#btsboulangerie

[minniepetals]

heartbeat

— summary: running away from your master is never easy so you deem yourself this will be the last time if you are fatefully brought back to his hold again. so what happens when you stumble upon seven men who says they won’t bring you back? what happens when they promise you their love and care instead?

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, hybrid!reader, rich!bts

— word count: 9.7k

— warnings: mentions of abuse, running away from an abusive household, hybrid cruelty, hurt and comfort

— rec music: bts - heartbeat

Soaked and damped, your hair wet with a sweet smell of cherry blossom fragrance as the pretty tiny bubbles surround you. In the room the lights are bright and you feel a little shy as you sit inside the pretty porcelain bathtub while his fingers run through your hair in a gentle manner.

You have never felt this kind of touch before. It's so sweet and gentle and just...kind.

Oh so kind. 

You purr when he scratch along your kitten ears and Jimin chuckles lightly as he goes on, cleaning the area around it.

"It's a little torn," he frowns at the sight, fingers careful not to brush around it so that he doesn't inflict more pain. He's sure you've been through enough. He knows you've been through enough. "Does your neck hurt when you move around?" He asks gently, noting at the gash that circles it. You have cuts and bruises almost everywhere and something about that makes his stomach drop while his heart yearns for you.

"It does," you say in a small voice so sweet and careful. He doesn't know why anyone would ever want to hurt such a poor little thing.

"Where else does it hurt?"

Your old bandages were thrown in the trash, left discarded for you to never see and be reminded of the sad memories again. They weren't fixed up in the greatest way but what else could you do? You had no experience with those things, he can tell.

"It's okay, everything else are just scratches," you tell him and Jimin pats you gently on the head.

"You don't have to worry about asking too much, dear one, we're all here to help." You turn yourself slightly to meet his gentle eyes with your own that are painful and yearning for love and care. His heart hurts a bit at the sight so he reaches for your hand through the wet bubbles. "If it hurts, tell us. You won't be bothering anyone."

Your lips form into a small pout, eyes a little confused at his kind gesture. "But...my last master always told me I should never ask for help."

Jimin frowns. "No baby, it won't be like that anymore I promise you."

"It...won't?" You tilt your head just a little because it'll hurt the gash around your neck so he goes to hold your head and allow it to return to its original position. "You won't..bring me back?"

"Oh dear, of course not."

"R-really?" You're almost afraid, too afraid that if you let yourself trust in his kindness, it will backfire on you. What if he's lying? What if he becomes tired of you? What if he comes to find you annoying and brings you back? What will be the consequences then?

You're too afraid to think of the punishments that will happen. You're sure it's something way beyond your own imagination. What if this time when you return, you really won't ever see the light ever again? What if he starves you for weeks? Months? What if he hurts you even more? Or worse, what if he leaves you to...to die?

"This..." you hesitate and he sees the tears already swimming in your eyes. Your fingers hold onto the edge of the bathtub, gripping against it tightly, while your eyes cast away from him and towards the tiles of the bathroom floor. "This isn't the first time."

"No?" You shake your head and had forgotten about the pain on your neck so it hurts you and Jimin lets out a little gasp. "Careful sweetie, you're still in pain."

"I..I-I'm scared." Maybe you shouldn't have told a human this but what difference would it make? He knows anyway just by your tears alone. "I'm so scared."

"We won't bring you back, love," Jimin promises you as he lightly runs his forefinger along your jawline until it reaches your chin. "We won't bring you to the shelter or anywhere you wouldn't want." He carefully allows himself to tilt your head up. Carefully. Because he doesn't want to put you through any more pain. Your skin is soft and wet from the bath, the bubbles covering your shoulders and down so that he cannot see anything else below it but your collarbone peeks out just slightly. It's soft and pink.

Just like those pretty lips of yours. It's glossy. Pink and glossy and looks oh so sweet.

"We'll even keep you safe in here if you want to stay."

You blink for a second. "You'll let me stay?"

"Of course," he hums.

"Even if it means..." your cheeks blush as you bite your lower lip, small figure shrinking for a moment. "Even if it means..forever?"

Jimin smiles and you think it's just a kind gesture he's showing you to show appreciation for the fact that you wish to stay but that his answer would be no. They're always no's. A soft smile before whispering the reluctant reply and you're left to fear for where you will go.

A shelter, a pound.

Either way, you find yourself back in your owner's home and he rewards you with severe punishments. It is never fun but perhaps this is your destiny. If Jimin says no then you will give up. This will be your last run. You won't run away anymore even if it means you will never receive hope and kindness because it lasts for just a little while.

These kind gestures are sweet but the more you have it, the more you understand that it can never last forever. They never do. Because the next thing you know, you're waking up and returning to that dreaded mansion.

"Yes baby."

You stop breathing. You stop breathing.

"Even if it means forever."

You don't know why but those words itself hurts you even more than when the humans that have told you no.

"I'm not..I-I'm not always a good girl," you tell him.

"None of us are," he replies.

"I'm a mess."

He hums. "Me too."

"I'll always be seeking for attention. Loud noises frighten me. I-I get scared very easily. I can be a brat. There are so many things I wish to do and wish to wear. I-I'm not a good person. I'm very selfish."

"Oh baby," he pouts, "are you trying to convince me otherwise? Because it isn't working, you know."

Your brows knit slightly. "It isn't?" Why not? It always worked, so why doesn't it work on him?

"Not one bit," he shakes his head.

"Even so," you look away again, "what about your..friends?"

"Them?" Jimin chuckles. "I'm sure they'd love it if you stayed with us. Taehyungie and Jungkookie really loves little kittens. We've always wanted to get ourselves a hybrid but never got around to it so this must be fate."

"..fate," you whisper.

You think you like this word.

"Mhm. So don't worry about it, okay?"

"But..." you squeeze the bathtub again, hands trembling. "He...he'll come looking for me," you say. "He always does."

He.

Jimin frowns and takes your hands into his. "Baby look at me." You do as he asks and he gives you a determined gaze. "No matter what happens, I promise you we will keep you safe."

"Even if he offers you a ton of money?"

"He's not the only rich resident living on Earth." Ah. You can tell Jimin is rich. After all, this bathroom is anything beyond what you can ever afford. You're sure that even his shirt alone is more expensive than an average human's apartment. "And even if any of us weren't so well off, we still wouldn't fall for such a sick joke. Your life is worth so much more than anything money can offer, baby, value yourself more."

Jimin is so kind you almost forget that this is your first meeting and he doesn't know you so much yet. But he's so willing to keep you safe that it makes you want to cry.

"It's illegal to keep me without owning me," you say.

"Seokjin's a powerful lawyer, baby, he can defend your honor, and Namjoon's a prosecutor who'll go up against your owner if he has to," he tells you otherwise. "We'll fix this, baby, by law or not. He won't ever touch you ever again."

"A-are you sure?" You ask him timidly. "What if you have to face consequences because of me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You're willing to do this..." you press your lips together, thinking, and then meet his eyes again, "for me..?"

Jimin smiles. "For you." He runs his fingers through your hair again. It's dried a little from the air and by now he's sure you'll end up cold. "Now," he pets your head, "can you tell me your name, kitten?"

No one has really ever asked for your name. Your owner always called you by rude names sometimes you'd even forget you had a name. But you told yourself that if there is anything he can take away from you, it is that he will never be allowed to take your own name.

"..Y/N," you say. "My name is Y/N."

He kisses you gently on your forehead. A sweet, soft kiss.

"I'm Jimin."

.

.

Jimin helps to dry you up while Yoongi helps to clean around your cuts and gash and bandage you up.

You sit on the white tiles of the bathroom floor in just a simple piece of Jimin's grey button up shirt. It lays down to your thighs, covering you up well as you face Yoongi with your back in front of Jimin. Your fluffy tail sticks out from the shirt and it's a little too intimate, really, just sitting there in nothing but Jimin's shirt as the two men help clean you up.

But the blowdryer against your soft hair feels so soft it makes your head spin with bubbles and clouds and cherry blossoms you just want to fall asleep right then and there.

Jimin's fingers against your hair feels nice while Yoongi wraps a long bandage from your left wrist to your fingertips. He's already fixed up your neck and tummy, wrapping it with white bandage wraps. He just needs to do your right arm and your legs.

"Did you...fall of a tree?" the older man asks with a small frown.

"I.." you hesitate. "Mhm," you hum to confirm his fears.

Yoongi lays your left hand on your lap gently before moving on to your right side. "That must've hurt."

"It...it did," you admit. "It was scary. I-I fell asleep on the tree because I was scared someone would see me if I slept on the ground and woke up when I began to slip but it was too late to hold on then."

"You can't use your hands for a few days, okay?" Yoongi tells you. "And your legs aren't in the greatest condition either. We'll be taking care of you from now on so you don't have to worry about not being able to do things for yourself for a while." His voice is calm and steady. It's gentle yet demanding. A soft demand, something your master had never used. He's always been harsh and rude but the way Yoongi commands you makes you want to do it all. You don't dread his commands, you welcome it.

"You'll...be taking care of me..?" You ask him timidly.

Jimin presses a small kiss to your head at your question. "Of course, baby." Even though you've told him your name, he still opts to call you baby. You don't mind it, in fact, you like it. It's a pretty nickname and it makes you happy.

But you're still frightened to be happy because you know that happiness doesn't last for long when it comes to you, it never does no matter how much you wish for it.

As if sensing your fear, Yoongi looks you in the eyes and keeps it there as he place a small kiss against your knuckles.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N," he tells you. "Everything will be okay."

You aren't entirely sure yet. "How are you so sure?"

"Because we're here and you're here," he simply says. "Doesn't that already make things a little better?"

Not a little better, a lot better.

.

.

When you walk out of the bathroom, the maknae almost melts in sight.

You were pretty when they found you, broken pretty but pretty, and now here you are standing in their home with your body leaned slightly against Jimin for support. His shirt lays prettily against your frame, falling down to your thighs, with a fluffy tail swaying gently from side to side, and ears twitching a little at the sound of their feet padding your way. Jungkook wants to hold you and cuddle you but he knows that will be for another time when you're more comfortable.

There are bandages that hides your skin. One wrapped around your right ear, another around your neck. Two on both your wrists, hands, and fingers. Down your legs. He's sure you also have them hidden beneath Jimin's shirt and that itself makes him tear just slightly.

"How do you feel?" The maknae asks as he walks over carefully. When you don't flinch away and you allow him to run his hand gently against your head, Jungkook grins. "Are you hungry?" At the question, your stomach growls and he gifts you a sad smile. "We made food plenty for you to eat."

"I...um.." You bite your lip, eyes wavering with hesitation.

He reads your mind. "It's okay, you don't have to be afraid," he says and holds a hand out as a offer for you to take.

It's different from your last master. He doesn't hold his hand out, he just grabs you by the collar or hair and drags you about. You never have a choice on whether to go with him or not, he's always dragging you around.

So seeing this is different and it makes your heart confused because you really do want this, whatever it is, to last forever, but you're afraid of it being gone.

While a teardrop falls against your precious cheek, you allow yourself to live in this fantasy and place your hand over his palm.

Jungkook smiles at you. A sweet, sweet smile, and leads you into the kitchen.

"In this house, there are no rules," Seokjin tells you when he puts a bowl of porridge in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and smell. "Eat as much as you want, no one will punish you for anything."

You look down at your hands wrapped in bandages and is about to pick up a spoon when someone else takes it instead.

"It's okay to ask for help," Hoseok says with a sweet grin as he scoops up a spoonful of porridge and gently blows on it. "Tomorrow, there'll be more food."

As he hovers the spoon in front of you, you think that this is too good to be true.

.

.

"Want to go shopping?"

You blink your eyes at Namjoon's question. It's hard tilting with the gash around your neck so you settle with this instead. "For..what?"

He smiles and dimples appear before his cheeks and your heart almost swoons. It's charming. "For your clothes, of course."

You gasp. "N-no, you shouldn't..- you don't have to."

"But of course we should, Y/N."

You shake your head before wincing at the pain that shoots against your neck and it's their turn to gasp.

"Careful, Y/N, please be careful."

"I'm sorry, I'm okay," you promise Yoongi before turning to Namjoon again. "Y-you don't have to buy me anything," you tell him. "You shouldn't waste your money on someone like me. It's not worth it."

"Oh darling, is this what he's gotten you to think? That you aren't worth anything?" When you don't answer Seokjin's question and your eyes cast to the floor, they know that it must be true.

So Namjoon kneels before you and takes your hands in a gentle manner. He meets your eyes from the floor and sends you a sad smile. "All the things that he's told you are wrong, my love. You are precious as a gemstone, as the most beautiful flower in the universe, as the greatest person to have ever been born. You are worth more than anything in this world."

The sun shines bright from the morning day. It falls past the open curtains, through the glass windows, and touches you in a way you hadn't felt for a long, long time.

It's warm.

Just like Namjoon's hold.

No.

Namjoon's hold is so much more precious. As if you are special, as if you are someone delicate and he doesn't dare to ever break.

"So let us do this for you, hm?" Taehyung says and you look up as he places a few pats on your head.

You feel nice. You feel like you're a good girl and you're being rewarded even though you've done nothing to deserve all this. "O..okay..." You say and they smile. "But I...I-I don't want to go out." You swallow a lump in your throat. Still afraid, still timid. "I don't want to..I don't want to risk anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart." Taehyung smiles. "We'll go in your stead, me and Namjoon, and we'll get you all the pretty clothes that you deserve."

Namjoon nods as he stands again and when they're about to walk away, you hold the hem of his shirt just slightly but it's enough to make him understand that you still have something to say. "Please don't get too much."

Namjoon chuckles and ruffles your hair. "Don't count on it, baby."

.

.

You sneak out of your bedroom wearing a white cotton sweater that Namjoon and Taehyung got you a few days ago. It lays just against your upper thigh feeling oh so soft against your skin.

Tonight you can't sleep again but this is the first time you don't feel like staying in bed and doing nothing to rid of the nightmares. So you walk out, tiptoeing lightly though you don't know why because you're sure no one else is awake. But then again, you don't want to wake anyone up because you're being too loud.

They've already provided enough for you, you can't be ungrateful.

Still, you aren't sure why you're leaving your bedroom. Maybe for a drink of water, to clear your mind. Maybe hoping someone is awake? If they are, what will you do?

You don't know but your ears catch on something.

The light rapid tapping clicks of a keyboard just downstairs where the large living room is. You walk down with slow steps, legs better than it was when you had first met them. The bandages around them, your tummy, your ears, and your hands are all gone. Yoongi has checked on them everyday and was strict on when he'd take them off.

All that's left is the gash around your neck that still needs a little more time to heal.

It feels like a collar at this point but you don't find any ill will towards it. Yoongi wraps it around you after all.

The living room shows a bright light coming from the screen of a laptop and you find Hoseok sitting on the sofa, his brows creased with focus as his eyes run over the tiny letters written on the screen. For a moment he just sits there reading, a hand rubbing his chin, barely blinking just to keep himself from missing anything.

It's a similar scene to your last master but also so different.

Because Hoseok is kind and although his gaze is serious and firm as he's in his work mood, you know that he is gentle and that he will never hurt you in any way. The past few weeks with them have proved it.

You're mesmerized by the way he sits alone that you almost forget it's wrong to yearn for someone like him.

But seeing that he's awake, you definitely don't want to head back to your room now. You don't know what you'll do but you can't head back to that lonely place and you can't disturb Hoseok.

Yet when you take a step forward, something creeks underneath and you hold your breath as Hoseok looks up and over his shoulder to see who it was.

You think he'll grow angry that you've disturbed him but he doesn't. He isn't the same as your previous master. That isn't Hoseok or any of them because instead of shouting at you to return to your room, his face contours into a soft expression and the crease between his brows disappears for a moment.

"What is it, kitten?" His voice is strained from working over hours but it welcomes you in. "Can't sleep?" He asks.

You want to nod your head but your neck hinders it so you're forced to speak up. "Mm-hmm."

He extend a hand out at your soft hum, offering you to come along. You allow yourself to go at his request, feet padding softly against the floor.

He lets you sit next to him on the sofa, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in close yet deeming you not close enough so he settles you on his lap instead. You blush a deep rose color and hope that the darkness hides your face but the screen in front of the two of you only illuminates it. He chuckles gently, carefully placing you between his legs as he holds you close and breathes in your sweet scent. Hoseok leans in as if he can't get enough of you, places a kiss on your head, on your cheek, and against the bandages of your neck.

"Keep me company, hm?"

You've never felt so loved before. Not before leaving your master's mansion and accidentally meeting them.

But Jimin said it was fate. Jimin said this isn't accidental.

A serendipity.

You like that word. You like serendipity.

So you allow yourself to lay your head against Hoseok's chest, curling up against him. It's a little difficult with your neck but you do well eventually getting into a comfortable position. He smells nice, they always smell nice, and when he places a hand against your thigh, your tail curls around it subconsciously.

You can sleep now.

It soft and warm and you know you can trust him.

.

.

Some nights are better than others.

Some nights you'll wake up or you can't fall asleep at all and you'll stay cooped up in your bedroom, hugging the blanket, hugging the pillow, hiding yourself from the world, and cry silently to yourself. Those nights they can usually tell what has happened the morning after because you'll have bags under your eyes.

"Baby don't be afraid to wake us up if you have to," Jungkook tells you.

"Would you like to sleep with us?" Taehyung offers. "Will that make you feel better? Because it always makes me feel better sleeping with others. I can hug them and they'll hold me so that I won't be afraid of the dark."

They are too kind and you're too afraid of using that kindness to your advantage, still afraid of being happy and then growing disappointed all over again. So you sway your body a little from side to side because you can't hurt your neck and although they look like they want to say something further, they nod and let you make your own decision.

You will come around when you feel a little more comfortable.

Some nights are a little more unbearable and usually you can take it, usually the nightmares aren't that bad. But this time when you tried to sleep, any time you'd close your eyes, the images of your old master will appear to torment you over and over again.

The night is scary, you dread the night. Because unlike night, the morning offers you light. The morning offers you Seokjin's sweet pancakes. It gives you their warmth, their arms that wraps around you, their sweet good morning kisses.

So you try to stay awake through the night, hoping for it to just pass by like any other nights.

But tonight is harder than other nights and you're scared and you don't know if you can wait that long until the morning sun appears.

So you take the covers off your body and walk out, legs trembling as they lead you to the first door that is the closest to you. You knock on it softly. Three soft knocks.

It's dark and it's quiet and you think that perhaps the person behind the door can't hear the knocks because it's too soft but Seokjin is a light sleeper so of course he hears it.

Your ears pick up on his footsteps coming your way and you hold your breath, afraid, as he walks over and opens the door.

"I-I'm so sorry," you quickly apologize before he can say anything. "I just..I couldn't sleep and I know it's rude to wake you up in the middle of the night but I was so scared and the nightmares got a little too overwhelming but if you don't wish to see me then I'll gladly leave—"

"Nonsense," someone else speaks up. Their voice is deep and groggy and when you look up, you find Namjoon stepping up from behind Seokjin.

They've mentioned that they usually sleep together, often times switching it up between members because everyone would like a chance to sleep with one another. Split up in groups of two, two, and three. There's even a grand room with a bed bigger than you can ever imagine, that holds about seven or more people. They've told you that if you ever wanted to join along, you didn't have to be shy but you've always opted with sleeping by yourself.

Tonight you have Seokjin and Namjoon.

"Come here, pretty one," Seokjin says as he puts a hand behind your back and ushers you in. Namjoon closes the door behind you and you're led to their bed and laid right in between the two of them.

They hold you gently, careful not to be too strong and accidentally squish you but right now you'd really like to be squished, to know that they're here and they won't ever let go. But it's a little difficult with your sore neck, where the two of them place soft kisses against, and you think maybe you can ask for the tight holds when your neck heals.

Maybe.

For now, you let Seokjin sing you a soft lullaby to sleep even if it means repeating it a few times. He doesn't stop until he's absolutely sure you're asleep between their hold, where your soft purrs ring through the air and Namjoon goes on the brush away a small tear that escapes the corner of your eyes.

"She doesn't deserve any of this," Seokjin whispers into the night as he strokes your cheek.

"One day she'll be strong enough to tell us who he is," Namjoon is sure, "and when that day comes, we'll get him and finally make her ours."

"Legally or...?"

When the younger man smiles, Seokjin can see it through the moonlight glowing past their windows. He doesn't have to say a thing for Seokjin to understand what he means.

Yeah, that'd be something all of them would like.

For you to finally be theirs.

.

.

"W-wait..-" You stop Yoongi before he can collect the first aid kit and he looks up a little confused but urges you to go on. "Why...aren't you bandaging my neck up again?" You ask him, eyes filled with conflicting thoughts.

Yet Yoongi only smiles. "You have no need for it anymore," he states simply. "It's all healed now with just the scar left."

"N-no, I.." Your voice trembles and his brows knit together as he wonders what's going on. Surely you'd like the bandages gone, right? Doesn't it feel uncomfortable? It's been a month since you've had it on. You take the first aid kit and place it back on the table and take his hand into yours. "Please wrap it again," you ask of him. "It..scares me. I don't want to look at the scars imprinted on it because it'll remind me of what he did."

"Oh, baby." If Yoongi can, he'd leave the house right now to beat up the man that had ever dared to call himself a man, treating you in ways too cruel for a human, hurting you, leaving you to starve and thirst. It's all his damn fault, he's made you this way. So afraid of the world, too afraid to trust that easily. Yoongi can only wish for you to smile. He wishes to see it but he doesn't think he's ever seen such a precious thing plastered on your face.

So he sighs as he take the roll of bandage to wrap it over your neck like the routine the both of you has gotten used to. He'll tell the boys about this later but for now, Yoongi places a soft kiss against your neck when he finishes.

"You are loved, Y/N, please never forget that."

.

.

"How do you feel? Excited?"

"Mmm.." you trail of at Jimin's question, feet hesitant as you stare at the garage filled of vehicles. "Scared," you whisper and he takes your hand to squeeze it gently.

"It's gonna be alright," the oldest of the group assures with a soft smile.

"It's been a while."

"It has, hasn't it?" Taehyung nods as he thinks about it. You were just a small little kitten that had fallen upon their paths and they decided to take you in without hesitation. "But you're going to do great, I know you will."

Jungkook takes the driver seat of the black minivan while Jimin sits in the passenger seat and Taehyung stays in the back with you.

You haven't been out since they've taken you in and quite honestly, you're a nervous wreck. But you also know that if you want to heal, you'll have to take measures into your own hands. They've taken care of you so well so you have to step up the courage for yourself. You'll be alright, you know you will, with Taehyung next to you to hold your hand steady and the other two who checks on you through the rear mirror every once in a while.

It's just a simple task of grocery shopping. You wear a light pink long sleeved plaid mini a-line shirtdress that falls to your thighs. Taehyung likes seeing you in dresses so most of your clothes are just him spoiling you with pretty dresses.

You don't mind it. Well at first you did but he was always so insistent and told you he wanted to spoil you so you couldn't go up against him, not when he's always so willing to give you everything.

It's different from your last master.

Everything is different.

Even the steps you take as you walk around the supermarket and Taehyung and Jimin holds your hand while Jungkook pushes the cart. Your master never allowed you out to do anything and even if he did, his eyes were always on you to make sure you didn't run away. You can never scream aloud for help, he's threatened you so many times to not do that. And because of his status and money, you were always way too afraid to go against him in person.

But here, walking along the maknae line of your caretakers, Jungkook smiles as he sees the swaying of your tail which indicates that you're alright and he has nothing to worry about.

"Hello, do you know where they sell coffee beans?" The boys have their backs turned away as you stare wondrously at the various meat to your side when someone approaches you. It's a hybrid, a she-wolf, and it shouldn't scare you but it does and suddenly your heart is quickening and you can't get any words out.

Jungkook must have noticed because when he turns around and sees you, he's quick to act. "It should be down there, aisle eight," he points and the wolf smiles as she thanks him.

When she leaves, the three of them turns to you. "You okay?" Taehyung asks with concern as he places a hand on your shoulder.

They make it all better so you let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be, my dear. We're so proud of you." He rewards you with a little kiss against your neck and at this point, the neck kisses has come to symbolize their love and care for you. A sign telling you that they're right here, that they won't go anywhere.

"I think we got everything on the list," Jungkook says a few moments later after wondering around the store. He looks over the paper Seokjin had given him again before shoving the thing behind his jean pocket. "Want to buy anything?" He grins your way. "You can get any snacks you'd like."

They look at you as you think for a moment before saying, "Mochi."

Jimin raises a brow, amused. "Mochi?"

"Does it taste good?" You ask and he chuckles.

"Delicious."

"I want some," you say cutely and they proceed on to the frozen section not long after.

"What flavor would you like?" They all look good but as you look around at the variety, Jimin sees that you're more drawn to the pink ones. "Strawberry it is."

When you walk back out to the parking lot, something drips against your skin.

Then another, and another.

Before the four of you realize it's raining and Jimin has his bag of groceries all in one hand while the other rushes to hold his jacket over your head as you all run towards the minivan.

He's quick to open the door and rush you inside while they head towards the trunk to place the groceries in before safely returning to the safety of the van.

You run your hand against Taehyung's hair to flick away the tiny drops of water that drips from the tip of his hair and he goes on to pat along your dress. "You alright?" The man asks and you nod. "Your bandage got a bit damped," he says, pressing his lips together.

"It's okay," you say and Taehyung smiles as he tucks your hair behind your ears.

"Let's get you home."

When you return, the first thing Hoseok does is pull the four of you aside to dry yourselves with towels and change out of your wet clothes while the hyungs take care of putting away the groceries.

"Did you have fun?" The man asks as you sit on a chair while he wraps a new bandage around your neck. You nod at his question and he smiles.

"Next time we'll go to some place more fun," Jungkook promises with a gentle ruffle of your hair.

"Will it be crowded?" You worry.

"It doesn't have to be," he tells you. "Until you're comfortable, we'll only do the things that doesn't involve too many people, alright?"

When Hoseok is finished with your neck, the five of you return to the kitchen where Jimin helps you open your snack.

"It's cold," you shiver at the feel of the soft yet freezing sensation.

The man chuckles as he picks up a piece for you and offers it to your mouth. You take a bite which make things a little more cold but you're too caught up by how sweet and delicious it is to care. "Wow!"

"Delicious, isn't it?"

"Mhm!" You nod enthusiastically and Jimin smiles fondly as he goes to wipe away the white powder that has made itself around your lips with his clean hand.

"I'm so proud of you, baby."

You frown cutely in confusion at your second bite. "But I haven't done anything."

"But you have, my sweet kitten," he tells you otherwise. "You've gotten more comfortable asking us for things and have decided to go out all on your own. We're all so proud of you."

The soft kiss he rewards you with on your forehead makes your heart flutter.

.

.

"I have a present for you."

It's a late night. The stars and moon are present in the sky, the curtains closed to keep any creepy things of the night from scaring you, and the lights are on as the eight of you sit around in the comfort of the living room.

You look at Yoongi with confusion as he pulls out a white box with a pretty pink bow wrapped on top. "We all decided to pitch in," he says. "There's two of each from each of us in here all for you."

"For me?" He nods as you look at the box, curiosity peeking in as you wonder how there's two of each gift from the seven men that sits and awaits for you to open the present. You take the box, sniffing instinctively yet smelling nothing that can ruin the surprise.

They watch you steadily, holding their breaths as you untie the pink bow and let it fall away. When you open the box, something unexpected greets you. There are rolls of soft silk that lays in the box, all in different colors, fourteen altogether. It sits prettily inside in rows, soft in colors, not too bright, not too dull.

You take one in hand, an ivory color, and the silk unrolls upon your fingers. Your eyes widen at what it has to offer, untangling into a long piece of silk that looks so similar to something you have gotten used to wearing.

"Th..this..." You look up at Yoongi who holds a steady gaze. It's calm and soft, just the way that makes your heart ache and flutter at the same time. There are tears swimming at the brim of your waterline before he even explains it.

"They're for your neck," he says gently. "We figured it'd feel much better to wear something that doesn't seem like you still have to heal, because you're already doing so well, something that doesn't look like a burden, something that will make you feel better about yourself instead of looking in the mirror and staring at the bandage wrapped around your neck. We wanted to make you feel pretty because you deserve so much more than what this world has to offer, Y/N. You deserve all good things that doesn't always have to remind you of your previous life because you are beyond whatever he had always told you. You are loved and cherished and there is nothing in this world would we like more than for you to know that you will never be alone. We'll always be here for you, Y/N, so you don't have to be afraid anymore."

It's a scary world.

A world that frightens you more than the sleepless nights you'd still sometimes get.

You aren't used to kindness, you aren't used to others seeing you as an equal. Heck, you were even afraid when that hybrid approached you for directions.

But to be here with the ones that have found you laying helplessly on the dirty ground, the ones that have taken you into their sweet home, cleaned you up, fixed up your wounds, fed you, allowed you to have your own room and bed, the ones that have never stopped showing you that they care. They'll always press a kiss somewhere on your body, remind you that you deserve all nice things, shower you with love and affection, and have never gotten angry at you even when you make a slight mistake.

It's as if the universe has finally allowed you to live well, as if this is destiny and that you're meant to be here with them, loved and cared for.

Sometimes you do wish there was something a little more but you know that you cannot be that selfish. You have them as this and for now, that is all you'll ever care to want.

So you push the box aside and you wrap your arms around Yoongi's neck and he allows you to climb into his lap, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and allow yourself to tear up. "Thank you," you whisper.

"Oh, pretty kitten, you deserve the world."

You shake your head lightly. "I don't care about having the world, I just want you."

He meets the eyes of the others with a soft gaze. "You have us, baby."

.

.

"Do you ever want to be ours legally?"

You look between Seokjin and Namjoon who sits across from you from the coffee table and stop eating the half eaten apple slice in your hand.

It's a question you love and hate at the same time. Yes you want to be theirs legally, but that would also mean another thing. You aren't dumb, you know Seokjin and Namjoon can take care of these things because they work for the law, fighting for more rights for hybrids but you know that it won't be easy.

It will never be easy for your case.

"Won't that mean..." you trail off, eyes falling to your lap as you plop the last piece of apple in your mouth and return your hands to your lap. You chew onto the fruit slowly, swallowing thickly before looking back up at them, a little more conflicted. "It will mean having to deal with him," you say in a small voice. "It means..I have to see him...won't I?"

"No, baby," Seokjin shakes his head gently. "I will not allow him to see you if you definitely do not wish for that. He won't be able to hurt you ever again."

You curl up into a little ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head hidden halfway against it. "But he's scary," you say, voice timid with a soft whimper. "He'll think of ways to get me back once he knows I'm still alive and..and..-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Namjoon rushes to your side in a calm voice with arms circling around you. "It's okay, baby, we've got you. I promise you everything's going to be okay."

Seokjin comes to your other side. "Any hybrid mistreated by their owners are protected under the law. He will not be able to get past us, I promise you."

"How're you so sure?" You sniff as you lean in closer to their touches. "He's a powerful man."

"There's one of him and seven of us," Namjoon reminds.

"And two of us who knows the laws more than anyone," Seokjin adds.

"Have a little more faith in your freedom, baby, we've got connections too."

"I'm scared," you confess though in all honesty, you don't really have to because they can already tell. Why wouldn't you feel scared? Petrified? This is dealing with your last owner after all.

A man not worthy of being titled a human and Seokjin and Namjoon just wants the nightmares all gone at the snap of their fingers.

But they know that it will be much more than that, something more difficult.

And seeing you in this distressed state, lips whispering sweet comforts into your ears, they meet each other's eyes and there's a silent vow that they give one another.

A vow that they will fix all of this.

You're worth all of it after all and they will never give up on you.

.

.

The nights are long but the days grow longer. Insomniac. Trying to hold onto the last pieces of hope you have left in this life.

Them.

It's scary, not knowing what the outcome will be especially when the boys refuse to tell you how the case is going because all they wish is to protect you. You've told them plenty of times that you can take it, that you're strong and brave enough. But even then, they'll only pat your head and say, "I know, babygirl, but let us take care of everything, alright?"

Maybe they're right, maybe you'll go crawling back to your little hole and deem everything and everyone is scary and mean all over again, but it's even more scary not knowing anything.

Seokjin and Namjoon comes home so late and then locking themselves up in their offices. The rest of the boys hold you through it all, keeping you safe in their arms, whispering sweet comforting words to make you feel a little better.

It helps. You know you'd be in a worse condition if it weren't for them, so you allow their warmths to welcome you in.

It's just scary so you refuse to sleep, knowing the nightmares will tear you down all over again. So you stay in the arms of your sweet boys who cradles you and press kisses to your head, petting you, scratching you lightly on your kitten ears just to evoke soft purring out of you.

"Do you think we'll win?" You ask Jungkook timidly as he runs his hands through your hair with a sweet rose scented shampoo. Your fingers play along with the pink bath bubbles hoping to distract yourself but it doesn't really help. "Do you think I'll ever become yours?"

"Oh, baby," he sighs with a gentle smile curling along his lips, fingers stopping midway to press along your human ears and raise your head up. You're pouting just slightly with big round eyes that he can stare at for days if he could. Jungkook leans in, the tip of his nose touching yours, giving you a sweet eskimo kiss. "You're already ours even without the legality."

"I am?"

"If you want to, that is."

"Of course I do!" You wrap your arms around his neck, only to remember you're still in the bath soaking wet a little too late, and a cute gasp leaves your lips when you wet him. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean-"

"I know baby," he chuckles, "it's alright."

You place your hands back into the water sheepishly with your cheeks rose pink. "I'm just.." you sigh, "I'm just scared, Kookie, and I'm worried about Namjoon and Jin."

"Namjoon will make sure to throw him into prison, sweetie, and Jin will make sure you are legally ours and that he won't get to you. No matter what tricks he has up his sleeves, he won't get away with this, I promise you. They'll take care of him. The laws have been readjusted to protect the hybrids and their rights. We'll win this, I know it, and it may take a while for everything to heal but Y/N," there is a soft gaze resting on his face as he goes to lightly graze along the skin on your neck.

It doesn't hurt anymore but you still like covering it up and the only times it's out there for them to see is in moments like these. A scar to remind you of what has happened but that you're healing day by day, all because of them.

"No matter how long it will take, my sweet kitten, we will never give up on you, you got that? You've got us for the rest of your life."

You smile at his words. "Is that..a threat?"

Jungkook laughs. "No, baby," he shakes his head then leans in to place a soft kiss upon the scar, "it's a promise."

.

.

"Jin!" You jump out of Hoseok's hold and run over to the man that finally emerges from his office. Him and Namjoon are always either at the law firm or stuck in their offices trying to win this case and now here he is, hopefully to take a breather. The man welcomes you in his arms and holds you up, chuckling with you greet him with kisses because you miss him. "You alright?" You ask as he sits the two of you down on the sofa beside Taehyung.

He readjusts your position to something more comfortable and you look up from where he holds you, a thumb reaching up and slotting itself right in between his creased brows.

His tired expression softens and Jin sighs with content, knowing all of this will be worth it in the end. "I'm okay, baby," he assures you.

"But we need your help with something," Namjoon says as he comes in to join the group. His arm crosses against his chest, brows furrowed, a look of discomfort as he closes his eyes for a moment of hesitation as if asking anything from you is too much.

"What is it?"

He lets out a sigh before fluttering his eyes open again and meets your gaze. "Sweetheart...can you tell us what happened?"

Oh.

You knew at some point you'd have to come clean about your past and tell them everything. Of how you were brought into his home, what happened, the details of what happened and not just the gist of everything because they know the gist. You're a hybrid who was unlucky to be bought by some cruel man like many other hybrids out there, therefore starved for days, hurt and beaten.

But that's all they know. And they can only guess what happened.

They don't know how you were hurt, how your neck was in such a condition, what horrible things he's made you do, what hurtful words he's told you, they don't know any of the details.

So are you ready?

Seokjin can feel you trembling so he holds you a little tighter, a little closer, pressing your ears against his chest for you to listen to his heartbeat because he knows it calms you down listening to the beat of their hearts. "Oh baby, it's okay. We're right here. You don't have to say a thing if you don't wish to. You don't have to revisit the past, baby. It's okay." He press kisses on top of your head, rubbing his palm upon your arm and back.

And he's right.

They're right here no matter what happens. Always here to comfort, always here for hugs and kisses or to just be the pillar you need when you want to be held, always here to listen.

They aren't like the master you had before. They listen, they care, speaking in soft gentle tones for you, spoiling you with gifts, allowing you to eat whatever and as much as you want, never scolding you for anything except for when you aren't taking care of yourself, but even then they'd promise they'll be the ones to take of you in your stead, until you learn to care for your own self.

The world is scary. Humans are scary, some more than others, some that just seems scary but aren't, most of them you may never come to trust.

But still, they're here. Right here, holding you, not forcing you to do or say anything against your will.

So you shake your head and lean back just a little, wiping away your tears, holding a hand against your heart and take in a deep shaky breath to steady yourself. "No, it's okay," you say, taking Seokjin's hand and squeezing it gently. You look up at the rest who has on the same worried expressions and can feel your heart fluttering with warmth, wanting to cry again but for a different reason. "It's okay, I trust you all."

The story is long and horrible and has you crawling in fear all over again as you relive your nightmare but they're right here for you. Even as you cry and have a breakdown, them telling you you don't have to go on, but you still go on.

For them, and for yourself.

Not everything is alright but they always make it better.

.

.

Weeks later, your ears pick up on the entrance door creaking open and Namjoon and Seokjin walks in, suit jackets draping over their arms with their briefcases just hanging on the tip of their fingers, hair ruffled and messy, tired eyes, looking oh so exhausted. They see you emerging from the kitchen floor and you greet them with a small smile just ready to comfort them into making sure they rest in between all of this mess.

Yet something feels a little different than the past days, and when you see their faces brightening at the sight of you, arms held open, you think you understand what that means.

The tears form along your waterline before you can even think of the thoughts, feet rushing at such a fast speed before you can tame yourself, running straight into their arms with sobs escaping you. And so they hold you there, laughing, hugging you back just as tightly, with sighs that indicates that it's over. It's truly over.

You're theirs now.

.

.

"You alright, little one?"

It's in the middle of the night, you're in your room head filled with thoughts as you sit on the floor at the foot of your bed, fluffy white rug underneath you, with a pretty familiar box that falls open in front of you. The rain falls hard outside, dropping against your windows, thunder crashing at one point or another, but you aren't afraid as you were before.

You welcome it, tail swaying gently from side to side. Perhaps it just goes to show how angry your last master is but even then he cannot win at this game called your life. You're sheltered in a home that will never let anything bad fall upon you. Sheltered in their arms.

When you look up, Yoongi walks in as the others follow, their eyes casting to the pretty white box you have out on display, scarfs untangled from their rolls, clashing upon one another.

You are more than alright.

"You've taken your scarf off," he takes note of your naked neck as he settles beside you. "You doing alright?"

He rakes his hand into your hair, scratching upon your scalp lightly. "How can I not?" You purr, consciously leaning in closer to him. "I don't think I'm scared of it anymore," you say, placing a hand against your neck. "But the scarfs hides the ugliness so I'm gonna keep wearing it."

"Sweet kitten," Yoongi sighs as he takes you into his lap. "Nothing about you is ugly, you got that?" He says, chiding gently.

"People will say otherwise," you pout.

They don't say anything but Jimin comes forth, putting the box of scarfs to the side, his hand holding your face. Before you can question what he's doing, he peppers kisses all over your face that has you bursting out with giggles because the sweet sensation feels ticklish.

"S-stop," you squeak but he doesn't relent and Yoongi only holds you still in his arms, refusing you to turn away and escape both their grasps.

"Not unless you say you're pretty," the younger man muse.

"Okay, okay! I..-" He lets you hold him still in front of you, faces just about an inch away. "I.." you stutter, "I'm pretty."

Your cheeks are bright pink under the light of your room from the embarrassment of saying such a thing and Jimin chuckles. "Mmh," he hums, voice dangerously low, "you sure are."

The next thing you know, Jimin's lips falls upon yours and your eyes widen, heart drumming loud and hard against your chest almost to the point of you thinking it'll probably take flight.

Your first kiss.

It isn't a peck, a small one that leaves too quickly for your liking, but even as he feels your surprise and hesitation, he doesn't stop there, not when your own eyes eventually flutters shut, and goes in to actually taste your sweet lips against his pillowy ones.

The world feels like it's stop just to allow this to happen, your head spinning in circles still not believing this is actually happening and not understanding why. But you don't pull away because his lips are so addicting, sweet and soft just as you've imagined them to be.

When he leans away a moment later, your face is flushed and Yoongi can feel the heat radiating off you.

"Ah hyung," Jungkook whines from behind the man that has just kissed you, "I wanted to go first."

Oh.

Jimin chuckles when you avoid his eyes and go to hide your face in the crook of Yoongi's neck, curling into a ball against him. "Hmm...I'm guessing babygirl likes it?"

You never knew Jimin could be such a tease.

"Come on," Namjoon sighs, "we're supposed to take things slow, clarify things first, not just go straight for her lips."

Wait-

"Wait, what?" You lean away from Yoongi's hidden shelter, eyes wide and filled with curiosity as you look towards Namjoon for answers. "What does...what did that kiss mean?"

"Shouldn't you, you know," Taehyung chuckles, "ask the one who kissed you?"

"I..-" You don't know how your body can grow hotter by the second but it does and butterflies are flying everywhere in your tummy, heart drumming frustratingly loud.

"You don't know what it means?" Jimin feigns a pout. He holds the side of your face, kisses you on the head and the temple. "You don't know, my sweet innocent kitten?" He tilts your head just a bit to press a kiss against your neck.

You think you do but no one's ever told you such words before.

"Can you..say it?" You ask meekly as you look up at him, eyes gazing through your lashes. "Can you say the words?"

His face softens at your insecurities and the tears that begins to form without your knowledge. "Oh baby," he breaths, "I love you so much."

"We all do," Hoseok says. He takes your hand as Yoongi holds you a little tighter.

"We love you," Seokjin declares.

A tear falls against your precious cheeks and their heart aches at how much you've had to suffer to finally find happiness, to finally find a home. Jimin catches it before it can drip down from your chin and wipes the trail.

Were you lucky to stumble into their paths?

Months ago you'd probably say so sitting in that bubble bath as Jimin washed you. But now you don't think it was ever a happy accident.

Perhaps Jimin was right when he said this is what one would call a serendipity. Hearts written in the constellations before the universe was even created.

And for that, you know you've found your home.

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #hybrid!bts #bts poly au #poly bts #bts poly!au #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts poly relationship #bts hybrid!au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn��t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

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[cinnaminsvga]

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie​ because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

#bangtanarmynet #btsboulangerie #armiesnet #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #college!au #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #bts suga #bangtan #bts fanfic #btsghostie #why am i even pretending like i write angst anymore... who am i #i feel like ive forgotten who i am LMAOOOO

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 10)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~2,590

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: some references to stalkerish behaviour

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6  | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world  @forvever-ddaeng @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @apurpledheart @ggukkieeee​ @witchxlove

You frowned at the smiley boy who awkwardly stood outside your door.  

“Uhh, you gonna let me in... or we gonna stand here all night?” Jungkook asked.

“Let... let you in? But why-” you were still only half-awake.  

Jungkook shoved his way past you in one swift move and you stumbled against the door slightly. Catching your balance again you quickly followed him into the apartment.  

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you trailed him into your own kitchen.  

“Ow, it’s so heavy, I can’t stand carrying it another minute sorry,” he lamented as he dumps the bags of groceries on the tabletop with a thump. “What’s this?” he asked as he peeked inside the bag that contained the chicken soup.

“Soup, I think...” you answered weakly.  

“You ordered it?” he asked.  

“No... I don’t know, some guy just came to deliver it...”

“Mmm okay,” he hummed mindlessly but melodically as he took the package away from the dining table and chucked it to the side of the counter. “Let’s see...” he murmured to himself as he took his handphone from his back pocket.  

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.  

He does not make eye contact with you but stares intently at his phone screen, “I heard you injured your shoulder from last night... I didn’t know and I thought...” he stops suddenly. He side-eyes you for a moment and notices that you were surveying him with that same frown. “Hmm,” he clears his throat rather forcefully, “I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I was overreacting because-”

“Because you thought Yeonjoo was hurt...” you completed his sentence.  

“I didn’t know you hurt yourself while protecting her, to be fair it wasn’t really visible you know...” he voice faded as he sounded a little relieved now that the topic has been broached.  

“It’s our job to get injured so that the people we protect won’t be. You don’t have to be sorry for that,” you replied matter-of-factly.  

“I know I know... but I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion and accuse you or shout at you” he still avoided looking at you as he muttered this.  

Sometimes apologies are like this – it does not necessarily make you feel better more so than it makes the other person feel better.  

“So... why are you here at this time?” you questioned a third time.

“Ah... Yuri is at another schedule with some of the hyungs and since I am free tonight so I thought I should come and make sure you ate dinner... at least...” he was still half-mumbling.

“You are here to make me dinner?” you asked incredulously.  

“Eo...” he answered affirmatively.  

---

Jungkook buying sacks of groceries just to make you dinner was the most unimaginable thing even just a day ago, but it was happening right this moment. You were too tired to quarrel with the idea and he had insisted that you get back to resting until everything was ready.  

You could hear a lot of tinkering, “ahh”, “ooh” and the occasional swearing from the kitchen even in your half-awake state. You had no idea how long this lasted but at some point you were awakened by a knock on your room door.  

“Dinner’s ready... are you awake?” his voice was soft but his tone was the usual.  

You pulled yourself out of bed and headed out to the dining table, marginally more alert than you were before.  

The spread that lay before your eyes was a wonder – a bowl of plain rice, some kind of stew that looked like it had a mix of unrecognisable ingredients in it and some kimchi.  

“Do I start with the soup or...” you wondered cautiously.  

“It doesn’t look that appetising but I promise you that it tastes fine and this is beef bone stew with abalone and what’s that thing...” he wasted no time trying to promote his masterpiece.  

You raised an eyebrow at him.  

“It’s some traditional herb... I’m sure it’s good for health” he continued.

He looked at you expectantly as you took a tiny sip of the stew with caution. It tasted... barely edible.  

“How is it? How is it?” he asked like a child who was asking for affirmation from his parents.  

“It’s nice...” you answered soullessly, “are you not having any yourself?”  

“Nope, it’s all for you” he answered very certainly and you weren’t really sure if this was all part of the bigger picture.

Be that as it may, you recalled how Yoongi felt bad for you at the hospital and did not want another one of them thinking that girls are too weak to do this job.  

“About last night... I just need to say it again, you don’t have to feel bad that I was injured and I can understand why you were worked up so you didn’t have to do this, but thanks anyway” you said while looking him straight in the eyes, maybe the drowsiness helps with boosting confidence.  

He sighed unintentionally. “Like I said earlier, I know I don’t have to feel bad about it but I was wrong to yell at you and I just feel bad because I assume that Yeonjoo was hurt while you were fine and... and... I guess she just looked really shaken and you looked fine so I thought...”  

“It’s ok, I get it. It’s just that we usually try our best not to show it even if we are hurt” you explained.

“If you don’t show it how do people know that you are hurt... what's the point of hiding it?” Jungkook mumbles endlessly as he walked back into the kitchen. He picked up the ladle still in the pot of stew, and you were about to continue the conversation but he took a sip of his own masterpiece.

“Bleh... oh my gosh... what’s this? This taste horrible! You should have told me honestly that it tasted bad... wow...” he shouted with his tongue half-hanging out.

“As you know, it’s not my forte to show how I feel” you replied sarcastically.

“Ugh I just wanted to make you something nice... what the heck is this even... you know what, this isn’t counted. I'll buy you something nice, what do you want to eat?” he lamented.

You were never a fan of bland soups and porridges anyway.

“Hmm... steak, buy me a nice a steak” you requested.

“You can eat that now? Or do you mean when you are better?” his eyes were round with curiousness.  

“It’s my rule that when the body is not feeling well, the mouth needs to eat even better than usual” you explained quite nonchalantly while taking another bite of the weirdly-seasoned stew. It seems like you were starting to get used to the taste of it.

“Ohhh, alright then. There is this place I know that’s really hard to get a spot at, I will use some connections and get you some really awesome steak. How about tomorrow, since it’s a rare that we don’t have any schedules... I mean if you are feeling better tomorrow...”  

You nodded somewhat eagerly as you continued taking another mouthful of the mysterious stew.

“Wow, you still gonna drink that?” his eyes were very round and large, clearly depicting his amazement by your ability to stomach his stew. “I’ll send you the time and address tomorrow.”  

---

The next day and an hour before seven.  

“Where are you going?” Yuri was shocked to see you all dressed up.

“I... uh... I’m going for dinner” you stammered. You were going to meet Jungkook at the restaurant at 7pm and the restaurant unfortunately has a casual formal dress code requirement.

“You are going for dinner? With who? Did you take your medicine?” Yuri nagged like a mother sometimes.

You thought for a long moment whether to reveal the truth but you decided to avoid it in prevention of any questioning that might ensure, “Wow, you are so naggy sometimes you know. I’m just meeting someone I know and yes ma’am I took my medicine, except that one painkiller that makes me really drowsy, I'll take that at night when I'm back alright?”  

Yuri throws a towel at you for calling her naggy and told you to hurry and get out of her sight.  

---

Thirty minutes to seven.  

Jungkook suddenly gets a call from Kijin; something must be up with Yeonjoo for him to be calling Jungkook out of the blue.  

“Hyung, what’s up? It's rare that you are calling me directly” Jungkook answered the call.  

“Jungkook-ah... I really didn’t want to bother you but could you come over... she wouldn’t come out or talk to anyone since last night.”  

---

Ten minutes to seven  

Jungkook stares at his watch, just as he took out his phone to type a message to you Kijin opens the door at Yeonjoo’s apartment and he rushes in.  

The door to Yeonjoo’s bedroom was shut tight. On the way here he was on the phone with Kijin the whole time and he explained hwo Yeonjoo had been receiving letters and calls from her longtime stalker.  

“Is that... from that bastard?” Jungkook looked warily at a paper box placed in one corner of the living room.

“Ya... I’m handing it over to the police later... it’s pretty gross inside I don’t think you should go near it” Kijin warned.  

“Why is he back? I thought he went quiet for a while...” Jungkook asked with a deep unhappiness.  

“Not sure, I think he’s been sending Yeonjoo some messages but she won’t speak to me now” Kijin answered with matching concern.  

Jungkook headed straight for Yeonjoo’s room. He carefully knocks on the door; there was no answer.  

“It’s me... are you inside? Can you open the door?”  

He was met with an eerie silence.

“Hyung... should we just go in?” Jungkook whispered to Kijin, his face fraught with worry.

“I think we have little choice now...” Kijing handed over a key to Jungkook.

The door creaked open slowly. Jungkook peered into the room that was pitch black. A narrow ray of light shone into the room from the opened door and he finally sees the silhouette of Yeonjoo crouched on the floor near the foot of the bedframe.  

He ran over anxiously, “Are you alright? Why didn’t you answer us?”  

Her hands scrunched the blanket that she had pulled over her legs. She was staring soullessly ahead but slowly turned to look at Jungkook.  

“He’s back. I'm scared” she uttered.  

“I know, Kijin hyung is reporting it to the police now” Jungkook whispers back.

“I’m tired, but I don’t dare to close my eyes” she whimpers.

“I’m here... I'll be here” Jungkook sat down next to her and she couldn’t help but lean against him.  

---

Five minutes past seven.

You stood at the sidewalk leading to the elegantly-furnished entrance of the restaurant. Unintentionally you looked around whenever you heard any sound of someone walking by. You had messaged Jungkook to ask if he was reaching but there was no reply.  

You did not even know whose name the reservation was under so you felt better waiting for him to outside. Time went by as you counted the number of times a car turned in but it wasn’t his car.  

The night grew colder as the time went by.  Eventually, you took a look at your watch.  

Ten minutes to 8pm – you decided to give Jungkook a call. The call went unanswered and you were not that surprised but now you became slightly worried.  

You made another call, this time to Sejoon.  

“Eo.. Y/N...” Sejoon picked up the call and sounded out of breath.

“Hi Sejoon, are you ok?” you asked out of concern.

“Yah yah I’m fine, just ran out to grab some thing for Yoongi and Hobi who are having a schedule now... do you need something?” Sejoon asked you back.  

“Uh... actually I am wondering if you know where Jungkook is now...” you started slowly, not sure how much to reveal about your plans with Jungkook.

“Jungkook? He’s not with you? I thought he told me he would be having dinner with you today,” answered Sejoon.

So, it is not much of a secret then. “Ah yes, he’s supposed to meet me for dinner but it’s almost past an hour and he’s not here, I tried calling him but couldn’t get him either,” you explained.

“What? Ok, he does tend to be late... but not this late... are you still waiting there?” Sejoon exuded his usual friendliness.  

“Yah, I’m kinda still waiting,” you replied.

“What? I'll try reaching him after I put down these things for Yoongi and Hobi? Let me know if he suddenly shows up,” Sejoon instructed helpfully before you hung up.  

---

Fifteen minutes past eight

Two police officers sat in Yeonjoo’s living room collecting as much information as they could from Yeonjoo and Kijin while Jungkook watched them from kitchen. It took him a whole ten minutes to coax Yeonjoo into speaking with the police after they arrived.  

Now that he had mostly done his part, he was letting go of the tension he had built up over the past hour and suddenly his stomach let out a low growl.  

He thought to himself that he could have been having some fancy steak now. “Right... would be nice to have some steak now... oh shit!” he suddenly jolted up and looked all over for his phone.  

---

Your phone suddenly pinged – a message came in.

“Hey Y/N, I’m so sorry, there was an emergency, I didn’t check my phone until now... you aren’t still waiting right? I hope you already ordered something... don’t wait for me,” the message read.

The cocktail of feelings left a bittersweet aftertaste. You were still trying to decipher what exactly it was. Was it worry? Was it annoyance? Was it disappointment?  

Then your phone rings. It was Sejoon.

“Hello? Y/N? Have you left yet?” Sejoon shouted through the noisy background noises on his end.

“Hey Sejoon, umm, yeah I got a text from Jungkook so I’m leaving now...” you muttered, trying to mask that bittersweet aftertaste  

“Oh he texted you? Great, did you already grab dinner? Do you need me to come down and settle the bill for you?” Sejoon enquired on 80% volume.  

“Uh no no don’t worry about me, I’m gonna go grab dinner when I get home...” you quickly cut in, “... but do you know what happened to him? He just said there’s an emergency... is he ok?”  

“Jungkook? Oh he’s at Yeonjoo’s place apparently. Kijin hyung messaged me just a while ago to give me the heads up,” Sejoon explained as you hear someone calling out his name on the other end, “I gotta go! You can text me if you need anything!”  

You hardly ever needed anything from anyone. You hardly believed that you deserved to need anything from anyone. And today was no different.  

Did he need to do this for you? No.  

Did you need him to keep his promise? No.  

Yet you stared down at the pavement clearly tasting bitterness this time. Of all the reasons, why did it have to be Yeonjoo?  

One of the staff at the restaurant must have observed you standing outside their door for the longest time.  

“Hi Miss, uhh... it’s rather cold out here... are you waiting for someone? Do you want to come in?” he offered kindly.  

there was a melancholic pause. “I was waiting for someone...” you replied with a wistful smile, “but not anymore, thank you.”  

#series: flfl #btsboulangerie #bts fanfic #bts fan fiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fan fiction #bts fic #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x oc #jungkook x oc #bts romance #jungkook romance #bts drama #jungkook drama #bts au #jungkook au #kpop fanfic #kpop fan fiction #bts #jeon jungkook #bangtan boys

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [22]

Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 22.5 OR Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

There’s quite a few things that you hate.   You like to say you’re a somewhat well-mannered individual who wouldn’t use such a strong word, such as hate, to describe objects, people, and things in general. But there’s a number of things that just absolutely grind your gears. One of such examples are small spoons used to eat ice-cream or crème brûlée where you can never get a satisfying mouthful. And another is—   “Fuck this yeast. Seriously.”   “Hey, what did yeast ever do to you?” Jungkook laughs, finding your rage all the more amusing.   “It won’t foam up.” You tap the measuring cup with a long sigh. Sure, the mixture is bubbling, but it’s nowhere near as good as you want it to be. “It’s been five minutes too.”   “Did you put in sugar to feed it?”   You scoff. “Who do you take me for?”   You hate making bread, hate making laminated dough, hate anything that has to yeast. It’s just horrible to work with and you don’t understand how anyone can like bread in the first place. No one can eat bread on its own. It’s bland as hell. It’s boring.   But aside from your personal vendetta, it just didn’t make sense — you and Jungkook have the same dry active yeast but when he proofs it, it’s perfect. You wonder if these tiny organisms hate you.   “I hate yeast and bread and everything to do with it.”   “Quit whining.” While Jungkook brushes past you, he taps your bottom. “Less complaining, more working.”   “Easy for you to say.”   Jungkook continues the recipe. He whisks together three tablespoons sugar, a tablespoon of salt, and three cups flour. In the meanwhile, you stand there, tapping your glass and wondering if you have to re-do the entire process.   But then another thought comes into mind.    And you slyly switch yours with Jungkook’s.   “Whatever, we’ll see what happens.” You clear your throat, discreetly shifting past him to grab the salt.   “Who knows, it might end up fermenting properly,” he says and a noncommittal sound is made at the back of your throat.    Quickly, you make your dry mixture and pour the yeast in with some oil. It forms into a soft dough, bouncy to the touch, and just the right texture. At the same time, Jungkook returns to grab the yeast and immediately frowns.   “What the fuck is wrong with my yeast.”   He brings it up to eye level, frowning. You shrug. “Yeast is finicky. Was your water too hot when you poured it in? Might’ve killed it.”   “But it was fine befor—” Jungkook’s voice halts. His eyes dim. He redirects his gaze towards you and deadpans, “You switched it, didn’t you?”   “What?” You laugh. “No, I didn’t.”   It’s frightening how he figured it out in an instant. You ponder just how much Jungkook can see right through you. “You took it, didn’t you?!” Your boyfriend playfully throws his arm around your neck and pins you under his armpit in a choke hold. You giggle, grabbing onto his forearm.   “I didn’t!” “You’re still trying to lie to me now, brat? I expected better from you!” He laughs and you squeal.   “Jungkook!”   Finally, he lets go of you, but not before huffing out in frustration. You’re unable to recover when he ruffles your hair roughly, disheveling your entire head and sighing again. “Now I have to re-do mine.”   You pout, watching him grab the container of dry active yeast. “I have to make sure my bread rises.”   He smiles softly. “So now you admit stealing from me?”    You dust off the flour from your hands and approach slowly. When the opportunity is right, you grab Jungkook’s arm and loll your head to one side, fluttering your lashes. “You wouldn’t be upset with your wonderful girlfriend, right, Kookie?”   “Don’t try to act cute with me.”   You lean against him. “I’m not. I just love you.”   Jungkook scoffs, but a tiny smile still lifts on his features. The corner of his mouth is timidly quirked and you know you’ve won.   The dough is kneaded until it’s elastic. Then the bowl is covered with a damp cloth and put in a warm place where it rises for an hour and a half. Afterwards, you punch the dough down on a lightly floured counter, shape it, and bake it in greased loaf pans.   For hating everything yeast, you must admit that the smell of fresh bread filling the kitchen is mouthwatering.   “It rose!” You peek through the oven in its last minutes, observing the way the crust is turning golden brown. “It looks so good.”   Jungkook looks over your shoulder. “Not bad. We’re going to have to do it again though. Or at least you do.”   “What?” The oven closes and you whirl around. “Why?”   “You can’t use my yeast during our exams.” Your boyfriend’s expression is impassive and you open your mouth to retort, but end up closing it. There’s no way you can argue against that.   “Ugh!” Your feet stamp childishly. “But I hate it!”   He smirks and brushes past you. “Should’ve done it right in the first place.”   “Shut up, Jeon.”   The scent of bread baking in the oven only serves to mock you now.   Jungkook tears his teeth into his bread, having lightly buttered it before eating. It’s still steaming hot and looks soft inside. You’re jealous, but also thankful when he stays around and watches you try a second batch all on your own without stealing any of his yeast.   “Too much salt or sugar could slow down the yeast,” Jungkook says. “If the water is too hot, you’ll kill it. If it’s too cold, it won’t activate.”   You sigh. “Why is it so difficult?”   “It isn’t. Just keep trying. The best upcoming pâtisserie chef isn’t going to give up on something as simple as bread, right?” Your boyfriend smiles when he sees you can’t even feign a pout, that your mouth twitches at the compliment.   Motivation flares through you. “That’s right.”   You check water twice, ensuring that it’s the perfect amount of warmness and after you add the godforsaken yeast, you measure out sugar carefully. There’s little agitation before you set up a stool to watch it move.    You pray these microbes will do your efforts justice, that they’ll release their carbon dioxide and ethanol, that they’ll bubble and ferment and make your dough rise later on.   “Are you going to sit there and watch it?”   “Shush,” you hiss at Jungkook as if the yeast could be scared to death.   He smiles, plops a kiss at the top of your head and walks away to clean up his pans and bowls. In the meantime, you wait for five minutes, and then another two just to make sure. By then, it’s bubbling.   “Is this good?” You bring it to Jungkook, not sure anymore.   He peers inside the bowl. “Looks okay to me.”   “Then I did it!” You throw yourself at him for a big hug and the yeast mixture nearly sloshes above the rim of the bowl onto the ground. “We can go now, right?”   Jungkook snorts. “You still need to make the bread, sweetheart.”   You pout. It’s such a pain. But it’s worth it when dough rises, the bread bakes perfectly in the oven, and Jungkook claps for you. When all is said and done, you feel lucky that Jungkook’s here for you, a personal cheerleader of sorts, always rooting you on.   You didn’t know bread could taste so sweet.

“Jungkook.”   “Hmm?”   He’s nodding off, head rested in his palm, elbow on the counter, slumped on the stool. He’s trying hard to keep his eyes open, but he’s been dozing, hair flopping around as he tries to keep himself awake. It’s painful to watch him.   “Go to bed.”   “’t’s okay.” Jungkook straightens his spine and stretches above his head with a yawn. “I’ll wait for you.”   “I’m not going to be done my cakes for a while. Just go back and sleep. Aren’t you tired?”   “Only a little.” He slides off his stool anyway, oddly obedient when he can’t be bothered to put up a fight.   Still, Jungkook comes over and you instantly know what he wants. He leans down, propping his chin on your shoulder, and you hug him as he folds over you. His body is nearly covering your entire frame like a blanket, but it’s warm and comfortable. “I wanted to wait for you,” he mumbles sleepily into your shoulder.   “You’ll see me tomorrow, you big baby.”   He makes a disgruntled noise, eyes shut, squeezing you before letting go.   You smile at him. “Here.” And you help Jungkook undo his white apron. He turns around so you can undo the strings and once it’s free from his body, you haphazardly toss the apron on the counter.   You press your hands against his cheeks so his mouth puckers and you place a brief kiss to his lips. “Okay, now go back and sleep.”   “Okay.” Jungkook relents and retreats away, barely dragging his legs along. A soft smile finds its way on your face, but right when the door of the kitchen closes, your nose scrunches.   There’s a smokey smell in the air.   Immediately, you whirl around to where you’re working and a gasp rips from your lungs.   Jungkook’s apron that you tossed, the one he once told you was precious and lucky to him, is caught on fire. The cloth is curling right on the stove, burnt off, red flames engulfing it.   After a delayed second, you finally lurch forward and grab the edge of it to dump it in the sink. The smoke rises as you turn on the tap and you watch, completely stunned and speechless.   “Shit. Shit!”   //   You’re at a loss of what to do.   You’ve stuffed the dirty thing in your bag, went home and tried to recover it. But the white apron has a huge gaping hole right at the center and there’s nothing to be undone. You tried to read the tag too, to find the brand, to find where it was manufactured, but it’s been worn and faded.   So you consult help. “Jimin, do you know where Jungkook’s apron is from? The one he usually wears.”   “No idea,” the boy says and you’re flooded with complete disappointment. “Didn’t his grandpa give him that thing before he passed away? I think it’s why Jungkook started baking in the first place.”   Blood drains from your face. You feel worse than you did before.   Jimin notices the way your expression crumples, how you’re on the verge of tears and his eyes widen. “Are you okay?! What’s wrong?”   “Don’t tell Jungkook….but...I…..I accidentally burnt his apron.”   There’s a quiet pause. “Oh shit.”   “What do I do, Jimin?” Guilt and remorse eats you whole, chewing and spitting you out to leave you nude and mortified. “I just took it off of him and threw it on the counter. I didn’t know it would land by the stove!”   “You can’t read the tag?” When you shake your head, the boy sighs and his voice softens in sympathy you don’t want. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t be upset with you, Y/N. It was an accident.”   But you can’t come clean with him.   You can’t bear seeing Jungkook’s disappointed face. The inevitable expression that’ll arrive if you tell him you destroyed a precious belonging. If you tell him you ruined his late grandpa’s last gift. If you tell him you wrecked what started him on this journey.   “I can’t say I’ve ever seen something like this before.” Aeri holds it up, studying the pathetic piece of cloth in the light and ignoring the giant hole in the center. She’s the next person you turn to and perhaps your last one.   Yoongi would just laugh in your face and call you an idiot. Taehyung can’t keep a secret for his life. And Hoseok has more than enough on his plate than to deal with your antics. Jimin and Aeri are the ones who are understanding and kind enough to actually help you in your dumb crisis.    “Have you tried searching online?”   “I found one similar on amazon but it’s not the same. The pockets are placed differently. He’ll know.”   “Doesn’t Jungkook have the standard one from school?”   “It’s...not the same.” You exhale in defeat and fall back onto her bed. You cover your face with your hands to shield away the sunlight that comes through the windows. The nice, autumn weather felt like it was mocking you. “What should I do? What if Jungkook breaks up with me over it? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”   The girl laughs. “He wouldn’t. Jungkook’s not that kind of person. I’m sure if you just told him, everything will be okay, Y/N.”   That’s what everyone reassures, and in the back of your mind, you know he can’t be upset with you for that long. But Jungkook trusted you with a personal belonging of his — something so special and you burnt it to a crisp.   You feel guilty. There’s no amount of apologies that can bring the apron back to how it was. You’ve ruined it like how you ruin everything else in your life.   //   “Hey, have you seen my apron?”   Jungkook’s digging into his belongings a few days later, having searched his locker and is now looking into his drawers and into his closet. You swallow hard, knowing that this was imminent.    “N-nope.”   “Weird. I swear I had it here….”   You glance at your backpack. There’s a new apron that you bought, had it shipped to you in a day’s time. You picked the nicest gift bag to put it in too, but you haven’t had the courage to confront him about it.   You wonder what Jungkook would do if he decided to end the relationship over this. Maybe he’ll cite that he’s done with your shit, that you’re irresponsible and too clingy. That you’re too emotional, how he can’t trust you with anything, and perhaps he'll say he needs space.   You’ll survive — you know that much. You’ve been through enough in your life to know you’ll make it out, but surviving is not the same thing as living.    Jungkook’s become such a big part of your life — your boyfriend, partner in crime, best friend — you don’t know if you’ll ever be ready to be without him.    You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone else before.   “What’s the matter?” Jungkook’s suddenly squeezing your face together, the cheesiest grin painted across his own visage. “I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes. Are you thinking about someone else when you’re with your boyfriend?”   You blink at him, eyes becoming glossy. Jungkook’s confusion takes over when you don’t make any snarky comebacks, when he realizes you’re not in the mood to joke around.   He slowly lowers his grip and sits down on the edge of his bead, concern taking hold. “Is everything okay?”   Your breath staggers out from your mouth. “Don’t be mad.”   His brows furrow deep. “What’s wrong?”   You open your mouth, but realize that you can’t say it. So you lean down and grab the gift bag from your backpack. You hand it to him and he takes it in his bewilderment, peeking inside.   You tear your eyes away. You can’t bear to see his face. “I’m sorry. Really. I am, Jungkook. The….the other day when I took off your apron, I threw it on the counter without looking and it caught on fire. I was trying to look for another one, but I don’t know where it’s from and I know it’s special to you, and I’m so sorry.”   There’s silence.    Then the noise of his chuckling.   You lift your head and you’re instantaneously engulfed into Jungkook’s arms, hugged by him. “I love it, thank you.”   You’re stunned — and it takes a moment for you to snap back to reality. “You’re not mad at me?”   “No.” Jungkook scoffs lightly and pulls away with a grin. “I was wondering why you’ve been so quiet the entire day. I was more worried than anything. You didn’t get burnt, did you?”   “No.”   “Good. Then that’s all that matters.”   He’s humming happily, unfolding the new apron and pushing out the folded wrinkles. Then Jungkook stands up while holding it out on his body, checking how it looks in the mirror.   You can’t comprehend how he can be so forgiving. “Wasn’t the other one from your grandpa? You started baking because of him, right?”   “Kind of. He cooked a lot and told me I should find something I love to do and make it my job. It was a bit of a whim.” The boy turns around, doe eyes twinkling. “But that old man gave me a whole box of stuff, not just the apron. And honestly, it was kind of getting old and worn, so I’m glad I have a new one now — plus it’s from my amazing girlfriend, so how can I not love it?”   It takes three seconds.   Three seconds and then you burst out crying. You’re not sure exactly why and it causes Jungkook to be alarmed. He tries to comfort you, but he’s obviously uncomfortable as he pats your back and caresses your hair awkwardly. It’s only when you’ve calmed down a bit where he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and asks if it was something he said.   When you tell him you’re not quite sure, the next question he asks is if you’re on your period — and you almost slap him.   The pair of you don’t talk about your meltdown again, but in the middle of the night while you’re still awake, you’re finally able to pinpoint your emotion.   It wasn’t that you were afraid of Jungkook being angry or breaking up with you — you were afraid of disappointing him, of breaking his heart, of hurting him.    You know anyone else in your life would’ve been let down. But not Jungkook. And for that, you feel relieved, reassured, comforted. You feel fortunate that he loves you, and most of all, you realize just how much you cherish the boy named Jeon Jungkook.

In the middle of your bread and viennoiserie class, while your floured hands are folding laminated dough, Taehyung looks up from the counter with a sudden question.   “What kind of wedding cake do you guys want?”   “The hell did that come from,” Yoongi grunts beside him, his beloved silence now broken.   “Well I was just thinking salami and prosciutto would be so delicious with bread, because I love myself some deli meats and there’s this super cute girl at the deli I go to, but I’m pretty sure she has a boyfriend. Anyway, I started to remember the cakes they had on display at the bakery section and there was a funfetti one with a cartoon rabbit on it that looked a lot like Jungkook.”   “What?”   Taehyung keeps rambling, literally thinking out loud, “Then I realized he and Y/N are probably gonna get married someday, and I wondered if I was going to be a groomsman at the wedding and what kind of cake they were going to have, so yeah. What kind of cake do you guys want?”   Yoongi's expression is disconcerting as if he’s wondering how Taehyung lives peacefully with a brain like his. “Do you ever get tired being yourself?”   “Hey, you asked.” The tall brunette is unbothered by the insult and turns to the two of you for an answer. “What kind of wedding cake are you guys going to have?”   Your mind is reeling.   Getting married to Jungkook seems so far away from now. The pair of you are barely in your twenties, and you’re not particularly inclined to get hitched so young. But in terms of cake — your own specialty — you’ve had one in mind since the beginning of time.   “Well obviously, we’re going to have chocolate.” — “Fresh strawberries and cream.”   You and Jungkook both answer at the same time over top each other.   Your heads turn, eyes meeting, stares connected.   “Of course we’re going to have chocolate.”   “Aren’t you sick of it? I make chocolate for you all the time,” Jungkook argues. “And you eat some every other day.”   “I could never get sick of chocolate.” You frown. “Since when did you like fresh strawberries and cream?”   “Always.” He shrugs. “And when we worked at Kim's cakes, that flavour always tasted the best to me. It’s fresh, but still sweet. I think everyone would like it. It’s versatile.”   “Yeah, but what matters is that we like it.”   “I like it.”   “Yeah, but I think chocolate is just more fitting for us.”   Yoongi sighs, looking over at Taehyung. “Here they go again.”   “What?” You direct your attention to the sleepy man, a sharp bite to your words. “What do you mean ‘here we go again’?”   Taehyung’s eyes widen and he begins to slide away from the counter, not wanting to be in the face of your wrath. Yoongi, on the other hand, has never been intimidated by you in the least bit. “The both of you are always fighting.”   You glance at your boyfriend. “No, we’re not.”   “First it was about cookie dough and then pineapple on pizza, soufflés and now this.” Yoongi spits straight up facts without sugar coating it and you’re left stumped. You didn’t realize how it looked to outsiders. You know there’s never animosity between you and Jungkook — it’s just debates, but you suppose the arguments happen frequently.   You stare at Jungkook and he smiles tenderly at you.   The man turns back towards his friends.   “I like getting Y/N riled up. Isn’t it fun to watch her?”   “Excuse me?” you scoff, not expecting that kind of response.   “Ugh.” But Taehyung takes his words in a completely different meaning and his face scrunches. “So this is a kink you guys get off on? Making other people suffer by listening to your bickering?”   Jungkook doesn’t say anything and merely wiggles his brows. It makes your face hot and Yoongi appears disgusted as well next to his baking partner.   Your boyfriend looks off at you. “How about chocolate strawberry cake then? We can have chocolate cake layers and alternate between cream and ganache in between. We can frost it in strawberry buttercream with strawberry roses as decoration — and of course, a pile of chocolate strawberries as the topper.”   You grin at him, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “Brilliant. As usual.”   “Ugh.” Taehyung groans even louder. “Nevermind. Go back to hating each other. I can’t handle you two being sappy and gross.”   “Well get used to it,” you tell him proudly while Jungkook drapes an arm over your shoulder, approving your message.   It’s only when the teacher brushes past all four of you and reminds all of you to continue kneading your dough do you remember that you’re in class with everyone eavesdropping in.   But you don’t mind shamelessly flaunting your relationship with Jungkook — you’re proud of him and of loving him.   //   It’s later that night when you’re snuggling while watching some show playing on his laptop, that you verbalize some doubts that Taehyung’s snuck into your mind. “Do you think we argue too much?”   “What?” Jungkook turns his head. “Not really. I like arguing with you — well, not in any way that makes any of us upset or anything, but I like our heated debates. Why? Don’t you?”   “I do,” you hum. “I was worried you didn’t. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m always picking fights with you.”   He laughs and the sound is melodic to your ears. Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, making sure he’s holding you close. “You are. But I don’t mind. We don’t need to agree on everything to be together.”   You lean into his warmth and a content sigh escapes your lips.    Of all the things that you disagree with Jungkook on, you think he would agree that the both of you cherish being with one another. Future wedding or not, you want to savour every moment and all the antics you have together. That’s all that really matters.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #btsboulangerie #jungkook x reader #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #sugar and coffee #ONE MORE CHAPTER GUYSSSS

[sugaabooga]

Aim and Shoot Your Shot

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: fluff, conartist!Taehyung, assassin!reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: PG-13, mentions of blood, guns, death, scam artists, video games LOL (nothing to gorey or serious tho), some cursing, very inaccurate descriptions of assassins-ish/scam artist missions

Synopsis: It do be Valentine’s Day.

Gunshots fire. Bullets whizz past your cheek. The stench of fresh blood reaches your nostrils. And yet. As you walk through the blood pooling at your feet, you don’t flinch.

Your hand is steady, resting on the trigger and ready to turn the corner.

BAM.

A clean headshot is fired and you’re thrown back with spurts of blood shooting out your neck onto the dirt floor.

“Damn,” you mutter, roughly tossing your mouse aside at your 20th death.

“How the hell are you an assassin with a KDA of 6/20/3?” a voice snickers through your headphones as you lean back into your swivel chair and shut off the game client.

“Real life and games are different, I guess,” you shrug.

The line abruptly goes dead making you straighten up in your chair in confusion. “What?” you mutter, checking up on the headphone cords and pc wires.

“You gonna sit there all day?”

You whip around to see Taehyung, your group’s main conman, and your partner in crime. Literally.

“We got a call,” he says, tossing over your hat and mask and cooly walking out the door. You slip on your cap and mask, pulling on a black jacket over your all-black look, and shove on your white sneakers.

“You have got to teach me better aim,” you mutter as you hop into the passenger seat. Taehyung scoffs as he starts the van’s engine, driving towards the Kim family’s mansion where your team was stationed to take action at the shady networking party.

“Says the sniper,” he shakes his head.

You sigh. “I don’t know what it is. It’s just not the same.”

At the sudden silence, you glance at Taehyung’s side profile, never able to get used to his perfectly sculpted face as his eyes intently focus on the road before you.

“What’s the matter?” he suddenly asks, briefly meeting your eyes before turning right back onto the streets. You flinch at the unexpected interaction and shake your head.

“N-Nothing,” you hum. “Is… Eunji going in with you today?”

Taehyung nods. “She always does for these cocktail parties.”

“Right,” you mutter under your breath.

You don’t know what you have against Eunji. She had joined the team a month after you finished sniper training and attending the main missions. 

She took on the role as a con woman alongside Taehyung, acting as his plus one at these types of rich people events you guys attended.

Despite their visual charisma when Eunji held onto Taehyung’s arm and they both flashed their blinding smiles, Taehyung had always worked with you the best through the mere earpieces. He was good at flattering others and extremely observant, using his quick wit to navigate the areas. You were good at keeping him in check, giving clear, specific orders, and watching his back.

The two of you had effective communication as he gave signals through your binoculars for you to make the first shot. After one specific instance where Taehyung had experienced massive injuries and laid right under one of the notorious gang members, you had sniped the guy right off of him and weirdly, things started to change between you and Taehyung. Your friendship grew stronger despite the field of work the two of you were in and you found the both of you often relying on each other.

But nevertheless, Eunji was good at acting just like Taehyung which automatically earned her the position as the main con artist and appear as the perfect wealthy young couple at parties and business affairs. You had been ignoring the green feeling you got every time you had to watch them through your binoculars but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Taehyung stifles a laugh, immediately catching your attention.

“Are you jealous?”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected question that makes your heart race in nervousness. “Why would I be jealous? Of who?”

Taehyung shrugs, an amusing smirk plastered onto his stupidly handsome face. Before you could retort, Taehyung stops the car towards the wooded area hidden from main traffic and hops into the back to change into his suit.

You snap out of your confusing emotions, reminding yourself that you were in on an important business deal with the infamous Kim family who believed Taehyung and Eunji was the Shin family from France.

You quickly retrieve your weapons and materials from the trunk and nag Taehyung to safely carry out the mission and not be rash like he often was. He responds with a mischievous smile and a flick to your forehead before heading towards the hacker, Kim Namjoon’s van to take note of any security obstacles and important individuals.

You quietly run through the back route that you had analyzed on the way here and make your way up to the building labeled Building B. You shove in your earpiece before setting up your equipment, keeping a sharp eye out for any suspicious movements around you. Dealing with the Kim family was always risky business.

“Testing. Cinnamon buns. Testing.”

You snort. “Wanna go on a cinnamon bun date with me, Yoongs?”

Yoongi, the other experienced sniper currently stands on the opposite building from you, setting up his own materials. He ignores your comment, as usual, and focuses on the main hall of the mansion.

“Honestly, I always thought you guys looked cute together,” another voice adds with a snicker that you join in on. It was always too fun teasing Yoongi.

“What!?” Taehyung nearly yells into your ear making you grimace at the sudden loudness.

“Taehyung. Please,” Yoongi grits. “And shut the hell up, Park. Make sure you don’t end up knocking out the wrong man.”

That had happened before.

“Is Taeji in?” Jungkook, the new recruit in charge of hand to hand combat, interrupts the mild banter through the earpiece.

You refrain from rolling your eyes at the combination of Taehyung’s and Eunji’s names that your dumb team members came up with and listen quietly to Yoongi’s confirmation of observing the main entrance.

“Jimin,” Yoongi suddenly interrupts the silence. You scan the ballroom and spot the man in question who was, as always, flirting with a random woman for absolutely no reason except shits and giggles. “You aren’t here to pick up a one-night stand.”

You let out a short laugh as you see Jimin tense up indicating his entire body’s suppression of rolling his eyes. He successfully maintains his signature eye smile in front of the bashful female bartender who slips him a napkin. Probably with a set of numbers written on them.

“Security system is officially down,” Namjoon informs. “Taeji, Y/N. Standby at target.”

You quickly get into position, peering through your gun at the tall glass windows on the side of the target room. Once you make sure it’s in place, you use your binoculars to keep a close watch on the surroundings. You sweep over Taehyung and Eunji’s positions as they converse with some of the guests at the ball.

“Kim Seokjin entered through the side entrance doors,” Yoongi reports.

“Naturally get out of the conversation,” Namjoon instructs. “Kim approaching ten o’ clock about 100 ft away.”

You watch Eunji tug on Taehyung’s arm and lean close to whisper something in his ear.

You roll your eyes. Was that really necessary to get out of the conversation? You knew Eunji harbored feelings for Taehyung and always made it a point to be extra touchy on missions where they were required to enter as a couple.

You sigh as Taehyung gazes down at her with his playful grin and wraps his arm around her, quietly saying their excuses to the guests and taking their leave to “coincidentally” bump into Seokjin.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s quiet voice calls.

“Listening,” you murmur.

“Remember. Don’t shoot unless it’s a life or death situation.”

“Got it,” you assure him, remembering that one time you had accidentally pulled the trigger during a winning fight. Good thing you had missed it because that would’ve been an extremely difficult situation to clear up.

Namjoon instructs Taehyung and Eunji to lead Seokjin into the back room where the transaction was scheduled to take place.

“How is someone so evil so good looking,” you say once you get a proper look at the man’s visuals as he follows after Taehyung and Eunji without any suspicion.

Eh, Tae’s more of my type. You think.

Yoongi rolls his eyes when he sees Taehyung’s jaw tense at your words that had accidentally spoken through your earpieces.

“Make a move if you’re mad,” Yoongi snickers as you scoff believing it referred to you while Taehyung jolts in surprise.

After a flashing light signal, Taehyung naturally walks towards the windows, slowly drawing the blinds closed just in case any rival gangs or crews were also present on the scene. Namjoon and Yoongi were watching the room from their respective visible places while Jimin and Jungkook were getting ready for any surprise attacks a few meters from the door. You stay still in position, taking this time to stretch your limbs since you didn’t have a visible line of sight.

A few minutes pass in silence which was quite normal for these types of meetings. It’s only when these business transactions get gangs involved that things go haywire and blood is shed.

“Shit,” Taehyung’s familiar timbre voice comes in through your headpiece. You immediately grow tense as Jimin quickly asks about the condition of the situation.

“Transaction is complete,” Namjoon quickly clarifies. “I don’t know why Taehyung cursed. Yoongi and Y/N stay in your positions till the Kims completely exit. Taeji and Kook, hurry and head out into your vans. Jimin hang around for about twenty more minutes. Don’t end up in a motel tonight.”

Jimin giggles as he walks back out into the main ballroom. “I’ll try.”

“Geez Tae,” Jungkook sighs, walking out towards the back of the mansion. “I thought I had to bust in.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says, walking out through the back still in his suit and practically glowing. He fidgets with his watch and fiddles the knife stuck around his hip. “Did you guys realize it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow?”

You turn away, putting your binoculars aside as Eunji suddenly perks up expectantly at Taehyung’s random inquiry.

“Y/N,” Taehyung calls with hesitance.

You sigh, kneeling at your gun and peering in through the scope just in case. “I’m here.”

Unfortunately.

“You free tomorrow?”

You pause, leaning back from the gun. Was he trying to make fun of your single ass?

You don’t realize that just twenty feet below you, Taehyung awkwardly paces around as Eunji squints her eyes and huffs away to her respective van.

“Tomorrow?” you ask in confusion. “You tryin’ to have a galentines or something because obviously I do not have any pla-”

“Dumbass. He’s asking you out for Valentine’s Day,” Jimin suddenly interrupts, immediately sending both Taehyung and your faces to flush red.

You gulp. “As in-”

“A date,” Taehyung finishes. He nervously peers up at the building you were standing on top of earlier. He’s able to spot your dark figure. You turn around, somehow meeting Taehyung’s eyes as the mansion’s lights illuminate where you both stand.

“This is nasty,” Jungkook mutters with a sigh, hopping into Namjoon’s van.

Ding.

“This isn’t what I meant by making a move,” Yoongi sighs, tossing aside his water bottle after taking a swig. “Public confessions are a thing now?”

You look away, digging into your back pocket for your vibrating phone.

Tae: Go out... with me.

You intake a sharp breath, looking down only to see Taehyung typing away.

“You’re just salty that you’re lonely,” Jimin hums back at Yoongi, entering the ballroom with a flirty grin directed at CEO Shin’s mistress.

Tae: I like you Y/N. Wanna be my valentine?

“Fuck you,” Yoongi deadpans.

You: :3 teach me how to aim?

Taehyung grins, looking back up to see you peer down at him from the ledge.

“FOREVER AND ALWAYS!” he yells with a boxy smile.

“We’re literally going to die,” Namjoon groans.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #bangtanidx #btsboulangerie #bts #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenario #bts scenario #taehyung fluff

[justimajin]

Rise of the Nation’s King ♔ Part ½

⊶ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⊶ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut (pt. 2)

↳ Historical AU, King AU

⊶ Words: 5.1k

⊶ Summary: Being born with nothing and yet wanting everything, Min Yoongi understands that the world will only favor those born with sliver spoons in their mouths. However, when an unseen incident breaks out at the royal palace one day, he’s forced between choosing all that he treasures for something much more. But Yoongi doesn’t know if losing you will ever keep him sane. 

⊶ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic depictions of violence and death

The marketplace is livelier around this time of the year. 

Merchants and venders alike have surrounded themselves with goods that are chased after. From dangling strings of freshly cut red meat to heads of boars displayed in the front of their wooden stalls, the assortment brings those scrambling with coins and eyes flaked with desperation to scavenge as much as possible. 

A man dressed in a dark turquoise hanbok idles down the road with a dazed smile on his lips, too caught up in his own world to discover that the long fishing pole he reels has smacked into the back of another merchant’s head. His new stock is left flapping on the ground, covered in a layer of fine dust that has collected from the feet of others. 

His face is instantly coloured in a shade of red, “YAH! Can’t you watch where you’re going?!” 

The other man that’s received a generous layer of fish oil against his straightened hair whips his head around, donning a similar expression to him. He wears a dull green hanbok in contrast, a pale blue headband wrapped around his forehead and concealing the youthful features he radiates. 

He faintly touches the back of his head, left with an eerie smell that only reminds him of another grim-covered man he had passed by the other day.

“Shouldn’t you watch where you’re going old man?!” He scoffs, watching his opponent’s eyes increase by tenfold. 

“Old man?!” Despite the clearly visible facial hair on his chin and wrinkled lines maring his forehead, the younger fellow has struck him where it hurts most, “Why, I outta-” 

He fists his green hanbok and the man does the same to his blue one. Within moments, they’re engaged in a heated fight that relies more on swings and kicks that are clumsy and barely do any damage, provoking them to resort to the fine art of name-calling instead. Their ruckus elicits mixed reactions from neighboring stalls, all throwing them strange and annoyed looks. 

A man in the corner darkly chuckles, clad in a ragged beige jacket and a large straw hat perched on top of his black strands. There’s a rope filled with tools hanging from the seam of his hips, ranging from a hammer, a chisel and the most used, a pickaxe.

He leans against the old wall, his dusted arms crossed and drained eyes hardened as he watches the duo taunting each other. It’s fascinating to simply watch, because those who have more always seem to be heavily prone to quarreling about such non-sensible things. 

A deep sigh passes the seam of his lips, pushing his legs off the wall and taking a mere glance around before strutting through the marketplace. He walks slow, observing the man that carefully guides the horse carrying his load of loot with a rope, protecting the merchandise with all that he’s got. He also observes the woman throwing hopeful glimpses around, the fish she’s spent hours collected rapidly turning stale within the span of a mere couple of hours. 

He suddenly flinches, a wince descending through his right leg. Memories of the dark and humid caverns flash through his mind, tiring hours of gripping his pickaxe and swinging it in between layers of soot to retrieve battered pieces of stone only for greedy hands to immediately whisk it away. He’s left with a body that aches for him to stop, a bag of a few mesly coins tossed in his face and the chuckles of officials that hone down his work. 

His face contorts, fists clenching and shoulders tightened when he’s forced to step off the road with his tender leg. He leans against the wall again, breathing in harsh gasps as sweat quickly manifests underneath his straw hat. His eyes are shadowed before he flutters them close, a haze of muted fury silently spurring. 

“Yoongi!” A faint voice from afar calls, expeditiously growing louder, “Yoongi!” 

His eyes snap open, “Yoon-OOF!” 

He immediately whips around, sight landing upon your collapsed form. A cluster of coughs plague you from the mixed humid air and wafting dust in the crowded area, many merchants swiftly passing by you without another look. One in particular eyes you in irritation, your small mishap occurring right in front of his potential customer and nearly spoiling the boar head the man had been keen on selling. 

“Foolish girl! Go make a mess somewhere else!” He angrily shouts, your form instantly shrinking away. 

“S-Sorry.” You offer, a yelp escaping you when a strong hold suddenly lifts you up. You avertedly cling to Yoongi’s side as the man continues to spew out how much your recklessness could have damaged his material and ruined his clential, but the man holding you next to him isn’t having any of it. 

“She’s already apologized.” Yoongi states. 

“Instead of apologizing, maybe she should pay for the damages!” He barks, gesturing to his table, “Do you know how long it took me to find boars this fine?!”

You move forward to offer another humble apology, but Yoongi tugs you back. He grabs a small pouch from his waist, throwing the bag into the man’s face as the few coins contained inside spill out onto the ground. 

“There. Happy now?” Yoongi ignores the hungry ravenous look the man has, simply turning to leave and dragging you by hand with him. He leads you into the main road of the marketplace, taking an intrigued glance at all the things being offered inside the various stalls. 

“Yoongi.” Your grip on his hand tightens and he turns around questioningly, “Those were the coins you earned today….” 

“It doesn’t matter.” He mutters, eyes downcasted. He ignores the pinch those words bring him. “I still have enough saved up.” 

You become quiet, guilt still written all over your features. Yoongi sighs, glancing over to a stall selling bundles of meat. 

“You wanted to eat beef the other day, right?” He gestures towards it, “Go grab some.” 

Your eyes flicker, “I-I can’t let you do that Yoongi, we still have a hole in our roof to fix.” You recall both of you promising to hold back on expenditures when a certain harsh downpour had happened, the entirety of your belongings left thoroughly soaked with residue. 

“We can still buy one piece.” He smirks, a spark of playfulness in his eyes, “But you’ll have to share with me.”

You smile, heading over to the merchant once he’s finished with his last customer. Although you’re happy with being able to purchase some form of expensive meat after so long, you end picking the smallest piece to spare both you and Yoongi the troubles of paying. But it’s hard to erase the elation you have carrying it over to him, a somber question remaining on the tip of your tongue. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” You whisper out loud, the inquiry leaving a sad smile on Yoongi’s lips once you return. It’s a smile that speaks volumes, throbbing the dreadful gash that runs from his forehead to his cheek, his vision still not completely recovered as his peripheral view comes out distorted. 

Yoongi silently stares at you, an unsaid answer breezing by the light whistles of the air and the chattering among the people. 

Because you’re all that I have left now. 

***

Hugging the precious piece of meat to your chest, you walk aimlessly behind Yoongi throughout the entire marketplace. Yoongi in particular doesn’t seem so interested in purchasing anything, rather he observes the rest of the items displayed. You eventually become occupied with a woman who urges you to steal a glance at her range of slippers, the spiked up costs bearing a pout to form on your lips. 

The sound of a loud thud breaks you out of your thoughts, swiveling around to see all the townspeople flocking together. Yoongi instantly appears in the midst of them, grabbing onto your hand that’s not holding the meat and tugging you with him. 

“What is it?” You quietly ask, alarmed by the sudden increase of officials dressed in dark blue robes surrounding you. 

“The sinmungo.” Yoongi points to the large drum positioned at the edge of the road, a swirl of cool blue and warm orange decorated in the middle of it. You recall having seen it a handful of times, namely whenever there had been an issue between the authority of the law and the people of your class which needed resolving. Initially you had presumed that it worked in the form of being as a collective voice for all of you, but you had soon to discover the royal will it holds. 

“Who dares defy the King?” One official speaks up, a menacing glare in his eyes. In his grip is an unsheathed sword, pointed towards the man currently cowering on the ground beneath him. 

“I’m sorry! I-I meant no disrespect to His Majesty.” The man stutters, grasping onto any piece of mercy, “M-My wife has been sick and I-I had to sell everything for her treatment.” 

The official steps up and withdraws his sword, his gaze landing on the small palanquin hidden behind them. Your eyes are drawn to the intricate green and gold details glittered along the surface, the picture of a bright golden dragon painted in the centre.

Another official steps up, adorned in dark green robes. “This man has refused to pay the tax from running a business on His Majesty’s land. What is the verdict for such a crime?” 

A hand brushes pushes past the curtains of the laid palanquin on the ground, your eyes eager to see the unknown ruler of your land in the flesh. To your dismay, he makes a simple gesture and withdraws instantly. 

The man begins to shriek madly in horror, tears streaming down his eyes when the green official drags him by his collar and throws him in front of the one wielding a sword. He yanks it out, ignoring the man’s pleads of hysteria, before the sword descends down on his neck with a swift jerk. 

Your eyes are immediately covered, the gruesome sound of flesh tearing and blood splattering onto the ground ringing through your ears. The people surrounding you let out gasps of terror, a silence laced with fear prevailing heavy in the air. 

Yoongi twists you around from the sight, removing his hand from your face and replacing it within your hold instead. He drags you away, images of violent screams and begging sobs plaguing his mind as the sinmungo is hit once again. 

The King has made his new decree. 

You wipe away the tears streaming from your eyes with a trembling hand, something you know Yoongi can feel when his grip only tightens. Breezing by the many people cluttered together to view the sudden authority, their whispers serve to only increase the fear in you by tenfold. 

“That’s the third one in two days!” One shouts, stuck in disbelief. 

“This is absurd! An execution for not being able to pay tax??” Another one scoffs, “Is the King trying to kill off all his people?!” 

You freeze, blood running cold. A yank on Yoongi’s beige jacket makes him falter, spinning around to face your dread stricken features. 

“T-There’s been more than one. If we don’t pay on time-” A shudder runs through your body, the thought of you and Yoongi being next brings nothing short of utter despair. It’s no news that you and Yoongi are both a part of the sangmin class - the ones that are thrown with the king’s leftovers and then trampled on once your will to survive has completely fizzled and diminished. 

Yoongi lets go of you, stepping forward to cup your cheeks within his palms. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispers, but the way his pupils shake with the impending doom speak of a different story. He releases you, grabbing onto your hand once more. 

You want to believe his words, you want to bask yourself in the strength he always manages to muster up when things head south. However, the perception of unruly bloodshed and injustice have lodged themselves too deep in the confines of your mind, the remaining hidden pieces of hope slowly breaking off bit by bit. 

You’re still shaken up by the events of the day by the time you reach home. 

Yoongi doesn’t attempt to pry into your silence, simply retrieving a handful of wood planks and tossing them into the middle of a brewing fire. He leaves once more to grab an old chair and a sheet of loose fabric, climbing up to the space where a chilling breeze has begun to enter through your roof. You’re reduced to somberly watching him from the corner of your bed, the mere satisfaction of temporarily enclosing it barely meeting his eyes. 

He claps his hands together, shaking off any remains of dust before approaching you with curious eyes. 

“How has your business been?” He settles down next to you, his gaze remaining on the occasional sparks the fire lets out. You’re at least grateful for the surge of warmth it gives off, eyes downcasting. 

“Slow.” You mumble, “I-I’m not earning much these days….” 

Your view drifts over to the tangles of thread woven through bundles of cloth, resting on the table where you presume dust is now starting to collect. The thought haunts you with more vivid images of a future line of fate you’re so close to taking a step upon, water harshly welling up in your eyes. 

“Y/N…” Yoongi shifts closer to you, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We’ll be okay.” 

“W-We can’t be sure of that.” Tears stream down your cheeks, a sharp quiver in your words. Your eyes stray over to the long incision running through his left eye, fingers reaching out to faintly trace it. Yoongi stills as you do, pain flashing through his eyes despite the wound having long been healed. 

“Even after so long…” Yoongi whispers, a sad chuckle leaving his body. “I can still hear their screams.”

Your hand falters, eyes lowering. “The King has been all losing his patience as of lately.” Yoongi hums, “We already have nothing and now he wants to take that away too.” 

No matter which direction you look at it, the sentence is absurd. You know better than to question the ways of the law, but the only word settling down for such treatment is simply cruel. 

“The King is a bloody tyrant.” Yoongi spits out, your eyes growing wide, “He sits in his golden throne all day long and executes all the people that he’s left his scraps to.” 

“Yoongi!” You harshly whisper, avertedly glancing around you. There’s a hardened look in his eyes from the gesture, voice growing louder.

“What? You know I’m right.” You tightly seal your lips, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“You are.” You take another quick glance around, “But his ruling is something that is out of our control.” 

Yoongi grows silent, annoyance still written over him. “For now, we need to find a way to earn more before-” 

You falter, the words ‘before we’re next’ not being able to leave you. 

Yoongi sighs, his tense form becoming relaxed. “You’re right. I’ll go to the officials tomorrow and see if I can join the military.” 

Astonishment sparks within you from the resolution, lucidly recalling Yoongi’s firm declaration that he wouldn’t want anything to do with the King and his empire in the future. His motive of earning on his own ended up becoming more and more solid as the days spun by, his hands and face constantly covered in an increasing amount of soot. 

“Y-You want to join the military?” It pays better, you know that. But it's something you never wanted to push onto him. 

He nods, “We need the money now more than ever.” There’s a faint smile lingering on his lips, “And besides, weren’t you saying something about needing to save up for a wedding the other day?” 

Crimson immediately flushes through your skin, swiveling around to grab a piece of fabric, “W-We don’t need to worry about that right now.” 

Yoongi glances in your direction, softly smiling when you lay down the rough sheet onto the surface of the bed and smooth it down carefully with your hands. You then move to place one on the opposite bed, settling down with a content hum and shuffling closer to the fire he’s made. 

He eventually joins you and lays his head against the rugged sheet, maneuvering himself to view your delicate features from across him. He observes the way your eyes have fluttered shut, content with the small space you have and the thinness of the blanket covering you, a single wish spurring out from the depths of his heart in that moment that quickly forms into a promise. 

He would do anything in his capacity to protect you. 

***

Despite the horrid display of power yesterday, the townspeople have fallen back into the routine of their daily duties. Yet it is still unnerving how many of them avert their gazes from the once flourishing stall, faint reminiscences of a sweating man unloading all of his chickens in anticipation that he comes home to a wife that longs to end her own suffering.

Now all that remains are broken shards of wood, marked with the edges of a familiar sword. 

Yoongi filters through all the anxious and distressed faces, hidden underneath the large conical hat he dons. He sharply eyes the official that strolls through the road without a care in the world, plucking a handful of seeds from a stall that has a woman uneasily smiling in return. The display nearly makes him scoff, but he holds it back and struts closer to the official. 

He’s dressed in light green robes and carries a stoic expression, different compared to the one that wields a sword and beckons to the King’s every word. The seeds slip from his palm at Yoongi’s sudden appearance, measly tossing them all away as the woman before him gingerly performs constructive bows. 

His voice is low, “What do you want?” 

“I wish to join the military.” Yoongi states, the words already tasting like acid. “To serve and yield to the beloved King.” 

The man smirks, an action that has Yoongi’s eyes narrowing, “Are you aware of how the military works? We only look for those that are physically fit to exclusively serve His Majesty.” 

“I work as a miner.” He clarifies, taking out his pickaxe, “I am more than capable of serving in the King’s army.” 

The man lets out a hearty chuckle, still stuck in disbelief. “It takes a lot more than that, miner. Maybe try around next year when you’re more adequate to fight for His Majesty’s sake.” 

Yoongi clenches his teeth, fists rounding. He’s made a promise to protect you and he didn’t come here to simply take no for an answer. 

“I need to join the military now.” He grabs onto the official's delicate robes in a fit of rage, only for the man to push him away. 

“Such insolence!” He spits, dusting off the parts of his hanbok that Yoongi’s managed to crease. He’s ready to unleash a storm of anger on the commoner man, but the straw hat on his head has withered onto the ground. 

The official freezes. 

The brewing anger vanishes within a flash, and he takes a handful of careful steps. 

Yoongi glares at him, tugging himself up with a scowl lined on his lips. He takes a glance at his arms, luckily not having been injured due to the man’s reckless actions. 

When Yoongi looks up and stares at him, the official staggers back. 

“I-It can’t be….” He whispers, appearing to have seen the equivalent of a ghost. Yoongi raises a brow, deciding to grab his fallen pickaxe instead and hook it onto his belt. 

The official latches onto his arm. 

It happens within the blink of an eye. One moment he’s crossed with annoyance, utter fury fueling the way the official treats him like he’s a piece of dirt and rejecting all his efforts at earning more for the two of you. Another moment, the official has slapped a hand over his mouth, dragging him to a secluded corner where Yoongi sees more of them crowded together. 

He’s thrown onto the ground harshly, a collection of gasps spiking around him. A blindfold is suddenly wrapped around his eyes, concealing his sight completely. He struggles at the layers of rope tied around his torso, desperately trying to free himself from the durable material. 

“Let me go, you bastards!” He growls, but a pricking pain is sent to the back of his head, rendering him unconscious as he crumbles down to the ground. 

***

Your brows are furrowed, the pin in your fingers delicately held. A small incision is made through the fabric, woven back to make another loop before you stretch out the thread and tighten it. You pluck the needle again, repeating your actions to create the long design. 

“Excuse me?” A voice halts your actions, a young girl standing before you with a smile, “How much is this?” 

She points to the piece you had created a couple of days ago, now sitting deflated on top of the wooden display. The incomplete fabric in your hands is instantly tossed away and you scramble to get closer to the potential customer. 

“Five won.” You immediately reply. The girl nods and reaches into the small pouch located on the string tied to her skirt, rummaging for the amount. The coins are placed delicately within the palms of your hands and she thanks you with a smile. 

Once she departs, you can only stare at the recycled pieces of metal that shine in your hands. A flood of joy overwhelms your senses, tightly fisting the coins. You can’t bring yourself not to glance around in anticipation, a smile blossoming on the corner of your lips and hastily closing your shop. 

You know it isn’t enough to buy a piece of meat, or that it would barely cut through the costs of repairing an ancient crumbling roof, but your feet assume otherwise when you rush through the crowd of civilians strolling down the marketplace. Your smile only widens once you catch sight of Yoongi’s signature hat, currently in the midst of conversing with one of the officials. 

Your curiosity grows the more you drift closer and peer in behind a shop, Yoongi’s convincing tone entering your ears. 

“I am more than capable of serving in the King’s army.” 

You tenderly smile, but a sharp laugh breaks into the air. “It takes a lot more than that, miner. Maybe try around next year when you’re more adequate to fight for His Majesty’s sake.” 

Hurt flashes across your features, your eyes immediately moving to see Yoongi’s form stiffen. The ground crunches as you falter to intervene, taken aback when Yoongi suddenly advances and takes a hold of the man’s robes. 

You flinch when Yoongi stumbles onto the ground, his hat falling off his black locks. The official sends him a look of disgust, his cheeks flushed. 

“Such insolence!” 

The official suddenly halts in his steps, eyes dazed as if he was stuck in a trance. “I-It can’t be….” 

Yoongi appears as confused as you are, the man grabbing onto his arm in an instant. The confusion completely disappears once he pulls Yoongi towards him, silencing him immediately much to your own horror. He begins to drag him away and you rush forward, swooping up his fallen hat. 

The streets are bustling with people as you chase after them, bumping into you with zero consideration. You end up stumbling, the dull beige hanbok you wear getting easily stained with grim. You pay no attention, simply scrambling back onto your feet and heading into the direction you last saw Yoongi. It turns out to be an empty ditch in between two abandoned stalls, a pang of panic running through you when you see Yoongi on the ground blindfolded and in the process of being tied up. 

“Let go of me, you bastards!” You hear Yoongi roughly shout, a man with a large wooden block coming up behind him and smacking the back of his head. Yoongi slumps down onto the ground, not long before an ear piercing scream leaves your lips. 

“YOONGI!” Tears stream down your eyes as you rush to desperately push the man dragging his limp body away. He retaliates by whirling around and hitting the side of your face with a harsh smack, your form falling onto the ground with a loud thud. You quickly glance up to see them tossing Yoongi into a cart, one with faded markings of green and gold. 

The men hurriedly head into the cart alongside him, ushering the horse attached to begin moving. You immediately get back onto your feet, your hand barely grasping onto the fabric of the cart before it’s sent soaring forward. 

“YOONGI!!” You run as fast as you can this time, tears clouding your sight. You fall down onto your knees when the cart is too far in sight, your form trembling as it vanishes into disappearance. 

“Y-Yoongi…” You sob into your hands, a simple dirtied straw hat left beside you.

When he comes to, darkness is all Yoongi can see. 

There are two people on either end of him, dragging his body against the ground. The faint chatter of voices sweep through the room, mere echoes entering his ringing ears. His breathing stills, the light air feeling different to the humid one he’s accustomed to. 

The sound of rumbling perks his ears, right before he’s sent flying across the room. The restriction of vision is pulled away from his eyes and for the first time in a while, he can actually see what is around him. 

It’s dark for being able to finally see, a shadow casted across from the silk curtains blocking out any forms of light coming from the two windows. There are four large pillars at each corner, spirals of deep green and bright gold decorated into the lavish and broad room. In front of him stands the very official he had gone to in search of work, but now he keeps his head down and gaze scattered. 

He asks the question he’s been dying for an answer to, “Where am I?” 

Among the six individuals in the room, no one speaks a word. 

“What do you want from me?!” He roars, chest heaving. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, he doesn’t know if there’s daylight or moonlight outside, he doesn’t know if you’re okay, if you’ve already reached home by now only to discover that his abrupt absence. 

The official he knows steps up, appearing scrutinized under his stare. He opens his mouth, only to close it a couple of times before spewing any words. 

“What is your name?” He calmly questions, earning a twitch from Yoongi’s eye. The man appears startled from the gesture, backing away immediately. 

Yoongi deeply exhales, “Min Yoongi.” 

The men in the room exchange strange looks, something that just leaves Yoongi puzzled. 

“And you said you are a miner?” 

“Yes.” Yoongi grits, “If you brought me here just for an interrogation, I’m assuming you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” 

Everyone in the room hesitates at that. They gather in a circle far from here, seemingly discussing something amongst themselves. 

“What do we do now?” One dressed in black robes whispers, frightened. 

“We can’t keep him in here forever.” 

“But we have to! It’s the only way.” 

Yoongi frowns, constantly tugging on the back of his hands roughly. The material of the rope is extremely steady, that’s for sure. 

They all collectively turn around, Yoongi pausing his escape momentarily from all the stares. 

The one adorned in black steps up, “We need to show you something.” 

***

He’s led into a cavern, a spiral of stairs descending down. It had taken a considerable amount of convincing on his kidnappers part for him to follow them around aimlessly whilst still tied up, but Yoongi can’t merely shake off the strange feeling he’s been getting since he’s arrived. 

The halls he’s passed by are extraordinarily decorated with rich coats of paint, gold ornaments hanging down from the ceilings and the floor polished as if it was made of fine marble. It’s not the same rustic grounds he’s walked countless times upon, something being utterly unusual of this place he’s been brought onto. 

Once the various rounds of stairs are done and a large green door is presented before him, Yoongi catches the faint glimmer in everyone’s eyes. They appear hesitant, as if they were just on their way to committing a grave sin. After the tense moment, one of them slots a golden key into the lock and the door comes creaking open. 

The very first thing Yoongi notices, is the sudden ominous atmosphere the room has taken. It’s almost borderline suffocating when one of the men tugs him in, a shining bronze crate laying in the centre of the room. He frowns at its appearance, noticing all of the men moving to stand around it in a circle. 

“What is it?” He throws out, glancing at them avertedly. One of them raises his head, distraught heavily on his features. 

“It is a tomb.” He mutters in a monotone voice, “For the late King.” 

Yoongi’s eyes dramatically widen and two of them move forward to lift the top layer covering the bronze casket. His heartbeat begins to thud against his ribcage, sweat forming at the temples of his forehead. 

“There has been an incident.” He continues, “An incident we have not let the public know of yet.” 

The casket opens with a thud and Yoongi harshly sucks in a breath. There’s a young man lying lifelessly in the coffin, dressed in royal green robes with gold embellishment. His long blonde hair has been set free, falling down delicately onto his shoulders and to the centre of his forehead. He holds an agitated expression, as if being in the afterlife had yet to bring him some peace. 

“H-He’s…” Yoongi sputters, breathing erratically. 

The official hums, glancing at the King with somber eyes. 

“Our beloved King Agust is no more….” He turns to Yoongi with a spark of hope, “but you, Sir Min Yoongi, are still alive.”

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[dimpled-gukkie]

Call Me A Thief

a/n: Happy birthday Shay @today-we-will-survive​ !!!!! I can’t believe we’ve only celebrated two birthdays of yours thus far. It feels like we’ve been friends forever. Once again I’m going to say that I’m so thankful you’re my friend and thank you for being my rock and sometimes the only person I can talk to. I hope we can celebrate many more years together and that this is your best year yet! Love you - your ghost bestie/ whatever that really long one I never remember is 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader (brief mentions of Jung Hoseok x Reader as a past relationship)

Genre: College AU, e2l, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff 

Word Count: 31.3k

Warnings: mild language, minor self-hatred (more so in the form of self doubt), mentions of drinking but not descriptions, Jimin shows up tipsy, I guess name calling but it’s not that serious, a sick pet for a short minute, oc gets somewhat depressed towards the end but it’s resolved 

Summary: In a series of truly misfortunate events, a thief, a plantnapper and a muse-seeking photographer somehow cross paths on their admittedly huge (40,000 students huge) college campus. At first glance they’re just strangers but the more they get to know each other the more they realize their roots intertwine. If the universe had kept them apart for this long, surely it wouldn’t bring them together for a disaster. Right? 

You’re an idiot. Perhaps that stupidest person you know. I mean how can you steal someone’s bag thinking it’s yours? Especially when your backpack isn’t even black and yet here you are staring blankly at the black backpack that lies limply on the table in front of you. Staring at the bag you blink listlessly at it like maybe if you blink enough times the mirage will fade and your own backpack will be in front of you. And yet several silent moments later the black backpack still sits in front of you. You don’t even know who it could belong to. Your lecture consists of 400 students, the owner of the bag could be any of them. Even worse if you email your professor about it to return the stolen item you’ll be known as the girl who stole it. You’ll be a thief. Exhaling a large sigh you slump down onto the desk in front of you, a large thumping sound ringing through the otherwise silent top floor of the library, those around you unaware of the self-damning thoughts running through your mind. 

“Wake up nerd.” Jimin’s voice says and you don’t even have to look up to know he’s looming above you, enjoying the fact that he’s towering over you for once. Oh the woes of the tiny man with the tiny hands. He pushes your shoulder with said tiny hands and you’re half considering becoming weightless and letting him shove your limp body out of the chair just so the feeling of your ass hitting the hard ground will keep you from thinking about your mistake. You can’t even make fun of Jimin for being a dumb blonde now. Well, you could say he’s killing your brain cells. Your lips quirk up at the thought, placated by the idea of pinning your mistake on your innocent best friend. After all, teasing Jimin is your favorite part of the day. 

“Are you dead!” Jimin whispers and you shoot your head up just to glare at him. 

“Don’t act so excited. Plus if I were to die I would not want to go out in a library. How unglamorous.” 

“It would be rather tasteless wouldn’t it?” He pauses for a minute before his eyes widen. “Not that anything is wrong with dying in a library. I’m sure it’s cool.” He laughs awkwardly and you can’t help but chuckle. Ever since he watched that paranormal activity movie with Yoongi, Jimin is convinced that ghosts are real and that they’re listening to every word he says. Like they’d want to follow around a guy who spends his days trying to find the most incognito insoles and browsing the hair dye section at Walgreens. But alas Jimin has always been a victim of the spotlight effect and if you had to guess would view his life as some sort of reality tv show.

“Hey whose backpack is that? Are you meeting someone?” Jimin asks, nodding to the incriminating black bag still on the table. You groan and are in the midst of throwing your head back onto the table when Jimin forcefully stops you by wrapping his hands around your face. Unfortunately, he miscalculates which results in his palms slapping your cheeks while his fingers dig into your mouth that they’d mistakenly pried open. You sputter and scrunch your face in distaste, making a similar expression to that of a baby that has just tried a lemon. 

“When was the last time you washed your hands?” You screech, unaware of the eyes on you. “I can taste the day old cheeto dust. You’ve infected me!” You whine, taking a swig of your water to gurgle like it’s mouthwash. “I need to eat soap or something.” 

“I’m the victim here! Who knows where your mouth has been. Tell me, when was the last time you saw Jung Hoseok?” Jimin also screeches then proceeds to wince when you smack his arm. 

“You ass! I haven’t seen him since we broke up a year ago, you know that.” Jimin nods while pouting, rubbing the spot on his arm like your slap stung. When he sees you looking at the movement his mouth pulls into a smirk as he rolls up his sleeve to reveal his bicep. 

“Kiss it better?” He teases, yelping and jumping backwards before you can smack him again. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Ditto.” 

“No one even says ditto anymore.” You scoff and he just shrugs. 

“I’ll bring it back, after all I’m famous you know?” 

“Just because you got ten likes on your tweet about your ex doesn’t mean you’re famous.” 

“Say that to my 200 followers.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his own version of a hair flip, before returning his attention back to the incriminating item on the table. “So is someone here with you or…” 

“I may have accidentally stolen someone’s backpack thinking it was mine…” You mumble, hoping that Jimin might not hear you. For a moment you think he might not have until you hear wheezing coming from beside you, Jimin practically sprawled across the floor as his laughter comes out in tiny squeaks. “It’s not funny! This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done! All the bleach fumes from dying your hair has rotted my brain. This is all your fault Jimin.” You whine, bottom lip jutted and brows furrowed as you take on the expression of a kicked puppy. Jimin pauses for a moment in his laughter to observe your behavior before letting out two more huffs. 

“Aww don’t pout kitkat.” Jimin coos, pinching your cheeks between his chubby fingers as he pulls them back and forth until you crack a smile. His plush lips draw into a smile of their own, his eyes creasing as he gently taps your nose. “See kitkat it’s not that big of a deal. Do you know who it belongs to?” When you shake your head ‘no’ he frowns a little before a mischievous smile pulls at his lips. 

“Well we could always look through it? To find the name of the owner of course.” Of course. Not because you’re nosey bitches or anything. 

“If I see one more skull I’m going to scream.” Jimin groans, throwing his head back against your pillows as a textbook you pulled from the backpack lays in front of him. 

“To be fair it is an anatomy textbook and a skull is part of the human body. They’re at least doodling things related to the subject.” 

“But the angst kitkat! I feel like this person only listens to MCR or something.” He whines, displeased with the artist’s choice of subject. 

“I think they’re kinda cool though. The shading’s really good and look! This one is a skull made out of butterflies.” Your fingers run along the drawing lightly, careful not to smudge the artist’s hard work but enjoying following the intricate line work.

“Besides in this notebook there’s all types of different drawings. Some marvel stuff, some succulents. I even found a cute little dog drawing!” You say, turning the notebook around to show him the little dog scrawled in the margins, its small fluffy face smiling. 

“You mean I’ve been looking at skulls for nothing?” 

“I mean I don’t know why you thought you’d find their name in a textbook but I thought maybe you were interested in the subject or something.” You shrug, ignoring the glare Jimin sends your way. 

“You suck.” He declares, sticking his tongue out at you when you look at him. You stick yours at him in response. 

“Bite me.” 

“Oh I see someone’s been watching 90’s movies lately. Tell me, do you imagine finding your own heath ledger like Kat? Or perhaps you’re more of the creepy ‘I’m gonna fall for my step-brother’ type like Cher. Though personally, I got to say I’m a big fan of the ‘childhood best friends to lovers’ trope but I digress. Hey have you found any clues yet?” 

“Well we know they’re an anatomy student and like art. I also found ‘JJK’ scribbled next to a drawing on a scrap of paper that fell out of one of the notebooks so I’m hoping that’s their initials. So we can go through the class roster and hopefully there’s an angsty bio/medical student with those initials.” Pulling out your laptop you migrate from the floor to the bed, pulling out the roster for your english class. Ever so slowly you scroll through the roster, thankful to find only two names with the initials JJK.: Jeon Jungkook and Jung Jaekwan. 

“I think we have an easy solution here. I stalk one and you stalk the other and we see which one was more likely to be in a punk band of some sort when they were in high school.” Jimin suggests, already heading towards your closet to find the best stalker outfit. 

“Or we could just find their instagrams?” You say and Jimin flicks his hand like he’s physically brushing off your suggestion. 

“Already tried, both private. That means they’re probably ugly.” 

“Hey my accounts are private!” You exclaim and you can tell by the way Jimin’s shoulders slightly scrunch inwards that he’s stifling a laugh. 

“Case in point. Anyways, what screams sexy Joe Goldberg? Like we’re definitely going full-stalker mode but like not ‘I’m going to kill you’ yandere vibes.” Jimin ignores the pillow you throw at him, continuing to babble about the perfect outfit like he didn’t just offend you. 

“This is stupid.” You grumble into the miniature walkie-talkie Jimin bought from Walmart, dressed in large sunglasses, black tights and dress, adorned with your black docs. Ever the self-proclaimed fashion icon, Jimin dressed you in every black article of clothing you owned. The sun beat down on you from above, it was rather warm for a late spring day, and you tried to ignore the way sweat began to accumulate under the black ball cap (“It’s the Joe trade mark!”Jimin exclaimed when you protested him adding that to the already questionable outfit seeing as it is almost summer). 

“And stealing someone’s backpack that’s not even the same color as your own is stupid but you don’t hear me criticizing your ideas.” He snarks back at you through the small device. 

“It wasn’t like I planned on it! I told you it was an accident!” You screech at him, only to scream as another voice sounds out from behind you. 

“What are you doing?” You turn around to face a guy with blonde hair, an old camera clutched between his large hands as he crouches down beside you. 

“What are you doing?” You parrot, mind unable to conjure up a reasonable and not weird reason for why you’re here. Here being ducked behind an overgrown bush off to the side of the life science building in hopes you’ll see Jeon Jungkook emerge from the now-finishing Anatomy 101 lecture. It’s one of four and you’re hoping that your mystery man that you’ve loosely memorized from his profile picture- although half his face is obscured by large wire framed glasses that you can’t figure out if are real or for fashion- hears your beckoning call and comes out of those double doors.

“Photography assignment.” The guy holds up the camera to justify his statement. “Are you looking for something?” He glances at the surrounding area before noticing the walkie-talkie in your hand. 

“Oh I used to love those as a kid!” Snatching it from your fingers he immediately talks into it and you face palm as you imagine Jimin’s face on the receiving end. “Houston this is starship one. We are prepared to land. Houston do you hear me?” The stranger giggles, lips forming into a peculiar grin before his eyes widen when Jimin’s voice crackles through the cheap speaker. 

“Listen dumbass, I’m out here before 2:00 pm trying to resurrect your mistake and you’re playing games with a stranger?! Do you not understand that I sacrificed my beauty sleep for this? I’m seeing Soyeon during lecture today and you know I like to look good for her.” 

Snatching the device from the stranger you hurry to appease your best friend. “I’m sorry Jiminie! But you don’t need beauty sleep, you’re already the most handsome guy I know.” 

“I’m listening.” Jimin says after your pause. 

“You could rival Aphrodite herself! In fact I’m sure that’s why she led me to steal someone’s backpack so you’d lose said beauty sleep so she could have a chance at being prettier than you!” You cringe at your own words, you don’t think you’ve ever laid it on this thick, but you need Jimin. He’s the only one you know shameless enough to help you in such an endeavor, I mean you’re literally stalking someone just to find out if you have their backpack. Plus you really didn’t mean to hurt Jimin’s feelings. 

“That was a bit too much for my taste but I appreciate your sentiment. You’ve been redeemed. Now tell your friend he either needs to go or help us.” When you turn to said “friend” he’s staring at you with pink lips parted, strong eye brows pulled together in confusion as you watch him try to process what just happened. You can’t believe someone’s witnessed the monstrosity of this whole situation, much less someone so handsome. It really would be your luck. You must be cursed or something. 

“You stole someone’s backpack?” Ahh it seems that tiny detail is what his mind has fixated on the most. 

“No not stole, accidentally took. Why would you steal someone’s bag?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He shrugs, moving to stand up and you immediately scramble up after him, thoughts of finding whoever Jeon Jungkook is long forgotten. 

“You don’t understand, it was an accident! I was tired and grabbed the one nearest me before walking out. And I’m trying to return it I just don’t know who it is so I was trying to see if this guy is missing a backpack.” You ramble, too lost in your narrative to notice the way he smiles almost fondly down at you. 

“And the walkie talkie?” 

“Oh you see we have two suspects-“ You start only to be interrupted. 

“Suspects?” 

“Yes suspects, I don’t have a better word. But I’m supposed to watch for one guy and Jimin watch for another- that’s the guy who cussed me out earlier- but I got distracted and now I just missed him which means I have to sit outside this stupid hall for the rest of the day to make sure he’s not in any of the other lectures to see if he was in this one and I just realized that he could’ve missed today which means I might have to wear this stupid outfit again-“ 

The handsome stranger raises his hand to stop your word vomit and you give him a sheepish smile when your words finally stop pouring out. “While I would like to stick around and hear more about your detective work, I have class in approximately ten minutes so I need to get going.” He says and you try to hide the way you deflate a little. 

“Oh okay.” He smiles at you one final time before jogging in the opposite direction while you watch after him. Jeon Jungkook be damned, just who was that? 

After your failed attempt at locating the aloof Jeon Jungkook- not that you were really looking because your mind was clogged with thoughts of your mystery man with the pretty smile- you trudge back to your tiny apartment in hopes to get some peace and quiet. The dream is destroyed, however, when you can hear the music from your neighbor all the way down the hall by the elevators. Agitated and sweaty, you march towards their door, more than willing to be an annoying neighbor if it means you can nap. 

The cheap door rattles lightly under your heavy fists and you can’t help the satisfaction it brings you. Banging on a door is truly a great way to release tension it seems. A muffled “Turn it down so I can think!” sounds through the thin wood and the music lowers just barely. They might as well have not even bothered to fiddle with the volume at all. The door swings open and a guy with shoulders almost as wide as the doorway- you don’t know whether his shoulders are just that huge or if the door is that small, maybe both- leans against it lazily as his gaze flickers down your form. 

“You’re not Namjoon.” Is the thought that makes its way out of your brain and into the atmosphere, the four word sentence stilling the air between you two. 

“Well you’re right there sweetheart. I’m his much more handsome older brother. And you are?” He asks and you’re rather thankful that he decided to go with it rather than think about what type of idiot states who someone clearly is not. Maybe you really are getting dumber. 

“Y/n, the lovely neighbor who just wants to take a nap. Which I can’t do if your music is so loud that I can hear it all the way down the hall.” He pauses for a moment to take in what you’ve said before pressing off the door to stand straight in front of you. He towers over you and you can’t help but shrink back a little. 

“Namjoon did tell me about a nice neighbor but he never gave me a name. Though since you’re complaining about my music I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re lovely.” 

“Hey I had a long day!” You exclaim, raising back to your full height like that will somehow get him to take you more seriously. Though with the lazy smirk he gives you, your need to prove yourself only provides him entertainment. 

“Well I’ve had a rather long day too, I’ve been babysitting all day.” A scoff of protest sounds from behind him and you try and inconspicuously look around the wide-shouldered man to see who else is inside Namjoon’s apartment. All you can see though is a random figure drowning in an oversized hoodie on the couch before the man at the door requests your attention again. Perhaps if you had looked a little harder you would’ve noticed the wire frame glasses sitting neatly on the glass end table. “Which is why I’m playing my music to relax. And drown out the incessant whining. ‘Seokjin get me water. Seokjin make me food. Seokjin do my math homework’, like I’m even good at such thing. I’m a liberal arts student.” You can’t help but laugh at the way he whines out the demands of presumably the other stranger in the apartment, his voice pitched higher than normal like he’s trying to imitate a child. 

“Well Seokjin, I have just one request. Can you please turn the music down by like a third so I won’t hear it through the wall?” You bring your hands to clasp together in front of you, cocking your head to the side while batting your eyelashes up at him. He seems like the type to like aegyo. Evidently your assumption is very much wrong as he scrunches his nose in distaste. 

“Please never make that face again. But I guess I can turn it down since you asked so nicely. Though next time you have a request for me at least buy me dinner first?” He says before waving at you goodbye through a laugh and shutting the door. The music now a quiet murmur in the hallway as you open your own apartment door. Odd, Namjoon never mentioned having roommates. 

Apparently you too have surprise roommates as a tipsy Jimin appears at your door with a suitcase behind him as he stumbles into your apartment along with his small calico cat named Kimchi who immediately jumps out of his arms when she recognizes your apartment. “Jimin?” You say tentatively, almost like if you say his name too loud he’ll snap. “What’re you doing here at 2 a.m?” 

“Mad at Yoongi. Living here now.” Is the only explanation he gives you before trudging into your bedroom, the bed creaking as he flops down on it meanwhile his suitcase still stands next to you in the living room. Kimchi pays no mind to her owner’s sad drunken form, kneading at your old couch until she finds a soft spot to curl up on. 

“Jiminie, what did Yoongi do?” 

“Told me he saw Soyeon making out with some guy in a bar yesterday.” Jimin sniffles, crawling over to lay his head in your lap when you sit down on the other side of your bed. Your fingers immediately weave through the soft strands gently similar to the way a mother would soothe her child. 

“You’re mad because he told you?” You ask. 

“Mad because he lied. Soyeon told me she couldn’t go to the movies yesterday because she had to study for an exam today. She even told me it went really well when I saw her in our com lecture. Why would Yoongi lie to me about that when he knows how I feel about her?” You can’t help the way you look down at Jimin pitifully, glad that he’s turned away from you so he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. Min Yoongi is nothing if not painfully blunt but he’s always been honest. So you know that he’s telling Jimin the truth, a truth that Jimin- blinded by his love for Soyeon that’s been growing since freshman year of college when they shared english 101- doesn’t want to hear nor accept. It’s a truth you’ve been trying to ease him into for months now, the fact that despite Soyeon knowing Jimin’s feelings she’s never made an effort to actually put effort into a relationship with him. She only drags him back in with faux affection when she can feel her hold on him begin to slip between her fingers. Jimin’s body begins to shake again as his mind drifts off to what Yoongi said again, your legs becoming slightly wet as his tears trickle onto them. 

‘Aww Jiminie,” You sigh, moving a hand to wipe at his tears on the cheek available to you. “It’s gonna be okay, you and Yoongi will still be friends after this.” 

“I just don’t know why he’d tell me that. Just thinking about her with someone else makes it feel like someone is stabbing me and cutting my heart out piece by piece. Make the pain go away kitkat. Please.” He whimpers and your heart breaks alongside him as tears fall down your own cheeks. You wish you could take the heartache away, you wish he’d never met Soyeon, that he found someone who loved him as much as he deserves. You wish that there was something you could do but sadly Jimin will have to get over his feelings on his own. There’s not much you can do besides wipe away his tears. 

“I’m so sorry Jiminie, but it’ll get better. You’ll find someone who’ll love you more than she ever could.” it’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment and while now it does nothing you hope it plants a little seed in his mind to later sprout into hope for the future. 

“Yoongi wasn’t lying was he?” Jimin says after a few minutes, voice so soft you almost miss it entirely. 

“I don’t think so bub.” You whisper, brushing his hair back from his face softly. 

“Can I still stay here? I just need some time away to think and figure out how to apologize.” 

“Stay for as long as you need.” You tell him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “What’re best friends for?” 

You wake up early the next morning to Kimchi sitting on your chest, patting your face gently with her paw. “Hi sweetheart.” You say softly and she responds by rubbing her face against yours. “You hungry?” You ask her to which she meows in response. Sitting up slowly she jumps off of you and waits impatiently for you by the door, yelling at you to hurry up. Rubbing your eyes you slip on your slippers before following her to the kitchen to make sure she doesn’t wake Jimin up. Thankfully you had babysat Kimchi earlier this year and have leftover food for her which you pour into a little bowl before moving onto making breakfast for you and Jimin. Settling on pancakes, because really who doesn’t like waking up to pancakes, you head downstairs to the nearby market to buy the necessary ingredients as well as a litter box for Kimchi. You’re not really sure how long Jimin will be staying with you but judging by the fact Jimin needs time to think about just how to apologize you can only guess the blowout between him and Yoongi was pretty bad. He’ll probably be staying for at least a week to build up the courage to even face your eldest friend. 

Pushing the shopping cart through the empty isles of the shop- honestly you should come here only in the early mornings because there’s no one to get in your way when you glide across the isles on the back of the cart- you pause in front of the small plant section in the corner of the store. They’re mostly succulents and little flowers for people who’ve forgotten anniversaries and need to pick up one last minute but you contemplate bringing home a little aloe vera plant. Jimin has always talked about wanting to start becoming a plant dad and maybe this will cheer him up a little. Just before you can grab it because yes you do need that little plant to add to the forest that is your apartment, it’s snatched up by someone’s grubby hands. You squawk in disbelief- yes sadly squawk but it’s also 8 in the morning so do you really care- blinking at the plantnapper in shock. “That’s my plant.” Similar to the not-Namjoon Seokjin incident your mouth moves before your mind has time to process what you’re going to say. 

“Is your name on it?” The thief says and you internally gag. Ugh he’s one of those guys. 

“Yes actually it’s written as ‘fuck you’ in the soil.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your plant clutched between his fingers forlornly. You don’t even bother to look up at his face, his identity shall be nothing but a plantnapper to you. 

“Are you always this pleasant?” He says airily and you almost look up at him just from hearing the smirk in his voice but refrain. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. 

“Are you always such an ass?” You quip and to your anger he laughs. He giggles like you just told him the funniest joke of the century and you can feel your insides heat up as you struggle not to throttle him. 

“If I recall correctly all I did was take this plant. You’re the one who started calling me names and cussing me out.” You hate that he’s right but you’ve always been known for your stubbornness. 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t a thief.” You tell him, reaching out to grab the plant from his hands when you notice his grip slacken slightly in confusion. If only he didn’t have good reflexes as he holds the little succulent high above his head. 

“Ah ah ah,” He tuts and you finally look up at him, coming face to face with large round eyes glinting with happiness. You scowl further as you realize he won and got you to look at him. “Such a shame a pretty face is wasted.” He says, you can just imagine the ear-splitting grin hidden behind his large black face mask. 

“Give me my plant.” You deadpan, wanting to end the altercation all together. You’d lost the will to want it so badly as soon as he pointed out that he was in fact right and you had been the one to start this petty argument, but now your desire to not lose has won over and you’re adamant on leaving with the plant still trapped in his hands. 

“Say please and I’ll consider it.” He counters, unaffected by the sharp glare you send his way. 

“I saw it first!” You whine and again he giggles. 

“What is this, elementary school? Well in that case, you snooze you loose!” If it weren’t for the face mask obscuring his mouth you just know he would be sticking his tongue out at you. Just the thought irks you enough to submit to his will. 

“Fine, can I please have the plant?” You sigh hating the way his eyes twinkle. 

“Sure thing.” He says before setting it down on the highest shelf available, one you’ll have to scale the shelf case just to grab. When he notices your expression of both defeat and annoyance his eyes crinkle once more into a large grin as he pats the top of your head lightly. “Have a nice day!” He sings before walking off in the opposite direction. You flip off his parting figure before sighing and staring at the aloe vera plant helplessly. You can’t just leave it there in case he comes back to see if you’ve managed to snag the plant. If it’s still there that means he’ll have bested you three times and you can’t have that even if he is a total stranger. 

Your feet are perched on the bottom rung of the shelving as you reach up aimlessly with one hand, your mind so busy cursing out the stranger that you don’t hear the approaching footsteps of another person until a hand comes over your outstretched one and grabs the plant. Not again, you groan internally. 

“Listen-“ You begin, turning around fully ready to be faced with a smirking crinkly eyed boy only to sputter when you realize it’s the guy with the camera you couldn’t get out of your head yesterday. He has a little apron on, one that all the employees wear, and a large silver name tag that displays his name so prettily. 

“Were you trying to get this little guy?” He asks, voice warm and smooth like honey as he gently strokes his finger along one of the leaves of the small plant. His brown hair is like the color of milk chocolate, softened by the early morning sun and he’s so beautiful and warm you fully forget how to function. Like your brain short circuits and for a moment you forget where you are and what you were saying. 

“Uhh yeah.” You manage to spit out after awkwardly gaping at him for who knows how long. “Thanks…Taehyung.” His name sounds so natural coming out of your mouth- but that’s probably just because you’re secretly a hopeless romantic who gets caught up in pretty boys much too easily- and you can’t help but wish that you’ll get to say it many more times. He gingerly hands the plant over to you and you can feel your cheeks getting hot when his fingers brush your own. 

“Anytime stalker girl.” He giggles. It’s such an endearing sound. 

“Y/n, my name is y/n.” You tell him, nervously fiddling with the leaves of your little plant. 

“Need any help finding anything else?” He asks you and maybe- just maybe- you ask him to show you where the cat stuff is. But only because you don’t know- you do- where the cat stuff is and not because you want to spend more time with him- like how you ask his opinion on what food flavors Kimchi would like when she’s not even your cat and you have food at home. 

Thankfully Jimin is still asleep when you arrive home which means you can still surprise him. You were a little stressed when you realized just how much time you had spent talking to Taehyung- just the thought of him makes you smile like a lovesick fool, grinning to yourself in your empty kitchen as you unload the groceries- but it turns out the emotional turmoil Jimin’s going through is enough to make him exhausted. Kimchi watches you mix the batter curiously from the top of the refrigerator, her tail flicking gently almost like it’s swaying to the music playing softly from your phone. “Should I make bacon?” You ask her, nodding affirmatively when she meows back at you that yes, you should. 

The bacon sizzles as it hits the hot pan while you stand as far away as possible, carefully placing each strip with salad tongs. You jump when the grease pops, mind flashing back to the time Jimin almost set the dorm kitchen on fire. For someone who had worked in a restaurant during high school you would think he’d know not to put water in a hot pan of oil. Kimchi also hates the sound, her tail whacking you in the face as it flicks agitatedly. You wipe at your tongue furiously after feeling what can only be cat hair in your mouth- possibly the worst texture of all time- before making eye contact with a sleepy Jimin leaning against the hallway wall. “You’re cooking?” He asks, no stranger to finding cat hair in uncomfortable places. 

“Thought I’d surprise you.” You smile awkwardly, gesturing to the pan before flinching when the oil pops. 

“Breakfast in bed? Your future boyfriend will be the luckiest guy out there. I didn’t even have to put out.” Jimin laughs, disregarding the way you internally gag at the thought of being intimate with Jimin. It’s not that you don’t think he’s attractive because lets’s be honest, with his plush lips that could rival any bratz doll, thick head of black hair and amazing physique from dancing- you really should’ve took him up on taking classes with him- he’s a straight stunner. His sweet and charming albeit snarky personality only makes him even more alluring. If only you hadn’t known him for so long- more like took baths with him as babies- you’d probably see him as something more than just an annoying, lovable little brother. You say little despite him being older because this man really does act like a five year old sometimes. 

“Please never put that image into my head again.” You say, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. 

“It’s your fault for imagining it. Ugh now you’re making me think about it; when will the torture end?” He whines only pausing his dramatics when you put a stack of bacon and pancakes in front of him. Immediately he slathers them in butter and syrup, completely silent as he digs in. 

“Wow thank you, Y/n you’re the best! I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.” You say sarcastically, patting yourself on the back before turning to flip your own pancakes. 

“Thanks you.” Jimin sings through a mouthful of food, standing up to give you a sticky kiss on the cheek in appreciation. 

“Gross!” You yell, wiping your cheek on a nearby dish towel before twisting it to snap it at Jimin. He shrieks in terror and you laugh manically, plating your own breakfast before sitting besides him at the counter top. The barstools creak under your weight- although what did you expect when you bought the cheapest ones available at Ikea- and you half worry it’s going to break but thankfully you don’t end up bruising your ass today. “I did such a good job. These are delicious, wow.” This time you really do give yourself on the back, proud to say that you’ve still got it. They’re fluffy, not burned, and edible. Someone needs to cast you for top chef. 

Jimin chuckles from beside you, the two of you eating in silence until Jimin notices the small aloe vera plant next to the fridge. “You bought another plant?” He says exasperated, almost like your slight plant addiction has offended him. 

“Firstly I told you the more plants the better the air quality. Plus more free oxygen.” 

“All oxygen is free stupid.” 

“Anyways, since you wanted to be a plant dad I thought you could start out with this little guy. It should be relatively easy but I can help you if you have any questions.” 

“Oh, thanks. I guess I’m a proud father of two now.” Standing up Jimin grabs the little plot, cradling it between his fingers. “It needs a name.” 

“Cherry.” 

“I hate cherries.” Jimin says going so far as to pucker his lips and scrunch his nose to show his distaste. 

“Not cherry cherries, Cherry.” You say, sighing and rolling your eyes when Jimin doesn’t understand the clear difference. “Only the best character in animal crossing, duh.” 

“She doesn’t even wear Gucci.” Jimin scoffs and you place a hand over your heart, wholly offended by the slander taking place in front of you. 

“Just because she’s not a hypebeast does not make her inferior. Besides aren’t you more of a YSL guy? Gucci is their direct competition.” 

“I just- Cherry and Kimchi sounds horrible.” Jimin sighs. 

“Please.” You plead, pulling your best puppy dog eyes. “I went through so much just to get it.” 

“Did you embarrass yourself again?” Jimin’s voice is something along the lines of a disappointed mom- the one where they just kinda sigh it out because they shouldn’t have expected you to change- and you just flash him a smile. 

“If you’re asking if I was mid-scaling a case of shelves to try and get Cherry from the very top and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen caught me in the act then yes. But I only had to scale it because this jerk wanted to flex his height and put it up there so I had to climb to get it. I mean he’s not even like super tall he’s just normal tall so maybe it’s an inferiority complex. Can tall guys have those?” You ramble, mid-tangent when Jimin raises a hand to stop you. 

“Fine we can name it Cherry. But just know when people ask me why that’s the name I’m blaming you.” 

“You act like Kimchi is not just as weird. She’s not even mainly orange.” Feeling a pair of eyes on you you turn and come face to face with Kimchi who had left her post on the fridge to make her presence known. If she had eye brows you swear she’d be glaring since her eyes have lost their typical round shape and are more angular. “Sorry baby you know I still love you.” You tell her, rubbing the top of her head until she purrs. 

“Don’t listen to her Kim, she’s lying.” Jimin whispers conspiratorially to which you gasp. Pulling her into your chest you cover her ears as you cradle her. 

“Don’t put such words in her head. I even bought new food for her!” 

“Are you stalking me?” A voice you’d recognize anywhere, Taehyung’s, says to your left and you swear you’ve never turned faster in your life. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You tease, chuckling to hide the way your heart races at the sight of him. HIs hair is a wavy mess today, toeing the line between bedhead and purposely but ever so sexy all the same. He’s wearing a thin, black sweater today tucked into some loose brown plaid plants and looks effortlessly good. It’s truly unfair for him to be this attractive, you’re not sure your heart- nor your stomach with the way butterflies are fluttering rampantly in your ribcage- can take it. “Besides aren’t you the one doing the stalking? After all I was here first.” 

“Very true but I also caught you in the act the other day, so I can’t be too sure.” He teases, nudging your arm with his own. “So have you found the guy you’re looking for yet?” He asks, moving to sit next to a bench a few feet away and patting the spot next to him. 

“Not yet, he’s more aloof than I thought.” 

“A buddy of mine had his bag stolen recently too. Apparently you’re not the only kleptomaniac on campus.” 

“I’m not a thief!” You exclaim, playfully slapping his shoulder as he giggles at you. 

“Alright, alright.” He says throwing his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Oh hey how’d your photography assignment go?” You ask, half curious and half itching to fill the silence between the two of you. 

“Nothing really struck my interest.” He shrugs. “You’re actually the only thing I could think of the rest of the day.” He says it so casually like he’s talking about what he ate that day, completely unaware of the way you clam up beside him. How do you even respond to that?

Laughing awkwardly because your mind has shut down and you’ve been left to follow your useless instincts, you fiddle with the rings on your fingers. “Yeah you’re pretty interesting yourself.” You want to bash your head into the sidewalk. That’s the best you could come up with?

“Want to be my muse?” He turns to you then, looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing to him. It makes you nervous, what will he do when he finds out that you’re just average? 

“If you want me to be.” You say softly, avoiding meeting his eyes. You’re mad at yourself for how shy you’ve become but you’ve never been in a situation like this before. Taehyung is just so blunt and sweet, but you’re so accustomed to loving insults that you don’t know how to respond in something that’s not sarcastic. 

“I want to catch you in your element.” He says, reaching over to take your hand in his own. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you turn away to hide it, turning back around when you hear the familiar shutter of a camera. You didn’t even realize he had it.

“I’m afraid I’m not that interesting.” You tell him earnestly, unable to hide your crestfallen expression. 

“I beg to differ. I mean how many girls do you find that hide in bushes outside science lectures and use mini walkie-talkies?” You can’t help but crack a smile, imagining yourself from his point of view. That must’ve been quite the sight. 

“That was a one time event. Well hopefully. I’m just kinda wishing the owner of the bag will just appear in front of me.” You sigh, looking forlornly at the life science building. You just knew the owner had to be in there somewhere. 

“That’d be easy.” Taehyung laughs, his smile falling when his phone buzzes. “I have to go to class but I’ll see you again okay?” 

“Oh okay. Should I give you my number then?” You ask, fumbling with your phone to bring up the contacts page. 

“Sure, though I think through fate we’d meet again anyways. Don’t you think it means something that out of the 40,000 students on campus we found each other?” His eyes twinkle with mirth and you smile back at him, hoping that this is some kind of act of fate. Maybe you’ve even found your soulmate. 

“I hope so.” You tell him, smile growing as a boxy grin takes over his face. You’ve never met someone so adorable. He waves at you goodbye, throwing you a cheesy kiss as he walks in the other direction, leaving you to squeal by yourself in peace. 

After spending the entirety of your free time spent sitting outside the life science building looking for a face you barely remember at this point you give up. You’ll just have to bring the backpack to the lost and found and notify your professor that you found a back from your past lecture and brought it there so he could tell the class. You’d also have to look for your own backpack, your mind so focused on the fact that you had someone’s bag that it completely disregarded the fact that you didn’t even have your own. Thankfully you still have your laptop so you’ve been able to complete your home work but all your notes were in that bag. Trudging through the hallway you ignore the noise coming from next-door, praying that by the time you return from this adventure they’ll be quiet, you quickly grab the bag and head out. You’re surprised to see a frustratingly familiar face however and you make eye contact with the guy standing outside of Namjoon’s door. You’d recognize those stupid big eyes and black mask anywhere. It’s the plantnapper. 

“You’re the thief?” He yells in disbelief, pointing to the backpack as if it’s incriminating. Well it is but it shouldn’t be to him. You only blink at him in surprise, still stood in the doorway to your apartment as your brain tries to process what this means. “I should figure as much after the plant incident.” He scoffs, eyes sharpening as he glares at your unresponsive form. He must know the person who owns this bag that has to be it. Or, oh no, what if he’s the guy who owns it.

Taking a moment to observe your self-declared nemesis, you take in the tattoos that poke out from his oversized black t-shirt, the man piercings in his ear, the all black (tattoos included) aesthetic. The only thing that doesn’t scream that he could like drawing skulls in his free time is the dorky bucket hat on his head. Stepping closer, you look in his eyes once again trying to imagine the ones from Jeon Jungkook’s instagram profile picture to them. It’s only when he crosses his arms at your scrutinizing gaze do you notice the wire frame glasses hanging from the collar of his shirt. Oh no, please not him. Anybody but him. 

“You’re Jeon Jungkook?” You ask incredulously not believing that he’s right here in front of you. You thought the guy who drew the skulls and small plants would be a shy emo nerd not an arrogant asshole. 

“So she speaks.” He says, reaching forward to wrench the backpack out of your hands. “Why’d you steal my bag anyways, thief?” He spits the word out and you glare at him, fists clenching at your side. 

“I’m not a thief. I accidentally took it thinking it was mine!” You say indignantly, tired of having to retell this story so many times. You wish you would’ve just thrown it away. You would’ve if you had figured out the plantnapper’s identity sooner. 

“You thought it was yours for two days? Are you stupid?” He asks and you suck on your inner cheek in irritation. 

“No I was just trying to find you to return it personally, but now I wish I’d have just thrown it away or burned it.” 

“Wait a minute…does that mean you’re missing your bag?” His eyes twinkle in amusement and he looks much too pleased with the situation for your liking. You liked it better when he looked angry because at least you knew what was coming. 

“No.” You say, though you can hear the hesitance in your own voice at your blatant lie. 

“So you’re telling me that you don’t have a blue bag covered in pins and a bunch of pink bunny notebooks?” When he notices your eyes widen because you realize he took your bag as well, a smirk takes over his already obnoxious features. “You wanna lie to me again?” He teases, grinning as he once again watches you sigh in defeat. 

“Fine yes it’s mine okay? Can I have it back since you have yours?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, I quite like some of the things you’ve written in the margins of your notebooks. Can you explain to me more about the sock puppet show?” 

“That wasn’t me it was Jimin!” Another lie, you thought your little nephew might like it for when you babysit him, but he doesn’t need to know that. You refuse to give him any more blackmail material. 

“I’m sure.” He says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He asks and this time it’s your turn to grin. 

“Do you want an honest answer?” 

“What do you know, thief.” He scoffs and you scoff in return. Who knew someone could be so irritating? 

“You’re the one who stole- and still has- my backpack!” You yell at him, enjoying in the way he pokes his tongue into his cheek in irritation. 

“Because you stole mine first!” He whines, petulantly stomping his foot. You don’t suppress the urge to laugh to which he frowns. “Fine you want the bag? Then go get it.” Angrily he reaches into his pocket only to come up empty before banging his head on the front door rather harshly. The thud carries down the hall. 

“That was pretty loud. Is it really that empty up there?” You reach up to knock your fist against his skull just to be annoying but he swats your hand away. 

“I don’t have a key.” He sighs, before beating on the door so hard that it rattles yours as well. “Seokjin!” He yells and you take a step back from him just in case any of your neighbors poke their head out to see what the commotion is about. You don’t want to be associated with him. “Jin open the fucking door!” He yells again, his voice wavering as embarrassment takes hold. His neck and ears begin to turn red, the blush spreading to his cheeks as he pounds against the door almost desperately. If he wasn’t such a nuisance and your sworn enemy you’d probably find it endearing. 

“You don’t have a key to your own apartment?” You tease, leaning against your own front door as you soak in his misery. It’s about time he do something stupid in front of you. Victory tastes so sweet. 

“Shut up.” He snaps, jiggling the door handle like it’ll magically unlock itself. You’re actually starting to feel bad as you watch him wither inside, fully succumbing to the embarrassment of it all. 

“Hey it’s okay, maybe he’s not home.” You say softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from knocking again. His knuckles are red from the harsh pounding and when he turns to you with eyes somewhat watery and a giant pout on his lips your heart cracks a little. You begin to even regret being so mean to him until the door opens and he returns back to normal. 

“Finally!” He yells ignoring Seokjin’s annoyed face as he scurries towards the back of his apartment where you assume his room is. 

“This kid, moving in here without notice and then rudely waking me up from a nap.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, moving to stand aside as Jungkook’s footsteps get louder as he trudges back towards you. 

“Here’s your bag thief. Hope I never see you again!” Throwing your backpack at you he slams the door in your face leaving you to stare at it blankly. Just when you think someone isn’t half bad they have to prove you wrong. Scoffing you turn around and head back into your own apartment, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes on you watching through the peephole. 

When Jimin arrives home you’re still brewing in agitation from your encounter with your ever so pleasant neighbor- note the sarcasm. “So I’m guessing giving the backpack back didn’t go well?” Jimin asks, flopping beside you on the couch. Kimchi immediately jumps up after him, content to lay on his lap while purring loudly. You’re a little envious that he comes back home to something happy to see him, a loneliness you didn’t know you felt creeping up on you as you now know what it’s like to come home to something. There’s only so much comfort your plants can provide. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- Taehyung pops in your mind and you instantly smile, only to scowl when the buck-toothed loser takes his place- perhaps you should just get a pet instead. 

“Let’s just say I never want to see Jeon Jungkook again.” You huff, crossing your arms as his stupid smirk appears in your head. You should’ve slapped it off him. He’s lucky you’re not a violent person otherwise you would’ve. 

“Would food cheer you up?” Jimin asks, eyeing you with a smile because he already knows the answer. 

“Is it free?” 

“Always.” Jimin laughs, taking his phone out of his pocket- careful not to disturb Kimchi too much- before dialing a number you know too well. Your local pizza restaurant is famous on campus, fancy enough that people don’t feel like they’re just eating grease like dominoes but also cheap enough that it doesn’t feel like they’re breaking the bank on literal pizza. It’s college, if people are gonna waste their money it’s for sure going to be on alcohol. 

“Hi I’d like to place an order.” Jimin says, giggling when he recognizes the voice of whoever is on the receiving end. “I’m glad you answered, I missed your voice. Maybe you could deliver the pizza too so we can spend a little time together. You haven’t taken your break yet have you?” You stare at him quizzically until you realize just what the little snake is doing. You hope to never be on the receiving end of Jimin’s flirtatious advances, especially knowing that he flirts with anybody to get what he wants. “Oh how disappointing I wanted to see you.” He sighs, going so far as to pout even though they can’t see him. “Maybe you can make it up to me somehow?” He asks sickly sweet and you only stare in awe as he flashes you a brilliant smile. The rat just got a free pizza, you know it. Hanging up the phone Jimin waggles his eyebrows at you, cackling evilly like he’s some kind of witch or something. 

“You didn’t think I’d pay for you did you? I don’t even pay for myself.” He snorts- yes snorts- entirely too pleased with himself for your liking. 

“I can’t wait till this catches up to you.” 

“Then stop benefitting from it.” Jimin shrugs and you whine at him in response. 

“But the perks are so nice. Ahh I feel like a bad person but at the same time I’m not the scammer.” 

“I am not a scammer. I’m just taking advantage of my pretty privilege.” Jimin says and you only further your pout. 

“Why don’t I get pretty privilege?” 

“You just don’t have the face for it.” He says bluntly, screeching when you smack his chest. 

“Park Jimin take it back!” You continue your assault on his chest until he grabs your hands in his own, using his strength to hold them away from his body. 

“I just mean you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit.” He huffs, watching your reaction skeptically to see if you’ll try and lunge for him again. 

“I can flirt. And besides I’m not mean, I’m an angel.” You say, taking your hands away to place them in your lap. You focus instead on Kimchi who is so unbothered by this whole ordeal that she’s fallen asleep. 

“Yeah okay.” Jimin laughs, the kinda half snort-half huff type. “And if you’re not mean why did Seokjin text me about you yelling at someone in the hallway.” 

“It’s not just someone, it was Jeon Jungkook. My rival, my arch-nemesis, my most hated person. He deserved it anyways, he called me a thief! Can you believe it?” You exclaim, irked by just the thought of your previous argument. It’s been so long since someone has surpassed your indifference and gotten so under your skin that just the thought of them makes you want to punch something. You think the last time you felt like this was in eighth grade and it’s as infuriating as you remember. You hate him. 

“I mean you did steal his bag.” Jimin says and you turn so fast he actually jumps. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It was an accident!” Jimin falls silent after that, finally realizing that he’s treading on thin ice. He didn’t realize that this Jeon Jungkook was such a sore spot for you, all he wanted was to tease you a little. The two of you continue to sit in silence, the only sound being Kimchi’s soft purrs and the occasional rumble from the old air conditioning system. 

You want to say something, you know Jimin didn’t mean to make you so upset but you’re not goof at explaining your feelings. Or expressing emotions. You should probably try a little harder because glancing at Jimin through the corner of your eye you can see how glossy his eyes have become. “Jiminie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You murmur, half ashamed and half uncomfortable with being vulnerable. It’s stupid, he’s your best friend and he’s seen you cry before but it never gets any easier. “Please don’t cry because of me. It-it hurts to see you cry.”

Jimin sniffles and you almost start crying on your own, distraught at the fact you made him cry. Despite his snarky remarks you know Jimin is quite sensitive and you’re so stupid for forgetting about that. “That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“That makes me sound like a bad person. You know I love you, I just don’t say it a lot.” You chuckle, somewhat in an attempt to lighten the mood. It’s gotten much too depressing for your liking. Hastily wiping his cheeks he smiles brightly at you and your chest doesn’t hurt as much when you realize that he’s okay. 

“I love you too kitkat.” He says, opening his mouth to say something else before the doorbell cuts him off. 

“Pizza!” You cheer, jumping up and heading to the door quickly. The tension in your shoulders dissipating as you distract yourself. They rise up again when you realize just who is on the other side. “No.” You say, frowning as you’re reacquainted with his face.

“Yes.” He grins, the type that could give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “Now that’s $19.50.” 

“The pizza was free.”  

“I saw that but since it’s you…$19.50” He says and you scowl. 

“I’m not paying for a free pizza. Besides you’re overcharging, can you even do math?” 

“I’m charging for every second I have to speak to you.” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting paid then since I didn’t chose to come to you, you came to me?” 

“That makes no sense, my job is literally to deliver pizzas.” He says, shaking the box with your pizza like his red vest and the grease smeared across his cheek is not indicative of his job. 

“Yeah and you’re doing a really bad job at it. So if you don’t mind,” Swiping the box out of his hand you hold it close to you before giving him a parting smile. “Goodbye.” Slamming the door in his face as he had done to you earlier, you lock it just before he can grab your handle. 

“What about my tip?” He yells, banging his fist against the door. You only grin, fully indulging in the anger that seeps through his tone. Something about pissing him off gives you so much joy. Does that make you a sadist or something?

“Here’s a tip, stop bothering me!” 

“That’s not even a tip, that’s a statement idiot!” 

“Whatever you Bambi-looking headass!” You yell back, moving away from the door and presenting the pizza to Jimin like it’s a glorious prize. Jungkook is still banging on the door and do spite him further you have alexa play a song on full blast. It’s painful for your own ears but after letting it play for a minute, you turn it off completely only to rejoice in the fact that you can’t hear your nemesis outside the door anymore. 

“I have so much I want to say but I’ll refrain for now.” Jimin says and you don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It’s almost like he knows something.

“Good idea. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Two days later and you’re once again in your nearby market because Kimchi has now decided that her food is no longer good enough to eat. So to avoid your niece starving- as much as you love Jimin you refuse to co-pet-parent with him- you have to return to the store to buy her more food. You make a mental note to get a dog instead of a cat if you do decide to get a pet solely because they’re not picky about what they eat. Plus they’re rather loud with their affection which you appreciate. You can’t say you’re too mad about having to return to this store so soon though because you might get the chance to see Taehyung again. You’ve been hoping that he’d reach out to you at some point but you’re beginning to think he was serious about letting fate have you cross paths again. What if fate screws you over and you never see him again? 

You almost jump in joy when you spot the back of his head- should you be concerned that you already know what the back of it looks like- unable to suppress the small squeak sound that leaves you. Why are you so embarrassing? You give him an awkward smile when he turns around, nerves calmed by the fact that he grins brightly back at you. “So we meet again.” He says and you’re pretty sure your pupils have taken the shape of hearts from how you look at him. 

“Yeah.” You breathe out like you’re in a lovesick trance- yikes your hopeless romanticism is showing. 

“Did you come just to see me?” He teases and you actually choke on your spit because embarrassingly yes, you partially came for him. He only chuckles at your reaction, placing a large palm between your shoulder blades to rub soothing circles while you cough your lung out. You understand now why you don’t experience pretty privilege; how can anyone find such a mess attractive?

“I came to get more cat food.” You croak out, throat sore and scratchy. 

“Didn’t you just buy some a few days ago?” He asks, head cocked to the side entirely too cutely as his brows draw together in confusion. You’re pretty sure you’re swooning and you look away before he can catch you. 

“Yeah but she decided it wasn’t good enough so here I am.” You laugh awkwardly. You wish the conversation flowed easier and you weren’t stuck only talking to him about either you stalking people or cat food. 

The air around you turns stale as silence settles between you and you twitch nervously. The silence is unbearable and you wish to fill it. “Will you help me?” You ask, once again falling into the trap of cat food as a topic. 

“Sure.” He gives you an easy smile, motioning for you to follow him to the specific aisle. Maybe you should just break out of this cycle by asking him out. Surely you’ll think of something to talk about besides cat food or stalking if you’re away from the places you associate them with. 

“Do you want to get coffee or something sometime?” You ask him, your words blurring together into a messy sentence as the words tumble too quickly out of your mouth. It takes him a minute to piece together what you asked and in that minute you regret your decision even more. Surely he’ll say no. 

“I’d love to.” He giggles, his boxy smile so wide his eyes scrunch a little as his cheeks push against them. Your eyes widen in surprise as you’d been preparing yourself for what you thought to be an inevitable ‘no’ and that only makes Taehyung smile wider-if possible. “You’re so cute.” He coos, tapping a finger against the tip of your nose as you continue to stare at him dumbfounded. Maybe you should have a little more faith in yourself if someone like Taehyung said yes to you. 

“Thanks.” You murmur, cursing yourself internally for being so shy. How has this man reduced you to a bashful mess with a single compliment? You’re sure if you looked in the mirror you probably wouldn’t even recognize yourself. Y/n without a witty remark? Unheard of. Maybe this is the change you need though, maybe this you is better?

“if you want to wait around for five minutes my shift ends and then we can go?” Taehung asks and you just nod, your brain trying to process the fact that you’ll be going on a date in five minutes with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. Looking down at yourself you freeze realizing you’re about to go on a date in sweatpants and one of Jimin’s old hoodies from high school. You look like you just rolled out of bed. 

Five minutes isn’t even enough time to get to your apartment though and you sigh, resigning yourself to looking frumpy. Grabbing whatever cat food is nearest- what kind of food Kimchi would like is the last thing on your mind-  you busy yourself at the register, chatting with a guy named Soobin. He winks at you when Taehyung rounds the corner to get you, his apron gone and revealing his Celine t-shirt. “You ready to go?” He asks, coming up beside you. Nodding in response, he places a hand on the small of your back before gently pushing you forward and you fiddle with the rings on your fingers to distract yourself from the heat crawling up the back of your neck and across your cheeks. 

You instantly recognize the cafe he takes you to and smile to yourself, already anticipating seeing a familiar tuft of icy blonde hair- another one of your hair dye experiences. Taehyung- ever the gentleman- opens the door for you and you give him a soft smile in thanks. When you look back to the counter Yoongi is giving you a quizzical look and you shake your head slightly as a signal not to ask. That doesn’t deter him from scanning you and Taehyung, his eyes lingering on the way Taehyung’s arm wraps around your waist. You don’t remember him doing that. “Yoongi!” Taehyung yells and you turn to him in surprise. He knows Yoongi? Yoongi has always kept a pretty tight circle so you can’t help but be baffled by this newly discovered friendship. You’ve never heard him mention someone named Taehyung before. 

“Ahh hi Taehyung.” Yoongi smiles, this time shaking his head at you slightly. You guess it’s only fair since you told him not to ask as well no matter how much you itch to question him. You’ve always been nosey, it’s something you and Jimin bonded over. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi continues, looking to you briefly to see if you register the bone he threw you. Ahh they must be old friends that lost touch. 

“Yeah I haven’t seen you since winter break in Daegu. You always ghosted me when I asked to hang out.” Taehyung pouts. 

“I told you I’ve been busy. I’ve had a lot going on, my roommate is always getting into trouble. Speaking of which, how is he?” Yoongi turns his full attention to you and you give him a pitiful smile as you can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s no secret Yoongi has always had a soft spot for Jimin and their fight must’ve been really hard on him too. You hope he had someone to lean on the way Jimin did you. 

“He’s reached acceptance. I think he’s finally trying to actually get over her. He’s been staying with me this whole time. You can stop by later if you want?” You offer, completely unaware of the way Taehyung’s eyes flicker between you and Yoongi to try and discern your relationship. He’s never heard about you either. Min Yoongi sure has a lot of secrets. 

“I’ll let him come to me. He might think I’m ambushing him or something if I come over.” Yoongi shrugs albeit sadly. Your heart aches at seeing him so dejected and you place your hand over his own. 

“He wants to apologize, he did the first night. He’s just working up the courage.” It’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment but you hope it’s enough to make him feel even a little better. “I don’t think he’ll take much longer, he’s probably getting sick of me.” You laugh, grinning when you see Yoongi crack a tiny smile. 

“Sounds good. Now head to the pick up counter, I punched in your drinks a while ago. It’s not like either of you get anything different anyways.” 

“Thanks Yoon! I’ll buy you lamb skewers next time we hang out.” You tell him, leaving the register with Taehyung trailing you. 

“So how do you two know each other?” Taehyung asks, sipping on his strawberry smoothie. 

“We met when I made the mistake of taking philosophy at nine a.m. a couple semesters ago. We really bonded while suffering together and then he became roommates with my best friend and we formed an unbreakable trio.” You take a rather large sip of your caramel macchiato, needing a drink after speaking probably the longest sentence you ever have to Taehyung. Progress- sad progress because you’ve never had this problem before but progress nonetheless. “How do you know Yoongi?” 

“We grew up together in Daegu. Next door neighbors and everything.” Taehyung smiles like he’s reminiscing in things you don’t know about but one day you hope to hear more if for nothing but to hear his voice- although some embarrassing childhood memories to blackmail Yoongi with would be nice.

“Yoongi’s emo phase must’ve been an experience.” You snort only to freeze when you realize you just made probably the most unattractive noise in existence. You’re pretty sure you hear Yoongi cackle at your embarrassment. 

“He actually didn’t have one.” Taehyung whispers almost like it’s a secret and you can’t help the gasp that leads your lips. 

“What?” You exclaim, placing a hand over your mouth. Your whole friendship has been a lie! “But he’s so angsty!” 

“That’s because he bottles up his feelings.” Taehyung says and you remember another reason you and Yoongi got so close. You’re practically the same person when it comes to feelings and expressing them- in fact it’s one of the reasons you can read each other so well. “I just wish he’d reveal his soft side more often.” 

“That’s why he’s my favorite tsundere.” You giggle, winking at Yoongi when you catch him glaring at you from behind the counter. You could tell he was listening in on you and Taehyung’s conversation- he was wiping the same spot on the pickup counter for two minutes-  and you know he hates nothing more than being compared to a tsundere. Though you theorize it’s only because it’ll out him as a weeb. Not that his one piece set displayed in the living room of the apartment gives it away or anything. ‘I hate you’ he mouths when you look in his direction again and you only laugh, giving him a finger heart to placate him before turning back to your date. 

Taehyung is just smiling at you, his gaze flicking to the window to try and hide the fact he was admiring you. It was nice to see that he was the one getting bashful for once as you watch roses cluster along his cheeks. He really is so cute. “You’re cute.” You tell him, happy at the way his eyes widen at your sudden boldness. It’s only brief however as he gives you a flirty smirk in return. 

“Just cute?” He asks, leaning forward to look you dead in the eyes, enjoying the way you struggle to maintain eye contact. 

“Yes.” You whisper with a final flicker of confidence, immediately regretting your poor attempt to tease him as he leans in further, his face a few inches from your own. 

“Let’s change that, yeah?” Your breath hitches at him being so close, close enough that you find yourself looking at the small mole under his eye and following it down to the mole on his nose before finally landing on the one on his lower lip. Your eyes linger on his lips, which look much to kissable for you to turn your attention away from. They’re soft and pink, moistened by his tongue that slips out to brush across his bottom lip, dragging your attention back up to his eyes that flicker from your gaze to your own lips. You pinch your bottom one between your teeth as the tension brews between you two. Taehyung reaches a hand out to fall gently on your cheek, releasing your bottom lip from its hold with his thumb. Once it’s free he wastes no time to press his lips to your own and you sigh into him. You could get used to this. 

Nothing can ruin your mood, not even a certain bambi, as you skip up the two flights of stairs to your apartment building. With slightly mussed hair and kiss swollen lips, you’re entirely too giddy for your own good. You’re in the midst of digging around in your bag for your keys when you feel something wet against your leg. Instantly you scream, jumping away from whatever just touched you and relaxing only when you notice it’s a little black Puggle. “Oh hello.” You giggle, bending down to pet the puppy. It wriggles in excitement, jumping out of your outstretched arms almost like a fish out of water. Finally managing to wrangle it into your lap you check for a collar only to find none. Shrugging, you take the puppy into your apartment, resolving to notify the office about the lost dog so they can alert the other residents and hopefully its owner. In the meanwhile though, you have a puppy to play with! An annoyed meow sounds from the couch and you cringe when Kimchi glares at you. 

“Sorry Kim, this is only temporary.” You try and console her, attention diverted when the puppy barks at you. “Hi sweetheart.” You coo, rubbing her belly as she happily melts into you. “Your owner should really invest in a collar.” You sigh, hoping that whoever they are will realize they’re missing a pet soon. As cute as you think this little puppy is you’re not equipped to care for it. 

You must play with the dog for twenty minutes before it knocks out, snoring lightly on your furry rug. Kimchi watches curiously from the couch and you can’t tell whether she wants to befriend or attack it. Your door frame rattles and you sigh, leaning your head against the couch cushion as your neighbor wakes up the sleeping puppy, “Lucy!” You hear someone yell, a slew of curses following as they run around the hall. Their footsteps are heavy enough that it startles the puppy, causing it to run to the door and bark incessantly. 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” You try and soothe, pausing as the footsteps halt suddenly followed by a frantic pounding on your door. Kimchi- fully alarmed- runs into your bedroom for cover as you stare at your shaking front door, the puppy in your arms. After taking a deep breath you calm your nerves, pulling the door open only to get punched in the face. “What the hell?” You yell, almost dropping the dog as you raise a hand to your now bruised nose. 

“I’m so sorry!” A voice, you now realize is Namjoon’s, says frantically. “I was just about to knock on the door again and I was already in motion. I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” 

You close your eyes and inhale- for both a piece of sanity because this is the most Namjoon thing you’ve ever witnessed and also because your nose hurts so bad you could cry- and slowly open your eyes to look at the assailer. “Hi Joonie.” Is the only thing you can say. Your day only gets worse as an annoyingly familiar figure rounds the corner. How can such a beautiful day turn into a nightmare? If you didn’t know any better you’d think you were the oc for someone’s story. 

“Why do you have my dog?” He yells in an odd mixture of confusion and irritation. 

“This is your dog?” You ask, ignoring the way your nose is throbbing. 

“If it wasn’t, would I refer to it as my dog?” Jungkook asks, his tone nothing short of condescending as he knocks against your forehead, knuckles barely brushing against the bridge of your nose but causing you to wince all the same. Jungkook pauses for a second, his hand hovering above your face as an expression you could almost discern as concern crosses his features. It’s gone in a moment, almost like a blip, before being replaced with smugness. “Did you run into a door or something? This is what you get for being a thief.” He snickers, moving to take the puppy out of your hand before you shield it away from him with your body. 

“Namjoon punched me in the face. Also your dog ran away and came to me, I didn’t steal it. And I’m not a thief, I’ve told you a thousand times it was an accident!” 

“He what?” Jungkook yells, spinning on his heels to face Namjoon in anger. His hands clench at his sides causing the veins running down his forearms to pop, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. He’s glaring at the taller boy, his body almost teeming with rage. Such a shame someone so pretty has such an awful personality. 

“He ran away. You should try being a better owner so he doesn’t flee at first chance. Also have you ever heard of a collar? It’s a great way to let other people identify your dog.” You scold, scratching the dog’s head as you do so. 

“That’s not-whatever. Besides she’s a girl; her name is Lucy. And I did get her a collar it’s just a little too big right now but she’s not even supposed to really go outside before she gets all her shots.” Jungkook says, this time reaching forward too quick for you to avoid, snatching Lucy out of your hands before you can even think to counter his attack. 

“My baby!” You cry, strangely attached to the little creature even though you’ve barely spent half an hour with her. 

“I’m right here.” Jungkook winks, cackling as you proceed to gag. 

“Tell me, does your neck ever hurt from your head being shoved so far up your own ass?” He cackles again and you’re sure if you were a cartoon you’d have smoke coming out of your ears. You’ll probably have to go to the doctor after this with the way he’s raising your blood pressure. You’ve never met someone so infuriating. 

“Does your ass ever hurt from the stick that’s up it?” Jungkook retorts and you scowl.

“At least my pet didn’t run away from me.” 

“She didn’t! I wasn’t even home when Namjoon lost her.”

“You’re saying you lost her but all I’m hearing is she ran away.” 

“Whatever thief. What do you know?” He scoffs and you scoff in return. 

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Bambi.”

“I’m just gonna go.” Namjoon says clearly uncomfortable with the tension surrounding you and Jungkook. You almost feel a little bad before you remember he literally punched you in the face. “I can’t believe you made Namjoon so uncomfortable he had to leave.” 

“Me? You’re the one who started it.” Jungkook scoffs. 

“I did not! You accused me of stealing your dog!” 

“Because you’re a thief! How many times do I have to tell you!” 

“Whatever Bambi, what do you know?” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Call me bambi one more time.” He growls and you smirk. 

“But I think bambi really suits you. You have bambi eyes and everything.” You grin at the way he grits his teeth, taking a step forward to lessen the gap that stands between the two of you. He’s probably less than a foot away at this point and you notice he has a mole below his bottom lip. 

“Shut up.” He says, his usually light voice taking on a deep and gravelly tone. Your mind buffers for a moment at the sound and you momentarily forget where you are. It’s like he hypnotized your or something. 

“Make me.” You press, your breath hitching as you watch something flicker in his eyes too fast for you to catch. Lucy barking breaks the two of you out of your standoff and you both turn to watch as she proceeds to pee all over Jungkook’s arm. You can’t help but giggle as he grimaces in disgust. “Serves you right.” You sing, reaching over to give Lucy a scratch on the head. 

“Whatever. At least I don’t do an ugly middle part every day.” He scoffs and you shrug. 

“At least I don’t smell like dog piss.” With the final word secured you close the door, only to reopen it for a second. “Don’t forget to clean the carpet!” 

When Jimin returns with a guilty smile and a box of taco bell you immediately grow suspicious, though you can already guess what he’s about to say. Jimin doesn’t have any hookups at taco bell so he even paid for once which means he must be moving out but doesn’t want to you to be sad. It’s a little too late for that as you immediately deflate, the loneliness you didn’t know you felt before Jimin moved in returning. “You and Yoongi made up?” You ask though it’s really just confirmation. 

“Yeah we did. I told him I’d come back later today.” Jimin’s voice drips in misplaced guilt, for he really has no reason to feel bad for moving back home. You knew this would only be temporary. 

“I’m so happy for you!” You say, making sure to raise your voice to convey a happier tone. You really are glad they worked it out but you’ll miss him. Looking around your apartment the plants seem a little less homey than normal. Maybe you should invest in a pet for real. Lucy from next door pops into your head and you smile. “I made a new friend next door so I won’t be lonely without you.” 

Jimin gasps over-dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like you just stabbed him. “You’ve replaced me with Jeon Jungkook??” He asks and your eyes widen at the insinuation. Like you’d replace Jimin with anyone, especially Jeon Jungkook. 

“Eww gross, like I’d even think of befriending him.’ You scoff. 

“You’re like a little kid thinking their crush has cooties.” Jimin snickers and you glare at him. 

“He’ll infect me with his stupidity! He’s a clown Jimin, he literally got peed on by his own dog earlier!” You exclaim and Jimin only laughs. 

He hums for a minute before turning to you with a sly smirk. “You talk about him a lot you know? Got love on the brain?” Jimin teases, cackling at his own joke only to choke when you angrily shove a soft taco into his mouth. You grin at him wickedly when he turns to you, ignoring the way he returns his own glare. 

“More like hate on the brain.” You say, taking a bite of your own taco before turning on the tv. 

“There’s a fine line between love and hate you know? Also if I go into the bathroom and find a grease stain on my shirt I’m going to kill you.” Jimin goes so far as to flick your head with his warning, probably a small punishment for stuffing his face. In your defense it was the only way to get him to stop talking nonsense. 

“You can’t even strangle me with those baby hands.” You quip, giggling when Jimin flips you off. 

“I can’t believe I’ve lived with you for this long without going insane.” He huffs, feeding Kimchi-who has been beckoned by the smell of food- a piece of cheese. She grinds her teeth happily after swallowing it whole, sticking her head into the wrapper to try and find more morsels. 

“That’s because you loveee me.” You sing, sending Jimin a heart and a flying kiss. As much as he detests it, he’s a sucker for large displays of affection. His cheeks turn a soft cherry pink as he shoves your shoulder a little too hard, making you topple over from your spot on the floor. The taco comes flying out of your hand, the remnants scattering as Jimin struggles to capture Kimchi before she can feast on the fallen taco. You sigh at the inevitable stain you’ll have to clean from all the grease but turning to the chaos that’s behind you- Kimchi is half wrapped around Jimin’s neck like a boa constrictor as he holds her to him to prevent her escape- you can’t help but miss it already. 

Returning from your trip to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment-somehow he collected more stuff than he brought with him in his short stay at your apartment and needed help carrying everything back- you run into Taehyung. “Tae?” You ask and he gives you the same expression. 

“Y/n? You live here?” He asks equally as surprised and confused to see you. It’s a similar feeling to when you see a teacher out in public. 

“Yeah. Do you?” 

“No I was just visiting some friends of mine.” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels as the two of you stare at each other. “Hey did you know your nose is turning purple?” 

“Huh?” You ask until you piece together that you must be beginning to bruise. Thank you Kim Namjoon. “Oh yeah I just got hit in the face.” You laugh, consciously covering your nose with your hand. 

“You should ice it. Have you done that already?” Taehyung steps forward, placing a hand on your wrist to gently pry your hand away from the offending object (ie. your nose). 

“No.” You sigh because really that should’ve been the first thing you did but instead you wasted time arguing with Jeon Jungkook. Your nose is probably going to be super swollen and purple by tomorrow. 

“Let’s get some ice for it, yeah? You should really take better care of yourself.” He laughs, taking your hand and leading you towards the elevators. You don’t know if a bruised nose needs two people’s attention but it’ll be nice to come home to something other than silence. “What floor?” 

“Two, but we can just take the stairs.” You tell him, changing his direction to the stairwell on the opposite side of the building. He follows you quietly to your apartment, looking around the walls like he’s trying to find something specific. 

“I’ve never come this way before. My friends always take the elevator.” He says, pausing beside you when you reach your door. 

“Two flights of stairs isn’t too bad for me. Plus elevators make me nervous, there’s something about plummeting to your death in a tiny box that freaks me out.” You shrug, letting him inside before closing the door behind you. 

“It’s like a whole garden in here!” Taehyung exclaims, spinning in a circle to take in the various potted and hanging plants that lie around your living room. You twist your rings as you watch him take it all in, worried he might find your plant obsession excessive or weird. You just really like the look of it and it’s nice to take care of something. 

“Yeah, I might’ve got a little too carried away at the plant nursery.” You laugh, watching as Taehyung brushes his fingers along random leaves. 

“I tried to take care of a plant once and I couldn’t even get it to sprout.” When he turns to you his eyes are filled with awe and you ease up a little bit. 

“It takes a lot of work but it’s pretty calming for me. It’s nice to have something that relies on you to take care of it.” 

“I get the feeling. That’s why I have Tannie. You wanna see him?” Taehyung asks excitedly, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. Nodding, you take the phone from him and observe the tiny dog practicing tricks in the video. It’s a mainly black Pomeranian, brown tufts of fur on its belly and legs with two angry brown eye brows that make you laugh. 

“He takes after you with the strong brows.” You say making Taehyung laugh. 

“You know what they say, dogs always look like their owners.” Your mind drifts to the black Puggle next door and it’s fake wire-framed glasses wearing owner. You guess they both have a rather cute boopable nose. “Now about your nose…” Taehyung says, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“Right!” Taking ice out of the freezer you place it into a tiny ziplock while Taehyung grabs the kitchen towel hanging off the oven handle to wrap it with. 

“So you need to do twenty minutes on and twenty off. I could keep you company if you want?” You nod your head quickly at his offer, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable. 

“Do you want anything to drink or eat? I have popcorn and other snacks.” 

“How about we eat popcorn and watch a movie?” He suggests. 

“Great idea.” You’re about to grab the box of popcorn from one of the top shelves of the pantry when Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder stops you. 

“Let me do it. Don’t want you to hurt yourself any further.” He teases, ushering you out of your own kitchen. Walking back to the couch you watch him as he fumbles around your kitchen to find the bowls, giggling as he opens the same cupboard three times. You’re about to tell him its location when he finally finds it, cheering as if he’s won some kind of prize. With the popcorn made and your fridge raided for drinks he rejoins you at the couch while you pull up netflix. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

“How about a nature documentary?” He suggests and you just smile and nod despite the fact that you’re going to be fighting the urge to fall asleep for the next two hours. Oh what you’ll do for a pretty boy. 

After spending one day alone in your apartment after classes you decide you no longer enjoy having nothing to come home to. You’re not quite sure how you used to do this just fine because now the silence is almost unbearable. You could go over to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment but all your stuff is here and you can’t exactly just invite yourself over. Well judging by how many times Jimin has done that to you you probably could but it just feels weird. You also don’t think you can sit through another nature documentary with Taehyung despite how much you like him. You could barely stay awake last time, the twenty minute alarms the only thing keeping you from drifting off. Plus you had to watch not only animals kill and eat each other- while a necessary part of the circle of life, you don’t particularly enjoy watching life leave something. And most disturbingly, there was a whole segment on spiders and you hate spiders. Which leaves you with only one option: Lucy. 

On your way home from your last lecture you go to the nearest pet store, picking out a little pink collar with cherries decorating it and a pink leash. Maybe you’ve gone a little overboard with the pink aesthetic- you may have been eyeing a pink onesie because you’ve always wanted an animal that lets you dress it- but the idea of e-boy Jungkook walking around his pink accessorized puppy makes you laugh. You bet the collar he bought her has spikes or skulls. With the presents in hand, you stop at Jungkook’s door knocking in a small tune. 

The door opens and instead of Jungkook you’re met with Seokjin. “Oh hi, is Jungkook home?” You ask hesitantly. “I uhh brought stuff for Lucy.” You bring the bag in front of you to show him like it’ll validate why you’re here. You can’t have people thinking you came just for him. 

“He just went out to meet the postmate guy but he’ll be back in a few minutes if you want to wait for him inside?” Seokjin steps aside to let you enter, ushering you onto the couch before getting you water. 

“I heard Jimin and Yoongi finally made up.” Seokjin comments and you nod somewhat sadly. 

“Yeah he moved out yesterday.” 

“Being alone again must be a little lonely huh? Is that why you’re here? Not that I don’t mind you stopping by but it’s not like we’re very close or anything.” 

“I missed Lucy.” You tell him. “But yeah it has been a little lonely. If you don’t mind me asking how do you know Yoongi?” 

“We used to TA a biology class together. And I met Jimin when I was helping them move in but I don’t see him very often. He really only asks me to bring him food when he’s too lazy to cook.” Seokjin says. 

“Yeah he’ll do about anything for free food.” You laugh and Seokjin smiles. 

“It’s nice to know that you’re actually pretty sweet. I was worried you were just a hothead after listening to Jungkook whine about you incessantly.” Seokjin laughs and you look at him curiously. 

“Jungkook talks about me?” 

“All the time. Anyways, I’m always looking for new friends so I can learn more secrets so feel free to stop by whenever. I’m sure Kookie wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.” He winks and you’re entirely too confused to fake a gag. 

“But he hates me?” 

“That’s his charm. He has that whole ‘I want to fight you but also kiss you’ vibe. Or so I’ve heard anyways. I just get embarrassing child vibes from him personally but I’ve also seen him in a Pikachu onesie singing the pokemon theme song too many times at 2 a.m. to see him as any less.” Before you have time to even process what Seokjin has just told you the door opens and you immediately stand up startled, the bag of goodies for Lucy falling off your lap and spilling onto the floor. 

Jungkook pauses in the door way, his eyes the widest you’ve seen so far. The Wendy’s bag crunches as he clutches it tighter and the two of you stare at each other like you’re waiting for the other to make the first move. “I brought stuff for Lucy. To make sure she’s getting properly cared for.” You hurry feeling like you need an excuse to come over. Seokjin laughs under his breath from beside you. 

“First a thief then a trespasser. Am I going to have to report you?” Jungkook asks and you scowl, crossing your arms across your chest. Just who does he think he is? 

“Seokjin let me in.” You say stepping aside to reveal Jin who was watching the whole encounter unfold with a grin. His eyes glint with mischief when you turn to him and suddenly you’re afraid of his power. How many secrets does he know? Will he figure out yours? 

“I thought we agreed not to invite random people in?” Jungkook sighs, almost like he’s scolding Seokjin. You frown. You’re supposed to be enemies, does that not mean anything to him? 

“She’s not random. She’s my new best friend!” Seokjin yells directly into your ear making you wince before throwing an arm around your shoulder. You’re too busy looking at Seokjin confusedly to notice the way someone else’s eyes linger a little too long on the arm wrapped around you. 

“Whatever. Just don’t talk to me.” Jungkook grumbles stalking towards his room when you speak up. 

“But you’re the one talking to me?” You ask making him stop in his tracks and turn around to face you again. That’s when you notice the frosty in his hand that’s half melted and now running down the side of the cup and down his hand. “Did you postmate a frosty?” You ask, genuinely concerned with why he chose that when it’d be undoubtably half melted in the forty minutes it takes delivery. 

“Maybe.” He says skeptically and you give him your best ‘are you stupid?’ expression because you have eyes and it’s literally in his hand. 

“Did you not realize it would be melted by the time you got it?” You tease, a smirk pulling at your lips when he falters in coming up with a witty remark. 

“Shut up.” He groans, turning back around and opening his bedroom door. A flash of black rushes past him and straight towards you and you can only cheer in glee when Jungkook sighs in exasperation. “Betrayed by my own dog.” He whines to himself as he leans against the door frame to watch you play with Lucy. 

“Hi baby!” You coo, sitting down on the floor to hold her as she gives you as many kisses as possible. Giggling you fall back so you’re lying down, holding her up above you so it looks like she’s flying. Her little paws move rapidly as she attempts to get back to you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she whines. “Sorry, sorry.” You chuckle, placing her back down on your stomach. Jumping off you, the bag catches her attention and she busy’s herself by climbing inside of it. Her head pops up with the bag still attached and you can’t help but laugh as she raises up on her hind legs and uses her paws to try and take it off herself. Snapping a quick picture, your airdrop it to Jungkook and Seokjin before taking it off her head. 

“You wanna see the stuff I got you?” You ask, not sure what type of answer you were anticipating in response. You take her snort as a yes and show her the collar first. “You’re gonna look so cute in this. Plus I made sure it’s the right size.” You look pointedly at Jungkook who has moved from his position by the door to the kitchen counter where he snacks on his fries and commits the crime that is dipping them in his frosty. He looks away when he catches your gaze, face flushed a soft pink as he returns his attention to his phone. Bummed by his lack of response you focus on putting the tiny collar around her neck. The little cherry charm jingles as she shakes her head for a moment to adjust before she licks your hand in what you assume to be thanks. 

“Jin look! Isn’t she so cute?” You hold her up to your face while showing off the new collar to Jin who claps in delight. 

“I live for the pink aesthetic. She’s gonna be a doggy icon.” He cheers making you laugh. 

“Only the best for my little Lucy. What do you think bambi?” You ask, turning to Jungkook who makes an OJO face, his phone pointed in your direction. You wonder what he was doing but brush it off to just him being weird. He’s probably looking for more pokemon onesies or something.

“Not too bad thief, not bad at all.” 

When you return home to your apartment after visiting your neighbors turned new friends- excluding Jungkook who is teetering on the upgrade to frenemy because he actually wasn’t entirely awful- you feel light and airy. You’re almost as giddy as you were the day you came back from your date with Taehyung. Speaking of Taehyung you should probably text him or something, you haven’t really texted today. Though you’re feeling too lazy to text out an entirely conversations worth of words so you settle for calling him instead. 

“Hey Y/n.” He says, surprising you for picking up on the first ring. 

“Hey Tae. How was your day?”

“It was really good! I spent the whole day taking pictures of plants and stuff for my assignment. Your apartment really inspired me to capture the less sentient lives that intersect our own.” He says, voice so cheery you can practically see the smile you know he dawns. 

“That’s really cool, you’ll have to send them my way after you’re done with them.” You say, glad that you could be of some help. He did ask you to be his muse after all. 

“How’s your nose?” He asks and you pause when you realize you completely forgot about the bruise on your nose. In fact when you got ready this morning you didn’t even notice. Standing up from the couch you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror surprised to see it’s only a small purple mark. 

“There’s only a small bruise. I actually forgot I had it so I guess it’’s pretty good.” You laugh, opting to sit on the bathroom counter instead. 

“That’s good, I was worried about it. Hey I was going to visit my friend’s dance recital tomorrow if you want to come? He’s been telling me it’s really good.” 

“Sure thing. What time should I be ready by?” You ask mind already alternating between different possible outfits. You’ll need to look extra good while standing next to Taehyung while also looking casual enough that it’s not too much for a campus recital. You haven’t been to one since your ex’s last showcase a year ago. 

“How about seven? You can help me look for a nice bouquet to give him afterwards. Since you’re a plant expert and everything.” 

“I don’t know if I’d call myself an expert but sure. I’ll meet you outside my apartment?” You start to grow nervous as you realize you’ll need to come up with conversation starters so the conversation doesn’t lull. You wish you were better at talking to him. 

“See you then. Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Goodnight Tae.” Hanging up, you lean your head against the mirror and close your eyes, focusing on trying to lower your heart rate. You hope the more you spend time with Taehyung the easier it gets. 

You’re panicking. Mostly because it’s 6:30 pm and you’re still not dressed. You hate your entire closet, nothing is good enough to wear. Your clothes are strewn across your bedroom and you’re pretty sure you could cry. You’ve at least done your hair and makeup when you were still happy with your previous outfit but after looking at it one too many times you picked it apart. A knock on your door startles you and you pray to God that it’s not Taehyung who’s arrived early. You sigh in relief at the sight of Jungkook, your nerves easing as you focus on the bright pink leash he’s holding and the squirming puppy at your feet. 

“Hey thief we’re going to get something to eat on a walk and after you nearly burned down the kitchen this morning I thought I’d invite you. I don’t feel like smelling burnt eggs through the vent for the rest of the day.” He says nonchalantly like he can’t see your frazzled state. 

“Sorry bambi but I can’t. I have a date to get ready for and I can’t figure out what to wear.” You sigh, leaning down to give Lucy a few scratches after she barks at you for attention. 

“A date?” Jungkook asks, his voice cracking a little in surprise. He clears his throat as you snicker.

“Yeah. Hey do you think he’d hate me if I just showed up in this oversized tee like a VSCO girl because I think If I look at my closet one more time I’ll actually cry.” You half joke half genuinely ask because you’re so frustrated. 

“I mean nothing you wear can make you less ugly.” He offers and you glare at him. 

“Thanks. That’s really just what I needed. I don’t know why I even bothered to ask.”  You deadpan, moving to close the door on him when he shoves his foot between it and the frame to stop it. 

“I mean- you know that mini skirt you have? Tuck your shirt into that and wear some docs or something and you’ll look uhh reasonable. I uhh saw a girl wearing something similar earlier and it was cute.” He says, his words slurring a little in his panic to redeem himself and you crack the door open a little to look at him. 

“Thanks bambi, I’ll try it. I dig the pink leash by the way, really makes you look badass.” You giggle, closing the door to drown out his shout of protest. 

Turns out bambi does have somewhat of a fashion sense because after trying on his suggested outfit you don’t hate it which is enough for you at this point. Checking the time you realize you only have a few minutes left to make any finishing touches before you need to meet Taehyung downstairs. Checking your eyeliner wings one last time and spraying on perfume you hurry down the stairs and outside, tapping your foot anxiously as you wait for Taehyung. You hope you look okay. 

“You look great.” Taehyung’s deep voice says from behind you, his arms encircling your waist as you turn around to face him. You look away bashfully once again reminded what a shy, nervous mess he turns you into. 

“You do too.” You’re not just saying that to be polite, Taehyung truly does look good. Though when does he not? There’s something so effortlessly beautiful about him that you’re envious of. You wish someone would see you like that. 

“All set to go?” Taehyung asks before linking your arms when you say yes. You wind up back at the familiar market where you and Jungkook first met. You laugh a little to yourself when you notice the row of aloe vera plants lined up on the top shelf. To your right is the flower section for those last minute bouquets and you turn your focus to them and Taehyung instead. 

“I like this one.” You pick up a bouquet of sunflowers and show them to him. The flowers are a little on the smaller side since it’s just the beginning of their season but they’re still happy and bright. “I think it just looks really joyful. Plus everyone buys roses.” 

Taehyung laughs at that, putting down the bouquet of roses he had in his hand. You squeeze your eyes closed when you realize you’ve accidentally made fun of his flower choice. 

“He’ll like it. He’s always calling himself the sun anyways.” Taehyung shrugs, heading to the register with you tailing behind. You’ve only known one person who called themselves the sun but surely it’s not him. There’s seven billion people in the world, surely it can’t be that small. 

Disregarding the hunch of who the flowers you picked out are for, you trot behind Taehyung and lace your hand with his own. He gives you a bright smile in return and a little squeeze, probably excited that he’s not the one initiating PDA for once. 

After paying he leads the way towards the campus event center which isn’t much farther of a walk. The closer you get the more you remember and it’s not that you and your ex didn’t end on a good note it’s more so just that you didn’t anticipate seeing him, much less going to his recital and picking out flowers for him. But you’re probably just jumping to conclusions. 

Getting settled into your seats, front and center, you relax a little. Taehyung’s hand is still in your own and to try and settle your nerves you focus on him- which you probably should be doing anyways since this is a date but your mind has never been good at sticking to one topic. “So how’d you get such great seats?” You ask before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for bringing me by the way.” 

“Of course. Oh, my friend is captain of the dance team and is a senior so he gets the best spots in the house. I only have to buy him food for the rest of the week as payment. I didn’t feel like waiting in line and getting a crappy spot.” 

“Understandable. But if you’re buying food anyways feel free to send some my way.” You wink and Taehyung sighs. 

“Once again I’m getting used for free stuff.” He cries dramatically and you giggle. “But since you’re my muse I guess it’s okay.” He says suddenly serious, taking your surprise to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Taehyung!” You scold, lightly slapping his chest. "You can’t just catch me off guard like that.” 

“Sure I can. You’re cute when you get embarrassed.” That only causes your embarrassment to heighten and he grins, placing another kiss against your lips. 

“You suck.” You pout despite not really meaning it. 

The lights dim and you both quiet down, turning away from each other to look up at the stage. It’s a lyrical piece first to a song you’ve never heard before but it’s pretty. As the lone harp melody plays a figure emerges from the darkness into the center spotlight only to be joined by several other people as the beat hits. Their movements are fluid like water, their shadows casted elegantly against the back wall of the stage. When the performance ends you can’t help but applaud- though you really are supposed to wait until the end to avoid disrupting performances. “That was so cool!” You whisper to Taehyung who smiles brightly at you. 

“My friend choreographed it!” He whispers back, pride for his friend’s achievement seeping in his words. It’s cute. You both fall silent again as the other pieces are performed only resuming conversation once the show is in intermission.

“Your friend is really talented.” You tell Taehyung, unable to get the performance out of your head. It’s a shame it was the very first one as it’s outshined the rest for you. 

“You’ll have to tell him when we see him later. I heard they’re selling snacks out front, do you want any?” He asks. 

“I can get them if you want? Since you got the tickets and everything.” 

“Sure, I’l just wait for you here. If they have any sweets can you get me some?” He asks. 

“Sure thing. Be right back.” You smile, about to get up when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Hurry back.” He winks and if it were anyone else you’d roll your eyes. 

You huff in annoyance at the rather long line, texting Taehyung that it might be awhile before opening up a piano game on your phone. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Yoongi’s voice startles you and you jump back. 

“Why do you not make noise when you move!” You ask. “This really supports the theory that you’re a vampire.” 

“If you compare me to Edward Cullen one more time I will kill you.” You quiet down at that, the image of Yoongi’s Katana hanging above his bed- another symbol of his weebiness- surfaces in your mind. You’d rather not get close and personal with it. 

“Noted. Anyways what’re you doing here?” 

“I get extra credit on one of my music assignments if I come. I don’t really see the point but hey that just means I can put in less effort later since I have a safeguard for my grade.” 

“It’s extra credit Yoongi not a free pass.” You snort, sighing when the line still hasn’t moved. 

“Why’re you here?” 

“I’m on a date.” You tell him before realizing your mistake. “Don’t tell Jimin, it’s not that serious yet and I-“ 

“Too late.” Yoongi says, pointing to Jimin coming your way. “Though Taehyung is not who I expected it to be with.” 

“How did you know it’s Taehyung?” You ask. 

“Know what’s Taehyung?” Jimin asks and you give Yoongi a pleading look. 

“Her date.” Yoongi says and you flip him off.

“You’re on a date and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin asks and when you turn to look at him you can’t tell whether he’s more annoyed or hurt. Either way you feel awful but Jimin has a tendency to get too attached to your boyfriends and when you and Hoseok broke up he was crushed. 

“We’ve only hung out a couple of times, it’s not that serious.” You try and console him but that only makes him even more upset. His nostrils flare and everything!

“A couple times! What happened to no secrets?” Jimin scolds and you feel even worse. 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get too attached if it doesn’t work out.” Like last time doesn’t need to be said for him to understand where you’re coming from and he sighs before running his hand through his hair. 

“Last time was on me but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know every aspect of your life.” 

“You know I can see why you and Jin get along so well. Do you share secrets?” You ask Jimin and when he falls silent Yoongi decides to re-enter the conversation. 

“Wait do you?” Yoongi asks. “If you told anyone about my One Piece set I’m going to kill you.” 

“Jimin I’d be careful, he threatened me with the Katana five minutes ago.” You warn and Jimin visibly pales. 

“I’ve only been talking to him about our ship. We just want our favorite emotionally stunted tsunderes to get together.” Jimin says causing you and Yoongi to turn to each other. 

“It’s about you.” You both say at the same time only to look offended at each other’s assumption. You’re both so offended that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the front of the line until the volunteer interrupts your bickering. 

“What can I get you?” Scanning the table you see peanut butter m&m’s- only the best kind. 

“Uhh one bag of regular m&m’s and one peanut butter please.” You say because you’ve never asked if Taehyung has a peanut allergy. That’s probably an important thing to know. 

“One pack of oreos.” Yoongi says behind you followed by Jimin yelling for sour patch kids. 

“That’ll be $10.50” She tells you and sighing- seeing as you’ve been roped into paying for those leaches you call best friends- you hand over the cash. 

“You’re welcome.” You sneer while they smile sweetly at you. 

“You’re the best Y/n! Oh and don’t think you’ve gotten out of me meeting Taehyung. Bring him to the apartment Friday night for game night!” 

“Do I have to?” 

“You bring him to us or we come to you, your choice.” Jimin shrugs. 

“Fine.” You sigh once again bested by the tiny man with the tiny hands. 

When you get back to Taehyung intermission is practically over meaning you only have enough time to get settled in and give him his snack before the lights once again dim and the show starts. You almost forget about the fact that your ex is probably who you got flowers for until he appears in the final set as the lead of a hip hop dance. His eyes widen for a split second when he sees you in his search for Taehyung but he hides it like the professional he is and carries on with his best performance yet. Hoseok is just one of those people meant to dance. You loved his passion while you were dating and admire it still even after not really talking to him for a year. 

Taehyung didn’t notice the surprise on Hoseok’s face- probably because he wasn’t looking for it- and happily drags you backstage to find him. You’re a little surprised you can just walk back here with no one to stop you but you guess they’re all working on things to fix for tomorrow’s show and are too busy to worry about the two of you. 

You find Hoseok in the middle of his dance team crowded around him, his face all smiles as he redoes his favorite move for them. You can’t help but smile fondly at the scene, it reminds you so much of when you and Hoseok first met. It was your first and only hip hop class and he was the instructor. You thought he took extra interest in helping you because you were so terrible and he wanted you to exceed which was true but he also thought you were the cutest mess he’d ever seen. “Hobi!” Taehyung yells, gathering his older friend’s attention as Hoseok leaves the group of dancers to greet you. 

“Hey Tae.” He smiles, giving him that half-hug half-slap on the back that guys do. 

“We got you flowers! Y/n picked them out.” Taehyung smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back to push you more into the conversation. You’d been standing slightly behind Taehyung not sure what to say to Hoseok, that is if he even wanted to talk to you. 

“Ahh hey Y/n. You still know me so well huh?” He laughs, bringing the bouquet to his head. “Be honest, do I still look like them?” He asks and you roll your eyes with a smile. 

“Nah you look more like the one on the bottom that’s wilted and dying. I can’t believe you’re so old now.” You tease easily falling into your old rhythm. Hoseok was always bubbly and playful, an easiness surrounded him that always made you comfortable, even now it seems. 

“Hey it’s only been a year since we last saw each other, I’m only a year older!” He whines. 

“You guys knew each other?” Taehyung asks and you pause. How do you explain to your date that his friend is your ex without it being awkward?

“Yeah we’re old friends.” Hoseok says, seeming to read your uneasiness and giving you an easy out. You give him a grateful smile. 

“Yeah we just lost touch, though it’s good to see you again. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” You mean it. Hoseok was your first love, he was everything you could’ve asked for but eventually you two fell out of love and ended it mutually before you began to hate each other. You’ll always have a soft spot for him and it makes you happy to see he’s doing so well. 

“Yeah me too. I should’ve reached out sooner.” Hoseok tells you and you just shrug.  

“Maybe it was best we found each other again now. Though I wouldn’t mind being friends again.” 

“I’d like that. I missed my favorite tsundere.” Hoseok giggles and you groan. 

“Everyone keeps calling me that today.” You whine. 

“Tsundere? She’s much too shy and sweet for that don’t you think?” Taehyung asks completely confused about this whole interaction. You guess it makes sense because with Hoseok you were kinda like how you are with Jungkook. You’ve never been the bashful type until now. 

“Shy?” Hoseok asks and Taehyung nods. You nod in agreement and Hoseok hums looking between you both for a few moments. “What’d you think of the performance?” 

“The first one was great. I didn’t know you choreographed anything besides hip hop.” You tell him, grateful for the switch of topics. Hoseok is really saving you tonight. 

“Yeah I thought I’d try new genres and become a more well-rounded dancer.”Someone yells Hoseok’s name from across the room and you all turn to see a short girl wave brightly at him, a bouquet nearly as big as her in her arms. “I uhh gotta go but thanks for coming by.” Hoseok says with a slight blush on his cheeks before scurrying over to her. You can’t help but smile after him. You hope this one works out for him. 

“You ready to go?” Taehyung asks lacing his fingers in your own. 

“Yeah, I’m starving. Want to pick up something on the way back?” 

Taco bell in hand and a kiss goodbye you make your way back up to your apartment with a smile on your face. Today went much better than expected. Opening the door connected to your hallway you’re surprised to come face to face with Jungkook. So surprised that you take a step back and trip, beginning to fall backwards down the stairwell before strong arms wrap around your middle and bring you upright. His arm moves so one hand cradles your head and you both just stand there in shock as you process what just happened. You almost fell down the stairs and Jungkook caught you. You almost fell down the stairs!

“Don’t scare me like that!” You yell, pulling away to slap his rather firm chest. 

“How was I supposed to know you were on the other side!” He exclaims, 

“I almost died!” 

“You probably just would’ve gotten concussed but…hey I caught you! Where’s my thank you?” 

“You want me to thank you when you almost killed me??” You ask and Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“You’re so dramatic. Also you uhh threw your taco bell and I’m pretty sure that’s a rat eating it.” 

“What?” You scream, jumping into his arms-not like you needed to though since they’re still wrapped tightly around you- hiding your face in his neck and trying not to picture that rat. You’re a bit of a hypochondriac so just the idea of what diseases the rat could be carrying is freaking you out. Jungkook only chuckles at you before reopening the door leading towards the hallway and carrying you towards your front door where you effectively release him. “You owe me dinner.” 

“Do I?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You made me drop my taco bell and I haven’t had dinner yet.” You pout. 

“Do I always have to take care of you?” Jungkook sighs before unlocking his own front door and pulling you inside. 

“What do you mean take care of me? I’m just a random person remember?” You quip but Jungkook ignores you as he scours throw his fridge. “Bambi stop ignoring me.” You whine which finally gets his attention. 

“Sit thief.” 

“If thief is your attempt at an affectionate pet name I hope you know I hate it.” You tell him, moving to sit at the barstool anyways. 

“All the more reason to use it. Now thief, welcome to Jungkook’s ramen shop where we only serve the finest cup ramen. What flavor do you want?” 

“If this is a restaurant shouldn’t you be wearing one of those big white hats or something? Also chicken please.” 

“Boring choice but okay. Also I’m not wearing one of Jin’s stupid hats.” Jungkook says, turning on the kettle before moving to face you. 

“So you’re telling me he has one? Here… In this apartment?” You ask, eyes glinting with mischief. Jeon Jungkook will be wearing one of those stupid hats even if it’s the last thing you do. 

“I feel like if I say yes I’m going to regret it.” He tells you earnestly but you pay him no mind as you scour the kitchen looking for said hat. It’s not in the cupboards or pantry and you’re beginning to lose interest in finding it until you come across the linen closet in the hallway. You wouldn’t think it’s in there but the way Jungkook stiffens has your spidey senses tingling. With a flourish you open in the door exclaiming ‘aha!’ as you retrieve the item of your dreams along with an apron that says ‘kiss the cook’. 

“Since you’re preparing my food I need you to wear a hat. I don’t want to find a hair that’s not mine in my ramen.” 

“I’m not wearing that.” 

“Fine.” You say with a huff, placing the hat on the counter in front of you. “At least wear the apron?” You bat your lashes at him and he concedes, putting on the stupid thing with the frilly edges. Step one: complete. 

When Jungkook is busy pouring the boiling water in the cups and trying not to burn himself you sneak up behind him, the hat clutched between your fingers as your knees bend in preparation to jump on his back. While not the most conventional method he’s annoyingly kinda tall and if you can get above him you have a better chance of securing the hat onto his head and getting him to keep it there. As soon as the kettle is placed down onto the counter you attack, yelling out a war cry as you launch yourself onto him and almost falling off in laughter at the girlish scream that makes it past his throat. Lucy is barking from what you assume to be his room and the apartment is a madhouse as Jungkook teeters side to side with your legs wrapped around your face and your fingers trying to center the hat on his squirming head. 

“Stop moving!” You yell, accidentally bonking him square on the head with your fist. 

“Ow! Stop fucking hitting me!” He yells back, once again squirming beneath you. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you just stayed still! We could’ve avoided this if you had worn it in the first place.” You’re both too busy arguing to hear the footsteps of one of the other inhabitants of the apartment emerge from their bedroom but when you both spin around you’re surprised by Seokjin causally leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. 

“Say cheese.” He smiles, blinding you with the flash before you can hide behind Jungkook’s head. “Jimin will love this.” He snickers and like Jungkook’s hair is a joystick for him to move you pull it forward to urge him to walk towards Seokjin. 

“Don’t you dare send that! He has enough blackmail material on me already!” You yell, your grip on Jungkook slipping as you attempt to stomp the ground only to realize mid-movement that you’re not actually on the ground. Thankfully Jungkook has faster reflexes then you and catches you before you can fully fly off his body, slamming your upper half into his back while his other hand slides higher up your thigh to secure you now around his hips. It takes you a moment to register that your leg is so warm where his hand is because there’s no fabric barrier and it takes another moment to realize your skirt has probably slid up an embarrassing amount. “Okay put me down, put me down.” You say, slapping Jungkook’s arm to force him into urgency. 

“Alright, alright.” He says before ungracefully dropping you onto your ass. 

“I hate you.” You tell him before straightening out your skirt. 

“What were you two even doing?” Seokjin asks and you sigh. 

“He won’t wear the stupid hat.” You grumble and Seokjin sighs. 

“Kookie wear the hat.” 

“Yeah bambi wear the hat.” When Jungkook is still adamant he won’t be wearing the hat you look up into their ceiling light dramatically before pouting. 

“Look Kook you made her sad.” Jin says, gesturing to you still staring into the light. 

“What’re you doing? You’re gonna make yourself go blind, stop.” Jungkook says but you hold up a hand to silence him. 

“Hang on I’m trying to make myself cry.” You tell him and Jungkook only chuckles. 

“You’re ridiculous. If I wear the hat will you stop?” Immediately you look over to him with watery eyes, blinking rapidly to try and get the annoying circles out of your vision. 

“Yes.” You grin, clapping as he adjusts it to sit lopsided on his head. That’s good enough for you as you jump up in glee. You’re too blind- really those spots just won’t fade away- to notice the almost fond smile Jungkook sends you. 

“You might as well take a picture. This is the only time you’re gonna see me like this.” Jungkook tells you and you grab your phone off the counter and point the camera at you. 

“Say I love you” You tease. 

“I hate you” Jungkook says and you giggle. All is right once again in the universe.

Friday finally comes along and you have a slight problem. You’ve been so busy with Jungkook and Lucy- you have to make sure she’s getting proper care and long walks- that you forgot you were supposed to invite Taehyung over to Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. And now you’re frantically blowing his phone up at four p.m. hoping that he didn’t make plans already. Stupid Jungkook. Like the angels above have taken pity on you, Taehyung is thankfully free and fully okay with you dragging him to Jimin and Yoongi’s place. Per tradition, they provide the place and the drinks and you provide the snacks. Though you’ve been craving fried chicken lately so you’re someone tempted to bring over a whole meal instead. You’re still deep in contemplation when Taehyung arrives at your door, a bag of chips in his hand because he didn’t want to arrive empty handed. How thoughtful. 

“Do you think I should bring fried chicken?” You ask Taehyung, grabbing a few things before you leave for Jimin’s. 

“If you want to, I certainly wouldn’t mind.” 

“Friend chicken it is. Bambi was telling me about this place yesterday and apparently it’s really good.” You ramble, slipping on your shoes by the door. 

“Bambi?” Taehyung asks, following you once you’ve locked up. 

“Yeah, a friend of mine.” You tell him, eyeing the old taco bell stain in the stairwell. You hope the rats enjoyed your five dollars worth of tacos. 

“Is that their favorite movie?” Taehyung asks and you wonder why he’s so curious. Though you guess that’s not the most common nickname and maybe he’s just trying to get to know the people you hang out with. 

“No, they just have big doe eyes. They’re kinda pretty sometimes.” You shrug, not thinking too much about what you’re saying. 

“Hey my friend has eyes like that too! Though that’s a pretty common eye shape.” 

“Yeah but I’d be able to recognize this pair anywhere. They’re quite distinctive.” Taehyung just nods, probably getting bored talking about a pair of eyes he’s never seen on a person he doesn’t know. 

“Hey how come I’ve never really met any of your friends besides Hoseok? Are you hiding them from me?” You tease though you are a little curious. Sure he’s only meeting Jimin because Jimin basically forced you to do so but you’ve never even really heard him talk about his own friends. 

“More like I’m hiding you from them. You’re just too cute; they might slip up and fall in love with you or something.” You laugh and roll your eyes, shoving his arm lightly. 

“Yeah right.” You scoff, yelping when Taehyung nudges you to the side with his whole body in retaliation to your push. “You want to fight Taehyung?” You ask him, brow raised in challenge. 

“Bring it cutie.” He laughs running down the sidewalk a bit as you attempt to check him. “No fair! You can’t just run away.” You pout, placated by the soft kiss he presses to your forehead. You take the moment of weakness to push him, giggling as you run away in the direction of Jimin’s apartment building with Taehyung hot on your heels. 

There’s something unnerving about the way Jimin is observing you and Taehyung, a critical eye he’s never had before when you’ve introduced other guys. Normally he’s bubbly and warm, already giving them a hug like they’re his long lost friend but today he’s rather distant. It’s extra odd since he suggested you meeting but maybe Jimin is just feeling like playing the bad cop today. The doorbell rings and distracts you from observing Jimin who’s observing Taehyung as the boys watch you with anticipation. You’re pretty sure you can hear Yoongi’s stomach rumble as you answer the door while Taehyung heads to the bathroom. 

“Oh hey Namjoon.” You say, not quite expecting to see his face. You haven’t really seen him since he accidentally punched you- you almost get the feeling he’s been avoiding you since. 

“Oh hey Y/n.” He says sheepishly and you just give him an easy smile. 

“You haven’t been avoiding me have you? Joonie I’m not mad at you.” 

“You’re not?” He asks incredulously. 

“No. The bruise healed already by the way, it was pretty small.” 

“I’m so glad to hear it.” He breathes out, sounding pretty relieved. 

“Just for future reference, if it’s an accident I won’t get mad at you for it.” You tell him. 

“Good to know. Oh it’ll be $12.74. Half off for friends and family.” Namjoon smiles, a big one that makes his dimples pop out. 

“You’re too kind to me Joonie.” You say, making sure to tip him 50% just because. 

“You’re too kind to me.” He parrots but happily accepts, waving you goodbye before disappearing back into the hallway. Closing the door Taehyung reemerges from the back hallway and hurries over to give you a hand. 

Setting the food down on the coffee table the boys immediately dig in, not even giving you time to grab plates. Sitting between Taehyung and Jimin, you happily munch away and the four of you eat in silence as My First First Love plays on the tv. Despite Yoongi’s claims that it’s cliche, you’ve caught him watching it every time you come over. He even teared up a little at the bridge scene. 

When the wings are picked clean you ask Jimin to help you clean up solely to interrogate him from the safety of the kitchen. “Stop looking at Tae like that.” You whisper yell and doesn’t even look at you as he’s throwing the bones in the trash. 

“I’m just trying to see if he’s the right choice.” Jimin whispers back. 

“Right choice? You say that like there’s another option.” You say only to scoff. “Besides it’s my decision anyways.” 

“But my ship.” He whines and you sigh. 

“Just give him a chance okay? He’s really sweet and I want him to actually like you if this turns into something. Plus you’re the one who asked to meet him.” 

“You’re right.” Jimin sighs. “He did think to bring chips after all. Jungkook would never.” 

“Jungkook?” 

“Who’s ready to get whooped in Mario Kart?” Jimin yells leaving you to stand alone in the kitchen, utterly confused. What does Taehyung have to do with Jungkook? Shrugging it off you head back into the living room, your seat next to Taehyung now occupied by Jimin who has decided Taehyung is his new best friend. He even gave him the matching controller, something you and Yoongi had to earn. Sitting next to Yoongi, you lean your head on his shoulder as Jimin teaches Taehyung the rules of Mario Kart. 

“You good?” Yoongi murmurs as to not attract attention from the others, 

“Yeah Jimin just confused me is all. You like Taehyung right?” You ask. 

“Of course, he’s my friend. What’d Jimin say?” 

“Something about making sure Taehyung is the right choice. Whatever that means. And he mentioned Jungkook which just confused me.” 

“I think he meant that you just act very different around the two. From what I’ve seen you’re pretty meek around Tae and while it’s cute it’s a little out of nature for you. We’re just used to you being a spitfire is all.” Your mind drifts back to Hoseok’s shocked expression when Taehyung referred to you as shy. Was the you around Taehyung really so different? Sure you were more nervous and struggled to think of what to say and were half as snarky as usual but that’s not a bad thing right? You’re just evolving. Besides Taehyung likes this version of you. But everyone’s doubts has you wondering if it’s really you at all. You’d never change yourself for someone else, right? 

You can’t get the thought that maybe you’re holding yourself back around Taehyung out of your head all night, leaving you to not enjoy game night. Every time you interact with him you can’t help but wonder if you’re being yourself or if you’re portraying an image you’re not. Because while Taehyung does make you nervous and sometimes does make you stumble on your words, the more you’re aware of how you might be changing your behavior the more you’re aware that you’re suppressing your harsher burns or remarks that you’d have no problem saying to anyone else. You wonder if Taehyung realizes how different you act with Yoongi and Jimin compared to him or just amounts it to the fact that they’ve been your long-term friends. You don’t know, you’re not sure of anything at this point regarding you and Taehyung. You wish Jimin never said anything because now you’re left second guessing. 

The thought follows you into the week and even leads you into ignoring Taehyung’s texts if for nothing but to not accidentally lie to him. You don’t want him thinking you’re a fake person and at this point you’re so turned around that you’re not even sure how you could make sense of what’s going on in your head. The more you think about it the more you’re convinced that you’re not yourself around him but the more you convince yourself the louder your doubts get because what if you’re only convinced because you think you should be. The only time you get any solace is with Jungkook and Lucy so naturally you’ve been spending time with them. Though it’s only to see her of course, never Jungkook. Which is why every day you make sure to bring her something new. Whether it’s a costume- yes you went back and bought her the pink onesie, she hated it but you got a cute picture- some new treats, toys, or even little bows you never came empty handed because that would mean you also partly came to spend time with Jungkook. And wanting to spend time with Jungkook would mean that your annoying e-boy neighbor finally broke down your walls and created a little home in your heart. It would mean that he’s finally become your friend and that’s information that can’t get out. Besides if he finds out you think of him as a friend would that change the way he interacts with you? Would you no longer be able to make fun of him and call him names like bambi just to piss him off? 

You think about this as you’re stood outside his door, a hand raised to knock on it and two coffees in hand- Jungkook had promised you to teach you all the tricks in Smash Bros so you could finally beat Jin tonight and it’d probably take a while so you needed to stay awake- paired with a pup cup from Starbucks for Lucy when the door swings open and Jungkook’s doe eyes are frantic. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Is all he says before pulling you into a hug, the pup cup falling to your feet as you struggle to hold onto the two larger drinks. He grips you like a child holding a teddy bear for comfort, his breath ragged against your neck as he hides his face in the crook there. You instantly panic because something has him obviously scared but try your best to remain calm to comfort him. As best as you can you wrap your arms around his back, careful to hold the two cold drinks away from him. 

“You okay?” You ask softly although very aware the answer is no. You and Jungkook have never gone down this road before- one of soft words and touches- so you try and navigate it as best as possible even if that means asking redundant questions. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Lucy, she just keeps coughing and she’s spitting out this white foamy stuff and I don’t know what to do because she’s so hot that I’m scared to carry her in case she overheats and I-“ He sobs out, pushing into you harder as he tries and hides the tears. It’s a little futile however as you can feel him shaking around you but let him collect himself before gently pulling away to set the drinks down. Gingerly you wipe his tears as he hangs his head down in shame- probably from breaking down in front of you (his frenemy)- and you gaze up at him softly. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ll go with you to the vet and we’ll deal with it from there. You can even hold my hand if you need to.” You joke trying to crack a smile to get him to cheer up a little but it doesn’t do anything for him. “Do you have a kennel for her or anything?” You ask and he shakes his head no, his bottom lip trembling. 

“I’m such a bad dog dad.” He sobs and you’re so frantic to calm him down you place little kisses along his face to try and stop the tears. He tenses immediately when he pulls himself out of his thoughts long enough to realize what you’re doing and you pull away embarrassed. 

“We can use a box with some thin blankets it’s fine.” You say, refusing to acknowledge what you just did. It’s something that’s better to just sweep under the rug and forget it happened. Grabbing a smaller box from recycling- you’ve never been so thankful for Costco than in this moment- you hurry to Jungkook’s bedroom where you can hear a little honks from Lucy. Gently opening the door you find her nestled in a bunch of blankets on Jungkook’s bed, the fan blowing directly on her while her head nuzzles his pillows. The footsteps behind you alert you of Jungkook’s presence and you nod to Lucy lying on the bed. 

“See you’re not a bad dog dad at all, she loves you. She’s finding comfort in your scent right now.” Stepping into the room you gingerly walk towards her as to not startle to poor puppy, setting the box down beside you on the bed. 

“Hi baby, we’re gonna go to the doctor okay?” You tell her, gently moving her out of the nest and onto the comforter as you hurry to stuff the little nest into the box. “Bambi do you have a hoodie or something that you’ve worn recently?” You ask and immediately he begins fishing for one in his laundry basket. The hoodie is just a plain grey and you feel a little bad at the inevitable stains but place it into the box anyways before turning back to Lucy. Carefully you slide one hand under her shoulder and head while the other slides under her bottom half before you carry her almost like a newborn baby into the box. It’s not the best crate but it’s the best you can do at a moments notice. Jungkook immediately takes the box from you, careful to hold it from the bottom as you hurry back into the living room and grab his keys from the rack and the two coffees- you’ll probably need them for the long night ahead of you. 

Googling the nearest 24 hour vet clinic seeing as it’s around 9 p.m you hurry into your car and head off. You attempt to play music to calm everyone’s nerves but Jungkook turns it off and instead you sit in silence as your navigation occasionally calls out directions. 

A ten minute ride later you’re once again hurrying, Jungkook sprinting through the doors when Lucy starts to gag. You follow after him, coming in just in time to see one of the Vet Tech’s take Lucy to the back. Jungkook slumps against the counter as the receptionist readies some files for him to complete and you take the clipboard from her after urging Jungkook to sit down. Quietly you fill out the information sheet for him, only occasionally asking him questions for things you don’t know the answer to. You’ve just sat down when they call for Jungkook, his hand finding your own and you squeeze it thinking he just needs a moment of comfort when he tugs on it, refusing to let go. “Come with me?” He whispers and you nod, immediately standing up to follow him with his hand still sat comfortably in your own. 

“So we’ve took her temperature and she’s running a high fever and obviously she’s coughing but can you describe her other symptoms if she had any?” The Vet Tech asks and Jungkook nods. 

“She uhh coughed up this white foamy stuff that kinda had the consistency of snot and she was gagging before we came here. She’s probably been coughing for the last couple of hours.” 

“Did she do or eat anything out of the ordinary today?” 

“She met my friend’s dog. I know she doesn’t have all her shots but I thought it’d be okay since he has all his.” Jungkook mumbles and the guy nods along while making notes. 

“We’re just going to take a few tests to make sure we have the right diagnosis and then we’ll get back to you. We’re not that busy so it should only take an hour or two at most. If you’d like to go back in the waiting room we’ll call you back when we’re ready or you can wait here if you’d like.” He says before exiting the small room and disappearing. 

“What do you want to do?” You ask Jungkook and he just sighs. 

“I don’t know. Do you think this is my fault?” He asks, his normally sparkly eyes are dull as devastation and heartbreak take full form in them. It hurts you to watch and you almost feel your own heart break at his evident pain. As much as you love Lucy you only spend a few hours a day with her so your pain can amount nowhere close to Jungkook’s. 

“I don’t think we should go there, especially when we don’t have a diagnosis. Let’s just stay here so you can nap. You look exhausted.” You tell him and he sneers. 

“You want me to sleep when my dog could be dying?” He yells and you flinch away. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. And she was puking up snot Kook it’s not like she was coughing blood. It’ll be okay.” You tell him, trying to be understanding and not take his yelling personal. “You don’t have to sleep alright?” 

“Alright.” He sighs, sitting back down again before laying his head in your lap. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He mumbles, turning his head to bury it into your thigh to hide his embarrassment. 

“I know, it’s okay.” You say softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and eventually his body relaxes enough that you realize despite his previous words he has in fact fallen asleep. You continue stroking his hair as he snores lightly against you, praying that for his sake Lucy is okay.

“Sorry that took so long, we had an emergency surgery and Lucy got put on hold for a little.” The Vet says as she barges in, your head banging against the wall as you startle awake. Jungkook groans from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he pouts at being abruptly awoken. 

“It’s okay.” You croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. You stretch all your limbs, your back cracking wonderfully as the Vet waits for both of you to wake up, somewhat amused. 

“We looked through the test results and it turns out she has Kennel Cough. It’s nothing too serious, it typically clears up on it’s own but since she’s not fully vaccinated we’re going to give her medicine to help clear it up faster and make sure it’s fully gone. By the time the medication is finished be sure to bring her back for her final vaccination and just don’t let her around other dogs until then okay?” You both nod and she gives you the prescription, before informing you that’d she’ll be right back with Lucy. 

Checking your phone you realize that it’s currently 2 a.m. and you wonder just how long the two of you have been sleeping on these hard chairs. The vet appears shortly later with a sleepy Lucy- apparently they gave her some medicine to make her sleep through the night- along with a crate. “Figured you’d need a real one of these instead of a cardboard box. I already put her blankets and the jacket inside so she’s all good to go. Just make sure to stop by the front desk and sign out.” With a wave goodbye and a get well to Lucy she leaves the two of you alone again. 

“Do you think the crate is free?” Is the first thing Jungkook says to you and you laugh, ruffling his hair. 

“I don’t know Bambi. If not let’s just make a run for it.” 

“Just what I want to be arrested for: stealing a dog crate.” He laughs, rolling his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to Lucy’s forehead. “Let’s go home baby.” He says and for a moment your tired mind thinks he’s talking to you. Shaking your head of useless thoughts you lead him back to the reception desk where he pays for her care- the crate surprisingly was free- before you lead him back to your car where this time he lets you play music on the drive home. 

Pulling up to your apartment complex, you park before taking the elevator this time to the second floor, too tired to walk up a measly two flights of stairs. You’re just about to fish your key out of your bag when Jungkook’s hand on your wrist stops you. “Will you come in and help me make sure she’s settled?” He asks and he looks so nervous while asking you that you can’t say no- not that you were planning to. Nodding you follow him inside after taking your shoes off, tucking her into her bed that’s in the corner of his room. 

“Do you think I should let her up here?” 

“Your body heat might make her fever worse.” You tell him and he visibly deflates. “It’s okay you can wake up bright and early if you want to sit by her side all day tomorrow. But she’s so knocked out she probably won’t even realize you’re not next to her right now.” It’s the most you can offer him as your own drowsiness sets in and every time you blink your eyelids stick together for a little longer. 

“Do you just want to stay here?” Jungkook asks and for a split second you’re wide awake. “You just look so tired I don’t think you could make it the ten feet next door.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes. 

“I could.” You huff and Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he observes you. 

“You don’t have to though.” He says softly, moving to lay flat on his back. 

“Touch me and you’re dead.” You tell him, the bed creaking as you settle down beside him. He hums in response and you roll onto your side, letting sleep take over. 

Surprise, Surprise-when you wake up Jungkook has broken your rule. In fact his whole body is wrapped around you as his leg is nestled between your own while one arm wraps around your waist and the other has somehow slid under your neck. It’s entirely too domestic of a scene with a once sworn enemy and you scramble to get out of this position before Jungkook wakes up. Except he was either already awake or your squirming awoke him as he mumbles at you to stop moving before encasing his arms around you and rolling so you’re effectively trapped under him. It does render you motionless but it also renders you breathless since he’s so heavy. I mean really what is this kid eating? 

“I can’t breathe.” You say into a mouthful of pillow only further suffocating himself. Jungkook only hums in response, snuggling into you further like this is the most natural thing for you two to do. You manage to turn your head enough to not be face deep in a pillow and choke out, “You’re too heavy. Get off.” as he finally gets the hint that he’s been killing you softly and rolls to the other side of the bed. 

“Sorry.” He says at least having the decency to look remorseful and embarrassed by the fact that he almost murdered you. 

“You broke my rule, I said don’t touch me.” You scold him, already reaching to the side to grab the pillow. 

“But you cuddled me first!” 

“Don’t care, I have to kill you now.” You shrug before whacking him in the face a little bit harder than you meant to. “Boom, headshot. You’re dead.” You giggle, probably way to nonchalant about the fact you woke up entangled in the arms of your nemesis but if you don’t think about it, it can’t hurt you. 

“You really think a headshot could kill me, the indestructible Jeon Jungkook? Never!” Jungkook says, reaching around to grab a pillow to hit you with before Seokjin’s voice sounds through the other side of the door. 

“Jungkook are you playing with your action figures again? I told you that’s weird.” You stifle the laugh fighting to break out with your hand, taking much to pleasure in the fact that Jungkook’s face is bright red and he can no longer look you in the eye. 

“No Jin! I’m talking with Y/n.” He yells before his eyes widen at his mistake. He just outed you both as…cuddle buddies. The door bursts open at that, Seokjin being much to awake for whatever time it is in the morning with his phone pointed directly at you for incriminating evidence. 

“It’s happening!” He screams, waking up Lucy who manages something that somewhat resembles her normal bark. 

“Lucy!” You and Jungkook both scream, scrambling off the bed to check on her. Seokjin keeps his camera on you both as you and Jungkook fuss over Jungkook’s tiny puppy completely forgetting that he’s in the room. 

“Everything is falling together so beautifully don’t you think Jimin?’ He whispers and you look up for a moment in confusion having heard him but he only winks at you in response. Seokjin sure has a lot of secrets. 

You finally reach out to Taehyung feeling bad for ignoring him for a week but also needing closure. You need to see once and for all if you really are a different person around Taehyung. It’ll only have to be after the class that started it all, your 400 person lecture that is the whole reason you and Jungkook even became aware of each other’s existence despite being neighbors. You’ve asked him to meet you after class seeing that it’s the last class of the day for you and you didn’t think it was fair to keep Taehyung waiting any longer. He was a good person and he deserved to know where your head is at. You almost hope that if this doesn’t end up working that you can genuinely still be friends. 

Jungkook has apparently decided to save you a seat- which is a little odd since you’ve never made an effort to sit next to each other before- if him flagging you down is anything to go by. He did make a good choice in seats though- choosing to be in the back and near the edge of the long rows- as it means you don’t have to climb over a bunch of people just to get to him. “Hi.” He breathes like he’s relieved to have you sit beside him. You wonder if he thought you’d just turn and walk in the other direction. 

“Hi bambi.” You smile, pulling your laptop out of your bag and sticking it on the little tray connected to your chair. “Thanks for saving me a seat.” 

“Anytime thief.” He actually snorts when he watches your face drop, apparently still getting satisfaction from the old nickname. 

“Are you never going to let that go?” You sigh, slumping back into the chair and placing your head in your palm. 

“First you took my backpack, then my plant, then my dog. Is there anything you haven’t taken from me?” He teases and you huff. 

“I give you a cute nickname like Bambi and you decide to stick me with thief. Why do I even try to be nice to you?” 

“Because I’m adorable and it’s impossible not to be nice to me. But if you’re really so hard done by it I guess I can call you Thumper.” He shrugs, cackling at the disgust that takes shape on your face. 

“Gross. Matching pet names is what you came up with?” 

“It’s thief or thumper, your pick.” He has an evil glint in his eyes as he smiles so wide at you that his whole face crinkles, his shoulders rising up to shake in laughter. It might be the happiest you’ve ever seen him and you suppose if thumper makes him so happy it’s not so bad.

“Fine thumper will do.” You murmur, chucking when he high fives himself like a total loser. The professor then comes in and the class falls silent- which is a little odd since normally this class is never quiet- as he turns to face you all. 

“It’s come to my attention there is a thief among us. Last week a student reported their laptop missing from this class that has yet to be returned. If you know anything about this and have substantial proof as to where it is, you’ll receive extra credit on your next paper.” 

“Any chance it was you, my favorite little thief?” Jungkook whispers, groaning in pain when you elbow him. 

“No and like I’d share it with you. You don’t deserve the extra credit.” You whisper back. 

For the rest of the class Jungkook is surprisingly quiet, so much so that you even forget he’s beside you. When you do remember he is though you get oddly creeped out because in the time you’ve known him he’s rarely ever quiet. Even if he’s not making noise with his mouth he’s tapping his foot or fingers along to an unknown beat and yet he’s eerily silent. Turning to him in concern you watch as he analyzes the back of everyone’s head in great concentration, moving along the row in front of you slowly as to gain every detail. “What’re you doing?” You ask, ignoring the professor as he wraps up the lecture. Looking at Jungkook’s screen you notice that he hasn’t even written down a single thing from today. 

“I’m looking for the laptop thief.” He says nonchalantly like it isn’t weird to stare at the back of stranger’s heads for the past hour. 

“And you’re finding that out from looking at the back of their heads?” 

“Yes, I’m seeing who looks most like one.” He tells you and you turn to him fully to get his attention. 

“Do I look like a thief?” You ask, unmoving as the people around you quickly gather their stuff and head out of the lecture hall. 

“Yes.” He says matter-of-factly. A smile making its way onto his face as he can read the clear irritation on yours. 

“How so?” 

“It’s just something about you. One look at you and I knew you were it.” 

“That’s because you saw me with your backpack in my hand dumbass. You’re not batman with your ‘here comes trouble’ detector.” You scoff, finally moving to put your laptop in your bag. You’ve only just realized you two are about the last ones in the lecture hall and the remaining few can probably hear your conversation. You don’t need more people thinking you’re a criminal. 

“That’s- that’s not even a thing? Have you ever watched a superhero movie in your life?” Jungkook asks, like he can’t fathom the fact that you were just spitting nonsense. Honestly you had seen some superhero movies but you didn’t care much for them. 

“In my defense, spidey senses are a thing as well as a guy who literally shoots webs from his hands? How does that make sense?” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face when he groans in agitation, turning around to catch him running a hand through his hair and fixing his glasses- you were right, he only wears them for the aesthetic which is why he never has them on at home. 

“He was bit by a radioactive spider!” 

“How did it not die when being around the radiation? It’s literally a tiny spider.” You ask and Jungkook just looks at you exasperatedly. 

“People don’t die from radiation.” He deadpans, flicking your forehead for being stupid. 

“But it’s a spider. Also how did he not die from being exposed to the radiation? Wasn’t he like a scrawny guy?” 

“That was Captain America you idiot.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as well. You knew that but Jungkook is too fun to piss off. Besides it’s only fair since you know he gets the same satisfaction from you. 

“I know idiot.” You grin, flicking his forehead as you skip away from him and towards the doors.

He chases after you a matching grin on his face as he grabs onto your hand to slow you down. “So you’re purposely being irritating?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t do the same.” You giggle, completely unaware of the third set of eyes in the room. 

“Uhh am I interrupting something?” Taehyung asks and you suddenly remember you were supposed to meet him after class. 

“Taehyung hi.” You smile at him awkwardly, taking a step away from Jungkook who drops your hand. 

“You know Taehyung?” Jungkook asks you and you nod. 

“Yeah I forgot I was supposed to meet him outside of class today.” You tell him before turning back to Taehyung. “Sorry about that by the way.” 

“So Jungkook’s bambi?” Taehyung asks though it’s more like he’s talking it through himself. “And you’re the backpack thief.” 

“That sounds like a bad rip off of Percy Jackson.” You joke, trying to displace some of the awkward tension in the air. No one laughs. 

“Taehyung how do you know thumper?” Jungkook asks, his voice teetering on actually angry. It’s not the type you’re used to hearing for the one he directs at you is normally more light-hearted and teasing. This type is deep and gravely like he has hot coals burning in his windpipe. 

“We went out a few times.” Taehyung says and you find yourself backtracking when you watch Jungkook’s face drop a little. You’re not sure why it drops but his downcast expression worries you all the same. 

“It wasn’t anything serious though. It’s not like we’re officially together.” You don’t know why you rush to reassure him, especially since Taehyung is in the room and you’re talking about him, but you can’t help but feel guilty for his sadness. You feel a little bit like Jimin did when he moved out. 

“So that’s it?” Jungkook finally speaks though his voice is noticeably weaker. 

“Yeah.” You say, hoping that’ll solve whatever problem is happening between you right now. That seems like it’s the wrong answer though as he turns around and exists the doors on the other side of the classroom. You wish you could chase after him and find out what’s wrong but you don’t know what to say. 

“Taehyung I’m sorry.” You start, after following him out to a secluded bench near the building you were just in. “I didn’t mean to say that I wasn’t serious about you. I do like you and our dates did mean something to me. I just- he looked so sad and I panicked.” 

He’s silent for a long moment and you grow antsy beside him before he decides to speak. “Do I make you feel confident?” He asks, turning to you head on so he can read your body language as you try and process his question. 

“What?” 

“I was confused by why Hoseok seemed so shocked when I described you as shy and then I saw how you reacted with Jimin and Yoongi but I amounted to it being because you’re old friends. But seeing you with Kook who I know you only met a few days before me, I can’t help but notice you’re almost a different person. So, do I make you feel confident?” 

“You…you make me feel nervous but that’s only because you’re so handsome.” You start only for him to cut you off. 

“But you should be used to my face by now. Do you think Jungkook is handsome?” 

“Of course but I don’t really see the relevance. Sorry let me rephrase, I’m not very good at expressing myself.” You ramble, mind sent into overdrive as you scramble to think of words. 

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, placing a hand on your cheek to soothingly stroke his thumb along your cheekbone. “you deserve someone who you can easily express yourself to. You shouldn’t have to struggle to find the words.” 

“But I’m like that with everyone, it’s just who I am.” You shrug but Taehyung stops you again. 

“You’re not that way with Jungkook. I’ve heard you tell him off just fine in plenty of his stories about you. You never seem to find the wrong words around him. Even when you were stressed about his feelings being hurt just now you could find something to say. Besides, I don’t think we have half as much chemistry as you and Jungkook do. He almost kissed you that day Lucy peed on him.” 

“He what?” You exclaim, pulling away from Taehyung in shock. 

“I mean this in the nicest way possible but don’t you think it’s time you wake up and realize what’s right in front of you? Jungkook hasn’t been exactly subtle about his feelings for you and I think in your own way you weren’t exactly subtle about yours for him either.” 

“So you’re telling me I like Jungkook?” You say, the words coming out slowly as you process the sentence. As odd as it sounds on your tongue you feel a small weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“I’m saying that you should re-evaluate your relationship with him. I think you both mean a lot more to each other than the other thinks and it’s pretty easy to see on the outside. I just wish I would’ve figured out who you were sooner so I could avoid hurting my best friend.” Taehyung sighs, turning away from you to watch the people around you blissfully unaware of the mess that is your life. 

“Best friends?” You exclaim. “But I never heard much about you, no offense.” 

“We lost touch a little this semester when I became engrossed in my classes. If your portfolio is good enough they’ll show it to nearby galleries to display so I’ve been quite busy. The only bit of free time I’ve spent with you.” 

“But we went to Hoseok’s show?” You say, still trying to piece it together.

“Again, time spent with you but since he’s my roommate I can’t exactly not show up to his recital. Also you and Hoseok are terrible actors, I could tell you were exes the moment you stood awkwardly behind me.” Taehyung chuckles and you slap his arm in response. 

“Hey I could’ve been shy!” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

“Is that why you never talked about your friends much? Because I’d probably know them through Hoseok and that’d be awkward.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t exactly know you were his ex at the time you asked me out. We’d only been living together for a couple months at that point.” Taehyung shrugs and you sigh. A lot could’ve been avoided if you and Taehyung had actually talked. Though you’re starting to realize that this is the easiest it’s ever been to talk to him now that the pressure of a relationship is off. 

“Hey Tae, do you think we can try being just friends? I really do enjoy your company.” You ask, a little too nervous to look at him for his reaction. Facing rejection is never easy. 

“I think we could work something out. Besides I don’t know if you noticed but this is probably the best conversation we’ve ever had. Ironically it’s about us breaking up, if you can even call this that.” Taehyung laughs and you laugh along beside him. Funny how some things work out. 

The next task on your list is finding Jungkook. You look at the dining halls first- Jungkook’s favorite place despite the fact that everything is either soggy or undercooked- but he’s nowhere to be seen. Then you head to the library thinking he’ll go to the last place you’d think to look for him- which of course makes it your second- but he’s not there either. Your last resort is to head home and see if maybe you can find him there. Jin answers the door this time, jerking his head back towards the hallway where Jungkook’s room is. 

“He’s back there sulking.” Jin whispers, handing you a tub of ice cream and a spoon. “He won’t let anyone in but I’m sure you’ll get special treatment.” 

“Jin, am I in your OTP?” You ask. His eyes widen comically as he shakes his head side to side. 

“No, of course not. What even is that? Sorry I don’t understand you and Kook’s nerd lingo.” He rambles and your mind- ever the hyperfixator- focuses on one word. In all the time that you’ve known your neighbors, you’ve never heard Jin use the word nerd. And you’ve been here countless hours every day. But one person you know that has an infinity for the word nerd is Park Jimin who you already know shares secrets with Jin. 

“Hmm okay. Though you might want to tell Jimin your ship could be sailing fairly soon.” You wink, enjoying the fact that this time you’re the one leaving with a smirk and he’s left confused. 

Knocking softly on his door, you ignore the way he groans “go away” at you and open it, ducking just barely in time for the pillow to graze the top of your head. “Thumper?” 

“Hey bambi. I brought you ice cream.” Slowly standing up, you take in the way Lucy is wrapped up in his arms like a little plushie, a thick blanket wrapped around him as he burrows into the pillows the longer you observe him. Handing it to him along with the spoon you sit on the edge of the bed, picking at the loose threads as you try and find the courage to confront what just happened. 

“Taehyung and I broke up, if you can even call it that.” You say suddenly, the spoon in Jungkook’s mouth falling against the mattress with a soft thud. You grimace at the hard stain that’s going to form but Lucy is delighted at the sticky residue left on the spoon. Lucky for her Jungkook is boring and likes vanilla ice cream. 

“You what?” He asks, mouth hanging open until you push it closed. 

“Don’t leave your mouth open, you’ll catch flies.” You giggle. “But yeah we decided we’re better off as friends.” You leave out the part that you decided you also might have feelings for Jungkook because today has already been an emotional day for you.

“Is-is there a specific reason why?” Jungkook asks almost pleadingly and as much as you want to give him the answer you hope he’s looking for you can’t. Not until you’ve slept on it, not until you’re sure that this is what you want. He deserves that at least. 

“We just didn’t click the same. I was pretty shy around him actually. Can you believe that?” You laugh and Jungkook sighs. 

“Why were you never shy with me?” 

“You’re kind of infuriating. Besides Taehyung never pushed my buttons like you do. There was nothing to be snarky to him about.” You shrug, your mind momentarily thinking back to what Jimin said what seems like such a long time ago: you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit. While a little ineloquent for your taste it sadly does some you up. You guess you were forever destined to end up in an enemies to lovers. 

It only takes two days for you to realize you’re an idiot. It only takes two days for you to realize that you may have accidentally been falling in love with your nemesis turned frenemy this whole time while not knowing it. You’ve always been bad with feeling but surely no one is that inept: well expect you of course. You should’ve seen it coming with the way he was constantly on your mind and began inviting yourself over to his place- something you don’t even do to your childhood best friend Jimin. Or that fact that you climbed in his bed, tired but competent to know that you’d probably wake up with his arms around you. And yet you continuously pushed these thoughts away under the pretense that he thought of you as nothing more than a frenemy at best- it was probably painfully obvious like when he put on the stupid chef hat to make you happy or when thief lost its negative connotation and became a sweet nickname for you. Perhaps the most glaring reason is the fact that he gave you matching pet names but in conclusion: you’re an idiot. 

“How could I not notice?” You whine to Jimin as you walk through campus. You’re on a rather old path- one that’s less of a straight shot to the student union- enjoying the shade that the buildings provide from the sun. Summer is beginning to settle in making walking around campus your least favorite activity. 

“They do say love is blind. Did you see that whole show they created? Yoongi and I made a shot game so whenever Jessica talked about her and Mark’s age gap we had to drink and I’ve never got wasted to fast in my life.” He snorts at the memory and you almost wish you had been there but drunk Jimin was undoubtably the clingiest Jimin. He was the epitome of the “I love you” drunk and as much as you did love him sometimes it was a bit too much for you to handle. Yoongi, however, loved drunk Jimin because Jimin gave him all the attention he was unwilling to express desire for. “I can imagine.” You laugh. “But I guess I don’t really know what to say. We’re rarely not arguing.” 

“Yeah but isn’t it that ‘I want to kiss you but also punch you’ type?” 

“Just how much do you and Jin talk about us? You’re starting to pick up on each other’s diction.” 

“You should just give the people what they want and messily confess to him. It really sets the tone for your ‘i love you, I love you not’ relationship.” Jimin laughs. 

“What should I say? Should I do it 10 things I hate about you style?” You ask, unaware that you’re passing the life science building, 

“Yes! Give me an idea of the performance.” 

“It’s not a performance, it’s a confession but nonetheless,” You pause and take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “I hate the way you piss me off like the day we first met. I hate that I can hear your infuriating voice in my head all the time. I hate the way you talk to me like a friend. I hate the way I can’t stand to simply just be around you anymore. I hate the way you call me thief or thumper.” You’re too deep in your monologue to notice the way Jimin visibly panics in front of you, shaking his head rapidly from side to side to try and warn you silently to stop talking. Yet like any shakespearean play you run too long, too deep in your own feelings to notice the dagger you aim at your own heart.

It hits home when a shoulder checks into your own, a hurt, “If you hate me so much you could’ve just said so” coming from your favorite voice and you crumble. Because just like Romeo and Juliet you killed your love before it could have the chance to truly blossom. You think for once you might actually hate yourself as you watch his figure disappear as he breaks into a jog. Your heart cracks even further when you realize it’s probably because he’s crying- the imagine of him shoving his face into your neck to hide them from you resurfacing. And then you’re crying because you just ruined what could be the best thing you didn’t know you had. You wish you would’ve just said something two days ago because you don’t think you’ll get the chance to even speak to him again even if it’s just to apologize. 

Silent tears streak down your cheeks- you thought it’d be a cool thing to learn how to do when you were younger (cry silently that is)- as Jimin leads you away from the curious eyes of the other students as they no doubtably wonder what has you crying at a little past noon on a weekday. You wonder what they’d think if they knew you accidentally broke the heart of the boy you’re in love with while planning a confession. It was a simple case of wrong place, wrong time and yet just like that he’s gone. You laugh at the irony of it all- you lost him before you even had him- and Jimin just stares at you with pity. You hate it and so despite knowing he’s just trying to help and that you’re being irrational you shrug him off you and sprint to your own apartment, hoping for solace in the silence. For once it’s nice to come home to nothing.

You can’t sleep. It’s been approximately twelve hours since you crushed Jungkook and you can’t sleep not knowing if he’s okay. He probably won’t answer when he sees it’s you- he won’t answer your texts or calls- and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting out of bed and knocking on his door. It’s asking for your own heartbreak but you figure you deserve it at this point. No one comes after five minutes so you knock again and wait another five. Not wanting to look like an idiot for standing in the hallway when no one is home- or at least willing to answer- you head back to your own apartment. 

The next morning you wake up early in hopes to catch a glimpse of him going on his morning run- he always goes just before 8 a.m. so he can come back, shower, and then fall back asleep before he needs to leave for class- and yet his figure never emerges. Concerned you knock on his door and to your surprise Namjoon answers. Unsurprisingly he’s not happy to see you. “Go home Y/n.” He sighs. When he sees your dejected expression he pauses in closing the door on you. “Did you mean it?” 

“No, he wasn’t supposed to hear that. I was um practicing confessing.” You murmur, looking down at your hands awkwardly as you reveal your true intentions to Namjoon. You feel much too vulnerable. “Have you ever seen the movie 10 things I hate about you? She confesses in a similar monologue to what I was attempting but I didn’t make it to the end when he heard.” 

Namjoon hums for a moment before nodding like he’s come to a resolution. You wish he’d tell you what it was. “Give him time okay?” You nod solemnly before ducking back into your own apartment. 

The next day you resolve to buy him a succulent plant, a little aloe vera one from the market Taehyung works at. The plant is what started this whole hatred turned friendship turned…whatever this is. If you hadn’t argued over one stupid little plant you’d probably have never spoken after you awkwardly returned his bag. You’d have no reason to. So you hope that while it’s not a big gesture, it’d at least be a small place to start. Quietly you sneak to his front door and place it on the welcome mat, knocking quickly before ducking inside your peephole. You watch in anticipation as the door cracks open before closing again, the little succulent still on the mat. You heave a sigh, wondering what else you could do.

The next month passes by slowly and every day you stop by the store to buy another succulent. You’ve started to associate them with Jungkook, picking one up for every day you think of him. Each one is named something different, tied with a different memory you have of him. Lucy: for obvious reasons. Frosty: for the first time you started to see him as something other than a frenemy. Bambi: for the man of the hour himself. And your personal favorite, thumper: a fuzzy little cactus that resembles a rabbit’s tail. Thumper also marks the day that started it all, the chain reaction that led to you discovering just how much your e-boy neighbor meant to you. 

“Holy shit.” Jimin says, stepping into your apartment for the first time in a month. You’ve become a bit of a recluse, though you did apologize to him for shrugging him off when he was just trying to help you that day. The only time you do interact with people is when you go to class, the market or Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. Other than that you just stay here alone, brewing in your self-made despair. “It’s like planet of the plants in here or something. Do I need to worry about you being a hoarder?” Jimin asks and you shrug.

“My mind kinda hyperfixated on succulents and the succulents remind me of him so I’ve been collecting them.” 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jimin asks.

“He wouldn’t pick up my calls and Namjoon said he needed time so I stopped trying. I tried giving him an aloe plant like Cherry but he didn’t accept it.” You sigh, picking up the plant he discarded and brushing along its leaves. Bonjour-dubbed the word sprawled across the welcome mat- wilts a little when you touch it and you wonder if your sadness is infecting it. 

“This blows. Especially since it’s all over a misunderstanding.” 

“Has Jin mentioned anything about how he’s doing?” 

“I don’t think he’s faring much better. Jin has to take Lucy on her morning walks now because he barely wakes up in time for class. Apparently he’s taken up an interest in herbology though and is growing spices, wonder who he’s trying to remember.” Jimin nudges your shoulder and you roll your eyes. 

“He’s probably doing it for Jin as a birthday present or something.” You’d rather not get your hopes up. He’d have talked to you by now if he missed you right?

You evidently get your answer as a harsh pounding on your front door wakes you up and half-asleep and a little uncaring about who’s on the other side you throw it open. Sleepily you rub your eyes while wondering why whoever was so desperate to talk to you is suddenly silent when the haze in your mind clears enough to register Jungkook stands before you with a 10 things I hate about you dvd case clutched in his hand. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks are tear stained making you instantly reach up to wipe them away before you retract. He probably doesn’t want you to touch him. “Did you mean it?” He croaks out and you stare at him confused. 

“Mean what?” 

“When you said what you hate about me did you mean it?” Your eyes flicker to the dvd in his hand and it clicks.

“I love you.” 10 things I hate about you be damned. You’re done with dancing around your feelings and painting them in fancy words. Sometimes as you’ve learned from Taehyung it’s better to just be blunt. 

“You- what?” 

“I love your smile and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I love the little things about you like the mole on the bottom of your lip or the way you’re always humming a random tune. You tease me and piss me off but I’ve never wanted to kiss someone in my life more than you. This past month has been awful without you and I don’t think I can stand another minute without you. So call me a thief, call me thumper. Call me whatever you want as long as I’m yours.” He’s silent for a minute before the dvd case falls to the ground, his hands instead reaching up to cup both of your cheeks as he brings his mouth down onto your own. His lips are softer than you expected, fitting easily against your own as he presses them to yours tenderly despite the urgency behind his actions. Gently he parts your lips open to deepen the kiss and you sigh into him, pressing your body into his own wanting to feel his warmth. He only parts when you both need air, the two of you panting as you still stay close together. 

His breath fans your face as he places three gentle pecks to your lips, his head resting against your own. “I love you too thumper. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone half as much as I love you.” 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I wish I would’ve spoken to you sooner. And you know, for stealing your backpack.” 

“Aha! So you do admit you stole it!” He laughs, grinning as you attempt to shove him away only to pull you closer. “But I’m sorry too, I should’ve heard you out sooner. And I’m sorry for always calling you a thief.” 

“I already told you that was fine.” You laugh, leaning back to kiss the tip of his nose. 

“Yeah but I know you hated it. I only kept calling you it though because you stole my heart.” 

“Gross.” You fake gag, bending over to pretend to vomit. He giggles at your behavior, wrestling you closer to him as you try and turn around to walk away. “Who knew my boyfriend was so cheesy?” 

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.” He says, finally looking up and noticing the terrarium that is your apartment. “Why do you suddenly have so many plants?” 

“I got a succulent for every day I think of you.” You say, squealing when Jungkook attacks your sides. 

“And you said I was the cheesy one!” He screams, chasing after you to tickle you further when you finally break free. 

“Jimin our ship has finally sailed!” Seokjin whispers into the phone from next door. You and Jungkook had left your front door wide open, giving him a prime view as the two of you chased each other around, very much stupidly in love. 

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung fanfic #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts angst #bts college au #jungkook college au #taehyung college au #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jungkook angst #taehyung angst #park jimin #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #bts v fanfic

[yoon-kooks]

Love Note | jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, College!AU, a touch of mystery

Summary: When a stray pink notebook falls into your possession, you’re mildly disturbed to find the pages filled with a long list of popular students, their significant others, and how they got together. You can’t imagine what kind of twisted person would keep track of other people’s love affairs to the point of obsession, but you have one clue. The only person listed without a significant other is the campus heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. It isn’t until after an unlikely conversation is initiated that you begin to piece together the truth behind the boy and the notebook.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none

A/N: this is loosely based off the manga, death note 🤪

-

Love.

Sometimes you wonder what it takes to catch someone’s attention, to capture the fluttering hearts of those around you, to be loved without trying. You don’t understand. Why is it that average folks like you struggle to have even a single classmate ask for your number while the popular kids have a whole flock of fans vying for their attention? The divide between the popular crowd and everyone else almost feels unfair. The only logical explanation you’ve come to is that some people are blessed and others are cursed.

Cursed. That’s exactly how you feel after picking up an ominous stray notebook in the hallway outside of your psych classroom.

You had found it funny how everyone seemed to step over the notebook as not to trip, but no one thought to pick it up and return it to the owner. So after the rush of students emptied out of the halls, you scooped it up and examined the pink cover for the name of the owner. Instead of a name, you found the phrase “Love Note” written across the cover in black sharpie. You didn’t think anything of it until you flipped the notebook open and saw what you saw.

You should’ve never opened the book. Because now you’re stuck with it.

Your jaw falls until it’s dragging on the floor as you flip through the pages. The pages are all practically fill with the same thing, and it has nothing to do with the lecture you just came out of. In fact, it has nothing to do with school aside from the names of students listed in it.

Kim Seokjin & Park Jiyeon – a serenade with a guitar and cheesy lyrics

Im Nayeon & Kim Taehyung – bonded while failing chem together

Lee Hyeri & Kim Namjoon – partnered up during a marine biology seminar on crustaceans

Jung Hoseok & Min Yoongi – opposites attract

Written in messy columns and rows, you recognize a majority of the names as the popular faces on campus, some of which are in your class. You assume the name paired next to theirs is their significant other because the column after that alludes to how they got together.

You get the feeling you’ve picked up the belonging of some creep and seen something you shouldn’t have seen. Because who the hell would bother keeping tabs on other people’s love affairs. It’s none of their business and it’s certainly none of yours.

Just as you’re about to head toward the lost-and-found, the name at the very bottom of the list catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook. You wouldn’t have even spotted his name amongst the hundreds of others if it weren’t for the blank space next to his. In fact, his name is the only one written without another name next to it. But now that you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.

You’ve never spoken to the boy personally, but everyone seems to know him. Many of your classmates signed up for your psych class just to be in the same vicinity as him. He’s handsome, funny, smart, and even quite kind from what you’ve heard. He’s the total package that everyone aspires to get a piece of. Even you are a tad curious to know what kind of witchcraft he uses to draw people in so effortlessly.

At the same time, you know your place. He’s popular, and you’re average at best. You’re not the type to approach him like all the other girls begging for his affection. And you know he’d never approach you either. That’s the curse that was bestowed upon you.

If you knew the boy or at least had the guts to talk to him, you’d surely bring the notebook to his attention. Because if your name were written and singled-out in someone’s creepy notebook, you’d want to know, too. You’d want someone to have your back.

That’s the only reason why you’re still holding onto the notebook and not freeing yourself of the burden. If you were to leave it lying around or at the lost-and-found, who’s to say someone else would be willing to do the deed in your stead. From what you witnessed earlier, no one was even willing to pick the notebook up.

So you’ve decided what you’ll do. At the next lecture, you’ll find Jungkook and slip the notebook into his bag without him noticing. In that way, you can rid yourself of the notebook once and for all while also giving the boy a subtle heads-up with what’s being written about him and his popular crowd.

The plan is fool-proof.

-

The next morning, you feel it in your stomach. The feeling of stressing way too much over something so stupid. But you can’t help but fear the thought of getting caught. You’d hate for Jungkook or any classmate to catch you sticking something so suspicious in his bag. What if they get the wrong idea and think you’re the creepy owner of the notebook? You can’t have that.

Still, you do have a sense of duty to uphold. Clutching the notebook in your arms, you walk into the lecture hall with the intention of going through with the plan. You’ll still try to sit behind him or somewhere in his vicinity, and if it seems to risky, you can always do what you do best: chicken out.

Glancing around the lecture hall, you realize you’ve made one fatal mistake. You arrived before Jungkook. Feeling like a goof, you slump into a random aisle seat and toss the pink notebook on the desk. You can’t believe you were worrying so much about getting caught when you couldn’t even execute the first part of the plan.

“Is this seat taken?”

You glance up at a finger pointing to the seat next to yours. The one pointing is none other than the boy you’ve been stressing over for the past 24 hours. How fucking convenient. But you know something’s up. There are plenty of other seats still up for grabs, and yet, he chose to sit right next to you? Unheard of. You figure it must be some sort of joke or bet, but you’ll take it. “No.”

“Cool,” he says, sliding his thighs through the walkway that’s always been too narrow for your liking. His duffle bag surely would have smacked you in the face if you hadn’t leaned back. When he finally settles into his seat, he deadass looks at your desk. “Cute notebook.”

Oh, you suppose that’s code for when a popular guy wants to take a picture of your lecture notes. But that’s too bad for him. “Thanks, but it’s not actually my notebook. I found it in the hallway yesterday and I’m looking for the owner.”

“Why not just bring it to the lost-and-found?” he chuckles. Now that you think about it, it does sound pretty weird, considering you don’t have the slightest clue as to who the notebook belongs to. “Do you at least know who the name of the person you’re looking for?”

“Not exactly,” you shrug. “But I figure it must belong to someone in this class.”

He gestures for you to hand it to him. So you do. All according to plan.

You watch as the boy’s eyes widen at the long list of names in the notebook. It’s only a matter of time before he sees a pattern and finds his own name written there.

“Is your name here too?” He continues to scan the list, page by page.

You shake your head.

“Does that mean you’re available?” The boy pulls out a pen from his backpack and clicks it.

“How’d you come to that conclusion?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Isn’t this like a list of all the couples at our school?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Right, right,” he nods, twirling his pen. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to write my name in there, aren’t you…?”

“Not necessarily.” He sets the pen down and chuckles at you with a smile. “Sometimes it’s just nice to get acquainted with the people around you. You might be surprised with the kinds of people you’ll meet in that way.”

Ah, there it is. There’s the charm that has everyone swooned.

“It’s Y/N,” you say softly. Half a second later, the boy picks up his pen and starts jotting shit down. “Hey, I thought you weren’t going to write my name down.”

You watch as Jungkook writes your name out next to his along with the description, “had a cute conversation during psych lecture.”

“I’m testing a theory,” he says.

“What theory?”

“What if this isn’t a just a weird kid’s record of couples at our school?”

“What is it then…?”

“A matchmaking machine? Like, if we write down the names of two people and an explanation of how they got together, maybe they’ll suddenly become a couple? Like magic,” he nods. You nod along, though you’re starting to think the boy has a screw loose. “I saw something like this in an anime once.”

“You mean… Death Note…?” Aka the anime where a smartass finds a death god’s notebook that can give people a death sentence just by writing their name down.

“Oh, so you’ve seen it too?”

You nod.

“I guess I’ll let you in on a little secret then.” He gestures for you to come closer. He whispers into your ear, “I’m the one who started the Love Note.”

“You’re the creep who wrote all of this?” you whisper-shout in his ear.

“No, no, no.” He waves his hands in defense. “I just helped get the ball rolling.”

“Please elaborate.” Because you don’t believe him yet.

“A few years back, my friend wanted to get back into dating after a tough breakup. But he didn’t know what kind of a girl he was looking for.” Jungkook flips back to the first page and points to Kim Seokjin’s name right at the very top. “So I took a notebook, wrote Love Note on the cover, wrote Seokjin’s name inside it, hid it somewhere around campus, and left the rest up to fate.”

“Are you saying the girl, Jiyeon, was the one who found the notebook and brought it back to Seokjin?”

“The same way you returned it to me, Y/N,” he nods. “After they got together, they filled out their section of the notebook, tagged another friend, and hid it again for someone else to find. The tradition continued amongst my friends, friends of friends, people I didn’t even know, until it finally found its way back to me.”

You get it now. It isn’t one creepy person’s notebook. It’s not witchcraft or a curse. It’s a curious object passed from person to person to spark a conversation and a potential relationship.

“So who wrote your name in it? And why?” You’d like to think someone like Jungkook doesn’t need a silly notebook to help him find a lover.

“My pal, Jung Hoseok. He said I’ve been looking lonely lately,” the boy says, glancing back at the list of presumably happy couples.

“Lonely despite always being surround by people who adore you?” Sounds ironic, but you think you know what he means.

“They don’t adore me. Just my face,” he sighs. Damn, what a struggle it must be to have a face as handsome as his. “I was hoping whoever found the notebook might adore more than what they see.”

“Sorry, can’t say that I do at the moment.” You use a teasing tone, but you aren’t lying either. What do you know about Jungkook other than the fact that he’s popular with a pretty face? That’s all you’ve ever judged him by. “I’m probably not the person you were hoping for.”

“You are who I was hoping for, Y/N,” he tilts his head when he speaks. “Adoring me is a bonus, but more importantly, I just wanted to meet someone I wouldn’t have otherwise met.”

Someone he wouldn’t have otherwise met? It’s true. The two of you probably wouldn’t be talking if it weren’t for the notebook. “I guess I fit that part of the criteria,” you say.

“Exactly.” He smiles at you as the lecture begins. You suppose only time will tell if you’ll come to also adore the boy as he so hopes.

-

As days, weeks, and even a month pass, you still have the Love Note in your possession. Recently, however, you get the feeling as though that’s about to change.

“Hey, Y/N,” says a familiar voice as a duffle bag claims the seat two spaces down from yours. The owner of the duffle bag follows, stepping into the seat right next to you from the row behind.

“Hello, Mr. I’m-too-cool-to-squeeze-through-the-aisle-like-a-normal-person,” you snicker at your psych buddy. Ever since you discovered Jungkook’s association to the Love Note, he’s made it a point to come find you during lecture. A month ago, you’d been sitting alone, and you’d still be sitting alone if you hadn’t stumbled upon the boy’s pink notebook. So you can’t say you aren’t enraptured by the gesture.

He chuckles at your fancy nickname for him before throwing an arm around your seat. You feel his eyes on you as you casually open the Love Note and scan the list.

“How many of these couples do you think are still together?” you ask, looking up and accidentally catching him staring at your lips. The new lip gloss you bought must be working.

“I’m sure not all of them are,” Jungkook strokes his wise man beard. “But all the people I personally know from the list are still going strong.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“It’s the fate of the Love Note, duh Y/N,” he gives you a cute little pinch on your cheek. “Our names are written there, and we’re still together, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but we’re not together together… yet.” You try your best to get the boy to take a hint.

“Well, if anything, the Love Note has the power to bring two people together who wouldn’t otherwise be together, right?” he says. “Because of it, I learned I like being around someone who’s honest, open-minded, and adores me for more than just my face.”

You can’t help but smile at his compliment. He’s too sweet for you to handle. “How can you be so sure that I adore more than just your face?”

“Because you’ve put up with me for a whole month,” he chuckles. “And because you sent me a drunk text the other night, confessing your heart out to me.”

“I did what?” You fumble to get your phone out of your bag and check your messages. Was it possible to get so drunk that you don’t even remember getting drunk in the first place?

“I’m kidding, Y/N.” If there’s one thing you learned in the past month, it’s that Jungkook loves to tease you. But if it gets him to smile like that all the time, you don’t mind being a little gullible. “I’m still waiting for a proper confession.”

You look into the boy’s big eyes and then back at the bottom of the list where both of your names are written. “Should we make it official then?”

“I’m already ahead of you.” Clicking his pen, Jungkook adds a tiny little heart to the end of the foreshadowing he had written a month ago. He then writes the name of his single friend Park Jimin on the line below, shuts the notebook, and hands it back to you.

After lecture, Jungkook pulls you by the hand and leads you to the building where Jimin’s class should be ending. As the two of you wait for him to walk out, you feel yourself gravitating more and more to the boy until both of your arms are latched around his. You never realized how much you love the feeling of having someone so close to you.

“Is this the one you’ve been smitten over?” The boy you assume to be Jimin points in your direction. You look to Jungkook for an answer.

“Yes, this is the one,” he says, giving your hand a good squeeze. “Now we just need to find someone special for you.”

“Like who?” Jimin asks. “I can’t seem to keep a relationship for over a week.”

“We might have a solution for you,” Jungkook says as you show the other boy the Love Note. And despite his initial hesitance, Jimin eventually agrees to partake in the tradition after seeing the effect it had on you and his pal.

“Should we leave it here?” you ask Jungkook after saying farewell to Jimin and finding a cozy bench to sit on.

“Are you sure you’re ready to let it go?” He smirks at how you’ve held onto what you had initially thought of as a creepy ass notebook. You nod. “Okay, we’ll leave it here.”

He helps you set it down off to the side, leaning in for what you anticipate to be the first of many kisses between you and him. Just before giving you a taste, however, he stops to examine the sheen over your lips. “Is that new lip gloss?”

You nod, prompting the boy to lean back. “It’s cute,” he says.

For a second, you just blink at him and he blinks back as though he wasn’t about to kiss you. Oh, you get it. He’s teasing you again.

Taking the boy’s hand, you make the bold move yourself, pressing your lips ever so softly against his. Just enough to give him a taste of the gloss you’d picked out with him in mind.

After teasing you some more for being so bold, Jungkook helps you up from the bench as the two of you head home. Leaving the Love Note behind, you understand now that the divide between popular boys like him and average folks like you was never a curse bestowed upon you by fate. Rather, it was up to you to take fate into your own hands and spin it in your favor.

That all began the moment you picked up that pink notebook.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #jungkook fluff #jungkook college au #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jungkook #bts #bangtan #love note

[vanaera]

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝟎𝟏 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

Synopsis: A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case. 

Characters: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre/AU: Sci-fi, mystery, angst, action, romance (cop!JK x artist!you), based on the movie Minority Report

Wordcount: 11k

Warnings: Dark themes and implied smut (in future chapters); heavy descriptions of a hit-and-run; mentions of blood from injuries and violent crimes (PG-16 Rating)

A/N | This fic is for @btswritingcafe​’s Map of The Soul Workshop!

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

              The pavement was cold beneath his cheek. The gravel, sharp, and the smell of the after-rain, acrid. Jungkook peels his eyes open. They hang too heavy and the task seemed almost a century-worth effort. However, he’s glad he got his lids up because he could now see what’s in front of him. His right foot is stuck underneath the pedal. The windshield was broken, the spiderweb of glass fragments racing from the right corner. When he looks to his left, the car window is shattered. The car was toppled over. The pungent smell of gas is filling his nostrils. Something feels wet on his head. He raises his hand to his temple. When he pulls it away, there’s a scarlet smear on his palm. He’s bleeding.

              Jungkook pulls the seatbelt free. He falls further into the ceiling of the car, grunting from the metal appendages poking into his shoulder. He pulls his torso up and starts to make his way out. His joints were screaming and Jungkook could feel his ligaments were tearing apart. His right arm is numb even if there are huge glass shards impaled in his skin. But Jungkook keeps on, dragging his skin across the sharp gravelly road. One after another, he elbows his way away from the wrecked-down car seat. But his upper limbs were not enough to pull his foot free from the crushed console. Jungkook grunts. 

              And then, there’s a siren.

              Jungkook turns to his left. Tires screech on the rough road. A blue sedan swivels and parks right in front of him. Lights sweep on the ground. Jungkook feels it’s similar to the lights that are being reflected by the broken windshield. He couldn’t see much but he feels he’s being blinded.

              The car door slams shut. A figure is moving towards him. Jungkook squints his eyes but he cannot see any face. The blood running down his temple must have streamed down to his pupils. All he sees right now is red.

              Loose gravels crunch under leather soles. The figure hovers above him. And then Jungkook feels his torso being lifted, his legs dangling lifelessly beneath him. He feels a strong pull on his shoulder and then there’s a tug. His stuck foot is now free. 

              The unknown man sets him inside the passenger side. Soon, he’s sitting in the driver’s seat. He pulls away from the car wreckage on the road. And then, he looks at him.

              “Don’t worry. It’s alright. You’re alright. I’ll get you help.”

              Jungkook looks at the man. He starts to see a glimpse of sandy blonde hair in a pompadour, a small button nose, and a pointed jaw. But they’re not enough to recognize him when red still fills the large expanse of his vision.

              The man pushes the stick to the second gear. “I’m Kim Namjoon.”

              “Wh-who?”

              “Namjoon.” A beat. “Your bestfriend.”

              “My bestfriend?”

              “Yeah,” Namjoon turns his eyes back on the road. “You’ll remember me once we get to the hospital. Now, just sit and rest.”

              A bright light is directed to his eyes. It’s so bright he couldn’t tell if it’s even white. But at least, it’s no longer red.

              “His eyes are alright,” a woman in her late forties informs. She’s wearing a pristine white coat over a green set of shirt and pants. Jungkook thinks he must be now in a hospital. He doesn’t remember exactly when he woke up. All he recalls from the past minutes is the blinding light and the piercing stench of iodoform.

              “Thank God,” a deep voice says. Jungkook looks to his left and he sees the man who picked him up. Now that everything seems more illuminated now, he could see the familiar curve of the man’s smile. His droopy eyes, tall frame, long limbs, and even the small indent of dimples on his skinny cheeks. It really is Namjoon.

              The doctor nods. “Yeah, he got lucky. Just a few cuts, scratches, and bruises. Even if his right foot was stuck in the vehicle, not one ligament was damaged, lest pulled. He would be walking like normal once he gets enough rest.” The woman looks at him, “But he has an arm to tend to. He needs to get it bandaged and cleaned from time to time.”

              Jungkook follows the doctor’s gaze onto his arm. A thick white gauze covers the skin from his wrist to his elbow.

              “It’s not much of a worry,” Namjoon smiles. “He lives with me. He’s in safe hands.”

              The doctor pulls her lips in a relieved smile. “Glad to know that. He’ll need someone to help him clean it. The wound was not too deep but it’s pretty stretched wide. We gave him 15 stitches.” The door tucks her clipboard beneath her elbow. “Have him back here after two weeks. We have to get the stitches out.”

              “Okay, doc,” Namjoon nods and sends the woman a grateful smile.

              “Okay. I’ll leave you here with him, then. He just needs rest, then he can go home tomorrow,” The doctor claps Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon thanks and the doctor finally pulls the green curtains close behind her.

              “Namjoon.”

              Namjoon turns to him, scoffing lightly. “So, you remember me now?” The small smile that starts to grow on his face falls flat when he sees Jungkook pierce him with a questioning glare. Namjoon sits on the stool next to him.

              Jungkook clears his throat. He looks straight into his friend’s eyes, “What happened?”

              “I think you shouldn’t be worrying about that first. You need to rest—”

              “What happened, Namjoon?”

              Namjoon closes his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Well…you got hit. Your car received most of the impact on the right side. It drove your car rolling over for probably how many times considering the wreck I found you in. You know, it’s a wonder you only got an injured arm, considering your seatbelt was the only one that saved you from the hit.  Your airbag didn’t work. You hit your head on the window but there’s only a small wound.” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, “Look, the Organization will assign you to another car so you don’t have to worry about paying for the damages. After all, it happened during your patrol and the airbag was—”

              “Who hit me?”

              Namjoon stops. He looks at Jungkook and then to his side. He keeps his mouth shut.

              Jungkook purses his lips. “Namjoon, who hit me?”

              Namjoon keeps his mouth shut.

              Jungkook sighs, “You know I just got the Winston assassination case back on track. This person is probably highly involved in it—considering I’ve made quite a scene about the warrants—

              “Jungkook, we don’t know who hit you.”

              Jungkook gapes. “Ho—How could you not know? Forecrime has high chances to be in the timeframe before the crash—” 

              “Forecrime was unable to predict the crime.”

              “What?”

              Namjoon looks down at his hands. “Accident Prevention Sector reported they didn’t see any officer getting involved in a hit and run today.”

              Jungkook tongues his cheek.

              Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, this is probably just human error in the Division. We had the same problem in the Johnston home murders and the Kim crime family drug buy-bust.” Namjoon releases a sigh, “I already reported what happened to the FJO. From what I heard, they’re asking to check into the CCTVs in Somerset Road. Where your car was found. They’re just unable to do so tonight because the maintenance office is already closed. They’ll probably have something by tomorrow.”

              Jungkook nods slowly. “Under which division was this case filed?”

              “Precrime.”

              “Who’s taking over it?”

              “Property and Crime Scene’s Mark Benson.”

              Jungkook sits up straight. “Transfer him to another case. Hand me this one.”

              Namjoon stands up and places his hands on the man’s shoulder, stopping him from further leaving the bed. “Jungkook, you’re injured. You need to rest for a while.”

              “Yeah, but the doctor said I will be fine by tomorrow. I can go to work tomorrow then.”

              “Yes, tomorrow.” Namjoon glares at him, “Tomorrow isn’t now. Nor will it be for the next days to come because you need to heal your arm first. So, let Mark handle this one. Plus, you’ve not yet closed the Winston case. It would be too tiresome to handle two cases at the same time.”

              Jungkook takes Namjoon’s hands off him. “If some son of a bitch easily got away from destroying my car and putting me in this,” he gestures to his arm, “I’d rather be the one to catch him myself. Please do me a favor and put me in charge of the case? Pre-crime’s handling it. I’m a captain in Precrime.” Jungkook purses his lips. “This is just my hypothesis but the hit-and-run doesn’t sound like a mere hit-and-run. It happened at Somerset Road. It’s too coincidental to take place at Somerset of all places. The culprit must be backed up by some technology to escape Forecrime right under their noses.” Jungkook grabs Namjoon's arm. “This could even be Winston’s assassin I’ve been tracking down for years. He has a history of using technology that took advantage of the weak points of FJO’s system.  Please, Namjoon? You’re in the Bureau. You have jurisdiction over the divisions. You can easily convince them and get me to head the case.”

              “Yes,” Namjoon hisses, “but I’m just an analyst in there.”

              “You’re not just an analyst if Lieutenant Kim unofficially hails you to be his adviser. You helped Seokjin resolve a lot of issues between the two divisions. You’re personally close to him. You even got invited to his wedding.” 

              Namjoon blows out a frustrated sigh. 

              “Does that mean a ‘yes’?”

              “What else will it mean?” the man rolls his eyes. “You know so well how to rope me into your schemes.” He stands up and fixes his friend’s bed.

              Jungkook leans back on the pillow, “Of course, you’re my bestfriend.”

              “Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon drawls, tucking the sheets to Jungkook’s chest. He reaches for the remote, pressing the button to get the bed to recline. 

              “Namjoon.”

              The man turns to the captain.

              Jungkook smiles, “Thank you.”

              Namjoon could only nod. 

              The Federal Justice Organization stands in the middle of the Metropolis Complex. Surrounded by towering buildings of corporations and business centers, the Organization is only five stories high. However, it occupies a large 20-hectare area, the largest in the complex. With two buildings that wing at the sides of the main facade, the Organization envelops the economic hotspot of the city, seemingly like a foundation of security.

              The FJO is a matrix of floor-to-ceiling windows separated by layers of metal and concrete walkways. Everything is visible to anyone who’s standing at the façade. Officers in their black protective gears rushing past each other, helmets tucked underneath their elbows. Detectives busy on their phones and stacks of case folders. Interns running high and down with trolleys of files behind them, some even holding coffee cups. Higher-ups in their revered badge-infested uniforms wearing grim faces as team captains follow behind them.

              And from the main lobby of the Organization, Jungkook could see Matthew Andrews looking at him from the walk-bridge above him. Jungkook takes the lift in front of him. He walks toward the man and salutes. “Chief.”

              Matthew salutes back. He places his hands behind his back again. “I heard about what happened last night.”

              “Ah, yes, sir,” Jungkook mutters. He tucks his bandaged arm behind him. “Just a minor accident. The wound isn’t that deep.”

              Matthew nods slowly. “That’s good to know. Though I still would want you to stay at home for a while to heal. You must still be in shock.”

              “Oh no, I’m not,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’ve been through worse. This is just like a scratch. I can’t afford to miss a day at work. After all, the Winston case I’m heading is still media-hot.”

              “You’re right.” Matthew looks at the bustling people in the lobby. “Work doesn’t seem to stop when you’re in here. Skipping a day is a privilege on-standby that we never get to use. Not when our work seems to follow us wherever we go. Right?”

              “Yes, sir.” Jungkook nods.

              Matthew turns back to him, “I also heard the Bureau transferred your hit and run case to you.”

              Jungkook gives a tight smile. “Yes, sir. I think the Bureau thought it would be best if I handle the case. I have a hunch it’s connected with the Winston case.”

              “The Bureau’s lieutenant said the same.” Matthew steps to him and claps his shoulder. “I’m just glad your injuries are not that serious, son.”

              “Yes, sir. Me, too.” Jungkook smiles.

              Matthew steps back, sending him one last smile, “Good luck with the case, son.”

              “Thank you, sir,” Jungkook bids him goodbye. Matthew heads to the central lift. He nods at him before the metal doors close, and soon, Jungkook is alone again. Sighing, Jungkook fixes the cuffs of his jacket down to his wrists and heads for the Left-wing. 

              The Precrime Division is located at the West of the FJO Headquarters. The Murder sector, the second office to be reached from the Left-wing lift. With a 150 square feet area, Jungkook’s office is wide enough to accommodate his whole team without them frequently bumping into each other. At the same time, it is still small enough to effectively work around their tools. Jungkook’s desk is set against the glass wall that separates their sector from Organized Crime’s. Meanwhile, his team’s desks are stationed across his, next to the glass wall of Homicide’s. A metal “chute” is built on the innermost right corner. It’s boxy in structure and looks akin like the previous generation’s take on a fireplace. Except, the opening of the chute is placed much higher, above waist level. It’s used for message coordination among the different sectors. East-west to this metalwork is a huge glass board, fastened on a wooden compartment-panel that broke the series of glass walls in the middle. Despite the space provided to them, Jungkook thinks it’s still less than enough when one case is enough to immediately fill up the entire glass board with open files, their office, with all the team members. 

              Unlike today. Jungkook plops down on his swivel chair. He thinks it is the first time their glass board is not filled to the brim as he flips open the file case of the Winston assassination.

              Jonathan Winston was the Chief General of FJO from 2015 to 2031, renowned for his pristine-clean reputation in his forty years of work. With numerous foundations supporting masses of the poor working class, Winston was a favorite of the people. Especially after he busted out the celebrated pork barrel scam of three Department of Justice’s heads in 2025. When Winston aimed for a position in the Senatorial board in 2032, he didn’t have to worry anymore about getting re-elected for the following term.

              That is until August 15, 2047. He was sitting in a restaurant with his family when at 12:30, a gun was shot and Winston falls face-first onto the table with a gaping wound between his eyebrows. It was a field day for the reporters. Assassination in front of numerous potential witnesses in broad daylight and yet no identity of the culprit was found. All the witnesses, including Winston’s family, have different descriptions of the suspect, producing different faces. FJO can’t even trace if there was a mastermind behind the whole crime because no aberrant paper or electronic trail was found. The crime scene was spotless of any fingerprint, and so are the places probable to be the suspect’s hideout before and after the crime. 

              This is one of the biggest, and difficult, cases Jungkook ever handled. For despite the extensive collaboration between traveling agents of Precrime and Forecrime, FJO only ended up with a gunman they cannot indict. The organization saw similarities in the Winston assassination case with previous cases concerning an elusive gunman with an unidentifiable face: Leigh Anderson. The style of murder, his long background of numerous violent crimes, his reported hate on the New-Age Government, his notable appearances in the vicinity of his victims before their time of death—it all matched up to be too coincidental. Even his known victims’ descriptions of him cannot produce one exact face at all.

              However, all of these are mere circumstantial evidence to the court for no singular physical description, fingerprint, or handwriting of Anderson is legitimate enough to be presented against him. Even after FJO has adapted a state-of-the-art technology in 2051, the lack of justice in Winston’s assassination continued to bear heavy criticisms against the organization. No agent in FJO was able to get into the exact time frame of the murder to provide the most convincing evidence in court: a crime record, the FJO-validated video of, or any event related to, the actual crime. 

              Until July 12 of 2059, exactly three weeks ago, when Captain Jeon Jungkook accidentally got into the timeframe of the Winston assassination while traveling for a different murder case. With the crime record of the whole travel, the clear shot of the crime, and the full image of the gunman to serve as solid evidence, Jungkook easily got the cold Winston case back on track. He’s even backed up by testimonies of Leigh’s sister and brother-in-law who divulged that Leigh has a history of cocaine addiction and gang involvement five years prior to the assassination. But, these never lightened the burden of the case. After Precrime succeeded in placing the warrant of arrest on their long-suspected gunman, Leigh Anderson suddenly disappeared. Disappeared like thin air, without any kind of trail left behind. Off-grid even to FJO’s state of the art technology.

              Jungkook pulls out the papers about Anderson’s history. He scans through the file.

              “…Ms. Anne Rowanson said she heard Anderson scream in the floor above her. When she let herself in his unit, concerned, she saw nothing but sheets of newspapers flying in the wind.”

              “…It’s like he’s there but suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. And yet you could still feel his presence on your skin.”

              “He’s always been a strange man….talked about a lot of sponsors, but never once mentioning their name.”

              “…got an affinity for cars. Said he loves to crash them. He has a history with notorious car-crashing gangs.”

              “James Kim said he’s violent. He said Leigh didn’t show any remorse on his face when he attempted to run him over with his car.”

              “…Heavy breathing on the other line. Traced the number to a device that doesn’t actually exist.”

              When Jungkook flips through their other file folder for Anderson, he ends up with the same information. Anderson suddenly disappears like thin air so conveniently at his supposed day of arrest. He’s got a lot of anonymous sponsors from the black market. He’s violent and he likes to send anonymous calls to his victims who survived, only to let them hear his heavy breathing on the line. 

              All of it fits too perfectly with the hit and run case. Anderson is likely to be supported by a big body rich enough to give him technology for time-traveling that could be at-par with FJO’s. Anderson is a likely suspect to hit Jungkook’s car beyond repair, its wreckage too great to be done by an amateur crasher.  And, Anderson hates him. This Jungkook is sure of the day he announced to the media Anderson’s warrant of arrest. He called Jungkook’s personal phone that night to announce his identity and scream “I hate you,” “I’m going to fucking kill you,” and “you’re still two steps behind me no matter what you do,” again and again. When Jungkook traced the call, it all led to a nonexistent device, just like the statements of his previous victims.

              Leigh Anderson must have used an illegal time-traveling technology last night, crashed right into Jungkook’s car before disappearing into thin air again, fulfilling his act of vengeance.

              Jungkook clicks his tongue. He’s sent Hoseok Jung and Mark Lee earlier to the maintenance office of Somerset Road to retrieve the CCTV files. Although he’s yet to see the videos, Jungkook thinks there’s no other plausible reason for what happened last night other than Leigh Anderson’s doing. Everything aligns too perfectly with Anderson’s history to be coincidental.

              The alarm suddenly rings. The light set above the chute flashes red. From the corner of Jungkook’s eye, he sees Jimin Park shoot up from his seat. Jungkook quickly follows suit. The metal doors open, the machine pushing a medium-sized red expandable envelope onto the receiving mouth of the Murder Sector’s chute. Jimin retrieves the folder and opens it. He pulls a chartreuse glass file from the envelope and slides it onto a slot on the glass board. He faces Jungkook. “Captain Jeon, red file, Forecrime, Future Murder Sector. Traveling agent in charge is Joanna Sy, crime record validated by traveling agents Steve Meyer, Ara Lee, and Nick Holbert. This is case number 5041. Murder by assassination. Victim’s name is James Kim.”

              Jungkook’s eyes widen.

              “The suspect is…Leigh Anderson.”

              Jungkooks slides in his gloves and dashes to the glass board. The wooden compartment behind the board slides open. Two black screens alight to show a live video conference with a short-haired blonde woman in a maroon blazer and a man in his late fifties wearing a black suit.

              Jungkook salutes. “Good morning. I’m Jungkook Jeon, captain of the Murder Sector of Precrime Division. This is case number 5041, murder by assassination of victim James Kim by suspect Leigh Anderson. Recorded by Forecrime Future Murder Sector traveling agent Joanna Sy, validated by traveling agents Steve Meyer, Ara Lee, and Nick Holbert. My witnesses to the crime record gathered by the Federal Justice Organization are Chief Justice Stephanie Park and Chief General Matthew Anderson. Will the witnesses view and validate the crime record at this time?” 

              “Witness appeal granted.”

              The glass board lights up and a video starts playing with the sound of honking cars in the city. The huffs of Joanna can be heard as Jungkook and the rest in the room see everything happening in Joanna’s eyes. She climbs up a bemired, dark staircase in some dingy apartment complex. When a large thud resonates from the floor above, Joanna sprints. 

              She runs through a dark hallway. The doors of the apartment are locked shut, save for one that’s situated right next to the door where the thud probably came from. Joanna slips in and scampers through the empty apartment. When she reaches the open balcony, she crouches down and hides beside the thick wall extension. 

              From her place, Leigh Anderson’s face is crystal clear visible as he’s crouched on his own balcony, body flat on the ground, fingers wrapped around his sniper. Joanna attempts to follow Anderson’s line of target only to land on an empty alleyway crammed between two dilapidated buildings. It’s empty until a man swings the door of a bar open and pops into the vicinity. Joanna zooms in her glasses. It’s James Kim.

              Joanna whips her head back to Anderson. He pulls the trigger. Screams resonate from a distance. Joanna turns back to the alley. James is on the floor, head bloodied. 

              The record stops.

              Jungkook turns around, “Jimin, time of the crime?”

              “10:46.”

              Jungkook looks at the time on the board. 10:16. They only have exactly thirty minutes. There’s more time. Jungkook hovers his hand on the glass board and swipes through the crime record. Joanna’s at a dirty, old apartment complex exactly facing an alleyway with two dilapidated buildings. He swipes forward and back through the video until his eyes are caught by something on the window. He sees towering, shining buildings standing on one side, smaller, dirtier establishments on the other, seemingly creating two columns in the open window. 

              Jungkook shouts. “Suspect location is at Middle Town! Get me a list of Middle Town apartment complexes.” 

              “Yes, sir,” Johnny Kim hollers, clicking through his computer. He dashes to the glass board and slides a grey glass file into the slot below the one containing the crime record. Jungkook nods at him and sweeps his gloved hand over the apartment list to bring them right next to the playing crime record. Jungkook pauses the record the exact moment Joanna assesses the empty apartment she hid in. Small studio type, gray metal balcony wiring, dull gray cemented flooring, and a huge window by the bedside, the large billboard of the Federal Justice Organization in a great view. Jungkook switches to the apartment complexes. He flips through them until he sees three complexes with probable ample view of the FJO billboard from their windows. Maria Residences, Sunset Place, Riverside Homes. All of them just stand near the billboard. He can’t tell if they are facing an alleyway. Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The architecture of the room, who could have designed this?”

              Jess Thomson speaks up from her computer, “It looks like Danny White. He’s known for modern designs and his unproportioned large windows are his signature. His designs proliferated in the late 2020s.” Jess looks at the captain, “but almost every establishment in Middle Town has incorporated this style. White was the go-to man for middle-class housing.”

              “Okay,” Jungkook swipes his fingers upward on the glass board, capturing a still-frame of the room. He swipes left and Johnny retrieves the blank grey disk where the picture was sent and hands it to Jess. “Check more details in the design and tell me what you could get,” Jungkook orders.  

              “Yes, sir.”

              “Sir, ten minutes have passed,” Taehyung Kim reminds. Jungkook just nods.

              Jungkook plays the video again and stops at James Kim’s location. Black gravelly alleyway. Worn out buildings with cracking paint. The door swings open and out comes James. He is stumbling, possibly drunk. Just before Joanna’s perspective goes back to Anderson, Jungkook pauses the video and zooms in. James is reaching over to something that looks like a beat-up human-sized box. It’s blurry but Jungkook could make out a hand resting beneath the glass façade of the red box.  

              “A carnival ticketing booth stand,” Jungkook announces, “It’s an entrance to a small downtown carnival.”

              “There are only two areas with that kind of vintage, cheap entertainment,” Jess informs, “Middle-high Streets and Holiday Avenue. But Middle-high is more of June Lee than Danny White. So it has to be Holiday Avenue.”

              “Sunset Place.” Jungkook hollers as he zips up his protective gear, “The future crime scene is at Sunset Place.” He marches to the hallway, Murder Sector’s Task-Action head agents following behind.  “Taehyung, flight time?”

              “Ten minutes. We’ve got fifteen minutes left, sir.”

              Jungkook nods and steps into the clear narrow glass-cased metal lift at the end of the hallway. Taehyung and the rest of the agents occupy the rest of the compartments. The lifts lock shut and propel them down the building and onto the Task-Action Agency Office.

              In no time, Jungkook and his team and a number of Task-Action agents are zooming on the streets. By 10:38, the wheels of their vans are screeching into a stop in front of Sunset Place. The Task-Action agents pile out and soon, Jungkook and his team are climbing up the staircase they have seen in the crime record. Two sets of the flight of steps and then they’re running onto the dark hallway. Some of the agents have positioned themselves in front of Anderson’s door. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s team enters the empty room where Joanna has hidden, steps soundless on the naked concrete despite the heavy equipment hanging on their protective gears. Jungkook raises a closed fist and the agents hold their places by the door. Jungkook crouches, inching nearer to the wall extension. He looks at his watch. 10:43. 

              Jungkook breathes out and peeks at the other side. Leigh Anderson is lying on his stomach, fingers poised around his sniper. Just like the crime record. Jungkook presses the button on his contact device. Leigh’s door bursts open and the agents rushing steps reverberate through the walls. Jungkook whips out his gun, stepping from his hiding place. “FJO, freeze!—”

              Gunshot.

              Leigh Anderson is on the floor, slumped over his sniper. His head is blown up, blood splattered on the white tiles of the balcony, some even painted on the metal railings. A Glock 19 pistol on his left hand.

              “It’s a suicide,” Taehyung mouths at him but Jungkook doesn’t hear anything.

              He slumps forward on the balcony. His suspect is dead before he could even arrest him.

              “Here’s the CCTVs we retrieved, sir,” Hoseok Jung informs, sliding an ice-blue glass disk into the glass board.

              Jungkook nods, but his mind doesn’t comprehend what the agent said at all. He’s reeling back to the scene at Sunset Place. Chief General Andrews telling him the Winston case is off. Open and left cold again, probably for good this time. 12 years of hard work all for nothing. Jeon Jungkook finds it hard to swallow. It cannot end just like that. Anderson is definitely backed up by someone powerful. For all God knows, that benefactor has supported a lot of professional gunmen and another round of murders will start just like Anderson’s doing. Jungkook told Andrews about this, even almost pleaded. But the Chief General only sympathetically clasped his shoulder and told him to let it go.

              “The Department of Justice called and wanted us to stop and leave it open for now. Even if I wanted to go with your hunch, we can’t do anything more when our only lead is now dead. Let it go, son,” Matthew closes his eyes, sighing, “Things like this do happen. The Unsolved Crimes sector won’t exist if it hadn’t been the case…We’ve still got enough cases on our plate to handle.”  

              It’s easier said than done. Jungkook can’t just let go of the case he’s headed for 12 years. 12 years he spent chasing after a suspect they cannot indict even when everyone knows he’s the culprit. 12 years he’s been mocked by a disgusting criminal only to let him have the last laugh by getting out of the case the easy way. Leigh Anderson was just within arms’ reach. For 12 years, Jungkook longed for this exact moment. And yet all he can do is just let it go? No, Jungkook, won’t have that. He can’t just let everything he’s worked hard for go down the drain so easily. He can’t—

              “It’s not Leigh Anderson.”

              Jungkook stops. He raises his face from his head from his closed hand. “What?”

              “It’s not Leigh Anderson,” Hoseok repeats.

              “What do you mean?”

              Hoseok pauses the video. The image of Jungkook’s silver-gray Ford speeding along Somerset Road fills the frame of the glass-board. In the right corner of the crossroad, is an incoming black Jaguar, its license plate too blurred to recognize anything but its first number “1.” The right corner of the frame shows it was 20:23:40, August 1. 

              Hoseok hits play, and the Jaguar picks up speed, colliding into the right side of the Ford. It sent the car rolling over three times. At 20:23:50, the Jaguar continues on and disappears into the frame. Another tape rolls in and a CCTV mounted on a post near the road where Jungkook’s car came from.  Just like the first one, it shows how the Jaguar crashed right into the Ford before driving away. The Jaguar drives off, continuing from where the first clip has lost contact of it. However, at exactly 20:24, the Jaguar completely disappears. Right in the middle of the road. Vanished into thin air. Caught by the CCTV.

              When the next tape of another CCTV rolls in, no car passed Somerset from 20:31 until 20:46, when Namjoon’s car, a blue 80’s sedan zips through the road and stops at Jungkook’s car. At 21:03, the FJO has made its way to the car wreckage. Until at the end of the film on August 2, 11:45, the black Jaguar did not re-appear.

              “This…is not Anderson’s doing?”

              “Yes, sir. Well, as far as this evidence presents, it’s not him.” Hoseok rewinds the video and pauses at the 20:23:44 mark. The image of the Jaguar is back on screen. Hoseok zooms in. Jungkook gapes.

              There’s almost no one on the wheel if Jungkook were to quickly look at it. But Jungkook did not, and in his seat, he makes out a silhouette. Its face was hidden in the dark and some parts of its body are blurred out. Even with these, Jungkook could see that the silhouette is slim and has thick, long limbs. Totally unlike Leigh Anderson. Leigh was overweight and sported a huge belly and large flabby arms.

              “…What is this?”

              “It’s the same question running in our heads, sir.” Hoseok looks at him, “All we know is that it’s definitely not Anderson.”

              There are three blue pills left in the clear bottle. Jungkook pours them all onto his palm and downs them all in one go. When he puts down the bottle, his eyes travel to the city outside, drowning in the heavy downpour.

              The city looks the same. Streetlights remain vibrant despite the blur of the thick raindrops. Some buildings still have their lights up in this ungodly hour. The majority of them have long darked out, blending with the ravenous night sky. Only the streets stay lit up but that seems hopeful when he’s seen them flicker in minute intervals. A few cars pass by. Jungkook can’t expect it to be the opposite, though. The buildings in Middle Town stay short under the shadows of the distant ones of the Metropolis.  It’s always been like this. Jungkook doesn’t need to look at the window across the room to see the other side completely lit up by various apparatuses known to humankind. The difference between the Middle Town and Metropolis never fails to make itself known to him no matter how high their residence lies in the boundary.  

              The only thing that’s similar between the two is the humongous billboard that sits atop the crest of each district. Of course, the Metropolis had a bigger one than Middle Town. Nevertheless, they’re still one and the same. Jungkook could tell because it’s just 15 meters away from his place on both sides.

              “In a world where everything seems to progress forward, there’s only one thing we hope won’t rush past us too soon. Nine years ago, various violent crimes have spread over the country in epidemic ratios. It seemed a miracle could be the only hope we’ll have. But instead of a miracle, we’re given a more tangible blessing: the time jumpers. When Allen McGregor and his assistant, Chisoo Kim, invented these novel devices that could let humans travel in the past and future, the Federal Justice Organization renovated itself and ensured the devices will fall onto good hands. Now with the ability to see the past and the future, the New-Age Federal Justice Organization has easily prevented crimes from happening and even solved the ones that have long scarred us for years. With just one month under the improved FJO program, the crime rates in the country have dramatically dropped to 95 percent. In a year, FJO has brought justice to every case left open in the 2000s and has prevented more crimes from ever happening. In the eight years, FJO has run their new system, there’s never been a crime that threatened the stability of our nation. The Federal Justice Organization, our nation’s salvation of justice.”

              Jungkook tears his eyes from the billboard. They land on the picture frame that sits atop his desk. Warm brown doe eyes, short stubby arms, a bunny-tooth smile. Jungkook feels like he’s looking at a mirror. Bile rises to his throat. He turns the frame down. It’s not enough. Jungkook stands up and tosses it on the table containing his mess of papers and folders.

              His eyes are burning. When he holds a hand over them, he realizes there were only tears.

              Jungkook places his badge face-down on the metal post. After that, he places his face on the monitor and lets it scan his eyes. A beep and the Federal Justice Organization’s glass doors slide open and Jungkook secures his coat on his shoulder as he walks in the lobby. When he reaches the main hallway, he’s met by the grim face of Matthew Andrews.

              “Someone from the Department of Justice was sent over to take our system away from us. He’s in the Left-wing now.”

              Jungkook quickens his pace. The Chief General follows behind, “Apparently, a time jumper was found messing around FJO’s system. DOJ traced it back to Precrime.”

              Jungkook halts. Matthew continues, “Apparently, they’ve been studying about aberrant appearances and disappearances of a car on cam. A black Jaguar with an unidentifiable driver. Their reports stated it started on July 15—three days right after the media televised your warrants against Leigh Anderson. What bothered them is the Jaguar’s pattern of disappearances. It’s completely similar to the traveling pattern of Precrime’s agents.” Matthew sighs. “The DOJ is going to turn up FJO upside-down in the following days. They’re gonna check on Forecrime and they’re going to take over the coordinating system of the Investigation Bureau, preventing it from mediating any interactions between the two divisions. But most of all, they’re gonna target Precrime. Especially your sector. This new case seems to be connected to Winston’s.” 

              Jungkook’s eyes widen. Matthew runs a hand over his face, “From what I could see, they’re already suspecting Precrime’s high-ranking officials. Probably even of Winston’s assassination. The untimely death of Leigh Anderson is worthy of suspicion of an inside job to them.”

              Matthew faces Jungkook. “You know the FJO has been hot in the eyes of the people these days because of the Winston case. A week from now, people are going to vote whether our new system is noble enough to continue for the next eight years. I can’t have DOJ flooring our system’s reputation, son. Moreso your very sector.”

              Jungkook nods, “Yes, sir, I understand.”

              “Jungkook,” Matthew holds his arm, “Keep an eye on this Yoongi Min—the auditor. Answer all of his questions. Let him look around. Satisfy his curiosity. But, be wary of him. DOJ hasn’t told much of how they will conduct their investigation but I think they’ve already got their men inside and it seems this Yoongi is gonna be heading it all. Whatever happens, good news or not, make sure to report them all to me. And if there’s any problem, ensure that we are the first ones to know.”

              “Yes, sir,” Jungkook salutes. Andrews fondly claps his shoulder and Jungkook immediately heads to the Murder Sector’s Office.

              When he swings the glass door open, he’s met by his team standing apprehensively around a man in his late thirties. He’s standing at 5’7, sporting platinum blonde hair, thin-rimmed glasses, and navy tweed suit.

              “Red files are for emergency ones—murders of passion or unprecedented murders late detected by Forecrime. Black is for premeditated murders—first-degree murders. Gray is for second-degree, maroon is for felony murders. And brown files like this one are for homicides,” Jimin hands the blonde man the folder. 

              The man nods, opening the folder to skim through a past case. After a minute he closes it shut. “But you’re still technically arresting people based on a future prediction of your co-workers aided by human-made and -operated devices.”

              “Yes,” Jimin acknowledges. “These are the revised legalistic methodology of FJO as per the advice of Allen McGregor and his assistant Chisoo Kim. They were the inventors of this system but before that, they were lawyers.”

              “How can you tell the system they’ve created is impossible of making inaccurate foreseen futures?”

              “They don’t make mistakes,” Jimin assures. “The crime records seen by the Forecrime traveling agents in the future are validated by other traveling agents who have seen the same outcome. There has never been a wrong crime record in eight years. Sure, there may be inconsistencies in how the crime was done with the one viewed in the crime records. But the suspects seen in the future remain as suspects and they will still do the deed one way or another. Plus, the suspects’ motivations were checked on by Precrime’s traveling agents.”

              “But what if a suspect decided not to forgo the crime?” the blonde man insists. “People are complex. We are capable of changing our minds at the last second. Can Forecrime even acknowledge a possible alternate future where this person backed out of a crime? Does Precrime really look at all the angles of these motivations you talk about?

              “Forecrime and Precrime do all of those things because of our belief in predestination,” Jungkook finally interrupts, reaching a hand out. “I’m Jungkook Jeon, captain of Precrime, Murder Sector. You must be Yoongi Min.”

              “I am,” the blonde shakes his hand. Yoongi quickly draws his arm back. “I was just asking Mr. Jimin Park here about the accuracy of your system.”

              “Of course, it is accurate. The concept of predestination assures that everything in time is already determined before it comes to actuality. What will happen, will indeed, happen.” Jungkook snatches the brown file from the man’s hands. “When Jimin handed you this,” Jungkook raises the folder, “why did you flip it open?”

              “Because I have to look at it. The department—”

              “Because you’re going to have to look at it,” Jungkook raises a brow. “The department instructed you to investigate us and it is part of your protocol to see through our files. You’re going to open our files whether right now or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. In the end, you will still look at them, one way or another. It’s a future predetermined by the system of DOJ.”

              “Yes,” Yoongi nods, “but you can’t say the same for futures that are yet to happen anytime soon. In our field, we can only rely on objectivity. Factual evidence and observations. Tangible. And your predetermined cases are not any of those. Even if you check on them by having your traveling agents jump into the past.”

              Jungkook sits on his swivel chair, “That’s why we conduct our arrests one to three minutes before the actual act of the crime to further verify if the crime record is correct. It’s called knowing an intended result. Doctors acknowledge them when they prescribe medications. It was utilized so because by facts, they—and we—know what will be the result.” Jungkook coyly turns around his seat, “Plus, we don’t charge the suspects we arrest with murder, but future murder. Its punishment is just a couple of eight to twelve years in our prison. A lot of degrees lighter than the punishment we have for murder, which not that we needed to say, was last given in 2051. Because as everyone knows, we stopped a lot of crimes from happening since our new system was established.

              “But it still doesn’t negate you’re arresting people who haven’t done anything wrong.”

              “I don’t even get why you need to question our system,” Jungkook scoffs, “Your department approved it eight years ago.”

              “I’m questioning because DOJ is debating whether it was a good idea to have your program approved eight years ago. Especially when we’re possibly dealing with an inside job allowed by this very system.” Yoongi slides his hands in his pockets. Jungkook purses his lips. 

              The auditor pulls a glass disk from his briefcase. “Here’s what I’m here for.”

              Jungkook motions to Johnny and the latter retrieves the glass disk to insert it in the bottom-most slot of the glass board.

              The screen opens and shows a CCTV footage of two streets crossing at 5th Avenue Place. The date is July 16. The streets are almost invisible as it was cramped with a mass of cars just as usual. At 12:25, a black Jaguar appears on the leftmost street. It drives by for about five minutes into the heavy traffic. Then suddenly, like a blink of an eye, it disappears among the sea of cars. The time was 12:30.

              Yoongi walks toward the glass board, “As you all know, the restaurant on the center-point of this CCTV is the same place where Jonathan Winston was assassinated. And there’s a black Jaguar here that suddenly disappeared at 12:30. The same time you timed Winston was shot.” Yoongi presses play again, and then a series of CCTV dated from July 17 to 31, shot from different streets across the city, at different times of the day. The only constant element among them is the suspicious black Jaguar which appears on the left corner of the frame, and suddenly disappearing after three to five minutes staying in the vicinity. It was almost like a glitch in the CCTV had they not been recorded in series with other CCTVs. 

              Yoongi pauses the video. “The person in the vehicle is obviously doing time jumps. Three to five minutes of in-vicinity before indefinitely disappearing—from what our records say, it all seems as if this driver is an agent doing the usual Precrime travel mission. Forecrime doesn’t even get to time travel outside the Federal Justice Organization Complex.” The auditor faces back to the glass board, “It all seems just like any Precrime mission until July 31.”

              The CCTV shows the familiar curve of Somerset Road. The time, 20:21. A silver-gray Ford speeds along the road. At 20:23, a black Jaguar appears and collides into the Ford’s right side. Jungkook bites his cheek. It’s his hit-and-run accident.

              Yoongi’s eyes sweep over the room, “Now, we all know this tape captured the recent hit and run the captain has been involved with.” The auditor looks at Jungkook, “And I know you’re currently heading this case in connection with Winston’s case. Considering it happened at Somerset of all places, the most electromagnetic-charged field in the country aside from FJO’s traveling area here. Meanwhile, Anderson is rumored to have access to time jumping technology. However, this record of the hit and run also serves as a crucial lead to all these suspicious random appearances and disappearances. Because right here is the perfect shot for our surveillance crew to enhance the license plate.”

              Yoongi flicks his hand. The screen zooms in. 

              1116459-01

              Yoongi continues, “Although we don’t know yet where this plate leads us to, it helped us confirm this Jaguar is the same car that’s been captured by the CCTVs I’ve played. Most importantly, we found this Jaguar was seen at FJO’s Special Operations Building on the west side of the Metropolis, one day before the hit and run.”

              The screen plays again and shows a record of the same Jaguar parking in the said building on July 30, 21:30. A man steps out and enters the building. After thirty minutes, he comes back and enters his car. He pulls away and goes back onto the streets. After a minute, it disappears again.

              “None of the traveling agents are allowed access in Special Operations. They don’t have any valid reason in the first place because that building is reserved for the Investigation Bureau’s special agents.” Yoongi turns around, facing the sector. “And we all know that building houses the most advanced time jumping technology of FJO. Thus, the department has every right to suspect a high-risk inside job is on the works right now. This driver is obviously interested in Winston’s case and has easily accessed the Bureau’s building. What’s worse is I’ve heard your own system cannot identify this suspicious agent, just like ours.”

              Yoongi walks around the office, “That’s why I am here to find faults in your system. To see what possibly could allow this break of protocol happen,” Yoongi stops in his step and pins a glare at Jungkook, “and why you should be cooperating at your utmost best instead of arguing against me, if you want to keep your program.” 

              The captain clenches his jaw. The blonde man smirks. His eyes look over the room until they land on a projected panel on the glass wall. “What’s that?” 

              “It’s the door leading to our central record room,” Jimin answers. “We call it the Memory Temple. It’s where we keep Precrime’s crime records along with Forecrime’s. As well as the blanks—crime records our agents have seen in the past and future but have not yet made sense of.”

              “And no one has authority to go into that room but the Investigation Bureau’s chief analysts,” Jungkook says.

              Yoongi turns to him, “You’ve never been in that room, before?”

              Jungkook twirls his clicker around his fingers, “We like to separate the agents from the temple as much as possible so no one would be accused of tampering evidence. Unauthorized handling of the records can fuck up the collected memories.”

              Yoongi turns back to the door, “So, that means I’ll be the first to enter it, then.”

              “Did you not hear what I said?” Jungkook scoffs, “Only the chief analysts are allowed.”

              “Yes, but if you’re talking about a question of authority—”

              “Oh no, no.” Jungkook snickers, “there is no question of authority. You don’t have any authority.” 

              Yoongi tilts his head, “Well, I have one if I have a warrant ready in my pocket.”

              Jungkook looks at the man. His eyes glance around the room and see the equally appalled faces of his subordinates. Taehyung looks at the captain, tilting his head toward the auditor. Jungkook snaps his gaze back onto the auditor, “Show me the warrant.”

              Yoongi steps forward and pulls a folded paper in front of him. Jungkook spreads it open.

              “This investigation is done under the direct order and supervision of the Romania Lee, Chief General Attorney of the Republic of Metrosia. If the Federal Justice Organization fails to comply with this direct order, the government has no choice but to implement a temporary suspension of three months up to one year,” Yoongi quotes. He nears Jungkook’s chair and crouches, leveling his face to the captain. “The Chief General Attorney has authority over FJO. I represent her, so I have authority over you.” Yoongi smirks, “I told you, you should cooperate with me at your utmost best if you want to keep your program.” The auditor snatches the paper and folds it back in his pocket. “Now, show me this Memory Temple.”

              Jungkook grumbles as he begrudgingly stands up from his chair. He goes to the panel on the glass and presses a button, flashing a special ID of entrance for emergencies to the scanner. Another panel opens and Jungkook leans forward to let the system scan his eyes. The door slides open to a descending flight of metal steps. Jungkook starts downward, leading Yoongi into the Memory Temple.

              The temple is dark. Its light source only comes from the bright yellow pin lights installed on the floor. Precrime’s crime records glow in faded sepia around them, looking like burnt-out stars.  In contrast, Forecrime’s crime records are illuminated in bright chartreuse, seemingly like new sprouts. Blanks dot a few spaces in grayish-white. Glass shelves shine in faint crystal blue as they line the whole room, forming a circular labyrinth around the central starting walking-space where the four are currently in. 

              A woman in her late thirties sporting a messy bun and a lab coat walks to them. “Uh, Captain, you do know you’re not allowed to go in here unless it’s an emergency?”

              Jungkook holds up a hand, “It’s fine Rina. It is kinda an emergency. DOJ has sent their lovely auditor here to investigate us and he’s adamant about seeing the Memory Temple. We’re not gonna touch anything.

              Rina nods. Jungkook starts to lead the way around, Rina trailing next to him. Yoongi looks around the temple. “How are these records maintained to be as accurate as they were first produced?”

              “U-um, the temple is built with a special architecture that prevents the exterior environment from affecting the crime records,” Rina pushes her glasses up her nose. “The walls are made of Zonium, a strong, indestructible element that makes strong, fireproof metal that is used in the construction of other government archives. These walls ensure that the records will be safe if the FJO catches on fire, suffers an earthquake, hurricane, and any other natural disasters. There are also no windows here to avoid the sunlight from passing through and wearing out the glass files. Bureau staff here is just limited to eight analysts, including me—one for each sector of FJO to prevent any agents from both divisions tampering around the records for personal use. We’re also here to take care of the crime records and keep an up-to-date inventory of the ones that come in.”

              “Is it possible to provide DOJ a copy of each of these records?” Yoongi asks.

              “Oh no, sir,” Rina shakes her head vehemently. “The crime records are specialized to be impossible to copy. It has detectors that light up when it senses it’s being processed under a glass disk copier. When it lights up, the record immediately secretes a black ink that will render any memory corrupted to view. The FJO produced such specialized disks as per the advice of Allen McGregor and Chisoo Kim to ensure the security of the records their technology has enabled.”

              Yoongi nods, seemingly satisfied. The three walk around the outline of the labyrinth, Rina explaining each aisle as much as she can to the auditor, Jungkook adding a few details of the cases that involved certain records. When they returned to the walk space they came from, Jungkook thanks Rina for the accommodation and leads Yoongi back upstairs. Once they’ve made it back to the office’s concrete floors, the door slides shut, the panel returning to its initial small projection on the glass wall. 

              Unlike the Memory Temple, Yoongi has complete jurisdiction over the rest of the FJO complex. And so, Jungkook ended up hesitantly agreeing to tour the auditor around the complex and explain the activities done in each office as per the auditor’s inquiries.

              “Each sector in Precrime has a metal chute connected with their counterparts in Forecrime,” Jungkook drawls as he points to Organized Crime’s metal structure. “Agents place the files on the projected plate and the chute will provide enough wind to push it through the metalwork. Meanwhile, files are received from the plates with the central slit. It’s like an ATM but instead of money, it produces a legal-sized expandable file.” Yoongi only stiffly nods. Jungkook releases an exasperated sigh. His only silver lining in carrying on this tour is Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok who’s aiding him in doing the rest of the explaining.

              The auditor only says his first statement during the tour when they cross to the right-wing: the Forecrime division. “There’s not much difference between your divisions.” 

              Indeed, the Forecrime division almost looks identical to Precrime. Their walls are also made of transparent glass, their floors metal-infused concrete walkways. Each sector also has similar gigantic glass boards with wooden compartments at the back to enable witnesses to view crime records during investigations. There are also projected panels on the back glass walls that lead to the Memory Temple.

              The only difference between the two divisions is the special room Forecrime was granted. Unlike Precrime, Forecrime does not have a specialized metal lift that enables the agents to reach the Task-Action Agency Office in record time. Instead, Forecrime has a huge gymnasium filled with long “boxes” of time jumpers. From their position on the hallway, Jungkook could see their traveling agents flipping the lids open and getting inside these boxes. Jungkook remembers asking about how Forecrime agents travel in these boxes to his friend, Hanford Meyers. The Forecrime Future of Organized Crimes Sector captain said it feels like getting thrust into a VR-like reality at any point around the country.

              “It’s like you’ve suddenly awaken into a dream. You don’t have any sense of where you are. You only know of the time. And what you’re supposed to do. Before they could travel, Forecrime agents are trained to have an immense focus on the points of the case they have to check on in their travels in the future. So when they enter the box, it just seems like they’re being led by their conscious’ voice. The rest, we leave it to Precrime. What only matters is to see the nearest intended future and the box.” 

              All Jungkook could think about is how wrong it feels to call those time jumpers “boxes” when they look more like the vintage tanning beds.

              The time seems to pass too fast since they’ve been in Forecrime because now, Jungkook is leading the team down to the ground floor. It must be because it was Jimin who took charge in explaining the rest in Forecrime. Meanwhile, the mundaneness of the fourth and fifth floors of the Investigation Bureau and the Offices of the High-ranking FJO Officers look and feel too much like the typical office the auditor already knows too well.Jungkook reaches the end of the hallway behind the main lobby, standing in front of a metal lift. However, this lift is not like any other lifts in the complex for this one has black gildings around its edges. It also has a note on the button’s panel that says, “For high-ranking officials and Freedom Security Staff Only.”

              Just like at the panel on the back wall of the Murder Sector, Jungkook shows his identification card to the detector and leans forward to scan his eyes. The lift opens and inside, he presses “4,” subsequently letting the rest of his small posse enter the metal box. Jungkook presses the down button and soon, they feel the lift descending into the basement floor of the building.

              The light at the top flicks green. The doors open and what awaits in front of them is a long metal walkway that leads to the center of the floor. Unsolved Crimes captain Ryan Bergara passes by and salutes at Jungkook. Jungkook does the same and continues on, and soon, they’re walking onto Federal Justice Organization’s Prison Area. 

              The walls are not made of glass but instead, of silver-gray metal similar to the ones used in the Memory Temple. There are small offices that circle around the floor housing wardens and utility staff. But the largest office sits on the north end. It has a glass wall that separates itself from the main hallway and the rest of the offices. A huge control board is set up filled with loads of different buttons and levers. Sitting in the swivel chair in front of it is the Chief Warden.

              Jungkook knocks at the glass door. The Chief Warden jumps in his seat and turns around. Jungkook gives a small smile. The warden salutes at him, smiling, as he presses a button that opens the glass door.

              “Why are you knocking instead of using your card? Could have saved me unnecessary shock,” Rick snickers.

              Jungkook shrugs. “I felt like not using it after seeing you being so attentive to your job. Why are you even on the board? You’re the chief. Where’s Martin?”  

              “Took a leave to attend his wife’s performance at the opera. Bastard’s living a fairy tale these days,” Rick trails off as he peers behind the captain and notices the strange blonde man staring too intently at him. Rick raises a brow at the captain.

              Jungkook sighs, “DOJ. This is their auditor Yoongi Min. He likes to check out the prison.”

              Rick nods and turns to his board. “Make yourselves welcome to the balcony.” The Chief Warden presses a button and a buzzer goes off. The door at the right corner of the board pops open. Jungkook leads the way onto the balcony of the Prison Area. In front of them is a sea of glass-walled prison cells layered on top of one another. Each cell holds one prisoner, seemingly fast asleep as they stand stiff, wearing orange jumpsuits. A couple of tubes are attached to their body, connecting it to a huge tank that sits on the bottom compartments of their cells. Looking at the prison, one cannot help but feel like they’re looking at a wall of coffins tipped face-front.

              “Your prison is—”

              “Highly secured?” Jungkook turns to the auditor, “Yes, we made sure of that.”

              “No. It’s inhumane.”

              Jungkook scoffs, “I-inhumane? This is inhumane?”

              “You’re stripping these people of their freedom to act on their autonomy to as basic as being awake.” 

              “Well, they lost their right to that freedom when they’ve stepped on other’s rights to commit their crimes,” Jungkook takes a step forward. “This is just for temporary. We’re going to release them anyway after their sentences. It’s better to make use of the time and teach them what it’s like to have your rights stripped away from you so they won’t even have to think again of stripping others of their rights.”

              Yoongi cocks his brow. “It’s still inhumane. Your acting almighty, dictating these people deserve it when you’ve arrested them based on mere human-made predictions you make a temple for. You’re not acting like humans. You’re acting like gods and that is inhumane.”

              Jungkook purses his lips. His eyes glance behind Yoongi’s back and see Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok nodding to themselves. Jungkook steps out and looks at them. “You’re nodding as if you know what he’s talking about.”

              Hoseok shrugs, “Well, he has a point. We’re exercising our powers determining everyone’s future and dictating what consequence should they have. Indeed, only gods do that and we are no gods.”

              Jungkook turns away and sighs. “Go back to work, all of you.”

              The three nod. They salute at the captain and silently make their way out of the balcony.

              Yoongi falls in step next to Jungkook. He looks down at his shoes. “Sorry, it’s a bad habit. I find it hard to see limitations in my words.”

              Jungkook remains quiet.

              Yoongi looks at him. “I know you must have great value for this system. Especially when you lost someone dear to you at such a tragic event—”

              Jungkook turns to him.

              “—And now, the culprit who hit you is walking around free—”

              “Cut the bullshit, Yoongi. What are you really looking for?”

              Yoongi levels his eyes with his. “Flaws.”

              Jungkook clenches his jaw. “The organization hasn’t made any flaw in eight years. Yes, there are some suspects who slipped past us and ended up finishing the crime. But we still successfully caught them in the end and exacted appropriate punishment.” Jungkook takes a step to the auditor, “Justice has been ensured at all times. The system is perfect.”

              “Yes,” Yoongi nods, “your system is impeccable. But even if you act like gods using this system to its full potential, you are still humans. And humans are flawed. If the system is indeed perfect, then its flaws have to be created by humans.”

              Jungkook stands still in his position.

              Yoongi makes his way to the glass door, “And you’re wrong, Jungkook. FJO’s system has already made one flaw: that elusive driver of the black Jaguar.”

              Jungkook winces as Namjoon pats the last drop of ointment on his wound. Namjoon looks up at him then starts wrapping his friend’s arm in a fresh bandage. “From what I remember, you used to have high pain tolerance.”

              “What do you mean ‘used to’? I still have a high tolerance,” Jungkook mutters, using his free hand to raise his mug of coffee to his lips.

              Namjoon makes a particular hard tug and Jungkook freezes, stifling another wince. Namjoon tilts his head, “No, I think you do not.” Jungkook faces away from his friend. Namjoon hums as he tucks the end of the bandage to the captain’s elbow with a pin. He pats it lightly one last time and looks at his friend, “Something’s bothering you. Tell me.”

              Jungkook sighs, “It’s just work. Nothing you need to worry about. The DOJ is already messing with your department.”

              “So you’re also getting tipped over your backs by DOJ, too?” Namjoon snickers, “Great. We’re on the same page. Now, tell me what’s up.”

              Jungkook puts down his mug. “Fine. Tell me yours first.”

              Namjoon leans back in his chair, placing his arms beneath his nape, “So we’re doing the ‘let the worse problem win’ game again, huh? Thought this was over in college.” 

              Jungkook gives him an unamused look. Namjoon chuckles, “Okay, I’ll go first. Well, today someone named Chris Jefferson acted like a king and demanded all of us Bureau analysts to let him see our files and history of connections. Good thing I programmed my personal phone to be off-grid to any system or else Seokjin’s name is gonna start making headlines. But I’m still pissed. I had to reorganize my files again when Chris was unsatisfied with the mundaneness of our things. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I’ve already poured out enough when we reached our building.” Namjoon leans forward and clasps his hand together, “Now, tell me about yours.”

              Jungkook’s eyes travel to the ajar door of his office. He shakes his head and turns to his friend. “DOJ sent their auditor to us. They’re suspicious of our sector because this black Jaguar that hit me is apparently been under their radar for a while doing suspicious things that seem to be connected with Winston’s case.” Namjoon’s eyes widen. Jungkook pulls his lips, “Yeah, I didn’t imagine it was going to be more complicated. I’m still sure it’s Anderson. I don’t have any notable enemies in and outside FJO. Only suspects. And Leigh is the only suspect that’s escaped from my hands. There’s no one who’ll have a grudge against me but him. A thinner man was made out from the CCTVs, but who knows? All we have is just a silhouette after all.”

              Jungkook runs his hand through his hair, “But it’s hard to stand on that ground when that Jaguar’s doing the three to five minutes in-vicinity pattern of Precrime traveling agents. And this goddamn auditor has to stomp on all my pride and dignity and run everything in Precrime to his way while he preaches as if he’s better than anyone of us.” 

              Ugly silence. Jungkook looks at the hanging frame stand on his bookshelf. “On his first day, he implied my faith in this system was not because of my commitment to my job but because of…Daehyun.” Namjoon goes stiff. Jungkook closes his eyes and sighs, “I just don’t know what I should feel in this mess anymore because everything…is too much.”

              Namjoon twirls his mug around his hand. “Has…none of the traveling agents seen this driver? Precrime and Forecrime?”

              Jungkook shakes his head, “No. I requested Property and Crime Scene and Accident Prevention to do more travels four days ago and it’s still negative. I even asked Organized Crimes to look into this but even they can’t place this driver into their web of contacts. Forecrime didn’t see anything related to the hit and run.  We have his license plate but that is not much of a help because our programs didn’t type it as registered, stolen, or even a burner. Just ‘invalid.’ We’d never had an invalid before. We usually type in suspects caught by the CCTV as soon as one hour.” Jungkook exasperatedly runs a hand down his face. “I practically exhausted everything in the system for one whole week and I still don’t know a fucking goddamn thing about this driver.”

              Namjoon nods silently.

              Jungkook looks at him. “Do you know something?”

              Namjoon sends him a tight smile, “Something that could help you a bit, I do.”

              Jungkook’s moves his mug away, leaning over the table. “Tell me.”

              “Well, this is not part of our protocol. None of it is and whatever we may retrieve from doing this, we cannot use as substantial evidence to indict anyone. It can only go as far as a guide to use. But, it’s still worth a shot trying.” 

              Jungkook nods at him to continue. Namjoon grips his mug tighter. “Back when FJO is still running the traditional a-gazillion-paperwork-way, we at the Bureau have encountered countless of horrendous cases with unidentifiable suspects. Some of them have gone cold. The most notable was Linton Park’s 7 Capital Sins serial murders. 10 years ago. We were losing hope until we learned someone from one of our departments is capable of identifying the suspect without the help of our system. It was totally unconventional and we almost didn’t believe it. Everyone but Seokjin. He’s the only one who believed it and it was a good thing that he did. Because after he pushed this unconventional method for consideration, we gathered enough evidence to indict Linton. After that, all of our impossible cases were entrusted into this girl. She still remained to be my contact when the Bureau encounters records with people the new system is unable to identify.”

              “Who is this person?”

              “Y/N L/N. She’s a sketch artist…and a clairvoyant. She can draw up the most unimaginable faces from a future no traveling agent can reach. Not even FJO’s picture-perfect system can penetrate the futures that she sees. What’s astounding is,” Namjoon looks straight at Jungkook, “she’s never been wrong.”

next | series masterlist

A/N pt.2: This story is based on Steven Spielberg’s film adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s short story, Minority Report (2002). That being said, this series may contain spoilers for the movie so if you want to watch the movie, please do so first before reading!

Hi @senfleurs​! This is your (long overdue) make-up birthday gift from yours truly! I got inspired (and also challenged) to fulfill my part in your Angst Diplomacy™. I know I’ve already said lots of things on your birthday but I just want to pour more love for you. You’re an amazing person and you’ve constantly been there for me through thick and thin and I am eternally grateful of you for that. You’ve always had a good taste in art and books and so much more and that inspired me to write something that can, at least, take a small spot in your top-tier™ taste. So thank you also for being a strong inspiration for me in writing this :”)

Also, this fic happened to drop by the birthday of one of my dear supporters from day 1, @kwonthefire​, so happy, happy birthday hon! Thank you for being a wonderful reader who never failed to send me love and motivation when I’m starting to doubt myself. I wish your quarantine birthday was good to you because you deserve happiness! I hope you’re taking care of yourself good and may you always stay safe and remember you are loved and appreciated, even by such a measly, smol writer on the internet you’ve managed to make smile on days’ end! Love you!

Notes | Next update will be on the week after next week, Sunday, May 31! If you guys wanna get tagged in a taglist, just hit me up down the comments so I can track you all! Thank you for reading and giving a chance for My Time! :’> ++ As you know, this is a mystery fic so it will be most appreciated if any theories pertaining to the story be kept down the comments so I can entertain them all without spoiling our future readers! Once again, thank you so much for reading this! **Tagging my lovely hon, @spring2787​ who requested to get tagged in all of my works. Thank you for the support hon!

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. 2020. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission

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[minniepetals]

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours. 

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

.

.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

.

.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

.

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

.

.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

.

.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

.

.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

.

.

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

.

.

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

.

.

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

.

.

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

.

.

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

.

.

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

.

.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

.

.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 x reader #poly!bts #poly bts #poly!bts x reader #mafia bts #bts mafia!au #bts gang #bts gang au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

kim taehyung / reader [f] 

genre: royal/fantasy au, arranged marriage au, serpent prince!taehyung, priestess!reader, very soft romance, slow burn

warning(s)!!: slow burn (there is a lot of backstory oof), insecurity, jealous taehyung (who isn’t completely aware he’s jealous), heartache (a lot i’m sorry), hurt/comfort, almost nudity or translucent wet clothes, attempt at picking a fight/no-good townsfolk, past kidnap attempts, very minor depictions of violence, very breif mention of death, taehyung cries oops, y/n loves so much it hurts, taehyung being the most devoted boy to ever devote, obvs. religious themes (i.e. prayers, worship, offerings etc.), the royal family isn’t toxic and is in fact very sweet, jungkook is featured as a monk who refuses to cut his hair

w.count: 16.6k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-15 ]

synopsis: When he was born, Prince Taehyung was marked as the Serpent King’s Descendant with the mark of scales on his chest to prove it. As he grew up, he was appointed a playmate who would soon be training in the royal shrine as a maiden because of her unusually large spiritual power. They were pronounced engaged when Taehyung was just shy of his teenage years by royal command and he did nothing to fight the arrangement.  Now, you’re a grown woman and head of the shrine as the Center Priestess and devotee to the shrine and royal family with a heart filled almost too full of love for your future husband-to-be. When the wedding is announced and a ball is held in an advanced celebration you wonder, does your fiancé really want to marry you? Or is he just following his father’s royal orders? You don’t know what your heart can't take more: the idea of being rejected and unloved, or never knowing the true feelings of Prince Taehyung’s heart. 

t.list bc @lysannnnaa​ & @bella-victoria002​ wanted to be notified when it was posted!

The Serpent King was an old mythical king of ages that had stories upon stories spun about him.  

He was a man given the powers of a great sea serpent and among his journey to harness his powers and grow as the future king he knew he was destined to become, he traveled far and wide until he came upon an island.  This island was completely devoid of creatures- be it human or animal- aside from a giant snake he had found lay sleeping in a cave by the sea.  The Serpent King decided to make this island his home- and began to craft and build his kingdom to which he would rule- the snake by his side. 

Years passed and soon there it was, the kingdom the Serpent King had dreamt of. However, before he could see it continue to grow and prosper, he fell ill and weak. Dying on his bed surrounded by his people and the snake that had accompanied him in his goals, he prayed that the power in which he possessed would one day be reborn inside a new future king. 

The mighty island was named by the late Serpent King as the Hissing Isle. When he passed, the kingdom took not to grieving, but to work and worship. They built a shrine alongside the castle he had crafted.  Created memorials to which townsfolk and the occasional visitor may visit and pray to. Monuments of him with a giant snake wound around his body. His people continued his kingdom and a new royal family was chosen and so the generations passed; everyone waiting until the next Serpent King would be born. 

His companion snake was never seen again, rumor spreading that it took the to seas to watch over the island because it’s master was in the sky among the heavens. 

Centuries later, the royal castle was in full bustle as the queen had gone into labor unexpectedly. Ushering her to a delivery room in the medical wing of the castle, the king not far behind as he left his work and notes in his study at the news of his wife. Servants very quickly scurried about in panic for the arrival of the new royal child. 

It was an agonizing five hours later when the new baby prince was born. However, among the servants and the spiritual monk with the king and queen, none spoke. The room was silent aside from the cries of the newborn baby- the same baby who had a mark on his chest. A mark that was small, just the size of his newborn fist and detailed so delicately as a patch of scales.  

The king shed a tear as he smiled at his wife, holding her hand to soothe and congratulate her on a well done delivery of her first child.  The baby was soon cleaned and swaddled in a bundle of the softest cloth before the queen was requesting to hold her son. As he was placed in the woman’s arms, she smiled down at him as he instantly calmed.  The king sat beside the two, his hand on his queen’s leg as they both looked at the mark on their son once more. 

The Serpent King had finally chosen a new spirit to gift power to. Reincarnated into this small, healthy baby prince hundreds upon hundreds of years into the future. Serpent Prince Kim Taehyung, that is his name. 

Two years after the young prince was born, another baby was born with special powers.  Born in a brilliant blue aura and a strong, healthy body, a shrine monk had been shocked speechless at the amount of rare spiritual energy the newborn infant possessed.  It was decided among the few hours after her birth, that this baby girl would grow to be a magnificent shrine priestess and when the time would call for it, her training to harness her abilities would begin. 

Both the serpent blooded prince and the infant priestess would soon grow into bodies that would learn many things and experience many occasions and emotions.  First, however, they would need to meet.

“Y/n, come here for a spell,” your mother called for your attention as you sat at a small open chest filled with small wooden toys and bells and ribbons you had been gifted.  It had been four years since you were born and to you, your life had just started as your memory finally started allowing you to retain information and people’s faces.  

Your mother stood at the door to your room in her dress of a distasteful shade of brown that laced around her stomach to shrink her waist and strapped over her shoulders. The dress trapped the off shoulder white blouse she wore over her torso as her hair was braided along the back of her head, pinned up and out of the way. 

You looked back over your small shoulder still dressed in your pale yellow nightgown that reached your ankles with sleeves that covered your entire hand to your fingertips when you stood.  Hair unkempt and unbrushed from sleep, as you had woken up and immediately took to your toy chest to occupy your time until you were fetched by your single parent. 

Standing, you abandoned your trinkets as you rushed to your mother’s side. Grabbing her skirt in your fists and pushing your face into the fabric of her dress, giggling at the warm embrace she gave you. Her hands pushed on your shoulders and back as she leaned to greet you a good morning.  

“Good morning, my dearest little girl,” your mother cooed as you lifted your face from her skirt and smiled up at her.  You were always a shy child, but she hoped now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you would grow out of your shyness.  She gently pushed you away just enough so she could kneel on the floor in front of you, brushing your messy hair out of your face with her fingers. “We have to get you dressed.  Today is a very big day,” she told you. 

“What does that mean, mommy?” You asked, your small voice pitched and as sweet as song bells to your mother’s ears.  How she loved the sound of your voice. 

“It means, dearest, that you’re going to meet someone who will become your friend today.” The woman watched your puffy child-fat-cheeks, extend in a pout as you frowned.  “Now,” she started, softly but sternly, “do not pout like that. It would make me very happy if you would play with another child.” 

“Well,” your small voice started as your pout lessened, “if mommy wants me to, I can try.” your mother smiled as she gently kissed your forehead. You were only four, but you were very kind and gentle, and smarter than you thought.  

“That’s my girl,” she encouraged as she backed you up into your room to ready you for the day.  Placing you in a dress the color of daffodils that reached just past your knee and the long sleeves open at the shoulders, your mother messed with your head.  

You admired your dress in the standing mirror in your room.  Ruffles of soft yellow running around your skirt and the white fabric on your chest dotted with small flowers. Hair now brushed and pinned only partially back with a flower clip, your mother was soon sliding flat, black shoes over your feet. “You look beautiful, dearest,” she cooed as she kissed your cheek. 

“Mommy’s way more pretty than me!” You cheered as she stood and you took her hand, letting her lead you out of your room.  

You had lived in the castle your entire life, but only recently did you start remembering the layout of the massive royal home. You often remembered going to the shrine more often than not, feeling so peaceful and calm inside the shrine’s walls. The fountain inside with a statue of a man and a snake always seemed warm to you. 

Your mother walked slowly at your side as you clung to her hand the entire journey from your room, down the halls, past servants and guards alike until she came to stand at a grand, red doorway. You gripped her hand tighter, nerves bubbling in your small stomach. 

She offered two easy knocks that reverberated through the halls, bouncing off the walls in echoes that seemed so loud you wanted to cover your ears. 

“Majesty, it is Lily of the Shrine Courts. I have brought my daughter as you have asked,” she announced to the closed door. You thought her crazy until a voice echoed from behind the doors offering her entrance into the room beyond the red entrance. She looked down at you before smiling. “Do not worry, I will be with you the whole time,” she assured as you nodded, unaware of who was going to be inside. 

She pushed the door open with loud, aching creaks as you followed her in. your young eyes were wide as you looked around the room you had entered with your mother.  Large, wide and open with a single red carpet with gold trim lining the floor from the door to a set of 5 steps with thrones sitting atop them. There were three, dark wooden thrones in your line of sight.

One on the far left was the biggest of the three. Glorious and plush with red cushions that looked like you could jump on and sink right into the cushion. Gold trim surrounded the cushions as golden tassels hung from the arm rests of the throne. 

The middle throne was much less extravagant and smaller in size, but still as beautiful as the one before. With A fanned, three curved humps at the top of the back and red cloth that hung from the cushion like a bed-skirt over a box spring. 

The third, was just about the same size as the middle one. Resembling both the first and second, it was like a hybridized fashion of the first two- a child of the two thrones so to speak. 

In two of those three thrones, sat two adults.  In the first, glorious throne was a man dressed in black, gold and purple with a fur lined robe over his shoulders. A golden, magnificent crown sat along his head.  Next to him was a woman, a small tiara sat atop her pinned and folded hair as her dress was a soft purple and flowed so elegantly you knew without touching it that the fabric would be soft. 

You knew without a doubt it was the king and queen of Hissing Isle. The royal family that lived in Serpent Castle. You had never truly met them face to face before, and you thought your legs were going to freeze then collapse. 

Your mother soon came to a respectful halt a fair distance in front of the steps leading up to the thrones before she lowered her chest in a deep bow.  In theory you would have copied your mother, but you simply couldn’t move due to the nerves rampaging through your body. 

The queen looked at you with a smile on her face as she soon rose from her throne and picked up the floor length gown as she revealed her jeweled heels as she stepped carefully down the steps and soon was approaching you both. You jolted as you felt your mother’s hand on the back of your head. 

The queen was soon kneeling in front of you, her graceful beauty within arms reach, but all you could do is stare in wide-eyed awe and anxiousness. 

“You have a lovely daughter, Lady Lily,” the queen's smooth, rich voice spoke to your mother even though she was looking at you.  She reached out her hand as she brushed the back of her finger across her cheek and through your freshly brushed hair as you gulped. “Hello, sweetheart,” she softly called. 

“Hello,” you croaked out as the hand of your mother’s brushed along the back of your head, soothing you. 

“Do you know why you’re here this morning, child?” You nodded your head at the queen’s question “There are many things you are destined for, small lady. First, my husband and I would like to introduce you to another child just a couple years older than you. We hope you both can become friends.” You silently nod once again, still gripping onto your mother’s dress like a lifeline. 

The queen stands back up and steps away from you as she exchanges words with your mother. You look around the throne room and back behind the curtains that drape behind the set of thrones you see a faint silhouette.  You shuddered, thinking it was one of those shadow monsters you see in the corner of your vision. 

You jolt when the shadow seems to have locked eye contact with you.  You tug on your mother’s dress and reach to grab her hand as you look up towards her. She’s soon looking down at you, her precious child with eyes that can see almost too well, before she is grabbing your hand back tightly in hers. 

“What is it, dearest?” You crush your face into the fabric of her dress as you feel her leg behind it.  “Y/n,” she cooed, trying to have you behave just a bit better in front of the royal family. 

“There’s a shadow in here,” you muttered as you felt her other hand on your head again, avoiding snagging her fingernails into your clipped hair. “Behind those big chairs, there’s a shadow,” you whine. Both your mother and the queen turn to look behind the set of glorious seats and the queen only smiles at the ‘shadow’ you had seen.  

“Oh my,” the queen breathed, “why are you hiding back there again, Taehyung,” the queen called.  You looked up from the fabric of your mother’s skirt as you peered around her to see the shadow move- making you jump.  Soon, a young boy was walking out of the shadows, dressed in a black shirt and pants with a golden vest of thick embroidered shoulders and hems on his small framed torso.  His blonde hair shining like a star. Your body relaxed- it wasn’t a shadow after all. 

“I apologize for her,” your mother addressed and you instantly felt guilty. Your mother was apologizing because you jumped to conclusions because you weren’t able to tell the shadows from people yet; these shadows only just started appearing in your vision recently and they scared you. “Her eyes can see more than what others can, so she hasn’t learned spirits from humans yet.” 

“I see the rumors about her abilities are true then,” from behind the queen, the king who had been sitting in silence had finally spoken.  “I can feel her spiritual pressure even from here, and she’s of such young age. You should be proud of your daughter, Lady Lily.” The king rose from his throne as he descended the steps and called the child boy over to his and the queen’s side. 

Soon, the king and queen stood in front of you as the young boy stood between them.  You didn’t need to be told that this was their child- the prince of whom you knew of but had also never met.  The look in his dark eyes made you shiver, like he wasn’t a happy child. But, the royal family was so kind and made you feel warm- why would his eyes look so grim then? 

The king soon placed a large hand on the prince’s small shoulder. 

“Young Y/n, as of today I would be honored if you would keep my son company.” You looked up at the king with a dropped jaw.  The prince was the new friend your mother had told you about? You looked back down at the prince- his expression unchanged as if he was unhappy about your newfound company. Maybe that is why his eyes looked that way, he didn’t want a playmate. “Is that alright?” The king asked as if your four year old little heart had the gall to say no the royalty. 

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked in shyness. “It’s alright,” you confirmed with your small, bell voice your mother always praised.  It made the queen and king smile as the queen wrapped her arm around her son's shoulders, kneeling to his level and gaining his attention. 

“Now, Taehyung,” she started softly, “Y/n is going to be your friend, so you treat her kindly, alright?” You jolted and sucked in a small breath when the prince looked back to you before returning his bland gaze to his mother. 

“Yes, mother,” he muttered. The queen brushed back Taehyung’s hair and sent him off, out of the throne room. Soon, your mother was advising you to follow after him. With a small head pat from your mother and a gulp of attempted bravery, you trotted after the six-year-old prince who didn’t seem very happy to have a new friend. 

It had been four days since you were assigned Prince Taehyung’s playmate and friend.  You often spent time in the library reading while he studied, or walking behind him as he roamed through the gardens before sitting on a bench with a book, you sitting on the opposite end of the same bench. 

Every night your mother would tuck you into bed and ask how your day with the prince was and you would always tell her the same thing. You were nothing but a duckling following around the royal prince as he never spoke to you even if you spoke to him. You feared he disliked you and you often sought your mother’s comfort as you would nearly cry at the thought of your first real friend hating you. 

Every morning you’d wake up and pick out the prettiest dress and most eye-catching hair pins and ribbons to try and attract the prince’s attention. Even when you tried wearing shoes that clack with each step, he never even spared you a glance. 

It was midday of the fifth day of being Taehyung’s new friend when you decided to try and be more aggressive with your mission you had dubbed: ‘make Prince Taehyung my friend’.  You both sat in the library as he was scribbling in a book with another book open next to him.  You had recognized the book he was studying today- a book of hymns from the past that are typically sung about or for the Serpent King’s spirit and the Sea Snake.  You were currently being taught those same hymns by the shrine maidens and monks during the time you weren’t trailing Taehyung. 

“Prince Taehyung,” you called softly, knowing he wouldn’t answer you. You swallowed your nervous breath as you pushed more words out instead of giving up instantly like the days prior. “Are you very interested in the Sea Snake and Serpent King hymns? If so, I can sing them for you,” you offered. You saw his fountain pen halt in his hand for just a moment before he resumed writing. 

You almost smiled, that was proof he was listening to you- just ignoring you. 

“You know,” you continued, stepped just ever so closer to the chair he sat in as his feet dangled, still far too short to reach the floor. “I’m being taught a lot of those from the shrine maidens.  They said I need to know them because I’m going to become a shrine maiden one day too. They told me I’m going to be a priestess and that the hymns would be very important to know when I’m all grown up.” 

He didn’t pay you any mind just as you were used to.  You wracked your young mind to think as to why he was so uninterested in you. You’ve always wanted a friend around your age, and he was only two years older than you.  He wasn’t so superior to you as a six-year-old that you had to be ignored.  Maybe he was just a snobby prince? But, that didn't seem to fit him. The aura he gave off felt sad and calm to you- like he wanted something he just wasn’t getting, but staying to himself about it.  

Then, you had a thought. 

Prince Taehyung is the Serpent King’s descendant- his reincarnation as you were told- who was blessed with the ancient king’s blood.  He would one day rule the kingdom and lead the Hissing Isle into a golden age- even more peaceful and prosperous than the Serpent Kingdom is right now. 

“Prince Taehyung,” you addressed him again. You had gotten beside him and gently grabbed the cloth of his shirt around his elbow between your fingers. “Are you sad about being born like the Serpent King?” For the first time the child prince stopped his scribbling and the air around you changed.  

It became tense and you felt like you were suffocating. Did you cross a line? Were you supposed to just keep your mouth shut and follow him like a little duckling for the rest of your childhood until he finally snapped and told you to leave him alone? You shivered. Would he snap now? Would he yell and tell you to be gone because you were prying into business that isn’t yours? 

“Am I sad about being born this way?” The first sentence ever spoken to you from the prince’s mouth and it felt sharp as it hit your heart. “Am I sad about being told who I am and who I’m supposed to be? Am I sad about being so different that people can’t even use my name? Am I sad that I’m just ‘Serpent Prince Taehyung’?” He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes lined with frustrated tears. “Wouldn’t you be sad about that?” He softly choked.  

“Prince,” you called in a small breath, unable to recognize that the small prince had been carrying such a burden on his shoulders.  Was he really outcast like he claims? True, when you followed him around, all people did was bow their head and offer praises of the blood of the serpent king. 

“How are you okay with the shrine telling you who you’re destined to become?” He asked, turning away from the book full of hymns and swiveling to look at you standing next to him. 

“Because my mom said I’d grow up to be a great priestess one day,” you spoke in a heavily whispered answer.  “And my mom would never lie to me, so I believe her.” 

“She’s planning your life for you. Doesn’t that make you mad? Shouldn’t you have the freedom to choose what you want?” This was the most the prince had ever spoken in your presence. 

“I’m not mad,” you quickly deny. “I really like learning all the hymns and the dances the shrine is teaching me. I get to dance with bells and ribbons and sing songs that will help people when I grow up. I get scared of shadows and odd creatures I see, but the more I learn from the monks, the more I can face those scary things. I have so much fun with the shrine people, so I could never be mad about growing up like they say I will.” You let go of the prince's sleeves only to grab his hand hesitantly. 

His hand is relaxed in yours, not moving to pull away or to return the gesture.  You think you finally understand why the prince’s eyes are so sad.  He’s scared of his future and feels trapped.  You step closer to his chair, making him lean back as you got into his personal bubble that had never been popped before. 

“If you’re unhappy, the king and queen would surely listen to you!” You announced with a brow furrowed in determination.  “If you told you mom and dad, I’m sure they’d listen and accept whatever you said! My mom always tells me to tell her anything and as long as I’m honest, she’ll listen without anger. I’m sure your mom and dad think the same thing, Taehyung.” 

His eyes were wide as you quickly spoke- throwing out his title in the spur of the moment. Advising him to go talk to his parents about his woes? Addressing him so boldly in an attempt to cheer him up after all he’s been doing for as long as he could remember is brood in the idea of his set in stone future?  Could he really tell his parents that he was scared of letting them down?  He was just a child, a small little six-year-old who was scared of disappointing his parents.  

“I can’t tell them,” he whispered to himself more than you, trying to get the idea of speaking his mind out of his head.  He couldn’t be selfish, not when so many people expect so much from him. 

“Then, you can tell me and I’ll tell them for you!” You announced again. “You’re my friend, Taehyung, and if you can’t tell them, then I’ll do it for you.” The prince dropped his jaw as he looked into the total seriousness of your eyes.  You meant it; every word you’ve said you have meant.  You looked down at your hand when you felt the boy grip it back, holding your hand tightly. 

“You don’t think they’d be mad at me?” His true colors of youth finally broke through. You smiled brightly at him as you shook your head. “Then, I guess I can try… later, at dinner maybe.” you saw a small hue paint his cheeks as you giggled at the sudden cute turn his demeanor took.  “You said you knew some of these?” He asked, referring back to his book of hymns.  You nodded as he got up, let go of your hand and fetched a new chair for you, setting it beside him as he climbed back into his. “Then, could you sing one?” 

Your child-like voice of bells sang any hymn he could find you knew and he could feel the serpent blood in him react to it, reaching out to the songs it found so familiar. 

Two years passed, and Taehyung had finally started becoming a prince he could be proud of. He had apologized to you and your mother for being so rude for the first week of your friendship, but since then, you and he were inseparable.  He would often come to the shrine to see you practice your dances and listen to your songs. 

The prince was smiling more and enjoying his studies.  He often talked with his parents when he had troubles now, and he had accepted his role as the future king. He had thought he needed to be perfect in the past, and now he knew that as long as he did his best and never lied, it would all be alright.  Failure kept him humble, but it would never hold him back like it once did before. 

On your sixth birthday, your mother gifted you with your first shrine maiden robe. Of red and gold, it hung loosely around your shoulders and tied around your waist with a golden sash. A set of golden threads looped into small snakes on each lapel of your robe connected with a red thread across your chest. 

When you were dressed in it, you were eager to show Taehyung, but first wanted to learn a dance to properly show the robe off. It was your first ever maiden robe and you had been training in the shrine for as long as you could remember now.  

Your mother who was growing older every year laughed as you would occasionally stumble over the long robe’s fabric as you attempted to learn the way it moved with you. That evening, Taehyung had come to the shrine to see you, having not heard a word from you all day. 

When he arrived however, you were fast asleep on the marble floor, resting against the side of the fountain placed inside the shrine of the purest sea water. A pyramid of bells rolled out of your palm as you sat peacefully asleep in your new robe.  

“Good evening, Young Prince,” your mother greeted, making Taehyung jolt. “I’m sorry if you’ve come to see Y/n. My daughter practiced too hard it seems and fell asleep the moment she sat to rest.” Taehyung looked and watched you sleep against the fountain. 

Over the course of your training and aging, he had felt your spiritual power grow alongside the power he felt in himself. He still remembers the day you finally broke him of his shell when you told him how you would train to be the proud priestess your mother said you’d be one day.  

He smiled as he walked to you, lifting your lulled head up and placing it on his shoulder as he sat next to you on the shrine floor. He looked up at your mother who was stuck between telling the prince to not sit on the floor and to just wake you up. 

“Do you mind if I sit with her for a while?” He asked as she just smiled. 

“Stay as long as you’d like,” she told him before retreating back to the castle. She later returned with the queen by her side when dinner came around and the two just stifled laughs at the young prince’s head resting on yours, you both fast asleep.  

A year passed and Taehyung had finally grown his serpent scales and eyes that would stick with him the rest of his life.  Golden scales grew under his eyes as the dark shade of them brightened to a gold you found hypnotizing.  He had initially hid his face from the palace, unable to show his scales.  It took a whole afternoon of you sitting in his room with him to convince him that it was okay and that his new scales didn’t make him scary. 

Ever since his scales and eyes came in, he had been able to hear you sing from wherever you were.  You could be in the depths of the shrine and he could be on the opposite side of the castle and he could hear your songs and feel your messages.  He could tell when you were sad or happy or sick or in pain with each song he heard.  Able to convey your emotions through your songs, he wondered why it was he couldn’t hear any other people.  

When The monks chanted their mantras or the other maidens and priestess’ sung, he couldn’t hear them.  Only your voice was heard in his ears. 

He had often spoken to his father, the king, about it. The king was unsure as to the reason as well, but passed it off as a result of your spiritual power and your control over it. However, it wasn’t until one afternoon that Taehyung realized that he could not only hear your songs from anywhere, but he could find out where you were located if your situation grew dangerous or dire.  

You were in the palace gardens studying flowers and leaves as part of your training on what plants or herbs to dry and place as offerings to the Serpent King’s spirit. Placing herbs and flower petals inside of a clay bowl, you had heard someone approach you. Turning around, you saw two men dressed in foreign clothes you hadn’t seen before. 

“Hello,” you greeted weakly as you stood on shaking feet.  Your clay bowl in hand as they just look at each other.  “I’ve never seen you before in the castle, what are you doing here?” You had gotten braver each year and as a proud standing nine-year-old, you were determined to figure out if these were the king’s visitors or uninvited guests.  

“Little girl,” one of them spoke as it made your skin prick. “You are a priestess?” 

“Uh, yes,” you squeaked.  The moment one of them moved to reach behind into a pouch they kept on their hip, you panicked.  Throwing the bowl of herbs, you closed your fist, extended your two first fingers and chanted a small protective spell. The herbs that flew towards the intruders caught fire and gave you just enough time to turn and run into the maze of hedges to hide. 

Taking so many turns in the maze you had no idea the layout of, you were soon tucking yourself away in a corner, trying to hide in the shrubs as much as possible. With each rustle of the plants and wind you grew more and more tense.  

You suddenly remembered a certain song you were taught recently that was instructed by the king for you to learn.  It was a song of calling when in danger.  If ever there was a time to test it, now was that time. So, under your breath you whispered weakly the lines of hymns you were taught. 

Taehyung was in the study with his father when the air shifted outside.  Looking out the window, he stared out into the open gardens of trees, flowers and bushes.  Even further, he could see the open sea of his island kingdom.  He wondered why the air felt heavy so suddenly.  He felt suffocated and stuffy as he pulled at the collar of his turtleneck shirt. 

The king noticed his son’s discomfort. “What is it?” 

“It just got really stuffy in here,” the prince replied, “that’s all.” Yet as he returned to his lessons, the uneasiness in his chest didn’t stop. For minutes it lasted until your name flashed into his head like a siren as his skin pricked before he was hearing you sing again.  

Taehyung jumped from his chair, pushing it back with enough force to kick it back onto the floor, startling the king close to him.  Taehyung’s golden snake-like eyes were wide as they looked out the window beyond the palace walls. 

The king slowly stood, unable to determine his son’s sudden burst of haste. “Taehyung,” he tried, but the prince’s attention wasn’t drawn. 

“Y/n,” he whispered. He walked around the fallen chair and to the window, placing his palms on the glass panes as he looked down into the gardens.  Flashes of the shrub maze playing in his subconscious as he listened to your shaky, fearful song play in his mind. He saw the faces of two strangers, a bowl of clay, fire and then your back retreating into the maze before he started to panic.  “Father,” he called in haste as he turned to the king behind him. “There are intruders in the garden and they’re after Y/n.” 

The king was quick to act.  Immediately dispatching guards to the gardens to catch the uninvited guests before they caught you.  Taehyung couldn’t settle down, even with his father trying to convince him it would be okay and that help was coming to you.  It didn’t help calm his blood that screamed to find you first.  

His gaze stuck outside, your voice still echoing in his head, your song replaying over and over again as your fear pounded in the center of his chest.  He didn’t even register himself ripping his arms out of his father’s grasp as he ran out of the castle and into the gardens to find you himself, knowing exactly where you were. 

It was two hours later when the culprits of your attempted abduction were caught and imprisoned, followed by a party of castle guards finally locating your hiding spot.  Only, they were shocked to see that Taehyung had been crouched in front of you, holding your head on his chest as you cried before eventually falling asleep. 

It was hard to explain to his parents and your mother how he could hear your songs, and feel your emotions.  It was even harder to explain how he was able to know exactly where you were and know what had happened as if he had been there himself.  It was that very evening that the king had made a decision that would affect you both in the coming years. 

“Y/n,” Taehyung had called as you were knelt in the shrine, hands clasped together before you lowered your arms and looked over your shoulder to your prince.  You were ten-years-old now while Taehyung was nearly in his teenage years.  You both were nearly the same height as you stood to come to his call.  

You nearly felt your cheeks blush in the presence of your beloved prince.  Ever since you were nine and nearly kidnapped from the castle gardens, Taehyung had become increasingly more protective over you.  This in turn created a delusional crush you held for the royal heir.  You had to be careful of your songs so that he wouldn’t catch on to your feelings each morning and evening when you sang songs of greeting and farewell to the sun and sea. 

“Yes?” You waited as you came to stand in front of him. “Do you need something from me Taehyung? I thought you had archery this morning?” You tilted your head in curiosity as he quickly took your hand in his, something he started a year ago so that he could always feel you behind him. “Taehyung?” 

“Father and mother have called us to the audience chamber.” Your mouth opened in question as your mother came up behind you.  Taehyung was quick to greet her.  “Good morning, Lady Lily.” 

“A fine morning to you, young Prince.” Your mother soon placed her hand on your back, silently ushering you on. “You can finish your morning devotions after your audience with the king and queen. It is alright,” she smiled.  She seemed to know something you didn’t, like she knew what the call of presence was for.  Though, you couldn’t ask because of Taehyung quickly pulling you out of the shrine with him. 

“Your morning hymn was lovely,” he told you as he entered the castle’s second floor, taking your hands and helping you up the staircase so you wouldn’t trip on your long gown.  

“Do you think so?” You asked, wavering on how you sang this morning. “I had thought my sound wasn’t as clear as before.” 

“You improve everyday. Perhaps if you feel it needs improvement, sip water from the shrine’s fountain. That will certainly cleanse your throat and replenish any diminished power,” he advised.  Typically, one would not be allowed to access the sea water of the shrine’s fountain, however you were the exception to that rule.  

You never knew why, but the day Taehyung offered you a small sip of the fountain’s sea water to ease your aching throat, you were permitted exclusive access to the sea’s blessed water.  As, if you weren’t granted permission, that small sip of pure ocean water would have spread like poison and certainly taken your life. 

As Taehyung led you to the audience chamber, you grew nervous.  Just what could the monarchs of your Isle be calling you about? Were you not doing a good enough job as a training maiden? Were you lacking somehow? Or perhaps you were going to be told to stop hanging around Taehyung, the future king, as often because of his coming of age. The idea of being torn from Taehyung made your heart ache.  

“Do not be nervous,” he told you, squeezing your hand.  You swallowed the lump in your throat, only nodding before he knocked on the chamber door, announced himself and you, before walking inside with you in tow. 

The queen and her husband sat in the two tallest, iron chairs behind the long, table in the large room. They watched you both enter hand in hand, just as they had seen you do before.  As the heavy door shut behind your back, Taehyung led you to a chair across from his parents. Sitting you down first, he then takes his own seat beside you. His choice of opting to sit beside you instead of his parents confused you for a moment until he took your hand in his again beneath the iron table top.

“I apologize for interrupting your morning session, Y/n,” the queen softly called. Though aged from the first time you met her, she was still carrying herself with the same grace and beauty you had remembered all those years ago.

“It’s alright, Majesty. My mother is finishing up the offering with the monks and I can return to the shrine to finish my devotion before midday.” Your voice was rigid from you trying to keep your nervousness undetected.  You felt Taehyung’s hand tighten in your grip as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You had to strain to hear the royal family’s words over the sound of your heart in your ears.

“We won’t keep you long,” the king announced.  He looked at you and then to his son before he closed his eyes.  His hands came up to rest in front of his mouth, fingers interlaced as his elbows rested on the iron table.  “Would you say you enjoy my son’s company, Y/n?” The king’s directness made you jolt. With the smallest pink tinted cheeks, you glanced at Taehyung, seeing him only looking at his father with inquisitive eyes.  

“I would. I greatly enjoy the Prince’s company.” You answered with a smile that spread unconsciously to the set of royal parents in front of you when you directed your gaze back to the pair.  

“As you know,” the queen started in place of her husband, “Taehyung is the heir to the Serpent King; however, as you may have noticed, our son has a special connection with you particularly.” You lifted your eyebrow at this.  Since when had the prince and you had a special connection?  In truth, Taehyung never told you that he could feel what you feel when you sing and can pinpoint your location as your voice carries to the sky like a beacon.  His grip in your hand falters.  

“Mother,” he warned. He didn’t want you to know in fear that you would find it invasive. What if you found out and you hated it and locked up your voice in retaliation?  He thought his heart would shrivel up and die if you stopped singing.  

“Our son is able to hear your songs from any location on the island, we believe that it’s due to not only your bond you’ve built over the years, but also your spiritual power.” You remained silent as you took in the information.  You had known Taehyung could hear you, but from such a wide scope? That shocked you.  “Taehyung and you share a special bond, that much we are certain, so my husband and I spoke with Lady Lily.”

Your back straightened as the mention of your mother. “You spoke with my mother? About what, might I ask?”

“It is our intent to have you both become engaged to marry.”

You felt your heart stop at the king’s declaration.  Engaged to marry? You and Taehyung?  Your heart began to speed up, doing somersaults in your chest as your grip on the prince’s hand slacked.  You turned to look at the preteen prince.

“Me, marry the-,” you cut yourself off, unable to speak the words.  Your young cheeks flushed hot when Taehyung turned to look at you, pulling your hand tighter against his under the table. Making up for the space you created when you pulled away.  His golden eyes burned into yours as he then turned back to his father.  

“I’m willing to go through with it,” the young prince announced, shocking you.  “That is,” he turned his sights back to you, a soft smile on his face replacing his previous look, “if Y/n agrees as well.” The queen had to hide a smile behind the back of her hand as your face wouldn’t cool down.  You looked down to the hand he held out of his parents’ sight before taking a breath.  

It wouldn’t be selfish to want this- you look back up at him with hopeful eyes- right? Smiling back after a heartbeat or two, you turned to his parents and lowered your head.

“I’m honored by the royal families decision.  If you’ll accept me, I agree to the arrangement as well.” A small talk about formalities and official announcements of the engagement later and you and Taehyung were dismissed back to your daily routine.  However, everything felt shifted now.  

As Taehyung led you back to the shrine, you stayed absolutely silent- something the prince noticed.  You were always talking to him about something, but now you were speechless and it made him nervous.  He wasn’t even holding your hand anymore, because the moment you both stood to leave the audience chamber, you had let him go. 

“I’ll properly thank your mother when I see her next,” he told you suddenly in the empty hall he walked with you down.  “Since I’m your fiance now, it’d be rude if I didn’t thank her for her permission to marry you.”

“Ah, right,” you made a small noise before acknowledging him.  He stopped in the hall and sighed, turning to you.  

“So, it is the engagement that’s making you so quiet.”  You shrunk, not wanting to be a problem.  “It’s okay. If you don’t want to agree to it, then-”

“No!” You screech, immediately covering your mouth.  You cleared your throat, looking around to see if anyone had seen your outburst and gathered your thoughts. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating and your stomach felt fuzzy from the speed of it all.  “It’s just happening so fast,” you breathed, “that’s all. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I am.” It was an odd sensation when Taehyung pulled you into his chest to hug you.  He had held you before.  When you were lost in the maze, when you were sleepy during your lessons he attended with you out of curiosity, when you both hid from castle guards who were trying to coerce you both back inside.  This time was different though.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to change,” he assured you.  As you lifted your arms to hug him back, you knew why it was so different and why any embrace from him would be different from now on.  

Because every time from this point on, forever, would be an embrace shared between betroths.  

You took a deep breath of the ocean air as the ship you were aboard grew closer to the docks of your beloved Isle.  You were returning home after a trip to the mainland to familiarize further with their culture and step closer to establishing a lasting treaty.  You weren’t exactly pleased forming relations with the world outside of your island home, but in the end it had to be done.  

On a positive note, you were returning with all sorts of new herbs and dried meat, roots and fruits that Hissing Isle didn’t have.  They would surely work well as offerings and if not, a fine snack for the castle. 

“Lady Y/n!” Someone called as you turned to look for the call.  A young man dressed in stained white and brown clothes and a bandanna around his waist had been the one calling.  “The ship will dock in just a little while.  Please prepare your things for departure. I’m sure the Prince is eagerly waiting for your return.”  The man offered you a polite, if not playful, wink before he was scampering off.  

A lot has happened since you had gotten engaged to the Serpent Prince twelve years ago.  Your twenty-second birthday had just passed as you stood on the side of the ship, your bag of belongings and mainland offers on your back. 

When you were twenty, you had surpassed your trainers and taken over the shrine as the Central Priestess.  Your abilities to harness and use your spiritual powers in both offensive and defensive strategies still awed some. In fact, you planned to use your power to enforce a barrier around the island as soon as you could. Bringing back a sacred dokkosho from the mainland, you planned to use it- combined with your powers- to protect the island from malicious intruders. 

However, years have not always been so kind to you.  Among those years, you still wish your young mother was around to see you flourish into the priestess she had known you to be.  She had fallen ill when you were eighteen and she did not last the year.  You still remember how your heart broke as Taehyung shushed and held you for days upon days, as you could do nothing but cry and mourn. You could not even sing her farewell through your tears.

As the sea breeze blew through your hair and whipped at the long, loose sleeves of your dress, you smiled as the sight of your home growing closer.  Your dress was off your shoulder, loose around your chest and tied with a brown sash around your waist as the skirt fell to your ankles.  It was a simple dress and not at all what you would typically wear when fulfilling your role as isle priestess, but it was yours.  

When the ship docked and your feet finally hit land again, you let out a breath of air.  It had only been a month, but you felt like you had been away for far too long now.  While you were gone, you had left the shrine in the hands of a monk who had come from the mainland years back.  His skills were exceptional, but his playful attitude always left you a bit nervous.  

“Lady Y/n!” The same man from before had called as you had stepped off port. You turned and quickly caught something he had tossed towards you.  Looking, it was a ripe apple. “Come travel with us again soon,” he offered as you smiled at him. 

“I’ll look forward to the next time then,” you bowed your head as you headed off. Heading through town, you were met with small smiles and children running to hold your hand and welcome you back home.  In your small kingdom, you were well known as the main priestess and many would come to you for advice.  Your position as Taehyung’s fiance added to the warmth of the island-folk.  

However, not all were as kind as most. 

A young girl hung off your arm as you humored her with your attention as a drunken man cut off your path. Your destination towards the castle temporarily halted.  Typically, you would brush past him, however the young girl at your side only shrunk away at the sight of his disheveled appearance.  

You knew this man, of course.  He often gave you a rough time, unable to swallow his bit-swollen pride and accept orders from a woman who technically wasn’t of royal blood. Spending all his time and money in taverns, you were certain if you wounded him, booze would pour out of his body instead of blood.  

“May I help you?” You sneered, tilting your chin and looking at him in a collected, calm warning.  

“It’s a shame the mainland princes’ didn’t want to keep you over there,” he slurred.  “Do us a lotta good if you stayed put on the other side of the sea.”  You remained calm as you took a breath.  You looked down to the young girl who clung to you.  This man was not only well known to you, but to the rest of the castle town.  He wasn’t exactly too well liked because of his attitude.  

When he saw the little girl staring at his stubble, unshaven face, he sneered.  “What are you looking at brat? Huh?!” The verbal attack to the youth was cut short when something was thrown at the drunkard’s head.  Stumbling back in an over-dramatic fit of drunken balance, he looked at the ground.  There lay a single, red apple.  

“Even among a basket of perfect fruit, there always has to be one bad apple it seems.”  Your arm was lifted, the only needed evidence the drunkard needed to know you had thrown the fruit at him.  “I suggest you direct your disgust elsewhere and not towards the Isle’s youth.  They will determine in the future to help or neglect you. You’d be wise to not mistreat them.” 

“Why you stuck up-” the man had stomped towards you, harshly pushing you back as he grabbed the front of your dress into his fist.  The child on your side was knocked away as she started to cry for the man to let you go as he just growled into your face.  His breath was horrid, teeth yellow and skin tinged sickly.  

“If you keep drinking, you’ll last no longer than the season,” you calmly told him even in the state you were being held in.  

“My lady!” the little girl cried, as a crowd started to gather in a murmur. You knew better than to fight back, it was against your views to harm your people- even if they act so grotesque towards you.  You would only tell yourself to grin and bear it.  

There was a sudden hush over the crowd before they could even begin to act on freeing you from the no-good drunkard, and it was without surprise as to why.  The man was grabbed by the back of his shirt collar as it was yanked back, the shirt riding up to his neck and thrusting him into cut-off, breathless panic.  

His grip on your dress released immediately as he was yanked backward until he fell over his feet onto his back on the stone roads. His eyes were squeezed shut and were only opened when the one who had pulled him back and off you squats to come closer to his face.  The man froze at the pair of golden eyes glaring down at him with brilliant matching scales under them. 

“I do believe I’ve told you before that the next time you harass my priestess, I wouldn’t let it slide,” Taehyung sneered as the little girl had rushed back to your side, hugging you around the waist as you placed your hand on her shoulders.  “Stay on the ground,” he demanded as the drunkard only nodded weakly as the prince stood back up and looked at you.  Your dress was stretched and messed up around your chest now.  

Yet, you smiled warmly to him nonetheless.  

“Welcome home, Y/n,” he greeted as he came to your side.  He smiled down to the child in front of you, petting her head. “How about I take her home from here?” He told the little girl as she ran off back to her home, leaving the crowd to disperse and the drunkard to be picked up off the road and taken back to the castle by a set of guards that were stationed in town.  “I’m sorry you had to deal with him first thing after returning.” 

“It’s nothing I couldn’t have handled,” you reassured, even if you had no intention of actually instigating a fight.  “What brought you into town? Running errands?” He smiled as he shook his head.  

“No. I felt your spiritual pressure when you landed. I simply couldn’t wait to see you after such a long time,” he told you.  Your heart squeezed in your chest as he then began to lead you back to the castle.  You asked about the shrine and how the offering and sessions were progressing.  Taehyung was curious as to what the mainland was like and you offered to show him the goodies you brought back with you once you reached the castle.  

All the while your heart pounded in your ears.  

The crush you had on your prince only kept expanding in size with each passing day since you were announced engaged.  You were sure if that had never happened, you would have grown out of it, however your love for him was deeper than the sea surrounded the island.  You were absolutely sure, however, that Taehyung would never truly love you back.  

He had always shown that you were his closest and deepest friend he had.  Loving you as his first and best friend and close companion that helped him grow.  However, you doubted he would ever be in love with you like you are with him, and the knowledge of your betrothal made such a bittersweet taste on your tongue.  

You had often attempted to talk to him about the arrangement of your marriage.  You wanted to give him the option now that he was a grown man and was able to understand what marrying you would mean.  You wanted to give him the option to choose if he wanted you to become his wife for the rest of his life or not.  And if he chose not to wed you, then you’d accept that, no matter how much it would break you.  

You never had the strength to bring it up though. Too scared of letting him go, when he truly wasn’t fully yours.  Unable to let go of the fantasy of marrying him, unable to let go of your selfishness.  

You let out a sigh as Taehyung had entered the castle with you.  He looked at you with furrowed brows and gold eyes.  

“That is the fifth sigh since town.  Are you unwell?” 

“What?” you were unaware of your unconscious sighs until he had said something.  “I’m fine. Just tired from the trip is all.  I think I just need to rest a bit before I return to my shrine duties.” 

“I’ll make sure to instruct Jungkook to keep watch over the shrine’s progression until tomorrow. Take a break until then. You’ve just returned from a long journey that I’m sure required a lot of strength.  Do not push yourself.” 

You nodded.  Jungkook was the monk in-charge of the shrine when you are absent or unable to manage it for a number of reasons.  He often watches it once a month when your body is in such pain that moving from your bed is a battle in itself.  

He was a stubborn monk, but he was well versed in his craft you had to admit.  He was different from the other monks you’ve grown up with.  For instance, he refused to cut his hair like the others who had clean heads without hair at all.  His long, brown locks curled around his ears and over his forehead, occasionally being tied back with a hair string for rituals. 

“Yes,” you agreed, “that would be nice.” 

You two had walked further into the castle when someone had rounded a further corner ahead and caught sight of you.  Speak of the devil. 

“Hey! Y/n!” Jungkook waved in his robes of black and purple, rushing towards you.  He was a friendly monk, child-like and free spirited and never addressed you properly by title.  You almost admire that about him.  He came to a stop in front of you and Taehyung as the prince suddenly drew quiet without you noticing. “Welcome back home,” he grinned down at you, standing a head taller.  

“Yes, it’s good to be back.” You smiled in greeting as you both conversed.  Taehyung watched you both talk so openly and comfortably. You often spoke without formality when you were with Jungkook. With himself though- even if you had known him since he was six- you still held a sense of formality.  He didn’t realize how much he missed your relaxed speech when you were young until he was watching you talk so comfortably with the long-haired monk. 

“I hope you won’t mind keeping charge of the shrine until tomorrow. I have to wait a bit longer for my powers to return to normal. The mainland pressure is far different than the island, so adjustment takes time.” 

“Leave it to me, it’s not so hard.” He shrugged smugly.  You rolled your eyes as Jungkook soon looked passed you to Taehyung who had been standing in silence.  He looked back down to you.  “The lovely couple off somewhere?” His chide was met with you snatching the staff he had at his side from his grasp and whacking him with it.  “Ow! What’s with the sudden aggression?” He whine sorely as he rubbed his back.  You gently handed the staff back to him as if you had done no wrong. 

“That’s your punishment for improper speech to the woman who is technically your superior,” you told him, but you both knew the real reason you whacked him.  Jungkook was the sole person you’ve confided in about your feelings for the serpent prince.  “Return to your shrine duties, I’ll be stopping by with new offerings later,” you told him as you started away.  

“Yes, yes. As you wish, My Lady,” he submitted as he watched you leave, Taehyung silently trailing behind you.  

It was silent again as Taehyung and you continued on your way to the throne room to greet the royal family and tell them of your return. They must already know you had come back since Taehyung had shown up so quickly as you landed, but it was still a requirement of the shrine’s center priestess to announce her departure and arrival.  

“You and that monk seem to get along well,” Taehyung spoke, bitterly refusing to use Jungkook's name. 

“Yes, well, he is two years younger than me.  It’s easy to speak naturally to him when he’s only just turned twenty.” 

The conversation was short lived as Taehyung didn’t speak after that and you didn’t either.  The silence was almost comfortable and before long, you were entering the throne room with Taehyung just as you had a million other times before now. 

As you grew closer, the queen sat higher in her chair. Her hair had faded to a shade of silver from age as the king’s black hair had begun to follow. “Ah, young Lady Y/n, I’m glad you’ve made it back safely. Did you enjoy your visit to the mainland?” 

“Not as much as I enjoy the feeling of being home, Majesty.” 

“Of course,” she mused.  “I’m glad you have returned. My husband and I would like to speak to you and Taehyung if you have a moment.” You looked at the man beside you as he looked at his parents with an indifferent gaze like something was weighing on his mind.  

“The wedding is next week?!” Jungkook screeched.  You had just returned to the shrine from the castle in which the royal family had decided that you and Taehyung would be married by next week's end.  “It’s so sudden,” the monk stated in a much milder tone.  

“Not really,” you told him as you removed the wrapped herbs and roots from your bag. “I’ve been engaged to him since I was young. It was bound to happen one day.” You kept replaying the conversation from earlier in your mind.  Just as it had been in the past, the moment his parents decided it, he just nodded and went along with their plans.  

The same feeling in your gut wrenched and twisted like a dying tree root. Was he just going along with his parent’s decision because he admired them so much? Was he just doing this for the sake of his people because you were the Isle’s priestess? Or, was he doing this because it was something decided so long ago and he felt like he had no way out now? 

As you set your items along the marble alter inside the shrine Jungkook watched you with soft, dewy eyes.  He knew how much your heart loved the prince and how much you kept breaking your own heart over and over again.  You never let yourself have the satisfaction of being with Taehyung all because you wouldn’t let yourself believe Taehyung would ever love you.  

“Y/n,” he gently called. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I’m sure if you told him how you felt, then-” 

“There would be no point in that,” you interrupted.  “If I told him how I felt, and he didn’t return those feelings, then the whole relationship we’ve built up our entire lives would be ruined. At least if we get married as childhood friends, I can keep a piece of my happiness when I wear a ring around my finger.” 

“But, if you just-” 

“Jungkook,” you cut him off again.  “Please, just drop it.  I’ve made up my mind, you can’t change it.”  The monk yielded as he just sighed and moved to stand beside you.  Looping his arm over your shoulders, he pulled you in for a side hug. 

“Just don’t get hurt,” he whispered. 

Three days later, a ball would be held in an advanced celebration for the prince’s wedding.  The event is grand, even invitations sent to the mainland were met with positive notes and promises to attend.  You grew more and more anxious as the ball grew closer, specifically because you were going to be in charge of the first song of the evening.  

A part of you thought it unfair.  You were in charge of singing the first song for the guests in attendance. Meaning you wouldn’t be able to participate in the first dance and even more sour tasting is that Taehyung had the option to dance with whomever he chose. It was your engagement ball too, but there was no way around it- since it was the priestess’s duty to sing after all.  

Jungkook offered to take your position and perform a hymn in your stead, but you simply told him not to worry about it. He wouldn’t be attending the ball- even if he was invited- simply because he had to watch the shrine while you would be preoccupied for the day.

Everyday prior to the ball you were cooped up in vocal training and hymn precision so as to not ruin the first dance.  The morning of the ball, you only practiced once and then saved your voice for the evening of the event.  

The castle was bustling with servants and guards running to and fro, along with the steady flow of mainland guests arriving in the town’s port.  You sat somewhere in the twists and turns of the hedge maze as you tried to steady your heart.  The wind blew softly, like a blanket of comfort before you were opening your eyes to see the prince in front of you.  

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said calmly in the wind.  

“Everything’s so busy, I guess I just wanted to escape the chaos for as long as possible,” you shrugged as he came closer to you.  You slid down the bench you sat on as he moved to sit beside you.  It was silent for a time before he spoke up again. 

“Do you remember the first time you came into this maze?” You looked at him.  “You were confronted by criminals who had sneaked into the castle grounds with the intent to kidnap you. You ran into this maze, crouched into a ball and sang. I still remember that day so vividly.”  

You looked away from him as you turned your sights to your lap.  Dressed in your common gown, your hands were folded on your legs.  

“Yes, I remember.  You came to save me that day.  I remember I was so scared, then you came running around the corner and I just started crying.” You laughed bitterly at the memory.  “Next thing I knew, I was waking up the next morning in my bed like always.” You paused, contemplating on if you should speak more or let the silence envelope you both.  “I guess you were always saving me, even all the way back then.” 

Taehyung watched you as you kept an eye on your lap, fiddling with your hands in the warm breeze of spring.  Your hair dancing in small wisps, almost hypnotizing him.  

“Mother told me you’re performing the song for the first dance this evening,” he opened in a new conversation.  “Which hymn have you chosen?” He asked.  

“You don’t already know?” You looked at him.  His gold scales reflecting off the sunlight.  “I thought you always listened to my songs,” you teased with a lopsided smile.  He returned the gesture back to you. 

“I’ve been trying not to listen to your songs the past few days, as to not ruin the surprise.” 

“Then, I guess you have no reason to know what I’ll be singing.” You both sat comfortably for a while and you even started thinking about actually unloading your heart to him.  Jungkook’s constant push to tell Taehyung how you felt nagging at your mind as you sat with him so calmly in the garden.  Now would be the perfect time, but it seemed you spent too much time thinking it over, you overran your chance. 

“Lady Y/n!” You sighed as you heard someone call for you from afar. Taehyung straightened his back, narrowing his eyes to the distant voice who had disturbed the peaceful atmosphere.  He looked to you when you suddenly stood and called back to them. 

“I’m here!” You shouted as you stood and looked down to Taehyung.  You smiled at him, but his eyes widened when he saw a small touch of sadness on your lips.  “I look forward to seeing who you’ll choose to partner with during the first dance tonight.” 

“Wait-” he reached out to you as he had begun to stand from the bench but you had already moved away from him. Disappearing behind the shrubs and out of his sight before he heard you conversing with a servant who was probably going to rush you off into preparations for the ball. He listened to your voice grow distant as he looked at the open palm of his, not able to remember the last time he held your hand. In that moment, the spring air felt colder to him in the sunlit maze.  

You’ve never dreaded putting on a formal gown more than now, knowing that you’d be wearing it to your engagement ball.  The dress itself was beautiful.  White lace surrounded the breast and around your waist to wrap around your entire torso before the lace ended at your hips to let the red skirt fall to the floor where more white lace hemmed the end of the skirt.  Your arms were covered in open fingered gloves that extended just past the elbow as the dress had to straps and rested on your chest. 

Your hair was partially pulled back, the fronts of your locks pulled back behind your head and pinned into a knot with a white ribbon as the rest lay on your shoulders. A servant had come into the room as a lace was being wrapped around your neck when another necklace was presented.  A small, red gem in the shape of a teardrop- apparently a gift from Taehyung for you to wear. You wore it along with the lace choker.  You could already feel the beginning of an ache in your feet from the heels that encased your ankle and enclosed your toes. 

You stood outside the ballroom entrance door, trying to gather your breath. You would typically enter the ballroom with your guest, but Taehyung would be appearing later on with his father and mother- fashionably late as royalty demanded. 

The moment you entered the ballroom, all eyes were on you along with a small murmur followed by an applause at the arrival of the lady of the hour. You just waved them calm before you took to mingling like a proper lady should.  Speaking and greeting the visitors who took the time to come to your island home, you couldn't get your throat to unclog. 

The anxiousness of singing, the dread of possible mistakes, the sorrow of not being able to dance with the rest of the ladies during the first dance and the ugly jealousy of whoever would be lucky enough to dance with Taehyung first. All of it stuck in your throat like a toad.

You jump when you feel a hand rest on the small of your back, getting your attention. You whirl around, ready to scold who dared to touch you so familiarly, but stopped short when you look up to Taehyung’s snake eyes.  

“Prince,” you muttered. His hand that was on your back moved to rest on your waist in your hasty turn.  He was dressed in a golden vest that matched his hair and compliments his eyes and scales. His white dress shirt beneath his vest was wrinkle-free and his trousers hung off his waist in perfection as the toes of his boots reflected the ballroom’s light. A royal blazer with embroidered shoulders and decorated lapels. His hair was brushed and parted, as soft looking as ever. You noticed a golden teardrop necklace with the chain tucked under his dress shirt’s collar as the gem rested on his chest.  

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments.  Your face is the same shade of your dress as you fiddled with your skirt.  You took a breath and looked up to him with a smile. 

“You look as handsome as always,” you told him, sincerity dripping off your tongue.  You lifted your hand to toy with the necklace that was given to you. “Thank you for this,” you said. He in turn touched his own golden gem that was nearly identical to yours. You looked around, not seeing the king or queen in the ballroom yet. “Where are your parents?” You asked him as he just chuckled. 

“I came early. I wanted to see you before the event started.” 

“Oh,” was your instant reply to the soft smile on his face.  You cleared your throat as you gathered your thoughts and changed the topic. “So, have you decided on someone to dance with while I sing?” You ask as cheerfully as you could muster.  Your resolve faltered at the look the prince gave you without speaking. Maybe he hadn’t been asked yet? 

“I won’t be participating in the first dance,” he declared with a slightly dipped brow.  “Why would I, knowing that my fiance wouldn’t be my partner?” He grabbed your hand. “I will dance and mingle through the night just as I’m expected to, but if you cannot dance in the event’s opening, then neither will I.” 

Your face grew rosy.  His words were heavy on your heart and squeezed your chest like you were drowning.  Would he ever be aware of just how much his words mean to you? Would he realize one day that everything he tells you and every praise he sings made you want to crumble under the weight of your unspoken, suffocating feelings? 

Eventually, the elder royal couple of Serpent Castle had made their appearance and your presence was requested at the back of the room in preparation. As you spoke with the instrumentalists who would replace your voice through the remainder of the night after your song, you instructed them to stay silent and keep their instruments hushed until you were finished. 

As the opening was announced, partners were grabbed, the floor was scattered with pairs and Taehyung stood behind you, his hands tucked informally into the pockets of his trousers as he watched your back. Then, you sang.  

The hymn was something Taehyung hadn’t heard before.  He had heard you sing up close before, often coming by the shrine at early morning or late evenings just to hear it clearly rather than through his serpent’s blood.  He did not recognize this hymn, yet it resonated so clearly with his serpent counterpart as his blood felt like it was getting warmer behind his skin.  It raised goosebumps on his skin under his clothes and made the hair on the back of his neck stand. 

Whatever this new hymn was, it was immediately his favorite. The flutters it put in his chest made him remove his hand from his pocket just to push his palm against his breast. He felt his heart pound under his palm as he just stared at your back with wide eyes of awe. 

When the hymn was over and the first dance of the evening concluded, there was a round of applause for your unparalleled performance and then the instrumentalists finally took over.  

You felt a weight off your chest as you sighed in relief. You had performed well in your opinion. Not missing your notes or beat, but then again it would be harder to do an official hymn rather than the one you sung.  

“Y/n,” you heard Taehyung call behind you.  Turning, you saw his eyes shining brighter than usual- perhaps it was the ballrooms light gleaming in them. “That hymn, I hadn’t heard that before.” 

“Oh, well it’s because I composed that hymn myself.” You opened your hand and started counting on your fingers. “I suppose it was a few weeks ago, but I have begun writing my own hymns- just to see if perhaps they would be as effective as those written in our books.” You lowered your hand back to your side. “I hope it wasn’t distasteful to you,” 

“It was magnificent,” he breathed in truth. “I hope you sing it often so I may hear it.” 

“I-,” you stuttered at the compliments, “of course. If that’s what you wish, then it shall be my Prince.”  

Taehyung quickly reached for and took your hand, holding it tightly as he pulled you beside him. “Come,” he told you. Leading you out among the peoples in the rooms as they danced to the tunes played by the men who plucked strings and blew into flutes.  “Be my first dance,” he smiled.  “It may not be the first, but it shall be our first dance.” 

Taehyung’s hand re-positioned in yours as his other rested on your waist as you gripped his shoulder and your feet were soon slotted beside each other.  Your chest brushing against his as the next song had begun and your feet moved with the harp and flutes tune. 

Taehyung spoke as you danced, speaking of the upcoming wedding and it’s preparations.  The set up and guest attendance will be filled with all the people in the ballroom currently, leading to him telling you that they would all be staying on the island until the wedding had concluded.  The ceremony was hopefully going to be quick and not a drawn out afternoon, as you got choked up just thinking about it.  

Of course, the toughest part of it all would be vows.  

Your vows specifically.  You briefly wondered if in your vows that fateful day of union, you would admit to him finally that you had loved him for such a long time. Or, should you keep your secret locked up in your heart forever as to not ruin what could be a happy enough marriage. You shook your head, it was clearly Jungkook’s insistent pushing to make you confess getting to you.  You had already made your mind up, you couldn’t change it now. 

The song of harp and whistles ended and you almost immediately drew yourself away from your husband-to-be.  Before he could reach out and stop you from retreating he was flocked with all sorts of visitors.  Women asking to dance- to which he cannot refuse- and men wishing to converse of trade and business with him.  He watched over a sea of heads as you ran off until he couldn’t see you anymore. 

You had retreated to a wall hidden by a table with glass flutes of a sweet alcohol. Typically, you avoided the beverages, but just this once you decided to indulge just a little.  It was a white wine, clear as crystal but not as delightful to drink as the fountain's shrine water. 

“Good evening, My Lady,” a man addressed from beside you.  You were unaware of his approach and his opening startled you. Turning, you saw a man who was undoubtedly from somewhere far inland you imagined.  “I am Duke Lethan. I watch over a small country stead far from the coast of the mainland. I must say, your song earlier was beautiful.” 

His flattery felt nothing like Taehyung’s words.  His cheap words did not make your heart flutter or your stomach toss.  Though, he was being kind and so as to not ruin the merry mood of the ball, you humored him- as much as you wanted to be left alone.  

“Thank you very much, kind Duke.” You spent a small amount of energy carrying general conversation with the duke of the mainland as you kept your guard up. You never did trust the men from off the island, your recent visit abroad having one too many encounters with rude, entitled ones. 

You smiled when you were cued to smile, and you laughed at his small attempts at humble humor, but you just wished for the conversation to end and him to be on his way. Instead, he began to persist in the idea of a dance with you. 

Trying to politely decline the offer, he tried convincing you- obviously not taking no for an answer.  Ready to put your foot down, merrymaking be damned, you felt that familiar hand on your back before it slid around to encase your waist and rest just above your white laced stomach.  It was no surprise- or perhaps it was- to see Taehyung at your side as he held you to his chest. 

“I do believe she’s already refused a dance.  Go find a different partner if you would, Duke Lethan.” Not in a position of authority to begin to argue, the duke just lowered his head and went on his way into the crowd to find some other poor woman to give in to his pressure. “Y/n,” he called as you looked up at him from where you were once watching the duke retreat.  “Dance with me again just once more.” 

He had been watching you as soon as he could locate you after you left him after your dance.  When that duke approached you and started making you smile, something in his chest lurched.  He felt irked just knowing you were conversing so happily with a stranger and not with him.  He was distracted as he danced with a lady from the mainland and he quickly left her abandoned mid-song at the look of distress on your face when the duke wouldn’t depart from your presence.  

However, he would never disclose that to you. He didn’t even understand how he felt, all he knew was that he felt better when you were beside him like this.  

“I’d be honored to dance with you again, my Prince,” you agreed with a smile up at him and the pain in his chest soothed instantly.  You chalked it up to your imagination, but it felt like during this dance Taehyung held you tighter than before. 

As the evening finally started dwelling down, guests started dismissing themselves back to their temporary rooms in the castle or back into town where their room in a local Inn was waiting for them.  You were standing outside the ballroom, fiddling with your necklace. Exhausted from the evening of non-stop mingling and dancing.  

Taehyung had pulled you away from a handful of men who seemed a bit ‘too interested in his fiance’, he claimed.  You danced with him each time he did so. 

“Y/n,” Taehyung called behind you.  You startled, not expecting to be found in your little nook away from the dwindling down madness.  He came to stand beside you, his golden eyes and scales seemed to grow faintly in the dimly lit halls of his castle. “Are you well?” 

You felt a lot of things tonight.  The burning eyes of mainland damsels on your back when you danced with the prince they knew they couldn’t even begin to woo because he simply didn’t give them the time. The watching eyes of older couples of tradition who thought it unjust for a simple priestess to marry into royalty.  The sly eyes of men who wanted to dance to you and maybe catch a grip of something more- not that you’d allow that.  And the squeezing of your heart whenever Taehyung held you and danced. 

You sighed, making Taehyung take a step closer as he raised his arm to rest on your bicep, stroking it in comfort. 

“I just,” you cut yourself off with closed eyes and a breath. “I’m just overwhelming myself and thinking about something.” 

Taehyung moved to stand closer, grabbing your arm and hooking it around and under his own as his hip was next to you.  He smiled down at you as he started walking forward, pulling you with him lightly. 

“We’ll take a walk outside. Fresh air will help,” he told you in promise.  Maybe the moonlight would shed away your worries- you could only hope. You were hardly aware of where Taehyung was leading you as you were so lost in your head.  The fact that the man beside you was going to marry you in just a matter of days spiraled in your head like a hurricane. As did the doubt of if he even wanted to. 

When you finally noticed you had been walking with him in silence for a while, you clocked back into reality and realized he had taken you back to the garden maze.  This same maze is where you first truly realized you were in love with Taehyung and would be for the rest of your life- even if you were so young back then. 

When you were in danger, and you sang- it was him who came running. It was him who found you in the maze and it was him who held you as you cried yourself into unconsciousness.  

It was also this maze where you both sat just hours before that same day, talking in the sunlight that felt so comfortable.  The spot where you realized you were going to marry your childhood playmate. Your one and only love interest and also your kingdom’s precious prince who was filled with serpent blood.  It was this Taehyung who would be your husband and your feet stopped. 

You halted in his step as your arm slipped from around his where it rested and he jerked when he felt it fall and slip away from him.  He stood in front of you, half turned back to see your arm fall back to your side and your chin dipped.  

The way the moon cast a shadow over your body should have been a romanticized look of an ethereal priestess, but the way you stood and avoided eye contact only made it grim. The prince felt his stomach twist as he straightened his back as you lifted your head to look directly at him for the first true time tonight. 

His golden eyes widened a fraction at yours, seeing something in them waver and shake.  It pinned his feet in place. Stood frozen in a half turned state, facing you as your fists balls behind the skirt of your dress, wrinkling the palm of your gloves. 

“Be honest with me, Taehyung,” you called, foregoing his title and addressing him by name.  It made his hair stand.  “Are you going to be happy marrying me?” The prince parted his lips as he looked at you incredulously. Did you not want to marry him? Was that it? Was that what was weighing so heavily on your mind? 

Ever since he could remember, ever since he got engaged to you so long ago in youth, he had known this day would come. He knew a celebration would come and a wedding would soon follow. He knew you were going to become his wife and a princess along with your priestess role.  He had always known, and he had always been impatient waiting for all those moments to come. Now, they had and he was so caught up in himself and his own feelings- had he been wrong to think maybe you’d want to marry him too? 

“Do you regret agreeing to marry me, perhaps?” He asked in answer to your question, still not giving you a proper answer. Your fisted hands uncurled just enough to ensnare your skirt’s cloth as you squeezed them shut once again. 

“That isn’t it,” you harshly breathed.  Denying so strongly that, that isn’t how you felt.  “I’m- gods, I’m overjoyed that I get this chance. I am- just,” you took a calming breath. “I want to know if you’re doing this because you want to, or because your parents told you to.” You felt guilty, playing the card of his parents. He hadn’t often gone against their wishes because they were mostly reasonable people. You feared this engagement was just another order to him. 

“You mean,” he stuttered, finally turning fully around to face you. Still not daring to step closer yet in fear you’d turn and run from the tense air. “You don’t know?” You flinched under his words, thinking for a split moment he was reaffirming that this was because his parents thought it was for the best. “I never knew you thought I didn’t want this marriage to happen. I’ve always been under the impression we agreed to this because we both wanted it.” 

You looked at him with a twisted brow.  What? What does that mean? Before you could ask him, a tear slid down his cheek.  Falling over his golden scales from his equally as gold eyes.  You gasped, stepping closer to him and the moment your hand caressed his cheek and your thumb touched under his eyes, he felt like he could breathe again. 

“Why are you crying, my Prince? Don’t cry, please,” you pleaded.  “I apologize, I should have kept it to myself,” you tried to fix the situation, but the hiccup that leapt from his throat at your words only seemed to worsen it all. 

“Tell me,” he choked as he sniffed and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “How do you feel about me as a husband?” 

“I-,” you hesitated. You could lie, tell him a fib to appease him. Though, if you did- you’d just be biting into your very own poison apple. You wouldn’t lie anymore.  “I love you, and I do want to marry you. I have ever since we were little because I’ve always loved you, Taehyung.” The word vomit spilled out in quick sentences, thinking that the speed of the words would hurt less coming out.  

The prince crumbled, his knees weakening as he grabbed your hands and pushed them further against his face.  His palm covering the back of your hand as his crying grew louder.  You panicked. 

Taehyung fell to his perfectly ironed knees as he kept your hands on his face, weeping. You panicked above him as he reeled into his mind- coming to such sudden realizations. You had been the only constant in his life aside form his very own family. You were always beside him, helping him and learning with him.  You helped him when you were little and you were helping him even now.  

Since when did you really grow up? When did he fall in love with you? 

He was so ignorant of his feelings, he had pushed them off as- he didn’t even know what.  Perhaps, he’s always known- but was too cowardly to admit it to himself and confront that love.  All while he sat in his ignorance, you were withering in your admission and acceptance to how you felt.  For so long, you had been growing more tired and the ache in your chest just kept growing because of him. 

He cracked his eyes open from their squeezed state when he felt your hand move under his to wipe his tears. Your figure was blurry, blending in with the moonlight in the maze when he snatched your wrist and yanked you towards him.  

He sighed when you fell down against his chest.  His breath stuttered with his exhale as he started to finally calm down.  

“I promise to take better care of it,” he started in a stiff, nasally tone. “So, please, give your heart to me and I’ll give you mine in return.” When you stiffened in his hold, he tightened his arms around you, burying his face into your neck where you could feel the chill of his tears on your skin. “I love so much about you, I can’t think of where to begin. Let me be selfish one more time when I ask you to never stop loving me. Because, I don’t think I can stop loving you either.” 

You’re not sure when your tears started falling, but there they were. Trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin as you rested against the prince’s shoulder. You just nodded, not trusting your voice.  

The two of you sat, kneeling in the middle of this garden maze crying for what seemed like an eternity before you both finally were able to talk to each other without tears or hiccups.  At the end of the night, Taehyung felt it far too difficult to let go of your hand when he walked you back to your room. 

“Mother,” Taehyung rushed into his parents’ room where the queen was sat at the balcony window, a cup of tea in her hands raised to her lips. “Have you seen Y/n, this morning?” 

“My, you seem to be in a hurry. Did something happen?” His mother’s question made the prince’s cheeks bloom before she was setting her cup down on it’s saucer before replacing it on the windowsill.  “Did you finally admit that you loved the girl?” She chuckled as Taehyung’s chip dropped and his mouth opened.  

“You knew?” He asked, astonished.  

“Call it a mother’s instinct, darling.” She teased.  “Plus,” she chuckled at the state of her son, “your shirt is half tucked in and your cloak isn’t properly clipped.” She rose from her chair and strode to her son’s front, properly latching the golden string across his chest to let the royal violet cloak rest on his shoulders like it should. “Must have been in a rush to see her, huh?” 

“I suppose so,” he smiled down at the top of his mother’s head.  “I’ve been putting her through so much during our years of engagement, I don’t want to be away from her when I don’t need to be.” 

“That’s a big admission from the Serpent Prince, isn’t it,” she jokes as Taehyung smiled wider and shook his head.  He knew she didn’t just see him as the ‘serpent prince’, and neither did his father.  It was just a long running tease from when he confronted them about his ‘destiny’ when he was a kid- birthed from your young, innocent advice.  His smile softened, another realization that opened in his mind of you. “Y/n was called for an early singular devotion. The waves were rough, so she set out to pray in the fountain at dawn.” 

Taehyung stepped away from the queen, thanking her before kissing her cheek and rushing off.  She just chuckled as she readied a story to tell the king when he came out of his morning shower.  

The shrine was deathly quiet as he walked through the doors as quietly as possible.  For single devotions, it was required for the center priestess or priest at the time of management to be alone in the shrine for prayers. It would heighten concentration of spiritual power. 

As soon as he entered, he could feel your power flowing through the shrine's interior like ribbons. He was one of a small circle of people who could enter the shrine anytime without reason no matter the devotion or time- a perk of being the descent of the island god. He walked through to the center fountain and just as he figured, there you were.  

Your back was to him as you were knelt in the fountain water. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your head was dipped, eyes shut and lost in your conscience. He leaned against a pillar, silent as he watched you. It was absolutely silent as you prayed, but he could stand there and watch you do nothing all day and be content.  

He pushed off the pillar when you shivered and then gasped with a jolt.  Losing your sense of balance, you teetered to the side, splashing your hand into the fountain to stop yourself from falling in completely.  The water splashed up into your face and clung to your already soaked, white prayer robe.  

He stopped mid step when you turned to look over your shoulder, seeing him there.  He felt like he had just got caught in a crime, though he was technically not breaking any rules. He saw you exhale a breath, your rigid back deflating into a terrible sense of posture.  

“It was just you, my Prince,” you breathed.  You sat back up, moving to stand from your kneeling in the water as you turned to walk out of the fountain. Taehyung rushed to the fountain’s wall, offering you his hand as you took it and watched your feet as you stepped out.  

Water followed you in a small wave when you hopped over the fountain wall and the shrine’s marble floor became wet as your robe dripped more water along it.  Your robe was nearly translucent.  

Taehyung could see the pink of your thighs and stomach all the way up to your ribs and around your back and bum.  It was proper attire to only wear a single white robe and nothing more when in singular devotion- a reason as to why it had to be cleared of all others in the shrine was to keep the body of the priest or priestess hidden from other’s eyes.  

He quickly unclipped his royal robe from it’s golden string and slung it off and around his shoulders to quickly wrap it around your wet body instead.  You greatly accepted the cover, hiding your body and what could be seen behind it’s thick, warm fabric. 

“What brings you here this morning?” You ask up to him, drops of water falling from strands of your hair.  Taehyung smiled at you, lifting those wet strands and putting them over your shoulder before he leaned to quickly kiss you.  When he stood up, you just covered your lips with your fingertips and a flushed face.  

“I wanted to see you as soon as possible, that’s all.” He gently led you to sit on the fountain wall as he sat beside you and before you could call him cheeky, you both were conversing like before.  Or, perhaps it was easier than before- talking to each other. “We’re getting married soon,” he happily reminded you as if you didn’t already start counting the days. 

“I’m very aware,” you humor him as you pull the cloak further around your shoulders. Taehyung placed his head on your shoulder and days later, when the wedding was held he was anxious all day. 

Unable to see you until the ceremony, he was restless while you were being groomed up and down, while Jungkook stood back and laughed, watching it all happen.  The prince was able to breathe again when you stood beside him as vows were spoken and promises made with them. 

You walked out of the shrine a married woman that afternoon.  That evening, you slept beside your husband and you woke up, not only a priestess, but a princess too. 

- END - 

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[cinnaminsvga]

A Boy Like You | Yoongi

→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff → warnings: an overabundance of shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to squish his cheeks; kinda ooc but it is what it is → words: 11.5K → a/n: whaddup kids it’s ya girl... back from the dead after months of not writing shit, and what’s this owo... it’s a fluff fic?? miracles do happen... anyway i wrote this bc i just thot “man, wouldn’t it be super epic if i wrote a super self-indulgent fic where yoongi fulfills every single one of my deepest desires?” well... here is THIS!! pls feel free to scream into a pillow bc i certainly did!! enjoy!!

There is a boy you know who likes to show his kindness quietly. It would go something like this:

The air is thick with static; your hair stands up on end: a warning. The scent of raindrops hitting hot pavement graces your nostrils as a waterfall drops from the sky. You see the sea of heads begin to disappear under a canopy of multi-colored umbrellas. You, the lone ranger, rush back into the building from whence you came, dragging puddles and annoyance with you.

You should have anticipated it, should have thought to check the weather app before scrolling through dull social media posts when you left your house that morning. Instead, your fingers are left cold and umbrella-less.

You tilt your head upwards, watching as gallon upon gallon fell from the sky in an endless cycle. The watch on your wrist reads 5 PM, but the sky says it is 9 PM. The dark, swirling mass of clouds above you will continue on its thunderous parade, pausing for no one, especially not for you.

Your work bag is practically weightless, devoid of anything that might protect you from the onslaught of rain. The only thing inside is a small wallet that holds nothing more than dust and a loose promise of a paycheck. There is no way you can call a taxi like this, and the nearest bus stop is at least two blocks away. You are starting to think that your childhood dreams of becoming a mermaid hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.

Then comes the hand of God. It touches your shoulder gently, hesitantly. You turn around to face a stranger, a boy with shaggy black hair and pale moonlight skin. It is not God, but he comes close.

In his other hand is your salvation wrapped in Kumamon print nylon. It is proffered to you with a silent nod, his gaze fixed somewhere behind you as he waits for you to take it. The tips of his ears begin to redden the longer it takes for you to respond. Eventually, your brain connects with your muscles as you robotically pluck the umbrella from his grasp, a stuttered “thanks” leaving your lips.

He nods stiffly once more, removing his palm from your shoulder as though he had been burned. He shuffles for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to say. You wait, patience never waning for the strange boy that you have come to know as your salvation.

He doesn’t find the words after all. You aren’t too offended by his silence, but he appears to be mortified. And so, he leaves just as quickly as he had appeared, like a whirlwind dressed in an oversized blazer flapping behind him like wings. He runs through the rain without another thought, an arm raised above his head in a futile attempt to avoid getting wet.

You try calling out to him, wanting to thank him once more and maybe to ask how you can return his umbrella, but he is long gone. A speck of black dashing through the gray.

You clutch the umbrella closer to you, a feeling of something new growing inside of you. It is too small to call anything, but it is warm.

x x x x x

Umbrella boy has a name, and he happens to work on the same floor as you. You know this because he is standing right in front of you in all his bespectacled glory.

He ducks out of view the moment your eyes meet his. There is a stack of folders in his arms, and he bows his head until his nose touches manila. It’s too late––he knows you caught him staring. He scurries behind walls of filing cabinets and desk cubicles, desperate to get back to his desk where he hopes you’ll never find him.

The office floor is large, but it is not large enough to hide in. It takes only a few minutes until you find him hunched over his desk, every inch of space taken by enough towers of paper to cover a forest. It is no wonder that you never encountered your mysterious umbrella boy; he does a wonderful job of blending in.

Your eyes trail his form, not out of any perverse intent, but just out of curiosity. You never would have guessed from his unassuming and meek nature, but the boy is devastatingly beautiful. The devil is in the details: you admire the soft slope of his nose to the adorable pout of his lips. His eyelids are charmingly mismatched and his cheeks are begging to be pinched. It takes a year’s worth of self-restraint to keep your hands at your sides, if only so you don’t scare him away before you can even introduce yourself.

(You can already imagine your HR department contacting you about nonconsensual manhandling… You admit that you tend to get overzealous with your affection, especially when confronted with cute things. This boy would definitely need to watch out for you if he knows what’s best for him.)

((Also note to self: Stop having these psychopathic conversations with yourself. Being stuck inside the cage which is your brain is torture enough, so let’s not encourage it to get worse.))

There is a lanyard laced around his neck, the gaudy orange color of your company’s logo emblazoned across the thin material. And just out of your line of sight, you catch a glimpse of his ID. His name is––

“Y-Y/N?” He stutters out–no–he squeaks. Ah, so he’s noticed you. The folder in his hand slips out of his grasp, an avalanche of white tumbling all over his lap. He curses loudly, frantically sweeping away the mess under his desk, as if he could somehow magically make them disappear if he just kicked them hard enough. Unfortunately, the papers stay stubbornly tangible, and he is left with a halo of accounting reports around his workspace as a result.

“Are you… umm…” You hesitate with your words, fearing that any sudden movement on your part might cause umbrella boy to combust on the spot. “Do you need help… picking those up?”

“I–Well, no–Yes, but–” His sentences are stilted, his brain struggling to catch up with his tongue. He clamps his mouth shut, then shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot himself. Finally, after a few more deep breaths, he goes, “No. I’m fine. Thank you for offering.” He says that, but he appears awfully content with staring holes into the keyboard of his laptop when he is speaking to you though.

“Still… I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” you say, lips tugging downwards into a frown. You should have guessed he was skittish from how he had acted yesterday, but it’s quite a surprise to see one man so… disastrous, for lack of a better term. It’s awfully cute. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself and thank you for lending me your umbrella yesterday, but it seems like you already knew who I was.”

His face does a weird thing then and there. It almost appears like he was caught in a time loop, like someone was manually reversing and replaying his facial expressions like a video. It takes a few minutes for his little stroke to settle down, but even then, his cheeks remain a rosy pink. “I–I just… remembered your name during the company retreat the other month. I’m not weird or anything, I swear!”

“Well luckily, I was never going to accuse you of being weird anyway!” You laugh, trying to ease the perpetual look of anxiety on his face. However, it only seems to worsen his nerves with how quickly his skin starts to redden. “In fact, I should be apologizing for not remembering your name, Mister..?”

“Min Yoongi,” he replies, pausing for a second too long. He must have realized his delay because he coughs awkwardly into his forearm, averting his gaze away from you in a futile attempt to become nothing more than an abstract thought.

He must be equipped with some sort of superpower, because you’re starting to feel his secondhand embarrassment flood through you like a tsunami. Are you that difficult to converse with? Does he want to be left alone so badly that he’s trying to subtlely tell you to fuck off?

You’re about to start apologizing and scurry off back to your desk in barely concealed mortification when Yoongi clears his throat, his gaze fixed somewhere to your right. Whatever caught his attention must have been revolutionary with how large his eyes are, although last you remember is that the wall behind you is the same dull jailcell gray that you have come to know and hate.

“I just… I’m sorry if I’m acting odd right now. I just wasn’t expecting you to come to my cubicle and I would’ve… I don’t know, tidied up? If I knew you were coming,” he mutters, propping his glasses back up when they start sliding down his nose. They make their slow descent back down immediately after, forever on an endless cycle of up and down his face.

“You don’t have to clean up just for me! I’m not your manager or anything,” you say, surveying the absolute disaster zone that is his workspace. For his benefit, you sure hope that he has a map of his desk and filing cabinets, as it would have been a miracle otherwise if he memorized where anything was located in his personal office sty. “Though, it would be nice if you could see the bottom of your desk every once in a while.”

To your immense surprise, Yoongi lets out a resounding laugh at your quip. Though Yoongi isn’t a mute by any means, it isn’t like he spoke with much volume either. You hadn’t even thought your joke was funny enough to deserve a strained Caucasian™️ smile, so you appreciate that he had considered that you were even slightly funny. You love the pleasant tinkling of his laughter, so genuinely joyous that you can’t help but want to make a fool of yourself just so you can hear it again and again.

When Yoongi stops, the familiar reddish hue that has made a home on his cheeks resurfaces, though it’s less from embarrassment now. His shoulders are more relaxed, and he doesn’t look like he wants to crawl out of his skin as much. He still has eyes averted away from you, however. “Sorry. I don’t know why I laughed too hard at that. I’m normally not this weird… I think it’s just the nerves.”

You cock your head to the side. “Nerves? From what?”

Yoongi freezes, mouth gaping open slightly. “I, umm…” He coughs into his white button-up sleeve, pupils shaking as he formulates a response. “Just from… work. Yeah, I just have a lot of paperwork to do this week and I’ve been, er, having difficulty relaxing.”

Yoongi visibly breathes a sigh of relief when you accept his flimsy excuse, not really lingering on the validity of his statement. “Oh, sure! Don’t overwork yourself too much, okay?” you say, smiling sweetly back at him. He stares, wide-eyed, not really sure how to go on with his life after he’d been blasted by the full force of your grin.

God, you hope you remembered to use a toothpick during lunch. Was there spinach in your teeth? Oh fuck.

“Gah,” he intones, his brain not fully cooperating with his mouth just yet. If you were any more socially inept, you’d probably be doing the same. Eventually, he clears his throat and tries again. “Uh. Yes. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Feeling like you’ve overstayed your visit, you decide that it might be best for you to leave him be before either of you do or say anything more awkward and stupid. Before you turn to leave however, you decide to extend your hand forward, hoping to erase all the previous awkwardness between the both of you and hopefully start afresh. Even though you’ve only just met, you can’t help but feel drawn to him, wanting to see him again and somehow gain his friendship. “Hey, no sweat. It was really nice meeting you, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Just Yoongi is fine,” he says, almost like an afterthought. He’s so busy staring at your proffered hand that you are afraid that you might have offended him unknowingly or something. Does he think you don’t wash your hands? Given by the fact that your office’s manager refuses to restock the soap dispensers at the washrooms, that isn’t that much of a stretch. Or maybe he was weirded out by your random handshake? Have handshakes become antiquated these days? Are the kids no longer doing it? Are you supposed to do those awful brohugs like the fresh-out-of-college interns do in the breakroom? Oh God, does Yoongi think you’re old?!

While you were in the midst of your mental breakdown, you soon begin to realize why Yoongi had contemplated returning your handshake for so long. Instead of taking your hand immediately, Yoongi rubs his own two palms together first, much like how one would when warming their hands in front of a fire. He takes care to blow on them slightly before grasping your hand firmly in his, finally bestowing you with your much awaited handshake.

“Umm..?” You stare at your intertwined hands, a little confused about the previous series of events that just happened five seconds ago. Yoongi, in all his adorable and flustered glory, releases your hand much too quickly like he’s been shocked, most likely realizing (belatedly) that what he had done might not be as clear to an observer as it is to himself.

“Oh, I – I’m so sorry about that, again.” Yoongi stutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just – my hands are really cold so I was trying to warm them up before I held your hands. I’m – I only just realized how odd that must have looked. Sorry.”

A rush of endearment and warmth surges through you as you behold this high strung boy, your heart flooded with a mix of emotions that make you feel gooey and blissful in one perfect package. No, this boy is the perfect package, all soft edges and blushy cheeks. It’s going to take a mountain and a room of vengeful deities to stop you from walking past his desk to catch a glimpse of him at this rate.

Oh God, you’re whipped already and it’s only been a few minutes since you said hello. He warmed his hand for you for heaven’s sake! Surely your enthusiasm can be excused in this one instance.

“That’s, uhh…” Now it seems that it is your turn to be at a loss of words, your throat clogged with a clump of newly discovered feelings that you don’t have enough time to sort through at the moment. The hamster running circles inside your brain has long since ground to a halt, and if Yoongi is going to keep staring at you with those charming cat eyes for any longer, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to convince the little vermin inside your skull to puppet your body again. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”

Thank you? Really, Y/N?

“It’s, uh, no problem. Really.” And with that, Yoongi presents to you his most deadly smile to date: blinding whites coupled his prominent pink gums, with his cheeks stretched like proofed dough that make his dark eyes disappear. Is there a pencil wedged inside your chest cavity, or were you just spontaneously having a heart attack? It’s hard to say; all you know is that your organs have turned to slush, and you make a mental note to send the imminent hospital bill to a certain Min Yoongi.

Cause of hemorrhage: being too fucking cute.

With your daily dose of embarrassment fulfilled, you turn to leave with short stilted steps, as if you have to force yourself away from him like those stubborn souvenir shop magnets that never come off the fridge. “I guess I’ll see you around?” you say more like a question, unsure if he’ll even want to ever see you after that disaster of an interaction. Kim Namjoon from Accounting would be entirely too delighted if he ever found out that he wasn’t the most awkward human being in the office.

“Sure? I’ll just be here. As always,” Yoongi replies kindly, same gummy grin on his face, albeit a little more hesitant. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N.”

When he returns his attention to his workspace, it serves as a signal to you that you really should be going. Before you leave, you take note of the subtle red tint of his ears that reaches the back of his neck, the gentle tremor of his hands as he reorganizes the files that he had previously dropped. It makes you feel odd for relishing in the fact that you hadn’t been the only one feeling the tension between the two of you, though that doesn’t help lessen the confusion that soon follows anyway.

Why are you so drawn to him? You have never felt so strongly for someone this quickly, and frankly it sort of frightened you. You’re too afraid to confront that blossoming curiosity inside of you. No, it’s much too soon for that. For now, however…

“Oh shit. I totally forgot to give him back his umbrella,” you curse yourself once you return to your desk. The smiling face of Kumamon looks at you knowingly, as if this had been planned all along.

Well. Now you have an excuse to see him again tomorrow, at least.

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his tenderness quietly. It would go something like this:

Company dinners shouldn’t feel like as much as a punishment as it does, but that’s just how social gatherings with semi-professional coworkers are like. No one here really wants to be there, but the carefully worded e-mail sent to the entire company clearly suggests that this was more of a “go to the party or risk getting fired” type of deal than anything remotely enjoyable. As much as free food and booze are often harbingers of a good time, it hardly makes any difference when your inebriated boss spends the entire time chatting you up in front of the presence of a dozen or so indifferent associates.

“Oh, Y/N! Good job securing that deal with Mister Park the other day. It’s all thanks to my valuable tutelage, is it not?” your manager guffaws, slapping your back with misplaced camaraderie. He leaves his warm, sweaty palm there, feeling it slide an inch lower than you were comfortable with anyone being. The smell of cheap wine on his breath is making you feel nauseous, and the tacky black and white tiled flooring isn’t doing anything to lessen the incoming migraine.

“Right,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, unable to say anything else lest you lose your job over something silly like establishing boundaries. It’s no wonder that the number of female employees on your floor has significantly dropped over the years, especially with rumors attaching themselves like maggots all over your stupid manager’s name. You wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach exploded ala Alien (1979) style with how much bullshit resides in his body and soul.

You’ve long since given up on anyone saving you, not when everyone was either too busy taking advantage of the free food or too scared to confront your shitty boss. You resign to your fate, ready to scrub yourself clean with a brick once you get home in a futile attempt to rid yourself of the feeling of his hands on you.

That is, until someone clears their throat from behind you.

Salvation comes to you wrapped in a crisp white button-up, thick-rimmed glasses, and cat-like eyes. You almost want to start breaking into Gregorian chant just then to fully express your gratitude to the deities of above for sending an angel in your time of tribulation.

“Excuse me,” the (welcome) intruder says, voice quiet but clear even amidst the cacophonous music and chatter. Min Yoongi steps forward until he is to your right, and you don’t miss the way his shoulder “accidentally” bumps your manager hard enough for him to drop his hand from your back. When Yoongi smiles at your manager, it is all teeth and no mirth, his eyes carefully blank.

Thankfully, your manager isn’t quite as fortunate in his brains department as he is in his stomach. “Oh, Yoongi! It is so nice to finally see you attend one of our social functions. You are enjoying yourself, I hope?” your manager asks, guffawing loudly despite no joke being said. You never did quite understand how some men think they are the most hilarious thing to ever exist since clowns, though you suppose your manager was only missing the red nose to complete the look.

“Thrilled, Mister Lee. Absolutely thrilled,” Yoongi says in a dead monotone voice. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, and Yoongi points a wicked grin back at you before returning to his neutral and passive “work” face.

The sarcasm flies over your managers head like you expected, though you can hardly blame the alcohol for his lack of cognizance. You wouldn’t be half surprised if you knocked lightly on his head, only to hear a resounding echo following thereafter.

“I have never seen you at any of our parties before, Yoongi. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” your manager asks.

“Sir, I’ve attended every single social gathering since I was hired,” Yoongi says plainly, his composure never faltering. He must have better control than you, because you’re sure you would’ve barely held yourself back from smacking your manager had it been you. Though in fairness, you aren’t sure if you’ve ever noticed Yoongi at any of the other parties before this one either.

“Oh really? Well then, you mustn’t have said hello before then!” your manager laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “Always so enigmatic, our dear Yoongi! Well, keep up the good work.” When your manager turns his attention to speak to another one of your poor coworkers, Yoongi visibly gags from behind your manager’s back, grimacing as he pats away all traces of that foul man’s hand germs away from his dress shirt.

“Gross. Now my sleeve is damp,” he mutters, just audible enough so that only you could hear. You laugh out loud at that, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. There’s probably a gross sweaty handprint on my back now,” you say, wincing when you do feel a noticeable damp spot near the small of your back. “Ugh, what a pig.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, making a move to get away from your awful manager. He gestures for you to follow him, and you are more than happy to oblige.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way,” you add, keeping in step with him. He leads you out of the disorienting ballroom, though he doesn’t head towards the exit like you had expected. He appears to know the building much more than you do, given by how assuredly he walks. Either that, or he could be leading you to a deadend, but confidently.

“No problem. You honestly looked like you were about to punt him across the room, though I doubt anyone would be opposed to that magnificent spectacle,” Yoongi jokes, same mischievous grin from before decorating his face. He is so different from the taciturn man you had met two weeks ago, back when he had half-hidden behind his desk like an animal being cornered. Though, that might not be the best analogy to think of, as it only painted you as some sort of predator who came after meek and soft-looking men. Which you aren’t. Hopefully.

“Oh, I would’ve done more than just that, so really he should be thanking you for saving him,” you snort, and Yoongi chuckles lightly in response. Like before, his laughter is just as pleasant as you remember. Your greedy heart yearns to elicit the same sound from him once more, for as many times as you can muster before the night ends.

You had been so immersed in trying to keep up with his quick strides that you don’t notice where exactly he has taken you. The two of you haven’t gone too far away from the ballroom before he stops right in front of a metal double door, the neon green exit sign about it glowing conspicuously in the otherwise dimly lit corridor. He pushes it open, allowing the cool evening air to blow across you and your hand-me-down dress.

“Are we… at the balcony?” you ask, though the view that greets you is answer enough. How Yoongi could have known where the balcony is, you can’t say for certain. But any sort of question dies on your lips when you see how beautiful the skyline is: the stars and city lights twinkling indiscriminately, the sound of nightlife and traffic sounding loud despite the streets being so far away, the smell of ozone signalling an oncoming storm.

This, of course, is what you imagine the view to be like. You know, if the ever reliable Seoul smog wasn’t there to obstruct any sort of magical, romantic view that you should have been privy to.

“Oh damn. I forgot the smog forecast today was especially bad,” Yoongi groans from beside you, quickly shuffling through his pant pockets for a face mask. He procurs two black masks, still in their plastic packaging, and hands one of them to you. “Jesus. Sorry about this. Didn’t expect the smog to be so bad… We can just go back inside, if you want?”

Then, you are reminded of your manager, who is basically pollution incarnate with how terrible his breath is. So, you accept Yoongi’s proffered mask and promptly put it on. “Yeah, no thanks,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the fabric. The implication of your acceptance makes Yoongi grin cheekily back at you (or so you think, guessing by how his eyes crinkle cutely above his mask.)

Now properly equipped to not inhale disgusting air matter into your lungs, you step out farther across the balcony, enjoying the way the cool night breeze feels against your alcohol flushed face. (Though, if you were being honest, the heat on your cheeks has less to do with the meager flute of champagne you had earlier and more to do with the company you currently find yourself with.)

“I fucking hate these company dinners,” you whine a little bit too petulantly, complete with the jutted lip of a child who has been forced to wait as her mother engages in an eternity long conversation with an acquaintance. You lean against the railings near the edge of the building, watching idly as Yoongi does the same. “Don’t you think that if they wanted us to get ‘closer’ with one another, they’d first want to address the fact that some of our coworkers happen to be pigs dressed in white collared shirts?”

Yoongi snorts at that, his right hand immediately coming up to his mouth to silence the unflattering sound. Not that it wasn’t completely charming to you, but you do enjoy the slight abashment that blooms across his face shortly thereafter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh like that. But, I do agree with you… I can’t say that anyone in our department is especially fond of that Habsburg motherfucker.”

Maybe it was the little bit of alcohol in your system, or perhaps it was the sudden rush of realizing that Yoongi is strangely attractive when he swears, but the laugh that exits your mouth sounds a touch too crazed for your liking. Either that, or perhaps you’re finally dying from the pollution.

Luckily for the both of you, it seems that Yoongi likes your weird laugh just as much as you like his. He tries to hide a smile before continuing, “Like, come on! I’m sorry for saying that because attacks on physical appearance is always a low blow, but why the fuck does that dude look like he’s been compressed and flattened on Photoshop? He’s got perpetual flat-face syndrome. You could -  you could land a damn plane on his face or some shit.”

The cork inside of your bursts, and you let out the most ungodly guffaw in your life. You don’t even have the time to be embarrassed by how loud your howls are, not when every word he says hits the mark a little bit too close to home. There’s nothing quite as pleasing than sharing mutual dislike for the same person, and it fills you with the utmost glee that Yoongi is no exception to that rule.

“Oh god… You’re right. You are absolutely right. I seriously can’t believe anyone can put up with him. I mean, the damned bastard couldn’t even remember my name until two weeks ago,” you say, shaking your head in disgust. The first few times he had forgotten, you had been gracious enough to laugh away his mistakes as little more than that: mistakes. But when five years pass and peanuts-for-a-brain still hasn’t deemed that remembering your name to be as important as when the “next big Game™” is, then it’s easy to understand the depth of your resentment towards your manager.

“Are you for real?” Yoongi asks, brows raised in shock. “How could anyone ever forget you – I mean, shit, uh,” Yoongi coughs suddenly, red-faced. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for him to finish. He’s still kind of spluttering when he continues, “What I meant to say is… H-how could anyone forget their employees name after working here for so long?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea. Honestly, I think he’s trying to purposefully forget everything I tell him. One time, he had asked me what plans I had for Christmas, and I mentioned to him how I was going to be visiting my parents back home, and he has the gall to ask what country I’m from. Like???” Your face contorts as if you had eaten an entire lemon, so wracked with disbelief that Yoongi can see the hypothetical question marks floating above your head. “Bitch, do I look foreign to that bastard? I’ve lived here all my life!”

Yoongi hums, thoughtful. “Your parents live just an hour away from here, right?”

“I… Yeah, they do,” you reply. You eye Yoongi curiously, watching his all-too familiar flush resurfacing on his neck once more. “Wait… How do you know that?”

“You… You were talking about them, once. To Seulgi? Yea, you were, um…” Yoongi coughs unassuredly, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his, you suppose. “It was a year ago? Something about visiting them during the weekend… Not that I was eavesdropping on purpose! I would never, er, do that…”

You don’t even register his embarrassment as you are mostly shell shocked that he had even remembered that little tidbit from over a year ago. Hell, you didn’t even remember going to your parent’s house until he mentioned it. “No it’s fine, I get it. I’m just surprised that you even bothered to remember that.”

Now it’s his turn to look at you strangely. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

You stare at him in disbelief. Fluttering of wings begin to erupt in your stomach, but you hardly have the peace of mind to fully grasp why you were even feeling so flustered in the first place. It was just that he had said it so… matter-of-fact, like there was no possible way he could’ve forgotten even if he tried. It was kind of disconcerting, but flattering all the same. But more importantly--

“Wait, you’ve been working at the company since last year? How have I never seen you before this month?!”

“Oh,” Yoongi coughs out a laugh, scratching the end of his nose. He turns his gaze away, looking anywhere but you. “I was just, umm… Really quiet? I don’t really talk to anyone unless I need to. I’m more of a listener.”

“Oh my God, now I feel even more terrible for not knowing your name! I must look like an egotistic bitch to you,” you despair lowly, cupping your face into your hands in shame. You feel another pair of cold hands clasp your wrists, and you watch in shock as he pulls your palms away with a determined expression.

“What? Of course not. You are definitely not an egotistic bitch, Y/N. In fact, you’re the complete opposite,” Yoongi whispers, so quiet that you might have imagined it. He grasps your hands tightly, like he’s desperate for you to believe him.

You stammer in embarrassment, staring wide-eyed at Yoongi as you try to regrasp your comprehension skills. It’s especially hard to concentrate with how close Yoongi is to you, the latter unaware of his own proximity. He had stepped closer towards you to hold your hand, and normally you hated it when people touched you without permission, but somehow… This was alright.

(Unbeknownst to you, this will not be the first time that Yoongi becomes your secret little exception. It’s only the first of many.)

“I-I don’t really know what to say?” Your gaze is locked on his firm grip on your hands, the only thing flitting through your mind: damn, this dude’s hands really are fucking freezing!

It takes another few seconds for Yoongi to calm down, and you know when it happens because the realization of what he had said makes itself apparent on his expression. He turns beet red in a second, stepping away from you with his arms flying off of you like those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, taking two steps away from you. You almost take two steps forward to keep the distance closer, but you have a feeling that he would keep walking away from you until you both inevitably fall off the balcony, so you smartly choose to stay away (even if it pains you to do so). You wait for his breathing to settle, all the while still reeling from his blatant confession just moments ago.

Could you even consider it a confession? Were you being delulu, or is there some sort of connection that you and Yoongi were both feeling?

“Yoongi, it’s fine! Really,” you smile wryly, raising your hands towards him open-faced, much like how you would do when approaching an agitated animal. Like a nervous kitty, you think privately to yourself. “I’m really flattered that you feel so… strongly?”

“I’m… I’m really not like this normally. Honest,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… I never… do that. Whatever that was. Umm.”

Because you’re a freak of nature and enjoy exacerbating awkward social interactions, you decide to respond to him like this: “No worries, I’m flattered, honest! But hey, maybe next time you try to give me a compliment, you could look me in the eye?” You know, like an asshole. Who points out people’s social anxieties like that? You bitch!

On cue, Yoongi’s cheeks bloom into cherry blossoms once more. “I––I, I didn’t mean to––uh!” he stammers.

“No, no, I’m sorry for even saying that!” You apologize profusely, bowing so low that he could probably see the top of your spine. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that! I’m sorry! That was seriously out of line!”

What a pair the two of you were… Like two trains crashing into each other at mach speed, continuously and eternally. A constant and ongoing catastrophe!

(The little gremlin living inside your brain is knocking at your empty skull, whispering deviously, “But doesn’t that make the two of you the perfect pair?”)

When he doesn’t respond back immediately, you have to wrack up enough courage to look back at him. You gasp audibly when you do, and you have to forcibly grip the insides of your bicep to keep yourself from squealing in pure anguish.

Because there, right before your very eyes, is a blushing Min Yoongi looking you straight in the eye with his face squished between his hands, as if he’s forcibly keeping his head locked in place. His pupils are noticeably shaking and his brows are furrowed in concentration, but he’s looking at you. Like you asked.

He’s… He’s too…

“Okay, let me try this again.” Yoongi takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what may be the most embarrassing thing he has ever done in his life. “Y… You’re a great person, Y/N. I hope you know that,” he whispers, voice trailing off by the end of his sentence.

He’s dry heaving like he’s just finished a marathon, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You’re worried if he even remembers how to blink with how intensely he’s staring you down, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him when your heart is quite literally beating out of your chest like a cartoon character from the 80’s.

“I…” You’re at a loss of words. If Min Yoongi can capture you like this with just a look, then think of how much more powerful he would be if he just learned how to use it. You’re slipping into real dangerous waters, and you don’t know if you’re just a frog in boiling water or if this is where you were meant to be all along.

“Yoongi, I didn’t mean for you to… force yourself like that, really…”

The moment breaks, finally, when Yoongi begins to cry.

“Shit!” you both exclaim, but for two different reasons. “Are you okay? Oh my god!” you reach out for him, not even thinking when you cup his cheeks in your hands. He gently pushes you away with one hand, while the other goes to scrub at his tears.

“Yes, I’m fine! A piece of dust got caught in my eye and I was too slow to blink it away,” he explains, still wiping at his cheeks. He pulls his mask down to his chin, pouting cutely at you. “Sorry. I’m not used to looking people in the eye yet. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Oh my god. At this point, you’d be surprised if your heart was located anywhere near your body. You were running purely on autopilot, so enamored by the boy in front of you that you could almost faint. He was entirely too unreal, unbelievably so. Perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to find your heart again, and you know the first place where you’d look.

“Give it back,” you mumble, and Yoongi tilts his head at you in confusion.

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” you reply, reaching over him and snapping his mask back on his face. You laugh as he splutters in surprise, floundering about overdramatically as if the elastic on the mask had done any damage to him at all. “Oh, stop it. You’re just being silly now.”

“Hey, I have delicate skin! You never know,” he jokes, but stops when you give him an unimpressed look.

“Sorry,” he laughs again. “And well, since I keep saying sorry today, and you look like you could use a little warming up, do you wanna leave this place and get some coffee? My treat.”

And really, who were you to say no to that?

And really, who were you to say no to Min Yoongi?

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his thoughtfulness quietly. It would go something like this:

A steaming hot coffee cup from the nearby cafe manifests itself on your desk one Monday morning. In your sleep-deprived haze, you had originally failed to realize that there was a hand connected to that cup and that it hadn’t actually just materialized from thin air like you had thought. After much blinking and staring, you crane your head up to see Jesus standing in front of you, his glasses still fogged from the outside chill.

“I got you a drink. I hope I remembered your order right,” Yoongi says in lieu of a greeting, a small smile gracing his lips as he watches you lethargically reach over for the cup to lift the lid open. His grin widens when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of little marshmallows bobbing up and down in your hot chocolate, bits of whipped cream already melting away from the heat. When you take a sip, you breathe a content sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut.

“Yoongi, I’m going to kiss your feet right now and you can’t stop me,” you say, upper lip lined with cream and sugar. Yoongi’s hand twitches by his side, but he doesn’t move.

“Even if I have toe fungus?”

“Especially if you have toe fungus,” you say, downing as much hot chocolate down your throat without choking and barfing all over him.

From the rim of your cup, you can see that Yoongi still has his parka on, his signature black mask pulled down his chin indicating that he’s only just arrived at the office. It makes your heart jump a little, knowing that he went straight to you first before anyone else that day.

“I still don’t understand how you hate coffee. Like, I don’t think I’d be able to be conversing with you right now if I didn’t have caffeine running through my veins,” he says, staring at you(r lips) as you chew a marshmallow thoughtfully.

You want to tell him that Yoongi doesn’t talk a lot anyway in the first place, though you have begun to notice that he’s becoming more talkative the more you hang out with him. However, you aren’t quite sure if you’re imagining it, but it seems like Yoongi’s change in personality doesn’t really apply when he’s with anyone else. On the days where you’d pass by his cubicle on the way to the water coolers, he’d still have his usual stoic expression on his face as he goes through his paperwork with the grace of a robot. When he’s with you, however…

“Says the guy who’s started drinking frappes after I suggested them to you. Don’t lie to me, Min Yoongi.” You’re giggling softly, and you can tell Yoongi’s seams are already breaking. Pink gums and straight teeth are seconds away from peaking through. You wink cheekily at him.  “You’re just as sweet as your personality is.”

“Stop, that’s so embarrassing!” he exclaims, hiding behind his hands. He’s already smiling. “I’m not as sweet as you think! I’m a mean guy!”

“Yoongi, you literally just bought me hot chocolate with marshmallows because you remembered what I like. I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body,” you retort, rolling your eyes at the prominent pout on his face.

“Not true! I stole an extra coupon booklet when I was at the grocery store the other day.”

“Ooooh, I do love a bad boy,” you say, but the two of you are already laughing hysterically. “Seriously, thanks. I really needed this today.”

“Dang, bad morning already?” he winces, having noticed the purple moons under your eyes when he had approached you. He didn’t want to mention it without you bringing it up first, but he had been worried about you since last Friday when you had left the workplace with a slammed door.

“Try bad weekend. Mr. Lee has been pushing my buttons for months now, but I seriously didn’t think he thought it was a challenge. He’s been giving me shitty filing jobs to complete like I’m some overworked intern!”

Yoongi cocks his head, confused. “Aren’t you, like… In the advertising department? Why would he make you file things?”

“Exactly!” You’re all but roaring now, but Yoongi can’t help smirking at the stray dollop of whipped cream that had somehow found its way on your nose. He pulls his sleeve over his wrist, swiping it away with the fabric as nonchalantly as possible (which is to say, he’s as red as a spanked ass when he does it.)

You don’t even notice his actions, still deep in the abyss of your rage. “And also! My shitty phone ran out of storage space the other day so I’ve had to delete all the songs on my library and I can’t find any good playlists on Spotify to help me dissociate on the train!”

“Wow, that’s a mood,” Yoongi says, chuckling. He clears his throat, an idea popping into his head. He turns bashful all of a sudden, gaze diverting upwards as he musters the courage to say, “I-I mean, I think I can help you with that last problem, if you want…”

You stop huffing and puffing long enough to appear intrigued. “Oh? Are you gonna send me a playlist?”

Yoongi splutters. “I mean! If you want it, I do have some songs that I like listening to.”

Yoongi squeaks when you smile at that, radiant and all-encompassing. He wonders how he’s not dead right now.

“Oh god, that would be great actually! Text me the link, would you?” you say, already making grabby hands for his phone. “Here, lemme put my phone number in your phone.”

Yoongi almost drops his phone as he takes it out of his pocket, staring in awe as he watches you type in your number into his phone. He has to keep himself from outright howling when he sees you place a sunflower emoji beside your name. How fitting, he thinks to himself.

When you return the phone back to him, he immediately texts you the link to his playlist. You have to keep yourself from screaming to the heavens when you see the very Yoongi-esque title, “Songs for the Sleepless,” complete with the grainy-noir-film-type playlist art to complete the look. It was just so… personal, so Yoongi, and it’s making you clench organs that you didn’t know were clenchable.

You whistle at the sheer number of songs on the playlist, with the first song being—“Didn’t peg you as a Lana Del Rey fan,” you pipe up, scrolling through his playlist with acute interest. “Kendrick Lamar and Epik High, I understand. But Lana?”

To his credit, the playlist did seem like it had a narrative of sorts, despite the eclectic range of artists and genres. You only recognize maybe ten of the songs from his five hundred song playlist, and you’re very curious to see what type of songs he connects to.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he shrugs his shoulders, though a little bit embarrassed. “Lana Del Rey could sing my obituary and I’d jump out of my grave in an instant.”

“Bit morbid but okay,” you laugh, finger ready to close your music player app when you catch sight of a song with an artist you didn’t expect to see. You reach over to tug on his sleeve, your sly smile already causing Yoongi to break out in hives. “Hey… I didn’t know you shared your name with a singer, unless, of course…”

Yoongi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when he yelps in surprise, snatching your phone out of your grip as his eyes bug out of his sockets. His ears redden, words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall as he tries to explain himself despite your raucous giggling.

“I––You weren’t supposed to––I forgot about! That was––I was just––Ugh,” he groans despairingly, smacking himself in the forehead with your phone. You’re still giggling madly, enjoying the spectacle before you as Yoongi’s ears are practically shooting out steam.

“You’re so cute.” It slips out of your mouth with such ease that you almost don’t notice saying it at all; you’re still smiling dreamily at Yoongi as he stares at you in shock, mouth still agape from his earlier rambling. You gasp loudly when your brain cells finally catch up, but by then it’s already too late. Now, the two of you were a matching pair, with your fire engine red ears standing at attention.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that,” you mutter into your hands. You wish the earth would swallow you whole right now.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that,” Yoongi wails beside you, but you don’t notice the small satisfied smile he’s sporting on his reddened face. “Y-You can’t just say things and not expect me to…”

You look up, wondering why he’d suddenly trailed off at the end. “Expect you to what?”

Yoongi, once again, defies the laws of the universe by somehow turning even redder than humanly possible. “N-nothing. Ignore me. Let’s just admit we’re both embarrassing and carry on, can we?”

“Sure,” you agree, nodding enthusiastically. “But, does that mean I can listen to your songs, Mister Min ‘I’m-a-superstar-singer-in-my-spare-time’ Yoongi?”

“I’m not a superstar! I just record songs in my free time, that’s all,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Says the guy who apparently raps as a hobby! Seriously, I can tell I’m gonna love it already.”

His gaze is turned upwards, cheeks puffed up in embarrassment. He looks like he wants to say something else, however, and you wait for him as he tries to gather the courage to say what else is on his mind. “S-say, I was wondering… Since I’m already here and all, do you want to maybe go out wi—”

“Yo! Hyung!”

A deep voice from across the office floor snaps the two of you out of your little bubble in an instant. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who it is, not when there’s only one person in the entire company who would dare wear a sushi-print tie to work at one of the most lucrative companies in the country.

Kim Namjoon hobbles over to your little cubicle space in all his sushi-print tie glory, knocking over a coworker’s potted plant in the process. Between you and Yoongi, you had been more surprised by Namjoon’s sudden exclamation, mostly because you’d never been particularly close with the eccentric man. Yoongi probably can’t say the same since he had briefly mentioned that he and Namjoon go way back, though you’re starting to have some doubts about that due to the dirty glare Yoongi was currently pointing at the sentient noodles-for-legs.

Namjoon waves cheerily at you before cutting to the chase as he envelops Yoongi in a not-too-gentle hug. “Hyung! I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t at your desk this morning so I was wondering where you’d wandered off, but of course I’d find you here at Y/N’s de––”

Yoongi promptly stomps on Namjoon’s feet, causing the younger to yelp out in pain. “Namjoon. I told you I’d talk to you later.” Yoongi smiles sweetly, but you can see the aura of danger radiating off of him in waves. “Emphasis on later.”

Namjoon pouts petulantly, but he doesn’t look all that offended. “I was just gonna remind you to ask Y/N if she wanted to join us for lunch la––OUCH! WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET!”

Yoongi appears unbothered, not even looking back at Namjoon’s shouts of betrayal. All the while, he still has his gaze trained on you, never wavering for one second.

“Please ignore my colleague. He can a bit… Unnecessarily loud,” Yoongi says, accompanied by Namjoon’s splutters of indignation.

“Umm?? I’m right here?? Your actual best friend?? Geez!” Namjoon huffs, looking at the both of you incredulously. You just shrug your shoulders, completely dumbfounded by the last five minutes of human interaction.

“As Namjoon was saying before we were so rudely interrupted… I was going to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me? Namjoon can join too, but only if he behaves,” Yoongi jokes, smirking at Namjoon’s ireful glares.

You giggle quietly at the unlikely pair, amused beyond belief at this new side of Yoongi that you hadn’t been aware of. So this is how he is with his friends… Cocky Yoongi is definitely someone you wouldn’t mind talking to occasionally, you admit.

“Sure, I’d love to. Just let me finish all this filing crap for Mr. Lee, then I’ll head over to your desk at around 12?” If you work at a breakneck pace, then you could probably finish sooner if you didn’t let anything else distract you. “Oh! And I should probably return your umbrella before you leave. I keep forgetting to give it back to you.”

“No worries,” Yoongi says. “You should keep the umbrella. I’ve got a spare anyway.”

Namjoon’s head whips toward Yoongi at that, staring at him skeptically. “Dude. Ain’t that your favorite Kumamon umbrella though? Didn’t you almost murder me that one time I forgot it at the McDonald’s last mo––WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET! I’M GONNA GET FLATFOOT SYNDROME!”

“Not my problem,” Yoongi replies, pinching Namjoon’s nose for good measure. He turns to you, waving goodbye. “See you in a few?”

You stretch your back, psyching yourself up to get back to work. “Right. I’ll text you when I’m done okay? See you at 12-ish!”

The boys make their leave, bickering all the while. You catch wind of a bit of their conversation as they turn the corner, their voices echoing down the hall.

“Hey, I noticed that you were looking Y/N in the eye when you were speaking. Why don’t you ever look me in the eye when we talk!”

Yoongi snorts, flipping him off. “It’s because you’re not as nice to look at. Simple as that.”

In your seat, you smile secretly to yourself, butterflies erupting in your chest. Filled with newly found fervor, you chip away at the pile of work on your desk until it starts to vanish from view.

Before you know it, you’re off to see Yoongi once more.

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his vulnerability quietly. It would go something like this:

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his love quietly. It would go something like this:

Your day begins with a phone call: a warning. Your boss tells you to come into work as soon as possible, not a note of enthusiasm or friendliness in his tone. He ends the call just as abruptly as it had come, the silence following soon after deafening your ears. Your heart races marathons in your chest, and your brain goes to the worst place it can go.

Your hands are sweating gallons upon gallons as you shrug your coat on, fumbling with your keys as you struggle to place them in your pocket. For a brief moment, you think about calling Yoongi for moral support, but think better of it. You don’t want to bother anyone, especially not him.

You, the lone ranger, walk out of your apartment and into the murky urban outdoors, the first pitter-patters of rain making their descent the moment your foot meets the pavement. You don’t have quite the energy to go back inside to grab your umbrella, not when you’re unsure if you’ll be courageous enough to leave your bedroom once more if you did.

You’d always been a coward, a soft-hearted fool. Content with shouldering the consequences of your actions without another word: a sufferer in silence. For the past few weeks, you thought you might have changed. You’d been smiling a lot more, laughing a lot more. Your cheeks were often more red than any other color these days, and it was all thanks to a boy you know.

He was shy, but brave. Quiet, but talkative. Mysterious, but vulnerable.

He made you realize that there was no need to settle for one side of a coin, not when you could have both. The longer you stuck around him, the stronger your desire was to become… more.

You wanted to be open; you wanted to be known. You wanted to be able to ask for what you want, and never feel the crushing sense of guilt that usually came afterwards. You wanted to be unapologetic, wanted to keep your hands open, waiting for good things to come your way. To never cower in the face of a gift being handed to you. You wanted to have all that life has to offer––

(Him. Him. Him.)

But there is something pitiful about being unable to keep your own promises. The embarrassment of returning to the state where you once were, of turning meek at the first sign of adversity. The dreams of a happier life drifts away from you like mist under the morning sun, and the pressing weight of the world once again makes its home on your shoulders.

And so, you do not cry when your boss tells you to pack up your things within the hour.

You do not cry when you cut your finger on the corner of your desk that had never been replaced during your five-year stay at this company.

You do not cry when one of your potted plants smash to the floor when you try to carry too many things at once.

You do not cry when co-workers you’d only barely spoken to come over to your desk with showers of condolences, as if you’d already died.

You do not cry when Kim Namjoon walks over to you, quietly bending down to help you carry your boxes down to the lobby.

And when all is said and done, you most especially do not cry when Min Yoongi runs to you with his lungs burning in his chest, glasses still fogged up from the morning cold outside. His hair is in disarray and his shirt is on backwards, as if he’d jumped out of bed the moment he knew something was wrong. When he skids to a halt right in front of you, the pain etched on his face is as plain as day.

Wordlessly, he takes the last box out of your hands, placing his car keys on top when he can’t hold onto them both. His eyes flit towards your clenched fists for a second, but looks away the moment you notice. Instead, he walks out to the elevator, and you follow soon after.

You do not cry when Min Yoongi helps you load his car with your things. You do not cry when he takes a first-aid kit out of his glovebox and puts a band-aid on your finger. You do not cry when he offers to pass by the local home depot to pick up a new plant when he notices yours is gone. You do not cry when he doesn’t treat you like your life has ended.

(But you feel it. Pricking along your eyes like a dam about to break. He is doing this to you. He’s making you feel again, and it fucking hurts.)

And so, he drives you home.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Yoongi starts after a while, tapping a rhythm away on his steering wheel as he waits for the morning rush traffic to subside. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, worried when you don’t respond. You keep your head pressed against the cool car window, staring blankly at the gray skyline.

“I… I hope you don’t mind if I play you something. Just… Just listen to it, okay?”

You don’t see him, but you hear his fingers switch their tapping to his phone as he unlocks it, searching for the song he wants you to hear. It takes a moment or two for him to find it, soft curses tumbling from his lips as he goes through his Google Drive for the unfinished draft that he hadn’t meant to show you until it was complete, but well––

You were always an exception to him, weren’t you?

The first notes come creeping up from behind you, and it reminds you of the way Yoongi would speak to you. All soft whispers and gummy smiles, like he’s restraining himself. Slowly but surely, the music grows louder, more confident with its sound. You can picture Yoongi standing upright, hand outstretched towards you as he asks you to follow him.

The song is unfamiliar, but there’s something about it that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. You’re trying to go through your memories, sorting through the hundreds of songs that Yoongi has made you listen to but none of them seem to ring a bell. You’re still trying to figure out if you’d heard this before when the lyrics finally start.

“Lost in the sea of my regrets, you became my polaris.”

Yoongi’s voice comes from the radio speaker, jolting you from your seat. Your spine straightens, and you stare bullets at Yoongi’s phone as the song continues to play. When you look towards him, Yoongi’s face is a statue; the only thing giving away the fact that he was with you at all was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“The shadows, which had been my haven, no longer feel as good as they once did. You, my light, have changed all of that.”

You gasp, and Yoongi’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. It seems like the two of you stop moving at that moment, neither of you daring to breathe. Even the outside traffic sounds muted compared to the sound of your hearts hammering inside your chests.

“I’ve long since forgotten to pray, but I will remember for you. I only dream of happiness for you, my morning light, my northern star. And I’d give it all up for you.”

Yoongi notices your tears fall before you even do; he’s quick to fluster, scrambling through his car side door for a tissue to hand to you, but he stops the moment he feels your hand fist the elbow of his sleeve. He turns to look at you, all blotchy and tear-stained, but beautiful all the same. And even through your tears, you smile just as radiantly as when he had first seen you.

“Thank you,” you mouth, fingers trembling as you fight to keep more tears from falling, but nothing can stop a dam from breaking. Not when you’re sitting beside the hurricane who broke it in the first place; it was the boy with feelings that never did quite fit in his body the way other people’s did.

Luckily, they fit right in with you.

When the song comes to the end, you’re sniffling up a storm, but you still haven’t let go of him. When you’re only a few minutes away from your apartment, Yoongi parks a little bit far off from your doorstep, so you have to walk the rest of the way home. But you’re still unwilling to let go, not yet.

Gently, Yoongi pries your hand away from his sleeve and you’re about to protest, but the words die on your lips the moment they form when Yoongi rubs his hands along the side of his slacks before placing them in yours. His hands are still cold, but comforting all the same.

“Let me walk you home?” he whispers.

You nod. Of course, you want to say. But he knows what you mean, anyway.

When he goes to unpack your things from the trunk, you shake your head, stopping him from moving any further. “I… I don’t feel like sorting through those things right now. Is it fine with you if I just… Go home for now? Please?” Your brain feels like lead in your skull after all the bottled up tears had finally escaped from years of constant pressure, and you don’t think you’re quite ready to go through all those emotions again. You feel deflated, but better. He always makes you feel better.

Yoongi closes the trunk, locking his car before stretching out his hands for you. You stare at the proffered hand for a moment.

“Oh, right.” Yoongi goes to rub his hands to warm them, but you stop him once more in his ministrations. He looks at you, confused, as you grab his hand from him. You rub circles into his palm, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

“You’re always warming your hands for me… So this time, I’ll warm them for you, okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he tugs you along towards the sidewalk and keeps you close to him. As he walks with you, you notice the way he leans slightly to the left, like he’s drawn to you––like he can’t help be more than an inch further from you.

You keep glancing back down at your linked hands; he’s shaking, but then again, that could also be you.

You arrive at the gate of your apartment quicker than you would have liked. Neither of you move to separate; when you look back at Yoongi, you see that his eyes are trained on you. He doesn’t even flinch away like he used to. His lips are pursed, like he wants to say something but he’s still too afraid to.

So you say it for him instead.

“Do you have… somewhere to be?” Unlike you, he still has a job. He still has commitments. He still has a life outside of you. You’re hit with fear, once again, at the sudden change in your circumstances.

You might never get to see him again. Is this where your paths cross, never to intersect again? Your stomach drops at the thought, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, I don’t. I could…” Yoongi trails off, glancing at your apartment with soft hesitance. “If… If you want me to…”

Yes. Please. I’d love it. I love yo–– ”Yes. Stay with me?” you mumble.

“Always,” he promises.

The pair of you trudge up to your apartment, passing by the prying eyes of housewives with your heads bowed in embarrassment. They don’t miss your pinkies linked behind your backs, nor the subtle blushes on the apples of your cheeks. Thankfully, they don’t comment when Yoongi enters your apartment after you, but they do giggle when his coat gets caught on the door handle in his rush.

When the two of you are finally alone, the air isn’t as awkward as you had feared. You work like two cogs in a machine; he readies your TV and scrolls through your Netflix for a movie, while you go to your kitchen and have a small mental breakdown (while also microwaving some popcorn). Soon, the two of you are snuggled into your small couch, elbows barely brushing against each other.

You’re only half paying attention to the generic action movie that Yoongi had put on; you were still deep in your thoughts. You’re picking away at your hangnail, worrying your lip as you try to enjoy what might be the last time you’ll ever get to hang out with Yoongi again. You’re so deep in your musings that you don’t immediately feel when Yoongi wraps his arms around your shoulder, nestling your head into his chest.

“W… What?” You crane your head and stare at Yoongi in shock, but he’s already returned his attention back to the movie. His cheeks are burning.

You’re still stiff with tension despite his comforting caresses against your hair, so he changes tactics and brings your hand up to his.

You think he’s just going to hold your hand, but he keeps bringing your hand up until it gently caresses his face. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he curls your fingers until only your pointer is left unfurled, and casually uses it to poke himself in the cheek.

He leaves it there for a second or two, and when you finally turn to face him, he’s smiling so sweetly at you that you almost feel compelled to cry again. His eyes and nose are all scrunched up, rose petal gums on full display. Your finger is still pressed gently into his soft cheeks.

“You said you liked to dream about poking my bread cheeks. Well, here’s your chance,” he says, like it’s nothing at all. As if what he has done was as simple as breathing.

Yoongi’s smile brightens when he feels your form relax against him, giggling softly when you go to pinch his cheek for good measure.

“Bread cheekies,” you say, like you’re in a trance.

Yoongi nods. “Bread cheekies,” he repeats. “And it’s all yours.”

There’s a promise in there, you know. Somehow, he had sensed your worry and had thought of the perfect way to calm you. Like always, he never has to say it. He’s never needed words, anyway.

The two of you stay like that for hours. The sun sets as surely as the moon rises, and Min Yoongi stays with you through the night. When your mind drifts off and only your steady breathing fills the room, Min Yoongi brushes a small kiss against your forehead.

“Dream of happiness, my love,” he whispers into your skin, just when he thinks you’re asleep, “I’ll dream of you, too.”

It’s a promise that he keeps.

There is a boy you know who never learned how to say he loves you, but it never mattered all that much to you––not when he’s willing to show you over and over again. It goes something like this––

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #coworker!au #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #bts suga #bangtan #bts fanfic

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 9)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~3,050

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6  | Part 7 | Part 8 

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl  @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world  @forvever-ddaeng @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @apurpledheart @ggukkieeee​ @witchxlove 

“So… will you run away?”, for some reason you were the one trying to avoid Jungkook’s eyes as he shot that question at you.  

You knew deep in your heart that you are overreacting because you harboured some feelings which you really should not have in the first place. You knew even deeper down that you too, were a fangirl at heart who had a “fantasy” of what kind of person Jungkook was. These were the reasons why you were particularly hurt by his actions. That is not to say that what he did was right, but you knew that if it was someone else who did the exact same thing to you today, you would not be as angry as you are now.  

Yuri must have felt the stifling silence last for too long.  

“Anyway it’s better if we drive over, why spend money grabbing a cab at this time?” she whispered into your ears before turning up her volume and raising her eyebrows at Jungkook, “Your car is parked in the basement I would assume?”

Jungkook squeezes into the lift next to you and you shifted closer towards the angled metallic corner, contemplating once more whether to hit that button that said “B1”.  

Just as you reached out to press it, a much longer and slender finger darted out of nowhere and did the job for you.  

“Yeah, I parked it at the basement,” Jungkook replied to Yuri.  

---

In the brightly lit carpark, Jungkook walked ahead towards his car. Yuri and you followed behind him as Yuri tried to convince you that someone should take the assistant driver seat.  

“It’ll be too rude if both of us sit at the back, and I think ideally you should be the one in front,” she reasoned.  

Jungkook unlocked his car and you could see him looking towards the two of you. Yuri made a short dash to the opposite side of the car from where Jungkook stood and was about to open the backseat door when she sees you approach Jungkook directly.  

“I’ll drive.” your tone was instructing.  

He looked stunned for a moment, “Uhh... it’s ok I can just-”  

“Either I’m driving or we are not taking your car.” the determination in your voice was unwavering.  

He pursed his lips and slowly nodded.  

You stretched out your head to catch Yuri’s eyes above the roof of the car, tilting your head as if telling her she better hurry get in the front door on the other side instead of the back.  

Yuri looks nervously at you, then at Jungkook, then back at you. With an undetectable sigh, she slid into the front seat of the car.  

---  

The drive was less awkward thanks to the music that filled the air in the moving metal container. Very occasionally, you winced a little from the pain in your shoulders when you had to turn the steering wheel. Yuri looked at you with concern but since she had no idea what had happened to you yet, you just shook your head to indicate that you are fine. After parking right outside the police station, you frowned when Jungkook alighted from the car and locked it.

“You don’t have to come in with us, it’s late, you should head back, thanks for lending us your car for the trip here,” you said rather crudely.  

He looked unsurprised, “I didn’t come all the way here just to head back immediately,” he wasn’t trying to sound snarky but for some reason you always felt a dash of mockery when he spoke. He cleared his throat a little as he ignored your stares and headed into the building.  

---

“I told you, I have no legal guardian! She's not my guardian! You can try to call her, but I'm sure she’ll just ignore your call or scold you for calling her,” a rather shrilling voice was directed at a police officer looking tired and frustrated.  

“Umm.. Excuse me, I’m looking for Detective Park Moon...” you asked a uniformed policeman sitting close to the entrance of the police post.  

“Oh? Are you Ms. Y/N? Here! Here!” the tired looking police in plain clothes shot up from his desk waving at you.  

As if instinctively, Yuri and you were alert at the attention that his shouting drew towards your crowd. Immediately both of you started scanning the surroundings and you noticed how many people had noticed who was part of your party.  

“I think you should go, we can’t get things done while having to be concerned with you here” you turned to Jungkook and uttered in a hushed tone. You were not sure if you made it sound like he was a nuisance but you were just genuinely concerned by the situation.  

Uncertain how he understood your intentions, you observed his features that had a steeliness to them. “I don’t think it’s in any way wrong for me to be here when this incident occurred partly due to me” he replied with a firm tone before forging on ahead deeper into the crowded station.  

You pulled Yuri aside slightly and told her to contact Sejoon. She concurred and headed out to make the call in a quieter place while you calmed yourself as you made your way towards the culprit who was clearly a teenager.  

---

For the tenth time in the past three minutes, you regretted taking Jungkook’s car to the station.  

“Oppa! Can you at least take a selca with me?” her voice sends goosebumps down your back as you approached, not out of fear but out of amazement.  

“Were you the one who followed up to the filming location and locked her in the washroom?” Jungkook asked tonelessly.  

“Yah, it was me. Oppa, tell me what’s the real reason?” she whined.  

Jungkook’s eyes grew slightly wider, “Real reason for what?”  

“You can’t really be dating her right? Even your saseang fans don’t believe that you are dating her since you only met her recently and there were no signs of it before” she talked really quickly but in a lowered volume.  

“Hey hey young lady, you are not the one who’s supposed to be asking questions around here,” the detective quipped.  

“Hi, Detective Park,” you finally reached his table to introduce yourself.  

“Hey, you are not really dating our Oppa right?” the girl questioned you in the most straightforward manner possible.  

You ignored her and spoke to the detective instead, “She’s the one?”  

“Yah, I’m the one!” she stood up to almost match your height while blurting, “I locked you there and sprayed water all over you. To be honest... if I was strong enough to carry that bucket of mop water, you would have been in a sorrier state than-”

“Sit down” you said, with the kind of force that did not manifest in volume but in its charisma.

You did not actually expect her to follow your orders, but for some reason she bit her lower lip lightly and sat down whilst mumbling. There was a brief moment of silence. You glanced at Jungkook who was still standing, rather out of place, across from you. Perhaps she didn’t want to seem too unruly in his presence. He met your eyes for a second, but then quickly looked away; you were used to this by now.    

---

It felt like a million years before you finally made it to a private questioning room at the back of the station. Yuri had returned and your party of three were now tucked into the dimly-lit windowless room with the defiant girl. By now you had her name – Kala, or at least that was what you heard Detective Park call her. After some persuading, Detective Park had agreed to let you guys talk to her alone. At least in your mind, the goal was to assess if she poses any future threat.  

“You said earlier that there were other sasaengs? Are they involved in this too or was it only you?” you questioned her.  

“Why would I tell you anything?” she snorted.  

“Detective Park spoke to me just now. Because of your age, if I decide not to press charges they will just let us settle the matter privately” you explained.  

“So what do you want from me?” it was funny how she sounded more demanding than you did.  

“Apologise to her!” Jungkook shouted. 

But at the exact same time you were demanding, “A list of the sasaengs you know..” 

Jungkook and you clearly had different endgames in mind.  

“Isn’t it too much to ask for both” she stared at you whenever she spoke meanly. 

“I’ll drop the charges if you give us the list of the other sasaengs you are aware of” you offered.  

He must have been baffled at how your priorities were wrong.  

“How is that even important? She needs to apologise to you for what she did!” he huffed.  

It did make you think for one moment but you answered a little too quickly for your own good, “In my line, nobody apologises to us for such things and we don’t expect it but our job is to prevent-”

“Your job? She didn’t do it because you are our bodyguard, she did it because she thinks you are my girlfriend!” Jungkook raised his voice exasperatedly.

Kala was squinted at the both of you before cutting in, “I guess we are not wrong when we say you are not really his girlfriend right, Imposter?” she broke up your argument with Jungkook.

“Don’t call me that... and also for the last time, we are not here to answer your questions, do you get-” you were increasingly annoyed at her.  

She scoffed with a glint in her eyes as she stood up and took a step towards you. “I’m sorry for what I did to you...” she paused and stared you down almost challengingly, “... and I will give you a list of the sasaengs I know.”  

Needless to say, her sudden change in stance shocked all of you.  

“What... why are you... what are you...” you were stammering, while Jungkook and Yuri frowned at her suspiciously.  

“Oppa,” she suddenly turned to Jungkook, “I am not a sasaeng...” she uttered, causing Jungkook to scoff faintly. “Oppa, I know you don’t have to believe me but I will show you with my actions. I believe in you. If you are doing this, there must be a reason why. I won’t pester you about it anymore, I'm just happy to know that you are not really dating her in real life” her smile was odd but you finally realised why she had a change of mind.  

Jungkook must have been shocked too as his mouth was slightly agape but there were no sounds coming out. 

“Kala... umm I think there’s a misunderstanding here, actually I-” you grabbed onto her wrist in your desperation to try to salvage the situation.  

She flings away your arm forcefully before side-eyeing you and proclaiming, “You are a very unbelievable fake, just so you know that, none of us would actually believe you were real.”  

You blinked, trying to wrap your head around the feeling that engulfed you; it has got to be your shoulder hurting the swing, of course, it has to be. However, all these years if there was one thing you learnt as a fighter and a bodyguard, it’s that the pain shouldn’t stop you from doing what you need to. Swallowing hard, you thought about it once more.  

You grabbed Kala’s arms tightly and strongly this time. “Well, you better believe it, because if you or anyone else doesn’t, then your Oppa here will be in some trouble” you stated unequivocally.  

“I know that” she responded haughtily, trying to struggle out of your grasp, looking warier this time around. You eventually let go and she turns to address Jungkook with that same smile, “and that is why I will show you with my actions. This will be our secret.”  

---

On the way out of the police post, Jungkook twirled his car keys in his fingers while contemplating his best option.  

As Yuri and you walked past him, he suddenly grabs hold of Yuri and handed her the key.  

“I’m a little sleepy, I think I shouldn’t drive... and... uh... she drove here... so it’s your turn...��� his ears were flushed red because he stammered really embarrassingly, how is this the best reason he could have given after thinking over it so many times.  

Yuri looked surprised but surprises are probably nothing new around here anymore, so Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief when she took the key and made her way towards the driver seat.  

In the backseat of his own car, Jungkook stole glances through the rearview mirror trying to catch a glimpse of you.  

“Ah by the way... did you call Sejoon?” you suddenly questioned Yuri.  

“Yeah, he said he was still caught up at the company and he told me only to let him know if there’s anything to worry about,” Yuri replied.  

“He’s still at the company at this hour?” you gasped.  

“Yeah... something about having a meeting with Yeonjoo’s managers too...” Yuri mumbled.  

“Oh...” you replied somewhat knowingly, sadly.

---

That night you lay in bed for a long time. As long as the night was. Going through all that had happened from that fateful dinner all the way to being called an imposter in dimly lit questioning room.  

Why did it feel like it was you being questioned in the confines of the cold dark walls?  

A tear gathered at the corner of your eye. You turn to lie on your side, momentarily forgetting that you had hurt your left shoulder. Wincing, you turn to the other side instead, this time the tear that had gathered dripped onto your pillow.  

“Imposter...” Kala’s face kept appearing in your mind.  

“Well, you better believe it,” your own words also rang in your mind.

“Well...” you thought to yourself, “you better stop believing it...” before you closed your eyes, trying to find some peace in the dead silence of the night.

---

Yoongi was bored out of his mind during the meeting they were having and he kept fiddling with his phone so much so that Sejoon tapped his thighs and gave him a little signal to focus on the discussion.

He sighed and put down his phone and Sejoon looked curiously at him.  

“What?” he mouthed.

“You hungry?” Sejoon whispered?  

Yoongi looks at his phone displaying a sleuth of delivery food options and turns it off.  

---

“I thought you were hungry just now, why aren’t you grabbing lunch?” Sejoon asked as Yoongi headed towards the recording studio after the meeting ended and he told the boys he won’t be joining them for lunch.  

“Ah, that” he digs out his phone again and handed it to Sejoon, “I wanted to order something to deliver to Y/N’s dorm, she’s resting today right? Is her shoulder better now?”  

Sejoon looked surprised while catching hold of Yoongi’s phone, “Uhh... I’m sure she can order her own food.”

Before Sejoon ended his sentence, Yoongi grabbed his phone from Sejoon’s arms, “Forget it then.”  

“No no no!” Sejoon snatches the phone over, “I think we should still send her something and since you are feeling generous today, why not... we send her some-”

“How about that sashimi platter thing? Wow they even deliver that now? Can someone with a fracture eat sashimi? Is it good for them?” suddenly the words were pouring from Yoongi’s mouth as he cut into Sejoon’s sentence. 

“I think she’s allergic to that, maybe we should go with the chicken soup or something” Sejoon replied as he eyed Yoongi a little too closely. 

“Oh she is?”, Yoongi gasped but notices Sejoon’s stare. “Hyung, you decide then, just give me my phone back when you are done” he put up his nonchalant front again as he turned to head to his studio.

---

Everything seemed augmented, you were submerged in a room full of water, but you had no difficulty breathing. A sharp ringing and a muffled banging kept coming from the door. You struggled to go over, but the current in the water kept you from it.  

“Who is it? I need to get the door...” was all that ran through your mind.  

The banging grew louder and louder, clearer and clearer and suddenly everything morphed into reality. You stir awake. Lying in your bed, you realised that the painkiller you took earlier must have knocked you out.  

“Coming...” you shouted weakly as you dragged your heavy body from the sheets.  

Finally you pull open the front door to your apartment and came face to face with an impatient young man.  

“Here’s your order,” he quickly shoves a paper bag into your hands and turned on his heels to leave.  

“What- I... Hey! I didn’t order anything!” you shouted after him but he did not even bother.

You took the package inside and checked the contents – it was chicken soup with abalone and the order sheet clearly stated your address. You left the brown bag on the kitchen table, having insufficient capacity to try to deduce where it is from or who it is for.  

Hazily, you stumbled to the couch nearest to you and plopped down into the cramped space even though a longer couch was just a few steps away. Good thing at least you made sure to lie on your side which was not suffering from a swollen shoulder.

You vaguely heard a familiar tone ringing in the stillness of the apartment. Sounded like your phone ringing. You frowned slightly at the thought of having to move again and bargained in your own mind. “It’s probably nothing urgent right? Nobody will die just because I miss one phone call right?”

And then the ringtone stops, much to your relief.  

The frown had just about faded from your forehead when the doorbell rang this time.  

In a bout of annoyance-fueled energy, you pushed yourself out from the sofa and beelined for the door, eyes half-opened.  

“Who is it?!” you spat in the most annoyed tone you could manage in that state of sleepiness as you burst opened the door.  

Jungkook’s face showed how much he was taken aback by your “welcome”.  

“Me- uh... I mean it’s just me,” he stuttered while looking like a Christmas tree decorated with a dozen different shopping bags hanging from his arms.

#series: flfl #btsboulangerie #bts fanfic #bts fan fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fan fic #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook fan fiction #bts fan fiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x oc #jungkook x oc #bts romance #jungkook romance #bts drama #jungkook drama #bts au #jungkook au #kpop fanfic #kpop fan fiction #bts #bangtan boys #jeon jungkook

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 18.5 OR Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

It’s funny how things come and go in life.   The longer you live and the more things you experience, you realize just how fickle living can be. The events that you anticipate the most come and go while the ones you dread linger. The people you expect to stay with you leave — and the people you expect to leave end up staying.    Similarly, the internship that you had been so worried and excited for was finally finished.    It was sad to say goodbye and to leave the shop behind. You genuinely loved being there, learning and spending your time perfecting your craft. Even bratty Yuna was sad to bid you farewell — the two of you had grown fond of each other over the months, so you sent her a card right when you got home yourself and you heard from Namjoon that she had pinned it on her wall.   Luckily, you knew that this goodbye wouldn’t be a permanent one. It was different to other goodbyes you’ve had in the past.    Namjoon and Sejeong assured both you and Jungkook a million times that it was only temporary — that they’d be happy to hire you back after your schooling is finished if you so happened to choose to work for them again. And it’s a proposition that still interests you greatly. You’re not sure what Jungkook wants to do — but you know you’d love to return and continue making wedding cakes under their mentorship someday.   But for now you had to return on your path.   The end of Summer was quickly approaching, and you find yourself coming back to where it started.   Well. Sort of.   In actuality, you were standing on Jungkook’s parents’ doorstep. Suitcase in hand. Full of hesitance and uncertainty. Fingers kept away from the doorbell. You’re not sure if this is a place that would welcome you again. But Jungkook had insisted. He pressed on, insisting that you should visit his family again, to at least come see him for a few days with the Summer that remained left.   He whined about how much he missed you. And you had to admit, you missed him too.   So here you were, like a complete idio—   “God, okay! I’m throwing out the trash now!”   The door opens.    The boy freezes. He stares at you with rounded eyes as you stare back at him. He’s dressed in a worn t-shirt and gym shorts, flopping hair sticking out in all directions like he just woke up even though it’s well past noon. One hand is on the handle, the other is holding a black garbage bag.   Slowly the corner of your mouth quirks. “Hi.”   A stupidly big grin plasters across Jungkook’s face and spreads into his cheeks as his eyes light up with mirth. Jungkook’s voice softens. “When’d you get here?”   “Just now.”   He drops the garbage and is about to come and hug you, but something shoots out from between his legs to engulf you in a tight embrace instead.   “Y/N!” Eunbi’s summer dress flutters in the breeze and you lift her up as best as you can with a smile.   Lia follows quickly behind, wearing a big smile and she turns over her shoulder. “Y/N’s here!”   “She’s here?” Someone comes stumbling from the kitchen, throwing her kitchen towel aside.   Jungkook’s dad comes out from the backyard, having heard the ruckus. “She’s here.”   “She’s here!” Eunbi repeats in giggles and your arms widen when Lia joins in greeting you with a hug.   Jungkook sighs wistfully, separated from you by his overbearing family members.   Yet, all the worries you had about being welcomed or not instantly vanishes.   They greet you warmly — Jungkook’s dad asking how you’ve been, how exams and classes and the internship was. You’re bombarded with curious questions and enthusiastic answers, only spared when Jungkook’s mom pulls you to the kitchen where she has a whole countertop of food prepared.   She wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so she made everything she could when she heard you were coming and you can’t find it in your heart to reject her hard efforts. So you consume as much as you can before Eunbi tugs you aside to join her tea party with Lia. You find out their parents have gone for a last-minute trip, so they’ve been staying at their aunt’s and uncle’s, obviously having a blast by the looks of it, especially now with you here.   It’s only when Jungkook turns on a Disney movie and makes them sit down to watch that he’s finally able to sneak you away.   “Sorry about that.”   He shuts the door to his room, sighing at how difficult it was to get a hold of you in his own house.   “It’s okay. I love your family.”   “That makes one of us,” Jungkook mutters and sulks. “You try spending twenty four hours a day seven days a week with them and see how they can drive you nuts.”   “Aww, poor baby. Your family cares about you, how horrible.” Your voice drips of sarcasm and you feign sympathy, reaching over to pat him on the back.    Jungkook scoffs but takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you. He leans down enough to accommodate for the height difference and he props his chin on your shoulder. His nose digs into your hair, breathing in. You’re ticklish from his grip. “Jungkook…”   “I missed you.”   “It’s only been what?” You rest your head on his shoulder, giving into his warmth. “Two weeks?”   “Long enough.”   “School starts in another week. If I didn’t come, you still would’ve seen me.”   “Yeah, but what if I died before then and couldn’t see you ever again?” he whines and it’s hard to resist the small smile tugging at your lips.   But you manage to pull away from him and roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”   The boy grins and takes a seat on his chair by his old computer desk while you plop down onto the edge of his bed. “So….what have you been up to?”   “You act like we haven’t called and texted each other every single day.”   “Yeah, but I don’t know what the trip was like up here.”   “Fair enough,” you hum. “I guess all that really happened is that I sat next to this really handsome man on the bus here who shared my interests and hobbies. And we had a hot, passionate summer fling and we decided to make this a long-term thing, so we’re getting married. Sorry to say, Jeon, but you’ve lost your chance.”   You laugh and his eye twitches.    In an instant, you’re being pinned to his mattress with Jungkook hovering above you. His knee wedges between your legs, hands pressed flat next to your head. The dark strands of his hair grazes against your forehead and you sink deeper into his pillows. But even in such a compromising position, you can’t help but muse how cute he looks feigning anger like this.   “I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re always testing my patience, brat. You really think I won’t kill you one day?”   “You wouldn’t.” You quirk your head to the side, hands grasping at his forearms. Your eyes glimmer with a challenge before they flicker up to the posters lining his wall. “Not with IU watching.”   He grins, a small laugh coming from his nose. “Jieun would understand.”   You snort and he helps you sit up. “Do your parents know…?”   “No. Otherwise, you’d be on the phone with my grandma right now. They’re overbearing enough as it is.”   You nod. “They don’t think it’s weird that I’m here?”   “No.” Jungkook scoffs. “God, they love you. Isn’t it obvious? They think you’re a ‘good influence’ on me. Better than Taehyung and Jimin are, at least. Those two are just idiots no matter where they go, so my parents are always concerned that all of us will get into fender benders.”   He uses air quotes when he says ‘good influence’ and you bat his arm. “I am a good influence on you.”   “Uh-huh.” Jungkook eyes you skeptically. “They should see you when you get mad—”   “I don’t get mad.”   “—and when you start swearing. Or the amount of dirty, dirty things you can say…”   “Jungkook,” your whine tapers off when he suddenly lays a hand on your upper thigh. Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes and heavy gaze flickers down to your lips. He starts to lean in, head angling and your breath catches in your throat in eager anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut.   But you never feel the velvet texture of Jungkook’s lips against yours.    Instead, there’s a loud knock that startles you both to death. Then, the door opens. And the boy, whose lap you were nearly perched on, is already back on his desk chair, whirling around.   “Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook’s dad is smiling wide. “What are you guys up to?”   “We’re just talking,” his son deadpans. “Is there something you need?”   “Nope.” The middle-aged man who uncannily has Jungkook’s eyes leans on the doorframe with arms crossed casually. “Just thought I’d pop by, see what’s going on, let you know your mom thinks you two can bring Lia and Eunbi into town to pick up some groceries….”   “Okay. We can do that later.”   There’s a terrible, awkward silence as Jungkook’s dad hangs around. It makes the younger frown. “Is there something wrong?”   “No.” He shakes his head, slowly starting to turn away before Jungkook dies in modification. But then he stops and looks back with a smile playing at his lips. “You guys should keep the door open though. House policy. Not mine but your mother’s. You know...she doesn’t want any funny business happening.”   “Dad.”   “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” His hands are lifted up in the air and he laughs it off. The older man pushes the door so it’s wide open and then waltzes away.   Jungkook’s sigh is long enough to empty out his lungs and you giggle at their interaction.   The walk to town is lovely. The end of Summer keeps the weather from sweltering or being uncomfortable. It’s warm with a brisk wind kissing against your cheeks.   You consider just how cozy this town is, small houses and big lawns, white picket fences and scalloped shingle rooftops. The grocery store is modest too and several people greet Jungkook when he enters, asking how he’s been and if you're someone special to him.   It’s a place where everyone knows everyone and it’s cute. You never considered Jungkook to be a small town boy, but it’s somehow fitting.   “We need to get apples, cucumbers, scallions….” He flips over the list, trying to discern his mom’s chicken scratch as he pushes the shopping cart. “Uh…..that either says potatoes or tomatoes.”   “Can we get this?!” Eunbi holds up a box bigger than her body. The doll inside is smiling.   Jungkook doesn’t even glance at it. “No.”   “Awww.”   The four of you walk down the cereal aisle and Jungkook stops for a detour. He picks two to compare and concentrates too hard for such a menial task. “I didn’t know cereal was on our list,” you say while peeking over his shoulder.   “I like cereal,” he mumbles.   In spite of taking a full minute on deliberating what brand he wants, Jungkook ends up settling for both. He places them into the cart and continues pushing it down the aisle while humming. You keep a watch on Eunbi in the meanwhile to make sure she doesn’t get lost, but soon Lia comes back with something in hand. “Y/N, can we please make this together?”   The seven year old has a bright, red box of chewy fudge brownie mix. Automatically, you and Jungkook’s faces twist in abhorrent disgust.   “It says we just need...egg, water, and oil!” she reads off of it proudly.   “No, we don’t need a box to make brownies,” you coax with a smile. “We can make it fresher. A few more steps and it’ll taste worlds better than the box.”   “Really?”   “Really.”   “Yay!” Eunbi’s loudly cheering in the middle of the grocery store, arms in the air and hopping up and down. “We get brownies!”   “What’s even in here?” Jungkook takes the box and flips it around. His eyes narrow in on the tiny letters of the ingredient list. “Sugar, enriched bleached wheat flour? What’s carrageenan? Pft, artificial flavour?” He arrogantly tosses it aside. “We don’t need that. We’re professionals.”   You snort. “Uh-huh. A professional who doesn’t even know how to make a moist cake.”   “At least I can temper chocolate,” he bites back without skipping a beat — without blinking or taking a breath. When Jungkook sees your shocked expression, he laughs heartily and throws an arm over your shoulder, nuzzling into you. “I’m kidding. Kidding.”   You scoff, throw his arm off of you. “No, you aren’t.”   “Are you fighting?” Eunbi grabs a hold of your shirt, tugging lightly.   “Only because Jungkook is mean,” you tell with an exaggerated pout.   It’s his turn to be offended. “You just said my cakes weren’t moist!”   You ignore him. “Let’s go, children. We don’t interact with bullies.”   Lia and Eunbi giggle, happy to go along with you and leave Jungkook in the dust, scrambling to roll the shopping cart behind you.   Eventually, the groceries are paid for and the walk back turns out to be equally enjoyable.    Once the four of you arrive back to the house, his parents are out working in the garden, so you and Jungkook put away the groceries together and pull out the necessary ingredients for brownies.   “We can probably make two batches.”   “I wanna do it with Y/N!” Lia immediately exclaims, jumping to your side. She leaves her younger sister frowning and on the verge of tears.   “No, I wanna!”   “How about me?” Jungkook stands in the middle of his own kitchen at a complete loss. It causes laughter to bubble from you.   “Okay, all three of us can do it together and we can verse Jungkook. How about that?”   They nod and Lia tells her cousin that he’s going down, teasing him mercilessly and you indulge them about how you’re better than Jungkook in everything at school ��� something he adamantly protests about.   Soon, all of you get to work. You teach them how to preheat the oven, grease the pans, and watch as the half cup of butter is melted in a saucepan. Lia and Eunbi help you measure out one cup of sugar and they each crack an egg into the butter.    Three quarter cups of cocoa are shifted into the mixture along with a half cup of flour, a quarter teaspoon of salt and a quarter teaspoon of baking powder. You show the two girls how to fold the ingredients gently together and you catch them a moment before they’re about to spoon the batter into their mouths.   They give stretching smiles and you help them spread it into a pan instead to bake.   It’s put in for half an hour, slightly underdone so it’s sweet and still gooey.   “It smells wonderful in here,” Jungkook’s mom gasps as she enters, taking off her garden gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Did you make something special?”   “Look auntie!” Eunbi is jumping, hands jittery, on a sugar high. “We made brownies!”   “Did you now?” She peers over the counter, brows raising. “My goodness, they look amazing.”   “We helped make them with Y/N,” Lia announces, mouth smeared in chocolate.   “Did you thank Y/N yet for showing you how to make them?”   Both girls instantly whirl around, thanking you with bashful and shy smiles. In the meanwhile, Jungkook’s mom is unable to resist and reaches over for a brownie. She groans at the taste and smacks her lips together.    “Don’t eat too much or it’ll ruin your appetite,” she says — much like how Jungkook often reminds you — and ironically bites into her brownie again. The woman turns to you. “These are delicious, dear.”   “They weren’t too hard to make.”   “You should show me the recipe, I’d love to bake these again.”   “I’ve made these before!” Jungkook complains in a higher pitched voice, eating his own brownies when no one takes them out of his pan.   But no one pays mind to him. Not his mother or his twirling cousins. “Of course, I can.”   You, on the other hand, do pay attention to Jungkook. You grin at him as he glares. And only later when there’s a moment of privacy will he tickle you as revenge for making his entire family love you more than him. It’s then that he finally gets the chance to kiss you too.   //   Dinner with the Jeon family is as you would expect it to be. Everyone inhales all the food and chit chats with one another. There’s warm banter shared across the dinner table as his parents make him talk about the trip to Tahiti, how the internship was and if he was on his best behaviour.   He gives you discreet, defeated looks to show how he’s so done with them and it’s hard to stifle your giggles.   Afterwards, you help him do the dishes as his cousins turn on a movie to watch and his parents finish off the brownies you made. Not long after that, everybody begins to retreat to their rooms.   “Aw, do we have to go to bed?”   “Yes. Don’t you want to help plant the flowers tomorrow?” Jungkook’s mom smooths out her hair. “Only big girls can help and you can only get big if you sleep and get strong.”   “Okay.” Lia sulks. “But can I at least say goodnight to Y/N?”   “Yes.” The older woman offers a rather maternal smile. “You can.”   Lia runs to you down the hall right as you leave the bathroom with your toothbrush in hand, catching you off guard. She hugs you tight. “Goodnight, Y/N!”   Eunbi is hot on her sister’s heels and you stumble back when she throws herself at you too. “Night, night, Y/N!”   “Goodnight, you two.”   “Can we play tomorrow?”   You ruffle the five year old’s hair. “Course we can.”   She beams and hops back, following her aunt. Her uncle is already inside their room, holding up books. “Who’s ready for story time?”   “Me!” Lia runs off and waves to you.   At the same time, Jungkook leaves his room to see their retreating forms and scoffs. “Wow, are they not going to wish me a goodnight?”   You slap his arm, laughing. “Stop being so jealous all the time. I can’t help that I’m so lovable.”   He scoffs and affectionately pokes your forehead with his index finger. “I can’t even argue with that.” The corner of his mouth curls and you grin.   Jungkook has that look in his eyes — the one you’ve learnt to recognize. He looks like he wants to kiss you, like he’s about to do it too, but the pair of you are interrupted by someone lingering in the hallway.   “Y/N, you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom, right?”   His mom looks at you and you nod quickly. “Yes, I am.”   “Good.” She relaxes and bobs her head. “Jungkook, you go back to your room now. There’s a long day tomorrow.”   He sighs, but doesn’t argue.   Jungkook turns right back around into his room and keeps the door slightly open for a second, enough to give you an incredulous look. It makes you smile and mouth ‘goodnight’ to him before he shuts the door.   His mom brings you to the guest bedroom, helping you set up for the night and asking if you need extra blankets and pillows.   “Are you sure everything’s okay?”   “Yes, it is. Thank you, Mrs. Jeon.”   “If you’re ever cold, feel free to grab anything from the closet.” When you nod, she gets to the door. Jungkook’s mom is about to turn off the light, but lingers. She twists around to share a smile with you. “Thank you for coming, Y/N. I’m glad to see you again.”   “No, thank you.” You’re caught off guard by her words of gratitude. “Honestly, I didn’t want to be such a bother.”   “You aren’t. Trust me.” She laughs, a tinkling sound emitting from her chest. “I’ve always wanted a daughter like you. Jungkook is two more handfuls than I can handle sometimes, especially when he was young.” The older woman shakes his head with a fond expression. “He might not look like it but he’s still very much a child. I worry about him being gone so far for so long out of the entire year. So, I’m glad there’s someone like you looking out for him.”   You’re touched by her sincerity, but you can’t help but feel like she’s gotten it wrong.   You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other. “Mrs. Jeon—”   “You can call me auntie, if you’d like.”   You nod timidly. “Jungkook actually looks out for me a lot more than I do for him. He really helped me through a lot of tough times, so really, I should be the one thanking him….”   She smiles, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing. “Then I’m even more grateful that Jungkook’s not hopeless. It’s good that the two of you have one another.”   Part of you wants to tell her that you’re unequivocally in love with her son. But by the twinkle in her eye, you get a sense that she already knows the true nature between you and Jungkook.   You don’t need to say it aloud or make any announcements.   Her smile becomes more tender in the small silence and then she finally bids you a goodnight, flicking off the lights in the room.   You end up laying there for a while. You receive Jungkook’s text telling you this is so dumb and you laugh. The bright lights of your phone eventually burns your eyes too much, so you throw it aside, opting to stare at the ceiling and listen to his house.   You can hear doors closing, footsteps, the flicker of the hallway light turning off and more doors closing. Silence settles in for a good ten minutes, but before you can completely drift off to sleep, your door cracks open.   A familiar boy sneaks into your room with a soft sigh. He shuts the door silently and nimbly avoids all the creaks in the floorboards, knowing where each of them are after growing up and spending his childhood in these four walls.   “You’re not supposed to be here.” You sit up, covers pooling around your waist.   His feet slide and the mattress dips underneath his weight. “And I care because…?”   You scoff. “Rebellious, aren’t you, Jeon?”   “You don’t even know the start of it.” He grins. “I just want to lay with you for a while. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”   “But your parents don’t know that. What happens if they catch you here?” you ask while peeling back the covers anyhow, happily inviting him in.   “Nothing will happen. It’s okay.”   “Yeah, but they might hate me...for tainting their son.”   “Impossible.” Jungkook settles in and pulls the covers up to keep you warm. You cuddle yourself into him and he props his chin on top of your head. “And they don’t care about that. They just don’t want any Jeon grandkids, or at least not until we graduate.”   “Psh. You’re going to have to prove yourself before you implant anything in my uterus, Jeon.”   His nose wrinkles at your euphemism, but then he pokes your side, making you squirm. “Prove myself? Haven’t I already?”   “Just cause I let you kiss me a few times doesn’t mean I have plans to make this long-term,” you tease and this time he’s the one scoffing.    Jungkook rolls on top of you, pinning you underneath him. The soft glow of the lamp posts outside on the suburban street comes through the window and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you’re able to discern a few of his features — especially that sulking expression of his.   Jungkook’s such a baby sometimes. Or at least he likes to be babied by you. Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin would shit themselves if they saw him now. But it makes you happy to be the only one who can see this endearing side of him.   “What more do you want to put me through, hmm?”   You cock your head to the side. “Who knows, you might just get bored of me in a few weeks, Jeon. Better not to jump the gun.”   “I don’t think so. What do you take me for? Someone with that low of an attention span?”   “Well…” You draw out the syllable. “Last I checked, you still don’t know how to make flowers with gum paste.”   His tongue clicks in annoyance and he starts to tickle you again at your weakest parts. You squirm underneath him, giggling as your legs kick to no avail. It makes the bed squeak, the headboard hitting against the wall and Jungkook laughs and quickly lets up. He covers your mouth with his palm. “Shush! You’re going to wake them up.”   You peel off his hand, harshly whispering, “You started it.”   Jungkook’s smile is big enough to make his cheeks hurt. He missed you — your company, warmth, the teasing banter. It’s hard to fathom that his best friend is actually here with him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.   Jungkook leans down, locking his lips against yours. Your soft mouths slots against each other like it’s the way it always should have been and he relishes in the groan you release.    It’s a gentle kiss, one that merely tests the waters and then he pulls away.   You blink up at him, breath leaving through your parted lips that now taste like his vanilla chapstick. “No funny business, remember?”   “I know.” Jungkook gets off of you, resuming his place by your side. “But I wasn’t planning any ‘funny business’. Where has your mind gone too?”   Your cheeks heat. “I’m just saying.”   He chuckles softly, arm slung across your waist. You’re pulled close as he nestles in. It’s easy to relax and your hand lifts to wrap around his back. The both of you hold each other for a while in the comfortable darkness underneath the cozy covers. You’re lulled in his company.   “Jungkook.”   “Hmm?”   “You can’t fall asleep here.”   “I know,” he mumbles.   But contrary to Jungkook’s words, he does fall asleep with you — sharing the same bed like those nights in Tahiti. Only in the morning, when dawn breaks and the morning light comes through the glass windows are you both naturally shaken awake.    It’s then that Jungkook scratches his bed hair flopping in all directions, eyes swollen as he stumbles back to his own bedroom. And you drift back to sleep with a softened smile on your face.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts reader insert #jungkook reader insert #btsboulangerie #LET'S GO Y'ALL

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Type 2

Word Count: 10,755

Overview: You were diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in high school and ever since then, you’ve been able to manage it without a problem. Sticking to a schedule and monitoring your blood was easy, but then came Jimin and suddenly, you found yourself hiding it all from him. But when your blood sugar drops dangerously low in the middle of the night, Jimin’s the only one you can call for help.

Pairing: Jimin and Reader

Genre AU/Rating: - Established Relationship AU - Medical Condition AU - Slice of Life AU - Angst - Fluff  Rated: PG-13

Warning: In order of appearance-: Implied bullying, extreme thirst, lack of appetite, weight loss, passing out, type 2 diabetes, drinking, swearing, insecurities, needles, mention of blood while using a blood glucose meter, extremely low blood sugar.

A/N: This is not the story of everyone who goes through Type 2 Diabetes. Not everyone has it when they’re in high school. This fic is loosely based on my experience with caring for my mother who is diabetic, and based on my own family’s history with this condition. My mother who almost her entire family is diabetic, so it was only a matter of time that she would become diabetic, except she was able to keep from being diagnosed until her mid to late 50s. That is not to say you can’t be diagnosed as young as high school or even in middle school, it can happen, I went to middle school with a girl who had a pump in 8th grade. This is just one story.

Master List:​

Music Playlist:

Part of the Intimacy Anthology Project

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It first started in high school.

But when you actually sat down and thought about it, the early symptoms were there a year prior in eighth grade. More often than not, your throat was dry, so you always had a water bottle next to you. Back then though it wasn’t as bad. Plus, any conversation with one of the girls who wore makeup every single day – it was always shocking when they announced that their mothers let them – swore that drinking a gallon of water a day, would help with maintaining clear skin.

Whether or not there was logic to this declaration was to be remain hidden – many years later you would learn that actually, there was no science between drinking water and having acne free skin – you and all the other girls hopped on the train. It was because of this promise of clear skin, that no one batted an eye when you began going through a bottle a day, or the fact that you were using the bathroom more often as well.

You were fourteen. Your body was changing, nothing made sense anymore. Happy one minute, then curled up in fetal position as that depressing Sarah McLachlan commercial played on the TV, and you were telling your parents that they needed to adopt a kitten because it was the right thing to do. How were you even supposed to know that what was happening, actually wasn’t all that normal?

Mom simply handed over your water bottle, a bag of the secret stash of chocolate, and a heated rice bag for the cramps, and everything was decently better.

You only thought the sudden extreme thirst was…part of it all.

In freshman year, you were going through bottles to the point that you bought a cute reusable water bottle that you decorated with stickers, never willing to admit how many times you had tipped it back for it to be empty. You weren’t exactly the poster child for going green and advocating climate change, but you weren’t stupid either and knew that the plastic bottles weren’t going to help the Earth.

The popular girls from eighth grade had surged up the ladder, and were now the queens of the freshman class and upturned noses. No longer were they giving compliments or suggestions on how to blend eyeshadow, or discussing the latest trends in fashion. Instead, they ignored the good mornings in the hallways from girls, and laughed as they slammed textbooks out of their hands. Smiles turned into grimaces, and helpful tips morphed into jeering and mean comments usually centered around everyone’s looks.

While you tried to not let their lies get to you, you couldn’t help but pause by a mirror and turn every which angle possible, trying to see the flaws that they pointed out all the time. It was confusing because to be perfectly honest, you were average. There was nothing that made you stand out from the crowd, nor did you hide in the shadows, you were simply in the middle and that never bothered you.

You never gave them the satisfaction of letting them see how their words affected you on the simple fact that they didn’t. Maybe you’d shrug, or raise an eyebrow, before turning away to drink from the trusty water bottle by your side. They meant nothing to you, but everyone around you thought that they did. Friends were quick to jump on the reassurance train, their gazes lingering on the food you barely touched. Even when it was taco Tuesday, you’d barely eat half of it or even less before getting full.

No one seemed to believe that you were full, or that drinking two whole bottles of water by noon made it impossible to shove more than a few bites down your throat.

Dinner was always hard. Sat between mom and dad, the looks they’d give each other as they watched you push at the small amount of food on your plate never went unnoticed. You’d lost track of all the times that mom came into your bedroom to ask if everything was okay, if the girls at school were saying things, or if there was perhaps a guy you were trying to impress. If only you’d gotten a dollar for every time someone asked you that, you would have been a millionaire by sixteen.

Soon you were making excuses to not have to eat around people, saying that you had made up a plate of whatever was left in the fridge and weren’t hungry. At school you started bringing a brown bag lunch. Since you weren’t eating the food you bought, it didn’t make sense to waste money on it. It took a while for your friends to get that you just weren’t hungry, but eventually they knew not to bring it up, letting you eat as little as you want and drink water.

That was fine with you. You were fine, that was what you told them and you wanted them to believe them. You didn’t want them to know that every night before bed you stood in front of the mirror on your wall, turning side to side and every which way to see the new curves from your chest to your hips, or the gap between your thighs.

They didn’t need to know that you despite the fact that you’d refill the water bottle three times a day at school, you’d refill it four additional times at home. Or how your belt now had extra holes that you had punched in it an attempt on your part to keep what was happening a secret.

Every weekend was reserved for sleepovers, movies, and at home facials with you and your friends, equally rotating between everyone’s house to keep it fair on who hosted. It was how you were able to relax and have fun, but it was hard to hide the sudden changes. At first, you started arriving already in your PJs, that way none of them had to see you change, but then they stared as you barely touched any of the snacks. The same ones that you all used to bake together. Then every time you got up to use the bathroom they’d sigh, having to pause the movie or wait for you to come back to continue playing whatever board game was out.

After three attempts, you stopped going to the sleepovers, giving some excuse that you weren’t feeling well, or that you were behind on a pile of homework. Whether they believed it or not, your friends accepted it without a second thought.

Those months of confusion and sudden changes felt like they were moving at a snail’s pace, but then one day you blinked and it was two days before Christmas, and none of your clothes fit you anymore. Everything was hanging on you, you were in the bathroom multiple times within a couple hours, and your throat felt like it was filled with sand that no matter how much water you drank, never seemed to offer any relief.

It was a vicious cycle that no one could ignore anymore. You weren’t yourself anymore, barely even a shell of the human who you had once been.

The morning it happened you had once again been in the bathroom going pee. When suddenly, your head felt heavy, too burdensome for your shoulders, so you leaned back against the wall to relieve yourself of some of the weight. Black dots filtered in your vision as you cleaned yourself up, the toilet flushing as you stumbled to the sink. The water rushed from the sink as you stood in front of the mirror, barely able to make out your own reflection and going fuzzy when you walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the water or the lights as you left. You didn’t remember even opening the door.

Someone had been walking by at the moment, although they didn’t know it, you felt like your mind was underwater, unable to think let alone speak as you tried to go back to your room. It was your mother. She stared wide eye at you stumbling around the hallway like a drunk and when she called out your name, you didn’t even hear her.

She called your name again. Then a third time. It was on the fourth that you looked over at her, your mouth moving and filled with sand, only nothing come out. The last thing you saw was her running towards you. Then it was dark.

The next time you’d open your eyes it was with a stark realization that you were no longer at home. A glance to your left revealed box monitors and tubes of all types, one of them connected to the IV in your arm and the other going to a monitor that was attached to your pointer finger. The bed wasn’t comfy and at some point, someone had changed you out of your PJs and into a light green hospital gown.

The door opened as a nurse in blue scrubs walked in, her blond ponytail pulled high up as she carried a chart, smiling when she saw you.

“Good to see that you’re awake,” she said, coming to your side to read the numbers, marking some notes down. “How are you feeling?”

Wetting your lips, you tried to speak but like always, your throat was dry.

The nurse glanced over and seeing your struggle, held up a finger as she walked to the connected bathroom, water suddenly running before being turned off as she came back with a plastic cup.

“Go slow,” she instructed, helping to bring the mattress up so you were sitting as she gave you the cup.

It took a few minutes, but when your throat wasn’t so dry, you tried again. “What happened? Where…where are my parents?”

She was changing out the IV bag for a new one, and you wondered if your body had really emptied that packet dry. “You passed out hun, but don’t worry, your parents just went to get some snacks from the vending machine. I’ll go get them and then the doctor will be right in to explain everything.”

“Am I okay?”

Her badge turned right side, showing her ID and that her name was Jenna. “Everything will be fine. The doctor will explain and answer any questions.”

You watched as Jenna connected a new IV bag, once again reassuring that she’d be back with everyone before leaving the room as the cold liquid entered your veins, surprising you with how good it felt.

Jenna kept her promise. First bring round your parents who hurried to hug you, telling you how worried they were about you and asking how you felt. In only a few short minutes the doctor came back with the nurse, smiling as she pulled out a chair to sit on.

It wasn’t cancer, nor was it anything uncommon that would puzzle the doctors on how you got, but rather something that you had heard of all the time in health classes.

You were diabetic. Type two to be exact.

They had run some blood tests and from what they were able to tell, your blood sugars had dropped low during your sleep and hadn’t gone back up when you woke. Combined with the loss of weight and dehydration you were experiencing, your body’s natural instinct was to protect itself and, in this case, that meant passing out.

The doctor reassured that it at least explained the various changes you had been experiencing, and as grateful as you were to finally understand what was going on, it now meant that your way of life was going to change, again.

Now your life revolved around using a glucose meter to check your blood sugar throughout the day, taking medicine that would help regulate your numbers, cutting back on sweets and various other foods that had tended to make them high. Slowly but surely you were able to gain back some of the weight you had lost, and the trips to the bathroom slowed down. You were living a new life trying to find the perfect balance.

One thing had been made clear by the doctor that day. This was lifelong. It was never going to go away; it was something that could only be managed.

So, you managed. All through high school, and then all through college, you managed to maintain your numbers, discovering that when you felt sluggish and off it usually meant your blood sugar was either really high or really low. Besides that, you normally felt fine and took shots at mealtimes and before bed to help regulate your levels.

That was the second, biggest change in your life. Every pill and medicine that the doctor prescribed to help with your levels had its side effects, and the world must have had a grudge on you because every single one made you ill or have a reaction. Usually insulin was a last resort option, but in your case, it was the only thing that appeared to help.

Downside to taking the shots were the prices, they were the true killer, but like everything in your life, you managed it all. Your parents of course worried, and the day you had moved out was perhaps the most nerve wracking for them. You were going to be on your own for the first time ever, it was a big moment, and as much as you appreciated and loved them, it was time for you leave home.

Having this new lifestyle didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything; your life was perhaps more or less the same as any other adult that you knew who was your age. Went to work five days a week as a dental hygienist, spent the weekends catching up on chores, and binge watching the latest shows on Netflix.

The only thing missing, was a love life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t try. There were multiple first dates and a couple second dates, but rarely was there a third. No matter what you did or how you tried to explain it, they all got uncomfortable when you mentioned that you were diabetic. At first it didn’t seem like it would be an issue. But when you’d get up a few minutes before the meal came and you’d explain that you needed to take a shot, they all clammed up. Like they were suddenly realizing that what you were more trouble than you originally appeared to be. That you actually had a condition that affected your life.

After that they’d stop calling, the texts they’d send were more apologetic and that they were busy. There were never anymore dates after that, and unable to help yourself you’d check their social media, not surprised when there were new pictures with a new girl, usually captioned with some type of heart emoji.

If they were dumping you for something that was out of your control, then you were the lucky one for avoiding what could be a toxic relationship. At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was good that you were waiting for the right person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. How could anyone decide that you weren’t worth the time simply because you needed to take insulin?

You were a human being. Nowhere did it say you didn’t deserve love.

Despite that mindset, you once again found yourself coming home from a date that had no future of a third. Tossing your keys on the bed, you rummaged around your purse for the two cases stashed inside, still dressed in the cute outfit that had taken a majority of the morning to decide on. The cases themselves were adorable, and pretty cheap on Amazon. The first was purple and no bigger than your palm while zipped up. The second one was a light blue wristlet that was slightly longer.

You sighed while setting them on the nightstand, resentment filling your heart. The purple bag contained your pen and glucose meter with the test strips, and the other had your insulin, alcohol wipes, and spare needles. They were the very things that you needed to stay alive. They told you your numbers, it was how you decided on how many units to take with meals, and yet, they appeared to be a part of the reason that you couldn’t seem to hold on to a relationship.

It just fucking…sucked.

No longer caring that you had spent several hours to get the curls just right, you ran a hand through your hair. Mike had made it clear after your explanation for why you needed the light blue case just to go to the bathroom, that there wasn’t going to be a second date.

Which is fine, you thought, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs up to sit criss cross on the bed. He only talked about himself the entire time. And his ex-wife.

Maybe it was because you were telling them early on. Wasn’t there some unwritten rule about not talking about medical things on the first couple dates? Granted, a majority of them wanted to go out to eat for the dates and you couldn’t exactly not take a shot, but it wasn’t like you were doing it right there at the table. You always went to the restroom and used the stall with the changing table to be able to lay everything out.

Glancing at the two cases, you pressed your lips together. This was a major part of your life; it was part of your identity. But maybe…maybe if they didn’t know? What if you hid this from the next guy? It probably wouldn’t do much, if it did, were you really going to hide such an important part of yourself in the name of love?

They always seem to run off when I tell them, you thought. What’s the harm in waiting, and seeing if it’ll last more than a few dates before I tell?

It seemed pretty extreme. But there was only one way to find out.

As you settled back against the pillows, turning on Netflix once again, you couldn’t but hope that this didn’t backfire on you.

“You did what?”

Pressing your lips together, you rested your forehead against the fridge. It was a bad idea to tell you best friend what you had done. You knew that she’d say it was wrong to lie, to hide such an important part of your life from him. She was the voice of logic and reason, which was terrifying at times, but that was Kayla.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge, you glanced over your shoulder. She was staring at you, eyebrow raised as she tapped her nails against the table, waiting to hear your excuse.

“I…I haven’t told him.”

“And you’ve been dating for how long now?”

You stirred the mug until it was caramel in color, starring down at the coffee and partially wishing that you could shrink and run away from her reaction. “Three months.”

“Dude!”

Wincing, you stashed the milk away to carry the two cups of coffee to the table, setting Kayla’s down on the cozy you had out. She thanked you, absentmindedly stirring the spoon out of habit.

It was a Saturday ritual the two of you had since meeting in college. The two of you bonded while waiting in an excessive line for coffee on campus, and despite it being ridiculously long, neither one of you was willing to leave. Coffee was what you considered your life blood, and funny enough, so didn’t Kayla.

That day forward, the two of you always got coffee together before classes, and on Saturdays you bought a box of munchkins with iced coffee before retreating back to the lounge to relax and bitch about anything and everything. She knew about your diabetes, didn’t mind that you could only have a few treats before stopping, and when she hung out in your dorm room, she hadn’t been uncomfortable with seeing you having to take a shot.

After that semester, the two of you became roommates for the reminder of college. Even after graduating and moving out in the real world, getting real jobs, Saturdays were still for coffee and bitchin’.

“Walk me through this decision again?” She asked, reaching over for one of the glazed munchkins.

You lightly tapped the spoon against the rim of the coffee mug, slouching in your seat as you wrapped your fingers around it. The warmth spread through your fingers instantly, soothing a few nerves for the moment. Kayla was your best friend yes, but she also had very strong opinions.

“I was just, sick of finding dead ends,” you answered, staring down at the mud colored coffee. Just the way you liked it. “Every time I had explained that I needed to take a shot to manage my blood sugar, they all froze up. And then they’d tell me after the date ended that it wasn’t going to work, or they’d ghost me without any warning.”

It sucked. It really did, but for once you just wanted to be with someone and be happy. There had already been too many times that you’d gotten your hopes up over a guy only for it to end, without even an explanation no less.

Kayla covered your hand with hers, gently squeezing when you looked up at her. Her red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her freckles scattered across her face and body. She refused to cover them up with makeup, and even then, you wouldn’t dare let her do so either. As much as you treasured her, you had witnessed first-hand her attempting to do makeup so badly that it nearly sent you to cardiac arrest.

“Hey,” she softly said. “Those guys were dick bags, there’s no need to beat yourself over them.”

Chuckling, you raised the mug to your lips, glancing in the living room. The apartment wasn’t the largest or the fanciest, but you were able to leave a piece of yourself in each room. Sunlight streamed through the bay window and through the dream-catcher you had hanging on the lock. Bailey, Kayla’s little teacup terrier, was taking advantage of said light and was napping on the couch.

“I’m guessing I should have sent them all to you?”

“Of course,” Kayla agreed, leaning back in the chair. “I would have kicked their asses and told them what type of scum they are.”

You reached over for your own munchkin, placing it on the saucer to break it in half. “Sorry, but I think you’ve missed your chance.”

“Dammit.”

Amused, you popped a piece into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate. Life had certainly taken the two of you in directions that neither of you expected, but you treasured these Saturdays. It was like nothing had changed and you were back in college, talking about the classmates that annoyed the crap out of you, pointing out the cute ones, and procrastinating on the assignments that needed to be done.

“So, are you going to tell me about him?” Kayla asked. “Last thing you said was that your neighbor was setting you up. Does he deserve the best friend approval?”

At the thought of Jimin, you were grinning into your coffee, coyly trying to avoid eye contact with her as she squealed. Her reaction was so strong that it woke Bailey up, causing her to bark a few times. Which was more adorable than it was intimidating like the dog probably thought.

  Flipping your phone screen side up, you went to go find a picture of him for her. “He’s very, very sweet,” you said, handing the device over for her to scroll through. “And kind. He works at the animal shelter in town, loves to take Polaroid pictures, and he indulges in my coffee addiction.”

“I love him already.”

You grinned at that, taking a drink as she cooed and laughed at the various photos, and you began to tell her the story about how you met him.

As much as you hate to admit it, you had been apprehensive about your downstairs neighbor set you up with his friend for a blind date. It wasn’t that you were complete strangers with Taehyung - the guy was pretty chill and kept things interesting with constantly dying his hair - it had been more along the lines that you didn’t know much about him besides the conversations the you shared before going your separate ways.

According to your neighbor, your dating life – or non-existent one – hadn’t gone amiss on him either, and conveniently had a friend who was also in the single pool for quite some time, so he thought it would be nice to help you out. Actually no, he flat out told you he was setting the two of you up for a date. With only a moment’s hesitation were you able to say no dinner dates before he disappeared inside, tossing a thumb’s up over his shoulder for you and shut the door.

The next morning when you left for work, there was a sticky note on your door telling you to be at the 10th annual Flower Shower festival that Saturday for one. Jimin would be waiting at Paws for Days, the animal shelter.

The Flower Shower festival the town’s way of sharing their love of flowers and nature with everyone. Every shop that decided to participate in the event was assigned a different type of flower, and with that, they decorated their stores with it. They were then automatically entered into a contest to see who was the most creative with their assigned floral. First place was given a trophy stating that they were the winners of that year’s festival, and second and third were given ribbons and a plant of their choice.

What made it such a hit, was perhaps was the event that gave it its namesake. During the day, not only were there flowers decorated on the storefronts, but each company was able to hand out coupons for their flower that could be turned in at one of the many floral shops in the area. There were stalls for making and selling flower crowns, jewelry, perfumes, anything and everything imaginable that could incorporate flowers into a product filled the streets to be sold. Even food vendors went all out with all the stops.

Filling in any empty spaces were local artists, using any and all varieties of flowers to create sculptures, sometimes of small animals that a person could hold in their hands, to ones so large that it required ladders and multiple hands to help. Face and body painters had kids and adults of all ages waiting in line, eagerly handing over the few bucks to be decorated with flowers and various other decorative forms of flower power.

It was like the hippie movement met modern times for a day.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all the events, was the parade that happened at the end of the day. The festival couldn’t last all night since it would be hard to see the flowers, so the ending parade occurred at six. All the contest participants and winners walked along with the vendors and painters, each carrying baskets with flower petals or single flowers to throw out to the crowd, and while they held the attention of everyone, up on the rooftops of all the buildings were volunteers who waited for their to cue to toss buckets of petals on to the crowd below. It was as if the entire world was hitting pause on the bitterness of life, to enjoy a moment of beauty to take a shower, made out of flowers.

You never knew what it was about flowers that had the entire town obsessed with them, there were at least six shops dedicated to flowers and bouquets – one at least in particular focused mainly on gardening tools, sculptures, and fountains – within the downtown area.

Which made having your first date with Jimin at the Flower Shower festival all the more pleasing. It was more exciting and had plenty of things to do than going to another restaurant, but at the same time, a bit nerve wracking. Not only was it another first date, with a guy that you’ve never met in your life, hoping that your neighbor hadn’t set you up with some weirdo. This was the first date you were going on with the decision to not tell him about being diabetic.

Even though you weren’t going to bring it up, you still packed the cases into your purse, not wanting to risk needing it and not having them on you. After dressing in shorts and a loose flowery blouse with sandals, even doing your makeup lightly to match with the summer theme, you were ready to go out. Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, but your hand had been shaking to the point that you had to set down the mascara brush or stab yourself in the eye with it.

This was your first chance at seeing if it really made such an impact on your love life, making it felt like you were stepping into the dating scene all over again. That was what made it terrifying. This simple date would tell you whether or not you weren’t able to hold a relationship because of your lifestyle, or if it was because of you.

If it was because of the needles, then that you could understand. Not everyone was fond of them, and dealing with having to give yourself shots four times a day can be annoying at times, but if it was because of you in general…well, that was the ultimate sucker punch to the gut.

Before you could let yourself get lost in the sink hole of self-doubt, you forced yourself to leave, locking the door without even thinking to double check that you had everything that you needed. Luckily, you did.

It was to your advantage that you lived downtown. Walking to the shops only took five, maybe ten minutes if you were feeling lazy and with the location of Paws for Days in mind, you headed down the street in its direction.

The sun was high in the sky, occasionally blinding you when you passed by the tall buildings and gaps in the trees, but you felt the heat of the sun on your arms, and saw the clear bright blue sky overhead. It all helped to take your mind off what Jimin was like. Hell, you didn’t even know what he looked like. All that Taehyung wrote was that he would be outside by the shelter’s sign.

Nearing the heart of town, you weren’t all that surprised to see that nearly everyone in town was walking the streets, making it almost impossible to tell them apart from the people who were working.

Paws for Days was a street down from being smack in the center of town, and resembled a large farmhouse with floor to ceiling windows on the front entrance, allowing everyone to look in and see the cats and occasional dog walking around the front of the store. They took in animals of every breed, and were also a no-kill shelter. During the warm months it was common to hear dogs barking in the larger fenced in area behind the building as the animals played and ran about, enjoying the time out in the sun.

As you neared the shelter, it was the sound of barking and kids laughing that made you smile. In their front lawn, staff had set up play pen areas for the smaller dogs to sit out on the grass and roll around. Parents with babies carefully held them as they leaned down, allowing their child to gently pet animals and laughing as their palms get licked. There were other areas for the larger dogs, but a large banner that was attached to the shelter’s roof stole your attention.

Paws for Days 10th Annual Adoption Day!

You hadn’t realized that in addition to it being the tenth anniversary of the Flower Shower festival, it was also an anniversary for the shelter as well. Staff was walking around with blue shirts with the name of the shelter written in black, a little black paw print serving as the period. Flower crowns made out of orange cream roses sat on everyone’s head, and as you looked around, a group of people around your age appeared to be constructing a giant sculpture of a…well, it had paws and the lower half of an animal body.

Maybe later you’d come back and see what it turned out to be.

Continuing towards the shelter, you tried to look for the sign, but with a swarm of people walking in your way so they could either play with the animals or actually go inside to adopt, it took a little longer to reach your destination.

  When you finally broke through and stepped away to the side to catch a breather, you were able to see the shelter’s wooden sign. To no one’s surprise, there was a stone statue of a cat and dog sitting next to each other, with a bird on top of the dog’s head. It was adorable.

The man standing next to the sign however, was godly looking.

“No, fucking way,” you said, taking advantage of the fact that he was looking at his phone to stare at him.

The fact that his hair was dyed wasn’t shocking – you had partially expected that considering Taehyung was always dying his – but the mix of pink and orange hues suited Jimin so perfectly that it appeared natural on him. The sunlight glinted off of the silver chained earring he wore along with the silver rings on his fingers, all while standing out in a black t-shirt and jeans despite it being warm out. To top it all off, an orange cream rose flower crown that matched his hair color perfectly, was carefully placed on his head to resemble a halo, and he held on to a spare in his free hand.

Taehyung had completely, and utterly, forgotten to mention that his single friend, was insanely hot.

Maybe…maybe that’s not him, you thought, carefully wetting your lips as you walked over to him. Maybe this is some other guy, standing right where Taehyung had said, and was waiting for someone else.

He slipped his phone into his pocket before you were able to reach him and looked up, meeting to meet your gaze. The wire framed sunglasses he wore were tinted with pink lenses.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft and gentle, putting your nerves at ease as he smiled widely when you got closer. “You’re Taehyung’s neighbor, right?”

You shyly smiled, nodding as you supplied your name, which only helped to make the corner of Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he repeated your name. To you, your name was just that, a name. Nothing more and nothing less. But hearing he say it, it was like a pretty melody slipping out of his mouth.

Jimin held up the spare flower crown, pressing his lips together as he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you one. Is it okay if I…?”

“Of course,” you answered. It was sweet that he had gotten one for you, and as he stepped closer to put it on your head, you felt your cheeks warming up at how close he was. You were even able to catch a whiff of his cologne, just the faintest scent that wasn’t overwhelming like how some people tended to bathe in perfume.

“They’re roses,” Jimin explained, adjusting the crown so it sat on your head like his. “Orange roses. I had to ask for them specifically in case any of the animals tried eating them. Roses at least, are not as poisonous as a lot of other flowers.”

“They’re still toxic to them though, right?”

Jimin leaned back, quirking an eyebrow as his smile softened to grin. “Well, I don’t recommend eating them, for either animals or humans. They’ll probably make you sick...”

“He’s a smartass just like us,” Kayla interrupted, grinning as she handed you back your phone.

Laughing, you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he can be. But he’s just, one of the sweetest guys I’ve met.” Double tapping your phone, the lock screen revealed itself to be a picture of Jimin. You had taken it one day when you went and visited him at the shelter. He had been holding one of the calico cats, even rubbing his nose against hers, and your heart melted at the sight. Now your heart melted every time you turned on your phone.

“And he really has no idea?”

The room fell silent then. Which wasn’t surprising considering that the two of you were introverts at heart, but together, you were loud and proud. Add in coffee and the entire world better watch out.

“Jimin’s seen me check my blood,” you slowly answered. The phone screen went black when you didn’t swipe it. “He saw the meter one day, so I explained that with my family history, that I have it as a way to monitor my blood.”

Usually, you had been so good about hiding your meter and needles when Jimin came around to your home. For some reason on that day, it had slipped your mind and the next thing you knew, Jimin was holding it up and asking about it.

You weren’t outright lying. The family history wasn’t that decent, and you did have to check your blood, so it was more of a partial truth. Maybe it was because he had seemed curious and interested in the item, but ever since that day, guilt had been gnawing away at your heart. You were still avoiding the truth, and if you wanted this relationship to work out, the only way it could would be if you told him.

Looking away from the coffee, you pressed your lips together upon seeing the way Kayla was gazing at you, her eyes softening as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. There were no words needed however. You knew that it wasn’t going to end well if you remained silent, but the lingering fear was still there.

What if it was too much for Jimin? What if after you told him, he decided that it wasn’t worth it? That you, weren’t worth it?

It was all just…terrifying.

“You know,” Kayla gently said, reaching out and reassuringly squeezed your hand. “If for some reason, it doesn’t work out…Bailey and I got a spare room for you to have.”

She had offered you the spare room more times than you could remember, especially after graduation, but you loved the town you grew up in. It was home and had everything you always wanted. But you squeezed her hand back tightly, looking up at her with a smile.

“I thought that was Bailey’s room?”

“Oh, it is. She’s fucking spoiled rotten. You’re the only human being I’d sacrifice my queen-sized bed for a bunk bed.”

Laughing, you shook your head as Kayla joined in. Even Bailey tried barking at the sudden noise.

You had to tell Jimin the truth. There was no if, ands, or buts about it. For right now, you were willing to pretend for a little bit longer, wanting to savor in his love before it all came crashing down.

You leaned over Jimin, stretching your hand out for the wine glass on the coffee table, his palm sliding down your back to your hip as you moved about. When you settled back against his side, the wine glass in hand, his chest shook as he chuckled when you tried to take a sip only to realize that you would have to sit up to get a decent drink.

“Oh shush,” you murmured, lightly swiping at his shoulder.

It only made Jimin giggle even more though, and a glance at his own wine glass that was sitting on the wooden floor by the couch revealed it to be empty. You were still on your first, knowing full well that there was a chance that a glass of your beloved Witching Hour Red Blend wine might spike your blood sugar, but Jimin had finished his first one within a half hour after arriving for dinner.

Not that you were going to judge. It was Friday night, neither of you had work tomorrow, and it was so damn good. There was no harm in letting loose and indulging in the fun adult drinks.

His keys were on the coffee table next to the black wine bottle along with his phone, and you must have eyed them for longer than you thought because next thing you knew, his hand was trailing up your back as he pushed himself up, capturing your attention.

“Sleepover?” Jimin said, locks of his pink hair falling into his gaze.

Smiling, you hummed in agreement, partially relieved that he wouldn’t go out driving, and partially thriving at the idea of waking up next to him tomorrow morning.

“Good, that means I can do this then…”

You frowned at first, suddenly gasping as the glass clinked against the rings on his fingers when he took your glass and raised it to his lips, successfully drinking about half of it in one gulp.

“You have your own glass,” you whined, pouting at the small amount he had left for you.

Jimin only grinned, setting the glass down on the table before pulling you close until he was able to claim you for a kiss. His lips tasted rich like cherries, and whether it was the wine talking or not, but he felt more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever had.

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip before slipping in, his arms wrapping around your waist as the kiss grew in intensity, your hands unashamedly going under his t-shirt to roam up his body. Before you were able to crawl on top of him, he broke the kiss.

“No offense,” Jimin said, kissing your forehead to make up for suddenly stopping. “But your couch sucks to have sex on.”

That put a halt to where you mind had been going, recalling the one time the two of you ended up fucking on the couch. It had been rushed and both of you were too horny to even think about going to the bedroom.

“Yeah,” you agreed, giggling as you stood, taking the bottle and slipping your own glass between your fingers. With a coy smile, you walked backwards to your bedroom. “Good thing I have a fucking awesome bed though.”

His laughter filled the room as he swiped up his own glass, hurrying after you, and not just because you were holding the rest of wine hostage with the promise of sex, but because you were the one sweetly carrying his heart.

Blinking your eyes open, you frowned as you stared up at the ceiling, cold sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, the sheets wet underneath your back. You glanced to your side, the bright red numbers of the clock reading 3:00 A.M in the dark room, and on your right, Jimin’s soft snores reassured you that he was still asleep.

So why were you wide awake?

With careful movements, you moved so you were sitting on the edge of the bed, ignoring how the air hit your wet back. It was as if someone had turned up the heat despite it being summer. Everything was pointing towards a bad dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you woke up from a nightmare, unable to recall it but be drenched in sweat. It was with that mindset that you leaned down to pick up Jimin’s shirt, slipping it on to go to the bathroom, but the moment you stood on your own feet, the world slanted.

You barely caught yourself against the wall as you stumbled forward, feeling lost in a haze as you kept walking until you felt the sharp coldness of wooden floors on the bottom of your feet. The faint glow of the orange nightlight in a socket was blurry, acting as a guide as you stumbled around, trying to reach the kitchen table.

The meter. You needed your meter.

Head heavy, your heart raced in your chest when you suddenly felt the floor underneath you. A sharp pain slicing through your hip and a harsh whack had your leg aching, but it cleared away the haze, allowing you to think as you leaned against what you felt to be the couch.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness but you didn’t dare risk standing, but you couldn’t just sit there. There was nothing within your reach for you to grab and make noise. The last time something like this had happened was back in high school, and that had been when you ended up in the hospital. Whimpering, your body felt heavy as you tried to move, the soft pap sound of footsteps echoing in the short hallway barely catching your attention.

“Baby? I heard a thud, you okay?”

The light suddenly came on, burning your eyes as you tried to move, but like when you had first stood up, your head felt twenty pounds heavier, forcing you to lean back against the couch.

“What the fuck? Baby?!”

Jimin’s feet slammed against the floor as he hurried to sit in front of you, eyes wide awake as he cupped your cheek and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you to rest against his chest. His fingers were blissfully cold compared to your heated skin, and for several moments, all you could focus on was his touch, unable to hear him call out your name several times.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shakily inhaled as you tried to focus and ignore the way the world seemed to suddenly tilt again. “My meter,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I need to check my blood. Something…something’s wrong.”

Vaguely you pointed towards the kitchen table, but luckily, Jimin had seen you place the meter there on multiple occasions. After leaning you against the couch again, he hurried to the table, pushing random notebooks and mail out of the way to find the purple bag. With a tug at the zipper, it revealed the meter and pen you needed.

“Hey baby, stay awake, please.” Jimin said, gently touching the side of your face, still holding on to the bag and its contents. Despite having watched you use them; he didn’t understand how to work the machine.

Maneuvering his way behind you once again, his legs were on either side of you as he pulled you to his chest. The shirt you wore was damp and he tried to move your hair off your neck and forehead.

It took a few moments, hands fumbling as you put a test strip into the meter and using the pen to prick your finger, the blood pooling up without even having to squeeze the area. The screen beeped as it calculated the glucose level, beeping again with a final result.

“It says fifty,” Jimin read aloud. “Is that…is that not good?”

“No,” you said, eyes wide as you stared at the meter, knowing that it would get worse if it got any lower. “It’s too low, I need…sugar. Orange juice, ice cream, something.”

Lifting your hand up to the arm of the chair, you tried to pull yourself up to get something, but Jimin’s heart raced at the prospect of you trying to walk around in this state, so he held you tighter to keep you on the ground and stood up himself.

“I’ll get it,” he said. He didn’t even give you a chance to argue. Instead he hurried to get the food you had mentioned, already figuring that you needed stuff that either had natural sugars, or were found in the junk food.

His arms were full with food and dishes when he came back, not knowing what exactly you wanted or would be best for this situation. Even though he wanted to help out, wanted to make this easier and go away, he had no idea what to do. Never in his life had he come across a situation that was like this. All he knew was that from the way you were moving so slow and how there was little to no color to your skin, this wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell Jimin. Out of every scenario that you’ve mulled over, this wasn’t even in the top twenty. To find you in a state like this so soon in the relationship must be a scene out of a nightmare for him.

Seeing the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream he had gotten out, you reached over and grabbed it along with the spoon. The treat was rarely touched since it was stashed away for special occasions that you treated yourself to, but this time you took a spoonful of the Half Baked delight, wishing that this was a chance where you could relax and enjoy it.

While you were eating that spoonful, Jimin quietly removed himself from you. He didn’t speak as he went into the bathroom, the water running loudly in the otherwise silent house before it was turned off just as quickly, and returned to his place behind you. It was without a word that he gently gathered your hair, bringing it into the messy bun that you always threw it up in when the two of you decided on having a lazy day. The task at hand was almost all but forgotten when the cold cloth was set on the back of your neck.

The gesture itself had your eyes stinging, the reality of everything suddenly crashing around you and how this could have gone if Jimin wasn’t here. The shirt was originally Jimin’s and while his clothes usually hung on you, had been clinging to your skin and making it impossible for you to forget about. It hadn’t been the biggest concern you had at the moment, which forced you to put it to the back of your mind for the time being.

A stray whimper escaped your lips, capturing Jimin’s attention as you set the ice cream container down to cover your face with your hands, silencing the cries and trying to hide from him. He wasn’t running away or staring at you like something was wrong, nor was he accusing you of lying and deceiving him. Instead, he simply rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck and cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby,” Jimin murmured, tilting his head to add a kiss to your shaking shoulders. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, let’s get your blood sugar where it needs to be.”

As reassuring as that was, it only made you cry harder, the tears slipping through your fingers and dripping on to your thighs. He was right. You needed to focus on your blood sugar, but his soft whispers and the way his hands gently rubbed and squeezed your legs meant so much more.

For the first time in so long, a guy wasn’t disgusted by you. Instead he was here, doing the things that he could to help, and he was loving you.

When you finally felt like you could keep going, you sniffed and lifted your head, the lightest of touches caressing your cheek had your heart thumping. Again, you checked your blood. It went up ten points, but you sighed, and scooped out another spoonful of the ice cream in an attempt to raise it. It would probably be sky high by the time morning arrived, but it wasn’t going up fast enough at the moment.

Over the course of an hour, you sat on the floor in-between Jimin’s legs, checking your blood every ten minutes to see if it had gone up, and alternating between spoonsful of ice cream, cups of orange juice and peanut butter crackers, a combination that had your nose scrunching up every time.

Jimin stayed the entire time, only getting up to put away some of the food that you weren’t eating. Even after that he retook his spot and held you just tight enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting you go.

By the time it finally reached one hundred, you pushed the container of ice cream away from you and leaned back into Jimin’s embrace. It was still low. No longer did you feel out of control of your body, the sweat had dried to your skin and if you were to stand, you were certain that there wouldn’t be any more stumbling on your part. Although you doubted that Jimin would let you out of his sight for the next few days.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Wide awake in the dead of night, apparently not seeing any other option, Jimin reached out for the ice cream and took a spoonful for himself. The gesture itself was so simple, so ordinary, as if the two of you always woke up at the hour dedicated to artists who found solace under the stars and moon, to share a pint of ice cream on the living room floor, that you giggled.

Raising an eyebrow, the corner of Jimin’s mouth curled upwards at the sound of your laugh. He hadn’t realized that this scare would make him miss such a pretty sound so much. Licking the rest of the spoon clean as he maintained eye contact with you, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make you laugh once more.

As much as you would rather spend the rest of the time making each other laugh and eating to your heart’s desire, you knew that he was owed an explanation to everything that’s happened.

“I was diagnosed in high school,” you said. Your gaze fell from his face to the floor, only then noticing that Jimin didn’t have any pants on. He had come rushing out in only his boxers and stayed in them this entire time. “I’m a type two diabetic, which means that my body produces the insulin that it needs, but for some reason my body doesn’t process it and rejects it.”

Jimin patiently listened to your explanation. As you spoke, the invisible weight that had settled on your shoulders when you decided to hide this part of your life was being chipped away at, piece by piece until it felt like you were free. The nerves didn’t fly away, instead they settled nicely in your stomach for the time being, not making themselves known until you closed your mouth, waiting for his reaction.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand to run it through his hair. “Does this happen a lot? Your levels dropping like this?”

“No. This…” you set a hand on his thigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know what happened. I took my shot before dinner, and then I took my night one.”

“Baby, I never saw you take any shot.”

Pressing your lips together, you closed your eyes, the butterflies having found the perfect moment to take flight right then and there. This was it, the moment you had been dreading this entire time. “I… I had my bag with my insulin pens and needles hiding in the bathroom.” You admitted.

His eyes scanned over you, making a mental note that you wouldn’t look at him and how your kept on rubbing your arm. Suddenly it made sense why you were always sneaking off to the restroom anytime the two of you went out to eat, and how you’d tap your nails and watch for the waiter when it took longer than you expected for the food to come out. “How long have you been hiding this?”

“Since we started dating.”

Jimin’s arms tightened around your waist, the reassuring weight of his head on your shoulder was now gone, and in that split second, your heart stopped. He was moving away, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be with you anymore, he—

Suddenly you were no longer staring at the floor in front of you, but Jimin’s bare chest until his fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look him straight on. His dark brown eyes that usually disappeared when he was smiling and laughing, appeared to be drowning in the tears that slid down his cheeks.

“Why…why wouldn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice light and cracking with every word while his bottom lip trembled. “What if I wasn’t here? You…you could have been on the floor until morning. And if this is how you get when it’s this low, it would have been worse if you waited to get help, or until someone found you.”

His hands were roaming around your back as he spoke, unable to settle down, like he had to constantly reassure himself that you were conscious and talking to him. It was only when he shook his head, a soft coo leaving his lips as he cupped your cheeks to run his fingers underneath your eyes, that you realized that you were crying too.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you had hid this from him. All he could think about was you being alone when this happened. It tore at him the possibility of you ending up in the hospital, or worse, you laying on the ground until you either made your way to a phone, or someone stumbling upon you on accident.

It plagued his heart, making it ache as he tilted his head to gently kiss your forehead. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

It was such a simple reason for why you didn’t, but one that was without a doubt, rooted in your own selfish desire to protect yourself. Most importantly, to protect your heart from having to deal with constantly being let down by the men you let into your life. The idea had sprung out of fear and doubt, but every day that you spent with Jimin was enough to set those thoughts aside.

All the silly dates. The terrifying night where he let you help him dye his hair, the way his fingers traced your body with paths he long since memorized, and an afternoon where the two of you stayed inside while rain pattered against the windows when he suddenly said I love you, were enough to make you realize that Jimin wasn’t going run away.

Your eyes stung and tears slipped faster down your cheeks as you moved to press your forehead against his chest, his arms hugging your tightly. There was nothing for you to grip on to except his body, but you held on to him anyway.

Sensing that this ran deeper than you were ready to admit, Jimin gently kissed your cheek, resting his head against yours as he held you, softly stroking your back. His own back was sore from being hunched over for the last hour or so, and sitting on the floor was starting to leave an ache in his ass, but he was going to stay right there. As long as you needed him, he was going to be there, wherever and whenever you wanted him.

“It’s okay baby,” he said once your tears slowed down in volume. “We’re in this together, I promise.”

Those words had you wanting to cry all over again. For the first time in so long, someone wanted to stay with you, to help you, to love you for you, and that included the fact that you needed to constantly check your blood sugar and take insulin with your meals, and an additional one before bed. It was terrifying, a first, but so freeing at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shakily kissing his chest in an attempt to fix some of the damage your secret has done. “I’m so sorry Jimin.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he kissed your cheek again, his arms tightening just the slightest. Condensation from the ice cream was pooling on the floor and the mini candy bars that he had found were scattered about. Your meter was right beside him. Outside, the birds that had made their homes in the trees near your apartment were singing their sweet lungs out, a noise that usually made both of you want to bury your faces in the pillows. This time, it had Jimin looking towards the bay window and the sheer yellow curtains.

It was still dark out, but within an hour, the night sky would give birth to morning.

Glancing down, he saw that your legs were already wrapped around his waist. With no other reason not to, Jimin carefully stood up, using one arm to pull himself up by the couch and the other keeping a hold on you. He ignored the yelps and questions that left your mouth.

Instead, he settled down on the bay window and stretched his legs out in front of him, only loosening his grip on you when he was certain you wouldn’t slip and fall on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You said, cautiously letting go of Jimin to straighten up. It wasn’t the first time that he ever picked you up without warning, in fact, his habit of doing so was close to becoming normal. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t like a warning in advance occasionally.

He leaned backwards against the window pane, drawing his right leg up until he was able to prop his arm on his knee as he smiled at you. “Have you ever seen the sun rise?”

The question was so random, so opposite of everything that had been happening for the last hour and yet, your mind honed in on it and took advantage of the its simplicity. Shaking your head, Jimin’s smile grew as he tapped his thigh. His own way to gesture for you to turn and rest against his chest that you had learned early on in the relationship.

“The ice cream’s going to melt.”

You turned around however, once again leaning backwards against Jimin’s chest as his free arm encircled your body, pulling you firming in place.

“We’ll take care of that later. We’ll take care of everything later, I promise. Right now, I just want to watch the sun rise, with you.”

“You’re not mad at me?” You suddenly asked, staring at the early morning sky.

The other apartments and houses in the neighborhood were nothing more but shadows for the time being, and you weren’t entirely sure if the living room was facing the east or not. You didn’t tell him that though.

“No baby,” Jimin softly said, staring at the sky as well. “I’m a bit disappointed, and honestly, I’m still a little scared about what happened. But I’m not mad at you.”

Feeling his chest lift with a deep breath, you relaxed in his embrace. This wasn’t the end of the conversation. He deserved a real explanation for why you never told him, and he would get it this time.

As you shifted slightly, Jimin adjusted his arm with your movements, a soft chuckle escaping when you played with some of the silver rings that he had forgotten to take off before going to sleep.

“I love you.”

Your fingers paused, watching his fingers move and lace themselves with yours, calming your heart so it was no longer racing. Any butterflies that had been hanging around in-case there was a to be a second round of sudden doubt finally settled down, allowing you to enjoy this moment with Jimin. Instead of fear, a blanket of content draped itself on top of you.

“I love you too,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss.

Somewhere out there, a bird was returning the melody of another song under the moonlight, and running on only a few hours of sleep wasn’t ideal. While it wasn’t the night that you planned or expected to have, as you waited for the sun to rise, Jimin occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles, there wasn’t anywhere else you wanted to be.

It wasn’t planned, nor was the leading up to it ideal, but it was pretty damn perfect.

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