesn't answer you, and he breaks your eye-contact, looking at something behind you.

"Hey, I asked you a question—"

"It's snowing," he cuts you off.

Mildly confused and musing a what, you turn around to check what he was looking at. And then you see the first fall of snow of the year. Immediately, you feel the chilly breeze of winter prick your skin.

Eyebrows still furrowed, you only move when Yoongi scurries off towards the heater, turning it on. After a few seconds, the cold that you instantly felt is replaced by warmth. Still, you were on edge, because Yoongi was acting really... weird.

You watch him with judgment in your eyes as he makes his way towards the dining room. That's when you see study materials sprawled on the table; Stabilo highlighters with their caps off, arrow sticky notes pasted on top of pages of the textbooks, reviewers spread all throughout the space of the table. He had been clearly studying for midterms. You were disturbed that he had shamelessly claimed territory on your dining room.

You feel the bile crawling up your throat, you are cognizantly displeased at the way Yoongi was acting. You march towards the room, where he was busy organizing his notes.

"Hey!" you squawked. "Will you stop walking around as if this is your house?! And... can you stop that? You're acting weird..." you trail off when Yoongi doesn't even snap at you. He only looks at you as if you were the strange one in the room.

You roll your eyes, opting to get your glass of water from the kitchen instead. If the damn bitch won't respond to you properly then you won't bother to waste your time.

Closing the refrigerator, with one hand holding the pitcher, you jump the second time that day, caught off-guard by your rival standing behind the door of the refrigerator.

"Jesus Christ, Yoongi!" you yell. "I will literally smack you in the face with this pitcher!"

"Huh," he muses. "That's really weird."

"What?" you say in disbelief. "Don't call me weird when between us, you're the one that's acting weird. Fucking leave me alone, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, exactly." He remains unfazed by your threats. "Strangely, I don't feel anything towards you right now."

"Of course you don't," you scoff. "You hate me. Hello? Have you suddenly become stupid or something?"

Seemingly lost in thought, Yoongi replies, "No, I mean like I literally don't feel anything right now towards you. I don't feel like I hate you right now—"

"Yes, I hear you. Now can you shut the fuck— wait what?" You pause and do a double take on what he just said.

What did he say? That he doesn't hate me right now?

"Look, I don't know what the fuck it is your scheming right now, but I just want to tell you to drop your crap, because I don't believe a single word you're uttering right now," you say, pouring water on a glass. You take a sip before resuming. "Stop saying bullshit, because I won't fall for it."

"I'm not telling you bull right now." He raises both of his hands in surrender. "Ugh, whatever. You probably have the mental capacity of a lizard for you to understand even if I explain—"

"Take that back right now," you threaten him. "Have you forgotten that you always come second to me? Don't get too cocky, you still don't know who you're messing with. It's been three years, you should know now that you can't beat me."

"Whatever you say so, Megamind." He fixes his glasses before returning to the dining room. You warily watch him go back to studying before you climb up back into your room.

Even though you were already inside, you still felt uneasy because of how peculiar Yoongi acted just a few minutes ago.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The gray cement road is replaced with the ivory snow, concealing everything underneath it. It's now the month of November, which meant that your parents are busy preparing for the holidays. That also meant that you had to help them too to your dismay.

You are sitting on your house's porch, a stick in your hand while doodling on the snow. Meanwhile, your father is occupied in attaching the Christmas lights on the gutters of your roof.

He calls your name, and you oblige. You step foot out into the snow weather, bits of frost coating your hair. You crane your neck up the ladder.

"Can you pass me the other string of lights?" he requests, pointing at the said lights sprawled on the snow. You grab it off the floor, taking the end of it. You spin it like a lasso before unleashing it towards your father, who catches it with ease. He laughs, "Nice one!"

You roll your eyes before returning to your earlier position. You begin to scribble again as your mind wanders off somewhere else.

For the past few weeks, you had noticed that something became different. And it was all because of a particular person who was supposed to be the hell of your life. Instead, it seems like he had now become pacified, and he decided that you weren't worth his time anymore.

A part of you feels extremely offended and infuriated because you feel that Yoongi doesn't see you as a menace anymore; that he was now confident that he can easily defeat you; that he doesn't see you as a competition anymore. Another of your part feels concerned and peculiar—as if something is missing. You don't feel the adrenaline pulsating through your veins anymore whenever you saw Yoongi.

When you crossed paths, he would only give you a smile of acknowledgement and then leave before you could even tell him a snarky comment.

Oddly, it was affecting you more than it should be. You were starting to think that maybe this was one of his tactics for you to get distracted. If it was, it was unfortunately working, and you were getting vexed as each day passed by.

You wanted Yoongi to lash out on you. You wanted to feel his anger radiating towards you. You wanted him to feel threatened. You wanted to be the one with the upper hand.

But instead, you were feeling none of those from him. It was rendering you to madness because even though you wanted to deny it so bad, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

And maybe, just maybe, you thought that something different was also brewing inside you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

November flew by in a blur and before you even knew it, you only had two weeks before midterms. You and your mother were busy setting up the Christmas tree. She was busy handing you the ornaments and garlands, and directing you where to place them.

"There," your mother says. "A little bit up. Nope, down. Nevermind, put it up again."

You groan in annoyance. "Mom, can you please make up your mind? My arms are starting to sore."

She gives you a sheepish smile from below. You feel goosebumps pricking your skin, disturbed by your mother's expression. It was the first time you saw that kind of smile from her.

"You're creeping me out," you say.

"Oh, it's nothing," your mother tells you. "It's just... recently I've noticed how you seem at peace now unlike before. It's nice..." she hesitates a bit but when she sees you only looking at her and listening intently, she finds the courage to express to you, "It's nice that we're finally having a mother-and-daughter bonding experience since... I don't know, maybe since you were one?"

You laugh. You actually laugh genuinely at what she says. You climb down the ladder, dusting your hands on your sweater. Peace. A word that its meaning which you know, but don't know what it feels. It is a foreign feeling and peculiar. Only then when your mother notices it you realize that maybe that was the right word you were looking for to describe your interiority right now.

But as soon as you take cognizance of it, your mother crashes it when she lets you know the news.

"Yoongi's family is having dinner with us on the Eve," she informs you, and your smile stiffens. "I expect that you'll be on your best behavior."

She looks at you expectantly, and it was enough to let her know that you aren't fond of the idea because you say,

"I'd rather be a Christmas feast to a cat, honestly."

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"To be honest, I'd rather feast on a mouse, mom," Yoongi says when his mother informs him their plan for the evening of Christmas Eve.

She laughs heartily. "Why would you say that, dear? Is it because of Y/N? Are you still uptight around her because of her gift?"

Yoongi shudders at the mere mention of your name for some unknown reason that he couldn't decipher. He denies it, shaking his head.

Then, her mother's eyes sparkled. She leans forward and whispers, "Then... have you gotten fond of her? You seem to be more nervous than before, Yoongi. Whenever we spend time with the L/Ns, you always seem so determined, and you look forward to spend time with their family. Why do you seem so uneasy now?"

"Err, it's not that, mom." Yoongi tries to distract himself by sipping on his iced Americano, but that doesn't ease his nerves. He regrets ordering his usual drink on the cold season because his shivering is amplified. "It's just... midterms' soon, and I'm just stressed, I guess."

"Stressed?" His mother repeats. "That's the first time I've heard that word from you, dear."

"Is it?" Yoongi chuckles awkwardly.

Mrs. Min emits another lighthearted laugh. "Yoongi, I know you more than anyone else. Don't even deny it, you have taken quite a liking for the L/Ns' daughter, haven't you?"

Yoongi gapes at his mother's proclamation. He immediately shakes his head vehemently. "Mom, that's ridiculous. Of course, I haven't. She hates me." At the last sentence, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But his bitter tone doesn't come unnoticed to his mother.

"Does she?" she innocently asks.

"Yeah." Yoongi sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line that resembled a bracket. It was a habit of his whenever he feels displeased. "She hates the mere sight of me, mom. And we compete for the first place, every time. She hates the fact that I'm always second to her because she's threatened that I might overthrow her anytime! It's annoying to be honest. But now, I'll just let her have her way. I'm just going to focus on studying for midterms. She's not worth my time, anyway."

Of course he was half-lying. He wanted nothing more but to continue this rivalry you two had. But these days, he had been in conflict with his inner self. He didn't want you having your way, he wanted to conquer you. But also, another side of him is troubling him. He didn't want to continue fighting you any longer for some reason. Yoongi doesn't know if he simply got tired of it or if it was because of something else that he couldn't pinpoint.

Either way, he didn't want to interact with you for the mean time. He had to figure whatever the shit was happening to his brain. Had he finally lost it?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You were serene as usual when midterms ended. You can't help but feel pride swelling on your chest as you listened to your classmates' complaints and sighs of regrets because they had a lot harder time getting through each question of the exams than you did.

But somehow, there was something missing; the thrill. Your mind wanders to your nemesis, wondering how he did in his exams.

When you were all dismissed, the hallways are instantaneously filled with students, celebrating their triumphs and the fact that they were now free from school. Instinctively, you try the look for a familiar midget with black bob hair and round-rimmed glasses.

And when you do see him, a smirk makes its way to your lips. You march confidently to his way. He doesn't notice your presence until you blocked his way, causing him to look up from his phone to acknowledge you.

"Hey, Potter," you drawl, playing with the ends of your hair. He rolls his eyes at the nickname you call him.

"What do you want?" he straightly gets to the point. You raise an eyebrow, a bit caught off-guard by his question.

That was a good one because yeah, what the hell did you want? Why did you approach him in the first place?

Yoongi unintentionally saves you from the embarrassment. His feline eyes narrow and he smugly smiles. "Oh, are you concerned about how I did well in my exams? Are you perhaps... threatened?"

You scowl, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get so brazen. I'm just here to tell you not to feel too self-assured. I know what you've been up to lately. You've been trying to distract me by not acknowledging my presence for the past few weeks. You think that that's all it takes for me to back down? Nah-uh. Nice try, Yoongi, but try harder."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow, fascinated at your assumptions. "So, that's what you've been presuming." Then, he shrugs, "Look, doll, I don't know where such thoughts of yours suddenly came from, but I'm just saying that that sounds like a you problem. I'm not doing anything, but it seems like you're turning into one of them, having delusions about me."

You cringe and sneer. "You can't be serious, Yoongi. Now, you're the delusional one!" The way he was smirking victoriously made you want to slap the mocking smile off of his face.

You decide to end the interaction, curtly pivoting on your heels and strutting away from Yoongi, whose piercing eyes never left your figure until you disappeared from his line of sight.

In the back of his mind, he is contemplating. He ponders if you were right. For the first time in his lifetime, he was considering what you said.

Meanwhile, you were stomping on piles of snows. You were furious at the lack of energy Yoongi was showing you. He really seemed like he didn't give a damn anymore about you. He was so laid-back and relaxed and that made your confidence dwindle a bit, wondering what had he pulled from his sleeves.

Your mood remains sour the whole time you walked home. People who passed by you probably thought that you were releasing dragon breaths if not for the freezing weather.

You were basically tramping on the floor of your living room, immediately catching the attention of your mother, who scampers out of the kitchen to check out the commotion. She sees you muttering incoherent words to yourself and you only stop when she gets your attention.

"Did something happen, Y/N?" she questions. "Why are you in a sour mood? Did something happen with your exams?"

"No, mom!" you immediately answer. "In fact, I aced the exams, I'm certain! You don't need to worry about anything. It's just that—" you abruptly stop. Your mother looks at you, waiting for you to continue but you don't.

Frankly, you're confused yourself, suddenly wondering why were you so worked up. You didn't have to worry about anything, you were a hundred percent confident that you did outstandingly in your exams.

"Y/N?" Your mother's voice pulls you out of your trance.

"It's nothing!" you exclaim. "Just tired. I'm going to my room, if you don't mind." You start going up the stairs. "Call me if you need help." Your voice echoes in the first floor.

Mrs. L/N blinks, finding your behavior strange lately. Yet, she shrugs it off and goes back to working in the kitchen.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"Y/N, please stop harassing the carrots," your mother says. "They did nothing to you."

You stop cutting the vegetable, noticing that indeed, the whole carrot was now mashed. You sigh, not realizing that you've been cutting angrily.

"If you're not in the mood, I can cook myself. You can go on and set the table instead."

You don't argue, abandoning the knife and mashed carrots before making way towards the cabinets where your mother kept the utensils for special occasions.

It was finally the day of your impending doom. Christmas Eve. Dinner with the Min family, and honestly, you didn't know what to feel. The last time Yoongi visited was when you and your mother had an argument right in front of him. It was also the day everything changed. You wonder if the argument that transpired traumatized him, rendering him to madness. Or maybe he was diagnosed with a disorder.

There I go again. Why the hell am I even thinking about him? Focus at the task at hand, Y/N—

You reach out for the stack of plates but one of them slips from your grasp, clattering and breaking on the floor. Your mother jumps, and she starts to scold you as you bent down and picked up the broken pieces.

"Y/N, seriously, what is going on with you?" she exclaims. "You've been so out of it!"

You sigh, fluttering your eyes close for a moment. When you open them, you wince, suddenly feeling blood rushing towards your index finger. You look down and see rivulets of ruby spilling out of your skin.

Mrs. L/N notices your trance and she follows your gaze. Her eyes widen and she gasps, instantly ushering you to rinse your wound and put a band aid on it.

You obey, grabbing the opportunity of ephemeral peace. In the bathroom, you dab the small laceration with Betadine, before wrapping it up with a band aid. Then, your ears register the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the door.

It didn't take you long to realize that the Min family has entered your residence. And that meant, Yoongi was also here. Your last interaction with him was at the school hallway, where you two had a small argument about which one of you was the delusional one. It was an awkward one, to be honest. It didn't feel like your previous fights.

You slap your forehead with your wounded hand, wincing and mentally cursing yourself because of your stupidity. It was ironic, to be frank. You were gifted with an incredible high IQ, but your EQ was equivalently low.

After a few minutes of attempts to calm yourself down, you finally step out of the bathroom, sauntering towards the living room to make your presence known. Mrs. Min acknowledges you, giving you a peck in the cheek. You awkwardly stand before her as she compliments your crown braid hairstyle and the baby blue turtleneck dress that you wore, matched with a pair of flats because you didn't do well in heels in cold weathers.

Her attention pans towards your father, greeting him with the same enthusiasm and you finally felt like you could breathe. But that's when you see him too.

Yoongi is standing in the sidelines, observing the interaction between the four adults. He is obviously avoiding your eyes but you don't notice it, of course. He could literally feel your burning stare on him that he was starting to feel his legs buckle.

However, all those went over your head. You pay heed on his outfit. He didn't seem... too bad. You acknowledge that he has a sense of fashion. He is wearing a pair of beige slacks, complimenting his skin tone. The black leather belt that hugged his waist is a contrast to his white button up long sleeve, a cream-colored knitted vest resting on top of it.

When you look at his eyes, you find him already staring at you. Clearly, he had completely failed avoiding at looking at you. You two continued to have a staredown when Mrs. Min calls the attention of the two of you.

"Y/N, Yoongi! Take your seats. Let's bless the food and eat!"

After dinner, the four adults in the room began to chat with the company of champagne and whiskey. Meanwhile, you and Yoongi were tasked to do the dishes. So, as much as to your disappointment, you were stuck with him. He soaps the dishes while you rinsed them. The situation was awkward because you two were enveloped in a uncomfortable silence. The only sources of sound between you were the voices and laughters coming from the living room.

Earlier, your mother had warned you to be in your best behavior for the umpteenth time, and you don't even fight her on it because 1) you didn't have the energy to engage in a war anyways and 2) Min Yoongi had been passive so you actually had no reason to go into a fit of rage. But still, there is a slight disappointment in you because of the lack of interaction you were having with the said boy.

It was like he had gone mute. To you, it's irksome but also, you were starting to feel concerned. However, your pride was more essential to you, so you don't ask Yoongi what has been bothering him lately because 1) he's your nemesis, you aren't supposed to care for his well-being and 2) it might be a part of his grandmaster plan of plotting your demise.

After drying your hands, you don't bother to wait for Yoongi. Passing by the adults in the living room, you silently exit through the front door to get some fresh air.

As if finally freeing yourself from constriction, you inhale the scent of snowflakes and exhale through your nose, an icy breath leaving your lips. You don't notice the front door opening once again. You don't notice the pair of footsteps padding against the soft snow. You only notice it when the footsteps stop beside you.

You turn your head slightly and see Yoongi, who's looking straight ahead. Cautiously, you take a step to your right to increase the distance between you two.

He notices instantly because he scoffs, "I'm not going to bite you."

"I was just making sure," you reason out. "Why are you here, anyway? Did your mom tell you to? You can drop the act now."

He looks at you in disbelief. "I didn't come out here because I was told to. I came here on my own accord."

You frown. "You're legit scaring me now. Will you stop it already?"

This time, Yoongi doesn't let his gaze leave your face. He is intently looking at you, as if scrutinizing every movement you made. Instinctively, you tuck your chin inside the collar of your turtleneck, hoping that it would shield you from his piercing eyes. It doesn't work out.

"I'm not doing anything, Y/N," he says calmly. "It's you who's overthinking—"

"Oh, stop!" You wave your hands at him. "I'm not stupid, Yoongi. You thought I wouldn't notice the way you're acting differently around me now? You don't seem to have that fiery eyes on me every time we talked. It's sickening, almost like you're mocking me."

A silence envelops the two of you, and you feel your cheeks reddening, partly because of the cold but mostly because of the boy who stood beside you.

"You know," he finally speaks. "It's not that difficult to admit to yourself that you missed me."

This time, you have the strength and courage to actually look at him dead in the eyes. "Are you planning to major in slapstick comedy? Because if yes, then I say go for it. Undoubtedly, you'll be the valedictorian just like you always dream of."

He snickers, tilting his head lightly as he reciprocates your incandescent gaze. "You're funny," he tells you.

"See?!" you exclaim. "This is what I mean! Why aren't you arguing back?" You stomp your foot.

He blinks, finding your question dumb. "Because I simply don't want to?" he answers albeit unsure of it himself.

You cross your arms and emit a scoff. "Sure, you do."

"Look," Yoongi starts. "If you're expecting me to argue with you, I won't. I already told you before, a few months ago, I don't abhor you as much as I do before."

"Why?" you ask and this time, he scoffs.

"Why?" he repeats. "For a person like you with immensely high IQ, you suck at reading the room."

Before you could protest, he interrupts you, making sure that your attention was only on him. He takes two steps towards you, decreasing the distance between your bodies.

"Y/N, I may be the bad guy but I'm not a bad guy," he says. "To be honest with you, I, myself, am confused too. I don't strongly loathe you these past few months and I've been questioning myself why either. But—"

He stops and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What happened to your finger?"

His question catches you off-guard, rendering you to caress the covered part of your skin. You flinch slightly when he holds your hand, raising it to get a proper look on it. His face scrunches and for the first time, you feel something somersaulting in your stomach. You didn't know if you liked it or not, but it was certainly making you feel discomfort.

When you start to feel overwhelmed, you pulled away from his touch, placing your hand to your chest. "I-I'm fine," you stammer.

"Are you sure?" he worriedly asks.

"Yes, I am!" You didn't mean to yell at him but you couldn't help it. He has been making you feel lots emotion. He was confusing you, and the more and more time you were out here with him, the more you were driving to madness.

"You know," he smirks. "If you could stop yelling at me for a second, I could show you much more fun and productive uses for that mouth of yours."

You gape at him, and you start walking backwards when he begins to take defiant steps closer to you. Every time you stepped back, he takes one towards you too. As your back hits the cold exterior walls of your house, you gasp lightly when Yoongi encages you between the walls and his arms, his hands falling on either side of you.

Light snow pelted on both of you but that isn't the reason why you flinch. The reason is because he leans close, increasing the proximity of your faces.

"Yoongi—" you begin to protest but he doesn't let you.

His forehead touches yours and you yelped slightly at the way he is treating you right now. His eyes flutter shut and he speaks in low manner that had you trembling in your position.

"Y/N, you're absolutely driving me crazy," he murmurs. "Like I said, I'm so confused too. My heart and mind are clouded because lately, you've been occupying my thoughts. I loathe the way you bewitch me whenever you use your sharp tongue against me. I despise how you can easily get under my nerves but also it satisfies me whenever you attempt to put me in my place, when you give me a taste of my own medicine."

He pauses, fluttering his eyes open. He leans away slightly, the warmth emanated from his forehead leaving you instantly.

"There is no other plausible explanation for this except for the possibility that... I have been harboring feelings for you for quite awhile now, Y/N." He exhales softly, as if a huge weight has been finally lifted off of his shoulders. "And it's not what you're thinking of. It's the opposite of it."

The world stops for a moment, the snowflakes stop falling, and the time stops ticking. You only hear his soft breaths that had never sounded so calm up until this moment.

"I like you, Y/N." He shows you a coy smile. "And right now, I'm surrendering to you. You can continue to hate me if you want, but it won't change my feelings for you."

Your heart is hammering against your chest wildly, and you only hope that Yoongi isn't hearing how loudly it was beating against your ribcage. As the silence between you two continues to prolong, the harder it was for you to formulate a coherent response.

A buzzing sound slices the still atmosphere and you usher Yoongi to check his phone. He does, sighing in dismay. You warily watch him as he opens his messaging app. You awkwardly stand before him as he scrolls through his chats.

His expression morphs into perturbation. The lump that had formed in his throat getting harder to swallow. You notice his adam's apple bob up and down and you start to wonder what happened.

Then, his eyes leave the screen, searching for yours. When your gazes collide, the confidence that he had a few minutes ago was now gone, replaced by anxiousness.

"I think..." He says reluctantly. "You need to see this."

He hands you his device and you impassively check out what he saw. Then, the blood drains from your skin, your own expression alters to skepticism first, then turns to perplexity once you double take on the image viewed on the screen.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Your mind going haywire for a fleeting moment. You felt even worse when you look up at Yoongi because his emotion was anything but jubilance. In fact, he rather looks like he was in agony.

But you don't care about that. Your anger only rises, traveling through your veins. At that very moment, standing before your own rival, you were beyond humiliated and enraged that he witnessed your downfall, the scarlet ink being the proof of it.

Top Performers for This Year's Midterms

1. Min Yoongi

2. L/N Y/N

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The Christmas jingles resonating all throughout the suburbs was unnecessarily aggravating you more than it should be for the reasons that you are making it sound like Christmas is mocking your once exuberant mood a few days ago, and because you didn't like the gift and news you received that night.

Despite the freezing weather's attempts to cool you down, it was heightening your fury instead. Four days after Christmas Eve, you kicked the sheets off yourself and impulsively decided that a walk in the suburbs will be a great idea so that you can finally turn your sour mood into a sweet one.

Alas, it fails miserably. You are still trampling on snow piles as your fervent eyes scan the shops in the sidewalks, desperately trying to look for something that can finally extinguish the fires within you.

But when you reach the end of the street, the tall buildings of stores turning into festive bungalows, and decorated apartments. The worst of all is the duplexes, because the decorations of both similar-structured houses have conjoined Christmas embellishments, letting everyone who passes by know that the two families living inside are more than acquaintances.

It stupidly reminds you of your family's current situation with them. More specifically, your situation with him.

When you finally reach the comfort of your bedroom, contradictory, it doesn't feel comforting at all. Everywhere your gaze lands, they remind you of him; of the fact that he had finally conquered you; that all your hardwork that year were for nothing.

Shutting your eyes close, you begin to recite the numbers of pi, pacing around your room. It was something that you always do when you're stressed.

"...190914564856692346034861045432664821339!" When the door of your bedroom creaks open, you couldn't help but yell nine, as if threatening the one who dares to interrupt your attempts to keep yourself level-headed.

You were about to glare but instead, you were surprised to see your father, peeking through the crevice of your door. You notice that he's slightly anxious because, well, you were screaming numbers.

A sigh escapes your lips and you shuffle towards the door, opening it wider. Your father takes this as a sign that he was invited in your room.

Your relationship with your father is very much uptight and timid which is why between him and your mother, you're less angry at him. At times though, you didn't know how to act around him because you feel like you don't know him. You never bonded with him. Except for that time you were helping him out with connecting the Christmas lights on your roof's gutters.

After that fleeting moment, the bond was gone, as if a scissor magically appeared to cut the strings between you two. You don't hate him for it, but sometimes, you wonder and daydream possible moments where you could actually bond without that suffocating rope forcedly tying you two together.

You wonder if in the past, in the years when you were still full of innocence, purity, oblivious of the histories of the ancient world; when you still didn't know how to count one to three; when you barely knew how to lift a muscle and take the first steps towards your father.

Had he ever squat down before you, his face full of sunshine, and encourage you to come to him with open arms? Tell you that you could do it! That you could make it to the heartwarming embrace of your father's arms?

But the more you try to dig any sort of memory from your lobes, nothing resurfaces. And you were back with the reality that, maybe, he didn't need and have to do all of those.

Because as far as your memory traveled back, you had been completely fine on your own. Maybe, you taught yourself how to walk, think, say your first word.

Because, you were gifted.

And now, as the years go by, you realize that the gift you have, may be also your curse.

It's a tightrope with both ends holding you up, urging you to keep on walking. A gift and a curse on either end, shouting at you—

Stop standing around!

The rope's about to break if you don't start moving another step!

What has gotten into you?!

You used to do this so effortlessly!

"Y/N."

The call of your father's soft voice pulls you out of your trance. You suddenly realize that you had been standing by the door stupidly and your father is looking at you with worry creasing his mature features.

"Oh," you say. "My bad."

You shut the door then turn your back towards your father. You amble towards your desk, attempting to fix the sprawled mess on it by carelessly shoving the scratch papers in your bin, keeping your ballpens and pencils in your pencil case, the zipper loudly being the only source of sound slicing through the deafening silence.

"Sorry about the mess," you say. "I've been busy."

"On your holiday break?" your father asks, chuckling lightly. The sound faintly makes your lips form into a small smile. But as soon as it came, it disappears.

"Yeah, well, I'm growing older. And that means the more I age, the more my ability to suck in information rusts."

Your father doesn't reply after that, so you continue to clean up your desk wordlessly. Once you had nothing to pick up and throw and keep anymore, you finally turn back around to face your father.

He's sitting quiety on the foot of your bed, and you take heed of the small box he's fiddling with his hands. The box is covered with red wrapper, with flurries of snowflakes as pattern.

He notices that your attention is on him, so he stands up from your bed and approaches you in a relaxing manner yet you can catch on the slight cautiousness along it. You decide not to mention anything about it.

He hands you the little parcel, and you accept it wordlessly, opting to wait for him to speak first.

He does. "I wasn't able to get you any gift on Christmas, and I hope I'm not too late. I had a bit of a hard time picking one, but I made sure I thought about it. Hopefully, you'll like this small present."

"Thanks, dad," is your only verbose reply.

He nods and after contemplating a bit, he decides to leave you to it. In your own solitude once again, you scrutinize the small box, tossing it lightly every now and then to guess what it was. You feel movement from inside, like a flow of something liquid.

Your curiosity makes you rip the wrapper apart and it didn't take long for the gift to make its apparition.

The gift is simple like its size, but to you, it holds a lot of meaning. It's a snowglobe, but the inside is what makes it unique. No, Santa Claus isn't there inside nor were the nine reindeers that pulled his sleigh—even the sleigh itself is absent. Rudolph isn't there which makes you slightly pout but it doesn't last long because staring back at you from the other side of the glass is a small girl with Iron Man's arm around her. He is almost hugging her but his other arm remains at his side.

You shake the globe in your hands, chuckling at the bits of snow encompassing the small figures inside.

Indeed, it reminds you of something. You and your father.

But for the first time in forever, you aren't longing. Rather, you are contented.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

It is still snowing a week after New Year. Nothing much happened. You only had a family dinner, watched fireworks, and jumped around because of your belief that you would grow taller if you do so.

But after the first day of the year, things went back to normal. The only difference is the relentless snow pouring everywhere.

Oh, and classes are resumed.

Miraculously, you don't feel as much anger as you did a few weeks ago. You don't know if it's because it's a new year so you just suddenly feel like oh, fuck it, it's been a long ass while, I should chill the eff out.

Weirdly enough, you expected to be really infuriated when your feet leads you to the bulletin board and scan it. You see your name, beside the number two. It sinks in to you of the reality that you're now second but oddly, you don't feel the particular element surging through your veins.

You thought everything's going well so far. And you must have a curse because every time you thought that all is well, that's when the real torrential typhoon arrives.

Tornados hit everywhere, and instead of rainshowers, you see hails vehemently falling on yourself. It hurts so much more than rain, but you had to get through it anyways. Or else, you would die getting shot by mere ice. It was gonna be embarrassing if your soul sees your grave with the words 'Cause of death: ice' engraved on your tombstone.

So, you make sure that you are under control when Min Yoongi does his usual entrance, greeting the student body with nods and smiles. It's slightly different now though, because some of them greeted him back with congratulations.

You resist your eye wanting to twitch when Yoongi's gaze finally lands on you.

A year ago and a year before that, you would always see his eyes fiery and intense, trying to get under your nerves with a mere eye contact. Now, however, his eyes hold on anything but anger. The sight of him doesn't infuriate you for the first time, but it does provoke you for another reason that you were afraid to unravel.

You desperately want to bury what you're feeling six feet below, because as much as you loathe it, you can't help but trail your mind back to that particular night when he had declared his feelings for you.

"I like you, Y/N."

Was that even possible? Was it possible, at all, to grow feelings for the person who constantly tormented you for the years you've known them? You couldn't wrap your mind around it, no matter how smart you are, it seems like you couldn't find any plausible explanation for such circumstances.

Not even when the devil himself is only three inches away from you, did you successfully come up with a conceivable reason.

Yoongi greets you but you don't respond. The crowd was anticipating what would your response be, and you refuse to give them the satisfaction. Instead, you walk past him, not even sparing a glance to any of the spectators. You also drown out their whispers, making you want to yell at them 'Why whisper when I would still hear it anyway, dumbos?'

You don't utter a single world, opting to force to smother the flames instead, maybe bury them deep within your ribcage, lock it with a key and throw it in the Altantic Ocean, hoping that it will land on the Titanic where no one could ever take it. Not even you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You spent the whole day in school cocooned in your hoodie, attempting to take naps despite of the loud voices of your teachers and classmates. But you only end up being wide awake, your eyes open, your face on the desk, seeing nothing but black. You succumb in yourself in the trenches of your own thoughts, and you finally drift off.

You don't know how long you've fallen asleep, but your consciousness slowly enters your systems, causing you to become suddenly aware of your surroundings. Unlike a few minutes—or hours—ago, the ambience is silent. Too silent.

When you open your eyes and move your arms slightly, your brows furrow in confusion when the darkness remains. You have no idea if your sense of hearing had heightened in the span of your sleep or if the sound is just extremely loud because you can hear someone breathing, as if they were just beside you.

Squinting your eyes, you brace for the brightness of the world to blind you, but you still see nothing.

You rub your eyes to adjust your sight in the dark. And you finally realize that it is night time. The stars are awake, looking down on you as they twinkle. The moon is round, as if it is luring you to spill your secrets.

Most importantly, you finally process the presence beside you. The main sound source of breathing.

Min Yoongi.

When you look at him, he's already staring at you. It reminds you of that certain night once again. Come to think of it, the situation you both are in is similar. It's night time again.

"What are you doing here?" It's you who breaks the silence. Your voice is slightly hoarse so you clear your throat.

"I could ask you the same." Yoongi shrugs. He leans on his desk, propping his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

"I fell asleep," you merely say.

"I figured," he replies. "But you slept through your classes? Even after it ended?Huh, I never took you for a deep sleeper."

"It's because of the weather." You grit your teeth, starting to feel annoyed at the exchange you're having with your nemesis.

Your bitter tone, however, doesn't come unnoticed to Yoongi.

"Why are you grumpy? Shouldn't you feel better after a nap?"

"You could say that I woke up on the wrong side of my desk."

He lets out a laugh at your response, and you furrow your eyebrows and frown because your intention wasn't to make a joke.

"Is that your awkward way of flirting with me?" He gives you a coquettish smile.

Your face distorts into disgust. "You're ridiculous."

"What?" Yoongi tilts his head. "You said you woke up on the wrong side of your desk, which is the opposite of where I am. Do you think you would've been in a less sour mood if it was my face you saw first?"

You mentally kick yourself for being slow. Moreoever, you also curse lowly because your heart stopped beating for a fleeting moment.

You also can't contain your irritation any longer. You grimace, making your vexation perceivable to the boy who sat beside you.

"You're really getting on my nerves," you say. "This was your goal all along, right? To deter me away from focus. This was your grandmaster plan all along. To get ahead of me. Well, guess what?" You abruptly stand up from your chair, the furniture screeching against the floor. The eerie sound reverberates through the whole room yet Yoongi doesn't flinch.

"Congratulations, Yoongi," you seethe. "Congratulations for beating me! Did you have fun distracting me? Also, cut the crap, will you? You weren't here because you wanted to set a romantic mood, and maybe try again in making me fall for you, yes? No, you don't have to go through all that bullshit. Not at all. Because right now. Right here, I am giving you the full permission of mocking me! Tada! Isn't this fun? It's all going well for you, isn't it, hm?"

You were now leaning forward, your face right in front of him. You gathered that much of your confidence because you already knew it would be your last. Because the following days, you would probably be drooping in humilation.

However, Yoongi stays put in his seat, his eyes void of any emotion you could decipher. He only looks at you. The silence envelopes the both of you again, and you were losing every bit of patience you had left within you.

But the silence breaks as soon as you acknowledge it.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Yoongi's question-declaration cuts you deep. Your breath hitches and you feel like someone had taken your lifeline.

"Wha—"

"You know," he speaks again. "For all the years I've known you, I always thought that even if we were in an apocalypse; if we were the last humans on earth, I would rather date a zombie that have myself associated with you. It was always easier that way, right?" He pauses, looking briefly at you before shifting his gaze at the silvery scenery outside. "It was easy... but now, it's difficult to think that way. Because in all my life, I have never even considered, thought about falling for you."

At the last word, his eyes meet yours and a thousand galaxies can be seen in his irises. You can see your own reflection in his eyes, unsaid words starting to spill out the more stars his eyes consumed.

"Your brutal words used to be my melodies, because whenever I hear you utter words of hatred at me, they become my symphonies. I was always satisfied having successfully gotten into your nerves. But now, they're like bullets to me. Your wicked words are curses to me. Whenever you express your loathe, they come across as daggers now. But they also bewitch me in some way, because I know that you don't vehemently hate anyone else as much as you hate me."

A soft wind kisses both of your skin, serving as the temporary rest between the overwhelming tension between you.

"But I can't help but think..." He moves from his seat, standing up from it and you are forced to stand properly as well.

He takes a step closer to you. "That maybe, just maybe, we are on the same boat."

"That maybe, the reason you're getting so worked up on me right now is because you feel the same way." Another step closer.

"That maybe, I'm not going insane. That this is all totally normal for me to feel." Another step closer.

The back of your knees hit the teacher's desk, and you yelp slightly at the familiar proximity of your bodies. The night of Christmas Eve haunts you back, but oddly, it doesn't asphyxiate you. Rather it dawns on you in a soothing manner, but also in a way that the weight of the world on your shoulders becomes a bit bearable.

The eventual arrives upon you and it hits you like a meteor plunging on the earth's surface, burying itself deep within the soil so that it becomes a part of the planet. Everything started to make sense to you at this very moment; why you cared so much about how well Yoongi did in every exam you took; why it seems that everything he does gets under your skin; why everything he says stuck to you the most, etching on your mind and it becomes a mantra in your head.

It had always been him. You had always loved that fucker, even more this moment of realization. And it terrifies you now more than anything. You wanted to incessantly succumb yourself under denial, but you knew you would only feel worse than you already are.

You can't push him away any longer, because the more you do, the more your world collapses, and sooner or later you will find yourself underneath the heap of rubble you created yourself. That no matter how vehement you scream for help, nobody will come to you.

But in the depths of your abyssal thoughts, you finally conjure the image of your worst enemy; the one who pulls you out of the demolished building; the one who embraces you and whisper you sweet nothings.

You unconsciously sought Yoongi in all seasons because he have always been the one who saw you; he's the cold wind that caresses your cheeks, the storm that torments you, the sunlight that blinds you, the water that pours on you so that you'll bloom.

And now, the autumn leaves that delicately descend on your palms, and you nuzzle your nose against his, the warmth emanating from him instilling in yours.

His lips ghost over yours, and he whispers, "Tell me to stop. And if you don't... I will take that as your indication that you're returning my feelings."

Yoongi's lips are soft when he brushes it against yours a few times before he presses deeper. His lips are sweet when you taste him the first time in your tongue. His kiss is deliberately and painfully slow but he fills you to the brim, taking in all of your cold breaths. His touch is gentle and tender, stroking the soft skin of your nape as he searches for an angle that can fully quench his desire for you.

It was nothing like you ever imagined, because you never did. Only in this moment, did you let your mind wander to dangerous territory. Your fantasies getting vivid as each second passed by as he drinks in your breathless exhales, strokes your hip lovingly.

Your eyes are still fluttered shut when the warmth of his mouth leaves yours, and you suddenly feel empty. When you open them, his beauty greets you and your eyes that once held fervid flames are extinguished into something much more gentle and fond.

That's all that it takes for Yoongi to know what you truly feel about him.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The blanket of snow dissipates, replaced by the freshly-bloomed flowers, coating the once melancholic pavement. Flocks of birds fills the void, the leaves rustle, and the world seems a whole lot livelier than before.

Furthermore, you are much more in a state of tranquility.

Spring break arrives sooner than you expected, and you are once again free from the bars of school. Lately, however, you don't deem that place like a prison anymore. It had become much more bearable and breathable for you to step foot on it.

One, because being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore (partly because you had a recent discovery that you pretty much enjoyed being at the bottom, if you know what I mean). Two, because you decided that you're going to use your gift in a much more calmer way, where you won't have to stress too much about your grades, as long as you continue to do well in every aspect of your academic performance.

And three, because you look forward for the rendezvouses your boyfriend plans every single week day.

Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and janitors' closets, discreet hand-holdings in crowded public spaces such as the cafeteria, playful banters in the hallways to put on a show for everyone to see, the thrill of getting caught whenever things got a little bit too heated between the two of you in the darkness of storage rooms.

Yeah, while everyone else still thinks you're each other's rivals, you two have a secret relationship taking place in the premises, right under their noses.

Yoongi and you had no problem about it at all. You two came into a mutual agreement that you were going to keep this rivalry thing going on only for the sake of the adrenaline rush pumping through both of your veins at the thought of your schoolmates possibly finding out what has been transpiring between the two of you.

You've never understood the meaning of love and hate until now. They are two emotions, not entirely the opposite of each other, but they belong to both sides of a coin. The coin wouldn't exist without the other. That's why you worry less about the future that awaits you, because it's Yoongi.

Yoongi had seen you in your worst and so did you had seen his. There's that fine line that exists between the both of you of love and hate, which is why you think that indifference is the opposite of love instead. Because with indifference, you don't give a damn about that person. That isn't the case for you at all on what you feel towards Yoongi.

He is the psychedelic drug you never want to stop drinking. It feels overwhelming at times, but you feel good. And you make sure to return the favor when the coin lands on your side.

Once again, he pulls you out of your reverie, intertwining his fingers with yours. He keeps your hands in the pocket of his coat, while you blush underneath his stare. He walks ahead slightly, pulling you along with him. You don't know where he'll take you on your umpteenth date, but you let him do as he pleases to you.

Yeah, this feels all right.

Maybe, you don't mind him being at the top at all. As long as it was always you who follows behind him.

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chantiepie · 28 days

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GET THIS MAN | JJK | part 1

ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫ ˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡ ˳♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡ ˳♡˳೫

Warning: Sensitive content ahead. Mature language.

Genre: Comedy with a Dash of Dark Romance.

Classificação: 18+

Summary: ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏʀɪɴɢ ᴊᴏʙ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ ᴄʜɪᴇꜰ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴜᴘꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ? ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏ/ɴ. ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ɢʀɪɴᴅ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴊᴇᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ, ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄᴀᴅᴇ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪɴᴛʀɪɢᴜɪɴɢ? ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱɪᴅᴇᴅ ꜰʟɪʀᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ʏ/ɴ ɪꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴇᴛʜɪᴄᴀʟ ᴅɪʟᴇᴍᴍᴀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ. ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʀ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ… ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴀʙʟʏ ꜱᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴇᴅ.

ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫ ˚∗ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡ ˳♡˳೫˚∗ᵕ̈♡ ˳♡˳೫

"This is relative."

"Surely she's trying to set up a date with him," you tell Jennie as you speculate about Emily's intentions, who was chatting enthusiastically with Jungkook. "I find it quite bold, she deserves applause."

The girl's hands kept gesturing while she lightly tapped Jungkook's arms with each laugh. She tossed her head back slightly, quite charmingly.

"Do you think she'll show up tomorrow with wet hair?" The brunette seemed intoxicated, pondering how far it would go, but couldn't help but tease her friend. "Aren't you going to do anything? She's stealing your guy."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm stuck in our anthropological moment of studying pre-coital rituals." Despite feeling slight pangs of jealousy, you were relieved that Jungkook didn't seem to be responding to the touches.

Recently, in your research, you had discovered other things about Jungkook, he didn't go to work every day because he wasn't just an employee, but rather the owner of the security company hired to handle the monitoring. So everything made more sense, since you really only saw him rarely.

"You need to stop and invest in that hottie," Jennie motivated you again. The brunette knew that in a way, her friend had been denying any chance of involvement for years, avoiding it by not allowing herself to live an adventure, always with excuses.

"Age difference, we practically work together, and he probably doesn't see me that way, he's clearly an MWFB," you said, grabbing a little more popcorn from the bag and quickly putting it in her mouth. "MWFB?" Jennie stopped for a second, looking at her friend with slightly raised eyebrows.

"You don't remember?" You look at her as if it were complete absurdity, placing your hands on your chest and bowing in a sign of betrayal. "Man we want to fuck but will break our heart." Still incredulous, you continue, "Besides, there's a chance, however small, that he might be bad in bed. I prefer to keep my fantasy intact."

"A man like that being bad in bed? With those arms, shoulders, face... Impossible, mark my words, when you finally go to bed with him, you'll be head over heels in love," the brunette says.

"Love from sex is what sticks," she adds.

"Even worse, imagine if I fall madly in love with him... It won't end well."

"At least try, you know? Life is here for us to make many mistakes, like sleeping with your ex who cheated on you on a weekend when you're feeling lonely," Jennie speaks as if it were a common situation, then returns to eating popcorn.

"It's not possible, I can't leave you alone for two days. Afterward, I want all the details. I need to go smoke before lunch ends, but you won't escape me," you say as you walk still turned towards your friend and then pointing at her a certain distance away.

"Go on, baby, go have some fun," Jennie encourages. "When was the last time you slept with someone? Besides Jimin... Hey, you owe me explanations, he was at your apartment yesterday." The last part comes out as a whispered shout, reminding you that you're still at work.

The blonde ignores her friend's comments as she walks to the elevator.

Seriously, Jimin was the guy who was always there for a good fuck, it was good, there was intimacy already and it was just that, but the comfort of always having someone to fulfill your needs left you in a stasis, not even looking for other people. That didn't stop Jimin from having several others, and you didn't even want that.

Jungkook, a clear danger zone that screamed "do not approach." Perhaps his imposing posture or being too handsome for reality intimidated you from getting closer.

"I need to get this out of my head," you say quietly stepping into the elevator. It was strange how in a few months a guy had managed to throw you off balance, awakening feelings you wished to silence.

Upon exiting the elevator, you walk directly to the open parking lot, a calm place where few smokers in the building were aware of, it was good to be at peace, even if for a short time. The sky was clear and without a sign of clouds, it would be a good night to go out drinking, Jennie and Ryan wouldn't refuse in any way.

With the cigarette between your lips, you begin to search for the lighter in the pockets of your light blue tailored pants, tapping them lightly and soon realizing you had left it in your bag on the eighth floor.

"Damn it, not this again, damn it," you say looking back at the sky, as if cursing the universe for your own forgetfulness.

"Hey, smart mouth, those words don't match your pretty face" a voice almost nearby startles you, and soon it had an owner. When you look to the side and come face to face with the infamous Jungkook, live and in color, in that black uniform that highlighted his toned body and a kind of strap attached to his right thigh.

"Here, you can use mine." The offer came almost in a whisper, like a soft melody that automatically made you shiver from head to toe.

Still not reacting much to the tragic coincidence and with the fact that you were hearing his voice for the first time, you quickly avert your gaze before you could get into a more embarrassing situation. You just say thank you while still internally berating yourself.

'Stupid'

Crosses your mind at the same moment that you're extending your hand and quickly touching the older man's fingers. Soon, your cheeks are tinged with a light shade of pink that you pray has gone unnoticed and remained hidden by the wind blowing through your hair and covering most of it, but Jungkook noticed the shyness and your shoulders shrinking.

He observed the woman beside him again, reaching out to return the lighter. "You can keep it, I'm not much of a fan of pink." Still staring at the horizon, you tuck the lighter into the tight pocket of your pants and remain quiet. Jungkook noticed a certain restlessness, you were tapping your foot lightly on the ground. Did he do something wrong?

Perhaps your attitude had made you uncomfortable, but throughout this past year when your company was hired to take care of the building's security, he had never bumped into anyone else in that part of the parking lot, especially not a clearly beautiful woman. Most people stayed in the company's smoking area where they gathered to talk.

The older man noticed. He was used to women trembling beside him, but that didn't please him. He knew that, because of his demeanor while on duty and some tattoos on display, he could create a certain discomfort in the environment.

Before he had the chance to question anything, he saw the unknown blonde woman extinguishing her cigarette in the ashtray and letting out what he presumed to be a "thank you" almost immediately, leaving faster than a ghost from his side.

He couldn't help but notice her hips swaying as she left. He felt like a stranger because his eyes immediately fell on her butt, and only one thought lingered: "Fat and round butt." He liked that.

He shook his head slightly and took another drag of his cigarette, trying to push those thoughts away before getting excited, she sort of fit his type. As he leaned in to discard the butt in the ashtray, he came across a cigarette that was almost untouched. 'She didn't even smoke half of it.'

That brief interaction was enough to turn to the one who would never judge him, or be judged, since we're talking about Jimin. The moment your feet touched the elevator entrance, you opened the chat.

Y\N: Are you free tonight?

Before you could close the app, the "typing" next to Jimin's photo appeared.

Chimchim: I was at your place yesterday, and you're already craving me again? Damn, has your fertile period arrived already? 🥹.

Inevitably, your eyes rolled.

Y\N: Just answer the question, please...

Chimchim: I'm always free for you.

Y\N: To spend the night too?

Chimchim: I knew it, fertile period. I'll be at your place at 10 tonight.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, you definitely needed some relief. Not that Jennie isn't a good listener, but you wanted someone who was far from the situation and could bring strategies to resolve your frustration. And who better than the world's greatest flirt?

The day passed quickly.

With so many tasks related to employee payments and meetings with directors, you hardly had time to think about anything else. Almost, since at the door leading to the exit to the parking lot, you saw the security guard smoking with his back turned. Upon realizing this, you turned around and ran to the other exit, hoping not to miss the subway.

After finally arriving home, you take a long, hot shower, apply moisturizer, and put on a pajama consisting of a shirt and shorts, not worrying too much about Jimin's visit, as you were used to seeing each other in much worse situations.

You decide to open a wine that you received as a gift from Jennie and hear the doorbell ring by the time you finish your first glass. You walk to the door.

"Hello, Mochi.."

Before you could even complete your sentence, soft lips are on yours, hands gliding around your waist and pushing you into the apartment. You hear a loud bang as the door is kicked shut by Jimin.

"Mmmm darling, daddy's home, can't get enough of that mouth of yours." A mischievous grin plastered on his lips.

You didn't call Jimin for this, well, actually you did, but not just for this.

You place both hands on his shoulders and with a gentle push, you step back.

"Easy there, I need to tell you something." Jimin leans against the nearby wall, running his fingers across his lips, wiping away some saliva. The grin remains, though it fades slightly.

"Are you pregnant? You know, when I say daddy's home, I didn't mean it literally.."

"Oh God, Jimin, no. I just need advice, and you're the one who can help me. Besides, if I were pregnant, who's to say you'd be the father?"

"Okay, you have a point, but we both know I'm your go-to guy." He straightens up, walking past you and heading to the small kitchen counter, pouring more wine into the glass, then taking a sip.

"You can talk to me, above all, we're friends, S\N." He was right, despite the playful banter, as time passed, the intimacy between you grew.

You tell him about work and how you're feeling lost, mentioning Jungkook and your interest in him, and the interaction you had during lunch. And it seems that was the only thing Jimin heard.

"100 percent sure he'd fuck you if you asked."

"Jimin... I don't know if you noticed, but I'm in crisis." You sit beside him, grabbing another glass, since yours was stolen by the platinum-haired man.

"I like your lips " he whispers, leaning in close to your face, "when they're around mine, of course, because when you decide to speak... You just annoy me." And he makes a disappointed face. You huff and roll your eyes dramatically.

"I think you worry too much, he's not that much older, he's not even really an employee of the company where he works. Let's do this, on Friday I'm hosting a bike event at my PUB, invite Jennie and Ryan, that way, we'll have fun like old times."

"But damn. I feel like a teenager."

"Shhh, stop overthinking." Jimin gets up and gives a small slap on your left thigh, causing it to automatically open slightly. Without wasting time, he positions himself between them, taking the glass from your hand and drinking the remaining red liquid, which dribbles a bit at the corners of his lips. "Now." His fingers go to your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "Let's enjoy ourselves."

On the other side of the city, right in the most secluded corner of the bar, a group of men decided to stay to drink beer. Among these men was Jungkook, whose mind wandered far away, recalling the events of the morning. He wondered if he was delirious to notice the blush on the girl's cheeks when their hands touched. Despite trying to push the matter aside, it slipped out. "Who's the blonde who was smoking in the parking lot today?" he inquired, trying to appear nonchalant, although he failed in that attempt.

"I think you're talking about Y\N, right? The blonde from the eighth floor," replied Taehyun, with a suspicious look at the question, taking another sip of his warm beer.

"Blonde from the eighth floor?" Yoongi intervened.

"Yes, the cute one, with the nice little butt, who always comes running, smokes in the top parking lot during breaks... She started at the office about two years ago or so, and, if I'm not mistaken, she's single," Taehyun said again, provoking a strange sensation in Jungkook's stomach. He didn't understand, but he didn't like the way his colleague spoke. Despite this, he felt excited about the last piece of information, but quickly tried to push any hint of interest away, shaking his head lightly before taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Interesting question of yours," remarked Namjoon, his partner, holding a sly smirk, prompting the other two to join him in giving the youngest a teasing look.

"Very funny, guys. Remember that I'm the one who schedules your shifts," he said, getting up from the table. "Well, it's already getting late for me, I need to go home."

"Stay a bit longer with us, JK," Taehyung insisted, with a whiny voice.

"I said I wasn't going to stay long. I'm too tired to go to work without getting enough sleep."

"Y\N..." he whispered quietly as he drove straight to his apartment. Her name echoed in his mind, and a feeling of curiosity seized Jeon.

Hey, just dropping by to say that it's going to be a mini-series, so it will have between 3 to 5 parts.

#Yoongi #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts #jiminfanfic #romcom #army #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook x reader

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mae-gi-writes · 11 months

Text

It’s (just so) awkward | jungkook (bts) - part two

No way. We’re too different and he’s so—so black and white. A straight-up yes-or-no kind of guy. And I’m not.”

Genre: nerd! Jungkook x outspoken! Reader, university! Au, idiots to lovers au, kim changbin cameo (skz)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

----

"It's just you and me, and the song on repeat in my head." — Fall Into Me, Forest Blakk

----

“Do you think that there are people out there looking at the sky and wondering what we are?”

Jungkook tore his gaze off from his phone long enough to raise a brow at you, the kind of look he gave you whenever you asked something out of the blue. You sat there, head tilted back and legs dangling from the edge as your eyes trailed through eh throng of stars dotting the sky.

“Scientifically speaking, no planet can inhabit human life like earth does,” he answered as he went back to his phone, fingers flying away on the keyboard, “so your point is invalid.”

You sighed, then looked at him, “do you have to keep looking at your phone? I thought you were the one who told me phones weren’t allowed when we’re talking.”

He had the decency to look guilty as he gently pushed his phone back into his pocket, “sorry,” he mumbled, “but I stand by my theory. Your assumptions are too far fetched to be reality. There’s no oxygen up there, so it’d be pretty much impossible for planets to have any signs of life—“

“But what if they adapted to something else? What if they didn’t need oxygen to live?”

“They wouldn’t be called humans then.”

“Exactly my point.” You looked back up to the starry night, admired the glittering stars filled with the entirety of humanity’s wishes, “you really like her, huh?”

the question threw him off guard. He blinked at you like a deer in the headlights, “who?”

“Sara,” you tried to smile, though it felt as though your face was cracking in two, “you like her, don’t you? Isn’t that who you were texting up to this point?”

“Yes, because she takes good notes and I would benefit from them,” he pulled his knees up to his chest before leaning upon your shoulder, hair tickling the side of your face as he did so, “why are you asking so many questions about Sara? You keep bringing her up every time.”

In the darkness that surrounded your figures, your lips trembled with the desire to spill out the thoughts that had been roaming in your head rent-free for the past few weeks. As you’d watched him and the said girl get closer with each passing day, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being left behind, which was absurd, considering that you were always the one dragging Jungkook along to all kinds of parties or events because he was just so awkward and blunt that no one dared to approach him.

Yet, this situation seemed to be reversed now, and you wondered briefly whether Jungkook could feel your absence as much as you felt his.

“Sorry, I guess I was just curious,” you finally said to break the silence buzzing with growing awkwardness, “would that be such a bad thing though? To spend more time with her?”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“It depends whether that’s what you want to do.”

“Why would I want to spend more time with her?”

“Because you—I don’t know,” you tried to chuckle, “because maybe you might like her?”

Jungkook went silent at that and something in your heart punctured in two. Jesus Christ, Y/N! You screamed at your brain, get a hold of yourself! What was wrong with you? You didn’t own him, nor did you care about who he fell in love with!

Right?

….right?

“You’re not going crazy,” Yoona spoke when you finally decided to spill the beans the day after. It was clear from your face that very morning that you were up all night tossing and turning about whether you actually held feelings for the said young man, “I think you’re jealous because he’s spending more time with Sara than he is with you.”

“I’m not jealous,” you snapped despite the flaming red heating up your cheeks, “I’m just…worried.”

“Sure, and you’re in denial.”

Denial? We’re you in denial? You kept on thinking about what that meant to you, which did not go unnoticed by Changbin a few days afterwards when he strolled into the art lab to find you pulling out strands of your hair in frustration.

He nudged your shoulder with his arm as he took a seat next to you, flashing you a charming yet mischievous grin as he took in your face, “what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing,” you grumbled. But it was clearly not nothing, and as he pushed at you to confess, you did reluctantly, hating the fact that you were weak enough to crumble under his hard stare. When you were done talking, Changbin merely threw his head back in laughter and caused a few people from the lab to glance his way in half curiosity and concern.

You swatted at his arm, “stop laughing!” You hissed with narrowed eyes, “it’s not funny—stop Changbin!”

“Sorry sorry,” he wiped at the stray tears dotting the corner of his eyes, “I just—I knew it. You fucking like him, huh? And now you’re being a jealous little bitch about it.”

“I’m not—“ anger flared through you, “—I’m not a jealous little bitch!”

“And I’m not an asshole,” he rolled his eyes, “get over it. You’re jealous. It’s crystal clear why. Loser boy stops paying attention to you and suddenly there’s a new girl in his life. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

You hated the fact that he was right, “I hate you.”

“I know,” his grin widened, “but you know what? At least I’m honest. Why don’t you try it sometime with loser boy? I’m sure he’ll find it pretty fucking amusing.”

“I don’t—I don’t like him, and I’m not jealous.”

“Then would you accept to go on a date with me?”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious.

“I’m asking you to go on a date with me, idiot.”

“But—But—Why?”

You felt your neck flush with embarrassment. Was he being serious right now?

“Because for one; you can make him jealous. And two; because you’re kinda cute and I think I’ll have a good time,” he winked at you then, causing you to flush even redder.

“Uhm—“ this was too much information to take in at once and you excused yourself in haste, surprised that Changbin let you go freely without expecting any response. You managed to get out of the lab and into the right bus, and it was only then that you tried to mull over everything that had just happened. Changbin asking you out was the most shocking turn of events, but maybe he was right. Maybe you needed to know whether Jungkook would react just as you did. Maybe you needed to give Jungkook a taste of his own medicine.

Which was why you agreed to the date.

———

“With who?”

Jungkook was looking at you with wide eyes behind his spectacles. He’d been working on his architecture assignment while keeping you company in a nearby campus cafe when you dropped the bomb.

“Changbin,” even the words sounded forced coming from your mouth, but you keep going, “I thought it’d be fun to give it a try…I’m single, anyway. So why not?”

“Changbin.” Jungkook’s eyes were darting right, left and center, “you’re going to go on a date with Changbin,” he repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Do you like him?”

“Hm, kinda. Yeah.”

“What do you like about him?”

“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “—he’s funny. And…kind. When you get to know him,” you hurriedly add when confusion breaks across his face, “we get along well.”

Jungkook didn’t look convinced, “but he doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t say that,” you huffed, “and plus, does it matter?”

“Yes. Because I’m your friend,” he paused, “your good friend.”

“Well does Sara like me?” You shot back.

“Yes.”

“Have you asked her?”

“…No.”

“Then that doesn’t count,” you shook your head before leaning back against the library couch.

He finally stopped typing to look at you, a frown furrowing his eyebrows, “why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because girls don’t like it when other girls are around their potential boyfriends.”

“But I’m not her boyfriend.”

“Do you want to be?”

He shrugged, “what does that mean?”

“Well…kinda like, you know, doing stuff together. Holding hands, spending time together, hugging each other on your bad days—“

“Then doesn’t that make you my girlfriend?”

You almost choked on your own spit, “uhm—“

He paused for a second, “we already do all these things.”

“Well yeah, but you do other stuff too. Like, kissing and making out and going on dates and stuff…” you trailed off without knowing how to continue the conversation so that it wouldn’t turn awkward.

Jungkook’s wide eyes turned to give you a look filled with both shock and worry, “Is that what you’re going to be doing with Changbin?”

“Wha—no! It’s just a date! A friendly one, we’re getting to know each other,” you were quick to swat away his accusations.

“Well I do not approve,” Jungkook stated, “but it seems you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I have, and I’m going to have fun.”

In all honesty, Changbin’s suggestion was a welcome distraction for you to push back all those weird thoughts you’d been having about Jungkook lately. It happened sometimes, right? You were friends, so of course you would feel a little weird and awkward about his newly piqued interest in other girls.

Right?

And plus, Changbin was kind of cute. In that rugged, dishevelled manner. As cute as a sulky dog.

Which was why you were more than a little surprised to find Jungkook beside Changbin when you arrived to your desired destination. Your jaw dropped, eyes going wide as they flitted between one and the other.

“What are you doing here?” You screeched, wanting to bang your head against something. You had agrees to this to make you forget all about Jungkook. So what were you supposed to do now?!

“Changbin thought it would be fun to invite Sara and I,” Jungkook said, “I thought you would be happy.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him, “that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Hey, the more the merrier right?” Changbin grinned mischievously, the kind of grin that made you want to slap it right off.

In a desperate attempt to set things straight, you turned back to Jungkook, “I thought you didn’t like arcades—“

“Oh relax Y/N, why are you so stiff?” Changbin cut you off, “it’s a double date. I’m sure Jungkook will love it just as much as you will.”

You opened your mouth to protest only to find none other than Sara bounding up to tour group with the biggest smile on her face, “I’m so ready for this!” She squealed, “I haven’t been to the arcade in so long!”

If you were feeling bad about yourself initially, it was nothing compared to how you felt now seeing her all dressed up in a cute outfit while you had just opted for jeans and a simple t-shirt. This feeling merely grew like a weed spreading through your body as the group decided to tackle the racing games first.

“Y/N hates racing games,” Jungkook said as they approached the arena already filled with people. It seemed as though there was already an ongoing race, with two boys neck to neck for the first place, “maybe we should start with something else.”

“But I like racing games,” Sara whined with a pout, causing you to roll your eyes inwardly. There was a whoop as the winner jumped up and ran out, followed by the loser grumbling under his breath.

“It’s fine,” you said to Jungkook before gesturing towards the now vacant seat, “I’ll sit out on this one.”

On and on it went, the torture of having to restrain yourself from pulling Sara’s hair out despite the fact that she wasn’t even all that bad to begin with. Actually, she was quite a nice girl and you could even enjoy her presence, if not for the fact that it was clear as day she was smitten with your best friend.

And it didn’t seem like your best friend minded either, from the looks of it. They spent the entire afternoon glued to each other’s side and it took everything in you not to smash something when you spotted a plushie cradled under Sara’s arm when they found their way back to you and Changbin who were currently indulging in a zombie fight. Or rather, you were indulging and he was making fun of you for it.

“Well, seems like you two had some fun,” Changbin said cheerfully.

“Shut up Changbin,” you muttered before turning away. This whole afternoon was starting to make your head hurt, “I’m going home.“

“Y/N—“ you ignored Jungkook’s call in favour of walking away as something snapped off between your heartstrings. You bit down onto your lower lip, restraining it from trembling as you focused on getting as far away as fast as you possibly could.

But a voice pierced through the cacophony of sounds to call your name and though you wished to ignore it, you had no other choice but to turn around when it seemed to get closer to you— to be faced with none other than a dishevelled Jungkook.

“Why are you upset?”

You almost laughed at his question. Indeed, no one was more blunt than Jungkook. The back of your throat tightened.

“I’m not upset.” You managed to answer.

“Then why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re angry at me or something. It’s scaring me a little.”

“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “can’t you just drop it this one time? I’m tired and I want to go home.”

“I’ll come with you—“

“No,” you cut him off more firmly than was necessary, “you stay with Sara. She needs you.”

“But—“

“See you around, Jungkook.”

And before he could say anything else, you were walking down the pavement like there was fire at your heels, glad that you didn’t turn back to watch Jungkoo gaze at you until you disappeared around the block.

———

I don’t like him.

I don’t like him, you kept chanting. I don’t like him.

what was there to like? Not his stuck-up fashion sense that made as if he’d stepped out of a 90’s movie, not the unflattering way his hair was glued to the sides of his face, and definitely not the way he chortled whenever he found something really funny, an ungrateful act at its best, surely.

But dear god you would’ve been lying to say that you hadn’t been thinking of Jungkook for this past week.

Midterms were coming up and winter was making its arrival known, the smell of pumpkin spice lattes and hot cocoa drifting through the food hall campus as groups of students scattered around with textbooks perched precariously atop tables to cram everything they could last minute.

To distract yourself from those weird, alienating thoughts about your best friend, you decided to do the same. Unfortunately for you, Yoona and Jimin thought you were being utterly and unbelievably stupid.

“Why can’t you two just make up and then everyone can be happy?” Jimin asked in exasperation one day when he stumbled in on you and Jungkook exchanging stiff greetings (mostly you though) before parting ways.

You glared at him, “he’s the one hanging out with Lee Sara, not me.”

“Well he says that you seeing Sara makes you mad, so obviously he’s going to try to steer her away from you,” Jimin explained as he flipped open his computer science textbook, “you know how his brain works, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize his intentions.”

You grumbled out an agreement between sips of your too-strong coffee and had to admit to yourself that Jimin was right. Jungkook had been doing it with all the right intentions. He never did understand the concept of jealousy and envy and the horrible desire to have someone to yourself. And that was exactly what you felt.

So it didn’t take you by surprise when the said young man turned up Friday night with a bag of donuts in hand and some hot chocolate in the other, claiming that you two had made plans for the evening. Something about a study session that you yourself had forgotten about until you checked your phone calendar.

“You didn’t have to,” was what you grumbled out as you let him in and flopping down onto your couch as he proceeded to pull off his shoes by your doorway, “that was a long time ago. It’s not like I was prepared to expect you.”

“That’s quite alright. I’ve seen your place in worse shape,” Jungkook replied. He placed the food on your coffee table before pulling out his textbook and you watched him, wondering why in the world did he make your heart twist and turn and snap with endless turns of emotions when there were so many other men out there who at least understood the concepts of relationships.

No. I don’t like him, you chanted, I’m just being jealous. A jealous best friend.

“Why did you come?” The words blurted out of your mouth before you could stop them. You quickly averted your eyes when his flickered up in curiosity.

“Because we agreed to have a study session at your house,” he said simply, as logical as ever, “we agreed on it a few weeks ago.”

“Right, forgive me for not remembering,” you said through clenched teeth, “but you didn’t have to ditch Sara for me—“

“Do you not like Sara?”

“What?”

“Do you not like her? You keep mentioning her every time we’re together. And then Jimin said something weird to me last week,” Jungkook shifted to face you better and that made you notice that for the first time, he was in sweatpants and a normal hoodie, and his hair —his hair was down and freshly washed, hanging over his face.

Cute.

You were so distracted by his appearance that you almost missed his little speech, “what did Jimin say?”

“That I wasn’t giving you enough of my time and attention, which is why you keep being mad.”

That little fucker. You were going to kill this man. You swallowed and leaned back against the couch, “that’s not true.”

“Then you’re not mad at me?”

You didn’t know how to answer his question without lying and knowing Jungkook, he was good at sniffing that out. So you changed the subject instead, “hey, I think we should order some chicken. Do you want some?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows dipped into a frown, but he didn’t push it and agreed on ordering some takeout before you both settled into comfortable silence. Snow drifted down outside your window pane as the night wore on and the more you focused on anything that wasn’t Jungkook, the easier it was to fill the sudden awkward silence that prevailed, merely broken by the shuffling of papers and the scrape of pen marks.

“You’re not in your Jungkook clothes,” you suddenly asked out of the blue, almost regretting it when Jungkook’s curious gaze searched your face.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing together, “Jungkook clothes?”

“Yeah, clothes that you always wear. Aka your shirt tucked into pants. And what’s up with your hair? It’s all like—casual.”

He touched his tuft of hair self-consciously, “I just took a shower. I can’t put gel in it right after showering.”

You crossed your arms over your chest before you leaned back against the edge of the couch, your knee brushing his as you crossed your legs, “so you do know how to dress like a normal human being.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jungkook flipped through his physics workbook as he spoke, “I don’t think t-shirts are appropriate to attend lectures. They’re not flattering at all and show lack of respect.”

“Oh because you think tucking your shirt into your pants shows respect?” You snickered impulsively, causing Jungkook to scowl at you as he said, “well I never complained about your lack of clothes.”

“Sorry sorry,” you tried toning down on the laughter, “it’s just—my bad Jungkook. I didn’t mean to offend you and your…casual clothes.” Your voice broke into another round of laughter at that and Jungkook’s ears reddened before he flung a pillow at your face.

“Ouch,” you groaned, rubbing your nose from where it had bounced off, “that was a bit brutal.”

“I don’t recall you deserving any type of gentle treatment,” he retorted, “now let me finish my physics assignment otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

Truth to be told, you both finished around midnight and agreed on going out for some late midnight snack, quickly zipping up your coat and boots before shoving a beanie on your head.

“Wait,” Jungkook said just as you were about to open the door, and you felt his hand — it was warm and big, bigger than you thought it was — at your cheek, pushing a few strands of hair under your beanie.

The action caught you off-guard and you blinked, noticing just how close Jungkook was. So close that if you moved, your nose would brush against the nape of his neck.

“There,” Jungkook leaned back and all the warmth was gone, leaving only your reddened cheeks in its place.

No ice cream parlor seemed to be open at this time, forcing you to settle on some ice cream sticks from the convenience store. You sat outside on the freezing steps, butts going numb as you indulged in the sweet treat.

“That’s so good,” you mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate ice, “it’s been a while since I’ve had ice cream.”

“I’m not particularly a fan,” Jungkook ate his own stick of vanilla cone, “but this one is not bad.”

“Not bad, but you’re still eating it.”

“Mostly to accompany you.”

“Oh I’m touched,” your tone dripped with sarcasm, “you do that a lot with Sara too? Accompany her because she likes doing things that you necessarily don’t?”

“Y/N,” the way Jungkook said your name had you pause, eyes flickering over to his face only to see that he was already watching you, dark orbs swirling with something you couldn’t quite place.

When he spoke next, his voice was soft, yet firm:

“I don’t really appreciate you talking about Sara this way.”

Your throat went dry, “i—I didn’t—“

“You might be a little envious that I spend time with her, but she is my friend. As you are. You do not have to feel the need to bring her down just because you are a bit envious—“

“I am not envious,” you snapped back automatically, anger curling though your stomach like a rising flame, “I just—I’m just trying to say that people aren’t necessarily who you think they are, Jungkook. You should know that.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long, drawn-out moment, “I appreciate your concern, but not this way Y/N.”

It broke something inside your heart, the way he kept on tugging down your pride and your walls like he’s having the time of his life ripping it apart at the seams, and you couldn’t help feeling the sudden clog of emotion at the base of your throat at how serious he was being about this. He’d never spoken this way to you before, this was a first.

And it hurt.

“Fine then,” you murmured out. You had finished the ice cream by then and wrapped it back up in its package before tossing it into the trash with more force than necessary, “I won’t do that anymore. And I’m sorry if that upset you.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook called as you turned your back on him, “what is it that you’re not telling me? You have that face again.”

“What face?” You play dumb. Since when was Jungkook so invested in knowing every facial expression you possessed?

He pointed at you, “that. You look mad at me, but not quite mad. There’s something else that you’re not telling me.”

“I’ve already told you everything,” you tried to laugh, “it’s just how my face is—“

Jungkook suddenly leaned in close. Too close. So close you saw the sparkles in his doe eyes and a yelp died in the back of your throat, “that’s not true and you know it.” He murmured, sounding so much more like a man rather than himself that it caused goosebumps to rise along the back of your arms.

“Fine,” you quickly scrambled for some space, hating the way your heart seemed to beat out of your chest and you wondered briefly whether he could hear it too, “I just feel like you’re not the same anymore. We barely hang out and—and I just don’t like sharing you. I’m a jealous bitch, alright? That’s it. Are we done now?”

“So you were angry at me for spending too much time with Sara.”

“Well—yes, but—“

“Why?” He cut you off, dark eyes so intense on your face that it made you want to squirm. You held your ground though, biting down on your lower lip and curling your fingers into your sweater sleeves.

“Why…what?” Again, you played dumb even though something in your heart resonated at that. Realization washed over you like a tidal wave the more Jungkook kept on gazing at you, and you back at him.

There was something. Of course there was something. You were an idiot all along to not have listened to Changbin in the first place.

You were an idiot. In love.

Shit.

“I need to go,” you scrambled back too quickly for him to grasp your arm and said without looking at him, “I’ll see you around Jungkook. No need to walk me back.”

You didn’t wait to hear Jungkook’s protest as your feet took off on the pavement, legs pumping with adrenaline and panic until you reached the confines of your flat. Only then did you slide down to the floor and lean your head back against the door, wondering when you had signed up for such an ordeal.

And why, out of all people, was it Jungkook?

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flospurpura · 8 months

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this movie made me squeal and feel the butterflies

#10 things i hate about you #heath ledger #julia stiles #kat stratford #patrick verona #romcom #90s movies #romance movies #they were the best #the chemistry #crying screaming throwing up #movie polaroids #polaroid #bts polaroid #on set photos

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harperssalamander · 1 year

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I am not ok [x]

#glen powell #sydney sweeney #romcom glen #romcom bts #Glen’s arms

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selfieignite · 1 year

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Karen Gillan likes K-pop.

2023.04.18 Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3 press tour in South Korea

2020.01.17 Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle press tour in Brazil

Plus a scene of Karen Gillan dancing to Crayon Pop with John Cho and Keith L. Williams on Selfie (2014).

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eleni-cherie · 2 years

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lonely hearts club ✨ || kth au - chapter 0.6

“lonely hearts club // do you want to be with somebody like me?”

maybe single parents are meant to be members of the lonely hearts club.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: single parents au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

»»»

"Yam-yam!" Taehyung nodded with a serious look. "Yes, yam-yam." "Blrrrrr." "Blrr?" He frowned as he held the baby up. Looking at her peerie. Sure, she was way too young to shape any comprehensive words, but he still wished he could understand her baby language. "Blrrrrrrrr," Ari repeated, sticking out her tongue while making a squeaking sound. Her eyes staring intensely at the rattle in her hand. Shaking it violently. "Blrrr! Blrr!" She was clearly enjoying the sound of the toy a tad too much. Not able stopping herself. And he almost regretted giving it to her. He had only wanted to play with her a little on his free time. He hadn't expected her to ignore him like that. His eyes scanned over the various objects she was using as toys, which were scattered next to him on the floor and grabbed something else for her. "Here, Ari. What about this instead?" He wasdangling a bracelet in front of her eyes. Observing her expectedly only to get the cold shoulder from the baby. Her not being very impressed by the bracelet, preferring focusing on her colourful rattle with the ear-piercing sound.

Taehyung sighed and took a look at the bracelet in his hands. Not recalling having bought it for her. His eyes widened when remembering eventually. It was the one Cassandra had given her on the day of application. Without noticing, he began smiling to himself at the memory. Until a loud thud made him stiffen. Ari had thrown the rattle on the ground. Now stuffing her fingers into her mouth. He got up and picked her up, knowing instantly what that meant. "Let's eat." He carried her to her highchair and put the bib around her little neck. Grabbing a glass of baby food from the cabinet then. Ari seemingly getting impatient with his slow movements as she started kicking her feet. An angry look plastered over her chubby features and her hands reached out for the glass in his hand. She was ready to start whining when a spoonful of the paste was shoved into her mouth. Her face instantly softening. And Taehyung exhaled relieved.

Perhaps he was getting better after all, he thought proudly. Not noticing her small hand grabbing the glass and pulling it with force, unexpectedly. And like in slowmotion he watched it slip from his grip. The orangy paste spreading all over the chair's tabletop. His eyes grew wide in shock while Ari was simply laughing amused at the mess she had created in front of her. Smearing her food even more with her hands.

Dragging a breath, he let himself drop on a chair behind him. Exhaustion overtaking him as he put the spoon down to run his fingers through his hair. Ruffling it a little.

Perhaps he had boasted too soon after all.

»»»

It was one of those days you didn't really know what to wear. When the sun managed shining through the cloudy blanket, it was comfortably warm. However, as soon as it got covered by one of the fluffy clouds, even for just a moment, a chillness picked up. Taehyung didn't notice much of a difference though. Wearing a light knit-sweater as he walked down the corridor of the daycare with Ari in his arms. A fresh breeze hitting his cheeks when he pushed the glass door open with his arm. His hand immediately going up protectively to shield Ari's face from it. "Let's quickly get you inside," he mumbled to her when spotting a familiar mop of curls heading to the building's entrance. And he stopped in his tracks, watching the young woman walking towards him with a wide smile when their gazes met. Waving at him.

"Hey," Cassandra greeted them politely. Her eyes widening when seeing the blue-beaded bracelet of hers around Ari's wrist. Spun around it twice as her wrist was so small. "I see you still have it, Ari," she giggled and took the girl's hand in hers. Gently shaking it, as if she was formally greeting her. Taehyung smiled, glancing at Ari for a moment. "Of course! Why wouldn't she?" he huffed jokingly, making Cassandra look up at him. "No, no. I'm glad she still has it," she ensured him. Hiding her blushed cheeks with a soft smile. The fact he had kept her little gift from months ago touched her in a way. "Are you two heading home now?" He nodded. "And you came to pick up Izzy?" "Yep." She pursed her lips. For a moment an awkward silence built up as they were unsure of what to say. "A-are you going to the park again?" "Not sure," she shrugged. Noticing the expression in his face slightly dropping for a second, before flashing her a pretty smile again. "Oh, what a pity.." "I mean, I'd actually prefer going to the lake." He quietly hummed. Lips forming an unreadable straight line. As if he was struggling to say something. Making Cassandra bite back a smile. He looked cute when being shy. "I see," he said again and licked over his dry lips. "I don't wanna keep you any lo-" "Do you guys maybe wanna come with us?" His eyes seemingly lit up, even though he tried to carry it off well. Eventually responding to her anticipating face with his signature charming smile. "Yeah, yes, sure. Why not." "Great," she said, not even trying to hide her own excitement about spending some time with him again. Truth was, she wasn't much in contact to other parents. Let alone single parents like her. So it was nice having another fellow single parent to exchange some stories and struggles with. Besides, he was cute and friendly - and handsome, too. And meeting someone like that who didn't mind her having a child - because he himself had one- was even rarer. "Just let me get Izzy real quick."

Taehyung observed her hurrying inside before glancing at Ari who was biting on the blue-beaded bracelet. Lowering her hand, he got one of her teething rings out of the small ladybug backpack around his shoulders. Sliding it into her hands, she started biting on the plastic star instead. His eyes wandered around then, seeing his car which wasn't too far away and decided to get in while waiting for Cassandra and Isavella. It would make sense to get to the lake with it anyway. After putting Ari in her baby seat, he slid into the driver's seat. Seeing Cassandra having returned at the entrance.

Her head going left and right, seemingly puzzled about not meeting him at his previous spot where she had left him. He chuckled under his breath and got his sunglasses out of the glovebox before starting the engine. Stopping right in front of her then, he lowered the passenger's window. "Looking for someone?" he cocked his head, glancing over the glasses to her. Immitating one of those cliché sly guys in films with his arched brow. "No, not really. A guy just ditched me," she faked disappointment, playing along with his random skit. "Sounds like an idiot to me." Her curls swaying in the breeze as she tucked one behind her ears. "Seems so. Although he didn't seem like one." He licked over his lips, shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, if he ditched you he must be one. Don't you think?" Cassandra pretended contemplating his words. Nodding vigorously then. "I must agree. He is a total idiot. How dare he ditch me like that!" They both exchanged a look before breaking into a fit of giggles. She opened the back door then. Placing her daughter's babyshell and securing it with the seatbelt before sliding onto the passenger's seat in the front. "You really thought I ditched you, didn't you?" he asked amused, thinking about her confused expression a few minutes ago. Causing her to nervously laugh out as he drove off. "A little? You had disappeared after all." "I said I'd come though," he pouted and pushed his sunglasses back up on the bridge of his nose. Trying remembering the way to the lake. "I wouldn't lie."

She shrugged, shifting in her seat as she fumbled with her fingers. "Thought you changed your mind.. You might've had something better to do after all.." Taehyung glanced at her for a brief momet when stopping at a red light. "I wouldn't ditch you, Cassandra. Don't worry." "I couldn't be sure," she admitted sheepishly, "We don't know each other that well yet." He arched a brow at her. "Well, now you know though," he chuckled. "I'm not that kind of guy." The sound of his words causing her to smile to herself. "Yeah, guess now I know."

»»»

next chapter: 0.7 here

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back.

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin.

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin.

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love.

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it.

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?”

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth.

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze.

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?”

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen.

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really.

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard.

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.”

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered.

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole.

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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