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borathae · 2 days

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Galaxies | Witch!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

"You and he create galaxies when you are together."

Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: Domish switch!Yoongi, subby switch!Reader, they're actual soulmates, their connection is so deep i'm in pain, love making, having to stay quiet, some flirty bickering because it's them, a short sexy fight about Dominance, oral (both receiving), handjob, pussy fingering, eye contact & hand holding, lots of kissing, he eats her pussy in multiple ways, and worships her breasts, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, slight strength kink but make it magical, cowgirl position morphing into lotus position, dirty talk but make it romantic with a pinch of sexy, something magical happens between them, cuddles & snuggles & giggles for aftercare, they're so in love i'm gonna cry

Wordcount: 8k

a/n: i always thought that i couldn't get any more obsessed with them and then i introduced witch!yoongi x witch!reader and i actually became INSANE for them like i'm in pain they're meant for each other 😭💜

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Yoongi is under the covers, reading, when you enter the room. He looks at you and looks away instantly, doing a terrible job at hiding the widening of his eyes. A flush of his cheeks follows.

“Are you being shy because I’m in my towel?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“I’m not shy”, he defends himself, staring into his book obsessively.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you say and drop the towel to change into your pyjamas instead.

Yoongi doesn’t look at you directly even once, but tries to sneak one hidden glance from the corner of his eyes.

“I saw that”, you tease him for it.

“I didn’t do anything. Whatever, good night”, he babbles and slams the book closed, proceeding to lie down on his side with his back facing you.

He makes you laugh. He is so effortlessly funny.

“Gosh, you silly you. What’s the matter?” you coo, bending down to hug him.

He has his eyes closed and lips pulled into a thin line, almost as if he is trying really hard not to look.

You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“I love your silly bum” you say, giving his butt a soft slap as you straighten back up.

Yoongi grumbles something unintelligible.

You bring the towel into the bathroom to dry and get two glasses of water from downstairs. Your grandparents have gone to sleep already, Taehyung and Jungkook seem to have come home as well, judging by the painting equipment on the dining table. They are nowhere to be found, however their jackets are missing. They must be outside. You could look for them, but quite frankly and with no ill intent, you don’t want to. You want to go back to Yoongi and tease him some more.

The man of your hour is back to reading.

“I’ve got water”, you announce yourself, placing the glasses on the bedside table.

“Mmh.”

You climb onto Yoongi’s lap, staying there for a little until he finally looks at you over the edge of his book. He cocks his right brow up in question.

“Boop”, you say, poking the tip of his nose with your finger.

He blinks rapidly, moving his head back like a cat surprised about being touched. He even ogles your finger, going a little cross eyed for it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most boopable nose ever?”

“What?”

“Boop”, you do it again, forcing Yoongi to show off his double chin from how aggressively he tries to ogle your finger.

“What are you doing?” his voice is distorted from the position.

“Has no one booped your nose before?”

“What? No?”

“Boop.”

“What is that? Why are you doing this?” he sounds so adorably stressed about the unfamiliar affection.

You have to laugh, cradling his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss on the nose.

“You’re so fucking adorable, gosh you”, you say, biting his nose softly before giving it a second kiss.

You sit back, sliding your hands to his chest. His pulse is a little raised. Cute.

“It’s affection. It’s nice. When you boop someone it means that they’re being playful with you and that they think a part of you is especially cute”, you explain and poke his nose, “boop.”

“Okay?” he tilts his head to the side, lifting his right hand to poke your nose, “boop?”

“Yes, exactly, but you have to raise your pitch as you do it. Like this. Boop.”

“Boop”, he barely raises his pitch.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. His eyes soften, he lets out a breathy chuckle, poking your nose again.

“Boop”, his voice was perfectly pitched.

“This was perfect”, you exclaim, wiggling on his lap because he makes you so giddy.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says in a chuckle, looking back into his book with a slight shake of his head. He is smiling to himself.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, rolling off of him to drop into the pillow. You stretch your arms from yourself, tracing his outer thigh like this.

You have luminescent stars on your ceiling. When you were little, you always counted them until you fell asleep. You find yourself doing it again, except that you can’t seem to get sleepy enough. You are a little droopy, but definitely not sleepy. Yoongi finished a chapter in the time you counted the glowing stars, now finding himself in the middle of the next chapter when you roll to your side beside him.

You are under the covers, having them pulled up all the way to your ears.

Yoongi notices your eyes on him and looks down. You are gazing at him as if he was the brightest star in this room, giving him a cute toothless smile the moment your eyes meet.

“Should I turn off the lights?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“I counted the stars a hundred times”, you tell him.

“You did?”

“Yeah”, your smile grows, the sparkle in your eyes does as well.

Yoongi feels his pulse speed up just a little.

“I like looking at you”, you say, showing him your teeth in a grin.

Yoongi is melting. You are so adorable.

He brushes the back of his hand down your cheek. You accept the affection with closed eyes.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly, looking back into his book.

He tries to pull his hand back, but you stop him with a small “no”.

He studies you curiously. You are turning your back to him, wiggling it out of the blanket.

“Can I have scratches?”

Yoongi begins to scratch your back wordlessly, holding the book with his other hand and using his thumb to flip the page. He’s got the hand size for it.

You like this so much. Back scratches are the best thing ever. They are so tingly and relaxing. Yoongi never stays at one place for too long, touching whatever inch he could reach and alternating between different patterns. He also switches between using his fingertips and using his nails, adding such amazing sensations to the innocent affection.

You are significantly sleepier when Yoongi’s arm grows tired and he has to take a short break by scratching your scalp instead. You showed him how he could do it best in order not to tug on your hair or damage it and he is doing it exactly like that, using a little bit of pressure because you like it.

You visibly melt into the touch, inching closer to him until your butt touches his leg. You let out a little sound of comfort, nodding your head.

Yoongi looks at you, lowering the book for a moment. Something inside him shifts into the right place, granting him access to his sweetest realization.

He is actually taken.

He has someone who sees him worthy to date.

He makes someone feel safe in his presence, safe enough that she loves him.

He can be gentle and soft and tender. He can make someone feel good.

He isn’t alone anymore, holy fuck, he is actually taken.

This is his reality.

Yoongi places the book aside to spoon you instead, putting his arms around you so he can pull you against his chest. He buries his nose in your neck, giving you a soft squeeze.

You giggle, snuggling into him instantly.

“My princess”, he whispers.

“Your heart is racing so much.”

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“Mhm my princess”, he lets out in a breath, following it up with a kiss to your cheek.

“Tickles”, you snicker.

He chuckles with you, wrestling you gently until you are on your back and he can kiss every inch of your face. You accept it with a racing heart and butterflies in your stomach. The day must have been really, really amazing for Yoongi because you have never witnessed him so affectionate before. Quite frankly, it drives you mad in the fluffiest of ways.

Yoongi ends his love attack with a big smooch to your lips.

“Mwuah”, he lets out, scrunching his nose, “that was affection too.”

“I might actually pass out. You’re so cute, oh god.”

Yoongi takes your hands and pins them above your head, holding them softly.

“You’re cuter”, he says and rests his head on your chest. You try to hug him, but his hands keep a tight grip around yours.

So you stay pinned down and under him, while Yoongi nuzzles your chest, breathing deeply as he does.

“Your heart’s racing.”

“Because you are so affectionate. I’m not used to it.”

He lifts his head, looking at you.

“I can be affectionate.”

“Yeah, you can. Just not so cutely.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head, “it’s the best thing ever. I like it so much.”

“Mhm”, he lowers his eyes, letting them run over you mindlessly.

Somehow in the nice silence of it all, he managed to throw one leg over yours, now resting it between your thighs. Like this, you are so close, separated by nothing but your thin sleeping clothes.

Yoongi meets your eyes again.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too, my love.”

He cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like it a lot that you always ask me, you know?”

“Yeah well, it means a great deal to me to know you want it. I’m not Hades”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, not that again. Yeah, you definitely aren’t him”, you say and ruffle his hair, “come and kiss me, you softie.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, falling into the kiss with closed eyes and a happy purr.

He wants to savour every second of the kiss, just as you want to do the same. And because you and he want to cherish the kiss with such care, it happens that it lasts oh so very long. The touches are adoring and full of love. Your limbs never truly break apart, tangling closer together as the moments become longer.

Distance is only truly present when you have to breathe and even during those moments, you stay oh so very close.

You spend a lot of time on your back, but Yoongi spends just as much time on his back. Truly, the bed might be small, but you roll around in it nonetheless as time passes in the sweetest way.

The night is a lot darker when Yoongi begins breaking the kiss more and more often. You shift your legs to get more comfortable, brushing against his middle this way. The reason for his sudden need for so many breaks reveals itself to your skin hard and a little wet.

“Ah-hm”, he lets out, following it up with a huff of air and a messy kiss to your neck.

Tingles run through you. You move your leg again.

Yoongi reaches down and stops it gently.

“Stay still, please.”

“Boongie, did you get hard?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…so nice.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi”, you gasp, embarrassing him so much that he breaks away and flops to his other side.

“I’m sorry”, he says into his hands, which he has thrown over his face.

With a fond chuckle, you spoon him, trying to drag his hands away from his face.

“Why are you apologising?”

“I, I’m not sexualising you. I swear, I’m not.”

“Gosh, you silly boy”, you say, rolling him to his back. You straddle him, grinding down on him purposefully.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and squeezing his legs together. His hands grasp your hips, squeezing desperately.

Perfect. What a perfect little reaction.

You put your weight on his thighs, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing.

“You’re worrying about the silliest things sometimes. I like when you get hard.”

“You do?”

“Mhm, I do”, you dance your fingers to his neck and close them around it.

Yoongi parts his lips, fluttering his lashes droopily. You aren’t even applying pressure and his head already feels heavier than before.

“It’s so hot when you get hard for me. Can I give it a feel, my love?”

He nods his head, humming a shy yes.

You keep your dominant hand on his neck, using the other to feel him up. His sleeping shorts are very thin, giving you the most delicious sensations on your fingertips. You like how hard cock feels under clothing. How it is just so there and hard and how you can feel out the shape of it. You especially love it when Yoongi gets hard because he is a very leaky man. His once dark grey shorts become almost black at the parts where his tip naturally lies. Wet and sticky. That’s how the fabric feels as you trace him.

“Hm”, the sound leaves him shakily.

You lift your gaze. He has his eyes closed, biting down on his lower lip and furrowing his brows. His hands lie on each side of his head, opening and closing repeatedly. Even now he is looking for someone to hold his hands. If you weren’t suddenly filled with so much gluttony for this man, you would hold his hands until forever ends.

But instead, you abandon his neck to pull down his shorts and take out his cock. Yoongi rips his eyes open, reaching for you to stop you. He can’t get very far and then you have him gripping the sheets and rolling his eyes back as you sink his cock into your mouth.

You lick and suckle his tip as if it was a dripping popsicle, slurping and humming the same way.

Yoongi doesn’t know words right now. He doesn’t know speech. Nor think. All he knows is noise. Make noise. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp and sigh and gasp again. Breathe. Gasp. Whimper. Gasp again. Yoongi doesn’t know words, nor speech and all he can really do is fight for air.

His trembling gasps and little sounds only strengthen your hunger for him. You moan, wiggling your tongue around him in sloppy yet calculated swirls. He tastes different as a human. More…human. As a vampire, he tastes sweet and definitely magically addicting. His essence is meant to charm, to pull the person in and make them dependent on its taste. Right now, all his essence serves is to prove how needy you get him. He doesn’t taste sweet, but he tastes good. So good. Even as a human he tastes so good.

“Wow Yoongi, you’re so yummy”, you lull, taking him in deeper with a delicious moan.

Yoongi finally gains back control. He grasps your hair and tugs you away.

“Stop.”

“Don’t like it?” you make sure, fleeing his weak grasp to instead litter his inner thighs with love bites and hickeys.

It is Not easier to handle for Yoongi. Not in the fucking slightest. He stutters his words as if he never spoke before.

“We, we aren’t at ho-home. You’re so loud, you’ll wake, wake your grandparents.”

You stifle a chuckle.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, biting his thigh on the most sensitive spot.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and throwing his hand over his mouth.

“Quiet please”, he tries to hiss but it comes out as a needy beg.

You smile, changing position so you were hovering over him. Your crotch is pressed into his balls, his cock rubs against your stomach. Up until this point in your relationship the thought of being fucked by you had never crossed Yoongi’s mind. He didn’t fantasise about it, didn’t visualise it nor wished for it. Quite frankly, he never even considered it an option. Now all his mind produces are images of having you pump into him. He gulps repeatedly, gawking at you with hazy eyes. What is happening to him?

You move closer to his face, grinding your crotch against him naturally. His hips chase it, his head is pounding. Holy fuck, you’re messing him up.

“We’ll be quiet. Don’t worry”, you whisper, intertwining your hands with his’, “at least, I’ll be quiet”, you add with a teasing smirk.

“Princess”, he croaks, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah?” you breathe, kissing his neck.

Yoongi speaks with his eyes rolled back and his body shivering with each kiss.

“Promise me to be quiet.”

“I promise.”

“I want you.”

“I want you too”, you say and trace his ear with your tongue.

He trembles, ripping his hands from your grasp to hold your waist instead. Just once then he already changes his mind again and looks for your hands.

“Mhm, I want you like crazy”, you purr as your tongue continues to trace his ear. He seems to be sensitive there and you like it when he shivers.

“Princess…” he sighs, giving you all the shivers you so like to witness.

“Yoongi…” you breathe, kissing a path down his clothed torso until you have his cock under your lips again.

You take him back inside, paying attention to his tip while your hands do the rest. It feels so good and Yoongi is feeling his control slip. Panic. He presses his legs together and reaches down, tugging you away.

“Wait, just wait”, he gasps out.

You sit back on your heels.

“Changed your mind?”

“No, I just.” He sits up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. “Sorry, it’s fast. For me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m sorry for rushing you. Do you want to stop?” you say, rubbing his back.

“No, I just need a moment. I, I get so horny so fast. And, and then I can’t control my thoughts anymore and it’s”, he huffs out air, “fucking shit, I’m talking actual ass.”

“No, you’re not. Why do you wanna control your thoughts during these moments?”

“Because…I don’t know. They’re really sexual.”

“And? I’m having sexual thoughts too.”

“You do?”

Your eyes meet. You nod your head.

“But they’re really sexual”, he insists.

“Samesies.”

He blinks rapidly, looking away. He rubs his own neck, doing so nervously.

“You know what I think your issue is right now?”

“Tell me.”

“Your sense of smell sucks ass.”

He scoffs, cocking his brow at you in question.

You get out of bed and put yourself in front of him. You take off your pants. Yoongi tries not to look but still ends up looking. Once bared, you step closer. Right between his legs so he has no choice but to look at you.

“Can I have your hand?”

He offers it to you, switching between looking at your face in question and your middle in desire.

You flip his hand so his palm is facing up, then guide it between your legs. You hold his pointer finger, moving it through your folds so he can really get a feel of how wet he makes you.

Yoongi purrs, tightening his jaw.

“Can you feel that?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“You might not be able to smell how wet I am, but I am”, you say and grind down on his finger, “you’re not the only one horny. I’m horny too, so much. I’m so wet for you”, you mewl, giving him pretty eyes.

“Holy fuck, princess”, he chokes out, pulling you into a kiss with his left hand on the nape of your neck. He shakes off your hand, taking over between your legs. His middle and ring finger sink into you, his thumb begins to massage your clit.

Not having expected the sudden burst of pleasure, you whimper into the kiss, grasping his shoulders to stop your wobbling knees from giving up completely.

Yoongi curls his long fingers, grazing over your spot most sensitive with such precision that you have to break the kiss just to gasp his name.

“That’s nice, mhm?” confidence is finally in his voice. The raspy deepness of it has returned now that he is in his comfort space; making you feel good.

“Yeah”, you gasp, following it with a wobble of your knees, “is so nice.”

“Mhm. Put your arms around me.”

You follow, burying your hands deep in his soft hair. It’s so soft and thick. He has so much of it. It’s so fucking amazing to play with it.

“That’s it. Hold onto me, my beloved”, he whispers, falling back into the kiss with you. You use your tongues instantly, sighing and moaning quietly. All while his hand continuously drags the warmest and deepest pleasure to the surface. Every curl of his fingers, every rub of his thumb is placed with precision. As if he studied your body to the point of perfection. And in a sense he did. He might still hide his own spots from you, feeling too scared to show himself this way, but he knows the paths of your body by heart. While he hid behind always taking the lead, he learned so that he can now make you sigh so very much with just three of his fingers.

But you are stubborn. He likes this about you even if sometimes your stubbornness leads him into rather overwhelming situations. Like your right hand suddenly dropping to his cock to begin jerking him off. He breaks the kiss, moaning loudly just to follow it up with a gasp.

“Quiet”, he hisses.

“I’m not the one being loud”, you throw back sassily, twisting your hand around his heated tip. It looks so flushed between your fingers, like the prettiest shade if pink.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he presses out through gritted teeth, huffing out air in time with his fingers fucking into you. Again and again. In a fast, sloppy rhythm.

But because you are you – the most perfect, stubborn, giving goddess – you don’t crumble under his touches. You match his rhythm, pumping his cock with such sloppy goodness that Yoongi feels dizzy. He moans into your mouth, tilting his head back. He licks your lips, wobbling so much that he accidentally licks the tip of your nose as well. It makes you giggle, which in return messes him up more.

“I don’t think that you’re gonna ruin me” you whisper, watching the effect of your hand job wash over his face. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes rolled back and halfway open.

“Brat”, he croaks, “ahmmmm”, he moans, squeezing his lips together just so he can’t be loud.

“But I’m your brat.”

“Mhm, my brat. My pretty, stubborn brat”, he whispers and kisses you deeply. This is the kind of kiss which would already make you weak in normal situations but with his hand between your legs, it is quite frankly impossible to receive.

It suddenly gets so, so hard to keep the rhythm going. Yoongi, who notices the faltering touches around his cock, smirks into the kiss, picking up skill to show you how good he can give it to you. He always gets what he wants. He is going to ruin you. Your sweet, little attempts to break him first might distract him for a while, but at the end of it, he is going to get what he wants. You’re his perfect soulmate, you are going to crumble for him even if you try so very hard it make him crumble first.

You squeak a little, breaking the kiss. You twist his hair and tug, forcing his head to tilt back. Your eyes are half lidded and droopy as you look at him, your lips are parted.

“You have to…do better.”

He smirks, “don’t test me.”

“Try me.”

With a soft push he puts distance between you and him. His fingers are gone for now, grabbing your wiggling hips. He slides off of bed, falling to his knees and dropping his head on the edge of the mattress. Like this, he pulls you onto his face, licking your pussy with an eager tongue the second it comes into contact with you.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, having to twist the blanket for support.

“Lean on me, princess. I’ve got you”, he purrs between licks, caressing your shaking legs with eager hands.

“This is unfair, oh god Yoongi”, you mewl, dropping your head. You are really trying to be quiet. Yoongi not so much now that he is pussy drunk and lost. He is so noisy in his licks and slurps, adding throaty growls and delicious purrs to it. How obviously in his element he finally is. How little he cares for his environment when his face is buried between your legs. The switch will never fail to make you shake. To have him go from shy and reserved to a complete noisy munch. Oh, you can barely handle it.

But even Yoongi has to stop. Even Yoongi has to come to the painful realisation that humans have to breathe, that he can’t spend minutes without air. He growls as he does it, looking up at you with blown out pupils and a messy lower face.

“You’re my fucking everything, princess”, he purrs, “fuck, why is air so sparse?”

“Cause you’re human.”

“Mhm, if only there was a spell for unlimited air. I’d live right here”, he lulls, dragging you back onto his tongue to devour every inch of your addictive pussy. Even as a human he loves the taste. Even as a human he feels charmed by it. Even as a fucking human, he can’t get enough. He feels mad in desire. His thoughts are scrambling again, spitting the most vile things imaginable, but he feels no shame anymore. Just maddening desire to make all these thoughts a reality. He wants you shaking, trembling and whimpering his name. He wants you wetting his face and gripping his hair. This is what he is good at. Even as a human. The proof is right there. He exists to give and give and give.

You can’t even be mad at him for putting his own needs on the backbench because he is currently making you come insanely close to an orgasm and you are panicking.

You begin fleeing, gripping his hair, stumbling while he continuously drags you back onto his tongue.

“It’s too much, please”, you beg.

Yoongi slows down, using the moment to catch his breath. His tender hands rub the back of your thighs, soothing the shakes in them.

“Hurts?”

“No, too close.”

“Mhhhm”, he purrs and stops caring about your little whines. He drags you back onto his tongue, sucking and licking you on the spots most sensitive. Being close isn’t a reason to stop. He won’t entertain your begs when this is the reason. You talk big about making him crumble first, but he is hellbent on proving you wrong. He sucks and slurps, moving your hips on his tongue so you can feel everything. He basks in every throb, in every pulse and new droplet of pleasure you feed him. Fuck, he loves eating your pussy.

You twist his hair, wobbling so incredibly much, and throw your hand over your mouth, scrunching your face as he makes you feel so much pleasure that it is hard to be quiet. He is definitely not easier to handle as a human. His fangs and long tongue might be missing, but his talent remains. This is it. If you hadn’t known it yet, you definitely know now. Yoongi is actually good. He isn’t just good because of vampiric magic, he is good because he has skill and an actual, insane obsession with eating pussy.

“Yoongi please”, you beg because begging is all you can do.

He sucks on your clit with vigour, reminding you how sensitive you are there. The wet, fast licks which follow afterwards do the rest.

You have to climax on his face if you wanted to or not. You really want to. He feels so good.

“Yoon- you…unfair”, you choke out and feel the knot break. Hard and very hot. And because it’s Yoongi, he presses you closer as you throb, making it fucking impossible to function. If it wasn’t for your hand, you would squeal his name as loudly as you can.

You begin fleeing. Yoongi doesn’t let you. He uses magic on you to lift you and flip you so you were kneeling by the bed with your tummy against it. He cages you in behind him, kissing your neck with wet, puffy lips. His cock is between your legs, fucking back and forth to grind against your pussy. Electric. He makes you feel electric. And so utterly his’.

“Did you just use magic to, to move me?”

“Hm, maybe”, he purrs, placing his left hand over yours while he lets his right slip between your legs again.

You writhe and squirm, pressing into him just as much as you flee him. You whimper softly, reaching behind yourself to twist his hair. He purrs, cuddling closer as his hips grind into you.

“Mhm, now you’re so wet”, he whispers, playing with your clit even if you’re still sensitive, “and so fucking puffy. Mhm princess, love when you’re like this.”

“Yoongi please”, you get out, dropping your head against him.

“Sensitive?”

“Yeah”, you mewl.

“You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his cock against your clit.

You gasp, trying to form words.

“What’s the matter, mhm?”

“I love you.”

He falters, stilling for just a moment before he hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, my beloved”, he says against it, following it up with a rub to your clit with his tip, “boop.”

“Huh?” you laugh instantly, craning your neck to look at him.

“Did I do it right, mhm?” he chuckles.

“I guess? Oh god, Boongie you’re so cute.”

“Mhm, you’re cuter”, he says and slips his hand to your hips. “Stay quiet, I know you can do it”, he says and breaks away to lie down on the floor with his head between your legs. With one magical push he has you smothering him with your wet pussy.

“Yoo-”, you silence yourself by dropping your head on the bed and biting the blanket. You huff out air repeatedly, writhing in his strong hold as he drags burning pleasure to the surface.

You learned your lesson. Don’t challenge Yoongi about who gets the other to break first because you will lose. Even as humans you can’t win against him. His touches are too powerful, his devotion just too strong. With drool soaking the blanket and your legs shaking, you take the sloppy head he gives you against your childhood bed while the blinds are still open.

If it wasn’t already fucking hot, the way he gives it to you does the rest. It isn’t long and he has you throbbing on his tongue a second time. The blanket works overtime to silence your squeals, his magic keeps you from completely sitting down on him.

He also uses his magic to move you after you flee in overstimulation. He is on his feet within seconds, carrying you in his arms with ease. You know that he is using magic because it tingles a little. Or maybe you are tingling because he literally made you see stars.

Whatever the case, you are utterly and completely his’ right now. He gazes up at you with his face wet and his lips puffy and deep pink.

“Still wanna talk big?” he asks.

“I can’t stand you”, you choke out, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He laughs, “it’s what you get for challenging me, you little brat.”

You tremble, exhaling shakily.

“Aww poor baby, did I break you?” he coos as he climbs onto bed with you. You sit on his lap like this, hugging him oh so tightly.

“Shut up.”

He laughs deeply, patting your butt. He kisses your shoulder, speaking softly.

“You did really well.”

“I still can’t stand you.”

“Princess, no. Don’t talk like this”, he whines in a chuckle.

You lift your head, meeting his smiling face. You smile at him instantly, cupping his glowing cheeks.

“I lied. I can’t get enough of you”, you say.

“That’s so much better.”

You giggle, pushing him down to kiss him. Yoongi falls with a throaty moan, letting you straddle him gladly. This is a position he will always feel comfortable in. You and he are equal here and he loves it when you show him that you can push him around easily.

You moan and sigh into the kiss, feasting on the taste of you as your hands are restless on his torso. His own hands are restless as well and somehow in the fumbling of it all, he manages to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor, Yoongi pulls you to his face instantly so he can kiss and suck your breasts. Like this, your pussy is grinding against his clothed stomach, messing up his shirt.

“I want your skin, please Yoongi.”

“Rip my shirt”, he lulls, face first in your tits.

“How??”

“Challenge the feelings and use their strength. Trust me.”

You do as you are told, ripping the shirt with ease.

“Yoongi”, you moan, throwing the shirt to the side. It repairs itself mid air because Yoongi does it, dropping to the floor in one piece.

“Good job, my good girl. Fuck, my good girl”, he praises, burying himself back in your tits to devote his everything to them.

You close your eyes in a roll, dropping your forehead on the edge of the backrest. You have what you craved. You are grinding against his naked stomach, feeling everything. His soft skin, his happy trail and his warmth. If he hasn’t already ruined you before, he definitely would have now. But he already made you crumble, resulting in the grinds to make you twitch each time your clit comes into contact with him.

“You feel so good…”

“Mhm, you feel so good too, princess.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

He smiles, “wanna fuck you too.”

You shimmy down until you have his cock under you. You wrap your fingers around his base, guiding it through your folds.

Yoongi purrs, gazing at you with droopy eyes and a giddy smile. His big hands caress your thighs, his chest heaves up and down in excited breaths.

“My beautiful”, he sighs, lowering his lids just a little more, “can’t wait to be inside.”

“I’ll do it now, I can’t wait. Ready?”

He smiles up at you, nodding his head with a hum.

“I love you.”

“I love you too”, he whispers, arching his back when you sink him into you.

He bottoms out within seconds, filling you up so good that you have to gasp for air.

“Does it hurt?” he asks worriedly.

But you shake your head, “it feels so good. So warm and, and...” You shiver, smiling at him. “And so right.”

“It does princess, it does”, he agrees with adoration in his honey voice.

You start moving, struggling within seconds because your legs are wobbly. So to help you, Yoongi props his arms up and holds both your hands, giving you something to lean on this way. Moving becomes so much easier, the connection even deeper.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fucking beautiful, fuck”, Yoongi gets out, gazing at you with droopy eyes. His toes are curling. The pleasure you give him is intense and he wants to close his eyes, but missing out on your beautiful face would hurt too much. So he powers through it. He gazes even if his eyes burn in exhaustion, he smiles even if his lips want to form moans instead.

To be looked at with such love makes you feel so good. So goddamn good that you don’t have to bounce on him to feel eternal. He is glad that you aren’t because it would set him off with the first movement. He likes the slowness of it, how gentle you move and how it makes both of you float in a warm, fluffy cloud of good pleasure.

“You’re beautiful, Yoongi”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“You are”, he sighs and closes his eyes.

To watch him let go and truly enjoy it is too much. “Oh god”, you tremble, having to gasp. You stop instantly, otherwise you would have lost yourself.

Yoongi opens his eyes and furrows his brows when he sees the sudden panic on your features.

“What’s the matter?”

“My control, I-”

“You’re safe, let it happen.”

“But what will happen to you?”

“Let it happen”, he encourages you and then his dark brown eyes glow purple.

Your control crumbles instantly. Your eyes match his glow.

“Yoongi, your eyes.”

“Yours are the same.”

“What?”

Thankfully you have a mirror on the wall just high enough that you can see yourself in it, meeting your purple eyes. You exhale shakily, meeting Yoongi’s equally as purple eyes in the reflection.

He smiles, squeezes your hands when you laugh in both disbelief and the overwhelming happiness such a connection brings you.

“Yoongi, oh my god, we’re the same.”

“I know.”

You turn to him, cupping his cheeks.

“My love, oh my love.”

He leans into your touch, sitting up moments later because he wanted to be closer to you. Like this, his stomach gives such nice pressure to your clit. He lifts you for just a second with the help of his magic and crosses his legs, making it more comfortable for both of you to be so close. Like this, you sit on his lap with your own legs around his hips.

“My love”, he whispers, moving your hips slowly so the connection can deepen even more.

The glow becomes brighter and brighter. It is just you and him. You have never been closer than right now. If there was still doubt about your connection somewhere in this universe, this right here is the final proof. You share the same breath, the same warmth and the same colour of eyes as magic courses through both your bodies. You and he are both witches whose magic is based on their emotions and in this moment, your emotions are the same, your magic is one.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes for you, ___”, he whispers, cupping your cheek.

“I’d move the fucking stars for you, Min Yoongi.”

He smiles. Perhaps your eyes deceive you, but there are markings of purple suddenly glowing under his skin. Like a tattoo invisible made visible now that you let his own control slip oh so safely. And as your hips dance with his’ and your hands stay connected with him, the air around you begins dancing in millions of small stars.

“What’s happening?”

“We’re moving the stars, my love”, he whispers.

The stars form their own galaxies, starting from the stars on your ceiling and spreading around you in clouds.

“Yoongi.”

“Don’t cry, my love.”

“We can do that?”

He nods his head with the love growing in his eyes.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you just as much” he sighs, rubbing your hip in soothing as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the same markings glow under your skin. He loves you so very much that he paints more stars onto your shared galaxy until the very room is filled with them.

“Keep moving like this. It feels so good”, he tells you.

“Oh god.” You shiver. “Yeah, it does. Wow, it does.”

You chase the warmth between your legs. For but a moment, you had forgotten what you and he were doing. The magical moment was just too wonderfully distracting. Now that he made you aware of it again, you can’t help but feel just a little overwhelmed from it. This is sex, but this is so much more. You are chasing pleasure, but you are also chasing so much more. This is true love and you are chasing the addictive feeling of making magic with the One.

The stars are endless in the room, purple nebulas have started to form around you and him. The glow of them paints his skin a slight purple, making you glow just as much.

So this is what it feels like. This is what giving up control feels like to someone like you. It is warm. It is so intensely warm that you have to seek his comfort by hiding away in his neck.

“I love you so much, oh god”, you choke out.

“I love you too, my beloved witch”, he whispers. His voice is trembling, his breath is just a little uneven.

Your hearts are racing, the parts where you touch are heated and damp. You deepen the contact by burying your hands in his hair. It feels even softer now that magic sets him aflame. He shudders and exhales shakily, meeting your movements with desperate rolls of his hips.

“Yoon- ah”, you squeak, curling your toes in electric pleasure.

Yoongi answers you in a small whimper and his fingers dimpling your softest spots. His own face is nuzzled into your shoulder, his veins can barely handle the endless pleasure your warmth gives him. He feels home right now. Home and finally in harmony with himself. There are no dark voices in the back of his mind, no curse urging him on to rip you apart, no desires of violence getting stronger and stronger the deeper he falls into you. There is no darkness. Just galaxies of purple and melodies of endless love. He feels out of control, but it creates good in the world.

Yoongi has never felt more in harmony with himself than he does right now. And he wants to share this harmony with you. He wants you to bask in the warmth and silence of it and give you the deep, magical pleasure he feels as it happens.

He presses you a little closer to his stomach, basking in the moan you muffle in his neck. He rolls his hips into you, eliciting yet another moan from you. Again. He needs to make you feel as good as you make him feel.

And it all gets a little too much for you. The connection, his touch, the pressure on your clit and the warmth of having him inside. At all gets a little too much for you.

“Yoongi, I’m cumming.”

“Let go, my love. Let go.”

Your high came sooner than he thought it would, but he doesn’t mind. He holds you through it, looking at the room with awe in his purple eyes. You make the stars dance in swirls and waves.

“You’re beautiful, my little witch. Your magic’s so beautiful”, he sighs, squeezing you closer to him to really give you the best you ever had, “you’re so beautiful, my love. You’re…so…beautiful…”

You feel so free. This is the first thought you have. You feel so fucking free. He makes you feel so good and you don’t have to hold back on anything. The release of pressure, energy and magic brings you to fucking tears.

“I love you so much, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you…too- ah, I’m gonna cum”, he gets out, tugging at your hips, “sit up, I’m close.”

“Don’t hold back, please Yoongi let it happen”, you beg him, speeding up your hips.

“But- ah a-ha, but-”

You lift your head, spilling tears when you realise that the magic has also painted his hair purple. You know that you match his colour, that once again your connection became even more visible. And you never felt more certain about having him paint your walls than you do right now. Let him seal the connection. Let him make you his’.

“Let go, my beloved witch”, you whisper, cradling his cheeks as you dance your hips on him. It is a little difficult because he really ruined you with your high, but you want to do it for him. You want him to experience the same intense high as you did. He is your soulmate and he deserves to feel amazing. Yoongi is breathing heavier and heavier, letting out more and more little whimpers as his eyes just very slowly go out of focus.

“Let go please. I want to be yours”, you beg him, clenching around him.

“___”, Yoongi whimpers and breaks under you, rolling his eyes back and closing them because it all gets too much for him. The stars around you tremble and dance, his fingers dig deep into your softness as his seed covers your every inch, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi. I love you so much”, you choke out, helping him ride out his high and feeling so good that you make the stars dance just as much.

He falls down after his high, dragging you with him so he could hug you just as much as he tries to kiss you. You try to kiss him back, but both of you are so out of breath and you keep giggling and smiling that it’s difficult to find a rhythm. It makes the kiss so much more special because it is honest and it is real and in this moment, you and he carry your fucking feelings in every giggle and every shaky breath. You just did it. You sealed your connection. You let it happen and as you did, you created galaxies out of nothing. You lost control together until purple was all around you and flowing through your veins. You became one soul.

The stars become less and less as you kiss until only the luminescent stickers on your ceiling glow in an ever fading purple.

“Oh god Yoongi, we actually made galaxies.”

“I know. Holy fuck, I lost control and it didn’t make me violent.”

“I’m so happy for you, oh Yoongi”, you choke out, lifting your head so you could meet his eyes. His hair is black again, the glow under his skin stopped but his eyes were still a slight purple. Darker than before, but the remnants of strong magic still flicker in them.

You touch his cheek, his neck, his hair.

“Your skin was glowing and, and your hair. Your hair was purple.”

“I know. You were the same.”

“We were the same. Yoongi, you and I are so right.”

“We are. Ah! Mhhhm”, he suddenly tenses up, scrunching his nose, “okay, don’t do that. My cock’s gonna fall off.”

“Huh? I just moved a little. You normally like that.”

“Yeah, not here. Uff, I’m so sensitive please get off.”

He makes you laugh, which makes slipping off a very whiny procedure for him.

“So I take it that your human cock can only go once?”

“Definitely yep, wow that hurt”, he says and rubs his cock soothingly, “my poor little wiener.”

“Yoongi”, you snort, “why would you call it like that, you silly bean?”

He laughs with boyish eyes, kicking his feet as he does it. He really makes you so happy that you have to throw yourself on your back and laugh just as much.

You each drink some water after your laugh. You also each go to the toilet and clean up as best possible. You don’t bother to put on clothes, waiting for Yoongi to come back. He does so quickly, locking the door behind him and running to the bed.

“Kook and Tae are downstairs. I ran so fast. I was scared they’ll see my naked ass.”

“But you did it?”

“I hope”, he says and slips under the blanket. He wiggles around a bit, making cute sounds.

“Comfy?” you snicker fondly.

“Yeah, so warm”, he purrs and nuzzles into the pillow with a scrunch of his nose.

You and he gaze at each other like this. He cups your cheek, tracing your skin slowly.

“My little witch”, he whispers.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.

“I can’t believe you let me cum inside. What if something happens?”

“If it’s anyone, it’s you Min Yoongi.”

Seriousness washes over his features as the meaning of your words sink into him. He tries to speak calmly but his voice trembles.

“I don’t know what you see in me, but whatever it is, I’m so fucking glad that you do.”

“I see everything in you. My past, my present and my future.”

Yoongi pulls you close, hugging you against him.

“My beloved. Holy fuck, I love you”, he presses out, cradling you with such desperate love it feels as if he wanted to melt with you.

“I love you too, my beloved.”

216 notes · View notes

ivygguk · 24 hours

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jeon jungkook fic recs!!

pt 3

One-shots:-

🪻Tempest @kooktrash

summary:- you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

🪻Mr Take Your Bitch @bunnyhugs77

🪻Lost and found @kooktrash

summary:-your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

🪻 Better Boyfriend Than Him @jungqkook

summary:- jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

🪻Peach @hongjoongscafe

summary:- where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

Series:-

🪻Close To you @muniimyg

summary:-in which oc and jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it

🪻 Through The Mist @solecize

summary:- you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ

180 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 1 day

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Before I Leave You (Pt.70)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender.

Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,

W/c: 12.6k

Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.

There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.

Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.

Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.

For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.

It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.

The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)

You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.

The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.

Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.

Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.

It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.

You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.

A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.

It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.

You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.

The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.

After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.

“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.

You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.

"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.

Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.

Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”

Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”

"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.

"Help me sit on the counter first?"

Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.

Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.

The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.

It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.

Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.

(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).

“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."

“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it”

their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi.

Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-”

Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich.

"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know."

Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor."

Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?"

Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"

"Both?"

"Both."

You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."

"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.

“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.

He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,

"Did you just fucking bite me?"

"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.

Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears.

"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.

You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head.

"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.

"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.

“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.

Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over. “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is.

“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!”

Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise.

Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.

Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs.

“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”

Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-”

Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.

“Come on- epic high is a classic.”

“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”

At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.

(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)

Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.

Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.

You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever.

It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.”

You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house.

You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.

"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands.

Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you.

“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby).

Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-"

"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth.

Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.

He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy.

“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there.

“Still dry,” He says.

You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway.

You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here.

Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree.

Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat.

He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact.

“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does.

“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it.

Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through.

~-~

Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.

"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.

Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.

Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"

Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,

"I don't have anything to wear."

Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.

"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."

"The blue one?"

"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.

"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."

Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."

They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.

You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"

Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.

Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.

It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them. Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.

You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.

You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.

Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"

"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.

All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.

She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.

They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.

Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.

Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.

Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?

Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-

Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-

You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.

Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.

Tae chose it for you.

You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.

"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.

"I was thinking about my wedding dress."

Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.

But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.

Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories.

Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?

(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)

"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.

"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too.

"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."

"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.

"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."

"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more.

Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.

You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.

The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands.

When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.

Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung."

Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.

"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering.

"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me."

Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress.

Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?"

Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-"

Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her.

“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you.

“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”

And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below.

It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs.

They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome.

“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”

He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair.

Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could."

"No one's blaming you hyung-"

"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.

“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying."

Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.

Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.

“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized.

Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”

And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.

Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.

Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.

Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.

The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.

“It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”

Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."

Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.

Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.

You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.

And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.

Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.

Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.

Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.

Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.

Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.

Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.

For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.

Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.

"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."

And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.

“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”

You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”

“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."

Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too. They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.

Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.

By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice.

~-~

You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been.

They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.

You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.

He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul.

But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying.

Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck.

You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.

You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.

Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there.

"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-" he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.

And yet, you still wash him.

You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.

Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.

Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.

His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart.

You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it.

Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.

He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook.

And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol.

You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon.

“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”

“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.

“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”

“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”

“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”

Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,

“Yeah, I’d tell you.”

~-~

But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.

The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.

The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.

You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.

“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?

“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”

“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.

There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.

Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."

You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).

the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta.

Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.

How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now.

It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels-

It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest.

You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls.

You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true.

The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do.

But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?”

You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side.

Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again.

It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep.

He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle.

“I bet they were fucking delicious.”

“Thank you Joonie, they were.”

Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely.

“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?”

“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.

“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out.

They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream.

“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway."

"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.

"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway."

It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.

“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.

“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”

“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“

“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”

“Moonbitch Kookie.”

You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.

“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it.

Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”

You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.”

Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good.

“You have to be more careful.”

“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)

The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened.

Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”

“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.”

“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.

“I don’t want you to think less of me.”

Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”

“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.

"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.

"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it. “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good." Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.

He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"

"You never asked Yoongi."

"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.

Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”

Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”

Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.

“What do you mean by impartial?”

Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”

Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.

“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”

Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”

At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.

When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.

Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.

“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”

Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”

You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.

“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.

Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”

“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.

Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.

His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.

“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.

Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.

“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”

You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)

Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.

“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”

“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”

“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”

Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”

“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”

Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“

“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-” “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”

Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!”

His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.

The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.

You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.

Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long. “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”

Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?” Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.” “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”

~-~

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Notes:

Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3

i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!

The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3

What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.

idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?

i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.

idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!

i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...

i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.

i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3

Until next time!

214 notes · View notes

andi-kook · 2 days

Text

hard thoughts on step dad jungkook !!!

WARNINGS: PWP smut, pseudo-incest, rough finger fucking, slight exhibitionism, daddy kink, slut shaming, slapping, hair pulling, marking, biting, no aftercare cos mean jk, you are in your 20s while jk is in his 30s ♡ i just got sooo horny seeing jungkook’s fingers so yeah. fuck i miss him. i want to ride him so bad.

step dad jk who would pull you on his lap at the dining room, flipping your skirt to expose your white cotton panties and began palming your cunt while kissing you – your mother showering upstairs after cooking breakfast for all of you. you placed your hand on his buff chest, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but this only angered your step dad and tugged your hair harshly as his hand cupped your already wet cunt aggressively. “i told you not to resist me,” jungkook would say, dark round eyes glaring at your flushed face. “you’re mine. i’ll take you whenever, however, and wherever i want.”

you could only whimper as he tugged at your hair. “now open those thighs for me, baby. let daddy fuck you with his fingers before your mom comes down and sees us – not that you’d be bothered by it. you’re a slut anyway.”

his dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine and a jolt of lust that made you wetter. jungkook ordered you to suck on his fingers, maintaining eye contact as you did so, before he used those same fingers to furiously rub your clit inside your panties. you arched your back in pleasure, gripping his polo and the table tightly as jungkook began to suck and nibble your neck.

“f-fuck, d-daddy,” you moaned, biting your lower lip as jungkook’s fingers enter your slick hole. “oh fuck! daddy!”

“so tight, baby. how come you’re still so fucking tight after i fucked you so many times already, hmm? not letting any cock inside you? only daddy’s?” jungkook bit on your skin, making you jump, clit grazing his rough palm.

“y-yes daddy. i-i only w-want your c-cock,” you panted, his thrusts going deeper, fingers curling inside you. “daddy, please, g-gonna cum.”

“not yet, wait for my go signal,” jungkook said through gritted teeth. “you’re not going to cum until i say so.”

“but daddy–,”

“hey guys! i’ll be down in a minute. you can start eating without me!” your mom exclaimed from upstairs, making your eyes wide and your heart race.

jungkook didn’t stop fucking his fingers into your squelching pussy. “come on, baby, don’t be rude. answer your mother.” he taunted, a lazy smirk appearing on his face.

“o-okay, mo-m!”

“good girl,” your step dad praised. “we’re going to wait for your mother to come down those stairs before you cum, okay?”

you were mortified. you stared at jungkook with wide eyes. “what? jungkook, no, that’s–,”

he pulled his fingers out of your cunt and slapped you with that hand, narrowing his gaze at you. “who said you can say no to me, huh? who told you to call me jungkook?”

you cowered in fear, curling into a ball against him. “i-i’m sorry d-daddy, i just–i got scared.”

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “seems to me you need some punishing, baby. you’re awfully defiant these days,” jungkook placed his fingers back inside your hole. “i’m going to fucking destroy you tonight, baby. in the meantime, don’t cum until you hear your mother coming downstairs. got it?”

you nodded furiously, grinding your hips against his palm. “yes daddy, fuck, i’m sorry. i-i’ll be a g-good girl, promise.”

jungkook hummed as he connected your lips, asserting dominance with his tongue and you let him. and when you heard those familiar clicks of your mother’s heels coming down stairs, jungkook picked up his pace, making you bite on his lip as you fought the urge to moan out his name. daddy.

click, click, click.

“cum on daddy’s fingers, baby,” said jungkook through his bitten lower lip. “slut, you want your mother to see us, huh?” he teased.

click, click, click. two more steps and your mother would be in the living area already. you felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

click, click.

you came and jungkook pushed you off him, pulling his chair closer to the table to hide the patch of wetness on his pants along with his aching boner. your legs shook, almost making you fall face flat on the wooden floor, but fortunately – you caught yourself. you caught your breath as you walked to the refrigerator to grab yourself a glass of water.

“hey good morning, babe,” you heard your step dad greeting your mother followed by the sound of them kissing. your skin crawled. “thank you for cooking breakfast. it’s really good.”

“you’re welcome, hun. of course, you guys deserve the best breakfast. y/n, what are you doing there? come sit and eat before you go to school,” your mother’s sweet oblivious tone reached your ears. “have some more, honey. i know you have a long day at work today.”

you gulped down the glass of water in your hand, bringing it with you to the table. from your peripheral vision, you watched as jungkook picked up the sausage with the same fingers buried inside your cunt just moments ago. then, he sucked on his fingers, glancing briefly at you with a sly smirk ghosting on his lips. “hmm, taste so good.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #step dad jungkook #hard thoughts jungkook #andi.writes 💭#andi.kook 🐰

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7ndipity · 17 hours

Text

Y/n: Yoongi, could I borrow-

Yoongi: *hands them his laptop*

Y/n: oh, thanks. also, I didn't have a chance to get-

Yoongi: *hands them a coffee*

Y/n: ...marry me?

Yoongi: already took care of it, we've been married for three years

#incorrect bts quotes #bts incorrect quotes #incorrect bts #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts crack #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

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hannieehaee · 1 day

Text

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of blowjob, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 1709

a/n: the comeback of loser!jk<3

masterlist

"we should- mhph!," he gasped when you interrupted him with yet another kiss, attempting to speak again when your lips barely disconnected, "we should stu-" unfortunately for him, your lips did not stray too far.

you had no interest in holding any type of conversation right now. not when the pretty nerd was alone in your room for the third time this week.

surprisingly, despite your lack of ability to pay attention while jungkook was over at your place, your grades had still gone up. on the down side, this small improvement proved to be enough for your horny brain to make the executive decision that it'd be a waste to spend any more time studying when you could be playing with your pretty boy toy instead.

jungkook never had any complaints. even on the days you did study, you'd bid him goodbye by sitting on his cock and kissing up and down the length of his neck. he always left quite satisfied, though also dizzy with desire.

the sudden addiction you had with the boy couldn't have been helped. it was impossible for you to understand how he didnt have all the girls on campus trailing after him. he was clearly handsome, just incredibly shy. his shyness was so severe, he had trouble holding eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, only ever responding in incomprehensible stammers of nonsensical sentences.

you were more than fine to work with this. you knew it'd only take a while for him to warm up to you, and you were happy to patiently wait. the two of you sometimes conversed, getting to know each other past the math and the sex. he had already warmed up to you quite a bit, able to push his shyness aside for you. you'd break all that down any time you removed your shirt and propositioned yourself to him, but that was just to be expected.

as of now, your midterms were over and you felt no need to study for regular assignments despite jungkook's insistence. this meant you had all the time in the world to rearrange your tutoring sessions to fuck him instead. even as he attempted to form a single sentence, your tongue would find its way to his mouth, interrupting any thought that might break you away from his touch.

"i ... we're supposed to study at least a bit," he reminded you with a breathless tone as your lips went to his neck.

"don't wanna, baby. wanna fuck you instead. don't you want that too?", you whispered when you made your way to his ear, nibbling at it suggestively.

nodding feverishly, his eyes began fluttering shut, hands lamely digging into your hips like they usually did, "if- if you're sure."

you chuckled at his statement. you never had any second thoughts about fucking jungkook. he was a pretty nerd and former virgin whom you had the power to mold into the perfect boy for you. how could you ever pass out such an opportunity?

"i'm sure, pretty," you reassured as your hands went to pull up his shirt, yours joining soon after.

now sitting on his lap, top halves nude, you got up before his eyes could zero in on your breasts, throwing off your pants and helping him out of his own. unlike other times, you did not sit back down on his lap, instead opting to sit on the bed next to him, letting yourself fall back as your legs hung off the side of the bed.

looking up at him, you gestured at him to get off the bed with a quick flick of your eyes. the way he quickly understood and went to kneel between your legs made you chuckle. he was such a smart boy.

to this day, the pretty boy had never eaten you out. the extent of your sexual relationship only went as far as penetrative sex thus far. no oral had been involved for some reason – likely due to your need to jump him every time you saw him.

what you wanted most today was to claim your high on his tongue. you needed the pretty boy between your legs, struggling to lick into your cunt and fumbling to find your clit. you knew that with some guidance you'd easily get his skills at oral perfectly tailored to your tastes. that was the nicest part of having a pretty and untouched boy such as jungkook – you could teach him everything just the way you liked it.

staring up at you with his gigantic doe eyes, his brows furrowed in worry, likely unsure of what to do next whilst simultaneously intimidated by such a suggestive position. your fingers went to his chin, lifting up his face whilst yours lowered to almost meet in a kiss. a pretty whine was felt against your lips when you moved away just before your lips could connect.

"pretty?"

"yes?", a gulp accompanied his inquiry.

"will you be good and lick me?"

a groan left his lips before he began nodding dumbly, practically whining as he confirmed his enthusiasm.

"please ...", he whimpered when you created a larger gap between you, grabbing onto his hair and pushing his face into your bare cunt.

opening your legs wider, you led the pretty boy almost all the way to your pussy, stopping right before letting his lips touch your own.

"tongue out, baby," you instructed.

wordlessly, he followed your instructions as his hands went up to your thighs for support. he gave you a decided nod before leaning in and shyly licking into your cunt. groaning against you, he licked experimentally once, twice, thrice – enough times for his resolve to break and for his shyness to be replaced by want.

your hands continued to guide him by his hair, grinding into his mouth in sync with the movement of his lips. it was easy to fall into a trance while the desperate boy ate at you. it was as if he'd had prior practice, except you knew that wasn't the case. jungkook was clearly just letting his hunger take over, leading to an ethereal feeling you knew only jungkook could give you.

"kookie ... oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers digging harshly into his hair.

he reacted accordingly, groaning at both your voice and the feeling of his hair getting pulled at. his hips were also uncontrollable as they ground into the side of the bed, pathetically humping in hopes of some stimulation.

as he ate at you with an unprecedented desperation, he let out the prettiest whimpers and pleas against your cunt, leaving you lightheaded at how needy he was for you.

"it's so good ... fuck, so good. thank you- thank you, oh, fuck ...."

"tastes so fucking good, oh god ...."

"it's for me? fuck, tell me it's mine. t-tell me it's all for me, please ..."

"oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you ..."

encouraging him, you claimed him as yours, telling him how good he was and how you'd give him anything he wanted. he cried even more at this, continuing to thank you for granting him access to your cunt. you knew he meant this in both a sexual and emotional way, which only made you feel even dizzier.

a few minutes into jungkook sloppily making out with your cunt, you pulled him away a bit (despite his resistance), making him look up at you.

under you, you found foggy glasses, messy hair, and half his face covered in your wetness. and even with all that, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever had between your legs. he whined the moment you separated him, attempting to reconnect his lips with your cunt, but you remained stubborn.

"baby, you're doing so good for me," you wiped a bit at his lips, though he misinterpreted your intentions, instead taking your fingers into his mouth and suckling.

he was a natural at being a needy mess.

"need you to play with my clit, though, pretty. c'mere, like this. let me show you ..."

with your fingers, you showed him where he'd find your clit, instructing him to stick out his tongue for you again and kitten-lick at it. he went the extra mile and began suckling at it after just a few moments, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

going back and forth between licking at you and suckling at your clit, his intensity only increased the more you cried out for him, beginning to hump against his face with zero finesse. the squeaks of the bed could be heard as he himself bumped his cock against it, whimpering into your cunt out of neediness.

"g-gonna make me cum, kookie ... oh, fuck, i- i'm gonna cum, pretty. eat it f-for me? p-please?"

you hadn't planned on becoming so needy for him, but you also hadn't planned for him to be such a quick learner. he simply nodded into your cunt, speeding up his movements as he grumbled against your lips, clearly growing desperate to make you reach your high.

this was easily one of the most intense, neediest orgasms you'd ever had. your voice reached a pitch it never had before as you shamelessly used jungkook's face to get off. at some point his nose began nudging against your clit, almost causing you to black out in pleasure. by the end of it you had been singlehandedly doing all the work whilst jungkook let you guide his face however you wanted.

"fuck ... kookie," you breathed once your high subsided, "c'mere, baby."

climbing up the bed, he hovered over you, shy in initiating a kiss but putting his all into it the moment he realized how into it you were, suckling your juices out of his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

"was ... was it good?", he murmured into your neck once your lips had disconnected.

"it was so good, baby. you're such a quick learner," you caressed his back reassuringly, ignoring the hardness poking against you for a moment.

"want me to try it on you?" you asked, chuckling when he suddenly stilled.

"o-oh ... you want to?"

"lay on the bed, kookie. let me show how good it feels," you grinned at him, knowing you were about to blow his mind yet again.

#bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut

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badbtssmut · 22 hours

Note

actor!jk x actress!oc

they are filming at spicy scene (not a p*rn movie). while doing it, they are naked. the director says the scene needs more energy and passion so jk makes his fake strokes harder, and in one of those strokes, the tip slips in (he had been rubbing the tip on oc pussy for a while so she was wet!) and they fuck but like fr in front of the whole crew (the director might tell them to stop but...)

🐮 🐮 🐮

“Uhm, I am not so sure about this, boss, isn’t this a bit too…”

“Sshh, this is perfect,” The director hushed the cameraman. “It looks real, and that’s what we want, don’t we?”

“Uh, yeah, because it IS real…” The man stopped speaking, instead focusing back on his camera.

You didn’t really think you’d be having sex with your co-actor… but you weren’t complaining. You were eager for his cock ever since he started rubbing his hardened cock against your clothed pussy, and when he finally slipped inside, you almost moaned.

Fuck, it feels good.

The scene continued, your character moaning loudly, her head thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure.

His hands were gripping your hips, keeping you steady as his cock fucked you. Your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts, and he let out a shaky breath with every thrust. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

This wasn't supposed to happen. But the heat of the moment was too much. You couldn’t stop— didn’t want to stop. Jungkook’s hand gripped onto yours, pinning them down on the mattress as he adjusted himself, forcing every inch he had into you. You cried out as he filled you, stretching your pussy wide, you weren’t sure how much longer you could do this, you were dripping wet.

Jungkook leaned over, kissing your lips as he thrust deep and hard, slamming into you over and over again.

Until you couldn’t any longer, your pussy clenched, tightening around his thick shaft, milking him as you came, a loud cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

It took only a few more thrusts before he was cumming too, the hot seed filling you up, dripping down your ass as he pulled out.

“And cut!”

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts smut fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x female #Jungkook x female reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #smut jungkook #smut jk

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bluemari23 · 9 hours

Text

bts when their independent soulmate suddenly wants to be babied

pairing: bts x reader genre: fluff, soulmate au warnings: none masterlist

💜Namjoon

he would already be babying you. say no more. you need your blanket pulled up, oh, he's got that. you need your soda can opened, here you go, already opened. will even hand feed you food from his plate as you sit, curled up on his lap. has been waiting for you to ask him to take care of you, even if he already has been (discreetly). will dress you in his clothes because he knows you love the feel and scent of them.

💜Jin

he would be all up on that. has been preparing for this day. makes breakfast in bed for you and bundles you up in your shared bed with all of your favorite snacks and drinks near by as well as matching hair bands so your hair isn't in your face. makes you cute snacks and will cuddle you as long as you like. he will do anything to make you smile and listen to your every word.

💜Yoongi

has already been babying you since day one. love at first sight without a doubt. "you're my soul". has the innate desire to provide for you in any way including opening up all of your drinks and already knowing what you need before you do. listens to your body language. would be the one to let you lay on him so he can massage your body. loves taking care of you and will pout if you don't let him

💜Hoseok

loves taking care of people he loves, especially you. wouldn't need a second sound out of your mouth besides "please" before he is up on his feet and getting whatever you need. would take this as the time to pamper you with all of your favorites and procure matching pajamas out of no where for you. would paint your nails and do your hair. would hand feed you if you let him.

💜Jimin

is also a baby who loves to take care of his soulmate. would double his efforts to take care of you to the point where he might be overwhelming to others, but never to you. would hand feed you and help you drink. he wants you to be able to depend on him, no matter what is going on. will go out of his way to get to you with a call of his name. loves when you cling onto him and will kiss you any chance he gets.

💜Taehyung

would go all out in excitement. has been waiting to baby his baby forever. would take you to an all-inclusive spa and pay for everything you wanted. would spoil you (like he always does but shush). would do whatever you needed knowing you were probably stressed out or anxious about something to let him baby you. wouldn't let go of your hand knowing that you crave affection.

💜Jungkook

expect endless cuddles and kisses. literally. would be kicking his feet in excitement. has been trying to take care of you and baby you since day one since your younger than him. there is no way he is letting go of you or letting you leave your shared bed. will puff up your pillows for you and make sure you have your favorite blanket on you (the one that smells like him and is so soft)

#bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts headcanons #bts x reader #bts soulmate au #bts soulmate #fluff #bluemari23

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taexual · 14 hours

Text

sleepwalking ● 24 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: mentions of drugs (not graphic), depictions of smoking, explicit language, SUGGESTIVE THEMES (jungkook is a teasing little shit, there's also a Shower Scene at the end), angst, fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 23k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 24 ► soon, you'll be nothing but a memory and i won't keep you company when everything falls apart for you

When you woke up next to Jungkook on your final morning in London, the sun was already high, casting patterns shaped dangerously like his sleeping features on the walls of his hotel room.

You thought you had just closed your eyes two minutes ago, but you felt very well-rested, albeit not fully convinced that you were conscious yet. Jungkook was asleep next to you, your hands still locked together and your bodies so intertwined that it would take at least a few minutes for you to disengage from each other.

Naturally, you thought this was another one of those powerful dreams that would stay with you for the next few days after you woke up because of how much you wished it was real. But then you checked your phone, noticing several missed calls, and your mind finally sobered.

Jungkook stirred when he felt you reach for your phone, and he realised right away that your morning together had ended before it even began.

“I was hoping we’d sleep in,” he mumbled, startling you as you tried to quietly climb out of bed.

Your determination to start working melted at the sound of his groggy, somewhat uncertain voice, and you turned back. His eyes flickered open and met yours briefly before succumbing to heaviness again.

“It seems like we have, actually,” you said, lingering on the edge of the bed, and forgetting, almost, that the vibrating sound in the background of your focus came from your phone.

“It doesn’t count if we wake up and get out of bed right aw—” He paused to yawn, then rolled onto his back, looking at you through half-closed lids. “Sleeping in means we stay in bed, and—well, there are things we could do.”

He struggled to keep his eyes open—clearly, the only thing you’d do if you stayed in the room was actually sleep—but you couldn’t help but smile at his effort.

Just as you were about to respond, Jungkook pushed back the covers and your eyes drifted down to the angry red nail marks on his chest. He met your gaze and followed it downwards, raising his eyebrows before breaking into a grin.

“Hmm,” he mused. You already knew what his next words would be but couldn’t stop him in time. “These are exactly the things I was talking ab—”

“I know,” you finally cut in. “I figured.”

He returned his gaze to yours, cocking a tired eyebrow. “Yet you’re rushing out of bed?”

You lifted your phone and the display lit up with multiple notifications. He noticed, with his breath hitching enthusiastically in his throat, that your eyes were filled with regret. You didn’t want to go.

“Duty calls,” you said.

He looked away and muttered disdainfully, “I’m your duty.”

“Exactly,” you replied, smiling at the childish entitlement in his voice. “Your band is the reason I’m getting out of bed.”

You took your foot off the mattress and stood up properly, pausing as Jungkook groaned—deliberately, of course, to make you think he would say something else and have you stay in the room longer while you waited for him to speak.

To be perfectly honest, though, you didn’t linger in the room because you thought he still had something to say. You lingered because you wanted to stay here until you absolutely couldn’t anymore.

“Okay,” he finally said, looking up at you again. “I promise that our relationship won’t interfere with your career. But I really do wish you’d stayed with me for the rest of the morning.”

It took you considerable effort—and you would attribute this to professionalism when you inevitably started doubting yourself later—to resist the temptation to climb back into bed.

“I wish I could stay, too,” you said—firmly, so he wouldn’t try to persuade you, because you knew that he’d eventually succeed. “But I’ll see you after the show.”

“Before that,” he said.

You nodded. “If we have time.”

“No,” he disagreed immediately. “We’ll make time.”

Your smile grew with affection and warmth.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll see you a little later then, yeah? Will you be alright for a few hours?”

He exhaled very theatrically. “I suppose I’ll live.”

“Good,” you leaned over the bed to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I love you.”

He reached out to interlace your hands for just a second before you pulled away again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “I love you.”

Reluctantly parting from his warmth, you finally left the room, and Jungkook whined quietly to himself before starting his day as well. He knew his uncontrollable yearning would drive him to the brink of insanity even before the band’s rehearsal later today, so he was desperate for company until then.

He took a quick shower, then crossed the corridor to Minjun’s room where Minjun was binge-watching Evangelion, and dragged him outside for a coffee and a cigarette.

It was a beautiful morning: a little cold, but unusually sunny after yesterday’s storm. The rain had quickly become his favourite scent, and Jungkook took a deep breath as it lingered in the air. It was laced with faint traces of wet grass, and there was something else, too. Something woody, yet light, with heavy undertones of you.

He and Minjun settled in the shade outside of the hotel. Jungkook lit his cigarette, then passed his lighter to his friend and looked around.

The garden behind him was impressive. He hadn’t noticed the peonies before, but as soon as he did, he remembered bringing bright pink and gently lilac bouquets for you before your dates. You didn’t have a favourite flower, but he’d discovered that peonies lasted the longest in your dorm room, so he continued to get them for you.

He realised with a sigh that having Minjun here wasn’t much of a distraction, not even when he brought up Sid. Everywhere he looked this morning, he still thought of you.

“Oh, shit!” Jungkook cried suddenly, pushing his cigarette to the corner of his mouth as he spoke. His exclaim distracted the two of them from an anxious discussion about all that had to happen today. “Look.”

Minjun looked at him first, then followed his gaze to the street, where a Volkswagen Beetle was driving by at an extraordinarily slow pace. He wasn’t sure if Jungkook was amused by the car model or its speed.

“Hmm?” he asked. “At the car?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “It’s the exact colour of her eyes.”

“Her eye—Jesus Christ,” Minjun groaned, nearly choking on the smoke of his cigarette. “Do you see what I’m doing right now?”

Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from the car as it inched closer to the intersection at the end of the street. “No offence, man, but I really couldn’t care le—”

“I am cringing,” Minjun informed him anyway. “You made me cringe.”

Jungkook continued to watch the Beetle with an alien fascination that Minjun could not understand. He thought that Jungkook looked as if he was reliving some sort of a dream, with this wistful, melancholy smile on his face—or he was stuck in an unfathomable, endless déjà vu.

“I’m serious, though,” Jungkook said after a moment, a deep exhilaration in his voice. “The exact colour.”

Minjun shook his head, half disbelieving, half resigned. He was not a doctor, and he would never claim to have any medical knowledge, but even his amateur eye could recognise lovesickness when he saw it.

“You are so fu—” he started to say, but did not get to the end of this diagnosis that, in his humble opinion, would have perfectly described the state that his friend was in right now.

Jungkook blew out the smoke with a heavy—and violent, too—groan, and it cut Minjun off. “I love her so much.”

“We know!” Minjun said, exasperated. His teeth dug into the filter of his cigarette. “We can tell. All of us. Now if you try to tell me that that cloud over there, above the hotel, kind of looks like her, I swear to God.”

“Please.” Jungkook scoffed but still glanced at the sky. “Clouds don’t look like—oh, you know what, maybe that one over there kind of does. When she wears her hair up, and—”

“I am going to slap you,” Minjun interjected, “if you don’t get yourself together right this second.”

The Beetle had finally turned on the left turn signal as it reached the end of the road next to the two of them. Jungkook lowered his eyes and smiled at the vehicle again.

“I’ve never felt more together,” he said, smoke passing through his lips.

“And I’ve never felt more like a third wheel,” Minjun retorted. “And it’s only you and me here.”

Jungkook grinned dreamily, following the car with his gaze.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Minjun asked.

“Not really.”

He sighed and turned away. “Hmm. Of course not.”

The Beetle finally disappeared down the street and out of their sight. And now, with no new reminders of you in his immediate vicinity, Jungkook realised that he missed you too much to merely stand here, and that the company he had did not matter as long as it wasn’t you. He finished his cigarette in two quick drags and pulled out his phone.

Minjun knew exactly who he was texting without having to ask. And he certainly did not have to ask who had texted him back when his phone lit up not even ten seconds later.

You and Jungkook were both terrible—almost unbearable at this point, really—and Minjun was very glad that you had found your way back to each other. He didn’t think the world could have handled more of the two of you alone.

When you arrived at the venue a few hours later to see Jimin before the band’s soundcheck, you ran into the members of the band outside. They’d gone out after their rehearsal and ended up right in the middle of a commotion outside the building.

The sight surprised you: crowds of people had gathered around the venue, chatting, waving and jumping as soon as they spotted the band. Although this was Rated Riot’s second show in London, it seemed as though twice as many people were queuing outside today.

You kept your distance but stayed to watch the beaming members stop occasionally for an autograph, a selfie, or a quick conversation as they made their way past their fans. You remained vigilant in case anyone in the crowd decided to cause trouble, although it didn’t seem likely. Everyone was just excited.

Just then, right before you got lost in the thrilled faces around you, you heard Jungkook gasp somewhere in the crowd.

Alarmed, you turned around to find him and caught Hoseok’s shocked expression over the back of Jungkook’s head. Someone had unexpectedly wrapped their arms around the vocalist in a very intense hug, taking him off guard. But Jungkook’s surprise quickly turned into appreciative laughter as he patted the person on the back and stepped away, nodding at something they were saying.

Their interaction seemed harmless, but a crowd began to gather around Jungkook and Hoseok, and you were worried about the people pushing each other. You reached for your phone in your jacket to call Mick and alert the security just to be safe, but paused when you overheard the conversation the boys were having with their fans.

“And good riddance!” someone was saying. “We saw that you guys banned Sid from your shows. We’re so glad you’re finally free.”

Excited shrieks of agreement rippled through the crowd. Jungkook turned his head to look at you, leaving Hoseok to handle the fans’ praise on his own while Yoongi and Taehyung signed autographs nearby. When you met Jungkook’s eye, the surprise on his face mirrored yours.

Maggie’s post had made the precise impact you’d hoped for; everyone had seen the blacklist.

We’re so glad you’re finally free.

It occurred to you that neither you, nor Jungkook, nor any of your friends had ever been truly alone with your hatred for Sid, because Sid hadn’t just messed with your lives. He’d messed with absolutely everyone around you. You assumed as much—he was insufferable—but hearing others reaffirm just how much they despised Sid still felt comforting. It felt energising, too.

You’d be finished with him today, finally.

Feeling reinvigorated, you informed Mick to keep an eye on the crowds and headed inside. Jimin had needed your help, but by the time you arrived, he’d already resolved the problem himself. He shuffled you out of the door instead, to fetch him some coffee for “being late to rescue me from the agony of toggling the amps on and off.”

Laughing, you walked back out, making a note to grab a few chocolate-chip cupcakes, too—for Seokjin, because he had looked dangerously pale and wide-eyed when you ran into him at the door as Jimin yelled out his coffee order at you.

You didn’t expect to see Jungkook until the end of his show later that night, and you felt another wondrous thrill in your stomach at the thought: this would all be over by then. You could finally stop dreading what awaited you next. Really, even your upcoming meeting with the lawyers from the label seemed like a walk in the park on a late spring afternoon compared to Sid. You almost couldn’t wait for it.

But then as soon as the band finished their soundcheck, Jungkook surprised you by sneaking into the dressing room where you were working on emails, your forgotten coffee already cold. He stood there, in the very middle of the room, grinning at you until you finally raised your head.

“Oh—shit,” you removed your earpods, “w-why are you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. A few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead; he looked as though he’d already performed the first half of the show instead of merely preparing for it.

“Wanted to check in,” he said. “You ready?”

He was asking about Sid, and you placed your laptop on the side table by the couch, making room for him next to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “Still got a few hours to go. Jude hasn’t called us yet, but we’re—we’ll be fine.”

Jungkook sat down next to you. He couldn’t remember the details well, but he assumed that Minjun and Jude had already left for their part of the plan. Now he was nervous to hear that their plan hadn’t even begun yet; what if Jude had a change of heart?

“Yeah?” he asked, despising how many tinges of uncertainty he heard in his own voice. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at the door before turning back to him. “Uh, listen, are you sure you can be here? You have an interview in ten minutes.”

He reclined on the couch and shrugged again.

“Well, I still have ten minutes,” he said. “The guys are busy with their instruments, but I’m good.”

You nodded, and the conversation came to an awkward halt. You wanted to steer the discussion away from Sid, but he was the elephant in the room and he had grown large enough to smother you.

“I’m, uh—I’m thinking,” Jungkook said after a minute, “what if the plan doesn’t work? I know we said we’d do something else, but—I mean, what if the police don’t arrive in time, and Sid senses the trap?”

You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because there was nothing else you could do to get rid of Sid in the immediate future. If he realised that something was wrong tonight, he’d never lower his guard like this again.

“I—well, I have a Plan B,” you said.

Jungkook was surprised. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You turned away. Really, you did not have any backup plans. You just wanted to stop Jungkook from biting into his lip ring before he ripped it off.

“Remember how we talked about you visiting me in jail?” you said, keeping a straight face. “I’ll just—”

He groaned. “You’re not going to kill Sid.”

“Why not?” you moaned and your exaggerated tone finally elicited a chuckle from him.

“Because I need you with me,” he said.

“Maybe we can make it seem like someone else did it,” you continued, encouraged by the amusement in his eyes. “Is there anyone else you hate as much as him?”

He shook his head. “No one comes even close.”

“Hmm.” You nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe if I just beat him up really bad, but don’t actually kill him, they won’t lock me up for long?”

He was grinning. “You’re not beating him up.”

“I’d be willing to do it for the band, you know.”

“Oh, for the band,” he echoed, draping an arm over the cushion behind you. “Romantic. Makes me feel real special.”

He seemed much more relaxed now than when he first came here, and your heart remembered how to beat again at the sight of his smile.

“Look,” you said, raising your hands, “I even wore extra rings today, for a more long-lasting effect.”

He snorted as you showed him the jewellery on your fingers, and placed his hand on yours, bringing it down to your knee.

“You’re not beating him up,” he reiterated.

“Come on,” you pressed on as he locked his fingers with yours. “You knocked out his tooth, so I have to do something similar. Otherwise, it’s just embarrassing. The girls will never let me live this down if I don’t land one good punch.”

Jungkook started to chuckle—the image of your sharp skull-shaped ring leaving a mark on Sid’s cheek was very satisfying—but then your words sunk in, and his expression soured.

“Wait,” he said, leaning forward and furrowing his brows, “the girls are in on this?”

You frowned in response to his frown.

“Of course, they are,” you replied. “Why are you surprised?”

“I mean,” he looked away, assessing your friends in his mind, “I’m not surprised about Maggie. But isn’t Luna usually more practical in these situations?”

“She’s practical until she’s had enough,” you said. “And she’s had enough.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back and looking down at your intertwined hands.

He appeared to be considering something as his thumb gently traced the side of your index finger, and you got a frightening thought that you could take down a lot more assholes than just Sid—you could even tie them up and keep them in some mouldy basement—if it meant that Jungkook could sit next to you, humming peacefully under his breath as he held your hand in his.

It dawned on you just then that he wasn’t just your weakness, he was your everything. And you loved him so much that it was dangerous.

“Well,” he finally said, “if I have Taehyung and Rue with me, it might be more fun to visit the three of you in prison. We could make a little road trip out of it.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you did, and he realised that he really only had very few worries left—and none of them were about Sid.

“That’s the spirit!” you said. “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”

He released your hand, so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his chest.

“No, you won’t,” he said, planting a kiss on your temple. His heart stuttered through a few clumsy beats when you leaned into him again, resting your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, and he realised he was wrong before. The Beetle outside the hotel wasn’t the exact colour of your eyes, not really. But his heart was; it soaked up the shades of your touch and painted itself after you.

“I love you,” you said. “But you have to go back to your band.”

He ignored that and leaned in to touch your lips with his. The quick kiss unexpectedly turned deeper—really, he had no say in that, his impulse control lived a life of its own lately—when he moved his head and tasted the caramel from your coffee on your tongue.

You knew you were on a tight schedule, but you found yourself giving in to him for just a moment. You brought one of your hands to the side of his face, and you felt, right away, what your touch did to him. Jungkook shifted on the couch to reach you better, his kisses growing more urgent, more eager, more impossible and even impractical—and that wasn’t fair, because, with his mouth against yours, there was nothing more meaningful than this in the world.

You pulled back, breathless, but with a smile that imprinted itself right in his mind, and Jungkook nodded, understanding the look in your eyes.

“Right,” he murmured, standing up before he lost his resolve. “I have places to be. Things to do. Would help a lot if I knew what places and what things those were, but, uh—I’ll figure it out.”

Your laughter was light and absolutely captivating. “Maybe your band can help with that?”

“Right,” he said. “My band.”

He lingered, scanning the walls and appearing lost in thought, and your chest was so full from simply being in the same room with him that you couldn’t tell him to go again. Slowly, you stood from the couch and your movement snapped him back to reality. He turned to face you and swallowed before speaking.

“Come find me as soon as the police leave with Sid’s ass,” he said.

“If our plan works, you’ll be in the middle of the encore,” you reminded him.

“You don’t have to jump on the stage,” he said. “Just give me a signal or something.”

“What kind of a signal?”

Your question wasn’t entirely serious, but Jungkook took it very seriously.

“A massive banner,” he decided, “saying ‘we’re free.’”

The image of the fans outside the venue crossed your mind again, and you felt yourself smile. You were certain they would have appreciated the banner as well.

“Hmm. Not very classy, though,” you said.

“When was I ever classy?” he countered. He looked about ready to demonstrate his lack of refinement, and you cut in before he could give any examples to support his claim.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll just come to the side of the stage and give you a nod, yeah? Then you’ll know we did it.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder as you spoke, and, naturally, he agreed with everything you said.

“Okay,” he replied. “That’s good enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Just be careful,” he added, and you noted with disappointment that his casual demeanour had returned to a more serious tone. “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You already missed the ease in his voice, and it made you regret that the two of you were in a situation where you could only speak lightly at short intervals before inevitably returning to what awaited you. You could not wait to never bring up Sid again.

“I won’t,” you said. “That spot’s reserved for you.”

His face immediately brightened, and you found yourself mirroring his expression. He stepped closer to you, the shimmering in his eyes fervent enough to send sparks to your chest.

“Hmm.” He reached out to run his fingers over the edge of your jaw. “What other spot is reserved for me?”

You scowled but did not pull away from his touch. “I’ll consider answering that when you sound less like a frat boy.”

He grinned, not the least bit discouraged. “Keeping me on my toes. I like that.”

“You have to go,” you replied, suppressing your smile so as not to encourage him. “The rest of the band is about to start their interview. Yoongi will have your head.”

“Kiss me and I’ll go,” he replied, his voice softer now that his face was so close to yours.

“Oh,” you snickered despite yourself, “we’re not doing that again.”

“We won’t have to if you kiss me.”

You shook your head and gave him a warning look—but then you closed the distance between you anyway. You’ve learnt your lesson from the last time at the park, and there was no point in arguing anyway; it was just you and him here, and you were rapidly running out of time.

Your lips were overwhelmingly soft and he relaxed into your touch in a way that he only could if you were as close to him as you were now. But you pulled back all too soon.

“Go now,” you whispered—not meaning it at all. You tried again, but your words had even less conviction this time, “go.”

He heard you but refused to pull away, his lips finding yours for just one more kiss.

“I’m going,” he murmured, turning every syllable into a slow, gentle caress. “Good luck.”

“You, too,” you replied, slowly pulling back and stopping his heart for a split-second when you reached over to move a strand of his hair from his face. “We’ll be okay.”

Jungkook nodded and stepped back reluctantly. As he made his way towards the door, some unseen force suddenly tugged at his arm, and he stopped. Pivoting on his heel, he returned to you to press another quick kiss to your amused lips—the last last one—before finally tearing himself away from you.

Closing the door of the dressing room behind himself, he abruptly remembered an ancient legend that his grandmother had told him—about Orpheus and Eurydice. And he knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that if he had to walk away from you without looking back so that the two of you could live, you would both perish.

He would always turn back to look at you one last time.

Rated Riot proceeded with their scheduled interviews in the waiting area backstage, leaving you to find another quiet corner, away from the intriguing “most likely to…” discussion that the boys were having right now (just as you walked past them, Taehyung and Jungkook broke into a sudden arm-wrestling competition for reasons that eluded you and the journalist, both).

With about an hour remaining until the doors opened, you managed to email back about half of the people in your inbox. That was how Minjun found you: rocking gently back and forth on the couch at the end of the dimly lit corridor, your laptop balanced on your knees.

“Jude’s here,” he announced, and you felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu before you looked up.

He’s said these exact words to you before. But he seemed far more composed this time, and it soothed your anxiety as you closed your laptop and set it aside.

“Yeah?” you asked, not quite ready to get up just yet.

“Mhmm,” Minjun confirmed. “He said that Sid’s passed out right now, he was out the whole night. Jude’s done everything we asked, and he brought Sid’s phone here with him for us to double-check. I’ve already looked through it, everything’s gone. He, um—he still wants to see you, though.”

“Oh.” You did not like that Sid’s phone was here, and your discomfort finally pushed you to stand up. “That was—that’s good. But what if Sid wakes up while Jude’s here?”

“I know,” Minjun agreed, glancing at his phone to check the time as if he had a timer set for how long Sid would stay asleep. “We have to be quick.”

With a silent nod, you followed Minjun as he led you to an empty dressing room, much larger than the broom closet where he had put Jude last time.

Jude greeted you with an awkward “hi” as soon as he saw you. His voice sounded even smaller in the big room. He looked small, too, but brighter now, more vibrant.

It was his eyes, you realised. He seemed excited.

“Hey,” you replied and noticed quickly that your voice was small, too. “H-how are you feeling?”

Jude’s expression suddenly shifted to one of deep thought. You took note of his trembling hands when he lifted Sid’s phone.

“Nervous,” he admitted. “I brought this for you to see for yourself.”

He extended the phone towards you. You trusted Minjun when he said he’d checked it, but Jude seemed to be seeking your approval as well. You took the device from him, and he informed you that the passcode was “six sixes,” which you found very fitting for the devil incarnate.

You unlocked it, then tapped on the gallery and scrolled through the standard, abstract art images pre-installed on every phone. The generic bright colours were all you found here.

Feeling your heart rate increase already, you opened his Cloud storage. It greeted you with a message that, at this point, could have easily become the title of Rated Riot’s next album: “iCloud Drive is Empty.”

“Okay, that—uh, w-we’re nervous, too, by the way,” you said, your thoughts jumbled as you handed the phone back to Jude. Minjun’s smile widened when your eyes flickered to his; your plan was going smoothly so far. “This is—you did a great job, Jude.”

Jude’s face nearly began to glow. You shrank back, finding his beaming expression discomfiting. It did not look unnatural per se; it just looked misplaced—like someone else’s smile got lost and took temporary shelter on his face.

“I, uh,” he fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, “I also grabbed this.”

He pulled out a set of keys, and you only needed half of a glance to know that they belonged to Jungkook’s Katana. You turned to Minjun again, but he shook his head. Jude hadn’t told him about this.

“Sid had them in his jacket,” Jude explained. “Could you give them to Jungkook?”

You hesitated for another minute before you took the keys from him. And you remembered, suddenly, the first time you’d seen Jungkook with his bike: you were already working together at that point, and he’d arrived on it for a meeting at the company.

He had treated the bike with such care as he showed it to you and the band at the end of the day, almost as if it were a part of him, and Yoongi had pointed out how typical this was. How men—not Yoongi, though, he insisted—constantly grew too attached to their bikes, how they cherished them more than significant others. So, you had jokingly asked Jungkook if the Katana was the love of his life, too. And he’d responded, without missing a single beat, that it wasn’t. That you were.

He’d said it with a smug grin, so, of course, you assumed he was just teasing—because, in your defence, he often was—and you rolled your eyes and didn’t think much of it. But now, holding the keys to his bike that he’d given up, you accepted, finally, that he’d meant it, even back then.

“You did—you didn’t have to get them,” you told Jude, surprised to find yourself breathless.

“I wanted to,” he said. “We’re getting back at Sid.”

You exchanged another glance with Minjun. The two of you had worried that Jude would change his mind once he saw Sid again, but you’d clearly underestimated his desire to finally break free.

“That’s right,” Minjun said. “We are. You’ll, uh—you’ll have to go back to the hotel. Take his phone back to him.”

“I know,” Jude replied, slipping back into his role of a follower. “And then?”

Minjun looked at you, indicating for you to continue. You bit your lip, searching for the right tone to say this. You knew you were putting Jude in a direct line of fire, and you felt a little guilty because you weren’t sure if he even realised it.

“Wait until I call Sid,” you said. You put the keys in your pocket and crossed your arms. “And, I guess, after Sid leaves, let Minjun into his suite. I assume you have the key?” Jude nodded; Sid was passed out, he had no problem grabbing his room key along with his phone. “Minjun will do the rest, but you can—you could help him. We’d appreciate that.”

Jude appeared delighted. He craved appreciation, and you could tell that he received it very rarely.

“I’ll help,” he decided.

For a minute, it seemed like your conversation had ended. But Jude swayed lightly on his feet and played with his fingers, evidently gathering strength for something more.

“By the way,” he finally said, “um, there are cameras in the hotel.”

A quick new surge of anxiety washed over you, and you turned to Minjun, who looked about as stunned as you felt.

“I thought—I thought it was an old hotel,” you said, not quite accusingly but not very gently, either. Your shock prevented you from softening your voice. “Like ours. Ours doesn’t—it doesn’t even have elevators. It barely has bathrooms.”

Minjun felt guilty. He was the one who had assured you not to worry about the cameras. He knew that Sid preferred his accommodation to lack modern inventions—it helped him evade security when he brought questionable companions and dangerous refreshments to his hotel room every other night.

“I thought that’s the sort of place Sid would choose,” Minjun explained apologetically. “He doesn’t like cameras, for understandable reasons.”

“Well, th-they have cameras in the lobby,” Jude said. “And in the corridors. I noticed them when I was coming over here. I don—I don’t know what you wanted to do in Sid’s room, but it—there are cameras at all entrances. Sorry.”

The cameras were obviously not his fault, but you could see how flustered he became to have delivered the news that brought the dark clouds to this room.

“It’s—fuck, it’s not good,” you said, grateful that Jude had gained an impressive awareness of his surroundings seemingly overnight, but still anxious, nonetheless.

Your initial idea was to get Sid arrested and hope that the police would get to his hotel suite eventually. But then Minjun convinced you that he needed to check Sid’s room in advance, and it turned into an important part of your plan.

He insisted that Sid might have hidden the drugs, and he wanted to make them more noticeable for the police to find—in case Sid would bribe the officers, and they didn’t feel like searching through the whole room. Minjun figured that if the police saw questionable white powder as soon as they opened the door, easily visible to any curious onlooker, they couldn’t easily clear Sid of this.

You weren’t sure if Minjun’s idea would be considered tampering with evidence, because the evidence was, technically, already there, but you were uncomfortable with it regardless. Minjun didn’t want to ask Jude to do this, because you didn’t yet know if you could fully trust him. But you didn’t want Minjun to do this, either, so naturally, the two of you had argued about this vehemently.

You felt like having another argument with him right this second.

“Minjun, uh,” you said, “could I speak to you outside for a moment? Jude, would you excuse us?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jude replied easily. You did not want to leave him here instead of sending him back to Sid to return his phone, but you had no other choice—Minjun was already looking for a way around the hotel cameras.

He followed you out of the room, a little puzzled. You stopped at the very end of the corridor, in front of a dusty floor-to-ceiling window, and looked around to make sure you were here alone. People were talking inside nearby rooms, so you leaned closer and lowered your voice when you spoke.

“Alright,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip, “I don’t think you should go to Sid’s hotel. I think we should let Jude handle it.”

“What?” Minjun replied, clearly frazzled. “I thought we were involving him as little as possible.”

“We were,” you said. “But if we don’t involve him right now, then we have to involve you, and—”

“But I said I’ll do it,” he retorted, his whispers wild. “I said I’ll go to his room and check. That was the pl—”

“Right,” you cut him off. “But we didn’t know there’d be cameras. It’s a small hotel. Even if no one notices you there, they might notice you in the footage.”

Minjun’s solution to this was so quick that it made you wonder if he had thought of this several days in advance.

“Sid’s room is on the third floor,” he said. “I reckon I could climb up there from the second-floor balcony.”

“And how would you reach the second-floor balcony?” you shot back equally as quickly. “You’d have to cross the lobby to enter the hotel either way.”

He thought about it for a second longer and came up with what he personally thought was another great idea. “Maybe there are rain pipes?”

You gave him a long look.

“Minjun,” you said. “You’re not Spiderman.”

He groaned and stepped back to lean against the wall. “Fuck, I’m just—”

“Come on, Minjun,” you urged, growing desperate. “It’s not worth the risk. We have to ask Jude to do this for us. He’s staying at the same hotel anyway. It makes sense for him to be there.”

He turned to look out the window. He didn’t like this. He wanted to be sure. He wanted Sid to get burnt, not merely grazed. And, he supposed, he wanted to be the one who set him on fire.

But, logically, Minjun knew that the only reason he would have to go to that hotel, would be if you still couldn’t trust Jude.

Jude had just brought you Sid’s phone to show you that he’d done all that you’d asked. He brought Jungkook’s keys, too. He told you about the cameras. He was on your side.

Minjun exhaled. It didn’t make sense for him to go there.

“Fine,” he said. “Alright. Fine. Let’s—tell Jude to spread Sid’s shit around after Sid leaves to see you.”

Your heart rate picked up, but you tried to subdue your relief. You still had a long day ahead of you.

“Yes,” you said, turning around. “Okay. Let’s—let’s go back.”

The two of you returned to the dressing room where Jude was still waiting in the same exact spot where you’d left him. He had seemingly occupied himself with watching the walls while you were gone, but the creaking of the door returned his attention to you.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, uh—just a quick change of plans,” you said, while despondent Minjun closed the door behind you. “We’re, um... going to ask you to do something else for us.”

Jude straightened and nodded. He looked this close, you thought, to giving you a military salute.

“Anything,” he said.

You glanced at Minjun before continuing. You knew he wasn’t pleased with this change of plans, so you appreciated the reassurance in his eyes even more. He may have been unhappy, but he was on your side.

“After I call Sid, and he leaves,” you said, turning back to Jude, “do you think it’d be possible for you to enter Sid’s room without being noticed by the cameras?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Our suites are at the end of the corridor, bit of a blind spot. The camera faces the staircase.”

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Then go to his room as soon as he leaves, and make sure that—”

“The rest of his chalk?” Jude cut in. “I should bring it out of his suitcases, right?”

Minjun turned to you, his eyebrows raised. Jude had never been quick, for as long as Minjun had known him, but his dedication to getting rid of Sid was remarkable. He seemed to have figured out the details of your plan on his own.

Minjun gestured for you to proceed. You’ve decided to trust Jude and there was no way back now.

“Yes,” you said. “It—that’s exactly what you should do. Make sure it’s in plain sight. Not necessarily all of it, just a bag or two—or whatever he keeps it in—so the officers would see it right away. We’re sure Sid will use any means necessary to make the police think we’re framing him, so they might be neglectful. You would help ensure that they do a thorough search of his suite. You’d show them that he’s guilty.”

Jude’s eyes glittered. Minjun was very impressed by your ability to choose the precise words that Jude wanted to hear.

“But don’t touch the bags directly,” he added, and Jude redirected his attention to his friend. “Wear gloves or use a plastic bag to pick them up and throw them around the room.”

You nodded, agreeing, and Jude reflexively nodded, too.

“Okay,” he said, ever as obedient. “I’ll do that.”

“And are we sure that Sid will bring some of his stuff with him here?” you asked, glancing at them both. It would be disastrous if the one time Sid decided to leave his drugs at home would be today.

Minjun was the one to answer you.

“Yeah, he carries his shit with him everywhere,” he said. “If not in his jacket, then in his jeans. He’ll have it.”

Jude raised his eyebrows with the same enthusiasm as before.

“I can check that, too,” he offered. “If he—if it’s in his jacket. If it’s easy to find.”

Minjun turned to you again. Right away, he recognised the distress on your face—not only were you relying on Jude for half of your plan, but you were also putting him at risk. You felt awful. Minjun did, too. But he hated Sid with enough passion to ignore his discomfort.

“Okay,” Minjun took over. “That sounds good. Check his jacket, too, if you get a chance.”

You turned your uneasy gaze back to Jude. You almost expected him to demand something in exchange for helping you, but he kept nodding his head, not saying anything.

He would do this for you because you asked him to. That was how Sid kept him around for so long: by giving orders that Jude felt compelled to follow.

“I’m—thank you, Jude,” you said. “You’re doing a great job. And we don’t want you to go through anything that Sid will have to go through, okay? So, be careful.”

Jude swallowed and nodded once more.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take his phone to him and wait for your call. After he leaves, I will check his hiding spots and bring his stash out. I’ll be careful.”

You shivered at the decisiveness of his tone. You knew that you weren’t playing a prank on Sid, you were actively conspiring against him—but hearing Jude repeat the details of your plan back to you made this feel much more significant. Much more real.

“Yes,” you said. “And leave immediately after, okay? Check out of the hotel.”

“I’ll come meet you a few blocks away,” Minjun inserted. “You can stay in my room at our hotel.”

Jude gave another nod of agreement. The anxiety rising in your stomach was starting to make it difficult for you to breathe.

“Jude,” you said, “you’re doing—you’re a great help to us. I know we’re all a team now, but still. We really appreciate it.”

Jude smiled, and this time, his smile did not look misplaced. It matched the light in his eyes, even if it wasn’t quite sure what it was doing on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. “We’re a team. I—I’m going to go now.”

“Good luck,” you said. “We’ll see you later.”

The moment the door closed and Jude’s quiet footsteps faded down the corridor, you crossed your arms and met Minjun’s exhausted sigh with a similar one of your own.

“Well,” Minjun began, “it looks like we’ll have to rely on Jude a lot more than we originally thought.”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I mean, he seems alright.”

He did seem alright. But Minjun felt an itch under his skin, and he couldn’t make it go away no matter how much he scratched and stretched.

“I still want to go in there,” he said, “and make sure we’re really good to go.”

This alarmed you; you thought you’d already decided to let Jude handle Sid’s suite.

“But—”

“No, listen,” he cut in, “Jude said Sid’s room is in a blind spot. So, how would anyone know which room I entered, even if they did see me in the lobby? Maybe I’m visiting someone else.”

“But why draw attention to yourself?” you argued. “Why make yourself look suspicious?”

Minjun felt ants crawling all over himself; he did not like your questions.

“I just want to be sure we’re good to go,” he repeated, turning away from you.

“We are good to go, Minjun,” you pleaded softly. “Let Jude do it.”

“And what if Sid hid it all,” he still insisted, “and Jude can’t find it?”

“Then you might not find it, either,” you replied. He clicked his tongue, discontented. “I just don’t want you to risk getting caught on the CCTVs there. Jude is staying in that hotel. It’d be easier for him to get to Sid’s room, it’s far less risky. It makes more sense. Let him do it.”

Minjun kept his gaze on the floor, his jaw clenched.

You knew that he wanted to finally stand up to Sid, and it wasn’t your place to intervene. But you were the one who suggested getting Sid arrested, and now you wanted to ensure everyone’s safety and limit their reckless decisions in this plan to as few as possible. Minjun walking past the cameras in the hotel and breaking into Sid’s room seemed reckless. It seemed reckless for Jude to do it, too, but on a lesser scale—this was a risk you hoped you could afford.

“Jude might touch the drugs, too,” Minjun mumbled after a minute. “I don’t know if he’ll realise not to, even if we told him to be careful.”

“Then we can call him and warn him again,” you said. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine. He—he only looks a little dumb, but he’s ready. He wants nothing else to do with Sid.”

Minjun stayed quiet, and you did not say anything, either, allowing him some time with his thoughts. He already knew how risky it would be for him to go to that hotel. He just needed a minute to push his own ego aside and focus on getting Sid arrested, even if that meant he had to stay back and just watch it happen.

“Alright,” he said after a minute. “Yeah, fine. I’ll stay here.”

A deep, resigned sigh followed his words, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean against the door of the room for just a minute.

“Okay, good,” you said. “We—we should be alright.”

You sounded as confident as you could under the circumstances, but Minjun sensed every nervous undertone in your voice.

“Yeah,” he said, twisting the silver band on his index finger. “We should be. You—the more you praised and thanked him, the more willing Jude became to do anything for us. Sid had never given him positive feedback in his life, and you’re giving it all to him in one day. So, I-I think you’re right. He’s on our side. He wants to do this, too. We will be fine.”

You nodded slowly. You hoped you were right because the rest of your plan relied on this.

You were right.

Later that same day, you would learn that Jude had done a spectacular job at improvising. You’d never considered him to be particularly bright until today—actually, that was putting it nicely—but he was Sid’s friend, so he had destructive behavioural patterns ingrained deeply in his brain. That worked in your favour.

Apparently, Jude got worried that Sid would sleep through Rated Riot’s set, and that would derail your plan. So, he made sure that Sid wouldn’t wake up if touched, and strategically dangled Sid’s hand over the edge of the bed. Then, planning his exit, he opened the window to create a draft with the door. Finally, he forcefully dropped Sid’s phone from across the room, and ran out before Sid registered the noise.

The screen of the phone cracked, startling Sid awake. Right away, he noticed his outstretched hand and his broken phone on the floor, and his thought process was very simple: he dropped his phone in his sleep and woke himself up. The window was open, so the wind must have rattled the door of his room at the same time, adding to the noise. That’s all there was to it—never mind that the damage to the phone was far too bad, given the distance from his hand to the floor, and there was no wind outside the window.

Jude’s improvisation proved excellent in another way, too: Sid thought the cracked screen was the reason his phone wouldn’t turn back on, and why it appeared empty once he plugged it in to charge. He thought he had broken it, and he was very unhappy about that.

Jude, meanwhile, was overjoyed. He sent you a text with an innocuous smiley face, and started to pack his belongings.

You received his text and proceeded with your part of the plan.

First, you had to borrow an old flip phone from one of the middle-aged roadies on tour because it was the only device that could fit your prepaid SIM card.

And then, as soon as Ivy started her opening set and Rated Riot gathered in their dressing room for final preparations ahead of their performance, you called Sid.

He answered on the first ring with a word that you did not understand. He didn’t sound sober.

“Sid?” you asked.

“Yeah?” he responded, the sound slightly distorted on the old phone. “Who is this?”

“It’s me,” you said, intentionally avoiding names. You hoped he’d recognise you because you doubted many women voluntarily called him. “Can you talk?”

It took Sid a minute to place your voice, and the line stayed quiet while you waited.

“What—what number are you calling me from?” he asked. That was good. His first reaction was not, ‘why are you calling me?’

“It’s my number,” you said. “Just—I made it private, so—I don’t want anyone to know I’m talking to you.”

The number obviously wasn’t yours, although Sid wouldn’t be able to tell. The prepaid SIM card was meant to ensure your anonymity in case the authorities checked his call history and traced the number back.

“Why?” Sid asked. He didn’t sound accusing or annoyed, merely confused.

“I have something I want to discuss with you,” you said before adding a deliberately half-panicked, half-angry whisper, “but listen, no one can know.”

Sid was obviously befuddled. A long “ahhh” preceded his response before he found actual words.

“What are—what do you want?” he asked, and then, to your horror, he softened his voice. “I mean, to discuss with me.”

You took a deep breath. You were grateful that he hadn’t hung up and instead continued to speak to you in this unbecoming, warm tone, but you still felt nauseous and had to clutch the flip phone to your ear to stay in the moment.

“I—I’ve been thinking a lot,” you began, following the script you had written on a piece of paper that you couldn’t wait to burn later. “Jungkook and I—it—it’s not good. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m—listen, I don’t want to talk to you about this over the phone. Jungkook can—well, you know, it’s a phone. I don’t know, maybe he tapped it or something.”

There was a minute of silence. You wondered if you’d overdone it, if your hesitation had not sounded natural.

“Jungkook tapped your phone?” Sid asked, sounding incredulous.

“He might have, I—he’s acting very irrationally, and I’m—honestly, I’m realising that I was wrong about you,” you said. You had to pause to close your eyes and calm your stomach. Sid took the silence to mean that you were gathering your strength, and you really were, just not in the way he thought. “Jungkook is—he’s acting crazy. Ever since you posted that picture on Instagram, he’s been controlling everything I do. I can’t—I can’t do this. So, I’m—look, I need your help. I think you’re the only one who can help me get out of here. Can you meet me?”

You held your breath, expecting to wait while Sid considered your request—but he did no such thing.

His response was immediate. “Where?”

The second you heard the question, you knew that Minjun had been right. Sid would come here to see you—but not because you’d asked. He was going to come here purely out of spite for Jungkook.

“Are you in London?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“I’m at The Academy,” you said. “Can you come?”

“I’m not allowed,” he reminded you—exactly like you expected him to. “Jungkook blacklisted me.”

“I’ll talk to security,” you said. “They’ll let you through.”

He fell silent again, and you knew he had a lot to wrap his head around, yet you still worried that you might have been too forceful. But you shouldn’t have doubted this. You’d mentioned Jungkook, and Sid was deaf to everything else.

“Wh—can you just—why do you need me to come there?” he asked, sounding curious, even lazy, but not suspicious.

You supposed the text messages you’d sent him in advance had also helped, like you hoped they would. Now, your desperation to see him seemed more believable.

“I need your help, and I can’t leave the venue,” you explained. “I’m the—you know my job is to stay here. People will notice if I leave. They’ll know something is up. I need—I need you here.” You paused when you heard Sid’s garbled inhale on the other end. Loathing every moment of this, you swallowed, and continued, “Rated Riot are about to start their setlist, so no one will even know you’re here. Please? I—I really need you.”

He did not seem to notice the way you choked on the last words, but he was silent for a very long time, and you began to second-guess yourself again. You couldn’t help it—this was so unrealistic.

You’d hated Sid for as long as you’ve known him. Surely, even if he believed you needed his help, and even if Jungkook was involved, he would laugh in your face and tell you to fucking deal with it on your own.

“Alright,” he said instead and you felt shivers run down your spine. Jungkook was that much of a sore spot for him. “Fine. Yeah. You’ll speak to security?”

“I—yeah, I promise,” you assured him—and you didn’t lie, technically. You had already talked to Mick. “Come straight to the dressing rooms, I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Alri—” Sid started to say, then stopped abruptly. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” you repeated. “I don’t want—no one can know, okay? It has to stay between you and me.”

“Alright. Shit,” he said, encouraged, as it seemed, by this ominous you-and-me. “I’m coming. Wait for me.”

“Okay,” you replied, trying to unclench your teeth. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ending the call, you exhaled and shook your hands vigorously as if that could help you recover from the conversation and stop shuddering.

You felt even more nervous now—if you struggled so much to talk to him over the phone, how would you handle him face-to-face?—but you couldn’t afford to lose your courage.

So many things had to fall into place for you to succeed—Jude needed to run into you in that club in London and Sid needed to leave him alone when he nearly overdosed—and it all felt frustratingly circumstantial. But all that was left now was up to you, and you’ve spent days planning this. You knew what you were doing.

You waited for Sid and paced in the room. Then, remembering suddenly, you pulled out Jungkook’s lighter from your jacket pocket—jangling the keys of his Katana as you did—and burnt the piece of paper with all that you’d written down before your call. The flames were delicate and shy. They disappeared into the air as soon as they finished the job, and not even the sprinklers on the ceiling picked them up.

It took Sid about fifteen more minutes to arrive, and he rounded the corner towards the waiting area while breathing heavily as though he’d run all the way here.

You pressed your palms into each other behind your back to keep your composure. He was wearing a thick North Face jacket, far too warm for this weather, and you wondered if Jude had managed to double-check what was inside.

“That was shit to get through,” Sid remarked once he saw you in the doorway of one of the empty dressing rooms. “Fucking Mick hates my guts.”

You’d warned Mick to be as rude as he possibly could when Sid got here, but you still didn’t like that Sid used his first name. Mick was the guardian angel of this tour; he was the quiet backbone of every concert. You wanted to punch Sid a little just for mentioning him so offhandedly.

“Yeah, he—he takes his job very seriously,” you said. “Thank you for coming here.”

Sid followed you into the dressing room and looked around. He hadn’t seen anyone other than Mick backstage—you made sure he wouldn’t—but he still seemed on edge.

“Are we cool to talk here?” he asked. “You’re not worried about Jungkook overhearing us?”

“No,” you said. “They’re about to go on stage. We’re good.”

It was easy to talk to him when you didn’t have to lie. And it was even easier when Sid asked all the wrong questions. If he had decided to point out that you hated him and asked why you’d changed your mind, you were sure you’d start stuttering again.

“Okay.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets while you stood across the room, your arms folded tightly over your chest. “Well, wha—why did you ask me to come?”

“I want to talk to you,” you replied. He could not discern the expression on your face or the tone of your voice.

“About what?” he asked.

“About us,” you said.

His eyebrows shot up and his mouth stretched downwards in an expression of comical surprise. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze flickered for a minute, drifting away, then returning to you again. He looked unsure of himself, and witnessing him in a similar state of disorientation as Jude had been when he was first here, was extremely entertaining. You almost wished you had a camera somewhere in the room.

“Okay,” Sid finally said, waiting for you to lead the conversation.

“What are you thinking right now?” you asked.

The question deepened his confusion. “Huh?”

“What did you think about just now,” you clarified, “when I said ‘us’?”

Sid frowned and did not reply. You could tell that he was very confused about your different mood, but he was already here, so you did not owe him any more false pleasantries. You just needed to keep him here a little longer: to get a proper reaction out of him in front of your scheduled witnesses, and to give Jude enough time to finish his part of the plan in Sid’s room and check out of the hotel.

“That’s fair,” you said in response to his silence. “You don’t have to answer.”

“I’m—why did you ask me to come?” he asked, glancing behind himself.

The room was hidden from the rest of the waiting area by an awkward corner wall, providing you with enough privacy to leave the door ajar, so it would make sense for Mick and Luna to find you here later, but it also wouldn’t make Sid uncomfortable. He seemed fairly content to leave the door open as he talked to you.

He was perplexed, however. You watched his beady, cockroach-like eyes dart between the window and the couch behind you. He wasn’t sure if he was being paranoid. He didn’t like that you did not look nearly as panicked and vulnerable as you’d sounded on the phone.

“You don’t have to look around,” you told him. “It’s just us here.”

He scoffed, not convinced. “I know it’s not.”

You felt a bubble of worry in the pit of your stomach, but you swallowed it and maintained eye contact. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You have security everywhere,” he replied.

“I told you I talked to them.”

You saw some of his armour loosen. He was still puzzled by your rigid posture, but now he seemed less inclined to flee.

“Right,” he said reluctantly. “You said you needed my help.”

“I did,” you confirmed. “Can you answer one question?”

He furrowed his brows again.

“Sure,” he said, but his response sounded like a question. He couldn’t guess what would happen next, and he was beside himself. You’ve never seen him fidget like this.

“Why did you come here?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been texting you the whole day yesterday,” you said. “You didn’t reply to me. Then, suddenly, you did. And now you’re here.”

You already knew why he texted you back when he did; Jungkook had provoked him. But you wanted to hear Sid’s logic. This had been bothering you ever since Jungkook told you about the videos Sid had sent him—the simple why.

Sid wanted to establish his superiority, you understood that much—but why was it so important to him? After all, Jungkook had never posed any serious threat to him until now.

This was not part of the plan, but you figured that since you had to keep Sid here for a while longer, you might as well make the most of the situation.

“Oh, yeah, no, my phone—it broke, the glass cracked, all my shit is deleted,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out how to access my Cloud. I forgot my password.”

“Oh,” you said. “So that’s why you didn’t reply?”

Sid shrugged. “Yeah.”

You narrowed your eyes before quickly adjusting your expression. You may have dropped certain parts of your act, but you were still the worried, confused, and very innocent damsel in evident distress. You weren’t interrogating him.

Sid seemed to read the expression on your face as precisely that.

“Don’t worry, I’m—I would have replied to you if my phone was okay,” he said and you had already predicted that he would say this very thing. It was a standard response for guys like him: I would have replied, but. I would have called, but. I really would have, but.

You cleared your throat and hoped very much that your face would appear relieved to hear this. “Really?”

“Of course,” Sid assured. He was soothed, seemingly, by the hopeful glint he thought he saw in your eyes.

“I just—I have another question,” you said. “Are you here to get back at Jungkook?”

You could have been more subtle, but you did not want to be. Sid wasn’t expecting the question anyway, and his confusion clouded his judgment.

“I’m—why do you think that?” he asked.

“You two hate each other,” you explained. “I thought that was why you came here. Just to get back at him.”

Despite your calm demeanour, you sounded unsure when you spoke, and that helped Sid feel more at ease. He believed you were insecure about his motives. He thought you wanted to hear that he’d come here for you, only you. Not Jungkook.

“Well, sure,” he said. “But—you’re—you know.”

“No,” you said. “Explain it to me. I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s, like—I mean—you said you needed my help,” he replied very concisely.

You sensed what he was trying to convey, and you enjoyed his struggle to find the words for it. It was pathetic, though. You could tell just by looking at him that the emotions he wanted to talk to you about weren’t genuine, yet he still couldn’t put them into words.

He wanted you to think he had feelings for you, so you’d drop your guard. So you’d stop asking questions and come to him, and Jungkook would lose you. But if there was anyone in this building that Sid genuinely had feelings for, it was himself.

“Well, yeah, but you—you posted that picture,” you said, feigning hurt. He’d wounded you and now you doubted his intentions—this way, he couldn’t doubt yours. “And you sent those videos, and—I thought you hated me, too. I didn’t think you’d agree to help me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”

Your overstimulated mind perked up. It finally started to feel like you were getting somewhere.

“It’s not?” you asked.

“Well, it’s a little about you,” he admitted. He chuckled here, too, and you felt a foreboding churning in your stomach even before he said anything else. “I mean, I liked you f-for a short while. Nothing serious. I think I even told you about it.”

“You did not tell me.”

As his awkward chuckling ceased, you caught your mask slipping and blinked a few times, trying to appear less threatening.

“Well, it didn’t last long, so it doesn’t even matter,” he added, glancing around the room.

“Mhmm.” You contemplated various ways to phrase yourself next, hoping that any way would work as long as your voice was quiet and unsure, maybe with an insecure chuckle at the end. “But why did you send those videos? What are you—what’s the reason?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “How can you ask me that? After thinking that Jungkook tapped your phone? I thought you realised what he’s really like.”

You looked down, needing a moment to recall all that you’ve told him so you could continue to play along.

“Oh, no, I mean—no, I know,” you said. “I see what he’s like, I’m just—I want to know what you were trying to do, and, uh, maybe we can help each other.”

Sid appeared pleasantly surprised to hear this, but his expression quickly morphed into one of his sly grins—the sort that was toxic if you were exposed to it for too long. “Oh, yeah?”

You swallowed; you thought you could already taste the poison on your tongue.

“Yeah,” you replied.

He exhaled and took a few steps deeper into the room, right past your side. You forced yourself to stand still as he approached the window, glanced outside, and then turned back to you.

“It’s my revenge,” he said.

“Revenge,” you repeated, internally cringing at his choice of words. “For what?”

“For you.”

You raised your eyebrows and clutched your arms around yourself tighter. This was what you were waiting to hear, but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

“For me?” you asked.

“And for his band,” Sid added.

You did not reply, too worried about the turmoil you felt inside. The stirring in your stomach had suddenly intensified—as if the outer lining of your organs had begun to peel off like old paint does when it comes in contact with something acidic. You were starting to discover that Sid was toxic to be around in more ways than one.

“He’s got—he thinks he’s the shit now that he’s famous,” he continued. “Now that he’s back with you. He needs to be taken down a notch. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” you asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. Taking someone “down a notch” seemed to be a regular activity for him.

“And you don’t think that’s a waste of time?” you asked. “I mean, I think we should just leave him be and… you know, move on with our lives.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” he declared. There was a newfound intensity in his eyes, an angry flame of sorts, and it made you realise just how lifeless his gaze had been otherwise. This was truly his purpose, you realised. If he wasn’t making others miserable, he wasn’t really living. “Somebody steps out of line, you need to put them back in their place. Or they won’t learn their lesson.”

You lowered your gaze before you could start shaking your head at his self-assured tone.

“But why does it matter if he learns his lesson or not?” you pushed. “If—if we’re leaving and won’t have to deal with him anymore?”

His lips spread in a dangerous, serpentine grin.

“We’re leaving?” he asked. He sounded thrilled and you wanted to knock his teeth in.

“Well, I would hope so,” you said. You also hoped that the twitching you felt in the corners of your eyes was phantom, and he could not see how much your body detested his presence.

Sid considered this for a second. You could see some sinister plan brewing in his mind.

“Alright. Yeah,” he finally said. “I like the idea of us going away. But it’s still unfair to leave debts unpaid, you know? This shit goes back years. He’s always tried to upstage me. Picture this: on my birthdays, I usually borrowed my dad’s yacht and got all my friends. And for the last few years, Jungkook was spending the whole night at the helm, handing everyone drinks like some Great fucking Gatsby in that book, fucking singing, and just trying to be the centre of attention. It’s my fucking birthday, and he’s acting like the star of the show.”

You had to pause to allow for several bits of new information to sink in. You were surprised, first of all, that Sid knew what a book was. You also learnt that he was so far up his own ass that he could not be accurate if he was gifted objectivity for Christmas.

You had heard a different version of this story from Jungkook. When he told you about these yacht parties, he had emphasised how new these experiences were for him, and how Sid was the one who’d made them possible. He’d used one of these parties as an example of the good moments in their friendship. You could sense awe and subtle gratitude in Jungkook’s words. No malice, no jealousy.

But Sid had evidently felt threatened. Yachts weren’t a luxury to him, they were a regular occurrence. And he felt intimidated by Jungkook’s unbridled joy because he cherished these experiences in a way that Sid never could.

“Oh,” you said after a moment. “I’ve never—I didn’t know about that.”

“Yeah,” Sid said with a childish sneer. “And don’t fucking get me started on what he was like when he was still with you. Never fucking shut up about having to see you. He thought he was some king of the fucking world, thought he was better than us. He tried to make us feel like losers because you chose him. And I knew things were shit for you two because he never told us about anything that you did together. But still, he fucking—his fucking head was the size of the moon. He really thought he was the shit. And then—get this. I said I wanted to be in a band. So, guess what he did?”

You were impressed by how offended Sid sounded as he complained about Jungkook not sharing the details of his relationship with his friends. And you were just as impressed by his perverse interpretations of how Jungkook’s relationship made him feel—he felt left out. He felt jealous and angry. He always had to have more than his friends and now, for the first time in his life, he didn’t.

And you remembered this dream about their own band, too – the conversation Jungkook said he’d had with Sid, Jude, and Minjun on the beach. How Sid wanted to be a bassist, how he owned all of Sex Pistols’ records. You’d thought they were joking until Jungkook brought this up again just the other night. And now you could tell how serious they were just by looking at the scowl on Sid’s face.

“Not to mention,” Sid continued, providing you with all the answers you sought, and looking very pleased as he did. To him, this must have felt like you were already agreeing with him. “Jungkook is the only one of my friends that my mum likes. I don’t know what it is about him. She fucking adores him. Like some stray fucking cat, I swear to fuck. And, of course, every time he’s at my house, he goes out of his way to kiss her ass, and she falls for it every single time. He should have been grateful I even invited him to see me, he should have been fucking kissing my ass, but instead, he was trying to appear like a little angel to her.”

This wasn’t something that Jungkook had mentioned to you before, and you were surprised. You only knew about Sid’s stone-cold mother from what Minjun had told you.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “What was he doing?”

However reluctant Sid might have seemed before, now he looked elated about the opportunity to elaborate.

“He brought her favourite chocolates whenever he came over, he polished her car when we were working on my granddad’s collection—and nobody even asked him to touch her car. He fucking sent her cards on her birthday,” he listed off, scoffing to himself. “And then I got shit for not congratulating her right away, even though I had something planned. For later. He was—he was setting some fucking standard that I had to live up to. And why the fuck should I? I’m her only son. Who the fuck is Jungkook to her? Fucking nobody. He’s a fucking wannabe, that’s what he is. He fucking acts like he fits in with us, but you can take one look at him to know that he never will. He’s nothing.”

You glanced at the window on your side. Sid got something exactly right; Jungkook really wanted to fit in.

He wanted Sid’s mother to approve of him like he wanted everyone to approve of him. He hoped that gaining her acceptance would make him feel more included in their inner circle. He would become Sid’s friend, not just someone Sid hung out with occasionally. They’d be as equal as they could be, given their vastly different backgrounds.

But Sid saw it all as a threat. And he was envious, too. He thought he had to compete with Jungkook for everything, even his mother’s affection. And he was understandably upset because he had the entitlement, the legacy, the money. He had a whole dynasty behind him. Jungkook had nothing.

For a very long time, Jungkook had been trying to come as close to Sid as he could, even though he knew he could never have what Sid had. And now, all of a sudden, Jungkook had so much more: he had the band, a promising career, a devoted fanbase, real friends. He had the girl, too.

And you realised that Sid didn’t want to merely demonstrate that he was better than Jungkook; that wasn’t it. He was obsessed with Jungkook—because he wanted to be Jungkook.

“So you thought those videos would put him in his place?” you asked. “You thought they’d teach him a lesson?”

“That was just for starters,” Sid said, grinning again. “I was going to make sure he lost you first, then the band. And I also have his bike. He would lose everything else on his own. Not that there’s much else to lose.”

You ran your fingers over your chin. You hadn’t had a chance to give Jungkook the keys to his Katana yet, and the weight of them in your pocket was quite pleasant.

“I see,” you said.

“So, what—will we do it?” Sid asked, blowing into his fist and rubbing his palms together. “I mean, he’s already lost you.”

You realised, quite unexpectedly, that you didn’t really want to punch him anymore. He was so deeply miserable already, purely of his own accord, that there was nothing you could do to make him feel worse about himself. You just wanted to get him out of here—preferably in the back of a police vehicle.

“How would—how do you think he’d lose the band?” you asked.

“I’ll post those videos I sent him,” he said easily. “Well, after my phone gets its shit together. His band will fear for their reputation, and they’ll get rid of him. Simple. And then every time he’ll try to sing, I’ll pull up something I have in my gallery. He’ll have to live the rest of his life quietly, without bothering anybody.”

You nodded along as you listened. You and your friends had suspected Sid would do this very thing. And now the thought of him trying very hard to get back at Jungkook after tonight, but failing every time, was very inspiring.

“What are you thinking?” he asked after you didn’t reply.

You looked up at him. “I, um—do you know what time it is?”

He glanced at the obnoxiously large, diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist. You doubted he could tell time that well, and Sid confirmed it when it took him a good fifteen seconds to calculate what each number on the mechanical watch stood for.

“Nine twenty-four,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason,” you replied. You’ve kept him here for almost half an hour at this point. That was as much time as you agreed on with Jude and Minjun; Jude had to have finished by now, ideally with some time to spare. “You came here from your hotel?”

“Yeah,” Sid said. “You want to go there?”

Finally, you allowed yourself a small smile. “I don’t think either of us will be going there.”

His eyebrows gathered into an uncertain frown. “Hmm?”

“I invited you here,” you said, “because I wanted to see you one last time.”

The previous confusion you’d seen in Sid’s eyes doubled. He did not make a move, but you saw him stiffen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and you were close enough to see his pupils shrinking.

You were the one to shrug casually this time. “I figured it’d be quite boring without you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied slowly, his gaze fixed on your face.

Your smile lacked any real sympathy, despite the pitiful click of your lips. “I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.”

“What?” he asked again. You watched him slide one of his hands into his jacket pocket. It must have been reflexive, he couldn’t have known that you knew what he carried there. But you were still glad. You were going to tell the police later that he kept reaching into his pocket anyway. At least now you wouldn’t have to lie.

“I’m just thinking, what else did you bring with you to London?” you asked. Jungkook told you not to beat Sid up, but he didn’t say anything about taunting him. “Something that you wouldn’t mind sharing with the police, maybe? We could have a little Show and Tell.”

You noticed his arm tighten inside his jacket sleeve; he must have clenched his fist in his pocket. “What—what the fuck are you saying?”

He had reverted to his usual manner of speaking, and you felt far more comfortable when he was foaming at the mouth instead of half-whispering just to maintain a seductive tone with you. His real face was slowly coming out. You could already see the fangs.

“Why do you look so alarmed?” you asked. “Did you bring something that you shouldn’t have brought with you, but figured, what’s the worst that can happen?”

His jaw was tight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He glared at you in a poor attempt at intimidation, and you heard the faint sound of footsteps in the corridor. You knew that Luna and Mick were right there, behind him. He was trapped.

“Is this why you called me here?” he questioned. You doubted he’d sensed the others, because he still looked fairly composed. “You’re trying to—trying to trick me into—into what? Admitting that I do drugs?”

“I’m not trying to trick you,” you countered. “I’m just having a conversation with you.”

He squinted at you. “You don’t need my help, do you?”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of the question; you knew he was slow, but this still surprised you.

“I did, actually,” you said. “And you’ve already helped me loads. Thanks.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, finally displaying some of the aggression you’d been anticipating. His hand flew out of his pocket but remained relatively close to the rest of his body. “Y-you—you think you’re going to bust me for drugs? You think this is my first time in a foreign country?”

Your smile was patient.

“You think this is my first time talking to you?” you returned. “You think I spent all these years dealing with your shit and learnt nothing?”

For a very heartwarming moment, Sid’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his forehead.

“The cops wouldn’t find anything,” he snarled, taking a step closer to you.

You shrugged and did not move. “Alright.”

“You’d be the one they question for wasting their time,” he continued, taking another step until he was a mere foot away from you.

“Fair.”

He leaned in closer, each of his words so self-assured that it was a wonder he hadn’t done a backflip yet to prove how absolutely incredible, how untouchable, how totally one-of-a-kind he was.

“You still think you have something on me?” he snarled.

You leaned back slightly to be able to meet his gaze without your vision blurring from the proximity and his awful smell. His cologne was not rich enough to hide the powerful stench of all that he’d consumed before he came here.

“Is this a threat?” you asked. Your tone was calm and you saw the way it made the veins in his neck bulge.

He scoffed. “How is that a threat?”

“I am feeling very threatened.”

“I’m not even touching you,” he retorted. He was a little nervous, you could tell. He thought he could pay his way out of any trouble, but he would still be inconvenienced if you called the police.

“Who’s going to believe you?” you countered. “You reek of liquor and weed.”

“Oh, so you’re going to frame me, is that it?” he asked, raising the pitch of his voice to mock you.

You figured he would think he was invincible until the very end, and you appreciated that his unwavering arrogance would become precisely what brought on his downfall.

“Framing implies I falsify charges,” you said.

He ran his tongue over his upper teeth. “Well, I never threatened you.”

“And I never lied to the police.”

Sid continued to stare at you without blinking. He hadn’t expected to find himself in this situation with you. He hadn’t expected you not to blink, either.

And it occurred to you, with him so close, that despite the act he put on, despite his perpetual sneer, he was truly incredibly insecure. This—standing right in your face—was the most he could do.

“Hmm. I see,” he said. You heard his jacket scrunch as he moved, but you did not look away from the slits in his pupils. “You have to understand, though, if I wanted to threaten you, I w—”

You noticed the movement of his arm out of the corner of your eye and slapped his hand away with the edge of your palm just as he reached to touch your cheek. Sid yelped and recoiled in surprise.

You had underestimated your strength when you were on so much adrenaline, and the dull slap echoed in the empty room. It took him a moment to understand what had happened.

“Fuck—y-you’re the one who just pushed me,” he said, looking at his hand as if you’d drawn blood. “And you’re the one who called me in here in the first pl—”

“Mick!” you called out, cutting him off.

Mick was standing right by the door and Sid did not get another chance to interject before the security guard popped his head inside. He looked at you, then at the increasing distance between you and Sid as Sid crossed the room away from you.

“Yeah?” the guard asked, stepping inside.

“Call 999 for me, would you, please?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Sid as he smirked to himself. “We have a trespasser here.”

“You fucking invited me,” Sid shot back, rolling his eyes. “You told them to let me in.”

“I did no such thing,” you said.

“Y—you fucking called me!” he continued, momentarily thrown off balance. “And you kept fucking texting me, and told me to—”

“I would never call you.”

The unshakeable tranquillity in your eyes as you lied right to his face made him livid. You hoped it would.

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. “I have it on my phone. The messages might be gone, but you called me—”

“Sid,” you said in a voice so indifferent that he stopped speaking and just glowered at you. “You are behaving very irrationally and posing a threat to me and your surroundings. Mick is legally allowed to restrain you until the police get here.”

Mick put his phone away and took a step closer to Sid. Sid took an instinctive step back, closer to you. He appeared so confused, so cornered, that not even his persistent scoffing—a coping mechanism, you started to realise—could help him retain his nonchalance.

“I’m behaving irrationally?” he questioned. “How the fuck am I—”

“Hey,” Luna called from the door. Your heart lifted at the sound of her voice, but faltered when you saw Minjun next to her. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “I heard yelling. Is everything alright?”

“I-I found a trespasser,” you explained. “I feel very threatened.”

“I understand,” she replied, her voice mechanical. Sid looked like he wanted to throw things, then break them when he noticed Minjun. “He is yelling at you and flailing his arms. I also feel threatened.”

Sid’s sardonic laughter gained more volume.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” he growled. “Did you all plot this together? Do you know who I am? This will never fly.”

“The police are on their way,” Mick told him. “You’re coming with me.”

You allowed him to take charge and moved towards Minjun and Luna; she immediately wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. The three of you watched Mick grab both of Sid’s hands and dodge a clumsy slap as Sid made feeble attempts to resist.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m going to do to you, Minjun!” Sid cried. “Your family is fucked. They’re so fucking fucked!”

You reached out to touch Minjun’s arm when you saw him swallow back his anger. He glanced at you, then at Luna, and nodded before turning back to Sid.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad for us, compared to where you’re going,” he replied calmly, forcing Sid to break into another fit of incomprehensible screeching.

Mick guided Sid towards the door, using his full weight to restrain him as Sid writhed in his grip. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the dressing room—where Sid fought violently to break out and cursed Minjun to hell and back several times—Mick pulled him into himself and half-carried him to the security room.

Sid yelled all the way down the corridor, ensuring that there were plenty of other witnesses to his outburst. The venue staff and your tour staff all heard his threats, they all saw him resist Mick’s hold. You couldn’t have planned it like this if you’d tried—and it was mostly due to Minjun showing up. Seeing someone that he considered a mere plaything stand up to him had clearly snapped something in Sid’s brain.

It took the police twenty minutes to arrive, and Sid had not closed his mouth once. You found that you quite enjoyed it; every scream from behind the door of the security room about how he was going to “fuck this place up” and “find every single one of you” and “kill you, you insufferable fucking bitch” sounded very melodious. Even Minjun loosened eventually, enjoying the moment he’d waited so long for.

Despite your efforts to keep the rest of your friends away from this scene, Maggie found her way to you just when the officers entered the venue. She was concerned about the screams she’d heard from across the building, but she was relieved to see you, Luna and Minjun chuckling outside the security room.

“Get it together,” she warned you with a grin. “The police are here. We want them to take us seriously.”

“Can we watch?” Minjun asked, nodding at the security room. One of the two officers had left the door open.

You moved closer instead of replying, and all four of you peered inside.

The space was cramped, but the scene inside the room was beautiful: Sid was on his knees, pressed against the wall, and he looked feral. His hair fell in aimless, overly gelled strands around his face, he snarled and barked at anyone who addressed him, and the younger officer appeared genuinely afraid to touch him for fear of getting his hand bitten off.

The other officer turned around in the meantime, noticing you. He approached, but Sid was yelling so much that the officer could not even ask you for a quick recap of what had happened before they got here. You understood what he wanted anyway, and leaned in to shout your explanation in his ear.

“He kept reaching into his pocket while talking to me,” you said, according to your plan. “I’m afraid he might be armed. We didn’t mention this on the phone so he wouldn’t hear us a-and decide to use it.”

There were no weapons, you were sure. You just needed the officers to check Sid’s pockets with intention, not merely graze over them.

The policeman gave you a nod and turned back to face Sid. The younger officer stepped back, seemingly relieved that he wouldn’t have to touch him.

“Stand up,” the senior officer ordered.

Mick let him go, and Sid jumped to his feet with such angry vigour that he collided with the metal table in the middle of the room. He cursed again and attempted to punch the table in irrational fury, hissing in pain the second that his knuckles connected with the surface.

“I am so happy,” Minjun whispered next to you when Sid leapt in the air in pain. “This is literally the highlight of my life.”

“Mine, too, I think,” Maggie agreed, snickering. “Wish I’d brought my camera.”

Biting back your own laughter, you shushed them so the policemen wouldn’t hear.

“Stop, stop,” the older officer was telling Sid. His voice sounded a little alarmed as Sid clutched his hand and spun around. “You’ll hurt yourself. Stand by that wall.”

Sid continued to mumble profanities under his breath, but he complied. The officer approached, gently kicked Sid’s shin to get him to spread his legs, and began to search through his thick jacket.

He meticulously patted down Sid’s shoulders, then his chest, until he pressed on something—the very something you and Minjun had hoped he would press on—and pulled back with a frown. A light bag, securely wrapped in cling film, tumbled out past the various zippers on Sid’s jacket and landed on the floor.

Across the room, Maggie gasped. Both officers jumped back as if a ticking bomb had fallen out of his pocket.

You noticed that Sid looked surprised, too. You glanced up at Minjun, and he gave you a solemn nod. He already knew that Jude had to rip Sid’s usual inner pocket to make sure the bag would fall out when poked with enough force.

The older officer was the first to react as he yelled at his younger colleague who quickly sprung into action and pressed Sid roughly into the wall, effectively restraining him again. The other officer then pulled out his receiver and spoke into it with such urgency that you almost began to feel uneasy, too.

“That—that’s not mine!” Sid protested despite struggling to speak with his face pressed against the wall. “I don’t know how that—it’s not mine, it—”

The young officer pushed him into the wall harder and said something to him, more assertive now that Sid’s rage was replaced with fear. You couldn’t hear what he said from where you were standing, but you could tell from the way Sid swallowed and quieted down that it was not a phrase of gentle encouragement.

“It’s not yours,” the older officer repeated as he pushed his receiver back into the case, “but it fell out of your jacket?”

“It’s—”

It took Sid two seconds to realise that he was in deep trouble—and another two seconds to make this much worse for himself.

“I was just taking it to a friend,” he said.

You could no longer suppress your smile.

The senior officer raised an eyebrow, then quickly lowered it. He refrained from asking further questions—although he certainly looked like he wanted to—knowing that it would only incriminate Sid more.

“You can tell us at the station,” the officer said, pulling out gloves and tweezers to pick up the small bag from the floor, careful, so the white powder inside wouldn’t spill out, “about whoever you were taking it to.”

Sid noticed the way the officer’s voice changed as soon as he mentioned this friend, and he realised what this must have sounded like.

“I—no. No,” he decided, his panic deepening. He knew that supplying was a much more serious offence than possession. “I wasn’t taking it to anyone. No one paid me. I’m not selling. I was just—”

“You’re going to the station,” the officer repeated. “You can tell us about your friend there.”

“I’m saying I—I lied!” Sid shouted. He sounded frantic, desperate, scared. It was perfectly musical. “It’s not—I wasn’t taking it to a friend. It’s for me! It’s mine.”

“Oh, this much?” Maggie called out.

You were startled by the abrupt sound of her voice. Sid was too, as he whipped his head around, forcing the officer cuffing his wrists to stagger on his feet and push Sid’s head back into the wall.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sid yelled, promptly interrupting the officer as he began to recite his rights to him. “I will fucking—I will kill you—I will fucking kill all of you, I swear—”

“Son,” the older officer interjected sternly, grabbing Sid’s arm from his younger colleague and dragging him towards the door of the room. Maggie pulled you and Luna aside to make room for them to walk past. Minjun stepped back, too. “I’d like to remind you that you are under arrest.”

“Fuck you,” Sid snarled, staring at Minjun.

He glared at him all the way down the corridor of the venue, straining his neck as the officers pushed him forwards, and you followed them outside. Just past the back exit, you and your friends stopped to watch—with immense pleasure—as they took Sid to their car.

“Jungkook will go down with me, you know!” Sid yelled, resisting their attempts to protect his head as they pushed him onto the backseat. “I’m his friend. He invited me!”

You saw his flaring nostrils from afar and you could tell how much he wished that Jungkook stood next to Minjun right now. How much he wanted to get one last reaction out of him, to threaten him with payback like he’d done to Minjun. And you were glad Jungkook wasn’t here to give Sid the satisfaction of being his punching bag one last time.

“Jungkook was the one who banned you from Rated Riot’s shows,” you reminded Sid as he kicked the seat in front of him. “That was why we had to call the police.”

“Your obsession with Jungkook is really unhealthy, by the way,” Minjun added. “Maybe you should work on that before someone realises how jealous you are. That’d be awkward.”

The older officer glared at Minjun, but there was a softness in his eyes that indicated he only meant to softly chastise him for this unnecessary addition.

“You fucking cu—” was going to be Sid’s last choral arrangement, but it was drowned out when the younger officer slammed the door shut.

The officer then walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, while his older colleague stayed back to talk to you. He told you that he would have taken you to the station as witnesses as well, but he understood how busy you were. When he bashfully admitted that his daughter was actually in the audience of Rated Riot’s show right now, you felt so high that you could have easily floated away.

He pulled out his notebook and returned the subject to Sid, asking you to be quick and concise. He said that things did not look good for Sid either way, but the procedure required him to get your statements.

Your account was very straightforward: Sid had forced his way into the venue, yelling and cursing, and demanded to see you and Jungkook (Luna’s statement confirmed this: “It was frightening,” she’d said, “I thought he was going to hurt someone.”). Then, you called security. Sid looked irrational, almost crazy, and he resisted all of your efforts to restrain him. He threatened everyone, it was so very awful—and not entirely false.

Then, Minjun recounted how he’d heard Sid’s shouts from the smoking area outside, and Maggie told him about hearing the same shouts from the bathroom across the venue.

In the meantime, you shifted your gaze to the police car. The officer inside was stuck listening to a lengthy barrage of Sid’s curses—“fucking pigs, all of you”—and introductions—“do you know who I fucking am?”—but he did not turn his head to acknowledge Sid’s hysteria. You wondered if they had any spare muzzles lying around in the trunk.

The officer emphasised to you that, after the scene Sid had caused, there was little he could do to escape punishment. And you knew that the discovery of illegal substances on his person provided strong grounds for obtaining a search warrant for his residence—where you knew he kept the rest of his supply that Jude had made sure to spread around the room.

And now even if Sid evaded possession-with-intent-to-supply charges, even if he hired expensive legal counsel, even if he tried to bribe the officers and their dogs, too – this was done.

Sid thought he was invincible, he had escaped consequences his whole life. But Jungkook was his biggest weakness, and he was the one who brought the consequences to Sid.

You were dizzy with delight.

Jungkook was so worried about your plan that it lingered in the back of his mind all through the band’s performance. But then he spotted you sometime at the end of the show, smiling at him with the stage lights reflected in your eyes, and he completely forgot what you’d just done. He was just happy you were here.

It was Maggie’s side-hug as she walked past you and seemingly stopped to ask if you were okay that reminded him. And when you looked up at him again, meeting his gaze and nodding, he knew.

Sid was gone. And you were here.

Jungkook came very close to jumping off the stage and kissing you. He would have done it, really, everything else be damned, but the song change kept him in place. Rated Riot did not have many ballads—only two, maybe two and a half if you included the first half of “Haunting”—but the few that they had, came at this point in the show.

He stayed on stage, but he was still too excited to give the songs a proper mournful mood as he kept jumping and smiling into the microphone at all the wrong moments. Nevertheless, the audience greeted his energy with unwavering enthusiasm, and Jungkook thought that this night would become another memory—one of many, lately—that he’d want to stay forever etched into his mind.

By the end of the show, he felt like parts of his skin had caught fire. He was filled with so much energy that he could have walked to Paris right now and performed a show there immediately. He even frightened a few fans with his incessant jumping as the band stayed back for their traditional informal Meet & Greet after the show.

As soon as it finished, Jungkook made his way to you backstage—still breathless, shirtless, sweaty, and ecstatic—and hugged you as soon as he found you, despite your half-hearted protests. He was damp and sticky, and purposefully holding onto you tighter when he heard you complain about it.

Noticing the sight, the rest of the band members piled into the room, hollering war cries and jumping on the two of you in a chaotic group hug. With all five of you giggling and suffocating under each other’s weight, you didn’t notice Minjun and Jude lingering in the doorway.

You were greedy for a minute—maybe two minutes—as you soaked up the band’s bliss and enjoyed the moment before breathlessly telling the boys to go and have fun. They thought you were just saying that so they’d let you breathe, so naturally, they stayed huddled together longer, purposefully torturing you. They tousled your hair when they pulled away, and ran off, seemingly bouncing off the walls of the room as they went.

Jungkook wiped his face with a towel that he’d kept over his shoulder, his smile never ceasing. When you managed to tear your gaze away from his lips, you finally noticed that Minjun was grinning at you from across the room, with an uncertain Jude next to him. Minjun had picked him up immediately after the police left with Sid.

You took a step towards them, but Taehyung accidentally hit a few chords on his bass as he was putting it back into the case across the room—the melody held an uncanny resemblance to Queen’s “Another One Bites The Dust”—and all four members of Rated Riot, in various out-of-tune voices, immediately belted out the chorus, blocking your path with their haphazard gyrations.

There was cause for celebration—like there was every night, but tonight, especially—and you allowed them to pull you into their dance.

Jungkook was still humming under his breath when he led you to the side of the room a few minutes later, eager to learn more about Sid. You motioned for Minjun and Jude to join you, too, and then stretched up on your toes to find Luna and Maggie in the crowding room. They spotted you first and approached, bouncing with excitement.

Jungkook was patting Jude on the back, but the girls pulled all of you into another group hug that sent all of you into a new fit of laughter.

“The show was that good, huh?” Jimin commented, amused by your affection, as he finished setting up the drinks on the table next to you.

You extended your hand to make room, and he snuck into the very middle of your group hug, holding onto Luna and Minjun.

“It was!” you agreed. “We’re celebrating.”

“When are we not?” Jimin replied, readily accepting the glass that Maggie handed him once she broke the hug.

You and Jungkook distributed the rest of the glasses to your little group, and Minjun poured the tequila. Absolutely exhilarated, all of you clicked your glasses together, laughing and splattering your drinks everywhere. You were a little worried about Jude, but Minjun kept his arm on Jude’s shoulder, giving you a nod when you met his eye. He’d watch over him.

You downed your shots and realised belatedly that you didn’t have any chasers. Understandably, the only solution was to wash off the bitter taste with another shot of tequila, leading to a very entertaining rest of the night.

Just a few shots later, Jimin excused himself to find Seokjin. There was another bet backstage about whether you would finally drink after the final show in London—you hadn’t last time—and Seokjin owed him money.

Now, with only those of you who had plotted against Sid left in this corner of the room, the atmosphere darkened just a little. Your adrenaline had begun to wear off.

“Okay, I know we’ve talked about getting him arrested and whatever happens next happens, but I am curious,” Luna said, breaking the weighty silence. ��How would it go in court? Hypothetically? Could he still avoid a prison sentence?”

You sighed. “He’s a first-time offender, so probably.”

“But wh—I mean, I actually doubt that,” Minjun interjected. “Considering the amount he has in his hotel room.”

You finished your shot before replying.

“There could be something else that makes the court lean towards a more lenient sentence, though,” you said. “He could—”

Minjun shook his head and cut your pessimistic approach off.

“Mitigating factors are good character, remorse, and proven steps to overcome drug use,” he cited. “Does any of that sound like Sid?”

You nodded, conceding. You’ve read about this together when you first began to plan Sid’s arrest, and Minjun had asked you the same question back then. Only a few extenuating circumstances could have applied to Sid, and even those were a stretch.

“Mental health could be a mitigating factor, too,” Jungkook added. “Sid is, I’m almost certain, insane.”

You raised your head to smile at him. At this point, everyone here knew that Sid was undoubtedly crazy or somewhere thereabout.

“That’s true,” Minjun agreed, smiling, too. “But they won’t release him back onto the streets, then. He’ll be institutionalised.”

“That’s good,” Maggie said, exhaling in evident relief. You hadn’t realised how concerned this change in conversation had made her feel. “I don’t want his ass coming anywhere near us.”

“He won’t be,” you assured. You may have been doubtful about Sid’s future behind bars, but you did not doubt that you’d never see him again. “If this won’t work, we’re all getting restraining orders.”

“Oh, nice,” Luna said, grinning. “We’ll save the officers some time if we all get one together.”

You snickered. “Exactly.”

Luna chuckled and stopped patting Maggie’s back to pour herself another drink. You and Jungkook both extended your empty glasses, too, and Luna playfully rolled her eyes before filling them.

“Honestly, I don’t even care what sentence Sid gets,” Jude said, and he began to stutter as soon as your little group turned to look at him. “I-I just want him to s-suffer a little.”

Maggie, ever as vindictive, raised her eyebrows at him. “A little?”

“For starters,” he clarified.

She nodded, much more pleased with this response, and broke into a lively tale about the positive feedback she received from Rated Riot’s fans after posting the blacklist—as though she was the one who had singlehandedly banned Sid—and the clouds of eerie disquiet above you quickly cleared.

Shortly after that, Taehyung grew bored and came to find Luna—with Jimin lingering by his side and playfully pulling Luna away from him. After Taehyung managed to run off with his girlfriend, Jimin changed his targets and continued his drunken twirling around a flustered Minjun, who kept insisting that he did not dance. Maggie had to pull Jimin away with an energetic pirouette, leaving the rest of you to yourselves.

Just then, Yoongi and Hoseok convinced Seokjin, Jimin, and Maggie to head back to the hotel, which was just a twenty-minute walk from the venue. They were all drunk enough to think they’d have a blast walking there and you had to dispatch Namjoon to accompany them. He was quite tipsy, too, but at least his limb coordination was not worse than it usually was. He’d drag them with him if one of them grew too tired of walking—you knew that one of them would and you gave Yoongi a knowing look before he left.

Minjun, Jude, Jungkook and you were the last people who remained in the dressing room to finish the drinks. You took this time to encourage Jude to tell you about what he did, and he shared the story about breaking Sid’s phone.

Happy and light from the alcohol, Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to lean into his side as you listened. It was extremely relieving to laugh about everything that you’ve been through today.

“So, we’re done?” Jungkook asked after Jude finished. “This is it?”

You glanced at Minjun just as he turned to look at you; the two of you had developed a special bond over the past few days. Then you turned to Jude, too. Both of them nodded.

“We’re done,” you confirmed. “They arrested him.”

Jungkook’s arm around your waist tightened as he drew you closer.

“And the hotel room?” he asked then.

“It’s all there,” Jude replied. “I took care of it, but I-I barely had to do anything. Sid kept everything literally lying around.”

You nodded, relieved. “Good.”

“Really, Sid was the one who did everything,” Minjun added. “We just… made it more obvious. That still took a hell of an effort, but it’s all over now. Great job, guys.”

He leaned in to pat Jude on the back, and you reached out to give a supportive squeeze on Jude’s arm, too.

“We wouldn’t be here without you,” you told him, happy to notice that tequila had helped Jude’s tanned skin regain some of its glow. “The hard part’s finally over.”

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook exclaimed, perking up. “It’s fucking over.”

He reached out to high-five Minjun, then Jude, and you did the same, smiling all the while. You turned to Jungkook then, but instead of connecting your palms, he wrapped both arms around you and exhaled deeply against your neck. He settled in your embrace, showing no signs of moving anytime soon, and Minjun had to clear his throat, dramatically turning his head away.

Grinning, Jungkook released you but kept one of his hands on your back.

“Let’s head back to the hotel, yeah?” you suggested, and all of them nodded. “We all need to get some sleep. And I still need to take twenty showers in a row to get rid of Sid’s stench.”

Jungkook remained oblivious to his surroundings as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Mind if I join?”

“Ugh.” Minjun grimaced. “Get used to this, Jude, these two are fucking intolerable.”

Jude snickered at this, and you laughed, too, taking Jungkook’s hand in yours.

“Thank you for everything you did today,” you said, your gaze stopping on all three of them.

Minjun’s expression softened. “Oh. It’s all for a good cause.”

“Yeah,” Jude said. He appeared more certain now, his voice was louder. He lost Sid but found his friends. He’d be alright. “W-we did this together.”

You smiled and turned back to Jungkook. He gave you a quick nod, and you understood. Patting Jude and Minjun on their shoulders as you walked past, you excused yourself to give the three of them a moment alone.

“Seriously, guys,” Jungkook said after you left. Minjun was a little uncomfortable with the intense gratitude in his friend’s eyes, but Jude was extremely touched. “Thank you for this. You’re a fucking rockstar, Jude, shit. And Minjun, thank you for being one of the masterminds behind this. How are you so fucking smart, but friends with us?”

They all laughed at this, but Minjun shook his head while he did, lowering his gaze.

“It was mostly your girlfriend’s plan,” he said. “She, uh—she made sure my ass doesn’t get busted along with Sid, actually.”

Jungkook was beaming. He would never tire of hearing you referred to as his girlfriend. Actually, he would never tire of hearing people talk about you and him in the same sentence, but this was even nicer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “She’d have also found a way to break you out of prison.”

Jude nodded, agreeing very strongly. “I bet she would have.”

Jungkook chuckled. He never thought he’d see the day when you would become friends with his friends, and he felt a little unsteady on his feet.

This moment here, tonight, felt very different from what he was used to, but it felt right. He hadn’t even realised how heavy the rock with Sid’s name on it had been on his chest, and how light he felt now that it was pushed off. How light he felt now that he was here with his friends. How happy.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told them.

“We’re glad to be here,” Minjun replied.

Jude cleared his throat and raised his glass. “Fuck Sid.”

It had become their mantra, and Jungkook raised his fist in the air.

“Fuck Sid,” he echoed, grinning.

He wanted to find some additional encouraging words, but he was starting to grow restless, shuffling his feet and scratching his palms. Minjun was quick to conclude that he was looking forward to finishing the conversation and leaving the room.

“Go,” Minjun told him. “Jude and I are going to go out for a smoke. We’ll see you later.”

Jungkook looked very grateful. He would not even pretend to protest.

“Alright,” he said, already walking away. “Save me one, and thanks again! You’re two of the coolest people I know. But she is the first one.”

Snickering, Minjun called after him, “rock on. And stay safe!”

Minjun and Jude could still hear his laughter, even though Jungkook had already left the room in a hurry to find you.

He spotted you by the exit, and as soon as you extended your hand for him to take, he ran the remaining few steps to get to you faster. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, and was about to open the door when you stopped him by pulling on his hand.

“Hold on,” you said. “I have something for you.”

Jungkook was a little puzzled—and very intrigued—as he watched you search the pockets of your jacket. Never, not even when he was dreaming and couldn’t control the signals that his subconsciousness was sending him, did he imagine you pulling out the keys to his Katana.

“Here,” you said. “Jude got them from Sid.”

He heard his friend’s name, and he saw the keys out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze remained locked on yours, as though fearful that this wasn’t actually happening, that perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t the keys that he had trouble processing. It was you, giving them back to him.

“I’m…” he faltered, the rest of his sentence never making it past his lips. He tried a different one instead. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “I’m just the messenger.”

“Well, you could have told Jude to take them back to Sid,” he pointed out, his throat dry. “I think that’s, um—that’s what I would have done.”

Observing his flustered state, you raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” you asked. “Did you change your mind about the bike? Is the paint peeling off, so you don’t want it anymore?”

Finally, his expression lightened, and a tentative smile returned to his lips.

“No,” he said. “And it would still be beautiful even without any paint. It’s what’s on the inside that matters.”

You grinned. “Very gallant.”

He remained hesitant, however, and you raised your palm again to give him the keys. You knew how much effort he’d put into the motorcycle, even though there were moments, when you first came to manage Rated Riot, where Jungkook’s obsession with his bike seemed unhealthy.

Yoongi—the self-proclaimed expert—had said that he’d seen this behaviour in almost all his friends. He was convinced that Jungkook was trying to compensate for something. Trying to fill some void in his life.

You remembered hating these assumptions. They had felt about as dangerous as Jungkook’s casual declaration about the love of his life.

“It’s your bike,” you said to Jungkook now, the keys cold in your palm. “I know how much it means to you.”

He took a sharp breath and shook his head. He did love the bike very much—as much as one could love an inanimate object, and maybe a little more—but he’s come to learn that he would give it up in a heartbeat for the things that truly mattered to him.

“It—it doesn’t mean to me nearly as much as you do,” he said. “I gave it up to keep Sid away.”

You swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth.

“You couldn’t keep Sid away even if you gave up Rated Riot,” you said. “He claims that’s what’s bothering him, but it isn’t. Not really. He just can’t stand the thought that you are bigger than he will ever be.”

“Hmm.”

Slowly, Jungkook took the keys from you, the tips of his uncertain fingers grazing over your palm. He examined the keys for a minute.

“I can put the keychain back on now,” he said. “It looks wrong without it.”

This surprised you.

“What—the “JK” one?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I had to change keys after I moved to a different apartment, and I put the pendant on these for the time being. It felt right, so I kept it there.”

He lifted the keys as he spoke and you frowned. You remembered the lurid—atrocious, really—pendant that you’d found at a fair and insisted on buying for him because it spelt out “JK” in large, jewelled letters. You were just drunk enough to find the flashy jewels enticing and very amusing.

You’d assumed Jungkook had put it on his keys as a challenge of sorts. It was very ugly and very far out of his usual taste in accessories, but you bought it, and he would rather cut off an arm than turn down a dare. You thought he’d taken it off after you broke up.

“You still have it?” you asked. “It was supposed to be a joke, I think.”

“Of course, I still have it,” he replied, almost offended. When he gave the keys to Sid, he kept the keychain. It was one of his most prized possessions. “It’s cute.”

“It’s huge,” you countered. “It ripped every pocket of every pair of jeans you owned.”

“That’s because they were shit jeans,” he said. “You leave my keychain alone.”

You snickered with a noncommittal shake of your head.

“Fine,” you said. “I’m glad you’ve grown so fond of it.”

“You gave it to me,” he said. “Of course, I’m fond of it.”

He slipped the keys into his pocket and gave you a wink as he did—to let you know that he didn’t mind ripping this pair of jeans, too, once he reattached the keychain. Then he finally opened the door of the venue and took your hand into his, leading you outside.

The hotel was quiet when you returned, but you didn’t have time to wonder where the rest of the Rated Riot members were—you’d have definitely heard them if they were here—because Jungkook pulled you into his room as soon as you climbed the stairs to your floor.

His bathroom quickly turned messy, with your clothes scattered on the cold tiles. Jungkook had the rare talent of figuring out the shower mechanism within a second, and the warm water washed over you as soon as you stepped into the cabin after him. The glass panels on either side began to fog when you slid the door closed.

You knew Jungkook preferred his showers ice cold, but the water right now was scalding hot. He didn’t even ask you about it, didn’t try to negotiate. He simply made this comfortable for you and wrapped his arms around you, his grip unreasonably tight.

Hotel bathrooms, you realised, had become a significant part of your relationship.

“You still have to show me your playlist, by the way,” he murmured, following the path of the water droplets down your spine.

You sighed, feeling his chest move against yours as he chuckled. “What do I have to do to get out of it?”

“Show it to me,” he replied. “And I’ll shut up.”

“You never shut up.”

He laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at you. His hair fell in clumsy ringlets around his face—not wet enough to fully straighten yet—and you needed to remind yourself to keep breathing in, then out. He leaned in, wearing a teasing smile on his face, as if he knew that you’d stop breathing again as soon as he did this, and pressed his lips to yours.

You could taste the liquor that you’d shared backstage on his tongue and felt his warm breath as he exhaled against your mouth. Your touch on his neck was so delicate that he wasn’t fully convinced it was you, and not the stream of water that touched him. He wanted to hold you tighter to really feel you here, and he lowered his hands to the small of your back, gently drawing you closer.

Steam rose from the shower floor, and the glass turned grey from the fog. Jungkook would have been suffering in this heat if he had felt any of it. All he could focus on right now was you, and how you still tasted like a distant dream, no matter how many times he’d kissed you.

The shampoo remained untouched as your fingers explored each other’s skin, jealous of the courageous water drops—they dared to touch everything that your hands longed to reach.

Eventually, he blindly found the bar of soap on the metal shelf behind him, and broke away from the kiss.

Before you could say anything, he instructed quietly, “turn around.”

It took a moment for you to comply—not because of some defiance, but because the tattoos on his arm, when they were peppered with glistening droplets of water, were captivating in a way that they’ve never been before.

He rubbed the soap between his palms and massaged your arms and back, lathering the foam on your skin. His touch was slow and careful, although not particularly calculated as his hands kept wandering to every soft part of you. Every single one of his caresses seemed to cleanse something from your skin that mere water could never wash away.

A soft sigh passed your lips as his fingers followed the traces of bubbles on your navel, and you forgot everything that you were still supposed to do today. By the time he leaned in closer, his chest pressed against your back as he ran his hands over your collarbones, your chest, and your stomach, you forgot everything you’d done before today, too.

You realised, as you felt his breath against your neck, how calm you felt. How absolutely at peace—and how much you’ve waited for this. How much you wanted these moments to stay frozen in time, just yours and no one else’s, surreal and dreamlike even as you lived through them.

Jungkook noticed your closed eyes, and whispered softly, “are you okay?”

You hummed. “I love you.”

He felt your heartbeat under his fingertips. He felt the way your words echoed in his chest. And he realised that he was stupid to think he’d already experienced every human emotion in his life, because these sensations in his stomach were new. They felt like scattered branches of fir trees. Like the sharp edges of young pinecones. They stirred within him like a forest of evergreen trees: vibrant, timeless, and beautiful.

You’ve opened something inside him that he didn’t realise had been closed. And you’ve closed everything he regretted opening. You were every breath he took, every scent he smelled, and every flavour he tasted. You were every beat of his heart.

He did not think he could ever adequately express the depth of everything you made him feel.

“Thank you,” he said, because he couldn’t not say anything, “for everything.”

You turned in his arms, a little confused about his abrupt gratitude. Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze locked on yours.

“I can’t—I don’t know how to say what I feel,” he admitted. “You change my life every day. Maybe that’s all there is to it.”

The look in his eyes as he said this reached something very deep inside you—something that had been waiting for him every day for the past seven years, and all the years before that.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said again.

“I love you,” he replied, pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt his chest move as he breathed, and you closed your eyes again. You knew now that this was your safe space.

Contrary to Jungkook, who needed company to drown out the noises in his head, you were very fond of your solitude. Being alone with your thoughts provided you with a sense of security that you could never find with other people—because, as much as you loved them, they were still other people.

Jungkook did not feel like other people. He felt like you, as much as you felt like you. And right now, with the water running from his skin to yours, you felt calm. Easy. Solid, but serene.

He was your safe space.

“I have a meeting with the executives when we get to Paris,” you whispered, your words barely audible over the running water. “And—also the law team.”

He stilled in your arms for just a moment, then his fingers went back to their race against the water on your lower back.

“They set a date?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “The day after tomorrow, before your first show in Paris. Nine in the morning.”

“Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I’m going to tell them we’re together.”

He pulled back a little and waited until you lifted your head so he could look at you.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you sure?”

The question was painful. You made a mental note to show more confidence when you gave him the answers that he wanted—because these were the answers that you wanted, too.

“I’m sure,” you affirmed.

He nodded, running the tips of his fingers over the ends of your hair. “Should we—um, do you want to—”

“Let’s meet after,” you said, answering his half-question.

“Yeah? Coffee?” he asked.

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He leaned into you again, inhaling the smell of the lilac-scented soap on your neck as his arms found their way back around your waist, and he hummed against your shoulder.

“You know…” he murmured. “If I had your playlist, it’d be easier for me to wait until your meeting was over.”

Your cheeks stretched before you could stop your smile. “What playlist?”

The circles he was tracing on your back turned teasing, chaotic. He felt you squirm at the tickling sensation.

“Don’t play dumb with me now,” he whispered. “Give me the link.”

You pulled back and squeezed his forearms to get him to stop moving his hands over your sides.

“Say please?” you said.

The request took him a little off guard, but his surprise quickly shifted into an impressed grin.

“Hmm,” he said. “Is that how you want me? On my knees and begging?”

You shrugged, trying to fight against the fog from the shower as it began to gather in your head. “I do sort of like the image of that.”

“Please?” he said—right away.

You watched him for a second, your chest alight with flames, and you decided that with the subtle curve of his lips and the sparkle in his eyes, right now was the most beautiful he’d ever looked. It wouldn’t last, though. You were sure he’d take your breath away again tomorrow.

“Mm, I’m not convinced,” you said. “Say it with your chest.”

He poked his cheek with his tongue, giving his head a slight shake. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

He shook his head again, then took a deep breath and pouted his lips.

“Please let me listen to the playlist you made about me,” he said, making sure to keep his voice devastated. “Please, please, plea—”

“Alright,” you said.

He was already about to start arguing, but he closed his mouth and grinned instead.

“Oh,” he said. “That was easy.”

You gasped, but the offence that barely appeared on your laid-back features made him chuckle. Stepping back, you gave him a look that was only stern in theory—there was no serious substance in the soft shade of your eyes.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you warned.

“You can’t,” he replied, pulling you back into him. He seemed to know no other way: you were very close, and his hands were free. Naturally, he was going to reach for you. “You made a promise.”

You frowned. “When?”

“When you got into this shower with me.”

Your brows furrowed further. “I didn’t promise you anything.”

“You did,” he insisted. He was grinning mischievously and his eyes were narrowed—you could guess what he would say next.

You still bit, “alright, what did I promise?”

He looked triumphant.

“To be with me for the rest of my life,” he said.

You clicked your tongue, but your expression was luminous despite your attempts to hide it.

“That has nothing to do with my playlist,” you said, deliberately looking away. “And I don’t remember promising that.”

“Hold on,” he said, turning his head to meet your gaze, and gently lifting your chin to get you to look at him again. “You have objections?”

You had absolutely no objections and he could tell as much from the sparkling in your eyes. But you weren’t going to make this easy for him, and he expected as much.

“I mean, what if you have a change of heart?” you said. “And then having me around for the rest of your life starts to feel more like a curse? Although that’d be fun for me, I imagine. I’d love to mess with you. But it wouldn’t really be fair to you.”

He found the suggestion ridiculous. His heart had your name engraved on it in golden letters. There was no situation, as long as you were with him, that he’d find unfair.

“Unless hell freezes over tomorrow,” he said, “I’d say your odds are good.”

The corners of your lips twitched. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Having you with me will always be a blessing.”

The clumsy cartwheels of your erratic heart forced you to look away again, and you tsked, making his smile widen with each disapproving shake of your head.

“You know, you say things sometimes,” you said, “and I know you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Really?” His voice was exuberant. “Are you swooning for me, then?”

You grimaced. “I wouldn’t call it swoo—”

“Getting weak in the knees?”

“I don’t get weak in the knees.”

“No?” he teased. “But I’m literally holding you up right now.”

You glanced down, as if to check, and took a moment before raising your head again.

“That’s—for different reasons,” you said, and remained, very comfortably, right in his arms.

“Different reasons,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Such as?”

You did not spare him a glance. “Maybe I just enjoy having you so close.”

His grin was so proud, so radiant that you could see it without looking at him. It was loud, too; it drowned out the sounds of the shower and all sensations of the hot water on your skin.

“Oh,” he said, drawing you closer to his chest in one remarkably swift motion. “Now you’ve done it.”

You craned your neck to meet his gaze. “Done what?”

“Now I’m never letting you go,” he said, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Literally.”

You chuckled softly and allowed him to drown you in his touch. It didn’t matter anyway—you couldn’t breathe very well unless you felt him next to you.

“That’s hardly possible,” you teased. “We’re very busy people.”

“I’ll make it possible,” he said. You remembered having a similar conversation with him before, but he had significantly more confidence in his voice now. “We got Sid fucking arrested. Everything else is easy. I can figure out how to keep you right next to me for every second of every day for as long as we both live.”

You were a little concerned that so many years had passed since you met, and the butterflies in your stomach only seemed to grow larger, bolder, and much more restless with every passing day.

“I still don’t think that’s possible,” you replied quietly, “but I don’t mind seeing you try.”

“Good,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. “You know I’ve never lost a single challenge I’ve accepted.”

You lifted one eyebrow, amused by his claim.

“Technically,” you said, “you lost the bet to Sid.”

“Oh—” the syllable got caught somewhere in his throat. “Fuck.”

He looked almost appalled, and he suddenly felt a little nauseous, too.

“Too soon?” you asked. Your lips twitched as you fought back against your laughter.

He dug his teeth into his lower lip and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, maybe a bit.”

“Oh, no,” you whined. “Should we avoid talking about it? Is this a taboo topic?”

He watched your theatrics and realised that anything that didn’t kill you really did make the two of you stronger, because he had convinced himself that he’d never survive the aftermath of the bet—and now you were teasing him about it.

“No,” he said. “No, you’re right. In the grand scheme of things, I’ve done far stupider shit to have you with me again, so we should be able to joke about this.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, grinning. “At least you didn’t get a concussion this time.”

Jungkook didn’t think that not having a concussion was what made this better. Although, to be fair, he hardly remembered anything after the forgotten kettle fell on his head while he was trying to plan a date night for you—but really, you were more hurt by his pain when he told you about it years later than he was in the moment it happened.

“I hurt you, though,” he said slowly. “That’s worse.”

You gave a firm shake of your head.

“It wasn’t the bet that hurt me,” you said. “But you fixed every problem that did. We actually put one of them in the back of a police car tonight. And you and I learnt how to talk to each other in the process. Look at us now.”

He felt his heart pick up speed, but he was still hesitant to agree. He didn’t think he’d ever have the right to make the first joke about the bet, however harmless it could seem years from now.

He nodded slowly. “Hmm.”

“Next step is learning how to shut up,” you added.

Looking up from the tiles of the shower floor, he took a moment to register the playful glint in your eyes.

“Is—is that supposed to be directed at me?” he asked, squinting.

“No, I meant that in general,” you replied. “But if the shoe fits…”

He scoffed, sliding one of his hands down your arm to intertwine your fingers.

“Oh, if the shoe fits,” he repeated. “Alright. Did you go to Jin’s school of comebacks?”

“I did,” you played along. “And graduated with honours.”

He nodded. “I can see that. Teacher’s pet much?”

“Very much.”

His grin was criminal, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it pressed against your lips.

“Well,” he said, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pulling you closer, “I do enjoy it when you listen to me. And when you do what I tell you.”

“Hmm.” You ran your tongue over your lips, and he was thoroughly infatuated with the look in your eyes at the moment. “That implies you’re the teacher in our relationship.”

“Am I not?”

“You haven’t taught me anything.”

He snorted, dignified. “I’ve taught you plenty.”

“Name one thing you taught me,” you challenged, but you were smiling at him, and he struggled to keep his train of thought when he looked at you.

“I—well, I taught you to play guitar, didn’t I?” he said.

You frowned, baffled by his interpretation of the word “teach.” You remembered the nights when Jungkook tried to learn guitar, and you were forced to listen to him whine about how there had to be something wrong with him—because, of course, if he couldn’t immediately excel at something, that had to mean that he was the problem.

“Is that what you think you were doing when you were learning it yourself?” you asked. “Because not only did you break all six strings, but the neighbours started banging on the radiators, and we—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted. The night you were talking about wasn’t his best, but he’d improved considerably since then. “I also taught you how to fight.”

“And then forbade me from punching Sid,” you countered. “Doesn’t count if I can’t use it.”

He rolled his eyes. You waited for another example, even though he was notoriously terrible at teaching others—to be fair, he rarely ever had to learn things himself; usually, they really did come naturally to him—but Jungkook stayed quiet for a few minutes.

“Well,” he finally said, “I taught you how to stop running from your feelings.”

“You—” you stopped your instinctive rebuttal and took a moment to look down and calm your heart instead. “Okay. Yeah. I suppose you did teach me that.”

“That’s right,” he said, happy to finally gloat. “Be a good student for me, and kiss me now.”

You looked up, distracted but amused. “Oh. Is this assignment going to affect my final grade?”

“Mhmm. It’s worth 75%.”

“Hmm. So, I have to put in some effort, I guess.”

He nodded while his hands roamed on your skin absentmindedly. “Might take you all night to finish it.”

“I don’t know...” you said. “I was never very good at pulling all-nighters.”

“Maybe that can be something else I teach you,” he murmured, close enough to touch your lips with his own as he spoke.

You whispered back, “maybe,” and he chose to reply by finally pressing his lips to yours.

He kissed you like he would countless times in the future, and the teasing promises of forever seemed to solidify inside you, like invisible tattoos that ran across your souls. And you remembered, because how could you not, about the first kiss that led you to this moment.

It was seven years ago, at the end of your second date, after you got back from the carnival where he claimed to have asked you to be his girlfriend. He had whined about not being able to walk you to your door after your first date—you were both wet from the rain, and he wasn’t allowed into your dormitory—so you snuck him in this time.

But he got too nervous in the end – he walked you to your door, hiding his trembling hands in his front pockets, and said goodbye to you, all while nearly suffocating from his anxiety. He’d already started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turned back. You were still standing there, watching him, your hands not reaching for the door handle. You looked like you knew he was going to turn around.

He reached you in two quick strides and connected your lips with so much force that your back hit the wall. He cupped your cheek with one hand and placed the other one on the wall behind you—and your breath never made it out, losing its way somewhere in his mouth. You’d kissed him back, your body trapped between the wall and his chest, and you thought you’d never feel quite as dizzy as this again.

Years later, in the shower of his hotel room in London, Jungkook kissed you again and again and again, and his lips still made your breath hitch, still made the room spin out of control.

He kissed you and every single time, the feeling of his lips on yours made your head feel light. He kept one of his hands on your cheek, the other one on the wall behind you—like that very first time—and you remembered wishing, seven years ago, that the night wouldn’t end. That he would stay, with his lips locked on yours, his touch warm and silky.

You remembered counting, too, how much time was left until you inevitably had to say goodbye. It had all felt so dramatic back then, so temporary. There was so little time, and so much you still had to do, so much you still wanted.

Tonight, the edges of the sky outside the small, shaded bathroom window were turning red; the sun was rising.

You counted again – there were five minutes left in this night, and you already had everything you wanted.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “feral”

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miveras · 2 days

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𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 | JJK

♡ preview: in which jungkook is a gentleman & he helps you get out of a situation.

♡ pairing: jungkook x reader

♡ genre: strangers to lovers, idk what this is honestly (i think i rushed it a little towards the end but its okay)

♡ wc: 6.8k

The wind brushes your hair to the side, and you tuck some loose strands behind your ears. You turn around with your eyebrows raised, pulling out your earphones to question whoever just tapped you on the shoulder. You had just stepped out of the store and with the receipt still in your hand, you wondered if you forgot to scan something in the self-checkout line.

You’re met with an above average looking man near your age. He’s not much taller than you and he looks friendly– not a phrase you often think about a man. He’s wearing a plain, beige hoodie with black pants– a nice outfit, and pretty hair to top off his look.

Though slightly mesmerized by his looks, you still gather your thoughts as you ask him what he wants from you. With an awkward smile, he glances around the parking lot first, then he leans closer to your ear.

“I think there’s someone following you,” he continues, “he’s been eyeing you for a while.” You hear the hesitation in his words– probably worried that you’d think of him weirdly for bothering you about it.

Your lips part in shock, worriedness and fear visible on your face. You try your best not to make it obvious when you turn around, looking for who he was talking about. Once you landed on his familiar figure, your face contorts into a sour expression, remembering the previous interaction you had with him.

He looked about your age, but it seemed like he had the mind of an old man. His eyes met yours as he started smiling widely– all full of himself, probably thinking that you wanted him too.

Great, you were so over everything at this point. All you wanted to do was visit the store and get all the essentials enough for weeks– so that you could avoid creeps. Thankful for his input, you give him a slight smile and explain what had happened before.

“Oh,” you sounded a bit appalled, “uhm.. He’s been staring since I was inside the store. I didn’t know he’d follow me out here too.” You were clearly unsure what to say or do– should you continue home and risk him following you? Or should you report him to someone first?

Earlier, you had already told the creep that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, obviously not thinking it through. Now, he probably thought this man in front of you was your boyfriend. He noticed how you bit your lip, feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know in case he actually tries doing something.”

“Yeah, thank you for that. I think I’m still gonna take the bus and head home, though. I’ll just hope he doesn’t find out where I live,” you chuckle, though it sounds fake.

He nods, understanding that there really isn’t anything else to do. He feels a bit awkward telling you about him and not doing anything else to help.

As you were about to walk away, he suddenly blurted out, “Do you want me to drive you?” He seems genuinely concerned knowing that you were taking the bus– meaning he could follow you and find out where you live easily. He just didn’t feel right not offering to be your personal driver, especially considering the circumstances.

It may sound strange but within the small time frame where you talked, you seemed oddly comfortable with him. So much that you even consider getting into the car with him, but even you know how absurd that sounds. But you weren’t stupid. Instead, you offer him a polite, ‘Thank you but no thanks,’ hoping he’d understand.

He does but he couldn’t help pestering you about it further. He offers to either drive you or buy an Uber for you instead of taking the bus. You only assure him that you’ll be fine after he keeps insisting, and you get ready to start heading home.

“Wait, can I have your number? I-I mean, for safety reasons of course, but only if you want to. I just want to make sure you get home safe and I’d feel extremely guilty knowing that I practically sent you home while he’s still here,” he rambles on.

You found it quite amusing how sweet he was to you and you gladly gave him your digits.

“My name’s Jungkook. What should I save you as?”

He notices the creep frown at you both, but you didn’t react.

“Y/N, and pretty name by the way,” you enjoy the way he blushes at the compliment, licking his lips as an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

You both save each other’s names and numbers. After the exchange, you slip the receipt you were still holding into your bag.

He watched you walk away towards the bus stop, still slightly worried about the situation. But in the end, he knew it wasn’t his business and drove home as well. He knew you just didn’t want to feel burdened over a mere stranger driving you or buying you an Uber. But he hoped that you knew he just wanted to keep you away from the creep.

You [04:56 pm]: hey, i just got home safe. u?

Jungkook [5:14 pm]: not yet, i'm out rn. he didn’t try following u, did he?

You [05:27 pm]: thank god, no. ty for worrying abt me jungkook. :)

You [05:28 pm]: get home safe

As you turn the corner from the library, you’re suddenly met with someone’s chest. You stumble back a bit and hold onto your textbooks tighter. Luckily, you don’t fall.

“Ah, I’m sorry, you good?” he asks, straightening up. “Oh, Y/N?”

You look up at him, a bit shocked that you guys met again on campus. You didn’t even know he was in college.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here– do you go here?” You had so many questions right now. It seemed weird how he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit shocked, as if he already knew.

“Yeah, I do. But listen, Y/N– I have something to talk to you about.” He checked the time on his phone, and looked at you expectantly. It seemed pretty urgent and he didn’t have much time left to meet up with you for a little.

You nod and decide to walk to the nearest boba shop. You were about to head here anyway for a little sweet treat– usually Matcha Bubble Tea. You order yours as well as Jungkook’s drink. Once you both take a seat, you wait for him to explain what’s gotten into him. This is only the second time meeting with him, and you have many questions.

He starts, pushing the straw to puncture the lid, “He goes to our school.” He waits for your reaction, but your silence serves as encouragement for him to keep going. “The guy that was following you, I saw him in my frat.”

“What? You knew him– why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You felt a bit betrayed, and so confused why he didn’t just say that. Did he play the hero just to get your number for his friend or something?

“No, no. I-I just found out recently. I mean, I already knew you went here since I’d seen you around before– in the library and in class.” You didn’t have time to process that he already knew you, and instead you focus on the other guy involved.

“When I saw him yesterday, I was gonna reach out to you when I had the time. It just so happens that you were in the library this morning,” he explains quickly.

Slurping your drink, you seem less worried and confused as he goes on. It was just a misunderstanding. But now you have to worry about the creep when you’re in school too. You roll your eyes and complain about how unlucky you are.

He looks at you briefly before continuing, “He thinks we’re dating.” You give him a questioning look– somewhat asking why that matters. You already knew this sort of thing may happen, given that you did tell the guy your boyfriend was waiting for you, and out comes Jungkook at the perfect moment.

You just didn’t know why it would matter. Did he have a girlfriend and he didn’t want her to misunderstand?

“What’s the problem? Did you want to clear things up with him?”

Honestly, you were more shocked that Jungkook wanted to tell him that you guys weren’t dating than him actually going to your school. In fact, you stopped caring as soon as his eyes started glowing from the sun rays coming from the window.

If he had a girlfriend, you were so damn sorry for the way you are ogling him right now. You look away– flushed cheeks and everything, contemplating how pretty he looked underneath the light.

“Well.. he kind of told everybody. So I wanted to let you know before you hear from someone else. I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that,” he seemed rather sweet about it.

Aww, he wanted to get your approval first. You grin widely at him, so utterly infatuated with the thought of him caring for you– you’ve never taken a liking to someone so quick before. It’s not a crush, you convince yourself, it’s just been too long since someone took care of you.

You immediately brush off your thoughts when you notice him staring at you with an awkward smile. You take another sip of your drink, almost forgetting that it was in front of you.

“Honestly, I don’t have a problem with it,” you remark, sending him a playful wink. You weren’t sure where you got this newfound confidence but you blamed it on Jungkook. He was too cute for you not to tease him.

You both exchanged classes, majors, and talked about your school lives– especially how crazy it was that you both hadn’t talked before despite having similar interests.

After a bit, he had to go since he’d made plans to go out with his friends. You could tell he was already late by the way he rushed out– almost forgetting his bag in the process.

You stay behind, thinking about how much you wanted to learn more about him– his habits, hobbies, everything. You were excited to get to know him– a feeling you hadn’t felt in a while.

You see her the next morning in your Chemistry class.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” she shouts angrily, mostly from betrayal. She practically seethes smoke out of her ears, rushing close to you for answers. Your friend rages, “How come you didn’t come to me first?”

She speaks for both her and Jimin, your two best friends since high school. You understood their reaction since it was pretty abrupt and they never even heard you talk about Jungkook before. There was no doubt that the two of them felt ignored and hurt– this was the first time you hadn’t told them anything.

In fact, you knew that Jimin was probably blaming himself for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him. Instead of being irate with you like Lea clearly was, he felt it within– blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault.

You forgot about how they both would react to the rumors, and you forgot to settle them as quickly as possible. You regret your decision now that you’re faced with Lea turning her back towards you, huffing and puffing everytime she remembers you’re right next to her.

“Lea,” you whine, tapping on her shoulder, “they’re not true– the rumors aren’t.”

She finally turns to you with a confused look on her face, trying to scan your’s to make sure you were telling the truth. When she finally figures it out, she asks for a detailed explanation on the situation.

“A guy spread a rumor about Jungkook and I but trust me when I say there’s nothing between us,” you weren’t completely telling the truth. You knew there was something but you refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t seem interested in you anyway. “We’re just friends.”

“Promise?” she extends her pinky out towards you hesitantly, wondering if you’d fess up or keep going. She wasn’t against you and Jungkook being together, but she didn’t want a relationship to get between you both. Lea would’ve been fine if you just told her about you and him, but the thought of you keeping it a secret from them sent her into a trance.

“Promise,” you interlock yours with hers tightly.

She immediately beams at the contact, knowing that a pinky promise was sacred between the three of you. Nobody ever breaks a pinky promise without a good reason.

In a moment, Jungkook walks through the door and takes a seat beside you, glancing at your friend to familiarize himself with her. You make eye contact with her while she raises her eyebrows at you– questioning your motives with Jungkook despite the promise. He acknowledges your presence but he continues to do what he always does in class.

You look over to him and he looks just as cute as ever– his hair messily plastered on his face, making you want to lean over and part his hair through the middle. He looks down at his computer, typing whatever the professor just said before looking up at the board again.

He glances at you, feeling your stare, and he immediately starts blushing when he notices that you’ve been looking at him the whole time.

You don’t notice Lea squinting her eyes at you both– trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Jungkook, is that your girlfriend?” he points at you accusingly. You assume that it’s one of Jungkook’s friends from his frat, one where everyone seemed to believe that you and Jungkook were dating. He wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you– happy that Jungkook found someone he liked.

“Uh, actually-” his voice trails off. Just as Jungkook was about to deny it, he caught a look at the doorway where the creep just so happened to stand.

“Yes, she is.” He makes eye contact with you, trying to send you a clue on why he said that. You catch the hint when you follow his gaze, immediately smiling at him to let him know that you understood.

Lea immediately turns her head, expecting a response from you.

You really had no problem people thinking you and Jungkook were in a relationship. In fact, you enjoyed it quite a bit– his flushed look and blushing cheeks whenever someone mentions him having a girlfriend.

“Ohh, I thought so. You guys look good together�� I was wondering when Jungkookie here would finally make a move. He’s been crushing on you for like the longest time-”

“Hyung! Stop it,” he interrupts. Embarrassed, he whispers something to his friend, playfully shoving him in the shoulder for exposing him. You hear him mutter, “I’ll talk to you later,” probably to tell him that we’re not actually dating. You make nothing of their interaction and instead, you just continue annotating and highlighting bullet points on your computer.

Once he leaves to go to his class, Lea whispers in your ear.

“So, your promise? Are you guys dating or not..” she seems genuinely confused. She trusted you and she knew that you weren’t lying, but part of her doubted you after Jungkook’s confession.

Jungkook’s friend and the creep had already left to their designated classes, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. The doorway was pretty much empty, so you felt like you could tell Lea everything now.

“We’re not,” you continue, “He’s just helping me stay away from someone,” you turn back to gesture at Jungkook. “There’s a guy from his frat bothering me and he’s making sure that I feel safe.”

Lea’s face turns to worry, asking you about the guy. She was concerned that he’d try doing something with you, and all her doubt went away as soon as you revealed that. She even thanked Jungkook for making you feel comfortable, apologizing to him for the death glares she kept sending his way.

You catch her up on everything that happened, from the grocery store to the conversation you had with Jungkook. You told her that there was practically nothing between you and him, except for this uncomfortable situation. You both were fine with it for now, and it was only temporary– until he leaves you alone.

Jungkook [04:58 pm]: hi, are u busy tn?

You [05:07 pm]: no, why?

You were surprised to see his text since he wasn’t one to text first, especially without a reason to– leaving you wondering if it was something important.

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: i wanted to ask if u wanted to go to a party w me

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: my friends kept asking why u weren’t coming & i panicked so i said u were

You [05:14 pm]: oh

Jungkook [5:15 pm]: i’m so sorry, u don’t have to come if u don’t want to

You [5:18 pm]: i do :)

You can practically picture his smile behind the screen. You had nothing to do and the night would be so much better if you spent it with him.

You [5:19 pm]: pick me up @7pm?

Jungkook [5:21 pm]: sure, i’ll be there

He saves your address on his phone, doing it early so that nothing goes wrong when he comes to pick you up.

“Y/N, I’ll get you water” he offers, already walking somewhere. He took one good look at you and he already knew you had too much to drink. You were stumbling all over the place, clutching onto the hem of his hoodie as he led you to the kitchen.

“Careful,” he whispers, grabbing your arms gently to prevent you from falling. He fawns at your clumsiness, wishing that he saw this side of you more often.

He immediately grabs the cup you’re holding, nearly empty, to stop you from drinking more. Letting you go for a bit, he walks away to the sink, pouring your drink, and heading to the fridge to get you water.

He hands you a bottle of water, then sits you on the counter– there were no nearby seats available and you looked like you were about to fall any second. You look so pretty right now, he thinks, looking down at you. Even on the counter, he’s still taller than you.

You feel delirious, eyes closing as you find yourself getting dizzy. You don’t even feel like yourself at this point– you were tired and you wanted to go home. You lean on Jungkook in front of you for support– not minding that you’re practically clutching onto him with your legs around his waist.

You were definitely not thinking about how silky his hair was and how much you wanted to run your hands through them. Or how drawn you are to his lips and literally everything about him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him. He was one hell of a man, and you couldn’t resist him standing in front of you.

His eyes seem connected to yours– both of you never blinking. He scans you from top to bottom, looking away once he realizes you staring at him back. He thought you’d find him weird or something like that.

You lay your hand on top of his on the counter– interlacing your fingers with one another.

“Y/N..” he whispers.

His breath hitches as he notices you leaning closer. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t think like this– you’re drunk. But you look so beautiful right now, he was so entranced by your features he just had to give in.

“Wait, w-we shouldn’t. Not when you’re drunk,” he stutters. It doesn’t feel right– he feels as if he’s taking advantage of you in this state. He wanted you bad, but he couldn’t.

Jungkook doesn’t know if you both are going too fast with this, especially since you just met recently. But he also doesn’t know how to stop the uncontrollable urge to kiss you– and he doesn’t care much anyway.

His nose brushes against yours– he closes his eyes, expecting to feel your lips against his.

“What the fuck?” The door slams open and Jimin, your best friend, walks in unannounced. His face contorts to an upset expression, and he just stands by the doorway looking at you both. You assume that Lea already told him there was nothing between you guys– yet he just walked in on you two trying to kiss each other.

Jungkook immediately steps back from you, his cheeks growing red by the minute. He pretends to be pouring another drink for himself, listening to your conversation with Jimin– which sounds more like a fight.

“You told Lea there was nothing between you guys! You know we’d be supportive if you’d just tell us the truth. Why did you have to lie,” he rambles.

“I didn’t! There’s nothing between us, i-it’s just-”

“Then why was he all up in your face? Why were you guys about to make out, hmm?” He mocks you both. Deep down, Jimin didn’t know why he was so angry– he assumed that you did lie to him but it wasn’t his business in the first place. He wasn’t sure why he was acting out, but just the thought of you lying to him and Lea set him off. He didn’t even notice that Jungkook was still in the room.

“We aren’t dating,” you huff, trying to get Jimin to listen to you for a minute. You know he felt hurt that he wasn’t the first to know, and the fact that you “lied” to him made it worse.

Once Jimin calms down and you explain everything to him like you did with Lea, he offers you a sympathetic glance. He doesn’t even mention what you and Jungkook were doing right before he walked in. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know what to say if he asked you again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N– for jumping into conclusions. I thought you lied to us,” he saddens. It was understandable for him to react this way, and you made sure to let him know that.

Now, with all the tension in the air, you stand up awkwardly. It was time to head home now– after the mood was ruined unintentionally.

“Uhm, J-Jungkook. Should we head home now?” you gesture to the time. You expected to leave much later, but after this, you couldn’t wait to curl up in your bed alone. He smiles at you, immediately grabbing his hoodie to head out. He says goodbye to a few of his fraternity brothers in the process– following right behind you and out the door.

The drive home was mainly silent since it just consisted of calm music and you sleeping peacefully.

He glances at you leaning your head against the window– head falling whenever there’s a bump or turn in the road. You look so peaceful right now– your soft features and delicate skin make him think you’re an angel.

He finds himself drifting his eyes to you every few minutes, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and asleep. He wished he’d stored a blanket in his car for you earlier– so that you wouldn’t shiver even when the heater is on.

You turn, waking up because of the loud music blasting in your headphones. Once you turn it off, you drift to sleep for the rest of the drive, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t mind though– at least he has more time to admire you and stare without you noticing him.

You don’t even react when he unbuckles your seatbelt for you when he pulls over in front of your house. He hated having to wake you up– but it turns out, he didn’t need to. You had just woken up in confusion, almost forgetting that you were at a party an hour ago. You only come to your senses when he opens the door right next to you, willfully grabbing your hand to lead you out.

“Hi,” he whispers when he sees you stirring, “we’re here.”

Though you feel sober, you still have a dizzying headache pulsing through your veins and you still stumble your way through the path.

“My keys.. are in my bag,” you say, shuffling through everything in frustration. You nearly drop your lip gloss on the ground– Jungkook catching it for you. You grow impatient as you lean on the door to hold you stable.

Jungkook leans in to do it for you. Immediately, he takes out your keys attached to a cute little cinnamoroll plushie and dangles it in front of you to ask if that was the right one. He turns the keys to unlock your door, pushing his way in for you. He was such a gentleman.

“Do you need me to help you lay down or anything?” he sweetly asks. It’s times like these when you’re so appreciative of him– of meeting him.

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ve ever met and you’re so lucky to have even come across him. It kind of makes you mad how easy it is to like him.

You nod, and he immediately closes and locks the door behind you. After telling him where your room was, he basically carried you there. You quickly change into your pajamas in the bathroom and when you come back, you find him staring at a picture of you and your old friends on the wall.

“What? Are you gonna make fun of my haircut?” you accuse playfully. You chuckle at his response, expecting him to comment at your horribly done makeup or your unbrushed hair in the photo.

“I just- well, you look so different here. When was this?” he pointed at you, Lea, and Jimin to your right in the photo.

“Three years ago.” You reminisce the memory of you and your friends having fun at the arcade, then taking pictures in the photo booth afterwards. You still cherish and hold that memory in your heart, one of the funnest days in your life.

That was when you three were just getting close, and now you were closer than ever.

Because you’re still drunk– your eyes start tearing up just a little, thinking about how much you love your friends. You become most emotional when you’re drunk, contemplating life and its pros and cons.

He stares at you, reveling in your emotional state– he never gets to see you like this, all vulnerable. But now Jungkook feels like he invaded your space, and he thinks that it’s time to go. He was about to speak up but you beat him to it.

“Urgh,” you cover your mouth with your hand, fighting the urge to vomit. It must’ve been the alcohol, but right now, you just needed to rush to the bathroom. Jungkook follows right behind you– making sure that you’ll be okay for the night.

“I'm-” urghh, “so sorry Jungkook,” you manage to let out between your pukes. He holds your hair behind you, carefully bunching it up into a ponytail so you wouldn’t have to go to sleep in puke-covered hair. Truthfully, he didn’t care if you were throwing up in front of him– you were equally as attractive as ever.

After a bit, he settles you down on your bed. You’re completely knocked out, snoring to your heart’s content. The next morning, he’s out of sight when you wake up.

“Y/N,” she calls you firmly, “you know you can’t hide anything from us right?”

She nudges at Jimin who was distracted by something on his phone– and only then does he agree. He didn’t seem interested much and continued to scroll without paying you much mind.

“Hide what?” you genuinely question, not thinking much of it. You had nothing to hide and you already told her everything before. You don’t understand why Lea suspected you– nothing ever happened between you and Jungkook.

“You like Jungkook, don’t you?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“What? No. What are you even talking about?” you were surprised at her sudden accusation. You were more surprised that she somewhat knew about your feelings– she figured you out so quickly.

You never had time to sit down and think about what you felt for Jungkook. You didn’t know if you even liked him in the first place, but you knew you were attracted to him. Did it develop into a crush?

“You’re literally blushing, you like him,” she teases. Lea was angry at first that you didn’t tell her what was going on between you and Jungkook. She later figured out that you were just starting to figure out your feelings for each other– and now she was the biggest shipper.

You stay silent, a bit surprised but also because you are thinking about Jungkook.

You liked him. It’s been a while since you liked someone, and Jungkook was a good person. You liked him a lot. It’s crazy that you’re only realizing this now, even after you guys almost kissed. Although, you also weren’t sure what to do with the information– you were absolutely not going to say anything.

Wholeheartedly, you believed that your feelings would fade over time. You kind of had an inkling that Jungkook was interested, even just a little bit, but you didn’t want to act on it first. It was too scary to deal with these newfound feelings.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you genuinely like anyone for a long time. I think you should go for it,” she says in a soft tone– opposite from how she talked to you when she first found out about you and Jungkook.

It was your birthday today. You don’t normally celebrate it and if you do, it’d just be with a couple of friends and a cake. You weren’t one to initiate plans though, so now you’re stuck in the library studying.

You carefully sort your papers in piles to review and those you’ve already read over. You recite the topics over and over– from equilibrium equations to molecular structures. Chemistry was about to be the cause of your death and you know it. It’s insane how many concepts and rules you had to remember.

Sighing, you opt for a small break in order to use the restroom and finish your acai bowl. As soon as you finish the last bite, you leave your stuff in the study room and head out to use the bathroom.

When you come back, you see someone approaching you hastily, flashing a smile at you. It was a guy– the same guy you saw in the store. The same one you were trying to avoid. You were quick to react, already turning your head to refuse eye contact, hoping that he’d get the hint. But of course he doesn’t.

“Hey! Hey, wait up! I’m talking to you, man, wait-” he runs to you, catching his breath. He grabs your shoulder to turn you around, not even caring about you trying to slip away. You knew he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still weird how persistent he was being, even when you had already rejected him inside the store before you even met Jungkook.

He licks his lips, clearly a bit agitated that he had to chase you down to get you to pay attention. He runs his hand through his greasy hair before placing them both in his pockets. He had this creepy smirk on his face– making you wonder what he has to say next.

“You’re cute. What’s your number again? And don’t say no this time,” he says jokingly. He presses you to answer him by coming closer to you. He seems oddly bold for someone who’s already been rejected before. You wished that he’d just leave you alone.

He doesn’t seem to understand what no means and it was painfully obvious.

“No,” you answer firmly, “I already said no before.” You try your best not to sound scared despite the shakiness behind your voice. He was way too close now– trying to intimidate you with his height.

You look down, knowing that his facial expression turned serious. He’s angry, you think, and it makes you more nervous than you intend. His eyes narrow at you, wondering if you’re joking or not– his ego is so big he can’t even fathom your rejection.

As he opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it by pushing him away harshly. He almost meets the ground out of impact, surprised that you would respond with physical intrications.

Quickly, you gathered all your stuff– which you thankfully already organized before your break and stuffed it into the backpack. Zipping it up, you make sure nothing is left behind. You head out to the opposite exit from where you both met without looking back.

Later, you check your messages after taking a nap. You were surprised to see over four new texts and three missed calls, most from someone you didn’t know.

Unknown [07:14 pm]: You really think you’re all that, huh?

Unknown [07:15 pm]: Bitch

Unknown [07:37 pm]: Answer me

Jungkook [08:02 pm]: hey, you awake?

It didn’t take long for you to know who it was, and you ultimately just chose to block the unknown number. You hoped that he wouldn’t continue to bother you anymore. Instead, you replied to Jungkook and apologized for not responding sooner.

“Yeah, that bitch is in love with me,” he hangs his head back to laugh. He licks his lips, feeling like he’s the man for having an admirer. He dabs up one of his friends, hands sliding against each other’s in the process.

Jungkook didn’t mean to overhear– he was just passing by and happened to eavesdrop in their conversation. He didn’t expect to hear them talking about someone he knew, especially about someone he cared about.

When he heard your name, he immediately started listening closer. He knows it’s not good news if the person that was being creepy to you was talking about you.

“Man, I didn’t know Y/N was such a slut,” he hits his other friend in the arm jokingly. He grins stupidly and shakes his head, imagining you flirting with lots of guys. His friend told him that you were in love with him, evidently by the way you apparently clutched onto him during the party. He rambled on about how clingy you were and how much you liked him– confessing to him every time you saw him. It was clear that those were all lies, but his friends believed him anyway.

Jungkook was beyond angry. It was ridiculous how they made up rumors about you– and the guy’s friends believed it wholeheartedly too without even questioning it. He thinks about how they are treating you, speaking so loud and not even caring who hears about it.

He walks to his locker to have a reason to stay there for longer. He justifies it as wanting to know what they say about you and that he wouldn’t say anything about it. As his fists close in frustration, he thinks about his promise to himself to walk away and ignore them. But he couldn’t. After he heard them talking about how easy you were, he couldn’t help it.

His right fist hits the guy right in the jaw, knocking him out in just one blow. His friend only stares in shock, not having the guts to fight back for his friend.

“What the fuck?” the guy on the ground cracks his neck. He immediately stands back up, having the intention to return the favor to Jungkook. His friend holds him back by the arms, not letting him go.

As the situation dissipates, Jungkook chooses to just walk away. He doesn’t want to cause more problems, and he definitely doesn’t want you to know about this. Knowing you, you’d scold him and wouldn’t let him get away with it. He just knows that he won’t tell you what they said– and he won’t let you be all sad over it if you find out.

Ignoring the whimpers and yells behind him, along with the stares he was getting across the hall, he scurries to his next class– not caring about his reddened knuckles. He doesn’t even care about what he did because he did not regret it. You were his biggest concern right now.

You were confused and restless after hearing your friend, Lea, tell you about Jungkook’s incident with a boy from school. You only found out about it later that afternoon, and you didn’t even know what the fight was about. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was about you– especially since that’s the only thing you could link the creeper with.

But, why would he start a fight for you in the first place? What happened that made him feel the need to do something? You were confused and you needed answers.

You bite your lip in nervousness of Jungkook possibly getting into a fight because of you. You felt guilty about it– especially since the rumors were practically everywhere.

After a while of slouching around your couch with a blanket over you, you decided to do something about it. You put on a black hoodie and texted him to meet up.

You waited at the nearest playground where you sat and swung yourself back and forth, keeping your eyes locked on the mural in front. You shift your eyes from the painted soccer ball to the figures in the painting. You think the little kid in the painting kind of resembled Jungkook– with his coconut hairstyle and all.

“Hey,” he taps you on the shoulder, making you flashback to when you guys first met. You were a bit startled, almost forgetting about you calling him. He looks around awkwardly before sitting down on the swing next to you.

“Hi,” you weren’t sure how to start. You were the one to call him, yet you waited for him to talk first. You wonder if you were crossing a line– it isn’t his responsibility to tell you anything. Were you too nosy? You were suddenly doubting yourself and even considered just telling him nevermind and going home.

“Y/N, is this about what happened earlier today?” he glanced at you expectantly, knowing immediately what you called him for.

Your mouth slightly gapes, shocked that he’s already figured you out. You nod in response, looking down to the floor where your feet scrape the ground.

“I mean, what happened? I-I was just curious.”

“Well, you called me like it was an emergency,” he had a smug grin on his face, “Were you worried about me hmm?”

You scoffed, denying him as soon as he said that. You shake your head and narrow your eyes at him, turning around when you feel yourself smiling. He laughs at your cute reaction and reaches in to brush your hair away from your face. You blush even more when you feel his fingertips tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

Suddenly, he seems more nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

He clears his throat, “I-I like you, Y/N.” He licks his lips, waiting for your reaction.

For the second time today, you were shocked. First of all, you were definitely not expecting him to blurt it out just like that. You seriously contemplated leaving right then and there out of pure surprise, but you knew you couldn’t leave him hanging like that. You would regret it if you didn’t have time to share your feelings for him like he has for you.

You responded by grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips. It took a bit for him to finally comprehend that you were actually kissing him, but it was obvious he enjoyed it.

“I like you too, Jungkook,” you giggle, happy that he reciprocated your feelings. He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he was ready for it. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks and ears, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling. He was too cute.

When you stopped smothering each other with kisses, you just stared in each other’s eyes for a while before heading home together.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin ff #jungkook x oc #taehyung fluff #taehyung ff #bts fic #jungkook fic #taehyung x reader #bts ff

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lillsisamarshmallow · 2 days

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Moving day! (17)

Summary: Y/n spends the next week searching for a new house, and when she thinks luck has run out, something odd happens. Driving hybrids, polite agents, giant IKEA, being crushed by a falling mattress covered in plastic… who knew moving houses was so difficult.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: None! Let me know if I missed any!

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I sighed as I slowed the car down before the red light, taking a moment to rest my head in my hands, hoping to ease the stress that had been bubbling up inside me. It had been almost 2 weeks since we temporarily moved into Jisoo’s house, and we still weren't having any luck finding a new place. I was on my way back to the cafe from a viewing that I went to alone. That house definitely wouldn't work. I thought to myself, the photos were deceiving to what it actually was like, and the agent was really rude the whole time, rather than showing me around the house she kept taking photos in front of it, posing.

Rolling my eyes at how annoying the agent was, I grunted at the idea of another house being crossed out from the list. Let's just hope the next one is better. I tried to think positively about the next house as I started driving again. I was heading to the cafe to pick up Namjoon and Yoongi since it was their turn to come to one of the viewings and honestly this next house looked perfect, but I couldn't help the small voice in the back of my head that was whispering negative thoughts and making me doubt our chances with this house.

I pulled up in front of the cafe and made my way inside, I saw a few of our regulars and I gave them a welcoming smile as I made my way into the kitchen walking past Hobi and Jimin who were manning the register. I opened the door to see Jin and Yoongi cooking whilst Namjoon was taking drinks out from the cooler. I giggled as the sight of bright green caught my eye from the tape of the floor, the lines Namjoon and Taehyung weren't allowed to cross.

“Is it time?” Yoongi asked as he was the first to notice me. I nodded my head as I walked over and sat down on a stool while I waited for them to get ready to go. I watched as Yoongi untied his apron and lifted it over his head, making sure not to get it caught on his ears. He folded the apron neatly before telling Jin when to take the food out of the oven, to which the older man nodded. “How was the house you just saw?”

“Not great if I'm being honest.” I sighed before jumping off the small stool, I walked over to the plate of freshly baked almond croissants, I haven't eaten yet today, and I was starving. “It would have never worked, and I didn't like the agent lady.”

I heard Yoongi hum at my response from behind me. I quickly reached out and grabbed one of the delicious-looking croissants and stuffed one end into my mouth. I turned around and asked them if they were ready to go, but what was supposed to be a question came out as an incomprehensible mumble due to the pastry that was blocking my words. I watched as Yoongi gave me a gummy smile as he laughed and nodded his head, Namjoon walked over to us too with a smile on his face.

We walked through the cafe and out the front, saying goodbye to the others on our way past them. As we made our way outside Yoongi gestured for me to throw him the keys, which I gladly did. I was happy to take a break from driving. We all got strapped in the car and I gave Yoongi the directions and we set off to the next viewing.

I happily munched on my late lunch as I watched yoongi drive. I liked watching him drive, I couldn't explain why, but I couldn't drag my eyes away. I noticed that I had been caught by how he started smiling and glanced away from me and out his window. I blushed as I readjusted myself to sit up straight and look out my window. Large trees lined the road, the canopy almost fully covering over us, just allowing small patches of light to seep through the branches and their leaves.

The area looked serene and quiet, occasionally we’d pass a small turn, but our map said to keep going.

“The next left.” I said to yoongi as I looked at the GPS map on my phone that I had punched the address of the house into. Reaching the right turn we made our way down the very long, skinny driveway until the trees pulled back and opened into a field, and in the centre was a rather large wooden house, it had small garden beds in the front of the porch, but they had no plants in them, indicating that the place had been vacant for a while.

“Woah.” I whispered as the full house came into view, my mouth opened in shock, it looked amazing, better than the photos, it had 3 levels, the top being more of a covered seating area, it had a full wrap around porch outside and multiple stairs to get up to it.

The gravel crushed under the car wheels as Yoongi pulled off to the side to park the car. The 3 of us made our way over to the front of the house where there was an agent waiting with the keys and another handful of people who were also interested in the house.

The lady welcomed us all before unlocking the doors, allowing us to roam around on our own. The bottom level had the living room, laundry, kitchen, all the basic things and the second level had all the bedrooms. The kitchen was gorgeous, and I couldn't help but think of how much Jin would love it. There were two large common areas downstairs too.

My mouth was open for most of our self-guided tour, everything was so amazing and checked all of our boxes. I bounced around on the balls of my feet as I couldn't contain my excitement, Namjoon and Yoongi followed behind me. I could hear them chuckling at me and mumbling to each other, trying to remember everything so they could tell the others when we got back.

Making our way upstairs to the bedrooms the first one we walked into was the largest according to the map on the website.

“This would be your room.” I said to both of them we had a quick look around, it could definitely fit a large enough bed for them all. The next 3 rooms were all the same size, the ones that I had suggested would be used so the boys could have their own areas for hobbies and such. The last room was at the end of the hallway, and it was away from the others for a bit. We walked in and had a look around, it was the only room with its own bathroom. It wasn't as big as the first room, but it was bigger than the other 3. “And this would be my room.”

We kept looking around and everything seemed perfect. The backyard was large and even included a section of the woods surrounding the house. It had more garden beds on the side, presumably for veggies and similar things. I let the boys go and have their own look around while I leaned on the railing of the porch.

“This house is beautiful, right?” I looked to my side to see the agent lady lean down beside me, I smiled at her and relaxed in the informal atmosphere that she brought with her. She had long brown hair that was tied in a loose but professional bun at the back of her head, she looked over to me, her eyes were brown, and she wore pink lipstick. She was really pretty and oddly familiar. “My name’s Irene by the way.”

I stuck my hand out to shake hers as she introduced herself to me. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” I saw her eyes widen slightly at my introduction.

“Y/n?”

I nodded, I smiled as I looked back out into the yard. “It’s a very beautiful house, everything we were looking for actually.”

“Oh? Have you been looking for long?” She asked curiously.

“Just over a week, but we haven't had any luck yet.” I explained to her as I sat up to face her politely. “We’re staying with a friend for now, but we really need to find somewhere.”

She hummed at what I said before speaking. “Is it just the 3 of you?”

“Uhh- no. There’s 5 more of us. Hence why we need a big house.” I chuckled. We kept talking for a bit as we sat down on one of the seats, a few other people came up to her to ask some questions and a few people let her know that they weren't interested and headed out, but she didn't seem to mind.

Eventually the boys came back to me, and we were the last group to leave the house. I watched as Irene locked up and made her way down the stairs to stand near us. “Did you like the house?” She asked politely.

“Yep, it checked all of our boxes, I can't wait to tell the others about it.” I exclaimed as we began walking back to the cars.

“That's great! Well, I'll be sure to keep a look out for your application.” She grinned before winking my way, I still couldn't shake why she looked so familiar, she's probably just in a lot of ads or something. I nodded my head and laughed as we went our separate ways. The whole ride back to the cafe was just us discussing the house, what we liked, what we didn’t, whether or not the others would've liked it and if I should make an offer for it.

I was laying on the couch, my head propped up on Hoseok’s lap as Taehyung laid on my stomach with his body between my legs. We were all watching a movie in the living room. I don't remember what it was called, but I was constantly confused by how many things went unexplained. I moved my hands up to rest over my chest, the fabric being loose meant that I didn't have to worry about being tangled up in it. It was Seokjin’s jumper, or at least I think it was, I don't remember. The boys kept giving me their jumpers and jackets. I wasn't sure why, but I wasn't going to complain since they kept me warmer than my own jumpers and it reminded me of them.

The jumper was big on me which meant that I could snuggle my face into it, the scent of vanilla and cherry had ingrained itself into my nose as I breathed around the oversized jumper. I could barely keep my eyes open as I kept skipping bits of the movie accidentally. The main character was annoying and so was his love interest, but the others seemed to enjoy it.

I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket on the jumper under Taehyung's head. He lifted his head up slightly so I could reach into my pocket and grab the device. I mumbled a quiet ‘thanks’ before raising the phone up to my face. The light shone into my eyes making me squint, but after a few seconds they adjusted and I was able to see, as I read my top notification my eyes widened at what it was.

I gasped loudly as I sat up straight, I stared down at my phone rereading the notification, I heard a grunt as I realised that I had disturbed the big cat hybrid, he shuffled down more, his feet kicking into Yoongi as he moved his head to rest on my thigh instead. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly as I reached one hand to pet his ears and play with his hair. I smiled at him before moving my gaze back to my phone.

I opened up my email app so I could properly read the whole thing, my face lit up as I kept reading until the end. “Guys, I got the house.” I exclaimed as I quickly reread the email from the company again making sure I hadn't misread it.

“What? No way. It's only been a day.” Hobi said from behind me, to which I passed him the phone so he could also read the email. “You got the house?”

“We got the house!” I cheered as everyone joined in excitedly. “Irene must have said something.”

“Wouldn't that be weird, you only met her that day, right?” Namjoon asked from across the room. I thought about what he said. He was right, I had only met Irene that day and we didn't know each other that well, why would she do this? I wondered in my head, it wasn't like we knew each other or anything, just our conversation while we were at that house.

“Maybe she thought I was pretty?” I half joked with the boys, I was genuinely clueless as to why she might have put in a good word, maybe she didn't, maybe we were just lucky. The boys laughed at my statement as we all sat in the living room practically bouncing with excitement. Everyone was so happy that we were able to find a place and it made my heart swell as I watched them all talk about it, knowing that I had done well.

We discussed when to start packing up and when we would get everything moved in, we drew up another small basic map of the house and the boys started deciding who would share which rooms, some decisions were left up to a game of scissors, paper, rock, there was a lot of yelling.

Eventually, after deciding who was sharing which room, we all decided to think of a collective theme for the main area of the house and what types of furniture we would need. The house came with a few pieces of furniture, but we would have to buy a lot of our own and since Jisoo didn't have any room, I had to get rid of my old furniture. Which meant a trip to a furniture store to get everything.

I looked up at the big neon sign that was now slightly distorted from how close I was underneath it. The small trees and bushes outside were a vibrant shade of yellow and orange, which unfortunately did not match the building too well, but that didn't matter. The cold wind was strong today, and I tried to dig my hands further into my pockets to stop the cold from freezing them solid.

We all quickly made our way inside the giant store to get out of the cold weather, it wasn't even winter yet. I grumbled at how much I hated the cold weather, before remembering how beautiful it can be at the same time. The ground is covered in a white layer of soft snow, icicles hanging from trees, and intricate little snowflakes landing on your nose. I loved winter.

I was grateful when we got inside to realise that the store did crank their air conditioning all the way up like some places did. I sighed and took my hand out of the pocket of my puffy jacket that was laid on top of a jumper that was not mine, I rubbed my hands together quickly before taking a few steps further into the store. It was quiet and empty, not a lot of customers, not a lot of employees, the background music was low, and I could hear the rustle of leaves against some of the windows.

I saw an employee make his way over to us and ask his typical questions, but I let him know that I had it covered and then he went back to his seat behind the weirdly tall counter.

“Okay, game plan.” I said, turning around to face the troops and clapping my hands together. “What’s the game plan?”

“We should split up.”

“But what if we all choose different things? I’ve got the list.”

“Well, how about we stick together until we get most of the stuff, then we can split up and get the rest of it?” Jimin suggested. It was a reasonable idea, and for that reason, we chose to ignore it.

Everyone had ended up splitting and spreading out around the store, Namjoon had the list, and both me and Yoongi knew most of it off the top of our heads since we were the ones who made said list. I had gravitated over towards the bedroom section where I began to choose a bed from myself before someone walked around the corner.

“Oh? Hey, Y/n.” Taehyung said nonchalantly as he walked around the corner with Jungkook hot on his tail, I smiled at the 2 as I walked a few feet over to them. “Are you looking for a bed too?”

I nodded back at him as I spoke about one that had caught my eye earlier, but I wasn't dead set on anything. We continued to wander around for a bit, they both seemed to know what they were looking for, so I just tagged along behind them. Eventually we came to a wall and sat down in the corner of the room. It was the largest bed I'd ever seen, it would've fit at least 7 people, maybe even 9.

I watched as Taehyung and Jungkook raced for the bed before jumping onto it and laying down. I laughed at them as I ran to join them, the bed was soft and plush, and I basically sunk into it. I gasped at how great of a bed it was before I sat up onto my knees, making sure not to put my shoes on the display bed.

“This bed is humongous!” And it’s so soft too.” I exclaimed before flopping to the centre on my stomach, I could have fallen asleep right then and there. “I didn't even know they made beds this big.”

“They used to have a few of these back at the shelter.” Taehyung just so casually said before he rolled off the bed. Shelter? I thought to myself.

“The shelter?” I asked whilst trying to haul myself up off the almost too soft bed.

“Uhh-yeah. The one that me and Jungkook were at.” Taehyung spoke, almost like he was trying to correct a mistake. I didn't want to push as I noticed the 2 men become quieter, so I put the thought and my questions aside and walked over to the sign with the information for the bed. I scribbled the exact name down before leading the boys back to the normal beds so I could choose one.

“It’s perfect!” I exclaimed as I got off the 27th bed I'd tried. It had a white bed head that had small shelves in it, and intricate designs, the base had underneath storage and the mattress was amazing. “Welp, that’s the beds checked off the list, where to next?”

Eventually we found ourselves in the living room area of the shop, where we quickly ran into Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok, eliminating the couches they had already looked at, and we started walking down the isles searching. The boys made a point to try every single couch we passed and put on posh accents whilst they spoke about each couch. Yoongi and I stood to the side as we watched them play, discussing the different couches we saw and laughing at the others.

Soon enough we found the perfect couch, there were enough seats for everyone plus some, it was crazy comfortable and was a dark grey in colour. After adding it on to the list we figured, no, we hoped that Namjoon and Jin would have the other major items covered.

Safe to say that our shopping trip went smoothly, for the most part. Hobi got lost in the bookshelves, Namjoon broke a display lamp, Taehyung and Jungkook almost got us kicked out, and when we left, we accidentally picked up a random stranger thinking it was Yoongi, who was sleeping in the beds. We didn't realise until we were leaving the parking lot.

Today was going to be long… and stressful. I thought to myself as I looked back at the full car from the rearview mirror, but I couldn't help the smile on my face. The keys jingled in my hand as I looked down at them, a few plain silver keys. I made a mental note to get a few more sets cut for the boys and to buy us all different keychains, I grinned as I thought of some ideas.

I hesitated before twisting the key in the door, but finally it was unlocked, and I pushed the door open and walked into our new home. It had an old wood smell to it, it was comforting, but I couldn't wait until it smelled like home. We didn't have much time to gawk at the house as pretty soon the furniture trucks showed up and the workers started unloading things and we all had to move them to the right areas.

“Oh! That one goes over there!” I yelled out whilst pointing over to the kitchen, the worker nodded and started moving the box that way whilst I held back onto the large mattress in front of me and began pushing it again. The mattress was heavy, but I was able to make it to the foot of the stairs. I sighed out annoyed before a light shone down for the heavens, my saviour.

“Here Y/n.” Hobi said as he reached for the other end of the rectangle, I thanked him and smiled up the stairs towards him. With our teamwork we were able to get the mattress onto the stairs, he pulled, and I pushed as we worked our way up. We were about halfway up before disaster struck.

“Y/n?” I heard Namjoon call out from somewhere below me. I turned towards him and hummed out, hoping he would find me from my sound. “Oh, there you are.”

Namjoon smiled at me, his dimples showing which completely pulled my guard down. He gestured towards something that he was holding, like he wanted me to take a look. I walked down the stairs, completely forgetting about Hobi and the big mattress that was still halfway up the stairs.

I looked down at what he was holding as we both questioned the weird item that he had found, it was some statue. A chicken statue. The chicken looked like it was originally white, but it had years of dirt caked onto it, it had a brown, copper base with different carvings on it. It was a weird little thing, but it was also kind of cute. Absorbed by the small statue, I didn't hear Hoseok’s cries for help.

“Y/n? Y/n? Hello?”

“Y/n!”

“Y/N!”

I heard the banging as I turned back towards the stairs. I didn't have time to react as the mattress came tumbling down the stairs and towards me. It knocked me out, taking me down with it, just barely missing Namjoon who had stood next to me. Now he stood, confused, as he looked down at the mattress that laid flat on the floor, with me underneath it.

“Y/n!”

I grunted out as the light came back into my vision and I could breathe without inhaling the weird smell of plastic. I let my lungs fill with the fresh cool air as I tried to sit up, feeling two hands pushing my back and helping me. I could see the panic on their faces as they both looked down at me from their crouched positions next to me.

I laughed out as I shuffled slightly so I could sit more comfortably, I crossed my legs and held a hand to my chest as I caught my breath. I assured them both that I was okay, but when I went to pick the bed up again, they beat me to it. They both moved the bed upstairs and into my new room with me guiding them.

“We can just put it here for now.” I pointed over at the wall adjacent to my bathroom. “I haven't exactly decided how I’m going to set it up yet.”

I spent a few more seconds glazing around the room as I thought of different ways to decorate and move my furniture to fit the space, but I quickly dismissed the thoughts as we all headed back downstairs to help the others with the last of our boxes.

I flopped back onto our new couch, which was slightly harder than I'd like, but it was brand new. I sighed out loud as I lifted an arm over my head, resting my forearm across my forehead as I looked up. I felt the couch shift and dip slightly several more times, accompanied by several signs that fell in time.

“Who knew we'd need so many chairs.” I heard Taehyung whining from somewhere on the couch. I sat up and laughed slightly as I shook my head. I had a bit of a headache from all the pushing and pulling, my arms and legs felt like jelly, and my stomach felt as though it had been carved out with a spoon, but it was worth it.

I looked around me, the living room and kitchen were the only places that had been completely unpacked and decorated, most of the other rooms were still a bit bare and had brown cardboard boxes littered in them. The coffee table that sat in the middle had a small vase on it with some fresh flowers I made sure to pick up this morning, and it had a stack of coasters next to it and a small trinket dish.

This was the larger of the two open areas and so we decided to buy a tv for this room, I looked over to my left. The large black screen stood out against the wood texture of the walls. There were 2 large plants positioned either side of it, another trinket dish sat in front of it, underneath it was filled with a few movies and games along with organised cables and docks.

I smiled as I looked at the room that we had come together to create, I looked at the boys as they all took up different places on the couch, I couldn't help the smiling that spread of my face, or the burning that started as a spark in my heart before spreading to the rest of my chest. It hurt, but I could tell it was a good thing and so I embraced it as I sat and watched the boys. My boys

“Do you think we could plant flowers out the back?” Namjoon asked while looking over to me, I nodded my head before responding.

“Yeah! Flowers and maybe some vegetables too. We could set up an outside area too, with tables and chairs.” I exclaimed excitedly. We all continued to discuss random things about the house and what we could do with it, the boys even played a game of scissors, paper, rock to see who would share rooms.

The doorbell ringing was a pleasant distraction from our conversation, we all knew exactly what it was. We all got up and while me and Jimin headed to the door the others headed into the kitchen. I opened the door and smiled kindly at the delivery boy. I thanked him as I took the bags of food from him and handed a few over to Jimin to carry.

When we both got back to the lounge room the others had already bought us our own cutlery and bowls to eat from. The bags seemed to instantly get torn apart as I put them on the table. Within seconds I could hear the sounds of plastic lids being popped off containers and chattering as I took my seat between Jimin and Jin. The surface of the coffee table was now full of different takeaway containers that had various foods in them, my mouth watered at how good some of it looked.

“Let's dig in.”

I picked up some japchae and moved it over to my bowl, but before it fell down another pair of chopsticks stole it from me. I looked up to spot Jungkook grinning cheekily at me as he plopped my japchae into his bowl, I pouted at him and turned the other way, pulling the takeaway container closer to me to hopefully stop any future attacks on my food.

Finally, I was safely able to transport the food into my own bowl, I put the container back down before shuffling back into the couch and crossing my legs as I dug into the food. It was great, not too strong, a perfect balance of vegetables and noodles, I hummed out in joy, and I kept enjoying my food.

My attention was drawn away and a pair of chopsticks floated in front of me, dark, sticky noodles wrapped around them. I followed them over to Jin who looked at me kindly. He gestured for me to open my mouth, so I quickly swallowed the food in my mouth before opening it. Jin pushed the noodles into my mouth and I closed it so he could take the chopsticks out, I chewed for a bit before my face lit up as I faced him and nodded my head fastly, not being able to speak, I gave him a thumbs up and watched as he giggled lightly while looking at my full cheeks.

I finished my noodles and hesitantly looked over to Jin's bowl, I looked back up at him and he gave me an approving smile and I quickly dug my utensils into his bowl and took out some more of the noodles with the dark sauce on them. I chewed on them happily and I sat up straight and looked around. I was swaying side to side lightly in my position, a side affected by good food.

Jimin leaned over to me and pinched some of the food from my bowl, I looked over to him and he chewed on it, his cheeks puffed out full of the food and his lips pursed tightly as he chewed. He seemed to be thinking about the food before he swallowed and gave me a bright smile, his eyes creasing until I could no longer see them.

I took that as him enjoying the food and I smiled back at him before I looked in his bowl, he had some kimchi in his. I looked across from us on the other couch, Hobi and Yoongi sat close to each other, Hobi had his legs on the couch, perched up near his chest. They seemed deep in conversation and passed the food between each other, sharing. I smiled at the both of them as I looked over to the two youngest pack members and Namjoon, who were all watching the tv intensely, completely focused on what every movie they had out of.

Jungkook sat in the middle, him and Namjoon eating from the same bowl that seemed to have more noodles in it, Taehyung had his own bowl with various foods in it, but no kimchi. I unfortunately wasn't able to order a less spicy one for him and myself, but that was fine because we had a lot of other options.

Jin put another mouthful of noodles in front of me which I gladly accepted as I smiled happily, still slightly swaying side to side, but the boys didn't seem to mind it. The night continued on as we all sat together in the lounge while we ate our first dinner in our new house. At some point I had given up on getting my own food as Jin seemed pretty content with giving me food from his bowl, and honestly, I didn't mind.

The sky became deep dark with small specks of sparkling stars, silent except for the rustle of leaves and the happy chirping of the crickets, the sky was clear, and the air felt fresh. I said goodnight to the boys as I retired into my own room, I looked around the empty box. I hadn't finished unpacking, my mattress was laid on the floor with a few blankets and pillows and a small lamp beside it.

The covers felt foreign to my skin as I pushed my bare legs under them, the bottom of my shorts riding up ever so slightly. I punched the pillows until it was soft enough and I laid my head to rest on top of it. I nuzzled further into it and wriggled my body trying to get used to it. I reached out and shut off the small lamp, enclosing the room in a blanket of darkness with only the low glow of the moonshine peering through the curtainless windows.

I sighed out as I tried to put my mind to rest, I tried counting sheep, mathematical equations, making up silly stories, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep despite the tiredness that embedded itself into my bones. I opened my eyes again and grounded as I turned the small lamp on again, a warm glow now accompanying the moonlight. I sat up before flopping back down again, moving my position slightly so I was now laying on my back. I started up at the empty ceiling.

I looked side to side as I wondered why I couldn't sleep. A weird feeling had entered my chest since I came in here and it felt heavy. Emptiness. The room felt empty, a large room with nothing to fill it, loneliness. It wasn't a feeling that I was fond of, it was the type of feeling that would haunt me at night and allow my greatest fears to invade my mind and destroy me.

And for that reason, I had to get up.

I sat up abruptly and with a bounce in my step I hopped over to my door and switched the light switch before turning around to face my room. I had all my boxes labelled and separated into different groups in different areas of my room. I thought this feeling was coming from my unusually empty room, so I started to unpack my things. I popped in my earphones before I got started, pressing play on my playlist.

First, I put together my bed frame. I must have moved it 13 times before deciding on a location. I covered it in my sheets and blankets and topped it off with my pillows in a fancy way. I unboxed all of my clothes and started organising them into my closet. Next was the bathroom, shampoo, conditioner, towels, soap, everything I needed. Then came my desk, my drawers, a few posters, a carpet, I hung up some cute fairy lights too, accompanied by some fake vines and flowers, and a few real plants around the room too. Until eventually I had spent the early morning unpacking. The sun shining into my room made it look beautiful, but I was too tired to realise.

A/n: New chapter! A little late (I’m posting this as I eat my sushi 🍣) but I hope it’s worth it. The furniture store is suppposed to be an IKEA, but like, I’ve never been to one so idk what they are like. Anyways, I hope everyone is doing well, thank you all so much for 800 followers! (Wtaf??? 😭 ilysm !! 🫶💜). It’s kinda weird how quickly Y/n and the boys got their house, right?

Wonder why that is… 🤔

Oh well! 🤭 Hope everyone has a great day or night, and a lovely weekend! Thank you all so much for reading! 💜💜💜

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chimcess · 2 days

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Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us.

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot.

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine.

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count.

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog.

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming.

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them.

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen.

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again.

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car.

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend.

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off.

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house.

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around.

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos.

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin.

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine.

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks.

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle.

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one.

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display.

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets.

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is.

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either.

“What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?”

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time.

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house.

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked.

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me.

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify.

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better.

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention.

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely.

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy.

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had.

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough.

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied.

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway.

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin.

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick.

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped.

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better.

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either.

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him.

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend.

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address.

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin.

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to.

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before.

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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