bangtan-oasis

[bangtan-oasis]

Timezones | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: a little angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, Non-Idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of illness (not specified), mentions of ill parent, a very soft Jungkook and reader dealing with sudden long distance, special guest appearance by Bam, yes there is a noraebang and fried chicken because last week's lives honestly felt like something a fanfic writer wrote, sorry if this makes you sad but I needed to write it

Word Count: 1.4K

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Only thing that keeps us apart / Is a different timezone

A/N: I'm never getting over Jungkook's lives from last week. The absolute boyfriend vibes, combined with me listening to "Timezones" by Måneskin today, led me to write this. Thank you @sugalaritae for lending me your talented eyes!

I didn't specify what country reader is meant to be from, just that their family at one point while they were a child lived several time zones from where they lives now, long enough for them to think of it as their childhood home.

There are some things going on in my life that have inspired some of the plot, so… I hope when the time comes that you have to deal with such things, you have someone like Jungkook here to support you. It makes all the difference in the world. 💕

The notification comes in at a little past noon. You stare at it for a second before tapping the screen. A familiar pair of brown eyes come into frame, blinking slowly beneath a cloud of dark fluffy hair.

"Koo? Why are you awake?"

"Hi, baby," Jungkook grins, deflecting your question with the sweetness of his smile. His head rests on his tattooed forearm as he gazes at you. "Miss you."

The words make you sigh, releasing a tension you didn't even realize you were holding. Carrying your phone into your bedroom, you sink down onto the mattress of your childhood bed. "I miss you, too."

It's been over a week since you said goodbye at the airport. Eight days, six hours, and thirteen minutes, to be precise. Every tick of the clock sends that number higher and higher.

"I was just thinking about you. Wanted to check in. How're you feeling?"

You shrug, burrowing deeper into the pillows. "I'm okay. Woke up late. Just killing some time before the appointment this afternoon."

He hums, nodding. Your boyfriend opens his mouth and then closes it again. You know what he wants to say, but he doesn't need to. You know he'd be here with you if he could.

This trip came up unexpectedly. But that's how it always goes when a parent gets sick. Everything's fine until it's not. It was easy enough for you to drop everything and fly halfway around the world, but Jungkook's just starting his career now, after a long period of false starts and dead ends. He didn't have the time banked and you weren't about to ask him to give up his job to come home with you.

Home. There's that word again. It's disorienting, being back in the place where you grew up, and feeling like you're somewhere new. So little has changed here, yet it feels completely unfamiliar. Home is now several time zones away.

Home is where he is.

Jungkook's voice pulls you back to the tiny device in your hand. "What time is it there?"

"Just past noon." You don't ask him what time it is, fully aware that it's the middle of the night there. "Why are you still up?"

"Eh, got home a while ago from drinks with Jin-hyung and was hungry, so I got fried chicken. Now I'm too full to sleep."

You give him a look. "How many times do I have to tell you, you can put some of that in the fridge? You don't need to eat it all in one sitting!"

Jungkook scrunches his nose in delight at your reaction. "I know I don't need to. I want to."

You just roll your eyes in defeat. It's not a new topic of discussion. Your boyfriend has a big appetite.

There's a gentle clicking sound from offscreen, nails tapping on hardwood, and then a big brown nose pops into frame as Bam puts his head on his dad's arm, wanting to know what he's looking at. Bam's technically your dog, too, since the two of you adopted him when you'd moved in together three months ago, but you're not a fool. He's Jungkook's baby.

"Bammy!" you coo, and Jungkook tilts the phone so Bam can see your face. His tail whips Jungkook's side in his frenzy. "Hi Bammy, I miss you!"

"Bam's been such a good boy, keeping me company while you're gone, haven't you?"

Jungkook buries his nose in Bam's face while planting kisses on the dog's snout, and you laugh when he sniffs the dog. Someone else might find it weird, but you're used to his sensitive nose. He's always sliding up behind you in the kitchen or bathroom and pressing his face against the back of your neck to inhale deeply. You stopped wearing perfume at his request, when he told you how much he loves your natural scent.

Right now, you'd give anything to feel his arms around you and hear that little snff snff up close. Your sigh is a little louder than you intend, because it draws Jungkook's focus away from his dog.

"You okay, baby?"

"I am. Really. I should… I should probably eat something." Food always helps. It's one of the things your father taught you. "Keep me company while I make lunch?"

Jungkook grins again, twirling something in his hand. "How about I do you one better?" he asks, and you realize he's holding his karaoke mic, and likely has been this whole time, just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. "Any requests?"

As you warm up your leftover takeout, Jungkook serenades you with a selection of your favorite songs. He incorporates little bits of choreo in some of the performances, like the risqué moves he does while crooning "Unholy" that make you choke on your rice. As always, his sweet tenor makes your heart flutter while he effortlessly riffs his way through a private little noraebang, just for you.

When your lunch is done, you sit in your father's old armchair, tucking your legs up on the sagging cushion. Jungkook's eyes are closed as he sings, and you know he's lost in the music. It's one of the things you love most about him, the way he gives his all to whatever he's doing. No matter what it is, he's always committed. Devoted.

You're so lucky to have him.

"Koo," you finally say when he pauses to pour himself a beer. "Baby. It's so late there. As much as I'm loving this concert, you should get some sleep." As a graphic designer, he works from home, so he doesn't have to wake early for a commute, but he's still human. He still needs sleep.

He fiddles with his frosted mug, pushing it back and forth on the table by where his phone is propped. "I know. I just… I don't like sleeping in our bed without you. It doesn't feel right." He frowns, dark brows knitting together in a look of anguish. "It doesn't feel like home when you're not here."

The last bit of tightness in your muscles dissipates as you melt at the heartache in his voice. "Oh, babe, I wish I could be home with you right now. Take you to bed, wrap my arms around you, and cuddle you to sleep."

"I wish you were here, too." The stars in his eyes seem dimmed by the sadness that hangs there. "And I'm - I'm sorry that I couldn't be ther-"

"I know, babe. I know." He falls silent at your gentle interruption. You've never hated the miles between you more than this very moment, wishing you could hold him close. Knowing he feels the same. "But this, you calling me like this to check in on me, singing to me - this means so much."

"Be better if I could hold you."

"Mmm. True." You smile playfully, chest warming when he smiles back just a little. "But don't worry. Even though you're there and I'm here, I still - I still feel your love." Of the two of you, he's the crier. But you find yourself swallowing thickly around your words. "So thank you."

Jungkook nods, letting his chin fall to his forearm again. "I'm always here, baby, any time you need some love. Time zones can't keep us apart."

"I know." You mirror Jungkook's position, watching his eyelashes flutter as exhaustion finally seems to hit him. "I love you, Koo."

"Love you too. Let me know how the appointment goes."

He yawns, and in the corner of the screen you see Bam curling up next to him on the couch. As soon as you end the call, you know they're going to fall asleep right there together.

"I will. Go get some sleep, babe."

He murmurs something that sounds like a very sleepy goodnight, and then the call disconnects. The screen fades to black, but in your mind you still see his soft smile.

Stretching, you peel yourself out of your father's chair. The appointment you have today is the one you've been dreading, but you'll be okay. In just a few more days, you'll be back home.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

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© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[bangtan-oasis]

A Place For Us (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): angst! and fluff

au(s): established relationship, parents au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: Seokjin and OC are older (late 40s/early 50s), being a parent is hard, moody teenagers, revelations, mentions of infertility, words are exchanged, lots of crying, doubts and insecurities about relationships, flashbacks, making up (happy ending yay!), brief makeout session at the beginning

rating: pg-15 (the OTR universe is 18+)

summary: It’s always on the most momentous occasions that things fall apart - but with some luck, love is always enough to bring people back together.

a/n: Happy 1 year anniversary to OTR! I’ve had this drabble in my head for quite some time, and I shed so many tears writing it. It’s pretty angsty, but really special to me (and you get to meet the newest member of the Kim family!). The title of this is inspired by my absolute favorite book, A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza. Nothing I write will ever come close to it, but please go and read it right now (the drabble can wait). I hope you enjoy!!

glossary: olchaeng-i (tadpole)

Seokjin darts his eyes nervously between the two options - black tartan or blue paisley, and feels pain shoot up between his eyebrows. Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was finally time to go see the eye doctor after you’d begged him for weeks.

He hears the door close softly behind him, and your telltale perfume waft into the room, the warmth of your arms wrapping around his back.

“I don’t know why you even bother, you always pick blue,” you whisper into his ear, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

Keep reading

[bangtan-oasis]

Movie Night (Hoseok x OC)

Summary: Hoseok hosts movie night, but finds he can’t concentrate with all the flirting.

Pairing: Hoseok x OC

Genre: Humour, unreolved issues, hints of angst

Word count: 5.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Alcohol, spoilers for the movie Get Out!

A/N: Took me a while but my favourite children are back :') Contains one of the first scenes of theirs I ever envisioned. This fic takes place approximately four months after Double Take, about a week after Stranger Things. Can't wait to hear what you guys think <3

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore, @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “should i stay or should i go” by the clash

hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

A phone call wakes Chanyeol up before his alarm does.

Clearing his throat as his eyes stay shut, he fumbles for his phone on the hotel bedside table and answers it. “Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up? Listen, you’re coming over today, right?” Hoseok asks, without waiting for a response to his first question.

It takes Chanyeol a couple of seconds to process these many words. “What?”

“Today,” repeats his best friend patiently. “You’re coming over?”

“Uh - yeah.” He frowns, rubbing at his eyes. “Why?” 

“Just checking.”

“No, why as in, why are you calling and not texting?”

“I did text you, but I didn’t hear back.”

“Yeah, because it’s -“ Chanyeol moves the phone away from his ear to squint at the screen “- eight in the morning on a Saturday. Dude, what are you even doing up?”

“Dance practice,” supplies Hoseok. “Anyway, I wanted to check with you…” There’s a pause while his voice trails away, sounding uncertain.

Chanyeol frowns, brain still fuzzy. “I know your address. You texted it to me.”

“No, I know…” Hoseok clears his throat. “I was wondering if I should invite your sister.”

No part of that sentence makes sense to Chanyeol in this context. “My sister?”

“Yeah… wait, you know she’s in Seoul, right?”

He scoffs, sitting up slightly now and wincing as he straightens his back. “She let me in on it, yeah. I was going to have lunch with her today. How do you know she’s in Seoul?” Something occurs to him then. “Wait, did she call you or something?”

“No, I ran into her a couple months ago.”

“Where?”

“The - the grocery store. Anyway, my point is,” he continues quickly, “now that I know she’s here - and you’re here - should I invite her?”

“Um, I dunno. It’s your house, man.”

“Right.”

When Hoseok says nothing else, Chanyeol frowns. “Since when do you hang out with my sister, anyway?”

“Since never. It’s just, you know, polite. Since I ran into her and everything,” he explains. “And because you’re her brother. I mean, you have lunch with her and then leave to come over to my place when she knows I’m here - and she knows that I know she’s here -“ Hoseok exhales, and Chanyeol can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“You know, she’s not going to care,” says Chanyeol slowly. “She probably has plans already.”

“Oh. How - how do you know?”

“Because she’s had plans every single weekend since she turned sixteen.” He has no idea where this conversation is going. “But like I said: it’s your house. You do whatever you want.”

“Yeah.” Hoseok is quiet for a moment, and Chanyeol can tell he hasn’t heard a single word. “Alright, cool,” he says after a few seconds. “I’ll see you later today. Bring beer. And about Chaeyoung - you’re probably right.”

“Sure I am,” yawns Chanyeol, already sinking back into bed.

“Yeah, like, it would be polite to call her but if she’s got plans - I mean, I wouldn’t want to put her out -“

“Exactly,” he mumbles against his pillow.

“Maybe if you were moving to Seoul or something - but let’s not overthink this too much…”

The next thing Chanyeol knows, he wakes up to the sun streaming brightly into his room and his phone still in his hand. He vaguely remembers speaking to Hoseok; just to check that he hasn’t missed something important, he brings the phone up and checks his notifications to see one message from his best friend.

You know what? Just text me her number.

—

Hoseok ends up giving Chanyeol a lift to his house, when it turns out that the latter’s hotel is less than ten minutes away from the studio. 

“- heard that I couldn’t sleep so they gave me - and get this - specialty foam pillows, because apparently that’s a thing now -“

Hoseok guffaws as he pulls into his building. “Did they help? Like, should I get a bunch for my house?”

“I mean, they were soft,” allows Chanyeol.

“That’s what made them special?”

“No, they had some weird vibrator thing inside.” When Hoseok raises his eyebrows, Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t like that, dumbass.”

“Hey, I believe you. No wonder you didn’t get my texts.”

“That and the jet lag,” allows Chanyeol, unstrapping himself as the car switches off. “But I’m all well-rested now.”

“Good. I invited a couple of my friends over, too. That’s cool, right?”

“Sure. Like I said: I got my sleep and I’m ready to, like -” He makes a vague gesture with his hands and moves his neck around “- party.” When Hoseok snorts, Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Knock it off, not all of us are professional idols.”

“There’s an unprofessional kind?” Hoseok chortles at his own joke while his best friend clicks his tongue, punching his shoulder as they enter the apartment. “Beer’s in the fridge. I have soju and vodka, too, if you want it.”

“Vodka? It’s four pm.”

“Yeah, but you’re ready to party.”

“Not if it’s a party of one,” disagrees Chanyeol, making his way over to the fridge and emerging with a can of Budweiser. “I’ll wait for your friends before I start getting shitfaced. Or I’ll wait until it gets dark,” he adds, shrugging.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” says Hoseok slowly, leaning sideways against the TV cabinet as Chanyeol settles on the couch, “I invited your sister.”

To his surprise, Chanyeol chuckles. “Yeah, she told me. She was even more surprised than I was.”

“She - oh.” He frowns. “Okay. Why?” When his best friend simply raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, okay, I know why, but… do you think it’s that weird that I did? I mean, I ran into someone from my childhood and then her brother comes over to my house a couple months later - wouldn’t it be rude not to call her?”

Chanyeol seems to think it over before sighing. “You know, you’re right? And if it were anyone else, I’m sure none of us would give it a second thought.”

“But she was the annoying kid that lived next door,” finishes Hoseok, rolling his eyes. “That was, like, a hundred years ago. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she is, too. I mean, she is coming, after all.”

“Huh.” It hadn’t occurred to Hoseok until this moment that he was worried at all that she wouldn’t. But there’s a strange sort of relief at the confirmation from Chanyeol himself, that somewhere out there, his best friend’s sister isn’t mad at him anymore.

Hoseok hadn’t given Chaeyoung much thought since he’d run into her at the liquor store; not because he didn’t care, but because the majority of his mind space in those few months had been at the studio, and the rest on rehearsals. Still, it had been nice to see her - a blast from his past that, he’d realised only later, was a pleasant reminder of the families he missed so much.

It hadn’t even occurred to him to mention the chance meeting to Chanyeol. An insane part of him felt like he was helping her hide something; the fact that she was in Seoul, and in a liquor store no less, was far too incongruous for him to wrap his mind around. Chanyeol, he felt, would probably burst a blood vessel if he knew. 

Besides, Chanyeol had been in Tokyo for the last two years, working for an investment bank that sucked the very life and soul out of him; the last thing he needed was to worry about his sister. Hoseok hadn’t considered reaching out to her again, though, not until Chanyeol mentioned he was visiting Seoul and Hoseok had remembered with a jolt that he’d been a horrible friend for not looking out for little Chaeyoung while her brother was overseas. 

So, it seemed only natural that he should invite Chaeyoung as well. Just the image of both siblings at lunch, the younger one mentioning how she’d run into Hoseok months ago, Chanyeol’s confusion at why they’d never spoken again, him coming over and demanding an explanation, Hoseok stuttering about his busy schedule, Chanyeol shouting tearfully that he’d betrayed him on every level, a vase smashing somewhere -

No, it was better that he invited her before things escalated. After all, she’d been perfectly pleasant at the liquor store and there was nothing to say that, given time, they might not become good acquaintances themselves. He���d called Jimin and Jungkook over for this exact reason; he figured Chaeyoung might be more comfortable with people closer to her own age. Taehyung had been invited as well but he’d declined, and given recent events, Hoseok hadn’t pushed. 

Jimin and Jungkook arrive soon. There’s some initial whispering in the hall, where Jimin mutters with exasperation that he hadn’t quite tried to bring Taehyung along, and Jungkook anxiously asks Hoseok if Chanyeol is “nice”.

“Just - get in there,” instructs Hoseok, steering them into the living room where Chanyeol is sitting on the edge of the couch, talking into his phone. He raises a hand in greeting and apologetically mouths “sorry”, leaving Hoseok to watch as his band members dive for his alcohol stash.

Introductions take place after that; there’s a bit of small talk that follows it, about work, about Tokyo, about what Hoseok hyung was like before Bangtan. Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but there’s a definite awkwardness in the air that seems to be stemming from nothing in particular. He tries his best to intervene and bring the topic to something as neutral as possible, but eventually he’s forced to admit that idols and investment bankers may not have much in common at all.

Chanyeol, for all his talent, has always been a bit of an introvert, enough that he looks for others to usually lead a conversation - indeed, Hoseok had always been his consummate extroverted friend. Jimin he can tell is trying to be as normal and welcoming as possible, but something seems to be troubling him. Hoseok makes a mental note to ask him about it. On the other corner of the couch, Jungkook sits quietly, eyes wide and curious as he takes in the awkward conversation and chuckles appropriately.

This goes on for nearly twenty minutes. Now under pressure to turn this evening around, Hoseok is just about to propose selecting the movie when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” he says, standing up with a flourish and striding halfway across the living room while the others are still turning their heads. Hurrying into the hall, he turns automatically to glance into the ornate mirror by the door and runs a hand through his hair to flatten it, when he stops. It occurs to him all of a sudden who might be on the other side of that door and before he can think about it, he ruffles his hair and turns to open the lock.

“Hey,” says Kang Chaeyoung, a handbag hanging from one forearm and a wine bottle in the other hand. On her head is a beret, a navy blue one that matches perfectly with the blouse under her white jacket. She frowns and cocks her head to the side, apparently at the low voices from inside. “Sorry… am I late?”

“No, not at all,” he replies, stepping aside to let her in. A faint scent of perfume wafts up as she enters, unzipping her boots in the corner. 

“Oh, uh - this is for you.” She hands him the bottle. “It’s a Chardonnay,” she explains, “but a nice, fruity one.”

Hoseok waits for her to continue but when she doesn’t, he nods once. “Wow. Um, you - you didn’t have to bring this,” he says, recalling how Jimin and Jungkook had strolled in, comfortably empty-handed, and Chanyeol had been punching him in the shoulder when he’d arrived.

Chaeyoung frowns. “Isn’t that what people do? Bring wine when they go to someone else’s house?”

Yeah, adults do. But he doesn’t say it, still reeling from the fact that every interaction he’s now had with her in Seoul has been in the midst of alcohol. He can’t help but wonder if she’s too young to be frequenting this much booze, but Chaeyoung snaps him out of that train of thought.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Hoseok looks up at her, now with her hands folded across her chest. He shakes his head immediately. “No, of course you didn’t. This was very nice of you,” he says sincerely, holding up the bottle. “Thanks.”

She returns his smile tentatively and follows him as they head inside. In the living room, the scene seems to be just as bleak as it had been two minutes ago, until Chanyeol and Jungkook spot the new guest. 

“Everyone, this is -”

“Hi, I’m Chaeyoung,” she says brightly, making Hoseok’s attempt at an introduction moot. Jungkook, who’s already stood up, bows and stutters his name as well. Behind him, Jimin stands up and flashes her a sparkling smile. 

“Hi, I’m Jimin. Hyung, you didn’t say someone else would be joining us as well,” he says, turning to Hoseok.

He narrows his eyes. “Didn’t I? My mistake,” he says, shrugging, for the truth is that he had no way of knowing if Chaeyoung would actually turn up. “Chae - I mean, Chaeyoung is Chan’s sister.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s head whips between both siblings as Chaeyoung takes a seat on the armchair next to him. “How much - I mean, what’s your age gap?”

“Four years,” supplies Chanyeol. “It’s started to seem like less, though, lately. No?”

She chuckles, taking off her jacket. “Only to you, oppa.”

“You two actually look quite similar,” remarks Jimin. “Except you’re…” He trails off as he looks at Chaeyoung and scrunches his face, clearly embarrassed. “You have longer hair,” he finishes.

“I’m going to keep this inside,” pipes up Hoseok then, holding up the wine. “Anyone want anything? Chae?”

Chaeyoung considers this, therefore missing the interested looks that Jimin and Jungkook give Hoseok. “I’ll have wine,” she decides. Jungkook asks if he can have another beer, and Hoseok silently nods and heads into the kitchen.

As he begins gathering the drinks, uncorking the wine and bustling around with the cans of beer in the fridge, he hears a burst of laughter from the living room that makes him freeze. He frowns, terribly confused, for until five minutes ago it looked like it would take something groundbreaking to liven the evening.

Hoseok tiptoes across the kitchen and slowly peers into the living room, afraid to breathe lest he ruin the mood. It occurs to him that he might be being rather dramatic, but it’s only because out of all the things that could have livened up the evening, Chaeyoung hadn’t been his bet.

“Here’s your drink.” He hands it to her a minute later, feeling his face flush unexpectedly when she smiles and takes the glass from him.

“So all three of you were friends when you were younger?” Jimin asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs.

“These two were,” answers Chaeyoung, pointing at Chanyeol and Hoseok.

“So were you,” says her brother, being, in Hoseok’s opinion, quite generous.

She gives him a look. “Was I? Really think about it, oppa.”

Chanyeol simply smiles bashfully while Jungkook nods beside her. “My brother never used to let me hang out with his friends either,” he says knowingly. 

“We let you hang out with us,” disagrees Hoseok, somewhat uncertain. “I mean, not all the time,” he allows, “but once in a while. Right?”

Chaeyoung shrugs easily. “Eh, it’s not important,” she says dismissively, waving a hand. “We got a life eventually,” she chuckles, glancing at Jungkook who grins.

“Should we pick the movie?” Hoseok asks abruptly, clapping his hands and grabbing the remote from the coffee table. He opens Netflix and hands the remote to Chanyeol, who begins flipping through the menu.

“We’re watching horror, yes?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Ah, I love horror,” agrees Jungkook, snorting at Jimin’s doubtful expression.

“I don’t mind horror,” says Chaeyoung, positioning herself comfortably and facing the television. She leans over to pick up a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table as she looks at the screen. “Oh, not Train To Busan, though. Seen it too many times.”

“Yeah, no, we’ll look for something else…”

“We can watch Godzilla,” suggests Jimin hopefully.

“It’s supposed to be scary, hyung…”

“It is scary! Jin hyung got scared watching it, too.”

“Everything scares Jin hyung,” says Jungkook dismissively. “Oh, we can watch Get Out! I haven’t seen it since it came out.”

“Me neither,” says Chaeyoung, nodding. “A classic. Has everyone here seen it, though?”

“Yup,” says Chanyeol.

“I haven’t,” mutters Jimin. He turns to Hoseok beside him on the couch. “You haven’t seen it either, have you?”

“Er… no.” Hoseok frowns, scrolling through his phone. Nothing about a horror movie sounds like fun to him, but he’s ready to give it a shot if everyone else wants to. “It’s just… are we sure we want to watch it? I mean, Chaeyoung,” he says, watching her as she turns to look at him curiously. “Don’t you… not like horror movies? I was just reading about it and -”

“You what?” Her jaws drops open and she huffs. “You read about it? Oppa, you just ruined it for yourself!”

“No! I didn’t - I didn’t read the movie. I just read, like, the synopsis,” he explains hurriedly, ignoring how she rolls her eyes. “And it seems really scary.”

“Oh, don’t worry, hyung,” chimes Jungkook, shaking his head reassuringly. “It’s not any blood and gore or anything. It’s just… you know. Slow and…” He frowns deeply, trying to think of the right words to express the exact type of horror in this film.

“Slow, unsettling and debilitating fear throughout,” supplies Chaeyoung, her amusement clear.

Hoseok nods, not trusting himself to speak. “Oh. That’s - that’s… just fantastic. But, um… I thought you didn’t like horror movies.”

She frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the last time we all watched a scary movie together, you ran out of the theater crying and locked yourself in the women’s bathroom,” he points out. “You didn’t come out until your dad threatened to take away your toy jewellery box.”

Chaeyoung gasps, her eyes unfocused as she apparently tries to remember. “Wait, you mean when we watched The Host? Oppa, I was nine.”

“Yes, and that kind of experience can traumatise a child,” he says wisely.

“Maybe, but I’m not one of them.” She gives him a look. “Are you sure you want to watch this movie?”

The answer is a resounding no, and it’s a testament to how much he hates horror movies that even a girl who’s only ever been in the peripheries of his life, knows this. 

Still, his response is to give her a look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because even though I cried and ran away and what have you,” she begins, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair to lean towards him, “I also remember you jumping so hard you spilled your popcorn all over the ground.”

Hoseok feels himself flush again as Jimin lets out a tinkling laugh. “That’s pretty on-brand for Hoseok hyung.”

“Really?”

“I just meant -”

“Dude, we watched that Japanese horror movie and made it,” points out Chanyeol. “Get Out really isn’t that bad.”

“Exactly; even Jimin hyung won’t get that scared in this one -”

“I’m not the one who -”

“Okay, fine,” interrupts Hoseok loudly. “I wasn’t actually complaining about the movie. I was just… being mindful pf my guests.” He gives Chaeyoung a sideways glance.

She raises her eyebrows. “Who, me? I’m good.”

“Fine.”

“Yep.”

There’s a pause before Chanyeol speaks. “So are we watching the movie or what?”

“I’m good with whatever the host wants.”

“And I’m good with whatever my guests want.”

“How does that answer my question?”

“Just press play,” Hoseok sits back on the sofa and hopes he isn’t coming off as too disgruntled. Next to him, Chanyeol chuckles and obliges, looking terribly amused. “Shut up,” he mutters, leading his friend to let out a laugh that he immediately disguises as a cough.

The movie begins and the group descends into a state of cautious concentration. Despite the lights not being dimmed out, Hoseok can start to feel the stress of having to make it through a scary movie. He really doesn’t like them; he hoped his point of contention had been hint enough to Chaeyoung, but apparently he wasn’t clear enough - or, true to form, she did what she wanted to get what she wanted, and everyone else followed suit.

When the first jump scare occurs, he squeezes his eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Seokjin were here…

Think about something else, anything else. He tries to recall dance practice this morning. Everyone had picked up the steps by now and their choreography was finally coming together. Namjoon still needed to work on the counts in the first chorus, though, and Taehyung was missing the same beat in the bridge every time. Jungkook was excellent as usual, but even he needed to regulate his energy to save it for the dance break… 

A sound pulls him out of this focused train of thought. It’s persistent, and sounds a lot like whispering. Turning slightly, he glances past Jimin to see Jungkook on the other corner of the sofa, his head tilted towards Chaeyoung’s as they point at the screen and murmur. Hoseok can’t make out what they’re saying, but spots Jungkook smiling slightly and nodding.

It gives Hoseok a bad feeling. The two of them whispering to each other about the movie only reminds him that he hasn’t seen it, meaning he has no idea how much more terrifying it’s going to get. Besides, now that he’s noticed the whispering, all he can hear is the whispering. It’s vaguely distracting, and he wonders why Chanyeol isn’t telling her to cut it out.

It doesn’t seem as though he’s noticed, though. Neither, for that matter, has Jimin.

“Hyung?”

Hoseok jumps a little. “What?” he mutters, turning to Jimin and trying to ignore how his heart feels like it’s about to detach from his chest. 

“Can I get another drink?”

“You know where the beer is,” whispers Hoseok. “Help yourself.”

“Okay. You want anything?” 

“Get me a seltzer.”

Jimin nods, then turns to Jungkook on his other side. “Oi. Do you want another drink?”

Jungkook seems to consider it, then nods. “Another beer? Thanks, hyung. Oh, wait!” He leans over conspiratorially to Chaeyoung. “Do you want another drink?”

From her spot on the armchair, she nods immediately. “I can have another glass.” She picks up a piece of popcorn and throws it at her brother, seated across the room in the other armchair. “Oppa,” she whispers loudly, “you want a drink?”

“Beer,” he answers instantly, before tapping Hoseok’s shoulder. “Oi, Hoseok. Do you want -”

“Good Lord,” groans Hoseok, rolling his eyes. “You know what? Why don’t we have an intermission? We can all refresh our drinks, too.”

“Good idea,” says Chanyeol to his immense relief, pausing the movie. “Washroom is…”

“Inside, to the left.”

As his friend disappears inside, the whispering transforms into full blown chatter, this time about the movie.

“I don’t trust the dad,” says Jimin instantly, looking rather troubled.

“Just the dad?” Chaeyoung asks, tilting her head.

Jimin gives her mock-annoyed look, making her laugh, while Jungkook shrugs. “I love movies where you can’t trust anyone.” He turns to Hoseok. “Hyung, are you liking the movie?”

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t seen it before,” remembers Chaeyoung. “So who’s creeping you out more? The dad or the mom? Or the gardener?”

Hoseok resists the urge to say everyone when it occurs to him that he has no idea what’s transpired in the last twenty minutes of the movie entirely. But before three expectant faces, he bites his lip. “The, uh… the maid. Definitely.”

“Oh, good one. Yeah, she’s suspicious as hell…”

“Who, the mom?” Chanyeol asks as he returns and takes his original seat, a brand new beer can in his hands already. “She’s the best.”

“The best?” Jimin asks, a little incredulous.

“You know what I mean. She’s the most exciting one.”

“But, hyung, she’s also the most dangerous…”

Chaeyoung stands up and goes to the kitchen with her empty glass as the conversation continues. Hoseok listens quietly, feeling lighter than before at the sight of his friends conversing more freely with each other. Even Jungkook seems to be coming out of his shell, a reasonably unusual occurrence when he meets new people.

Which reminds him.

Hoseok excuses himself and heads to the kitchen as well, where he sees Chaeyoung peering at his bottles of soju, her refilled wine glass balancing between her fingers. She turns when he enters, giving him a brief smile before going back to examining the label she was reading.

“Hey - so, I just wanted to check in,” he says after a moment, leaning awkwardly against the doorframe. For some reason, he’s suddenly very aware of how lanky he is, feeling as though he’s all joints and bones. “Hope, uh, hope my friends are being nice to you?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re great,” she replies easily, turning momentarily again and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Right, right. And… you’re not uncomfortable or anything?”

“Um, no. Not at all.” She frowns. “Why?”

“No, just -” He shakes his head and winces. “You’re the only girl here and… I dunno. You sure they aren’t being, like… fresh with you?”

Chaeyoung turns and stares. “Not really, dad.”

Hoseok ignores this. “Okay. I only ask because I saw you and Jungkook talking through most of the movie. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t being weird.”

Her forehead clears somewhat. “Oh, no. He was just being nice. He’s quite sweet, really.”

“He’s - okay. Thought I sensed, like. A vibe.”

“Don’t worry about it. Jimin’s more my type, anyway,” she adds casually after a moment, her gaze still on the soju.

“Huh. What?” 

Chaeyoung turns around and blinks. “What?”

“He’s your type?” The words are out of Hoseok’s mouth before he can stop them. “What, uh, what do you mean by that?”

She frowns. “Um… nothing, really. He just seems more outgoing, that’s all.”

“Okay. Because when people say someone’s their type, they usually mean it in the context of…” But the word doesn’t come to him. “Well, in a different context.”

“Well, I meant it in the context that in terms of personality, I tend to get along with Jimins more than Jungkooks.” She looks confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” A moment passes. “It just looked like you were getting along well with Jungkook, too.”

“I was…” If it’s possible, Chaeyoung looks even more confused than Hoseok feels. “Seriously, what - what did I do?” She asks this, not defensively, but with a bit of a sigh, as though this was to be expected.

“Nothing. Really.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t host very often,” he explains lamely. “But I’m glad you’re getting along with them, I guess.”

She watches him for a moment before replying, as though waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. “Okay, then. They’re being very nice. So… you can chill.”

“I - hey. I’m chill. Alright?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m chill. Cool. Whatever. I’m totally - I’m frigid.”

Chaeyoung stares at him, lips pursed, while Hoseok finds himself wishing he was still watching that terrifying horror movie over having this conversation. Before either of them can say anything, though, Chanyeol enters the kitchen. 

“Hey, I was looking for a bottle opener…?” He looks up to see both occupants of the kitchen, as though just realising who they are. “What’s up?”

Hoseok takes a beat as Chaeyoung simply shakes her head and turns back to the soju. He shrugs. “Nothing. Just catching up.”

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows. “You two?” he asks incredulously, being far too obvious in Hoseok’s opinion. 

He deliberately doesn’t look in his sister’s direction as he responds. “Yeah. I was making sure she found a drink and… and she was telling me how she’d like to date Jimin.”

Chaeyoung’s head whips around. “What?” Her eyes dart to Chanyeol. “I wasn’t -” She breaks off and exhales through her nose, glaring at Hoseok. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Me? You’re the one who said he was your type,” he counters. “I didn’t even ask; you volunteered that information all by yourself.”

“Yes, and by saying he’s my type, I’m virtually humping him,” she snaps, making both men groan instantly.

“Don’t say hump!”

“Jeez, Chae, what is the matter with you?”

She glares at them, jaw dropping. “Okay, you’re both really weird right now. And you -” She rounds on Hoseok. “You are raining on my parade.”

“What parade is that exactly?”

“My - like, my social life. I was just being nice to your friends -”

“Okay, you know what? As your - your older brother’s friend, I’m going to give you some advice about -”

“I don’t need your advice! And - don’t you point your beer at me!”

“I’ll point -”

“Okay, whoa! Time out!” Chanyeol exclaims, taking a step forward and holding up his hands. “Come on, guys.”

Both Hoseok and Chaeyoung fall silent. While she simply folds her arms across her chest and conspicuously shifts her gaze to Chanyeol, Hoseok glares at her for a moment before rolling his eyes and glancing at his best friend.

Chanyeol waits for a moment. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Now which one’s Jimin again?”

Chaeyoung huffs. “Alright, I’m going to go back to the living room before I scream,” she says in a low voice, manoeuvring around both men and stalking out of the kitchen.

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “God, I forgot how much of a nightmare this can be,” he mutters, as they follow her at a slower pace.

“Yeah, don’t you just love it when ten years pass and nothing changes?” Chanyeol responds sarcastically, falling into his arm chair as the movie resumes. For the rest of the movie, no one says a word. Hoseok can’t be sure, but he thinks Jimin and Jungkook may have caught on to at least something, but he can’t worry about that now.

Part of him knows he needs to clear the air with Chaeyoung, if for no other reason than the fact that he doesn’t want to continue behaving like a sniping teenager. It’s not her fault that she finds a way each time to wheedle her way into his life, be it on the school bus with his classmates or in his apartment with his group members. He, Hoseok, had invited her here and if Chaeyoung can’t help but be so… so Chaeyoung, he at least can rise to the occasion and be a little more patient. 

“Whoa,” says Jimin in wonder as the credits begin rolling. “I did not see that coming. What a movie.”

“You didn’t get as scared as I expected you to,” remarks Jungkook thoughtfully. “Neither did Hoseok hyung, actually,” he adds, sounding almost disappointed.

Hoseok hyung didn’t, it’s true, but it’s only because he spent the last hour of the movie thinking of the various ways in which he can clear the air with a certain acquaintance from his past. “Show me something scarier next time, kid,” he suggests instead.

To his horror, Jungkook grins, while Chanyeol chuckles. “That is not a challenge he needed, mate. Anyway, I think I should head.”

“Already?” Jungkook checks his phone for the time. “It’s barely nine.”

“I have an early flight tomorrow,” he replies apologetically, standing up and stretching. “But text me the link to that YouTube video when you find it.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Cool. Chae, come on, I’ll drop you on the way.”

As Jimin and Jungkook begin debating whether they should head back, Hoseok notices Chaeyoung nodding and putting on her jacket, eyes on the floor. There’s a bit of bustling as everyone gets ready to leave and moves collectively towards the hall to put on their shoes. Chanyeol gets a call and steps into the corridor to take it, and Hoseok takes the opportunity to get his sister alone for a moment.

“Hey.”

Startled, Chaeyoung gasps a little when she hears his voice. “Uh - hey.”

“Listen, I…” This is harder than he anticipated. “Sorry about… before.”

She nods slowly, pausing before speaking. “Did I do something wrong, though?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I just got a little…” Again, he can’t think of the word. He tries it differently. “You’re the kid I grew up with. I didn’t realise it, but I guess I still see you as the eleven year old who insisted she was old enough to go-kart with us. I mean,” he adds with a little chuckle, “don’t you kind of still see me as the fifteen year old kid who used to hang out with your brother?”

She seems to consider it before shaking her head. “Not really.”

It’s not the answer he was expecting, but he nods. “Fair enough. That’s on me, I guess.”

“You know,” she says after a moment, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, “I hope you don’t feel an obligation to keep in touch just because we ran into each other accidentally. I mean, Seoul is a big city. I can understand if you don’t want…” She trails off, and he senses the air shift slightly.

He frowns, not understanding it. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to come.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but more knowingly than snidely. “You invited me because I’m Chan’s sister.”

A part of Hoseok, an old, fading part fueled by only memories and habit and nothing else, is glad she knows this. It feels shameful to admit it, though, and he wonders for a moment if she’s waiting for him to confirm it. Before he can respond, however, Jimin and Jungkook arrive behind him and step in between them to head out.

“We have to go, hyung,” says Jimin while Jungkook waves to Chaeyoung. “Yoongi hyung asked us to pick up coffee on the way and the place will close soon.”

“Yeah, and there’s some international package with the guards at the dorm,” adds Jungkook, shrugging. “There’s no one at home so we need to sign for it.”

“We’ll be on time for practice tomorrow, though!”

Hoseok waves them away as they hop into the elevator. At the other end of the corridor, Chanyeol looks like he’s wrapping up his call. Chaeyoung seems to notice this, too, and turns to leave when Hoseok stops her.

“Chae, look,” he begins nervously. “Whatever may have been my reason to invite you… I’m glad you came,” he says honestly. “It was good to see you again.”

She looks for a moment as though she doesn’t believe him. But then her mouth curves into a small, playful smile. “Even though I still think Jimin is my type?”

Hoseok nods, the smile frozen on his face. “Yeah, this was a nice moment. Let’s not ruin it.”

Chaeyoung’s shoulders deflate slightly but she still looks more upbeat than before. “Alright,” she says, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, oppa.”

“Goodnight, Chaeyoung.”

—

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

[bangtan-oasis]

Degausser ⟨ 01 ⟩ || m.yg

degausser [dee-gou-ser] noun: something that removes or neutralizes a magnetic field.

‎⟨ pairing ⟩ detective!yoongi x detective!fem!reader

‎⟨ rating ⟩ 18+ || minors dni

‎⟨ genres/aus ⟩ action, angst, crime & mystery, thriller || detective!au, enemies/rivals to lovers

⟨ chapter summary ⟩ Just when you think your morning couldn't get any worse...

⟨ chapter warnings ⟩ mild language, indirect mention of alcohol addiction

⟨ chapter word count ⟩ 2.1k

⟨ shay's notes ⟩ I meant to post this yesterday but...life. T-T I hope y'all enjoy! 💚👽

« previous || series masterlist || main masterlist || next »

⟨ 01 ⟩ The Visitor

You walked out of the double doors of the SMPA and started on your way to the main street ahead to hail another taxi. Thankfully, the rain had stopped so you didn't have to worry about covering your head anymore. Not thirty seconds after hitting the sidewalk, you heard your name being called over and over again behind you. You really weren't in the mood to be bothered so you didn't stop. Actually, you just shoved your hands into the pockets of your black overcoat and picked up your pace a little.

"Hey! Are you ignoring me?!" Yoongi panted out behind you, finally having caught up.

He grabbed you by the arm and spun you around to face him.

"Isn't it, like, rule number one? Don't ignore your supervisor?"

His perfectly sculpted hair was slightly disheveled from the jog he had taken to catch up with you. You were also starting to suspect he used the stairs—maybe to avoid getting stopped in the elevators—from the faint glint of sweat beading along his hairline in the occasional glimpses of sunlight through a mostly overcast sky. He was so close you could see your reflection mirrored in his brown eyes which were trained on yours. He was still panting a bit from exertion but his lips were fixed in the slightest of smirks. Had anything else been said by anyone else other than him, you might have gone weak in the knees. Alas, it was him and you wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Instead, you wrestled your arm out of his grasp.

"Well, you're not my supervisor so…"

You didn't finish your sentence. Instead, you just turned around and started for the street again. Your shoulders brushed against each other as Yoongi ran around you, stopping in your path. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose in agitation.

"Get out of my way," you spat. "I have case files probably piling on my desk as we speak."

"Didn't Chief Lee say they were going to be handed down to the other detectives and officers while we go to Itaewon?"

You pinched even harder until your nails dug small crescents into your nose. You couldn't remember the last time you were this irritated. Not even when suspects ran from you. That was at least understandable. What wasn't understandable was how such an esteemed senior inspector couldn't get the picture here.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you? There's no 'we'. You're going to Itaewon. I'm going back to Yongsan." you stated matter-of-factly, motioning between the two of you respectively.

You stepped around Yoongi and, yet again, tried to reach the street. Your exchange was starting to gather spectators who, you could only assume, were wishing to witness a lover's quarrel. You scoffed mentally.

You wanted absolutely nothing to do with the situation or him anymore. To your surprise, you didn't get stopped again. Instead, you were now being followed, evident by the light splashing of puddles on the sidewalk from the morning's rain right behind you. You rolled your eyes. He was starting to test your patience.

"Wait, you're not joining the unit?"

'No shit, Sherlock... About damn time.'

"Didn't you get that memo five minutes ago?" you answered with the slightest hint of malice and sarcasm seeping through from your subconscious thought.

"You only said that you didn't want the promotion." he said, now walking next to you instead of behind.

Apparently, things did have to be spelled out.

"I thought walking out was enough, but since you seem to need help," you said, huffing before continuing. "No, I'm not joining the unit."

You finally reached the main road and you lifted your arm to hail an approaching cab. Yoongi just stood there in silence, much like he did in Chief Lee's office, as you opened the back passenger door and hopped in.

"Good luck, Senior Inspector Min."

With a small bow of your head to the man, you slammed the door shut and were off.

You debated having the driver take you directly to the Yongsan police station. However, considering payday was still a ways off and the little won you had in your wallet currently, you made the decision to have him drop you off at Jonggak Station to take the subway back. It was an added bonus that this route also gave you time to collect your thoughts and get back to your normal, professional self before the inevitable barrage of questions you were going to receive from your squad.

When you arrived at Jonggak Station, you paid the taxi driver with the won you had left and began the descent down to the lobby. After a brief stop at an ATM to get more money, you paid your fare before going down a second set of stairs to the platform. The scrolling information screen indicated the arrival of the Line 1 train to Namyeong Station would be another five minutes. You sighed, leaned your head back on the cold tile of the wall, closed your eyes, and began rubbing your temples. Now that all distractions had been eliminated and you had nothing else to occupy your mind, memories of your days at the police university poured in like a flood.

Despite the great strides in women entering the force since its establishment, you were still outnumbered, more heavily scrutinized. To top it off, you were a top-class student who took your schooling very seriously. You couldn't help it; you were raised that way. But it didn't matter how hard you tried to excel. Everyone was going to believe what they wanted to believe and the word around campus was that you were only getting good grades because your father, who was a veteran on the force, managed to pull some strings.

That's probably what bothered you most. Not that your name was getting dragged through the mud, but your father's was as well. He was the kindest, most honest man you've ever met. Both personally and professionally. Despite how grueling and time-consuming his occupation was, he still managed to find a work-life balance that was satisfactory for everyone. He never brought work home with him in terms of his emotions and behavior. As soon as his foot hit the threshold of your home—no matter what he had seen or heard that day—he was nothing but smiles and playfulness.

He was your hero, your inspiration. You remembered being in awe the first time your mother turned on the TV; he was giving a press conference about a double homicide. He was direct and up-front about the progress of the case but not callous. He was sincere in his apology to the families of the victims and the citizens of Seoul for his current failure as well as his promise to do everything he could to bring them justice and peace of mind. It was right then when you knew you would follow in his footsteps.

You tried to explain yourself to anyone brave enough to approach you for the majority of your first semester but to no avail. Everyone just figured the goody-two-shoes studiousness was a facade and eventually steered clear of you.

Maybe that was why Min Yoongi hated you. You could only recall a handful of times where you spoke to him in the four years you were there. One time—the first time—was to politely ask to take a glance at his notes from a previous class you missed. You assumed he hadn't heard the rumors yet as he actually agreed and tossed you his notebook.

Another time was a few months after the first encounter, during a physical training session. You mentioned in passing that he seemed to be favoring his left shoulder and he should change up his stance if he didn't want it to be used to someone else's advantage. All-in-all, nothing noteworthy to hate someone for, in your opinion.

Someone must have told him about your reputation after seeing you talk to him and he must've believed them. It started with glares across the hallways as you passed him or scored better than him during tests. Over time, it evolved into him trying to one-up you during lectures by immediately elaborating on your perfectly equitable answers to questions with textbook verbiage. Then, to outright taunts when he would occasionally score higher on exams or attempts to get you kicked out with false accusations of plagiarism and cheating. They were easily disputable and dismissed, obviously, but he still managed to make three out of the four years of your university experience absolutely miserable.

Before you knew it, the Line 1 train rolled in, stopping in front of you. You pushed off the wall and stepped into the subway car once the doors opened, managing to nab a seat before they were all taken. Not wanting to reminisce anymore, you busied yourself by pulling out the tiny notebook and pen in your coat pocket and began jotting down a to-do list for a robbery case you were wrapping up. You were six minutes into a seven-minute train ride, just coming up from the underground, when you heard a ding coming from your pocket. You shoved your pen and notebook back into it and pulled out your cell phone.

Inspector Kim Namjoon [7:50am]: You have a visitor, Inspector.

You pondered who it could be as the train pulled into Namyeong Station and you stood up, waiting for the complete stop. Expecting an immediate follow-up response from any one of your squad members with the identity of your visitor, you held onto your phone instead of shoving it back into your pocket.

The texts never came as the doors opened. Weird. You had to assume it was your mother. She had a habit of stopping by to drop off lunch when she happened to be in the area, which always caused a bit of a stir with your squad. They were the only people you knew who liked to gossip more than your mother. But it was only going on 8 o'clock in the morning…

Me [7:52am]: Who is it?

You sent the message as you were stepping onto the platform and began heading towards the ground-level station's sole exit to the streets. Your text received no response. Also weird. After a short, five-minute walk from the subway, you approached Yongsan Police Station. It was much smaller than HQ. Only four floors in comparison to the impressive fifteen of the main building. You felt a little claustrophobic looking at it, having gotten oddly used to the large, open spaces of HQ again after the half-hour total you were there. It was unremarkable. At least to you but that might just have been because you'd seen it almost every day for the last seven years.

As you looked around—admittedly trying to stall your arrival until your squad was able to identify your mystery visitor—you noticed an unmarked, black sedan parked out front. That didn't mean much though. You would occasionally see unfamiliar civilian cars scattered amongst the typical array of squad cars when detectives from other stations around Seoul would stop in for various things like picking up files or evidence for cases that crossed district lines or would be filling in after a promotion, termination, or resignation.

You entered the building and took the elevator up to the third floor where your squad's office was located. Just as it was passing the second floor, you heard several dings in quick succession. You hit the third floor and the doors started to open while you read the text messages.

Inspector Kim Seokjin [7:58am]: A senior inspector. Very rude. Took my chips. -.-

Officer Jeon [7:58am]: Very cool-looking. I'm jealous of his suit, noona! Find out where he got it?

Inspector Kim Namjoon [7:58am]: Jungkook >.>

Officer Jeon [7:59am]: Sorry…Inspector…

Officer Park [7:59am]: Ooooo, maybe he's a boyfriend?!

Officer Kim [7:59am]: Seems like her type. ㅋㅋㅋ

Type? You didn't date enough—or at all—to have a type. Even if you did, it certainly wouldn't be someone else on the force. It would be like dating a walking, talking briefcase of random crime scenes, very likely with an alcohol problem. You rolled your eyes and looked up from your phone.

"What took you so long?"

The condescending tone of voice hit you at the same time the smug smirk, the wisps of light brown hair falling over the right side of his forehead, and the form-fitting, black suit—sans a tie—did.

You weren't too far off with your simile...

However, instead of a walking, talking briefcase of random crime scenes with an alcohol problem, it was a walking, talking briefcase of random crime scenes that had made it their life-goal to antagonize and berate you for who knows what reason. Maybe with an alcohol problem. You didn't know enough about him or his personal life to tell.

Goddamn Min Yoongi.

...

⟨ shay's notes ⟩ Ope. Just can't get rid of him, huh? 😏 Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! As always, reblogs & comments are appreciated. 💚👽

© egocypher 2023. Do not copy, edit, translate, repost, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

[bangtan-oasis]

valentino x yoongi photo reel

[bangtan-oasis]

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

[bangtan-oasis]

I’ll wait - #23

Genre/Au’s: Fluff – Idol!verse; Stablished Relationship

Paring: Yoongi x F Reader

Words count: 2.549

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You meet Yoongi at a photoshoot and you just need to wait for him to be done.

Author note: His photos are going to be the death of me.

Masterlist

The soft music is almost inaudible as the chattering and camera clicks fill the air. You are walking on the narrow corridor towards the room containing all the noise. Doing your best to be as invisible as possible not wanting to bother the people working.

Inside the studio, there is one of those big fabric backgrounds, where you just flip the  backgrounds like you’d do a flip chart. There is a sightly greenish, kind of sage background on, the main subject of the photoshoot has a white dress shirt on, buttoned all the way up, black slacks, and shiny shoes, not that they are showing in the photos. He also sits in a tall stool.

You keep walking quietly on the back of the room, greeting silently the staff you know, doing your best to not disturb the art that is being made.

The director and star are fully immersed, they exchange opinions, ask him, the subject, to look to one side. Tilt the head a bit the other side. Look to the camera in a 45° angle, now smile a little, no don’t smile. Eyes closed, open. Wow, everyone will in love with this one, can I ask you phone number after we are done? Now lift up your shoulders a little more. Please someone can fix that one hair strand that is sticking up?

You can’t help but stare at him, just like everyone else in the room. Your eyes meet and the corner of his lips quicks up in a smirk.

“Can I get some water?” He request for a pause in the shoot.

“Oh, of course you can.” The director is quickly rushing his staff.

Getting out of the stool he makes his way towards you. His cold hands cup your cheeks, and a soft kiss is placed on your lips. To fight the urge to touch his styled hair your burry your hands inside  your coat pockets.

“Hey, handsome.” You greet.

“Hey, babe” Yoongi smiles before pecking your lips once again.

His manager goes over to the director, in an attempt to give you both a little bit of privacy. You make a mental note to thank him later.

“Something’s wrong?”

“Besides the fact I want to ruin your perfectly styled hair?” You ask, before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“You can do whatever you want.” The man purrs letting his head fall to the side.

“I can’t, and I already took too much of everyone’s time. Go back to work.” You say gently pushing your boyfriend away and tapping his ass.

Yoongi pouts cutely as he walks backwards towards the shooting space. “I still have another couple styles to do.”

“It’s okay.” You sit on an empty chair in your corner. As you watch the man switch from Min Yoongi, your boyfriend to the professional Suga of BTS. His hair is styled in a way that resembles Holly, some very loose curls fluffed out making him look innocent and cute, parked with a dark sweater.

You snap some photos of him on your phone, knowing that when he gets the photos later he’ll send them all to you so you can pic the ones you want as you background.

There aren’t many props around and Yoongi is a pro, what makes the shoot move faster. He change his sweater to a white dress shirt with some ruffles and a black cardigan. His stylist combs his hair taming it down and fixing some strands so now his hair parts to the side so now it shows all the layers of with the ends lightly peaking up.

Yoongi keeps on making funny faces to you as you watch him through the mirror of the makeup station. It’s a small studio so the makeup and hair station is on a corner of the room right beside to the bathroom. Your chair is not too far from where he is sitting.

“Ahoy!” You great him as you walk closer.

“I’m not a pirate.” He glares playfully.

“No? So, what are you? A lord?” You push your hands inside your pockets fighting the urge to run them though his hair.

“Just Min Suga.” He pulls you closer.

“You look like someone from an old European movie.” You make fun of him.

“And you are just jealous that I’m looking this good and you can’t touch me.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at you.

“Where is the ‘you can do whatever you want’?” You ask mimicking him just moments earlier.

“Oh, that was Min Yoongi, now you are talking to Min Suga.” He says holding your wrist once the stylist says he is free to get up. “After this there are two more hair styles, the last one will take the longest.” Yoongi explains caressing the inside of your wrist.

“That’s okay, I’ll wait.” You nod.

“Are you sure? I can ask my man anger to-“

Placing a finger on his lips you shush him. “I’ll wait. Now go back there and finish your work so everyone can go home early and enjoy their night.”

Yoongi cups your cheeks and places a kiss on your lips then on your forehead before heading back to the shooting background. He sits on a stool to take more photos and then stands up, walks around from one side the another.

The next hairstyle is just simply parting his hair in the middle and changing his pirate shirt to a normal dress shirt. His hair stylist chats with you as he takes the photos taking about how healthy and silky his hair feels and how envious she’s of it. You can’t help but agree with her, especially since he just washes it with shampoo without any special care, while you care a lot for your hair, and it is far from looking healthy and shiny like his.

During the shoot she excused herself and takes a bottle of water to the set, she sprays some on his hair preparing to the next style, the director asked her to stop and takes some photos of Yoongi with half damp hair. As always he looks like a snack for you and you can only wait until the shoot is done.

He comes back to the makeup station and pulls you to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist as the director calls a break so the styling team can prepare the props for the last round. His hairstylist already damped we’ll his hair and bushed it all back. The makeup stylish prepares a pink net kind of thing that resembles cotton candy with small daisies around it and some other blue painted leaf’s that resemble feathers.

“This will be the last set.” He kisses your cheek.

“Hm.”

“And I’ll kill everyone with it.” He jokes playing with your fingers.

“You always do. You look fine, oh so fine.” You peak his nose. “I’ve never thought my self-control would be tested so much when I agreed to meet you here.”

“Is your self-control being tested?” He breath as against your jaw, and you nod. “And what are you controlling yourself to not do?”

“Hm…” you pretend to think, “I can’t say it out loud.”

“Yoongi, can we prepare you?” The stylist asks interrupting you.

“Oh,” you jump off of his lap and stand back to give the team room to work.

“Y/n!” Yoongi whines as you move away and not answering him.

“Sorry babe.” You pout and he does too.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait till we get home.” He winks.

As Yoongi gets ready for the shoot you can only watch him as you wait until is time to go home.

The soft music is almost inaudible as the chattering and camera clicks fill the air. You are walking on the narrow corridor towards the room containing all the noise. Doing your best to be as invisible as possible not wanting to bother the people working.

Inside the studio, there is one of those big fabric backgrounds, where you just flip the  backgrounds like you’d do a flip chart. There is a slightly greenish, kind of sage background on, the main subject of the photoshoot has a white dress shirt on, buttoned all the way up, black slacks, and shiny shoes, not that they are showing in the photos. He also sits in a tall stool.

You keep walking quietly in the back of the room, silently greeting the staff you know, doing your best to not disturb the art that is being made.

The director and star are fully immersed, they exchange opinions, ask him, the subject, to look to one side. Tilt the head a bit the other side. Look at the camera at a 45° angle, now smile a little, no don’t smile. Eyes closed, open. Wow, everyone will fall in love with this one, can I ask for your phone number after we are done? Now lift up your shoulders a little more. Can someone please fix that one hair strand that is sticking up?

You can’t help but stare at him, just like everyone else in the room. Your eyes meet and the corner of his lips quicks up in a smirk.

“Can I get some water?” He requested a pause in the shoot.

“Oh, of course you can.” The director is quickly rushing his staff.

Getting out of the stool he makes his way towards you. His cold hands cup your cheeks, and a soft kiss is placed on your lips. To fight the urge to touch his styled hair you bury your hands inside  your coat pockets.

“Hey, handsome.” You greet.

“Hey, babe” Yoongi smiles before pecking your lips once again.

His manager goes over to the director, in an attempt to give you both a little bit of privacy. You make a mental note to thank him later.

“Something’s wrong?”

“Besides the fact I want to ruin your perfectly styled hair?” You ask, before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“You can do whatever you want.” The man purrs, letting his head fall to the side.

“I can’t, and I already took too much of everyone’s time. Go back to work.” You say gently pushing your boyfriend away and tapping his ass.

Yoongi pouts cutely as he walks backwards towards the shooting space. “I still have another couple styles to do.”

“It’s okay.” You sit on an empty chair in your corner. As you watch the man switch from Min Yoongi, your boyfriend to the professional Suga of BTS. His hair is styled in a way that resembles Holly, some very loose curls fluffed out making him look innocent and cute, parked with a dark sweater.

You snap some photos of him on your phone, knowing that when he gets the photos later he’ll send them all to you so you can pick the ones you want as your background.

There aren’t many props around and Yoongi is a pro, which makes the shoot move faster. He changed his sweater to a white dress shirt with some ruffles and a black cardigan. His stylist combs his hair, taming it down and fixing some strands so now his hair parts to the side so now it shows all the layers with the ends lightly peaking up.

Yoongi keeps on making funny faces to you as you watch him through the mirror of the makeup station. It’s a small studio so the makeup and hair station is in a corner of the room right beside the bathroom. Your chair is not too far from where he is sitting.

“Ahoy!” You greet him as you walk closer.

“I’m not a pirate.” He glares playfully.

“No? So, what are you? A lord?” You push your hands inside your pockets fighting the urge to run them though his hair.

“Just Min Suga.” He pulls you closer.

“You look like someone from an old European movie.” You make fun of him.

“And you are just jealous that I’m looking this good and you can’t touch me.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at you.

“Where is the ‘you can do whatever you want’?” You ask, mimicking him just moments earlier.

“Oh, that was Min Yoongi, now you are talking to Min Suga.” He says holding your wrist once the stylist says he is free to get up. “After this there are two more hair styles, the last one will take the longest.” Yoongi explains caressing the inside of your wrist.

“That’s okay, I’ll wait.” You nod.

“Are you sure? I can ask my man anger to-“

Placing a finger on his lips you shush him. “I’ll wait. Now go back there and finish your work so everyone can go home early and enjoy their night.”

Yoongi cups your cheeks and places a kiss on your lips then on your forehead before heading back to the shooting background. He sits on a stool to take more photos and then stands up, walks around from one side to the other.

The next hairstyle is just simply parting his hair in the middle and changing his pirate shirt to a normal dress shirt. His hair stylist chats with you as he takes the photos talking about how healthy and silky his hair feels and how envious she’s of it. You can’t help but agree with her, especially since he just washes it with shampoo without any special care, while you care a lot for your hair, and it is far from looking healthy and shiny like his.

During the shoot she excused herself and took a bottle of water to the set. She sprays some on his hair preparing for the next style, the director asks her to stop and takes some photos of Yoongi with half damp hair. As always he looks like a snack for you and you can only wait until the shoot is done.

He comes back to the makeup station and pulls you to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist as the director calls a break so the styling team can prepare the props for the last round. His hairstylist already dampened his hair and bushed it all back. The makeup stylish prepares a pink net kind of thing that resembles cotton candy with small daisies around it and some other blue painted leaves that resemble feathers.

“This will be the last set.” He kisses your cheek.

“Hm.”

“And I’ll kill everyone with it.” He jokes playing with your fingers.

“You always do. You look fine, oh so fine.” You peak his nose. “I’ve never thought my self-control would be tested so much when I agreed to meet you here.”

“Is your self-control being tested?” He breathes as against your jaw, and you nod. “And what are you controlling yourself to not do?”

“Hm…” you pretend to think, “I can’t say it out loud.”

“Yoongi, can we prepare you?” The stylist interrupts you.

“Oh,” you jump off of his lap and stand back to give the team room to work.

“Y/n!” Yoongi whines as you move away and not answering him.

“Sorry babe.” You pout and he does too.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait till we get home.” He winks.

As Yoongi gets ready for the shoot you can only watch him as you wait until it is time to go home.

100WTSILY - Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated.

Ⓒ 2023 Sugarushsuga, do not copy, translate or repost.

[bangtan-oasis]

February Critique Project

Welcome to the second month of the critique project! I know the holidays tend to slow everyone down, so I'm happy to get back to this after the holidays.

If you haven’t read about the Critique Project, check out this post here or head over the the project channel on our Discord.

Thank you for taking part in this new adventure for us!

🌴 • FEATURED WORKS • 🌴

Author: @egocypher

Title: New Year & Old Tears

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female Reader

Warning(s): alcohol consumption, divorce, language, & indirect comment about sex

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: This work is about trying to fix a mistake and having it blow up in your face before you can even attempt.

Anonymous Feedback?: No

Intentions & Goals:

My intention & goal with this was portray how quickly the matters of the heart can turn sour when there isn't proper communication within a relationship.

Most Proud Of:

I'm most proud of the fact I was able to make it dramatic but without being overboard, soap-opera levels of dramatic and cliche.

Improvements?:

I felt like I could have went into a little more detail about exactly why things were happening this way. Also, I felt the beginning few paragraphs were a little unnecessary.

READ HERE • CRITIQUES

Author: @apotatomashedbybts

Title: Under The Cherry Blossoms

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin

Warning(s): car accident, injuries, coma

Word Count: 6k+

Summary: Namjoon and Seokjin, high school best friends and college sweethearts, are deeply in love with each other. Just when they were about to take everything next level a terrible accident pushes them apart. But when you are strong enough and the love is true, you always stick by.

Anonymous Feedback?: No

Intentions & Goals:

I wanted people to feel the pain that both Namjoon and Seokjin went through in this story. I also wanted the readers to feel the love they have for each other. I wanted it to be a story where reader waits with Namjoon for Seokjin and feels good at the end.

Most Proud Of:

I am most proud about how Namjoon went through with his days without Seokjin and tried to be positive. Also I loved writing their dynamic!

Improvements?:

The part where it is mentioned that they have always been scolded for being in love by the professor and how Seokjin wanted to show him that they are still very much in love. I think that part in the story could have been better.

READ HERE • CRITIQUES

[bangtan-oasis]

Suchwita: New Years Edition

synopsis; in which two gentlemen walk into a bar. or, more specifically – your bar on New Years Eve.

pairing; yoonmin x bartender!reader

genre; fluff, humor, angst, bartender!au, New Years Eve au

rating; 18+

warnings; talks of alcohol and alcohol consumption(always drink responsibly!), infidelity is discussed, flirting on all ends~

w/c; 2,131

a/n; uh, happy new year? heh. enjoy this lil drabble. sorry it’s not Jungkook based, but more is coming soon! hope everyone has a happy new year. may it be full of life, love, laughter, health, and happiness. thank you to those who stuck with me and continue to support me. love you guys.

The bell rings to signal another customer has entered, you don’t look up.

Your brows are pinched in concentration as you continue to mix a cocktail for one of your many loyal patrons. Said patron let’s out a low whistle that manages to make your eyes flicker to theirs that are fixed towards the entrance.

Sliding the drink towards them, you finally cast your own gaze to the two males that are currently making their way over to the bar. The soft jazz that plays in the background of your dim lighted establishment goes perfectly with their suave walk as they seem to almost step in sync with each other.

“Lord, have mercy. You’re gonna need it, y/n.”

Your loyal patron then leaves with their drink, and you inwardly curse the fact that they’ve left you alone, but you don’t have much time to think anymore on it as the two gentlemen pull out the bar stools to sit right in front of you. Immediately, you go into work mode.

“Can I get you two a drink?”

“No.” The male to the right, with what looks to be a bored expression on their face responds first. His arms are folded across his chest as he leans back against the back of the barstool.

“Yes.” The male on the left gives a sharp look to his companion, before settling his orbs onto your amused ones. A smile instantly lights up on his face, and you can’t help but return the smile warmly. He leans forward on his elbows and pokes his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he makes quick work of scanning the available liquor bottles that surround your patiently waiting form.

“Tonic water for me and a rum and coke for him.”

Quiet and mysterious decides to speak up when his companion takes too long. You give him a subtle nod and turn your back to begin making the drinks. Once they’re done, you make sure to set them on individual coasters in front of the gentlemen.

“Rough night?” The words come natural, almost ritualistic if you will when it comes to the world of being a bartender.

“You could say that again.” The indecisive one snorts loudly into his drink as he downs half of it, before setting it back onto the coaster. Mr. Tonic just bores holes into his own glass, his fingers gliding around the rim of the glass with a sullen expression. Without looking up, he asks you a question.

“What’s your take on infidelity?”

Sucking in your bottom lip, you pick up a random glass and start wiping it with a cloth to keep yourself busy.

“I don’t see the point in it, honestly. If you’re unhappy in your current relationship, why don’t people just speak up and say so? Why go to the magnitude of sneaking around to meet up with someone? If you’re not happy, and it can’t be resolved, then just leave.”

Despite your best efforts to not let your emotions and own personal happenstance with the taboo topic show, the end of your statement comes out sharp. So sharp, it has Mr. Tonic’s eyes flicking up to your side profile in observation. He watches you pause your wiping for a moment, he sees your eyes gloss over into a memory that judging by the broken look on your face – you would otherwise wish to forget.

Mr. Rum and Coke just hums in agreement, his lips once again secured around the rim of his glass as he takes another swig of the hard liquor. It burns his throat until he can feel the warmth in his stomach. He twirls the glass in his hand and watches the liquid swirl inside as if in a trance.

“Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all weren’t afraid to speak our minds? No, really." He laughs mirthlessly, pointing the glass lazily at you. His eyes already look hazy, and he's not even done with his first glass. You can tell this guy is a lightweight. "Imagine how better off everyone would be and how much life would feel more fulfilling. Not to mention we wouldn't waste our time with no good, cheating little-”

"Jimin." The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when Mr. Tonic's voice suddenly pierces through Jimin's rambling, silencing the male completely.

"Sorry, Yoongi. They just get me so angry!"

Yoongi lightly 'hmms' as he finishes off his tonic water.

"Would you like a refill?" You step towards him, grabbing his glass and rinsing it out before setting it back in front of him on his coaster. His eyes flicker down to the dainty, silver band on your left ring finger that he didn't quite notice before, it's paired with an equally as minimal round cut diamond in the center of it. He ignores it, for now, eyes meeting yours once again to answer you.

"Just water, please. I'm going to have to make sure that this guy gets home safely now." He jabs a crooked thumb at his companion.

Jimin splutters, cheeks rosy and glass empty as he shoves the glass in Yoongi's face with a pointed finger and a whiny retaliation.

"Aish. I'm not drunk yet, hyung!"

"Keyword; yet."

"What's your favorite drink?"

He ignores Yoongi's words, even when he knows they're true, and sets his sights on your form. You just finished pouring a cold pitcher of water into Yoongi's glass when you give him a smile.

"I don't drink, actually. Not anymore."

"Wait—let me get this straight. You're a bartender, but you don't drink?"

“I know, right? The irony of it all. But I fell in love with the craft and art of making the drink, rather than drinking it.”

Yoongi raises his glass of water in solidarity with you.

“I’ll have another please!”

“Sure thing, coming right up!”

You grab his now empty glass and rinse it, preparing another rum and coke. As you’re doing so, Jimin gasps in delight and points at the large flat screen tv that overhangs the bar.

“Only 10 more minutes left until this shitty year is over!”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, setting his drink back down in front of him on his coaster.

“That bad, huh?” You question lightly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries if neither wanted to talk about it.

“Oh, the worst.” Jimin sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. With his eyes now freshly rubbed, he feels more awake then before, and more observant. He notices the ring on your finger.

“Oh! You’re married? Aren’t you sad that you have to work on New Years Eve instead of being home?” He tilts his head cutely, and though you realize he has no idea about your ring, it takes everything in you not to shut down.

Your body becomes tense once again, Yoongi notices. His brows crease with worry when he sees that far off look on your face. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head at his companion.

“Jimin, you really shouldn’t be so nosy.”

“What? What did I say?”

You snap out of your reverie and force a small smile to appear. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s first, then Jimin’s.

“It’s okay, I’m not afraid to talk about it.” You shrug your shoulders with indifference, then lay your hand flat on the surface between them and wiggle your fingers as you explain. “My ex-fiancé cheated on me with his supposed–,” you then raise your hands, bending your fingers to make fake quotations. “–best friend.”

Jimin leans forward on his hands against the counter as he pushes his body closer to yours. Due to his hazy state of mind, he didn’t realize exactly how much, the alcohol on his breath being close enough for you to smell in the leaning position you were already currently in between them.

“What a fucking idiot!” He gestures wildly at you, his filter officially off. “How could anyone choose someone else over you?!”

You raise one eyebrow at his compliment, a genuine smile appearing on your face. To your surprise, Yoongi joins in.

“He’s right, your ex is a complete imbecile for losing you. Though I apologize you had to go through that.”

Before you could open your mouth, Jimin places one of his hands over yours on the counter and the other on Yoongi’s shoulder, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, his face full of nothing but empathy for your situation— and Yoongi’s, apparently.

“You know, Yoongi just went through the same thing with his ex-fiancé tonight. Small world, huh?”

Yoongi just sighs in resignation, shaking his head at Jimin before confirming with a curt nod.

You wince, sharing a look of understanding with the male.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, they’re also stupid for losing you.”

Jimin chimes in, voice questioning.

“Why do you still wear it?”

You smirk at that, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Because once I found out the cost of the ring, I kept it for the emotional damage he caused.”

“Is it weird that I’m slightly afraid to ask?” Jimin laughs nervously.

You splay your fingers out in between them, the diamond catching a glare from the light that hangs above your trio.

Yoongi answers, your eyes widen in surprise and Jimin just splutters out the last of his drink he only just began to swallow.

“$10,000.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jimin’s voice shrills, eyes wide as he stares between you two waiting for you to say he’s joking.

You hum in amusement, head tilting to the side.

“How did you know?”

“No–“ Jimin still stutters in the background in disbelief as you and Yoongi continue with the conversation.

“It’s the same ring I bought for my ex — from Tiffany’s, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“I’ll admit the guy may have no brains when it comes to women, but he does have good taste in jewelry.”

“I’ll cheers to that!” You raise your hand, pretending to be holding a glass and ‘clinking’ it with his real one.

He downs the rest of his drink and sets it on the counter. Jimin’s about to spew even more gibberish, when he gets cut off by Ryan Seacrest’s voice resounding from the large, flat screen tvs that are displayed in various places around the bar.

“Only 30 more seconds until the end of the year, and the start of a new one! Let’s countdown now!”

Everyone in the bar turns to stare at the tv, all except the two gentlemen in front of you who share a side eye, Jimin tilting his head in your oblivious direction and Yoongi nods in response to his silent question.

“20 seconds remaining!”

Yoongi fishes around in the lining of his jacket for a pen he always keeps there just incase, while Jimin discreetly grabs a new napkin from the dispenser and slides it over to Yoongi. He grabs it and hastily scrawls a message that once he’s done, he shows to Jimin who gives him two thumbs up and a bright smile in return. Yoongi flips it over and slides it in front of your still unaware form.

“10 seconds!”

You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing before reopening as you begin counting down with the rest of the bar, now including Yoongi and Jimin.

9

8

7

6

5

“Y/N?”

4

3

2

“What?” You try to shout over the loud chanting, as you turn your head to face the two only to stop breathing as they both lean in to give you a lingering kiss, Yoongi taking one reddened cheek and Jimin taking the other.

1

“Happy New Year, y/n!” Jimin. “Thank you for a wonderful time. Hopefully, we can see each other again.” Yoongi. They both say their farewells, one after the other.

With a final, warm smile from both men, and Jimin tipping an invisible hat, they turn and walk through the now crowded bar who are all giving well wishes to everyone around them for the new year.

You go to lean your head against your hand as you watch them leave, elbow coming in contact with a napkin you didn’t notice before. Your eyes first see the words that reads ‘turn me over’. When you do, your eyebrows raise in shock as you read what’s both hastily, yet somehow elegantly written in black ink, eyes once again quickly looking up to see if you can see any semblance of any of the two men within the crowd.

You deflate for a moment when you see neither, but holding the napkin to your chest, you smile with a new sense of hope.

‘Call me and we can get together for another drink, this time, on us.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Yoongi’

What a Happy New Year, indeed.

[bangtan-oasis]

Fic about scrunchies and namjoon? What do you say?

Lavender Haze

synopsis; in which your love life is defined by events of the use of scrunchies — or rather, a specific one.

pairing; boyfriend!namjoon x girlfriend!reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, slice of life, s2l

warnings; cursing, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, mentions of throwing up, implied smut but nothing explicit, YALL this one got me in my feels cause they love each other so much 🥹😮‍💨

rating; 18+

w/c; 2,307

a/n; who would’ve thought scrunchies and Namjoon would be so FREAKING ADORABLE. thank you anon for the exemplary suggestion of this scenario and allowing me to bring it into existence. you a real one ☝🏻 lol ok enjoy <3333

You could feel the bass of the music reverberate through your knees that were planted on the linoleum flooring in the bathroom. Your hands were secured around the rim of some random guys toilet, and you were puking your brains out.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone else was–“

You were so worried about making it to the toilet on time, you forgot to lock the door, thus incurring this embarrassing scenario. Least you knew the dude, considering he was in more than a few of your college classes — Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon hesitates to leave you by yourself, even moreso when you can’t even bother to acknowledge him due to all the sickness you’re still letting out. He grimaces, not out of disgust, but out of empathy. He hates throwing up in his own house, he can’t imagine what it’s like at someone else’s.

Before you can register what’s happening, his hands are combing through your hair, making sure that he gets every strand out of your face and out of the way of your stream of vomit. He notices a lavender colored scrunchie sitting on the counter, one he recognizes as belonging to the host of the party’s sister who was wearing it earlier in the night. Without much thought, he easily grabs it and kneels down next to your shaky form, holding your hair back and utilizing the scrunchie to tie it loosely.

Once you’re finally done emptying the contents of your stomach, he tears off a few pieces of toilet paper to gently wipe off the sick from your mouth before throwing it in the toilet. You smile over your shoulder at him in quiet thanks, and he swears for a moment the world stopped. Helping you sit up, he flushes the toilet and sits back against the bathtub, parting his long legs to allow you to easily slot between them and lean back against him for a moment of rest that you sink into gratefully.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” Your voice is raspy, barely a whisper, throat thoroughly fucked up from the amount of acid that just went through it in a short amount of time.

Your eyes fight to stay open, his fingers lightly drawing circles on your arm that he does unknowingly, to distract himself – but the action only causes you to drift into slumberland. Something, he only notices, when he begins to hear the subtle snores coming from you.

He chuckles in disbelief, shaking his head and letting his head fall back to stare up at the white ceiling of the bathroom. You curl up into him sideways and he can’t help the smile that cracks on the edge of his lips as he stares at your now peaceful face.

You were going to be a handful, and he didn’t mind one bit.

“You’re welcome, y/n.” He whispers into your hair, moments later, laying his head sideways on top of yours.

That was the beginning of your relationship.

…

“I thought you said the weather was supposed to be nice and cool, Joon!” You whined childishly, trying and failing to break away from his arms as he pulled you back into his sweaty chest, once again.

You fake gag at him, and he pouts at you cutely, bottom lip jutting out to add to his unnerving ability to make you somehow swoon no matter what he does — or how bad he sweats.

Your long hair sticks to your now semi-bare back, thankful that you always try to wear a basic camisole underneath your clothes just incase something like this happens. You clump your hair up with one hand and hold it to the side in an attempt to fan your back, though the humidity of the day doesn’t help you at all.

“I didn’t put into consideration that the humidity would make you gain a cold sweat so easily. I’m sorry, baby.”

Namjoon shares the same sentiment when it comes to fashion, being sure to wear a white tank top underneath his clothes, joining you in the bearing of skin that wasn’t planned.

The only difference being that unlike you, he didn’t mind it, especially when it gives him a better view of your flawless figure that he usually only sees at home at night, or during the summertime.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

You continue walking ahead, oblivious to both the words that just slipped out of your mouth for the first time, and unaware of the effect it had on your boyfriend of 10 months who immediately stopped in his tracks when the words hit his ears.

After a few seconds of rambling to yourself, you stop and finally realize that you’ve been talking to yourself, angling your body towards him with one hand on your jutted out hip and the other still holding your hair up, a look of pure confusion on your face as you see the guffawed look on Joon’s.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

His eyes narrow, searching your doe eyes for something that you’re not sure of and he wonders if you truly have no idea exactly what you just said to him. His heart is still beating fast as he nervously asks you a question.

“What did you just say?”

“What do you mean?”

He steps towards you, a few steps immediately planting himself back in front of you due to his long legs. His hands fidget anxiously, and you can’t tell if the sweat on his forehead is from the weather or his nerves. Your brows pinch in worry.

“Joonie, you’re freaking me out. What did I say?”

Instead of answering, he digs into the fanny pack he’s wearing and walks behind you. Swatting your hand away from your hair, he replaces it with his. Scrunchie in mouth, the same lavender one he’s kept on him since that night, the tip of his teeth keeping it from falling onto the ground, he once again combs his fingers through your hair, tying it up for you with ease.

You have to hum in approval when you take a look at how your hair looks through the camera on your phone. With both of his hands now on your shoulders, you see him towering over your short stature. Still looking at him through the camera he taps your chin lightly with his fingertip, a silent way of him telling you to look up at him so he can kiss you.

Standing on your tip toes, you lean up to meet him halfway as he bends down. As he does, he makes sure to adjust you in a way that he can reach your phone and switch it to video, pressing the big, red button before he’s looking back down at your closed eyes, and he smiles, thinking back to the night he first met you.

He whispers the three words on your lips before capturing your gasp of shock both with his lips and through the video that’s now forever saved on your phone.

“I love you too.”

…

The smell of your favorite breakfast wakes you up, along with the soft kiss that you feel on your forehead.

“Wakey, wakey. Eggs and bakey!”

You chuckle groggily, rubbing your eyes as you slowly sit up in your shared bed. Once the sleep leaves them enough, you’re able to see the full buffet he so graciously slaved over for you.

Eggs. Bacon. Avocado toast. Tea.

A true breakfast of champions.

You reach for the fork, then pause. You cast Namjoon a side glance, now that he’s sitting beside you on the bed.

“What?”

“What day is it?”

“Monday?”

“Shit! The kids—,”

Namjoon grabs your arm, gently pulling you back down onto the bed. He gives a feigned look of disappointment, in which you just stare hard at.

“Your lack of faith in me is disturbing, baby. The kids are at school, I took them myself.”

Slowly, you let your body relax back into the bed. Hesitantly, you grab your avocado toast and gingerly take a bite, ears straining to here any semblance of yours kids actually being home and not at school like he said.

He sees you wary, and rolls his eyes, digging his phone out of his pocket to bring up the ‘find my iPhone’ app that shows your kids location.

What? You’re a protective mama bear.

You grab his phone from his hand and bring it closer to your face for further inspection and clarification.

“You wound me, y/n!”

His mouth opens to further dig the metaphorical knife into your already guilty heart, when you decide to shove the rest of your toast into his mouth in retaliation, kissing his scruffy cheek for good measure.

He chews loudly, swallowing the delicious toast before his eyes widen when he sees your hair beginning to cascade over your shoulders and into your freshly brewed cup of tea.

“Baby, wait!”

“What?!”

You freeze, hands up in the air in defense.

He reaches behind him to scurry through his side table drawer, pushing away unmentionables to find exactly what he was looking for — the scrunchie.

Your face softens considerably when you see him showing you it in triumph, then scoots himself as best as he can behind you to comb his fingers through your hair once, twice, three times.

“Joonie, as much as I love you playing with my hair, you’re going to make me fall asleep again.”

He chuckles warmly, placing your hair into a messy bun, your new hairdo of choice now that you’ve become a mom of two.

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Well—,” you start, tone mischievous, eyes innocent, as you carefully take the tray of food off your bed and set it on the floor next to the bed. Next, you crawl over to him, swinging your leg across his lap and sitting down, wrapping your arms around his neck. His brow raises in question, but the smirk on his face let’s you know he knows what you wanna do.

Or rather, who.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” You lean your forehead against his, staring into his eyes lovingly.

He shrugs indifferently.

“Not nearly as much as I tell you.”

You place a hand over your heart, imitating being wounded. He just laughs at your theatrics, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips that sends goosebumps on your skin, and a shiver down your spine at the anticipation of them being elsewhere on your body.

Your lips graze over his lightly, fingers trailing down his bare chest ever so slowly until they reach the waistband of his loungers. His breath gets caught in his throat, a low groan rumbling in his chest as your fingers dig underneath to cup his gradually hardening member with expert hand.

The whimper that slips past his lips, to only get captured by yours sends shockwaves through your body, causing you to press your lips together fully that he reciprocates in earnest. Then, just when the pleasure is on the verge of becoming to much—

You stop.

He throws his head back against the headboard in mild annoyance, watching you get up off the bed only to stand in front of it. The sashay of your hips let’s him know you’re not done with him yet, especially when you grab the lavender scrunchie to let loose your hair, it coming down to lay over your now bare chest as you motion at him with a ‘come hither’.

You don’t have to tell him twice.

Squealing, you run into the bathroom, him shedding his clothes and running after you as you cackle loudly (and cutely if you ask him).

With the shower session now being over, you to bask in the afterglow of your shared bathroom that now feels like a sauna. Sitting in the same position on the floor against the bathtub like when he first met you all those years ago on that one faithful night at a random college house party.

Your eyes crack open when his chest rises and falls, causing your head to bob at his actions. You playfully smack his chest for ruining the moment, but it just makes him laugh harder.

“What’s so funny, love?”

He kisses you on the nose with a grin, eyes sparkling with nothing but love and warmth that you never get tired of seeing. You’re positive that your eyes reflect the same back.

“Did you know—,” he starts off, fingers lightly threading through your hair as he speaks, voice light and wispy, as he flashes back in time. “I knew I was going to love you that night?”

You snort in bewilderment.

“Was it my exceedingly good poise of throwing up in a toilet that did it?”

“No, it was this.”

He reaches up with his arm to grab the one constant since the beginning of your relationship.

The lavender scrunchie.

You tilt your head back against his chest, looking up at him in confusion.

“Baby, that wasn’t even mine to begin with. It was Heather’s.”

“I know, silly. It’s not so much the scrunchie, but all the memories behind it. You know? We had all of our firsts with you wearing it, if you remember.”

“Oh, I remember.” You kiss his fingers as you take the scrunchie into your own hand, letting it dangle on your own fingers as you both reminisce. He carefully takes it back, and you lean forward already knowing what he’s about to do.

Swiftly, expertly, routinely, he combs his fingers through your hair to then tie it up. Your baby hairs stick out at all angles as you look over your shoulder at him and give him a dazzling smile, just like all those years ago.

And he swears, he falls in love with you all over again.

[bangtan-oasis]

Quiet & Qualms | m.yg

Your quiet vacation brings your qualms to the surface.

pairing: producer!yoongi x gn!reader

rating: pg-13

genres: angst, fluff | established relationship

warnings: lots of insecurities, mild language, brief mentions of food, a cooking injury & blood

word count: 1.4k | read on AO3

shay's notes: repost from @/sugafreeagustd. 💚👽🫰let's pretend I didn't say I was thinking about this couple when I was writing New Year & Old Tears... Beta'ed by the kewl dude @seung-scrittore.

[Made for the "A-Z: A Couple's Story Through the Alphabet" drabble/moodboard game held by @btshoneyhive.]

There was only one ground rule for your quiet, country vacation with your boyfriend; for the first two days, he was to be left to his own devices.

It was a fair request considering—as a now big-time music producer—Yoongi spent most of his time in business meetings versus working alone in the studio like he used to. He was burnt out, which was why you thought this trip would do you both some good.

While you initially agreed in the cramped living room of your one-bedroom apartment in the city you stubbornly refused to let go of, you were starting to regret accepting his condition. Only getting to spend two out of a rare, four-day weekend with the love of your life in the beautiful countryside? You should have just stayed at home and let him take a two-day vacation by himself if this was how it was going to be…

Early morning yellows and oranges poured in through the open bedroom window, the blinds and curtains swaying in a gentle breeze. The combination of that plus the sound of birds chirping just outside on a tree branch had you tossing and turning in the cushy, spacious, distressingly empty king-sized bed one final time before you gave up completely on your quest for sleep.

As soon as your bare feet hit the cold, wooden floorboards of the master bedroom, you wanted the warmth of the fluffy comforter back. You wanted Yoongi back…

It was only the first official day of the boyfriend embargo yet you still spent the night before painfully alone. He was here somewhere…probably, but he wasn't where you wanted him to be; in bed with you, his arm slung lazily over your waist and his nose nuzzled into your hair.

You couldn't remember the last time that happened... He was usually crawling into bed while you were sleeping and was gone already by the time you woke up.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair as you stepped out into the hallway, not even bothering to do your usual morning routine. There was the faint sound of a looped music track echoing into the narrow space from somewhere in the villa and you rolled your eyes. Of course he was still working…

"Can I at least make you breakfast?" You shouted as you made your way down the hall. "Then I'll walk to town or some—"

You cut your sentence off when you reached the living room. Yoongi was fast asleep on the couch, curled into a ball, one arm tucked underneath his head while the other was draped over the side. His laptop, which was still open on the coffee table, was the source of the music like you suspected. Quietly, you closed it, ceasing the track, and grabbed the sherpa blanket off of the back of the couch before cautiously draping it over his sleeping form.

Yoongi stirred for a moment but ultimately just snuggled into his arm more and pulled the blanket up to his chin. You had to stifle a chuckle at the sight. Like this, the big, bad rap producer looked so small and…cute. Bending down to the only part of him not covered by fabric, you gently brushed red locks aside to plant a ghost of kiss to his forehead.

"I'll be back in a bit." You whispered even though you knew he couldn't hear you.

After a quick change and brush of your hair and teeth, you quietly slipped on your sneakers and out the front door.

—

You returned about an hour later to a seemingly empty house. The sherpa blanket was dangling haphazardly over the side of the couch where Yoongi and his laptop were missing from. After plopping your groceries down onto the kitchen counter, you headed down the hall to check the other rooms.

"Yoongi?"

Nothing. Except he was here judging by the still slightly fogged mirror and steam that hadn't dissipated yet in the bathroom.

You sighed heavily as you made your way back to the kitchen to begin preparing your own breakfast. Eggs ready to be cracked and veggies washed and ready to be chopped, you had just plopped a pan down onto the stovetop when movement out on the balcony caught your eye.

Breakfast abandoned, you approached the sliding glass door. He was leaning on the railing, looking out over the rooftops at the mountains, taking sips from a pint glass filled with what you assumed was his typical morning tea. Small droplets of water were dripping from his hair down onto the wooden planks beneath his feet. His laptop was opened up on a small patio table next to him and it was playing the same track you had heard earlier, although now muffled by the clear obstruction between you.

For what seemed like the thousandth time already that morning, you sighed sadly before going back into the kitchen. Try as you might, you couldn't stop the storm of thoughts and qualms as you began chopping up the veggies for your omelette.

You could only see his side profile from the door but…when was the last time you'd ever seen Yoongi look that peaceful? Even when he was at home with you after a long day of work, he still looked stressed, unhappy. Almost like he was in pain…

Maybe you should just leave…

Slender, pale arms snaked around your waist, causing you to jump and gasp.

"Ah!" You inhaled sharply through your teeth as the knife you were cutting with nicked a finger on your other hand.

"Geez! Yoongi!" You said breathlessly, your uninjured hand coming up to your chest in an attempt to calm your rapid heartbeat. "I didn't even hear the door."

"Shit, sorry! Is it bad? Let me see."

The hands on your waist slowly turned you around to face him before you let him take the dish towel you instinctively wrapped around it from your finger. You shifted your gaze down the tiles below your feet as he inspected. Looking at him was too painful at the moment, knowing he might just be better off without you.

"It's not bad. Look, it already stopped bleeding."

You just nodded and stepped out of his grasp to rinse your hand off in the sink.

"Hey…are you okay?"

His question threatened to tear your heart into tiny pieces.

"It's fine. Stopped bleeding like you said," You turned to show him that your finger was, in fact, fine and now clean. "This omelette shouldn't take me long. You can have it, I'm just going to go home when I'm done."

"Stop."

"It's fine, Yoongi. You wanted time alone and maybe I just need to g—"

You were cut off when you were spun back around and soft lips were crushed against yours while a hand held your head firmly in place. Despite all of your doubts, you couldn't help but kiss him back hard, grabbing the sleeves of his sweater like a lifeline you really didn't want to let go of.

When you finally broke apart for air, he placed his forehead against yours, his grip on your head loosened, and he dropped his hand, resting it gently on the side of your neck.

"You can't leave," he whispered.

"Yoongi, I saw you out there… You looked so happy to finally be left alone."

He scoffed in amusement.

"You're right, I was happy, but not about being by myself." His other hand that was still on your waist dropped down and he started fishing something out of his pocket. "I finally realized I don't want to be alone ever again. I just had to work up the balls first... Thought it would take me a couple days but..."

He pulled away from you a little more to finally wiggle the item out. You stepped back and threw your hands over your mouth as you gasped. Your eyes immediately clouded over with tears. Yoongi smirked and flicked the little box open, showing off the most simple yet elegant looking ring you'd ever seen. Exactly the ring you had fantasized about for years. Your hands wrangled a sob.

"I'm so sorry that I ever made you doubt me…" Yoongi's emotion-filled voice cracked a little bit and he scratched at his neck quickly in embarrassment. "Will you marry me?"

You dropped your hands from your mouth to answer but found no words would come out. Not that any words could have accurately iterated everything you felt at that moment anyway. So, instead, you threw yourself at Yoongi, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for the hardest, deepest kiss you'd ever shared in the years you'd been together.

Just like that, all of your qualms were washed away by a quiet, calming tide of happiness. And, now, you were going to be able to call him your husband.

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divider by @firefly-graphics

© egocypher 2022-2023. Do not copy, edit, translate, repost, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

[bangtan-oasis]

Moodboard for Blackthorn requested by @sweetestofchaos

for use by @sweetestofchaos only

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portfolio | request

© egocypher 2023. Do not edit, repost, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

[bangtan-oasis]

"Finally...I've been waiting..."

« sources » canva | one

© egocypher 2023. Do not steal, edit, repost, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

[bangtan-oasis]

Degausser ⟨ 00 ⟩ || m.yg

degausser [dee-gou-ser] noun: something that removes or neutralizes a magnetic field.

‎⟨ pairing ⟩ detective!yoongi x detective!fem!reader

‎⟨ rating ⟩ 18+ || minors dni

‎⟨ genres/aus ⟩ action, angst, crime & mystery, thriller || detective!au, enemies/rivals to lovers

⟨ chapter summary ⟩ What was supposed to be a normal day at the station was quickly turned on its head before you could even get off the train.

⟨ chapter warnings ⟩ mild language, mention of death/suicide [implied] & mention of blood [implied]

⟨ chapter word count ⟩ 3.3k

⟨ shay's notes ⟩ Let's get this show on the road, shall we?! I am slowly reediting, drafting up, and queuing all chapters and drabbles I have so far. I will probably release them weekly to give me time to work on the next installments in the meantime.

To all the folks already familiar, you might notice I upped the rating. That's because I plan to be a little more descriptive when it comes to the more action-y scenes and a little more suggestive. Sorry minors. :( To all new folks, I hope you enjoy! 💚

series masterlist || main masterlist || next »

⟨ 00 ⟩ The Prologue

Senior Inspector Choi [06:32]: Don't bother coming into the station yet.

Senior Inspector Choi [06:32]: Chief Lee wants to see you at HQ first.

"Shit!" You hissed aloud in the crowded Line 6 subway car as it was slowing down to a stop in Samgakji Station.

Ignoring the stares and glares thrown your way by your sudden outburst, you shoved the tiny notebook and pen that had been left abandoned on your lap into the pocket of your black overcoat and made sure your messenger bag was zipped shut.

As you stood up to prepare for the stop, stabilizing yourself with one hand on the bar above your head, you typed out a furious response. Well, as furious as you could be with a superior.

Me [06:34]: I'm already less than 10 minutes away.

Me [06:34]: Is there any way it can wait?

The doors opened and the masses of people poured out of the train. You waited until the car was mostly empty before walking out. After stepping onto the platform and finding a spot out of the way of the other commuters, you checked your cell phone for a response.

Senior Inspector Choi [06:35]: He said it was urgent. Wants you there by 7, if you can make it. Said he has another appointment at 7:15.

Officer Kim [06:36]: Oooooh, someone's in trooooouble. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"How mature…" you muttered sarcastically to yourself.

You were truly starting to regret agreeing to be a part of your station's group chat. You did so begrudgingly, considering your general dislike of unnecessary phone calls while not on the clock.

Kim Taehyung, one of the squad clowns, was always making comments like that. And once he started, the other two clowns—Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook—would inevitably join in.

Luckily, there were three other inspectors who appeared to have the patience to try to keep them in check.

One—Kim Namjoon—was probably your favorite. The de facto leader of the hooligans, more often than not, called them out on their immature behavior. Especially if it was beginning to affect their work performance.

Kim Seokjin? He was great at his job, but prone to getting into playful squabbles with the youngest, Officer Jeon. An excellent cook too, you found out purely by mistake when you accidentally grabbed his lunch bag out of the break room fridge one time.

And then there was Inspector Jung Hoseok. He was also very skilled but you were afraid if you heard one more "Gooooood mooooorning!" in that sing-song tone at 7 o'clock before having a first cup of coffee, you might actually end up punching his lights out. Professionalism, be damned.

Me [06:37]: Understood.

Officer Park [06:37]: So rigid and cold! Lighten up a little!

Inspector Kim Namjoon [06:38]: Leave her be. I'm sure she's just nervous about being called to HQ.

Inspector Jung [06:38]: Don't worry, Inspector! I'm sure it's nothing bad! Fighting!

After another eye roll, your cell phone joined the tiny notebook and pen in your pocket. You took a glance at the train schedules posted on the wall near where you were standing. It would be another fifteen minutes until the Line 4 train would come to take you to Chungmuro Station and then you'd have to wait another ten to take the Line 3 train to Gyeongbokgung Station. All-in-all, you were looking at at least another 45 minutes to get to the Seoul Metropolitan Policy Agency—or HQ, as most officers called it. And that just wasn't acceptable.

As you climbed the steps to get to the street, you heard a familiar pitter-patter on the awning above. Part of your morning routine was to check the weather forecast for the day. Planning ahead was your specialty after all. You sighed deeply, watching the rain come down and all the people caught unawares, much like yourself, sprinting for cover with their hands, jackets, or bags over their heads.

What could you do? Unlike your profession, which was very much reactive versus preventative, the meteorologists at least were able to accurately predict the weather most of the time. However, considering you were about to look like a pitiful, wet, stray dog walking into HQ for a meeting with your superior's superior, you didn't much feel like giving the forecasters the benefit of the doubt.

Pulling the back of your black overcoat over your head as much as you could and shoving your messenger bag into it, you ran out of the cover of the subway awning and to the intersection. You began scanning the road left and right, up and down, as the rain picked up, soaking through to your white blouse.

After what felt like ages, you finally saw what you were looking for; a taxi. You let go of the back of your coat and stuck an arm up and out and waved it down. The hazard lights flicked on and the car began slowly pulling over to the curb in front of you. You immediately opened the back seat door and plopped down.

"No umbrella, huh?" the taxi driver asked, chuckling.

"SMPA, please," was your only response as you pulled out your cell phone to check the time. "As quickly as you can. Legally." you added, seeing as you now only had ten minutes to get to HQ and up to the twelfth floor where Chief Lee's office was.

"Yes, ma'am!" The driver gave you a completely incorrect salute in the rear view mirror and sped away from the curb as soon as the traffic was clear.

After some questionable driving, you arrived at your destination with five minutes to spare. Bearing in mind the situation you had found yourself in, you left the driver with nothing but his pay, a generous tip, and a stern warning to be more careful, especially in this weather. They had taken the extra time to deposit you directly in front of the doors instead of on the main street, giving you an extra couple of minutes to make it on time, so you figured you could be lenient just this once.

You quickened your pace to a light jog. You made it through the security checkpoint and to the elevators in record time. Waiting for the next lift up and brushing off the last of the water droplets from your hair and clothes, the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up at the feeling someone was watching you.

You took a quarter turn to the right so you could see more than just the wall of elevators and slowly scanned the lobby. Officers and civilians alike were bustling about, in and out of various offices found on the main floor and any that were stationary were either talking in a group or sitting down in a chair, glued to their cell phone.

You heard the ding of an elevator opening so you shrugged, abandoned your search, and turned back around to enter the open lift. You pressed the button for the twelfth floor and then furiously hit the close doors button, not wanting to waste any time waiting for other passengers. Just as the doors were about to shut completely, a pale, slender hand slipped through the crack.

Your gaze, which was trained on the hand that was about to make you late for the first time in your career, followed the length of their arm and up to the owner's face as the doors slid back open.

It was a man, late twenties to early thirties, if you had to take a guess. About 174cm tall. The black suit he wore—sans a tie—clung to his lean form perfectly. So you estimated his weight at about 59kg. Wisps of light brown hair fell over the right side of his forehead while the rest was neatly combed back. There was a slight smirk on his face, presumably from managing to stop the elevator doors before they shut completely. He was breathtaking, really, and you rarely took the time to note someone's appearance for any other reason than to issue a be-on-the-lookout for a suspect.

You made brief eye contact before you broke it, bowing your head quickly and stepping to the side and back to make room for him to enter.

"Floor?" you asked after realizing you had stepped to the side with the control panel.

"Twelfth." The low, modulated voice came from behind you as you stepped forward to hit whatever button needed hitting.

You sighed in relief, having been sure he was going to say some floor between the lobby and the floor you needed to be on—you stretched your left arm so your wrist was bare and checked the black-banded, silver watch you always wore despite using your phone more often than not—in two minutes. Again, you fiercely smashed the button to close the doors before someone else could make you late. You heard a deep, throaty snigger to your left.

"Running late, Inspector?"

You turned your head to the man, confusion and suspicion plastered on your face. You didn't recall ever meeting him before much less telling him your occupation and you definitely would have remembered if you had. With a smirk, he just pointed to the left side of your coat. You glanced down and saw your ID badge dangling from its clip attached to your breast pocket. It was backwards although you supposed it could have flipped over when moving to the control panel. You smiled weakly, flipped it back around, and allowed your muscles to relax.

The automated voice of the elevator announced your arrival to your floor and you bowed your head again to the man as the doors opened. You exited first, quickly side-stepping around the officers and workers standing near the lift, before picking back up to a power walk that oozed "don't fuck with me, I'm on a mission".

You heard another chuckle as you made a winding path between the many desks littered around the office space—the "bullpen". Reaching the back of the room, you turned left and headed down a hallway, only stopping once you reached the door with a plaque reading "Chief Lee Sungho". You lifted your left arm again and looked at your watch.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 07:00.

You allowed yourself a smug smile quickly before slapping on your signature blank face and rapped on the door thrice.

"Come in!" You heard a voice shout from inside.

You did as you were told, entering the office and closing the door behind you. After bowing slightly at the waist to your superior, you took a seat in the chair Chief Lee was holding his arm out to. You sat on the edge, your hands wringing the strap of your messenger bag. He took his seat behind his desk and gave you a big grin.

"Relax, Inspector! You didn't do anything wrong," he reassured. "You never do."

All you could do was let out an awkward chuckle and sit a little further back in your chair.

"How are you and your mother doing?"

"We're fine, sir. Thank you for asking."

He nodded in satisfaction before leaning his reclining office chair back, intertwining his fingers and resting them on his chest.

"Good to hear! Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

You nodded. Those five words in that particular arrangement were amongst some of your favorites. Meaningless small talk equated to wasted time when you could be investigating neverending cases and completing the neverending paperwork that came along with them. Or working on your own private investigation.

"I'm sure you're aware of the recent increase of suspicious deaths in Yongsan? Particularly Itaewon-dong?"

Your muscles tensed and you clenched your jaw. While you weren't stationed in Itaewon proper, you were stationed in Yongsan. And even if you were stationed in some outlying province, Chief Lee knew damn well you would know about the suspicious deaths.

"Unfortunately, sir, yes, I am."

Another nod from your superior.

"I know both the Yongsan and Itaewon stations have been overwhelmed the last year with tourist-related crime," he said, spinning slightly side-to-side in his chair and staring at the ceiling before sitting upright.

He leaned towards you over the desk as far as his seated position and obstruction would allow and gave you a warning thinly veiled as a smile.

"I know you're all doing your best in these circumstances."

"Yes, sir."

"There's been a distinct lack of evidence in these deaths, yes?"

"Correct, sir. To my knowledge at least. Yongsan hasn't had as many cases as Itaewon-dong."

Chief Lee sighed and shook his head.

"The mayor is starting to breathe down my neck."

"I'm sorry, sir," you hung your head in shame. "We'll try harder."

"Well," he sighed before taking a deep breath. "In an effort to help ease the burdens on both precincts, I've made a decision."

You lifted your head, awaiting whatever hell was probably coming your way.

"I'm creating a new task force made up of all the brightest detectives and officers in Seoul whose sole purpose will be to investigate these deaths," he explained with a gleam in his eye and the biggest grin on his face. "And you will be in charge of that unit, Senior Inspector."

Your eyes blew open in surprise.

"But sir, I'm not—" you were cut off.

"Of course, that promotion will come with a salary increase," he continued his monologue. "And a fancy office."

He ended with a sing-song voice, like that would entice you more. If it didn't work when Jung Hoseok, the resident Mr. Sunshine, did it, it sure as hell wouldn't work coming from the chief—a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Sir, my cases are—"

Between your squad back in Yongsan and this man, you weren't surprised you kept to yourself. You couldn't get a word in edgewise with these people. He waved off your concerns with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"The officers will be more than enough to handle the less-serious offenses. Your unit will be stationed in the patrol building in Itaewon. The top floor is currently unus—"

A knock on the door reverberated throughout the office, cutting off Chief Lee's words. His face lit up despite the interruption.

"Ah, that should be one of your colleagues now! A little early but that's fine!" his voice went up several pitches in excitement and he rubbed his hands together like a starving man staring at a buffet. "Come in!"

You turned in your seat enough to be able to see the door as it opened and someone stepped through the threshold. Your eyes grew wide for a second time. It was the gorgeous man from the elevator. Although, this time, instead of smirks and playfulness, his mouth was fixed in a line and his aura exuded nothing but seriousness.

"Senior Inspector Min Yoongi, meet the newest senior inspector!" Chief Lee motioned between the two of you respectively. "Given the sudden increase in these cases, it seemed wise to have two leaders."

"What?!" The professional demeanor of you both was broken as you exclaimed in stereo.

You stood up fast from your seat and turned fully to face the man still standing in front of the opened door. There's no way! It couldn't be him, right?! The last time you remembered seeing a Min Yoongi was almost eight years ago at your graduation ceremony and for a couple of weeks following here and there at HQ before you were dispatched to Yongsan and he had requested a transfer to his hometown to be closer to his family.

He definitely didn't look like that eight years ago when he spent most of his time glaring daggers at you from across the classroom at the Korean National Police University. But it was quite common for several people to have the same name. What were the chances?

"Min Yoongi? From Daegu?"

Your question went ignored as the man pushed past you to approach Chief Lee's desk. It appeared you each had differing reasons for your incredulity.

"Sir, with all-due respect, don't you think a leader should be someone who has been a senior inspector for longer than—" he pulled up his left wrist to look at his watch sarcastically. "—two minutes?"

Yeah, it was him. Hearing the vitriol dripping from his voice when speaking about you solidified that. The Min Yoongi next to you and the Min Yoongi who was your "rival" from KNPU were one and the same. Although, the better half of a decade later, you still had no clue exactly what it was you did to him to become his rival in the first place.

However, just like back then, you were never one to back down in the face of adversity. Before you could explain as much, your superior was already coming to your defense.

"She has been offered a promotion several times in the last five years and has declined them all," Chief Lee explained, his previous light-hearted demeanor shifting to a more serious one. "Not for lack of qualifications or experience."

"You both forget I haven't exactly accepted this offer either," you spat out. "And, for the sixth time, I'm not interested in a promotion. Let Senior Inspector Min lead the team."

Yoongi smugly crossed his arms in victory as you grabbed the messenger bag you had discarded on the floor underneath your chair and pulled the strap over your shoulder. You bowed to the chief before turning, walking past your former classmate, and to the door. Just as you reached for the doorknob to leave, you heard Chief Lee call out to you.

"Do you think your father would have wanted you to squander your potential like this?"

Your hand hovered over the knob as memories of a year ago flooded your mind's eye in rapid succession. It happened every time your father was mentioned now. You tried your best to dwell on the happier moments of your time with him.

Of childhood when he would push you on the swings at the park or how gentle he was despite his calloused hands when you would get an "ouchie" falling off your bike for the thousandth time. Of the important moments in your life where he was probably more excited than you were like your graduation from KNPU or when you solved your very first case.

No, all you could think about now was your mother's scream and the gun laying in a pool of red on the floor of the study next to his chair. Just as the scream was fading from your mind, before you could swallow the lump that had formed in your throat to speak, Chief Lee spoke again instead.

"Does your mother know about these opportunities you've passed up?"

You clenched your outheld fist and gritted your teeth briefly. So that was the game he wanted to play? That was how far he would go to have suspicions cleared and the weight lifted from his shoulders without lifting a finger? Emotional guilt-tripping and blackmail? It made you sick to your stomach. Especially since he was brazen enough to mention it in front of other people. You loosened your grip and jaw and blinked the tears from your eyes before turning back around.

Yoongi just stood there, staring at you, the faintest hint of shock on his face. Chief Lee still sat at his desk, arms folded atop his gut, leaned back as far as the reclining mechanism would allow with a slight smirk. It took everything you had not to throw up.

"Honestly, sir, if I had followed what my mother wanted, I would have never joined the police in the first place."

Without another glance at either man, you turned again, pulled open the door to the office, and left.

⟨ shay's notes ⟩ Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this. As always, feedback is always welcome and appreciated! 💚👽

© egocypher 2023. Do not copy, edit, translate, repost, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

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Degausser ⟨ masterlist ⟩ || m.yg

degausser [dee-gou-ser] noun: something that removes or neutralizes a magnetic field.

After a noticable increase of suspicious deaths in Itaewon, you and seven other detectives are dispatched to investigate. One of the seven? A former classmate from the police academy who hates your guts for some reason.

‎⟨ pairing ⟩ detective!yoongi x detective!fem!reader

‎⟨ rating ⟩ 18+ || minors dni

‎⟨ genres/aus ⟩ action, angst, crime & mystery, thriller || detective!au, enemies/rivals to lovers

‎⟨ warnings ⟩ strong language, eventual fade-to-black sexual scenes [potential bonus smut, don't ask please], arguing/yelling, drinking & smoking, mentions of food, mentions & non-explicit depictions of death [suicide & murder], non-explicit depictions of violence [with/without weapons] & blood.

⟨ word count ⟩ 3.3k / ???

⟨ last updated ⟩ Jan. 18, 2023

⟨ chapters ⟩

00 || 01 || 02 || ??

⟨ extras ⟩

⟨ drabbles ⟩ 01.5 || [08:15] || The First

⟨ moodboards ⟩ m.yg || reader

⟨ misc ⟩ answered asks || reviews

⟨ timeline ⟩

The First || 00 || 01 || 01.5 || 02 || [08:15am] || ??

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⟨ banner sources ⟩ canva || 1 || 2

© egocypher 2023. Do not steal, edit, repost, translate, or otherwise claim my work as your own.

This is being reposted from my old accounts (@/releasethypen @/sugafreeagustd) as I will be deleting those soon.

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