#[ chuckles ] once again bts has saved my Life

[flurrys-creativity]

Found Family

Pairing: Kim Namjoon (BTS) x GN!Reader; slight OT8?!; Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship AU, some Angst, some Fluff, suggestive at one point, Found Family trope; Rating: sfw, NC-17; Warnings: mentions of Namjoon being a bad boy, mentions of child abuse (Jungkook is the “child”), a physical fight including insults and punches, bruises and split knuckles, nudity, a little suggestive, hints of sexual activities, nightmares, lots of bickering, overworking; Wordcount: 12.367

Summary: People would say Namjoon was someone dangerous. Not to you though and not to those you cared for. You realised that when Namjoon helped you saving Jungkook from his abusive father. You also realised it when your old college friends and Jungkook’s friends visited more often and continued to stay at your place. That crazy bundle of people was his found family.

A/N: I rewrote this story sooooo many times... and I basically only wanted to write that “save JK” part... now we have a lot more

“Are you awake?”

You groaned and turned away from the voice beside you. “No”, you mumbled and pressed your eyes close, hoping to cling to the faint sensation of sleep. It had taken you hours to somewhat feel tired. 

Sure, you kind of noticed that someone had entered your bedroom and laid down next to you, but deep inside of you, you had hoped you could still continue to sleep.

A deep chuckle filled your ears.

You sighed heavily, accepting sleep wasn’t meant for you just yet. You turned back around and searched with your hand through the dark until you linked fingers with another hand. “I didn’t expect you tonight”, you whispered, a smile ghosting over your lips. 

Even though you wanted to sleep you were happy in his presence. His natural scent engulfed you and put you further under his spell.

Namjoon’s calloused fingertips painted small figures on the back of your hand as he chuckled again. “I haven’t visited you in a while now. You’re early in bed though. What are you up to these days?” He squeezed your hand before his gaze flicked up to your face. 

The dim light of the moon outside of the window behind him illuminated your face just enough to see your reaction. An annoyed scrunch of your nose and a downcasted look.

“Work. It has been a little tough lately.” Another deep sigh fell from your lips as you once again started to repeat the list of duties you still needed to fulfil inside of your head. Whenever you finished a task, somehow three new tasks appeared on your list and it felt like you weren’t getting anywhere.

“Wanna talk about it?” Namjoon moved his free hand to your face and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, leaving his hand on your cheek.

You contemplated his question, not wanting to escalate and spill all your troubles like a waterfall without any end in sight. On the other hand talking about it could relieve your stress and maybe give you an idea what you could do with some of your problems. Kind of like scientists used rubber duckies to find the solution to a problem.

“Hm?”

“Are you willing to be my rubber ducky?”

Another deep chuckle rang through the air, making every fibre of your body tingle. “Rubber ducky, hm?” Namjoon snickered again. “I’ll be anything you need.”

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. Even though people considered him as a bad guy, he was nothing but sweet and understanding towards you.

You had met him at a party during your first year of college, where he got into a fight with a group of students. You can’t really remember what made you walk over to them, telling the guys some kind of lie and watching them scurry away until you were alone with him. At first Namjoon had blocked any of your attempts to talk with him but you on the other hand were quite persistent. 

Ever since that party you met him around campus every now and then. Your presence was somewhat refreshing in Namjoon’s opinion. You never pried into his private life, silently patched his wounds up while talking about your classes without asking him where he got those. He knew you were curious, seeing the dozen questions in your eyes, so he appreciated it even more that you didn’t question him.

Namjoon squeezed your hand again, reassuring you to let your emotions out whenever you were ready. You sighed and scooted closer to him, leaning your forehead against his chest until it nodded in sync with the movement of his chest when he breathed. A tremble ran through your whole body, thinking about the new workload on top of your shoulders and the fact you’re already struggling. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to fulfil all the requirements.”

He hummed lowly, knowing there was no use suggesting changing or even dropping out of some classes. You would never give up on the extra credits that might be useful later on.

“I feel like I’m slowly giving up. Even you noticed that I’m in bed early. Usually I stay awake studying or preparing for classes but here I am. In bed. Doing nothing.” You sighed and closed your eyes, a list of things you should be doing appearing in your mind. “I offered to tutor younger students for one of the classes I had during the first semester. Maybe that was a bad idea though.”

“Are there others tutoring too?”

“Yeah, there are five others with me. We should be working together and checking in on what topics we want to cover next but none of them answered my emails so far and I really don’t have the energy to run after them.” A small pout appeared on your lips and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 

Namjoon softly wiped them away with his thumb, kissing the top of your head. “I know you wouldn’t drop the tutoring”, he said, scoffing in amusement when you nodded, “but I suggest you simply do your thing. You reached out to them and if they don’t answer you it’s not your fault. Ignore them, do what you think is right and everything will work out in the end.”

“What if I get in trouble for not working with them in the end?” You sniffled silently, rubbing with the palm of your hand over your cheeks. “I really don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Namjoon rubbed over your upper arm, placing soft kisses on your forehead, temple and cheeks. “How about you take some time tomorrow to create a tutoring plan and send it to your professor? If they tell you that’s fine with them, you’re good to go.”

“So I’m not giving up right now? Maybe I should get back up and work some more.”

You were about to push yourself up, when Namjoon wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you close against his. “Absolutely not. Resting is just as important. You’re staying here with me and trying to relax a little.”

You sighed deeply but relaxed in his hold nonetheless. Even though a part of you still worried and wanted to keep working, you could see and most importantly understand his reasoning. “I’ll cut my lunch break short to do that then.”

“Not sure if the guys let you do that”, Namjoon chuckled and readjusted both your positions until he felt comfortable and closed his eyes, ready to drift off any given moment.

You groaned and hid your face in his chest. You had somewhat ignored that you usually met your friends during lunch. Even though they were quite understanding, neither of them would accept you cutting your lunch break short for work. Especially not Jin, who basically lived for food.

“I’m trying anyway or do both at the same time.”

“Good luck with that”, Namjoon mumbled, struggling to stay awake after a long day.

You stretched yourself and placed a kiss on his jaw line. “Next time I’m all ears for your day.”

Namjoon chuckled softly and patted your back. “Appreciated.”

Soon enough both of you fell asleep and when you woke up the next morning, you were alone again. Only a note was left on the pillow next to you. Namjoon often left before you woke up in the morning, sneaking out of your apartment the way he got inside. Even though you didn’t see him as someone bad or dangerous he was extremely conscious about your image and tried to hide his connection with you. Which you ignored much to his dismay.

You smiled sadly, wishing he had stayed a little longer as you read the note with a scribbled heart at the side. Nobody would think that such a giant loved to create cute little things like this note and you liked knowing this side of him. It felt like a side exclusively for you. With a soft sigh you placed the note inside a little box you kept in a drawer next to your bed. Every note found its place there. Sometimes you grabbed the box and read through the notes again - especially when you hadn’t seen Namjoon for a while.

After stretching one more time you got up and ready for the day, going to classes, doing assignments and forgetting about everything else. 

Only when you met Jin right before lunch break did you remember that you were meant to meet the group and that you did forget to eat at all during the morning. When Jin found out while you two walked to the cantine, he immediately started scolding you.

“Sometimes I think you should become a rapper”, Yoongi said as he joined you two, shaking his head in amusement upon hearing Jin simply continue nagging you. “What did you do this time?” He looked you up and down with a soft smile, knowing full well Jin’s rants could be unreasonable from time to time.

“Forgot to eat”, you admitted shyly, laughing awkwardly when Yoongi stared pointedly at you. 

“Well, I’m not gonna judge you since I’m definitely not better.”

“Not better at what?” Hoseok joined the group and looked expectantly between the three of you, grinning brightly as a greeting. 

“Eating regularly.” Both you and Yoongi answered in unison.

“That’s not good for your health!”

“I’ve been trying telling them that ever since we met each other”, Jin sighed dramatically, “but they won’t listen to me.”

Yoongi only shrugged his shoulders. “If food wasn’t necessary I would ignore it completely.” You nodded along, thinking about all the time you could use otherwise instead of cooking or preparing three meals a day.

“Would you eat at all if we didn’t meet for lunch every day? What are you eating during the weekends, Shorty?”

“Cereals.”

Jin smacked his forehead before he glared at you. His gaze told you, you shouldn’t be sounding so proud when saying that.

Yoongi snickered next to you, mumbling he only ate take out - if at all. 

You giggled as well, bumping your side into his, showing him silently you understood. 

As soon as you all sat down at a table, you pulled out your notebook - ready to do the workload you wanted to do while eating. You didn’t even notice the stares of your friends on you as you quickly typed away. You bit on your lower lip, struggling with the wording of the paper.

“Put that notebook away and eat!” Jin glared at you and then stared pointedly at the food next to you that slowly turned cold.

Hoseok leaned over to you, reading over the things you’ve written. “What class is that for? I don’t recognise the topic.”

“It’s a lesson plan for the tutor class I’m holding.”

Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think you already have enough on your plate? Someone else should hold them. Do you even get enough sleep?”

You looked up from the screen with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t talk to me about sleep, Grumpy”, you gently scolded him, pointing out he had days where he only consisted of energy drinks and coffee. Days where you stopped by and brought him ramen or any other kind of fast food. “Seeing your hands I have a feeling you’re not getting much sleep either.”

Hoseok and Jin both shot their gazes towards Yoongi’s hands, surprised to see several band-aids on his fingers.

“Where the hell did you get these from?”

“What did you do to get hurt?”

You smirked triumphantly while Yoongi sighed and shot you one single glare, silently getting off of your back. “I bought an old house.”

“You bought what?” Instead of focusing back on your notebook like you had planned, you shut it and looked at Yoongi with wide eyes. Despite having seen his fingers you hadn’t thought about that.

“An old house.”

“Why?” You asked the question the other two had on their tongues as well.

He shrugged his shoulders again. “Felt like a good investment.” Yoongi barely finished his sentence before the others bombarded him with more questions.

You listened intently, your initial workload completely forgotten. You couldn’t fathom getting a house while still being in college, you even struggled to know what you wanted to do the next week. So thinking about your own home in the future seemed like something far off in the distance.

“If the house is nice we could stop crashing at Y/N’s place”, Hoseok thought out loud, followed by Jin agreeing loudly and Yoongi groaning in despair. 

You giggled softly. “That does sound like a nice idea. My living room gets easily crowded with more than two people in there.” You winked teasingly towards Yoongi as he glared at you. “I even promise to help you renovate the house in exchange.”

“Fine.”

Jin and Hoseok immediately joined that promise and started to make plans for when they could come over and what needed to be done.

You slowly tuned out of the conversation again, looking over your own schedule with tight lips. Even though you definitely wanted to help Yoongi, you already felt the dread clawing at your insides, knowing you had less time to prepare other things.

“Hey, Y/N?” Hoseok waved his hand in front of your face, grinning once he caught your attention again. “You should come to my dance class after your tutoring sessions. We can go to Yoongi’s together once my classes finish as well.” He pointed at the open slots on your schedule with his finger.

“You don’t expect me to dance though, right? I could prepare for the next class during that time if you don’t mind.” A pained smile crossed your face and you hoped he would simply agree with your suggestion.

“Alrighty! Though I can’t promise you, you’ll follow your own request.” He grinned once more and patted your shoulder.

~~~

Over the last few weeks you somehow managed to get some sort of rhythm with all your duties - even if it meant less sleep and sometimes no meals because you were too focused on a task. Though as long as you functioned it was alright.

You tried not to stress over little things like Namjoon always told you but seeing that only one student from the first semester came to the tutoring session did get under your skin. You placed your bag on the table at the front with a heavy sigh. “There is some sort of unwritten rule that if there aren’t more than four students the tutoring doesn’t have to..”, you couldn’t finish the sentence, feeling slightly upset with the fact you couldn’t keep the students, “you can go home if you want.” With that you turned away and stared blankly at the desk in front of you, trying desperately to keep your tears at bay. 

“I’d still like to get the tutoring session.”

You jumped up and turned around with wide eyes, surprised the young male hadn’t left the room. You quickly wiped over your cheeks and blinked a few times. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t mind but maybe we can go over stuff you don’t understand instead of the plan I made.” You waited hesitantly until he pulled his books and notes out. With a soft smile you grabbed your own bag and walked over to his seat in the last row, sitting down right across from him. “Thank you”, you whispered and looked down on his notes, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

During the tutoring you often drifted off topic with questions Jungkook asked you, listening to your stories with wonder in his eyes. Soon enough you realised he didn’t mind talking about other stuff than the topics for his class. Though you only realised it once you looked at the time and saw that you were already supposed to be at the dance studio. “I’m so sorry for keeping you over time!” You jumped up and packed your stuff, mumbling more apologies to the young man. “I didn’t realise what time it was. You should say so next time! I didn’t want to keep you away from home.”

Jungkook flinched at the mention of home though when you stopped to look at him with a questioning gaze he played it off and told you he had fun today and didn’t mind staying behind. He ever so slowly packed his own stuff as if he tried to buy some time.

You wanted to question him but before you could open your mouth your phone started ringing. You apologised again with a pained smile and rushed out of the room, accepting the call and immediately saying that you were on your way.

Slightly out of breath you reached the dance studio and quickly slipped into one of the training rooms. You plopped down on a bench at the side of the room with a soft sigh, leaning against the wall behind you with closed eyes. You heard Hoseok’s voice over the music and opened one eye with a small smile on your lips. 

A group of dancers tried to follow his choreography in the middle of the room, focused on his every movement and call.

“You’re late for class”, a deep voice whispered next to you.

You laughed softly and shook your head, getting rid of your initial surprise. “I’m no dancer. I’m just a friend of Hoseok and waiting for him.” You stretched out your hand and introduced yourself.

The man next to you followed with his own introduction, explaining he currently couldn’t dance due to a twisted ankle but his friend refused to go alone to the dance practice - hence why he sat on the bench.

Even though you had planned on working while waiting on Hoseok, Taehyung pulled you into a conversation - way too happy he had found some distraction in you. Within half an hour you knew quite a lot about him and his friend Jimin, which made you wonder why you still didn’t know a thing about Jungkook despite having talked with him for over ninety minutes.

This thought stuck with you and gnawed at your insides. No matter where you were or what you did, your mind constantly went back to Jungkook. You were distracted during the renovations - being basically of no use - and even later during your nightly study session. The constant distraction continued the day after and after that too. By now you were sure that thought even plagued you in your sleep.

If you could fall asleep that is.

“You’ve been twisting and turning around for a while now. What’s on your mind?” Namjoon wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his sturdy chest, finally ceasing your relentless moving.

You sighed heavily and tried relaxing into his hold but the second your muscles relaxed, alarm bells went off in your head again. You groaned and pressed the palm of your hand against your forehead. “It’s just this kid. I can’t seem to shake it off thinking about him. I don’t even know why and I will see him tomorrow during the tutor session again but… I don’t know.”

“Tell me more about this kid.”

You frowned, trying to find the beginning of whatever you wanted to say about Jungkook. You also struggled to keep his identity a secret since you weren’t supposed to talk about your students. Everything you experienced with them was supposed to be confidential.

“As long as you’re not saying his name, you’re not breaking any rules.”

A small pout formed on your lips. He knew just too well what you were worrying about. And so you told him everything. Everything except the name. Though it wasn’t much to begin with, only the few things you had noticed over the time you spent with Jungkook.

From him being extremely quiet over him only wearing long sleeved, baggy clothes despite the heat up to Jungkook always staying behind and wasting as much time as possible before going home.

While you were talking, Namjoon tensed unconsciously.

“What’s wrong?” You stopped talking as soon as you realised how tense he was.

“Next time you see that kid”, he swallowed harshly, “don’t let him go home.” With that Namjoon stood up and rushed out of your room.

You sat up, worry lacing your features. The reminiscent warmth next to you slowly faded underneath your fingertips. You weren’t able to fall asleep that night. 

You didn’t know much about Namjoon but you knew he avoided his emotions and more importantly avoided letting others see his emotions. But from his reaction you knew it had to be something serious.

You dragged yourself through the whole day until the tutoring session, seeing Jungkook already sitting in the classroom and doodling on a piece of paper. 

You still didn’t know what to do. How were you supposed to keep him away from his home? You were his tutor and at the end of the day you had to let him go, no matter how much you would have extended his stay. You also didn’t want him to think you were punishing him for staying behind.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think that at all. His smile brightened whenever he glanced towards the clock and noticed more and more time passed.

Yet when your phone rang - just like last week - his smile immediately vanished. He slowly started packing his stuff, knowing it was the end of the tutoring after all.

You noticed the shift in his mood and bit on your lower lip, remembering Namjoon’s words from last night. “Hey,” you started hesitantly, catching Jungkook’s attention instantly, “would you like to tag along? I’m going to the dance studio around the corner. If you want to, we can continue our discussion while I wait for my friend.”

You’ve never seen Jungkook pack his stuff this quickly, making you laugh quietly. Within seconds Jungkook stood next to you, eager to follow you to the dance studio.

Though once you reached the dance studio, Jungkook got so distracted by the practice held by Hoseok that he couldn’t concentrate on anything you said. “I’m sure you could join them if you want to”, you said loud enough to get his attention - even for a short moment.

He stared at you like a deer caught in headlights, contemplating what you said in silence. His gaze wandered to the dancers following Hoseok in front of the large mirror, longing to join them.

“It’s alright”, you reassured him, smiling softly and basically shooing him away from the bench you two were sitting on.

Hoseok grinned at you through the mirror as soon as he noticed the newcomer dance along. You had mentioned the situation only briefly when you two had arrived and Hoseok wasn’t one to question it - at least not as long as it wouldn’t be harming you or any of his friends.

You could be resuming to study for one of your classes but somehow you were transfixed on Jungkook and his dancing. He quickly followed along, grinning like a kid on the morning of its birthday. Though during a jumping move your breath got caught in your lungs. You only saw a glimpse of his torso but you were sure you saw several bruises.

You kind of hoped to see Jungkook’s torso again to confirm it but throughout the rest of the practice it never happened.

Jungkook came back to you like a little puppy, practically glowing from the inside after the joy he just experienced.

“You should come by more often”, Hoseok told him and patted his shoulder, turning to you then. “Where did you find such a natural?” He laughed brightly and grabbed his duffel bag. “Ready to head to Yoongi’s?”

You smiled and shook your head, being used to Hoseok just asking one question after the other without even waiting for an answer in the first place. “Don’t remind me. There’s still so much work to do at his house.”

For a moment you even forgot Jungkook still stood next to you, shifting from one foot to the other. Only when Hoseok turned to him again and asked him if you two should drop him off somewhere did you focus on him again.

To your surprise Hoseok managed to convince Jungkook to drop him off at his home before you two wanted to head towards Yoongi’s new house.

Yet when you two did exactly that, your stomach twisted in pain. You silently watched Jungkook walk up the patio of the simple suburban looking house and after a moment of hesitation vanish into it.

Hoseok drove off again, humming cheerily along to the radio on the way to Yoongi. 

Yoongi and Jin sat on the Hollywood swing they installed a few hours ago, waiting for you and Hoseok to arrive. Jin lazily waved with his hand as Hoseok parked in front of the house, jumping out of the car and skipping up the few steps towards them. 

You on the other hand only stepped out of the car and looked over your shoulder. Something inside of you begged you to get back, begged you to get to Jungkook.

“Y/N?” Yoongi stood up, noticing something was wrong. 

“Namjoon wanted to stop by, in a bit, don’t worry!” 

Even though Jin’s words should be reassuring and comforting to you, you could only muster a pained smile. “I have to get back.”

“Back to where?”

Yoongi ignored Jin’s question and grabbed his car keys, tossing them to you without a question. With a quick movement of his head he pointed to his car.

You mouthed your thanks and rushed to his car, getting in and driving back to Jungkook’s place. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t ignore the guilt flaring up inside you and the vision of the bruises but most importantly you couldn’t stop thinking about Namjoon’s reaction when you told him about Jungkook.

You arrived back in the suburban area. Some of the houses looked a little worn out, with colour splitting from the walls or graffiti tainting the once beautiful surface.

You stopped the car in front of a small house with only two stories and the porch. Most of the curtains were closed and if you hadn’t seen Jungkook entering the house prior you would have thought nobody was home.

Biting on your lower lip, you got out of the car and walked to the front door. You raised your hand, about to knock against the wood, but your knuckles hovered over it. 

You heard screaming from the other side of the door and something crashing, making your stomach drop with dread. You swallowed harshly and finally knocked against the door. 

Waiting.

You knocked again, this time even louder than before. 

You heard heavy footsteps behind the door before it was nearly ripped out of its frame with the force the man used to open it.

“What?”

You flinched at his brute tone, quickly blinking a few times before you were able to recover. “Hello Mr. Jeon? I’m Jungkook’s tutor.”

“Did that brat cause trouble?”

Your eyes widened in shock when you heard how negatively he talked about his own son. “No, no”, you rushed out, “not at all. I stopped by because I forgot to give him some important notes. He needs them for the upcoming exam.”

“I can give them to him”, he grunted and stretched a hand out towards you.

You laughed nervously, brushing some strands of hair behind your ear. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to give them to him personally. There might be some things we need to make clear.”

“If he’s too dumb to understand the notes it’s his problem.”

“I’m sorry to disagree with you, Mr. Jeon, but as his tutor it’s my duty to make sure Jungkook understands what the notes are about.” You stared at the man in front of you, keeping eye contact despite wanting to turn around and just leave.

The man looked you up and down with an uninterested look. He resembled Jungkook a lot, you noticed, just a little older and less boyish. He wore a suit, with his tie loosened around his neck. If it weren’t for his tousled hair and the hard look in his eyes, you might even like him. But something about him, set off the alarms in your head.

“Could you please get Jungkook?” You tried again, your eyes darting to the area behind him, hoping Jungkook would appear in the hallway any minute.

“No.”

You tensed and looked back at the man in front of you.

“He’s unavailable at the moment.”

“When will he be available then? I really need to speak to him.” You pressed, the unrelenting feeling in your stomach gripping you even harder than before.

The man scoffed and leaned down to be on eye level with you. “Why wouldn’t you be able to give that brat the notes tomorrow? What is the real reason a young and pretty tutor needs to talk to him?”

Your eyes widened in shock, swallowing harshly at the indication in his question. 

Before you were able to redeem yourself in front of him, you felt a presence behind you. Mr. Jeon straightened again and stared behind you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Get the kid”, Namjoon ordered lowly, and for a moment you weren’t sure who he was talking to, “I’ll take care of this bastard.”

You jumped slightly, when Namjoon pushed you into the hallway, before he attacked Mr. Jeon, pressing his arm against the man’s throat and holding him against the door frame.

You hesitated, staring at Namjoon, whose face was twisted with rage. You’ve never seen him like this and it somewhat scared you.

“Go!” He growled, glaring towards you for just a second.

You turned around and hurried further into the house, gently calling for Jungkook. You found him on the kitchen floor, dozens of glass shards around him. He had his eyes closed and didn’t react when you had called for him.

You rushed into the kitchen and dropped on your knees next to him, ignoring the glass cutting through your pants.

“Jungkook? Hey, can you hear me?”

He groaned and opened one eye, turning a little on his back so he could look up to you. “Y/N?” Jungkook coughed badly and writhed in pain. “What are you doing here?”

You had tears in your eyes. You had the feeling this wasn’t the first time Jungkook was mistreated and you were shocked you hadn’t seen it earlier. Even disappointed in yourself for not understanding the signs sooner. Yet, Namjoon had caught on to them immediately.

“Getting you out of here”, you whispered, your voice broken from the tears you tried to hold back. “Can you get up?”

Jungkook pushed himself up, closing his eyes in pain. He breathed heavily and halted for a few seconds before he was able to look at you again. This time with both his eyes open. 

“He wouldn’t let me leave like that.”

You bit on your lower lip, your heart breaking from the hurt tone in his voice. “Don’t worry about that. You won’t stay here a second longer. Not as long as I’m here.”

“He’s going to hurt you as well.”

Before you were able to answer, a loud crash interrupted your conversation. You winced slightly, hearing Jungkook’s father screaming in rage. “Fucking scum! How dare you lay a finger on me!”

Jungkook stared towards the general direction of the commotion, before he slowly turned to you. “What..”

“Let’s just hurry, okay?” You asked with a forced smile. “We get some of your stuff and leave.” You helped Jungkook up on his feet.

He leaned half of his weight onto your smaller form. Something you hadn’t noticed before. Even though Jungkook was younger than you, he was already significantly taller.

Jungkook directed you towards his room, where you placed him on his bed before you grabbed a large bag and started throwing in clothes and other necessities. Once the bag was full you grabbed his college bag and stuffed books, his notebook and more into it.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked and looked around his room, unsure what else to pack.

Jungkook watched you warily before he leaned over and pulled one stuffed animal from underneath his pillow.

You softened, seeing him holding the plushy with trembling hands. “Hold it in your hand. We wouldn’t want it to get squished in the bags, yeah?”

A crooked smile played over his lips as he nodded, pushing himself up again. Without saying anything he hoisted the bigger bag up on his shoulders and dragged himself over to take the other bag as well.

“No, no, no”, you pulled the heavy bag away from him, “I’m going to carry this one.”

Jungkook nodded and slowly walked out of his room, his hand continuously hovering over anything near him, ready to catch him at any time.

You hurried next to him, wrapping your free arm around his waist to steady him. You guided him through the hallway and only stopped when you saw Namjoon wrestling with Jungkook’s father.

“Namjoon!” You called out, fearing he was about to kill the man with the force he put behind his punches.

Both men stopped fighting briefly, staring at you and Jungkook. 

Namjoon softened upon seeing your fear-stricken face. “Get out”, he mouthed towards you, “I’ll see you tonight.”

You wanted to nod but instead a scream escaped your throat as Mr. Jeon punched Namjoon square in the face. He pushed him off and quickly stood up, staggering towards you and Jungkook.

“You can’t take this brat!”

You froze and stared at the man with wide eyes. There was no way for you to fight back against him. Definitely not with Jungkook leaning on you for support. You saw Mr. Jeon raising his hand, ready to hit you.

Instinctively you closed your eyes but before you felt the impact, you were spun around. You opened your eyes again, facing away from Mr. Jeon. Instead Jungkook stood between the both of you, taking the hit of his father.

You gasped in shock, the slap ringing loudly in your ears. 

“GET OUT!” Namjoon yelled and pulled Mr. Jeon away from you and Jungkook, punching him over and over again.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate and pulled you out of the front door. He tried to walk most of the way on his own but at the same time he was glad he could lean on you, afraid he would fall otherwise.

You looked back over your shoulder, scared for Namjoon, who stayed back in the house. Even though you knew he was able to stand up for himself, you were still scared he would get injured badly.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s weak voice pulled you out of your worry. “Where do we need to go?”

“That car.” You chided yourself mentally, needing to focus on the task at hand. Jungkook was injured and you needed to get him away as fast as possible. You threw the bags into the trunk and helped Jungkook on the passenger seat, before you sat behind the wheel yourself. You looked back at the house one last time. Then you started the engine and drove towards your own home.

“How bad are your injuries?”, you asked and glanced towards Jungkook shortly, quickly focusing back on the road again. “Should we stop by a hospital?”

“No hospitals please.” Jungkook leaned his head against the window, his eyelids heavy. “I just need some rest.”

You glanced at him again, doubt playing over your features. “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, would it be okay to let a friend check you? He studies medicine and is close to becoming a doctor.”

“A friend?”

You hummed, focusing on the street ahead.

“Okay”, Jungkook whispered, “if it’s a friend I’ll trust him.” 

Soon after you arrived at your home and helped Jungkook into your living room. He passed out minutes after you sat him on the couch. While you brought his bags into the room as well, you dialled the number of Jin, waiting patiently until he picked up.

“What’s up Shorty?”

You ignored his teasing and cut straight to the matter. “You need to come over!”

“Are you finally asking me out on a date?” He laughed loudly, and you could imagine him wiping away a stray tear.

“Jin, please. I need your help.”

He immediately sobered up, upon hearing your desperate tone. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come over and check up on someone”, you explained quickly, moving over to Jungkook and carefully sitting down next to him.

“Okay, what happened?”

You heard Jin rummaging through some things on the other end of the line. As well as the murmurs of Hoseok and Yoongi.

“I found him passed out on the floor.”

“A few more details, Shorty. I need to know what I should take with me.”

You quickly explained everything you could think of, waiting for Jin to ask a few more questions, which you answered as well.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”

You thanked him and cut the call, placing the phone on the little table in front of you. Your gaze drifted to Jungkook. 

His face twisted in pain and a small whimper left his lips as he slightly moved. He clutched the stuffed animal to his side, his fingers digging deep into the plush.

You gently brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, watching him silently. You smiled sadly when your eyes landed on the plushy, an old, pink bunny. 

A knock on your door ripped your attention away from Jungkook. You quietly hurried to your door and smiled in relief seeing Jin standing in front of you. “Thanks for coming.”

He hugged you briefly and motioned you to guide him to his patient. “You didn’t tell me he passed out.”

“I thought he was just resting. If I’m correct he always just rests.” You frowned in thought, nibbling on your lower lip as you started to worry.

“So you’re telling me now he had ‘accidents’ like this more than once?” Jin cocked an eyebrow and kneeled on the floor next to Jungkook. His fingers carefully lifted Jungkook’s hoodie, revealing dozens of bruises - some a deep purple while others already faded into a yellowish green.

You gasped in shock, eyes trained on the bruises, realising he had some of them for weeks. And you only noticed today.

“It’s good you got him out of wherever that was”, Jin mumbled, gently palpating the boy’s upper body. “No broken ribs. At least something positive.”

Jungkook suddenly sat up, pushing Jin away and crawling to the end of the couch. He stared with wide eyes towards Jin, his whole body trembling.

You slowly walked into his line of view. “Jungkook? Hey, how are you feeling? You apparently passed out?” You glanced towards Jin, who nodded with your statement. “I told you about my friend, right?” You carefully sat on the edge of the couch, still keeping a little distance from Jungkook. “The almost doctor?”

“The what now?” Jin protested but you shushed him immediately, ignoring how he mumbled he was a real doctor already.

“That is Jin. He was checking up on you. I’m sorry we scared you. Do you need a minute to collect yourself? I think Jin needs to check a bit more when you’re ready for it.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted towards you and he slowly relaxed again. “Are you going to stay here with us?”

“If you want me to stay I can do that. Though I don’t mind giving you some privacy as well.” You smiled gently. 

“I think it’s better when you get out of the room, Shorty”, Jin jumped into the conversation. “I’m sorry but after I saw your torso, I have to ask you to take off most of your clothes. I need to check if there are any more severe injuries that need immediate treatment.”

A blush appeared on Jungkook’s neck and cheek and he quickly avoided looking at you.

“I could just turn around?” You suggested, feeling Jungkook didn’t want you to leave. “I promise I won’t look.” With that you turned around and faced your bookshelf, reading the titles of the books one after another. You heard some rustling behind you and for a second you really wanted to turn around and look, especially because Jin gave no reaction at all.

You were about to read the titles of your books for a third time when Jin cleared his throat and told you that you could turn back around again.

Jungkook sat awkwardly on the couch, clutching his pink bunny against his chest while Jin sat on your small couch table. 

“No strenuous tasks, no sport and a lot of rest.” Jin told him, glancing towards you every now and then, as if he wanted to make sure you would keep an eye on that as well. “I assume you’re staying here?”

Jungkook turned to look at you, unsure what to answer.

“Yes”, you jumped in and nodded quickly, “I’ll prepare the couch as soon as possible. And then you’re free to stay as long as you want to.”

“Then I suggest, you, young man, rest up and don’t move around, while Shorty over here prepares your bed and I’ll cook something so you can regain some strength.” Jin clapped into his hand and stood up, stretching his body shortly before he walked towards your kitchen.

Soon enough you heard him curse loudly. “How the hell are you able to live?! There is absolutely nothing here to cook anything at all!”

“There is!” You shouted back from the living room, struggling to get the sheets on the couch.

“Instant ramen is NOT actual food!”

“You’re able to eat it, are you not?” You grunted and fell onto the makeshift bed, pushing yourself up again and blowing some strands of hair out of your face. “Then it IS food.”

“Don’t argue with me, woman!” Jin shouted and stomped out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon, but I need to buy stuff. I really can’t believe you’re still alive. Do you even eat regularly?! I swear to god, Shorty. I told you to stop only living off of instant ramen and coffee or energy drinks. That is NOT healthy.”

You sat back on the couch again, pushing some hair back before you crossed your arms in front of your chest. “I know it isn’t healthy but it IS the only way to get through all required tasks.”

“Required, my ass”, Jin laughed and shook his head, “you do too many additional classes. They aren’t necessary!”

“Of course they are! It looks better on my degree with all that stuff.”

Jin sighed. “Whatever, I’ll be back in a few.”

You blew a strand of hair out of your face as you let yourself drop back against the couch, a small pout adorning your face.

“Y/N?”

You turned to Jungkook, your features softening immediately as you saw his doe-like eyes. 

“You only called him a friend but you two seem very close.”

You scrunched your nose in amusement, remembering how a lot of people assumed the same thing whenever they saw you together. “Yeah, only a friend. My best friend but nothing more. We kind of vibed immediately and just became closer over time. Jin is somewhat part family to me. Like a brother even? Or maybe a weird uncle?” You laughed lightly and shook your head quickly. “He’s there whenever I need him, which is great.”

“And the other man? The one you called Namjoon?” Jungkook was curious as to how you were connected with that man. He observed you squirm on the couch, a soft smile playing over your features. 

You weren’t able to answer though when both your and Jungkook’s head snapped to the crash coming from your bedroom.

Without hesitation you stood up and walked to your room.

“Wait”, Jungkook whispered harshly, one hand stretched out for you, “you can’t just walk in there without any sort of protection.”

You were about to tell Jungkook it was okay when the door to your bedroom opened and Namjoon stumbled basically into you.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his middle, trying to steady him in your arms as he leaned against you, his head resting on top of your shoulder.

“Hey”, he breathed lowly, one of his hands squeezing your hip momentarily, “are you okay?”

You gently brushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?”

Namjoon hummed, ignoring your question. “How’s the kid?”

You looked over your shoulder to Jungkook, who observed you two with wide eyes. “I think you should answer that since you know best.”

His eyes widened even more, but he was able to stutter his answer, thanking Namjoon as well for saving him.

“That’s good”, Namjoon hummed, his eyes closing and his body getting heavier.

You struggled holding him up and hurried with him over to the couch, nearly dropping his larger form onto the cushions. 

“Should Jin check him as well?” Jungkook asked and looked at Namjoon, seeing a few cuts on his cheek and arms.

“He never allows it”, you sigh and move him into a more comfortable position, “but he also experienced worse. Some food and sleep should do the trick again.”

The front door opened again and Jin walked into the room with a bunch of bags full of groceries. “Hey Shorty, guess who I met at the store?”

You looked up and blinked a few times, praying he didn’t just invite whoever he met over to your place.

“Grumpy and Happy!”

You couldn’t help yourself but snort at their nicknames, remembering how Jin came up with them one day during a lunch break. 

“I thought they were at Yoongi’s? Did you invite them?”

“I wanted to but they wanted to get back to the house, yeah. So I invited them for the next weekend. You should be free, right?” Jin walked further and vanished into your kitchen, rummaging through the bags before he was able to start cooking. “It’s nice to see the whole crew here again.”

“It would, but why my place? You guys always leave such a mess! Can’t we go to Yoongi’s house then?” You whined and trotted after Jin, pouting greatly when he turned to you and only shrugged.

“Stop pouting and take care of those two. I’ll take care of the food.” He gently pushed you out of the kitchen, snickering when you still pouted.

You thanked him unwillingly and walked back to the living room, seeing Jungkook staring at Namjoon with wide eyes. He sat stiffly on one side of the couch, not daring to move at all, while Namjoon had his eyes closed and seemed to be passed out.

Your gaze turned to Namjoon, noticing how his knuckles were split open and bruised. A soft sigh left your lips as you walked to your bathroom and got your own first aid kit, not wanting to use Jin’s stuff without him next to you.

You walked back to Namjoon and kneeled on the floor next to him, gently taking one of his hands to clean them.

Namjoon hissed and wanted to pull his hand away but your grip on him was strong enough to hold him there.

“Will you stay tonight?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you knew Namjoon still heard you.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” Namjoon mumbled and pried an eye open, observing your reaction. He had seen the fear in your eyes earlier today. The fear you had due to him. Not the situation, not the other man. No, fear of him.

“Please.”

He closed his eye again and relaxed slightly. “Then I’ll stay.”

The corners of your lips twitched shortly into a sad smile, glad he wouldn’t just leave again. You silently cleaned his hands. Once you finished you were about to stand up and bring your kit away again, when Namjoon grabbed you by the waist and pulled you down on the couch, trapping you between the backrest and his body. You squealed and giggled lightly while your legs dangled over his body. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He nosed against your neck, taking in your scent. Namjoon wrapped his arms around your middle and held you securely in place, growling lightly when you tried to get up again.

“I wasn’t the one fighting.”

“Hmm. You got attacked though.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and kissed his forehead with a soft smile. “Jungkook saved me back there.”

Namjoon hummed again before he sat up and turned to the younger boy. “Thanks kiddo.”

Jungkook blushed slightly from the attention on him now, so he quickly nodded and looked away again.

At that moment Jin walked into the living room, carrying a tray with food and dishes. “Something easy on the stomach, for you guys.” He glanced towards Namjoon, hesitating for a moment before he spoke again. “That bruise on your jaw doesn’t look too good.”

“No need to tell me you’re more handsome. I know that already.”

“That’s not what I meant”, Jin sputtered, his ears turning red, “I wanted to suggest giving you an ointment for that.”

Namjoon lightly touched his jaw, still feeling the throbbing from the punch earlier. He winced shortly and pulled his fingers away again. “No need, but thanks.”

You narrowed your eyes, not happy with his answer, but he ignored your staring. Instead he grabbed you and pulled you between his legs, pressing your back against his chest while his arms snaked around your middle and gently rested on your lap. “You can kiss it better later tonight”, he whispered in your ear with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Not in front of the kid you two!” Jin scolded him and sat next to Jungkook, giving him a double serving.

“You guys know that I’m an adult, right?” He tentatively asked, looking between Namjoon and Jin. 

“Compared to my age you’re a kid.” Jin said and Namjoon nodded along, while you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not that they don’t see you as an adult. But calling you kid gives them the chance to pamper you.” 

Jungkook grinned brightly, while Jin and Namjoon tried to argue against your explanation. 

“So, if I were you, I’d take it.” You smiled as well, loving the flustered looks on both of your friends.

During the meal you saw Jungkook getting more and more lively, especially with Jin. Both of them bickered whenever they had the chance to do so. It made you happy seeing that carefree side of him again.

Jin stayed until late into the night, helping you with cleaning the kitchen and living room after the meal. When he left, he reminded you of the meeting with your friends during the weekend again, telling you he’d revive the group chat to plan some stuff.

It didn’t even take him a minute after he left before you heard the ping of your phone, the melody you used for the group chat playing through the room. Knowing he was still standing in front of your closed door, you loudly called him an idiot, smiling brightly when you heard him laughing and finally leaving.

As you returned to the living room you saw Namjoon had already gone into your room, leaving Jungkook sitting on the couch like a lost puppy. You walked over to him and placed the blanket and pillow for him on the prepared part of the couch. 

“It’s not much but I’ll find a solution for the future, I promise. The bathroom is down the hallway and you already know where my bedroom is. Should you need anything you can come to me any time, okay?”

Jungkook nodded and thanked you softly, waving you goodnight before you left the room. He looked around the room, checking where all his stuff stood. He still couldn’t fathom this was real. Somehow Jungkook still believed he was just dreaming and would wake up any minute - back in his own room and back with his father. He was scared to fall asleep, fearing it would trigger this dream to end. Still, he crawled onto the makeshift bed after turning off the lights, clutching his pink bunny close to his chest.

You tiptoed into your room, careful not to make any sound in case Namjoon already slept. You were about to change into your pyjamas when Namjoon grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed, caging you underneath him. “So you’re still awake”, you whispered with a small giggle.

“You know I only sleep well with you in my arms.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, the kiss turning more and more desperate with every passing second. 

You could feel how he battled with himself, even though you didn’t know what was the cause for his inner turmoil.

“I’m sorry”, he breathed once he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you.”

“Don’t”, you whispered and pulled him down onto you, ignoring the fact you were only halfway dressed. You gently ran your fingers through his hair as Namjoon rested his head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat. “There is no need to apologise. I don’t expect you to protect me all the time. Just like I don’t expect you to walk for me. I have to walk on my own and sometimes I will fall. I can’t avoid that. You neither. But you can help me up again so I can continue to walk. So even if you don’t protect me, I’m happy when you’re by my side and help me afterwards.”

Namjoon’s grip on you tightened and you knew he wasn’t agreeing with you on that. Ever since you met him, he always wanted to keep you safe, to keep you protected.

Silence came over the both of you and even though you wanted nothing more than to rest and leave the events of the day behind you, your mind couldn’t calm down. You restlessly fidgeted with your fingers and squirmed underneath Namjoon every now and then.

“What is it?” He asked gruffly, not able to rest himself with your behaviour.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and patted his head softly, “I just. I didn’t want to ask with Jungkook around. But his father..” You couldn’t finish your question, too scared of the answer.

“He’s alive if you want to know that.”

You breathed out in relief, not even realising you had held your breath to begin with. “Okay.”

“Not that he deserved that though.”

“That’s not our call to make.” You kissed Namjoon’s head and finally relaxed underneath him.

“What if it were though?” Namjoon pushed himself up and stared down at you, trying to suppress the smirk upon seeing you still only halfway dressed. “If it were our call, what would you choose?”

You sat up as well, starting to get rid of your clothes as you wouldn’t be able to sleep in them. “I don’t know. Probably the reason why I didn’t want to become a judge.”

Namjoon stopped you from reaching for your pyjamas, leaving you in your underwear. “You really don’t have the slightest wish to just end that scumbag’s life?”

“What if I had?” You looked Namjoon straight in the eyes, not wanting to miss a single reaction. “What if I wished for something even worse than death? What if I wished eternal suffering for him because he abused his own child? What if I wished I could be the one making him suffer for the rest of his life?”

A smirk appeared on Namjoon’s lips. “I corrupted you too much then.”

You scoffed and hit his chest playfully. “And here I was working on your redemption.” 

Namjoon snickered and pulled you on top of his lap, his large hands gently gliding over your exposed skin on your waist. “And how would you do that?” He cocked an eyebrow, challenging you to an answer.

You gently grabbed his wrists and moved his hands further up your torso until they rested on your breasts. “With my heart”, you paused and moved your hands away from his, unclasping your bra, “my soul”, you slipped out of your bra and leaned forward over Namjoon, “my mind”, you kissed his lips before you whispered into his ear, “and my body.”

“Damn you, woman”, Namjoon breathed out, his eyes sparkling slightly upon squeezing your breasts and feeling your bare skin underneath his fingertips, “you really drive me crazy.”

“That’s a sign it’s working.” You grinned and kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Then it’s working damn well”, he grumbled against your lips, moving his hands now down to your ass as he pulled you closer against his body.

~~~

Later that night you woke up in Namjoon’s arms, his body still pressed flush against yours from behind. You sleepily rubbed your eyes, wondering why you even woke up to begin with, when you heard screaming.

Alarmed, you pried yourself out of Namjoon’s arms, threw his large shirt over your body as well as your panties, and hurried out of your room. You quickly followed the screaming to the couch. Without a thought you rushed over to him, running over to his side where he was thrashing around in his sleep.

“Jungkook”, you crawled onto the couch as well, avoiding his limbs as much as you could to shake his shoulders. “Jungkook, wake up! It’s a bad dream.”

The young man gasped loudly when he woke up. His eyes darted frantically through the dark room until he focused on your shadowy figure next to him.

“You had a nightmare, sweetheart”, you whispered and sat next to him, opening your arms if he wanted to have a hug. You knew from your own experience you always craved a warm hug after a nightmare, but you wouldn’t force one onto him.

Jungkook looked at you for a second longer before he started to cry and crawl into your arms, bawling his eyes out while you soothingly rocked him from side to side. He hid his face in your lap, the tears slowly but surely staining Namjoon’s shirt, while Jungkook had his arms wrapped around your middle, shaking with every sob that escaped his mouth.

You hummed some sweet melodies as you ran your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, calming him with every stroke.

“Can”, Jungkook hiccuped, “can you stay here?”

“Of course I can. If you think it will help you sleep again.” You smiled softly, looking down on his trembling body. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Soon enough Jungkook drifted back to sleep but his grip on Namjoon’s shirt and his hold around your middle never loosened up.

After a while you passed out as well, sleeping in that uncomfortable position until Namjoon woke you up the next morning, sending you a questioning look, as to why the kid was half curled onto your lap.

He helped you get out of Jungkook’s strong grip until he suddenly whimpered.

You immediately turned back to Jungkook, humming lowly and running your fingers through his hair.

Namjoon made a sound of understanding in the back of his throat, kissing you on the cheek and leaving the room again.

It became a somewhat regular occasion at night that you woke up and walked over to Jungkook, calming him down again after a nightmare. On rare occasions Namjoon would wake up before you and do the same.

The first time you had woken up in your bed due to the missing heat. Confused, and still pretty sleepy, you had gotten up and searched for Namjoon. Even though he didn’t directly live with you, he would always tell you when he would leave again and since you didn’t get a note, you were slightly on edge.

Your nervosity died down when you found Namjoon, humming a melody in a sleepy tone, with Jungkook curled over his chest. It took everything within you to not squeal at them loudly for how cute they looked.

Instead you had crawled onto the couch as well, snuggling up on Jungkook’s other side and wrapping your arm around his and Namjoon’s body.

On the even rarer occasion where Jungkook would wake up from a nightmare before you and Namjoon, he would knock at your bedroom door, waiting until you or Namjoon let him in. 

It reminded you slightly of a small child needing to feel the protection of its parents after a nightmare. And thinking about it, even though Jungkook was of legal age, he probably had to grow up early on, not having the opportunity to be just a child when he was young.

Normally Jungkook was too embarrassed when the morning arrived, pretending to be the strong adult again, but more often than not did you see that innocent child in his actions. Be it playing with a puppy when you all visited the park for a picnic, be it playing games on his phone while sticking his tongue out in concentration or even the excited sparkle whenever you had a small surprise for him.

Even Namjoon mentioned to you that Jungkook was more of a child than an adult, receiving a gentle slap from you on his arm as you told him to let Jungkook be. Namjoon immediately used that chance to tease you, telling you how much you resembled a mother with your behaviour around Jungkook.

“I’m no mother”, you squealed and tried pushing him away, laughing loudly when he caught you and held you hostage in his arms.

“Not yet”, he mumbled into your ear, gently nibbling at your earlobe.

“Not in front of the baby!” Jin shouted as he slammed the door to your apartment open, Hoseok and Yoongi following him.

“We’re not even doing anything!” You yelled back and rolled your eyes, getting up to greet them anyway.

“I didn’t know you had a baby”, Hoseok said excitedly and hugged you just as tight as always. “Congrats to the mother!” He looked over your shoulder to Namjoon. “And the father.”

“Why do I have the feeling whatever Jin said wasn’t referring to an actual infant?” Yoongi grumbled as he mustered your reaction.

“Because apparently Jin has decided to turn Jungkook younger than he actually is.”

“You have a child?!” Hoseok practically screamed and grabbed your upper arms, shaking you slightly. “When did that happen?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?! Who is the godfather?”

You wanted to cry or rip your hair out in despair, though your irritation settled with a simple twitch of your eyelid. “I don’t have a child either.”

“Then who is Jungkook?” Hoseok tilted his head to one side, resembling a confused dog with his large, questioning eyes.

You sighed and moved out of Hoseok’s grip. “Jungkook is my student. Remember the naturally talented dancer? That’s Jungkook.”

“So where is that student of yours?” Yoongi walked into the living room, greeting Namjoon on the way before he sat down on the couch and got comfortable. His eyes quickly moved towards the door upon noticing a movement.

You followed his gaze, seeing Jungkook nervously stepping from one foot to the other. When you two locked eyes, his basically screamed for help. Before you were able to bribe him though, Jin had found him standing in the doorway as well.

He immediately walked over to Jungkook and slung his arm around the younger one, pulling him into the living room. “This is Happy”, Jin introduced and pointed towards Hoseok, who was grinning from one ear to the other and waving excitedly towards Jungkook. “And this is Grumpy.” Jin now pointed at Yoongi, who glared at the older man, rolling his eyes once he deemed there wouldn’t be a correct introduction from him.

“Actually their names are Hoseok and Yoongi”, you said and briefly explained why Jin called you and those two by nicknames.

Jin ignored your statement and pulled Jungkook towards the couch, placing him right next to Yoongi. 

“Maybe Jungkook should have invited some friends over as well to feel less uncomfortable”, Yoongi mentioned while grabbing a pamphlet for takeout.

“Oh, the more the merrier! It would have been so much fun!” Hoseok agreed and nodded excitedly.

Your gaze wandered from your friends to Jungkook, feeling your stomach drop when you saw how timid he sat on the couch. “I didn’t even think about that”, you admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Despite that you continued to worry about it. You glanced at Jungkook every now and then, drifting deeper into your own thoughts. You’ve never seen him with one of his classmates. You wondered whether he had friends outside of school but somehow your intuition told you there were none.

“Hoseok, are you still working as a dance instructor? Once Jin gives the go, is it possible for Jungkook to join your dance classes?” 

You piped up again when Namjoon suddenly asked Hoseok that question.

“Yeah, turned into a full-time job now”, Hoseok answered with a bright grin, “I even changed majors for it!”

“Then Jungkook and I could stop by again?” You asked quickly, leaning forward and imploring Hoseok’s eyes. You missed Namjoon’s knowing smirk, having guided you towards a direction that somewhat helped you out of your worrying.

“Of course!” Hoseok clapped into his hands and jumped up, showing some smooth movements to an inaudible beat. “You’re always welcome!”

You turned your attention to Jungkook. “Would you like to go again? It could be an escape from hanging around me all the time.” You laughed softly, remembering at one point in your life you needed your alone time from everything and everyone.

Jungkook nodded hesitantly, mumbling something about not minding being around you and immediately getting teased by Jin for that.

You smiled and leaned back, satisfied you found a way for him to get in contact with some peers. “Would you mind joining us?” You whispered towards Namjoon, who had wrapped his arms around your body again, pulling you close against his body. 

“I’m no dancer”, he simply told you and kissed your temple, watching with you how Jungkook warmed up to your group of friends.

~~~

Ever since that afternoon Jin, Yoongi and Hoseok have dropped by your place more often. Especially Jin, who made up the most ridiculous excuses to visit. At one point Yoongi simply agreed with such an excuse and came over as well, ignoring your stares throughout the night since you couldn’t believe he would do such a thing.

It took you a while to understand why Yoongi did such things, until you watched him place some of his food on Jungkook’s plate once he noticed the younger one ate all his meat.

“How is your house coming along?” You asked Yoongi casually. “I’m sorry I haven’t been helping you out as much anymore.”

Yoongi shrugged with his shoulders, placing more meat on Jungkook’s plate. “It’s not done but I’m able to live in it now.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Eh.” Yoongi scrunched up his nose, not entirely agreeing with you. “It’s quite spacious.”

Jin immediately chimed in, grinning brightly as he laid his arm around the smaller man's shoulder. “So you want all our meetings now at your place. You could have told us so!”

You grinned awkwardly and turned your attention back to Yoongi. On one hand you’d be delighted to meet up somewhere that wouldn’t get as crowded as your living room but on the other hand you didn’t want to pass the problem to someone else.

“You guys would be staying for a day or something and then the house is empty again, not really helpful.” Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes, scooping some rice into his mouth. He looked at you for a long moment before he shortly glanced over to Jungkook and the makeshift bed, he had been sleeping on for a month now, and looked back at you again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask”, he mumbled and you were barely able to hear him over he chattering of the others, “the house offers lots of space and rooms.”

You tilted your head to the side, unsure what Yoongi was hinting at. Your gaze wandered around the group and your - in comparison - tiny living room before it landed back on Yoongi. You frowned and blinked several times, gently shaking your head. 

“Your apartment is only meant to be for one person, yet three people are living in it.”

“Are you asking us to move in?” You turned to look at Namjoon, realising he followed the whole conversation already. You raised your eyebrows, silently asking him for his opinion and leaning further into his embrace.

“It would be nice for the kiddo”, he murmured into your ear, “and I don’t mind as long as we’re together.”

“You sound like a dad”, you teased him and kissed his cheek, giggling when Namjoong pulled you harder against himself while growling softly.

Yoongi cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of everyone inside the living room. “So? What do you say?”

You felt how all eyes moved to you, staring at you somewhat expectantly and curiously. “I don’t know what to say”, you answered him hesitantly, “it’s your home. I don’t want to intrude.”

“I’m offering you to make it our home. Jin and Hoseok already agreed to move in. It’s just you now.”

“But I can’t speak for Namjoon or Jungkook!”

Namjoon chuckled lowly and kissed your cheek. “I already told you I don’t mind where we live as long as we’re together.”

“And Jungkook here refuses to leave without you”, Jin added and jabbed the younger man’s side while laughing.

You looked at Jungkook with wide eyes, surprised to hear that. At the same time you noticed how he blushed and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“So?” Yoongi repeated his question. “What do you say?”

You shrugged with your shoulders, shaking your head in disbelief. “I, uh, I’m saying yes, sure, why not.”

~~~

It still took some time for you to pack and move out of your apartment. You were sure it would have been a lot more without Jungkook and Namjoon by your side, who both willingly carried all the boxes and bags, so you basically didn’t have to lift a finger at all.

At Yoongi’s house Jungkook got his own room on the same floor as yours and Namjoon’s room. He also spent more time on his own or tagged along with the others - especially Hoseok to join the dance classes, where he met Jimin and Taehyung.

Both of them regularly came over after classes, playing with Jungkook or even helping out with the continuous renovations. 

Somehow they fit in perfectly with the group. None of you ever questioned them being around and it happened more often than not that one of you even invited Jimin and Taehyung over.

~~~

You sat on the steps of the porch, observing the younger ones and Hoseok playing foot-minton on the grass. You nursed a glass of lemonade in your hands, smiling at the peaceful atmosphere. From inside you heard Jin and Yoongi cooking in the kitchen, bickering and sounding like an elderly couple.

Namjoon sat down behind you, gently pulling you closer into his lap and wrapping his arms around your middle. “What’s on your mind?” He kissed your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“That I might be pushing a few classes to a later point.”

He chuckled softly and tightened his hold on you. “What made you consider that?” He knew you must have been thinking about it for quite some time now as you actually said it out loud.

“I want to spend more time with you. With all of you. But with all the classes I barely have any freetime. I also decided to quit tutoring since all these brats don’t want to show up in the first place.” You laughed softly and leaned into Namjoon, resting your head against his chest.

“I like the sound of that.” 

“Not in front of the kids!” Jin yelled out as he carried two dishes out to the large table on the porch. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“At least the same amount of times as I have to tell you that we’re not doing anything”, you argued back, unable to keep the grin from your lips. “Also the guys aren’t our kids, Hoseok’s even the same age as Namjoon.”

“The way you’re mothering them they are your kids”, Yoongi chimed in, carrying more dishes out of the house.

You leaned around Namjoon to playfully glare at Yoongi. “Sure you’re the right one to say that? I could list you a whole lot of incidents where you’re basically worse than me. Do you want it alphabetically or in order based on the time?”

The bickering between you caught the attention of the players on the grass. “Honestly? All of you act like our parents at times”, Taehyung said with a snicker, laughing even more when Jimin nodded enthusiastically.

“Or better”, Jungkook added shyly, glancing towards you and Namjoon.

You smiled at him, stretching one hand out towards him. Your smile widened even more when he grabbed your hand. You pulled him towards you, giggling upon hearing his surprised yelp. Still, he wrapped his arms around you for a hug, basically melting into your embrace.

Taehyung and Jimin leaped forward, joining the hug with giggles. You weren’t able to see them but you felt Jin and Hoseok joining the hug as well, followed by some muffled groaning and another quick impact, indicating Yoongi joined the hug too.

“I gladly accept you as my family”, Jungkook whispered into your neck, tightening his hold on you. 

“You are part of the family. All of you.”

© all rights reserved  

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​

[seungbins]

my reward for surviving this week is getting to see the ly seoul movie on saturday

[bokettochild]

Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS

So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.

It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.

Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing.  (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?”  The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”

[blu-joons]

When He Carries An Item Specifically For You ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

His eyes watched as you began to walk around the kitchen, tucking your hair behind your ears again and again to try and keep it out of the way. “Here,” Jin smiled, taking off a band from around his wrist.

You glanced back at him as he held out the hairband, scraping all your hair to the back of your head. “Where did you find that? I’ve searched the kitchen from top to bottom for one.”

“I always have this one on me,” he proudly informed you, tying up a ponytail for you. “I know how much you like to have a hairband, so now I’ve always got one on me.”

Your eyes glanced back at him, “I would never have thought that would have been something you would do, it’s really thoughtful.”

“Anything to make your life easier,” he hummed, turning back to the food, and also make sure none of your hair ends up in my meal too.”

“Yeah, I guess that is another advantage of wearing a band for you.”

Yoongi:

You let go of a groan as you noticed how low the battery on your phone had become whilst travelling on the back of the bus. “Wait a minute,” Yoongi mused once he noticed what you were annoyed about.

You watched him run over to his bag, returning a few moments later with a phone bank in his hand. “I knew your phone would probably run out of battery, so I packed this in advance.”

“Really?” You chuckled, quickly plugging it into your phone to give the battery a bit of a boost. “I never even knew that you had one of these on you, how long have you had it?”

He sat himself back down beside you, “I bought it in case of emergencies, a bit like this one. I’ve just never needed to get it out before.”

“You’re a life saver,” you chuckled, placing your phone down on the table, “thank you for doing something so kind for me Yoongi.”

“One day you’ll listen to me and get a new phone too.”

Hoseok:

You fumbled around in your bag, desperately searching for the pen that you were convinced you had in there. “I’ve got one, don’t worry,” Hobi assured you, searching into the bottom of his own bag.

Your hopeful eyes watched him, letting go of a huge sigh of relief when he pulled a pen out from his rucksack. “I didn’t realise you carried around such meaningless things in that bag of yours.”

“I don’t usually,” he laughed, “but I know how often you lose your pens, so I thought it would be safer to keep one in mine, and then you can always write down your ideas.”

You quickly scribbled down your notes on your pad of paper, “I can’t believe you ever thought to do something so sweet for me, and I didn’t even notice.”

“The point was that you weren’t to notice,” he smirked, kissing the side of your head. “Or at least you wouldn’t even if you kept a better hold of your pens.”

“I promise, I’ll keep them safer with me from now on.”

Namjoon:

You were oblivious to your hand that picked at the dry skin on your lips as you sat down in the café until a hand stretched across the table. “This might solve your problems,” Namjoon told you.

Your eyes looked across to see him extending a lip balm from his back pocket to you. “Where did you even find this? Have you got some sort of magical bag that I don’t know about?”

“I noticed how often your lips dry up, so I thought it would be helpful to have a lip balm on me at all times,” he told you, as if the whole thing were no big deal.

As soon as you’d applied the balm, everything felt much easier. “It’s a big deal Namjoon, to know you care that much means a lot to me.”

“If it makes your life easier, then it’s nothing,” he smiled, placing it back in his pocket once you were done. “How does that feel, better?”

“It feels a lot better now, thank you so much Joon.”

Jimin:

As soon as you walked into the studio and out of the window your hands were running through your hair to unknot it. “I’ve got this,” Jimin suddenly spoke, pulling you gently to one side of the room.

The feeling of a brush running through your hair suddenly took you by surprise, as you glanced back to see what he was doing. “I didn’t realise you had brushes lying around the studio.”

“They’re not, I just put this one in my bag when I saw the weather because I know how funny you are about your windswept hair,” he told you, removing every single knot for you.

Once he was done, you brushed your hands through your hair with ease. “I don’t even know what to say, that’s such a sweet thing for you to do.”

“It’s one less thing for you to worry about,” he hummed, kissing the top of your head. “And now your hair looks perfect once again.”

“No one would ever be able to tell, thanks to you.”

Taehyung:

Your hands scratched at each other as you tried to distract yourself from how quickly they were drying up, when a tube of hand cream was placed into your lap. “I think this might be some use to you now.”

You glanced across at Taehyung, who simply shrugged his shoulders back at you. “Did you just pull this out of your bag? I didn’t even realise that you carried hand cream around with you.”

“I never used to, until I met you,” he informed you, taking the lid off for you. “But I know how important it is to you, so I decided to start having one with me.”

Your eyes lit up, smiling at how much more comfortable your hands now were. “I never even noticed; you really can be adorable sometimes.”

“Someone has to look after you seeing as you always forget to carry hand cream with you,” he teased, placing it back into his bag.”

“I’m very lucky indeed to have you look after me.”

Jungkook:

He knew as soon as you arrived at the BigHit building that you’d race off to find a mirror, solving the issue for you this time around. “You look perfect,” he spoke, holding up a mirror in front of your face.

It was only a small pocket sized one, but it was perfect for you to check your makeup in. “Well, that’s just saved me a job. I didn’t realise you liked to carry mirrors around with you.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” he laughed, “I know exactly what you’re like. You love to check your makeup as soon as you arrive, so now I can help you in doing it.”

Your head shook, as you checked your reflection. “I can’t believe you know me that well. I can’t help that I look to look my best at your workplace.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he assured you, “but in my opinion, you always look good. You don’t need to worry about checking yourself at all.”

“You always did end up knowing the right things to say.”

---

Masterlist

[escapewithbts]

Forgetful - Seokjin

———————————————

You sat at the two person table by yourself just staring mindlessly at the menu. You could probably recite the whole entree list by heart at this point.

The dimly lit restaurant was crowded and filled with noises; dishes clanking, people laughing, the soft tune of music. It would have been the perfect atmosphere… had you not been there alone.

 You sighed and glanced at your beautiful (and expensive) watch… one of the many gifts given to you by your boyfriend last Christmas.

 It was 8:43. Your reservation had been for 43 minutes ago.

 “Excuse me,” the perfect-looking hostess came up to you for the third time and spoke to you in Korean, “but we are super busy, as you can probably tell, and if you’re not going to order then we really need your table.”

 You frowned and glanced down at your phone. Still no texts or missed calls.

 “I know, I’m so sorry, can I just wait until nine? I don’t know why he’s taking so long, I’m sure he’s on his way…”

 “So you’ve said,” she replied with a fake smile, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and walking away.

 Wow rude, much?

 You stared at your phone, your vision becoming blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You hoped everything was okay with him. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he forgot.

 You scrolled through his texts, the last from this morning around 10:30am saying he was beginning the shoot for the latest Run BTS! Episode and he would see you later. You assumed that meant here.

But he never showed.

 You touched his contact to give him a call, but again it just rang and rang until you were again met with the automatic voicemail. You sighed and typed him another text.

Hey I’m leaving the restaurant now. I hope you’re okay. Please call or text when you get this.

 Then you grabbed your things, stood up and walked towards the exit of the restaurant.

 “Oh my god, it’s about time she left,” you heard the hostess whisper to someone as you walked passed her podium, “She claimed to be meeting a member of BTS here for dinner!”

 Her snickering was the last thing you heard as you pushed open the door and went back out into the warm Seoul night.

By the time you made it home to your and Jin’s shared apartment you were exhausted and your feet absolutely ached from the heels you were wearing. You unlocked the door and went inside, immediately removing them and rubbing your swollen soles.

All of a sudden, you heard noises coming from the living room. Jin was home?

When you turned the corner there he was, sitting on the couch, laughing at some show playing on the tv and eating ramen from a bowl on his lap.

Your heart sank. He was okay. So what you had feared was true after all. He just forgot.

Forgot your one-year anniversary dinner.

“Oh hi, (y/n)-ah!” he exclaimed when he finally noticed you standing there, a heap of noodles dangling out of his mouth.

He swallowed them and continued,

“Wow, you look really pretty! Did you go out with your friends?”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a couple fell down your cheeks before you could stop them. You tried to swipe them away abruptly with the back of your hand but Jin still noticed.

“Jagi, what’s wrong?”

He set his bowl on the coffee table in front of him and rose from his seat on the couch to walk over to you.

He reached his arms out to hold you, but you instantly stepped back to avoid his embrace.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows confusingly, his large red lips turning into a frown.

“Jagiya? Is everything okay?”

You sniffled and glared at him.

“So you just don’t check your phone anymore?”

He immediately reached into the front pocket of his trousers and pulled it out.

“Aiishh it must have still been on silent from the shoot today. I’m sorry if I missed-”

He stopped mid sentence as he finally observed all your missed calls and read your texts.

His face fell.

“Oh… fuck. (y/n). Shit.”

He looked up at you, an expression of worry and guilt evident on his handsome face.

“(y/n), jagi, I’m so so so sorry. Fuck! I-I completely forgot. I got caught up with work and- ”

You put your hand up to silence him.

“I don’t want to hear it, Seokjin.”

He winced. He knew you only called him by his full first name on two occasions: one when you were really really pissed at him, the other when he was making really really good love to you… and right now it certainly was not the latter.

You brushed passed him and headed toward the hallway. You were tired and hurt, and now to top it all off you had a massive headache. All you wanted to do at this point was take a shower, go to bed and forget this evening ever happened.

But you heard Jin follow you toward your shared bedroom.

“(y/n), please, I’m really sorry. I know there aren’t any excuses. I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

You scoffed, not turning back to face him.

“Yeah, you think?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

“Well, what if-what if we celebrate now? I can cook you up some really delicious food, all your favorite foods from home! And-and we can light some candles, have dinner, spend the whole rest of the night together…”

You stopped in the bedroom doorway and swung your whole body around to face him again.

“No. It’s too late, Jin. I waited at the restaurant for an hour for you. I’m exhausted, okay? I just want to go to bed,” you paused, “So please. Just leave me alone.”

Jin’s shoulders fell in defeat as his gaze went to the floor. His arm lifted to scratch the back of his neck.

“O-okay,” he whispered.

Then he squinted his eyes tightly shut, and that was the last thing you saw as you let the bedroom door close in his face.

The warm shower felt amazing on your body, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued your mind while in there. Jin had forgotten arguably the most important date in a relationship. What was next? Your birthday? The next anniversary? It made you feel like your relationship wasn’t important to him, like you were an afterthought. It hurt your heart.

Once you were clean and out of the shower, you changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your head still ached immensely; you had hoped the shower would have fixed that, but all that overthinking had only made it worse. You knew Jin usually kept some pain medication in his nightstand for when his body was sore after a particularly grueling day of dancing, so you proceeded to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching for the top drawer.

Immediately upon opening it you spotted a red envelope, “My (y/n)” written across the top in Jin’s messy handwriting. You hesitated for a second whether or not to investigate it, but ultimately, with a shaky hand, you pulled it out. You took a deep breath before opening it and removing the card inside.

In an elegant font, the front of the card read ‘Happy Anniversary to the one I want to annoy for the rest of my days’, and written on the inside ‘Hey, that’s you!’.

You couldn’t help but stifle out a small chuckle, accompanied with an eye roll, of course. It was so Jin. Your Jin.

Your eyes then scanned his handwritten message next.

Jagiya,

 Congratulations! You have been chosen by WWH Worldwide Handsome Kim Seokjin himself as the person who gets to be annoyed by him for the rest of your life! Don’t you feel so honored? It’s a coveted position, there’s only one spot, and you got it! We’ll talk about the details later 😉

No, but seriously, my (y/n), thank you for putting up with me for a whole year. I know I can be pretty obnoxious, silly, stupid, goofy, forgetful (ha, he got that one right for sure), busy and sometimes moody, but you have stuck with me through it all and I appreciate it. You are so special and I hope you know how lucky I feel to have you. You’re so supportive and patient and kind. I can’t wait to share many more anniversaries with you.

All my love,

Jin

You clutched the card to your chest, tears streaming down your face again. But this time you weren’t upset. You were touched. His words definitely didn’t excuse what he did (or rather didn’t do) this evening, but at least you knew how he truly felt about you. He really did love you. Your heart suddenly felt full.

You stood up, holding the card tightly, opening the bedroom door to go find him.

 “Jin?” you yelled down the hall. But, to your surprise, he was right outside the bedroom doorway, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his long legs spread out in front of him, his phone in his hands.

“Jin I-“

But he quickly stood up and turned his phone to face you.

“Jagiya, look I downloaded an app where you can save all your important dates! And you can set it up for reminders days, even weeks beforehand! So I put in today, of course, and your birthday, but please don’t think I would ever forget that, and the day we went on our first date, the day I first cooked for you, the day-“

He stopped speaking when you suddenly stood on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He immediately wrapped his around your lower back and squeezed you into him.

 “I’m just so sorry, jagi.” he mumbled into your hair.

You nodded against his broad shoulder.

“I know.”

You pulled away and presented the card.

“I found this.”

Jin’s ears promptly turned bright red and he closed his eyes tightly. Then he put his head in his hands.

“Aiissh, it’s so cheesy, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hand on his upper arm, making him glance back down at you.

“No, Jinnie, not at all. It’s perfect. I loved it.”

He smiled, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes.

“See? I didn’t completely forget! I knew it was coming up. I just didn’t exactly remember when we were going to dinner and I should have-”

You placed your lips on his in a tender kiss to shut him up again. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were completely touching before you broke apart, still attached at the foreheads.

“Mmm Happy One Year Anniversary, my (y/n)-ah,” he breathed out.

You nuzzled your face into his strong neck.

“Happy Anniversary, my Worldwide Handsome.”

*

Masterlist

Hehe

[maplecornia]

chapter 30

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.85K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: another yoongles focus lol i just figured out that i really don't have much to say in these things anymore, i might save the a/n's for the end next time

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @canarystwin | @cana

This is not exactly how you expected to meet Min Yoongi.

His hand tightens around your wrist as he drags you through the halls of BigHit, and you silently pray that your small legs can keep up.

Looking up at him, you can't help but be a bit confused.

Why is he so angry anyway?

You didn't do anything to him.

Certainly nothing worth yanking your arms off.

Wincing as he turns a corner, your eyes widen as he opens a door and practically shoves you inside a dark room. You stumble a bit, an inner instinct inside of you resurfacing. You find yourself frantically looking for any form of exit, any form of a way out. When you find none, you swallow hard, feeling your hands palpitate with cold sweat and your breathing run short. Turning briskly to where Yoongi stands in front of the door, you step forward, ready to push past him and bolt before you’re hurt, but the look in his eyes stops you.

They’re soft, confused and slightly caught off guard. You wonder if the fear that prickles off of your skin is as evident to him as it is to you. Taking a deep breath, you swallow hard, trying hard not to show your discomfort. Inwardly, you chastise yourself for even considering that Min Yoongi would have any malicious intent towards you, but you can't help it when put into a situation like this...

Dark room.

Blocked exits.

No way of escape.

You can't help but be on your guard.

A bit confused, but choosing not to question it, Yoongi gestures towards a clothing rack to the left. Blinking, you turn towards it, begging yourself to relax. When he advances into the room, however, you flinch and frantically back up, straight into a tray of forgotten makeup and hair products.

He immediately stops at the reaction, and you downcast your eyes shamefully praying he doesn’t realize what you’ve tried so hard to cover up. However, as he takes in your frightened eyes, tense stance, and the shallow breath, he knows that somehow he has triggered a memory.

From the looks of it, even a form of trauma.

Definitely not what I expected.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on the light before turning to you with his hands up in a form of surrender. Almost a peace treaty. "Relax, I'm just trying to get a shirt for you."

You swallow hard, already feeling a bit better with the light on. Chuckling nervously, you straighten and nod, running your hand through your hair.

"O-of course you were. What else would you be doing?" you try to swallow the sudden rise of bile in your throat as you rub your arms violently to ease the chill your memories have brought you.

Yeah.

What else indeed.

Confused, but choosing to leave matters out of his hand alone, Yoongi returns to his task and rummages through the clothes dangling on the coat rack. Once he's found his prize, he turns to you and throws it towards you. Your eyes widening, you hardly catch it before he's already heading out of the door.

"Shirt." He explains bluntly, and you nod, a bit surprised that he used English. You smile inwardly at the sentiment, however. The small taste of home certainly helped you to regain your composure. You give a weak smile and tighten your grip around the shirt, hoping that it would be a better outlet to release the emotions bottled inside.

"Thank you." You murmur, and he nods before turning to leave.

He almost makes it out the door, but when he remembers something, he turns back to you.

"Do you know the way back?"

"Back...?" you mutter, a bit confused, and he rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to smile.

Looks like she's back to normal.

"To the dressing room, you're supposed to help us with the photo shoot today." Your eyes widen at his explanation, and you faintly remember your soiled schedule. Cursing under your breath, you wish you had at least taken a picture of the thing before heading to perform your duties. Maybe then you'd have a backup.

Well, guess that's a good thing to remember next time.

Realizing Yoongi is still waiting for a reply, you snap out of your reverie and smile.

"Oh, yes. I think I can manage." He nods before turning around and finally leaving you alone, the door closing with a few words of encouragement.

"Hurry up."

With that, the door is shut firmly behind him and you let out a small breath.

Well, no need to be so cold.

But then again, it was kind of him to offer you a shirt and not to pry when you had that slight panic attack. If you can even call it that. Sighing, you turn to the mirror and place your hands on the desk, staring deep into your hollow eyes.

It wasn't always this way.

There was a time when these eyes sparkled with life. When they were filled with joy and happiness, not a care in the world. Where you could smile without a weight on your heart dragging you down. Where you could live without feeling guilty of it.

Why do you feel guilty?

He deserved what he got.

He deserved to die for what he did to you.

“But still...he was my father.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hardly notice it as your teeth pierce through your skin and blood begins to trickle down your chin. Only when the taste of iron on your tongue pierces through do you realize. Flinching, you shakily wipe the blood away and lick your bottom lip as though that will erase the pain bound tightly to your heart.

No, nothing can erase this.

I don't think anything ever will.

Swallowing hard, you choose to forget that which is best not to be pondered over. Turning the shirt Yoongi found for you, you slowly unbutton your own, pulling it out of the plaid skirt you've garnered today. You're thankful Yoongi has managed to find you a similar shirt to the one you brought in today. A white button-up that reminds you of the 19th century. Something a high-class man would wear to a gala per se. You smirk at the ruffles at the end of your sleeves and try to avoid your reflection in the mirror as you pull it on over your bra.

The only thing you would see would be another daily dose of self-deprecation and hatred.

You'd rather stop before it started.

Once the shirt is buttoned and tucked safely in your skirt, a few small touches added by you in order to fit your look, you look at your reflection and smile faintly. For a man's shirt, it fits your frame quite snugly. You wonder who exactly it belongs to, but figure you could just ask Yoongi later.

This should do nicely.

Smiling weakly in satisfaction, you turn to the door and open it.

You weren't expecting to see a very fatigued Yoongi leaning against the wall right next to the entrance. So you'd say your reaction was justified.

He would probably think otherwise.

At your shriek, he jumps halfway out of the air before turning to you in surprise.

"What the hell was that?!" He cries, and your eyes widen in ignorance.

"Me?! What about you? I thought you were going back to the dressing room!"

"Well, I--" he breaks off, finding nothing to say, and you raise an eyebrow in confusion. Swallowing hard, he turns his face away from you. "You were taking too long."

Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

Sorry, but I didn't think I was on a time clock.

"Besides, I didn't trust you to get there on your own." He explains, turning back to you with a scowl. You narrow your eyes at him yourself before noticing the slight rosy hue to his cheeks.

Is he...embarrassed?

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head before brushing past you and heading back the way you came.

"Let's go."

You stand there in stunned silence before turning to his retreating figure. Smirking a bit to yourself, you scoff in disbelief before jogging to catch up to him. You want to thank him for his help, but as the two of you head back, you find it hard to start a conversation with him.

Biting the inside of your cheek you turn to him, trying to study his expression.

He definitely has some sort of hidden animosity towards you even though the two of you have never met before now. However, he doesn't seem to hate you. He's been kind to you so far. In his own...weird way. But if he doesn't hate you then what's the reason for his behavior? Sometimes he seems perfectly fine, and then others he seems to be incredibly angry by your presence.

Then again...your presence is sort of foreign to him.

Maybe he just needs time warming up?

"She's hardly qualified."

Or maybe...

He knows you don't belong here.

"Do you need something?"

Jolting back to reality, you blink and find Yoongi to be regarding you with a perplexed gaze. Quickly, you snatch your eyes away and laugh nervously. You hadn't realized you were gawking at him this whole time.

"No, it's nothing..."

His expression changes as soon as you look away, darkens into something nearly unrecognizable. Turning away, he swallows hard, as though holding himself back. You, however, find this as a perfect outlet to start a conversation.

"I was just...wondering...W-why are you doing the shoot here?"

He shrugs, trying to avoid your gaze as much as possible.

"It's more convenient this way. Does the shirt fit?"

"Hm? Oh! Uhm, yes it does. Thank you."

He nods in response.

"Good, that was Enhypen's dressing room. They hardly use it other than the times they visit our company for shoots and such. Sunoo has a smaller build than most in our company so I thought it'd work best for you." He examines the shirt on you, and you can't help but blush, half wondering if you should cover-up. "Hm. It's tight in some areas but definitely better than wearing something like Jimin's."

You blush profusely at the comment and cross your arms around your chest. You have half a mind to smack him right then and there, but as a group of employees pass by you, you're forced to hold back. He smirks in satisfaction at your reaction, and you scowl.

"I see...thank you." You mutter between gritted teeth. He doesn't respond, just continues to smile that smug smile. Turning the corner, you find yourself in another realm of silence, but this time you don't really have the urge to talk to him.

He on the other hand...

"Has BangPD talked to you yet?"

Your ears perk at that and you turn to him, shocked.

How did he...

"I'm sorry?"

"About being a trainee." He replies with that debonair air about him. Swallowing hard, it takes you a while to respond.

“How did you know?” He gives a look at the ambiguous answer, but you meet it as an equally indignant one. You feel as though you have a right to know, and you won’t answer him so easily about something you weren’t aware he even knew about. Sighing when it’s clear you won’t give in as easily as he thought, he answers you.

“BangPD met with us to discuss your training.”

“‘Us?’ You mean...”

“Yes, BTS. He said as shareholders of the company, it was only right for us to know he was considering training you. He wanted our opinion.”

In short, they were deciding your life before you even had a chance to decide.

You don’t know why, but the thought puts a sick feeling in your stomach. The fact that a group of people were discussing whether or not to trust you, to accept you without even half of them getting a chance to know you or your abilities...Who gave them the right to decide that? Who gave them the right to take control of your future?

And what if you say yes? Do they even want you to succeed? What if they do? What if saying no let down their expectations? Why weren’t you told about this? Why weren’t you a part of the conversation?

Was it really too much of a risk?

"So?" He prompts before pausing in front of an elevator door and pressing the up button to the dressing room. "What did you say?"

You give him a look, hoping that will let him know that you don't want to talk about this anymore, but he doesn't seem to care. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly and you find that even if you wanted to, you wouldn't know what to say.

Does he think that this is an easy decision? There are things to consider, your future to think about, people who could be affected...

But really, what is there to consider?

You don't have anything to lose, not really.

And this is your dream.

So why are you hesitating?

You know why.

At the soft ding of the elevator arriving, you break eye contact and turn as the doors open. Stepping inside, you watch the doors slide shut before answering him.

"He told me to think about it."

Yoongi scoffs at the answer, biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He knew it'd be like this.

"What's there to think about?" At the question, you flinch but refuse to meet his eyes. "It's a yes or no question."

You bite your lip furiously, at war with yourself.

It's not like he's wrong but...

Yoongi glances at her from the corner of his eye and wonders what exactly everyone sees in her. He wonders what makes her so special. From what he's seen, she's incredibly ordinary. Sure she has a beautiful voice, her face is nice, but she can stand to lose a few pounds especially if she wants to be an idol.

Does she even want to be a performer?

There are so many others who have tried their whole life just to be considered for what they're offering here, and what?

It's too hard of a decision?

Animosity growing like a drug, he scoffs turning away.

"I was against it, you know." You turn to him, a bit confused at the statement. He sighs before continuing, a bit piqued at your behavior. "Your contract. I didn't want you to be considered as a trainee."

You should feel surprised. You should feel wronged, angry. But you feel none of those things. Instead, you understand him.

Smiling a bit bitterly, you turn back to the metal doors.

"I see." You reply, and he turns to you in confusion.

"You're not mad?" You shrug before turning to him.

"Why would I be?" He scoffs at the reply.

"Most would feel offended."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I'm grateful."

Surprised, he turns to you. "Why?"

"At least you didn't lie or cover it up." You explain matter of factly and he shakes his head at you in disbelief as the elevator dings, announcing your arrival.

"It would've been better if I had." He mutters half to himself as the two of you depart, bowing politely to a few employees waiting to board the elevator. You shrug at the statement before glancing his way.

"Well, maybe I don't like people who beat around the bush."

He can't help but feel a bit stunned as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him. He can't help but feel that he'll always be a few steps behind you. Shaking the feeling away, he peers your way.

"Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Debuting."

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer. Biting your bottom lip in concentration you consider the question.

Are you scared to debut?

"Yes."

Who wouldn't be after all? It's scary not knowing if the public will view you positively or immediately cast you aside. It's scary not knowing whether or not your dream will be achieved, whether or not you'll make it.

"Is that why you're hesitating?"

Spying the dressing room a few feet away, you shake your head at his question before replying.

"No."

You can deal with that fear...but what you're even more afraid of is betrayal.

Like what happened last time.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment and watches as you get that faraway look in your eye, the same look that tells him you're not really here. When the two of you reach the dressing room once again, he can't help but pause a few feet away from you. He has the sudden urge just to look at you, maybe then he'd be able to understand.

"You're not what I thought you were." He mutters, not sure if you can hear him, but at your smile, he knows you never stopped listening. You smile at him over your shoulder.

"I guess I don't like beating around the bush either."

𝔞/𝔫: i feel like this offers a lot of background to yen's past...which may be revealed soon

chapter 31 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[yeojaa]

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween.  What he loves more than that?  You.

pairing.  gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating.   idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded.  it’s just that fluffy.  (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings.  established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower. 

wc.  9.7k

beta reader(s).  the lovely @kerikaaria​​​ read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy.  tysm!  💛  i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif​ gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly.  oops... 

author note.  this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo​‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves.  while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside.  i hope you enjoy it!   

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened.  You remember, faintly, the mention of a party.  Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc.  He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought.  If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway.  Win-win or whatever.  

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge.  Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean. 

“Zarya’s one!  Zarya’s one—“  You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen.  You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too.  There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch.  “Zarya’s actually one!” 

No one cares.  She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map. 

“Jesus—“  Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue.  You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.  

I need healing!  I need healing! 

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way.  Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though.  There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point.  Stupid.  You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support. 

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked.  So infuriating and yet— nope.  Just infuriating. 

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise.  Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise.  He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face.  You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru.  He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team.  A silver lining, you suppose.  

Your second round starts well enough.  Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta.  Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana.  You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn.  Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost.  (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado.  The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong.  Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter. 

“You winning?” 

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction.  You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.  

(It’s not your own fault.  He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!”  You want to be more mad.  Really, you do.  You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long.  Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn. 

“What?”  Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime. 

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves.  All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.  

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder.  You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days.  You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery. 

It’s a little distracting;  he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual.  You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck.  Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see;  it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over.  You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication.  (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.) 

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so.  You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words). 

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet. 

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya?  She has grav.”  Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon.  Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock.  If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game. 

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void.  Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces.  Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next.  Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,”  says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head.  He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match.  It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.  

“Rip is right,”  you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map.  If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms.  Jungkook chuckles at that.  

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well.  There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested.  Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”  

You don’t turn your head.  Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you.  Sometimes, you love it;  other times, you hate it.  Most times, though, he’s right.  He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame). 

“Can we go top left?”  You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main.  Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team.  Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited.  “You should be back right by the stairs.  You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point.  Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav.  She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you.  As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen. 

“Told you,”  he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore. 

“I was going to say thank you.”  Just not right now.  You can’t multitask quite like he can. 

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display.  “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock.  Thank freaking god.  You can win this, you think.  Easy.  No problem. 

“Go Ana on defense.”  At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth.  You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin. 

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time.  He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you just want to play?”  You don’t mean it seriously.  You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you.  It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship. 

“Nah, I’m snacking.”  He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.  You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon. 

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions.  He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do.  He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do.  He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t. 

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.  

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair.  You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears. 

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game.  There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back. 

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie.  “We won,”  you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug. 

“Of course you did.”  He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you.  He’d been a great coach. 

“What’re you doing here?”  It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest.  He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair.  (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines.  You don’t care.) 

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.  

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.”  You remember, because you’d been disappointed.  Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,”  he states, like he’s talking to a moron.  You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.  

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen.  Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena.  It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it. 

“Yeah, we,”  Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker.  “Halloween party, baby.  Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises:  (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party?  You didn’t think idols had those.  Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no.  Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.”  It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach.  It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day. 

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face.  It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way.  Why’s he looking at you like that?  Why’s your memory so bad?  Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions? 

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance.  It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage.  A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns. 

“I— don’t remember that.”  You’re lying through your damn teeth.  Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass. 

“But you did!”  He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal.  It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me!  You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate. 

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here.  It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia.  “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular.  You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish. 

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs.  (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs.  You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.)  It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing.  The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames.  Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them;  Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.  

“I don’t think I can pull this off,”  you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious.  (You were, once.  Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.) 

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places.  Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest.  You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it.  (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention.  Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you.  You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp.  A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue.  “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance.  It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway.  “You have to say that.  You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have to say anything,”  he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten.  It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot.  It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart.  “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then.  He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened.  He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom.  How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure.  All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up;  yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug.  You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.  

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson.  They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay—  that was scary.  I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.”  A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees.  It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?”  You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there.  He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms;  he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh.  His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised;  Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer.  (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.”  Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end.  It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature.  You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee.  Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact.  A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious.  You look—”  You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose.  A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon.  “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it.  Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders.  You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!”  You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself.  All part of his plan, you suppose.  “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.  

“Okay!  Sorry!”  Except he doesn’t look very sorry.  More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you.  You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”  

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie.  You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment.  (Not that you really mind.)  

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip.  It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting.  Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks.  It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love. 

Today, it comes after the fourth count. 

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.”  Well, of course you will.  As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas.  It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams. 

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times.  “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins.  It’s unfairly adorable.  Still, you push.  Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you.  From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted. 

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot.  You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum.  A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to.  You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you;  rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.”  By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful.  The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday. 

It turns out to be the opposite:  one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend.  He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger.  You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another.  For tonight, they’re one and the same. 

“Joker?  Seriously?”  You can’t hide the delight.  It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction.  Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask.  “Don’t sound so excited.”  It’s an actual concern of his.  He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.  

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more.  He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting. 

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky.  You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises.  It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently.  You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared;  you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.”  You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes.  It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes.  It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling.  Bastard.  “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker.  You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter.  He’s dressed this way because you like the character.  

“Oh,”  you say, because there’s not much more to say.  Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it. 

“Yeah,”  he parrots back, a little smug.  

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life.  He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set.  You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better.  (You suppose he is.)  

“Angel, come here!”  He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side.  Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love.  There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).   

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.  

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball.  You don’t mind.  You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.  

“I’m winning,”  he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.  

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh.  Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst.  Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.  

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.”  You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element.  He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some.  It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is).  “How many games have you won?”  Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.”  God, his ego.  You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best.  Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck.  He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you.  To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.  

“Can we play?”  Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks.  You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.  

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs.  Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend.  (How fitting.)  “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch.  “No, you’re just bad at games!”  He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes.  Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink.  In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus.  (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?)  You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily.  Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.”  And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.  

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond.  He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life. 

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”  

“Ahhhhhh, stop!”  It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own.  Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads.  “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!”  You know it isn’t true.  Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines).  But together?  It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.  

You absolutely loved it. 

“Sure, sure,”  the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot.  One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins.  A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour.  You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one.  Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour.  “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.  

“Drink this!”  

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?”  You’re incredulous.  Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl.  It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless.  Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!”  The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too.  “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy?  It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?). 

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it.  Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body.  “Don’t die!”  He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”  

“No, you’re fine.”  He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up.  You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement.  “Your face, oh—  Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane.  You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together.  It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor.  Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms.  You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?”  It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies.  He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile.  “What’re you doing down there?”  

“Just hanging out,”  you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft.  A modern day olive branch.  “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close.  Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like.  It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like.  Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away.  You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness.  “You sound drunk, angel,”  he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek.  It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin.  It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves.  “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,”  comes Jimin from beside you.  There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.  

“That’s the plan,”  Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment.  It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him.  He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation.  When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case.  “Want to head home?”

You do.  You really, really do.   

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are.  Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—”  There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet.  “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway.  “Sorry,”  you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused.  It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.”  He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh.  Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away.  “Here, let me.”  

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time.  (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,”  you tease, clinging to him like a koala.  You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven.  “Or are you the court jester?  That’s what Joker is, right?”  It’s a joke and a bad one at that.  Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.  

“You’re drunk.”  He says it more kindly than you expect.  Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve.  You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded.  There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare.  It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought.  You have to tell him.  Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it.  “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down.  As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands.  (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.)  “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?”  You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon.  You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.”  It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that.  You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style.  You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression.  “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does.  You pout, as you so often do. 

“Okay,”  you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder.  You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings.  “Will you wash my hair?”  You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.”  Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).  

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck.  When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips.  You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat.  Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.”  As if that’s meant to stop you.  He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention.  He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,”  you mumble into the expanse of his chest.  He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable.  You think you could live in the feeling of his arms.  (You’re lucky you get to.)  You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most.  “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation.  You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless.  It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.  

He’d explained it to you once.  Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first.  Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t.  JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm.  Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that.  You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.”  You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon.  You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure.  “Gotta get undressed to shower,”  he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises?  It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”  

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.  

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care.  Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow.  You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep.  He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle.  His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck.  You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight.  You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits.  There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest.  He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.”  The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We are, angel,”  Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back.  It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame.  “Just need to get you warmed up first.”    

“The shower’ll be warm,”  you say - or think you say, anyway.  It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).  

“Do you want me to stop?”  It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off.  Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat.  “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.”  Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern.  You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.  

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise.  “I never want you to stop.”  

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair.  He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted.  “I love you,”  he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.  

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment.  He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off.  You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders.  You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.  

“Start the shower.”  

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that.  You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away.  The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,”  he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream.  He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip.  You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does.  You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside.  It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you.  You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.  

“Hair?”  You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder.  It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.  

“Patience, baby.”  It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess.  He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue.  (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—”  The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand.  Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it.  It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips.  A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit.  The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump.  Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.  

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair.  “Patience,”  he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist.  He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue. 

“Kook,”  you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess.  There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest.  A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.  

“Relax for me.”  You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.  

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more.  You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish.  (You wish you could see him.) 

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him.  (It was.)  He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense.  Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.  

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures.  With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,”  comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care.  Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls.  He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.  

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard.  Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot;  it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.  

“K-Kook.”  It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.  

“I’ve got you.”  And he does - hook, line, and sinker.  He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave.  It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go.  He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn.  See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service.  Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him.  You should recognise the look on his face.  “Kook?”

“My turn.”  It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward.  There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you.  It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in.  “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.  (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed.  In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine.  It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat.  His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear.  It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure.  “Oh fuck,”  he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.  

“Always so good for me.”  Another thing he says, often and without prompting.  It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet.  “Always so perfect for me.”  

“Because I love you,”  you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.  

“Love you too, angel.”  He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway.  He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted.  He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart.  Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust.  An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision;  it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard.  He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high.  You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings. 

“Kook,”  you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower.  The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm.  You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing.  It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.  

“P-please, Kook.  Please.”  You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his.  He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation.  “Come for me, Kook.  Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars.  Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you.  It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs.  You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.  

“I love you,”  he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.  

“I love you,”  you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours.  “But I still need you to wash my hair.”  It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days.  “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.”  Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements.  He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery.  Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.  

“I thought I was an angel.”  You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks.  Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline.  Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice.  “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”  

You can’t argue with that. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​

[minniepetals]

Rose & Thorns: 01

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!jungkook x reader / future!bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 3.4k

— warnings: orphan reader, bits of insecurities kicked in here and there

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

"Hi there."

In the dark and deep dungeon where Jungkook laid, his head perked up at the sound of a lady's voice and his brows furrowed. A girl? What was a girl doing in a part of the village where the villagers have deemed to be the most dangerous zone? Surely guards must have surrounded the area with tough security, right? So how did you manage to go past it?

"I'm Y/N," he heard the voice again and a soft scoff left him.

You were probably just there curious to see the dragon those infamous soldiers have managed to catch.

"I am..." you trailed off and he found himself waiting for what you had to say, "I am the keeper of the dragon."

Keeper.

He never imagined a girl to be a keeper.

"Damn, that sounds weird," he heard you mumble to yourself, a light chuckle leaving your lips. "But anyways," you went on, "it'll be just you and me for a while because no one else wanted to take up the role of the keeper except I. Which is fine, I've always wanted to take up a task as big as this. Oh, and you must be hungry so I brought you food. Trust me though, no one has poisoned it so don't be shy and starve yourself, alright?"

Shy, Jungkook scoffed to himself. What would a dragon ever be shy about? He could rip you to pieces if he wanted.

Too bad the chains around him kept him from escaping and doing anything rash.

He sighed, ignoring your ongoing ramblings and thought back on how in the world he managed to get caught in the first place.

His hyungs have always warned him about going hunting around the areas where humans settled but there was more prey there so he decided to take up the challenge. He should have told someone yet his rebellious side allowed him to go off on his own without a word to his own clan.

That was how the humans got to him, dragon hunters, they'd call themselves.

Stabbed on his arm as he was flying about the sky and near the ground. That didn't entirely weaken him but because of the fact that he was caught off guard and they held spears and ropes, Jungkook struggled to get away so, in the end, he woke up after being unconscious, locked up in some sort of dungeon with his neck chained up that extended to the wall to keep him from escaping.

The chain around his neck was hurting him far more than he expected but what could he do?

Maybe his clan would come looking for him. But with the fact that he had told no one where he was heading off to, Jungkook doubted they'd be able to track him down that easily.

"Are you alright?" You asked him the next day but he gave you no words. Still, despite his silence, you went on and on about all sorts of stories probably out of boredom.

He didn't know what you were doing, why you decided to take up the role of a keeper when everyone else in your village was in fear of him. Were you brave or just a fool? He had no idea what to conclude.

But for some reason, as the days passed and he was forced to listen to all of your endless stories, Jungkook was glad for your presence. Maybe it was the fact that he would have gone crazy if he wasn't around anyone for a while. Maybe because you actually sounded like someone who wasn't scared of him, someone who was a little different from those villagers, and someone who was treating him as a normal being.

Whatever it was, he was glad for your presence that replaced the warmth of his hyung's arms.

"You ate!" You rejoiced the second you came back early one morning.

It was funny how excited and happy you were about the fact that he actually ate something. He didn't know what you looked like because he never cared to head into the light, where you were, but your voice alone was sweet, something that told him you were a pure sweet being who enjoyed the little things in life.

You reminded him of Hoseok and Taehyung in that sense, and the feeling of nostalgia came rushing over him.

He missed home.

"Do you have a family?" You asked suddenly, sitting down at the exact same spot you would always sit at. "I had a family but they've gone and now my families are the villagers. But lately, they think I've gone crazy because I still haven't run away from this place and still visit it each and every day. But I'm not crazy, trust me!" He wanted to laugh at how defensive you were despite his silence. You were cute. "It's just that whatever job I am given, I never give up even if it gives me a hard time — not that this job is giving me a hard time, I actually enjoy this believe it or not."

Why is that? Jungkook wanted to ask.

And as if reading his mind, you answered "It's lonely back in the village. You don't talk much but that's alright, it's better to have a silent presence than abandonment and someone who rambles about how stupid and crazy I am."

Had something happened? Your voice was growing somber.

"I'm so sorry." It came out into a breathless whisper, as if you were recalling a lost memory, as if you were on the verge of crying. "I'm so sorry they've kept you locked up in here," you said. "Trust me, if I was the chief villager and had the power to have others nodding at my commands, I'd tell them to set you free."

What?

"I've already done it once but was cast away and told to just continue doing my job. They're so cruel," you mumbled through a pout. "You must have a family that misses you but I can't even do anything to help you except ramble on and on about useless things which aren't helpful at all. I'm so sorry."

Why were you apologizing when none of it had been your fault? Why were you blaming yourself for the villager's actions?

"Would you rather I kept silent instead of rambling? I'm so sorry, you must be annoyed with me, right? I can-"

"Don't."

You froze, head quick to shoot up upon hearing his voice for the first time. Jungkook was surprised too. He never thought he'd ever say a word, but the deeds were done so he convinced himself whatever, he had already spoken so he might as well do some more.

"Don't stop talking," he said again, "I like your voice...Y/N."

A small smile spreads across your face, creating a beaming glow and with just hearing his voice and pretty words, and a drop of tear fell from your eyes.

"R-really?" You asked, standing up from where you sat as you held the silver bars in front of you, trying to look for him. But it was too dark to see.

A long silence passed and then, light footsteps. Footsteps of a human walking and you held your breath.

Bit by bit, little by little, you watched with a piercing gaze, waiting until he finally walked into the light. Your breath hitched at the sight of a man around your age, shirtless with scars all over him from the events of when he had gotten caught and old scars from elsewhere.

He was handsome. So incredibly handsome. With a sharp gaze and jawlines that could cut straight through the silver bars.

When Jungkook saw you, he had to blink for a moment. He wasn't too surprised by your beauty. Your voice was incredibly sweet and pretty, matching your beautiful face. But he frowned at the trail of tears that had left your eyes and his heart ached.

"Why are you crying?" He asked you by the time he got closer and stood just in front of you with the bars being the only thing that kept you apart.

Jungkook wanted to reach out but he held back, knowing that that would have been incredibly rude towards a lady.

"I'm not crying," you quickly lied and went on to wipe away the tears that had been waiting to fall away.

"You're a horrible liar."

You cringed. "Am I?" Jungkook hummed, nodding. "It's just...it's the first time someone has told me they liked my voice."

He frowned. "No one else likes your voice?"

"It kind of gets annoying," you said, a small bitter smile appearing.

His heart ached at the once bubbly voice now gone due to the insecurities those villagers have drilled into you.

"Speak as much as you'd like," he told you. "Your voice calms me down, lets me know that I'm not alone."

"Well you're not alone," you declared, suddenly acting all heroic. He smiled at the energy. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be lonely. But let's hope it isn't for long because I want you to have your freedom soon."

He knew that he'd definitely miss you if he ever got that freedom again.

"Does it hurt?" You asked him the next day and Jungkook looked up from smacking on a mango. You gestured at his neck, where the chain stood and Jungkook gave you an awkward lopsided smile.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It weighs a lot, it's a burden but I'm a tough dragon so I'll be alright."

"Oh please," you scoffed, pouting a little, "even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."

That next day, you came back with some ointment and treatments in a basket along with his meals.

"You told me it wouldn't hurt!" Jungkook hissed the moment you applied the ointment on him, stinging his wounds.

"I told you it'd sting just a little!" You argued. "Now stop moving around, it's hard enough treating your wounds with bars in our way, don't make it harder."

"But it hurts," the young dragon whined and you laughed aloud, making him pout.

"I thought you were a big and strong dragon."

"Even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."

The two of you smiled at his words, a reminder of the day before.

You came back a few minutes later with a pair of clothes you managed to steal from one of the village boys. They wouldn't notice, they had plenty of clothes to spare and you needed Jungkook to have clothes so that he could at least keep warm for the chilly nights.

"What happened to your shirt?" You asked him as he placed the shirt on top of him. He was masculine, so bulk with abs that could make you full for days. But you looked away before he could notice your stare, lightly slapping yourself in the face for such imaginations.

"I guess they must've stripped it off me when I was unconscious."

Them, as in the village soldiers. You didn't like the soldiers, they were too cocky especially after capturing Jungkook. One was even consistent on trying to steal your heart, deeming himself worthy because he was part of the party that struck upon the dragon.

"Oh, I forgot!" You suddenly recalled and was quick to jump onto your feet. "I'll bring you one of my warmest blankets so that you don't have to-"

"You're leaving?"

You blinked at the disappointed sound of his voice and kept yourself from leaving just yet.

"The night can get really chilly. I'm worried about you," you told him.

But Jungkook shook his head. "I can go on another day without a warm blanket, Dragons have thick skin. But can you stay here?" He asked, eyes a little shy with a small blush painted on his cheeks. "I don't like being lonely."

"Oh."

You smiled. No one had really appreciated or even acknowledge your presence until Jungkook came along. So you stayed, sat down again and nodded.

The days went on and on like that, some bickering and little fights here and there but for the most part, the two of you got along and a friendship was growing.

But because of that, you became the center of attention when you weren't in the dungeon visiting Jungkook. The villagers would stare and talk to and about you about all sorts of things. Some deemed that Jungkook used his "powers" to keep you in there for so long every time you'd visit. There were all sorts of rumors going around and you tried to pay no mind, continuing on your task as the keeper of the dragon.

"One day, I'll free you," you told the man.

"Don't hurt yourself just for me. The villagers will turn on you."

"Why does it matter?" You shrugged. "They don't care about me except for my role of keeping an eye on a dragon. I am your keeper, Jungkook, and as your keeper, I vow to free you one day soon."

"You're a rose, Y/N," Jungkook said, eyes filled with concern for you, "and roses shouldn't try to be a thorn."

"But roses carry thorns," you argued, eyes filled with determination. "I can be brave, trust me."

"I know you can, dear one." He sighed a sad sigh. "But I'm telling you, don't hurt yourself for me."

Jungkook knew that bit by bit, he was falling for you and for a moment, he had almost forgotten about the six dragons back at home. Almost.

But he knew that in the end, it wasn't right. He was given his own mates already, ones he knew he would betray the world for without a split second of hesitation. Yet as he stared at your sad face that became more and more apparent as the days went on, Jungkook had this desiring urge to protect you from your own insecurities and the things the villagers have said about you. He knew they must have said or done something to you for you to walk into the dungeon with a face that darkened of a cloudy sky.

The longer he sat there in the dungeon waiting every night for you to return every morning, the easier it was to pick up on your fake smiles and real laughter, the easier it was for him to fall.

Yet it was forbidden to yearn for you. Not only did he have his own mates waiting for him back at home but he knew that it would be best for you to be with a man that was your own kind. A human. And the bars that separated him from ever reaching towards you reminded him each and every day.

A few nights later, Jungkook woke up at the sound of keys rattling and his head shot up with alarm, afraid it had been some soldier.

"Jungkook!"

At the sound of your harsh whisper, his brows furrowed. "Y/N what the heck are you doing?" He asked, running over towards the bar and holding onto them tightly as he stared at you with fright.

"I told you I'd set you free one day," you simply stated and then, the door opened.

He stood there frozen for the longest time, contemplating on what to do while you rushed over to his side to unlock the chains that kept him locked in. He didn't know whether to pounce onto you with a hug or scream at you to leave. He didn't know what to do. And had the doors truly opened for him to escape out of?

The second you dragged the chain off his neck, Jungkook felt free for the first time in forever, a weight taken off of him after such a long while. Literally.

"Don't cry," you told him, wiping away the tears he hadn't realized were there. Your hands were so soft, the way you cupped his face in such a gentle way. He always imagined your touches would be as gentle and soft as your heart.

Jungkook cried because your hands reminded him of the gentle touches he's once been used to from his mates, the hyungs that have always loved and taken care of him, the hyungs who were probably worried in fear each passing day, wondering whether their maknae was still alive or not. But he didn't cry just for him, he cried for you. A pure soul, a human he never knew would care so much to the point where she was saving him by risking her own life.

"We have to go, Kook, before they find out I've stolen the keys."

You took his hand into his, rough and larger, and the two of you ran into the deepest part of the forest until you finally stopped after deeming that it was finally a safe distance from your village.

"Go home, Kook," you smiled at him but he could see the glistening tears in your eyes under the moonlight.

"What about you?" He asked, holding your face in his large hands as he wiped the tears away. He'd always wanted to do that, to hold you close to him and finally he was given that chance. No bars in between to keep you apart. "They'll know that it was you who freed me, you're the only crazy one who'd free a dragon."

"I know," you chuckled through the tears, trying to make light of things. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't." A tear slipped from his eyes. "They'll kill you, Y/N, they'll have you executed for losing a prized possession of theirs."

"I..I know." Your voice shook and you both cried a little more. "Transform now, Kook, before they find the both of us here."

He didn't want to but he knew that you were right. So lingering his fingers on you for a moment longer, not wanting to let go, he smiled at you before stepping back and then, you watched as the man in front of you transformed into the creature the villagers have come to fear and deemed the most dangerous creature in all of the lands.

When he looked back at you, eyes of a golden sun, you reached out with your hands to hold the beautiful dark scales on him, something none of the villagers would ever dare to do. But you weren't any of the villagers, you were Y/N, and Jungkook knew that Y/N was far braver and sweeter than any of those villagers.

Those eyes were still the same ones Jungkook always held despite his true dragon form and you smiled at the beautiful sight in front of you.

A loud uproar was quick to having you flinching and Jungkook looked towards the sound.

"They've found us," you gasped, turning your head back at him with alarm. "You have to leave now."

He hesitated but you were so insistent on him leaving. "Go, Jungkook. Don't let my freeing you go to waste or we'll both get executed."

"I won't let them hurt you," he vowed, "I won't let them lay a hand on you."

"Kook-"

"You saved my life, Y/N," he cut you off, "it's my turn to save yours."

You looked at him in confusion, wondering what that meant.

"Climb on my back, Y/N, ride the wind with me."

"What? Jungk-"

"Come to my village with me," he said, voice a little more desperate. "Come to my clan."

"Your clan?"

The shouting was nearing louder and louder.

"Come with me."

He lent you his back, large wings flared out and silently asking you to climb onto it so that you could reach his back.

You took a moment to look back at the loud voices that came closer and closer and then back at the eyes that had been home to you more than the village had ever been. And then, without another moment of hesitation, you climbed onto Jungkook's back and his wings flapped a few times to get themselves ready to take flight.

Yet at that moment, a bow came flying by and you were hit right near the chest, near your heart, making your body fall back and off Jungkook's back, onto the hard ground with a harsh thud.

Freedom so close yet so far away.

Jungkook growled at the soldiers that stood a few yards away, his eyes growing red at the sight of you weak and vulnerable.

His voice raged into the night sky, a cry so loud and booming that it could be heard from far, far away. He flung his tail at them, causing the soldiers to fly a few yards back.

He turned to you, whimpers leaving your lips and held you under his claws safely and securely, and then, Jungkook flew off into the night sky, riding the wind with you in hand.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

NURSE

Sam Bridges x reader

Warning: SMUT, fxm, few curse words, synonyms for penis (hehe)

Fair warning I wrote this while I'm on my period (still am, sorryTMI) so you know I'm a horny mess. Sorry about it.

Anon asked:Hello there! A bit strange, but I just want to give it a try! I was listening to Weeknd - After hours, and strangely it somehow really fits to Sam Bridges struggles/life in game etc.(minus the romantic interst). May I request a music imagine/smut with this song, if it is a thing for you? Please tell me what you think! Thank you for everything that you do��🖤🖤

Hey, anon, I used the lyrics but I didn't go step by step with the lyrics I used the one that suited the paragraph best. I hope that is okay.

✨I recommend you listen to Weeknd's song After Hours as you read it for an experience.✨

I also have a similar lyric fic with Mako's song Breathe paired with Duncan Vizla (Polar) so if you want you can give it a read

-Where is she?

Thought I almost died in my dream again

Fightin' for my life, I couldn't breathe again

-Mama, where is she for fucks sakes?!!!

-Her com has been turned off 20 minutes ago.

-What was recorded?

-Just some static and...

-And fucking what?

-... A gunshot...

Sam feels his legs give in as he kneels dangerously on the floor thinking of every worst possible in the book. His arms thinking rationality as they pull Mama down with him on the harsh floor

-Give me the location of-of... The gunshot. I will find her.

Mama wanted to pull him up and lock him in the room knowing that the place where Y/n was last heard no one could easily survive that. His head gawked up and she saw how his ombre pupils cracked in half fearing that he lost his hope of survival in this crazy sphere.

I'm fallin' in too deep

Without you, don't wanna sleep

'Cause my heart belongs to you

-Please...

With a heavy sigh, she responded with

-Port Knot City.

He knew that Y/n was alive. His psyche told him of every possible scenario that could happen as his soul pulled him up and hurled him on the motorbike as he speeds onto the rocky routines. The wheels speed over the hills hitting his legs and balls that will surely punish him later on. The sky started to change into the ominous charcoal sky as he saw the empty streets his eyes catching wandering BTs as their wails echoed through the deserted buildings. Looking down onto his arm he sees on the small screen where was Y/n's last seen signal boost. Looking at the spot a glimmer of silver he rushes to it picking it as he remembers he bought them for her knowing that you had a fascination with his own as they always his toned chest.

Dog tags.

Y/n L/n

I just wanted to call you and say, and say

-What's your problem with my dog tags?

-No problem. Maybe a kink.

-Well, you are in luck little lady. I have something for you.

Oh, baby, where are you now when I need you most?

Clutching the tags in his hand he looked above and beyond feeling his soul battling every negative thought. Sam rears his head up feeling a rumble close by. Turning over his shoulder he sees the lion-shaped BTs walking past him in a slow stride as if on a leash walking a designated path. Throwing his luck in the air he drives to near it following in adequate silence. The beast stepped one last time as he halted in front of a heap of bouldering tar, as the bubbles around it fall showing a victim changed into it gasping for air as if never inhale the rotten air. A caped person declines from the sky down standing in front of the victim Sam only hearing their voices.

-Where is the package?

-In your ass, asshole.

Sam's eyes brightened as he heard the insult finding the silver lining. His girl. His badass girl.

I'd give it all just to hold you close.

The kidnapper removed his cap and Sam immediately knowing who it was... Higgs. Fucker Higgs. Sam waited for a opportunity as Higgs walked away as Sam started revving his bike with only one goal-saving his girl and getting her back. Letting go of the break the motorbike roared like a beast as he drove under the lion-like BT as Sam's left hand reached for his girl as he started to the right as he grabbed her by the waist as she held onto him for dear life leaving Higgs to take a second what just happened.

-Bridges!!!!!

Higgs yelled as he jumped on the beast tailing the two lovers. Sam felt the weak arm around his waist bare and cold but thankfully alive and conscious.

-Princess. Are you okay? Just hold on.

Y/n felt the warmth from his body as he drove away as her eyes found Higgs starting to lose speed and distance eventually giving up.

-This is not the end! I will get that package!

I know it's all my fault

Made you put down your guard

I know I made you fall

The engine roared down into silence as Sam grabbed this love into his arms carrying her into the HQ to get her healed. Her body stiff and bleak nearly like a washed corpse as Mama examined her.

-Her lungs are at its limit, a wonder she is alive.

-What do you mean?

-Her lungs were excessively deprived of air. Wonder how she managed that.

Sam chuckled down at his girl mumbling proudly

-Easy. She's too stubborn to die.

Didn't wanna wake up 'less you were beside me

Cause this house is not a home

Days passed and Y/n came back to life as Sam held her like a drop of water in his palm. Not letting her to grab or carry anything god forbid walk to the bathroom to pee. As much as she came back to life her hormones came as well to say hello. She became sexually frustrated but knowing Sam he will say

"You need to heal."

But she is stubborn and she will get what she wants. Grabbing a neat pager she presses the red button on it that Sam gave to her to call her when she needs help using it only this once. She remembered him saying.

-Press this button and I will do anything to help you.

As she pressed the button the doors slammed open as Sam asked out of breath

-What? What's wrong? What do you need?

Y/n put on a smile on her face as she patted the space near her.

-Sit down.

Seeing her in good shape he sat down as he said

-You seem fine.

Y/n shook her head to negate his words

-Oh, I'm most certainly not. I'm in pain.

-Where?

Y/n extends her legs over his lap sitting on him facing his face as she putting his hands on her waist.

-Sexually.

-Oh.

-You are wounded and you ca-

Y/n placed a finger on his lips to hush him as she replies proudly

-You said that when I press the button on the anger you will ANYTHING to help me. Right?

Sam shook his head up and down as her fingers stayed put.

-Then help me. I want to feel you. You surely want to feel me. Right???

He shook his head again as his hands dive under her shirt.

I want you next to me

This time, I'll never leave

-Help me, Bridges. Make me feel at ease.

She commanded and he obeyed as her hand flew to his har as their lips connected in the touch starved manner that clashed together. Tongue peaking out, saliva dribbling down their chins.

Cause I want you baby

It was definitely a blessing, wakin' beside you

Sam felt his cock aching against her clothes core pulsating to feel the warmth he craved at this moment

I'll be livin' in Heaven when I'm inside of you

-No foreplay today. I need you, Sam.

He needed nothing more as her hand removed the pants and underwear as her slick dropped her juices over his cock. The juice sliding down his erection as the puddle nestled itself on the bottom of his groin into his dark pubic hair. Her body melted at his soft touch as she slides down his shaft eating him up feeling her walls provide the tight passage for him. Sam let his head fall seeing his friend disappear in her warmness not wanting to get out like ever. His hips snapped back and slammed her onto him feeling the zing of pain and the heap of pleasure.

-More, Sam. Please me.

Sam obliged for his best girl as his hips found her center again and again and again and again as his climax reared close his veins waiting for the delicious moment of persecuting to course his veins one last epic time. Y/n felt her hips snap in place Sam's cock still in her as she felt the warm cum release around him. Sam's cock felt the warm ooze and he came as well in her womb mixing the two together. Her lungs gasped for air and her hips cursed at her for the position but nothing felt better than this. Sam watches her chest fill with air as his thighs gave her the hard cushion support she needed for now. His gleaming eyes found hers as he asked

-Feeling better now?

I'll hold you down and not let you go

I'd give it all just to hold you close

Y/n smiled as she answered

-No more pain.

Her lips found his once again thanking him for being the best nurse.

I hope you enjoyed it🌺

[mintvender]

UTOPIA [ 3 ]

Pairing: BTS x Y/N

Synopsis: Y/N L/N, the name of the current monarch of Corea. They became the ruler after successfully ending the previous king along with the dynasty as well. In their harem, countless men are present to help balance the court’s power. However, is this truly their intentions? The palace was always a place that needs to be proceeded with caution but as time goes by, recklessness would most likely outweigh it. You found yourself unable to prosper the kingdom without being too connected to it.

HaremAu!

Warning: None

Word Count: 4.1k

A/n: Finally finished part three of Utopia. Feedback are always welcome. Anyways, enjoy 🌿.

Masterlist

Focusing at the familiar sensation you were feeling on your back, you couldn’t help but let out a low groan. Satisfied with the pressure that is currently being applied, you obediently lay on the bed and let the magic occur. Combined that with the calming scent of lavender with a hint of rosemary, you couldn’t decipher whether or not if this was truly reality.

Continuing to let yourself sink into the mattress, you couldn’t help but be annoyed at the stare that you were getting.

“ A little harder on my shoulder blades?”

Feeling a heavier pressure applied to your tense shoulders, you could only sigh and not enjoy the entire experience because of a particular someone.

Despite you wanting to ignore it, luck was apparently not favouring you today. Well, you should have known that ignoring was never an option.

Hissing at a particular hard jab, you felt the pressure being lifted along with a line of apology. Little shuffles were then heard, until the person was standing a good distance away from you.

“ I… apologize?”

Scrunching your eyebrows at his tone, you were confused why he was using it. Turning your head around to meet his gaze, you offered him a curious look.

“ Do you need anything, Namjoon?”

At the mention of his name, Namjoon uncomfortably directs his gaze anywhere but you, obviously trying to avoid your questioning.

“ You seem weird today,” you commented, “ Do you perhaps have a fever?”

Quickly scanning his body, you tried to find out where the problem lies. Reaching your arm up to position it against his forehead, you tested his body temperature.

Seems normal.

While you were busy trying to come up with a potential reason, Namjoon could feel himself flushed in surprise. Stunned at what you were doing, he couldn’t help but stared at you, wide eyed.

Noticing how shocked he seemed, you removed your hand away, and chuckled.

Raising your left eyebrow, you teased, “ Why are you so stunned?”

Flinching at getting caught, Namjoon’s face continued to burn a crimson color.

“ I-I…”

Seeing how you manage to make the overly wise Namjoon speechless, you decided that it would be better to save your teasing for another day. After all, there are more important things to talk about as of now.

“ I trust that you will be more than capable of taking care of yourself,” turning around, you relax against the soft material, “ If you don’t, I don’t think that you have the ability to be by my side.”

Namjoon, a person who has been with you for years, is also a master in his own rights. Unlike Taehyung, Namjoon is well versed in the realm of medicine. Having memorized countless documents from ancient manuscripts to the most recent, Namjoon could be considered as a living medical dictionary.

With how long you have known each other, you know more than anyone how powerful Namjoon can become if he would put some effort in building his public relations. However, no one could ever be that perfect, every person has at least a flaw of their own.

“ … yes, your majesty.”

There it is again.

“ You don’t have to be so formal, Namjoon,” you reminded him, “ We, basically, have known each other for most of our lives.”

Not only has he learned many valuable information from the countless documents he had read, it had also somewhat affected his ability to be casual with others. Normally, it would only happen when he is with friends and whatnot, but never with you nor Taehyung. However, Namjoon seemed to become much more closed off the moment you guys took up your positions within the palace.

Maybe it was the difference in rank, but knowing Namjoon, he wouldn’t have cared so what’s the actual reason?

“ But, yo—“

You interrupted, “ No, I know what you are going to say… I don’t care if I am your current superior.”

Pushing yourself to your knees, you drowsily sit on the bed, still feeling the impact from earlier.

Sighing, you continued, “ Namjoon… before becoming the monarch, you were my friend first. You should know this better than anyone else, Namjoon… that our roots are intertwined.”

Hesitantly nodding at your word, Namjoon seemed to be more conflicted than before. You, this time however, waited for him to sort those feelings out himself.

The moment he called your name, you nodded and moved on, careful to not make him too uncomfortable.

Rubbing your back, you asked, “ My back is fine, right?”

“ Your back is fine. The soreness you are feeling is your body’s reaction to such an abrupt impact.”

Nodding at the reasonable answer, you reach your right hand over to your left shoulder and massage them, attempting to relieve your shoulders from its tense state.

“ Hwan is really big nowadays, she must’ve thought that she is still a puppy,” you said, finding how cute she is.

However, thinking back to earlier, your body couldn’t help but shudder at the feeling.

Groaning at the heavy weight on top of yourself, you tried to push them off but to no avail. Somewhat having an idea who this could be, you definitely have to handle it with care. If not, someone was going to be extremely mad at you.

Suddenly, you felt a chilling sensation on your left cheek, feeling a shiver wrack your body. Instinctively you brought your hand up to your cheek and wiped the substance off your skin. Wrinkling your face at the substance, you helplessly ruffled the big ball of fluff that was currently nibbling at your neck.

Purring at the feeling, it digs its head to the crevice of your neck and cuddles into you.

Normally, you would have also cuddled into the pile of fur if you were in a more private setting. However, with Taehyung screaming at someone, that scenario seemed far too out of reach, especially with you being stuck under a portable comforter.

Unable to contain your exhaustion, you let out a sigh, wondering why no one was helping you.

Am I really that cuddly? Why does everyone have to hug me today?

You flapped your arms around, silently gesturing for help which was thankfully answered by General Kim’s assistance. Lifting up the large body off you, he also assisted you on your way back to your feet.

Feeling painful pricks continuously nib at your feet, you waited for some moments to get blood to travel back to your asleep lower body.

Patting your attire to get rid of any dirty particles, you looked over to the pile of fur that was now hiding behind a certain person. You would have deceived yourself for its pitiful form if you didn’t see its excited eyes, piercing at you.

Looking up, you met the new arrival’s eyes who was awkwardly rubbing his neck, silently apologizing for his dog’s actions.

“ You should have put her on a leash!”

Taehyung, who had seemed to fully restore all his energy, was full on ranting at the person situated opposite of you, who was now pouting because of the lecture. He then looked over to you, silently sending another apology in the stead of his dog.

“ You don’t have to go that far, Tae,” you reassured him, “ Besides, Hwan didn’t hurt me. I was just taken by surprise by the abrupt greeting.”

Clapping your hands, you looked over to Hwan and signaled her to come over. While waiting for her to enter your arms, you shot Tae a soothing look, hoping to ease him up. As expected, Taehyung could only helplessly sigh and stop his ranting.

Watching your interaction with Hwan, Taehyung couldn’t help but pout. However, that was dismissed by all of you.

After having your share of exercising with Hwan, you look up and smile at the male who was proudly admiring you and Hwan the entirety of your little playtime.

Picking yourself up from your kneeled position, you walked over to the group with Hwan happily following your steps.

“ How have you been, Hoseok?” You greeted.

Smiling in return, Hoseok replied, “ I have been doing well, you’re majesty.”

Happy that he was doing alright, you threw a stick in the opposite direction, waiting for Hwan to go and retrieve it.

“ That’s good to hear. After all the mishaps within the palace, at least someone is doing well.”

“ I’m hoping that I’m not the only one,” Hoseok chuckled at your response, “ How have you been doing, your majesty?”

“ I—“

“ You definitely aren’t the only one doing well.” Taehyung interrupted, “Besides, I am sure that Y/N is doing quite well.”

Not knowing what to do, you could only shut your mouth, and tried your best to give a natural smile.

Immediately after, the atmosphere became a little too awkward for your liking.

Shooting Taehyung a glare, you silently warned him of his actions. However, not only did Taehyung not look apologetic, he even did a little ‘hmph’ to prove his point.

Lucky for you, with Hwan rushing back to the group, placing the stick in front of you, dispersing the tense atmosphere was much more achievable.

“ I’m doing fine, Hoseok,” directing your gaze to meet Hwan’s, “ Hwan is getting so big.”

As if waiting for the particular comment, Hoseok happily nodded, reaching his hand over to pet Hwan.

“ She indeed is,” Hoseok smiled, “ Though, she seemed to be a little puppy yesterday to me.”

Noticing how fond Hoseok is towards Hwan, you silently coo at how closed they were. However, that was cut short once again by the one and only Royal Consort.

“ That dog’s too big, it might even endanger your majesty’s life with its weight,” Taehyung interjected, “ Yeontan is much better.”

Normally, you would have dismissed the comparison if it was between the two of you. However, with Hoseok being here, you cannot just let him act whatever way he wants to. You knew that Taehyung did not fully intend to insult Hwan, but it was enough to offend Hoseok.

Even after your initial warning, he still decided to disobey your words.

Looks like I spoiled him too much.

Instead of repeating your previous reaction, you decided to ignore the male next to you and instead focus on who's opposite of you.

Seeing how awkward things have been, General Kim decided to intervene in an attempt to lift the tension.

“ May this servant ask the Noble Consort the reason for you being here?”

Previously nervously glancing at the bush nearby, Hoseok perked up at his title and smiled in return.

“ Originally, I did not plan to go out today,” Hoseok explained, “ However, this little rascal hasn't quiet down since last night. As a result, I figured to get some exercise while at it.”

Nodding at his response, an idea suddenly came, whooshing into General Kim’s mind.

“ If you do not mind my suggestion, your majesty,” General Kim looked over to you, “ Since the Royal Consort is training his physical body, if we were to have another person join, he would have a partner to practice with.”

Curious at what he was hinting, you urged him to elaborate.

“ To be more specific, I think that the Noble Consort would be the perfect candidate.”

Looking between the two, you contemplated at the suggestion.

Hoseok was quite agile by just how he carried himself. His moves also seemed quite sharp but with him wearing a hanbok, you can’t really figure out if it was true or not.

While you were busy thinking about the possibility, the mentioned couple were glancing at each other, too shocked to say anything. However, before Taehyung could even think about denying it, you beat him to his own game by fiercely glaring at him. Making direct eye contact with you, Taehyung couldn’t help but cowered slightly, unable to utter a witty comment. Looks like your little tiger has lost once again.

Smiling in triumph, you couldn’t help but puff your shoulders slightly, proud of winning your guys’ little game.

“ Hoseok, what do you think?,” you asked, “ Would you mind being Taehyung’s partner?”

Looking at Hoseok, you can immediately sense his nervousness and hesitation at your offer.

If you were being truthful, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Hoseok accompany Taehyung. However, you weren’t a pushover, you wouldn’t force Hoseok to so something he doesn’t want to. Though, you still hope he accepts your offer.

“... I would be more than happy to do so,” Hoseok said, “ However, would the Royal Consort not mind my presence?”

“ Of co—“

Before Taehyung could reject the idea, you interrupted, “ No, Taehyung definitely would not mine. Am I correct, Taehyung?”

Shivering at your tone, Taehyung immediately nodded.

Satisfied with his response, you happily entrust Taehyung’s training to General Kim and Hoseok.

“ Then I’ll entrust Taehyung to the both of you,” you said.

“ Of course, your majesty.”

“ … Yes, your majesty.”

At the tone of Hoseok’s tone, you were reminded of a certain etiquette used specifically within the palace.

Pretending to be oblivious to his tone, you looked at him, confused.

“ Do… you perhaps need anything, Hoseok?”

Hoseok, realizing that he got caught red-headed, could only sheepishly nod his head.

As expected, you had to fulfill a request of his for the time he would spend with Taehyung.

Although the palace could sometimes be considered to be quite mysterious, whenever it comes to favour, there is no grey space, only black and white. If you have asked a person for a favour, expect that person to do exactly the same to you when they need it. That’s the basic rules that all need to understand when entering the palace.

If not, it’s easier to die than to live within the palace walls.

Knowing this, you had to grant Hoseok one of his requests. Though, until now, you could tell that he is not a malicious person, but it’s better to be extra cautious now that you are always the center of attention.

“ Tell me.”

Not meeting your gaze, your mind immediately branches out to various possibilities.

Maybe he wants me to get him something? Or maybe to grant Minister Jung an audience with me… Maybe he … wants a divorce.

Somehow, your heart unexpectedly tightens at the thought of Hoseok leaving. With just a few months of knowing him, you have grown quite fond of his bright personality. However, your expression still remains composed as you wait for Hoseok’s reply.

“ I would like to go outside.”

“ Hmm?”

Surprised, no shocked at his utterly humble request, you couldn’t help but let out a confused expression. You understand that this man is not like others but how is he so innocent to ask for such a thing?

Seeing your unresponsive state, Hoseok couldn’t help but be uncertain at his request, thinking that it might be too much. As a consort who serves the monarch, he technically can’t have any public relations outside of the palace so he understood that his request was quite absurd. However, he had seen the Royal Consort leave the palace a few times so he figured that it would be alright, but does have to ask for your permission first.

“ You want to go outside?”

Directing his gaze to the voice’s direction, he nodded, confirming Taehyung’s question.

“ Hoseok… you do know that you could go out whenever you want right?” You asked, “ Or was there any misunderstanding that I have yet to catch on to?”

Immediately shaking his head in response to your question, “ No, you did say that but I figured that it was only … out of politeness... I’m sorry.”

You gently waved your hand, dismissing his apologies, “ No it’s fine. If you want to go outside, then go ahead. I don’t restrict people from those types of things.”

Hoseok happily yet hesitantly nodded and thanked you. Somehow, the way you had phrased that particular sentence sounded quite off to him. However, Hoseok ignored it and thanked you for your kindness.

Nodding at his response, it seemed like the perfect time to end the conversation. And with that you went back to caressing Hwan’s soft fur.

Unfortunately, that memory was cut shorter and more abruptly than you would have liked to admit.

“ Y/N? Are you listening to me?”

Flinching at the mention of your name, you were snapped back to reality with Namjoon yelling your name.

“ I apologized. What were you saying?”

Knowing how your mind tends to drift away whenever you just experienced a dramatic scene, all Namjoon could do was helplessly sigh and restart.

“ It’s alright,” he said, turning back to what he was doing, “ This is a combination of lavender and chamomile which would help relax your nervous and digestive system.”

After he had finished combining the two scents, Namjoon makes his way to the chair nearby, settling down on it. Picking up the book on the little table nearby, he gently flipped through the pages to where he previously was.

On the other hand, you have once again lie down on the mattress, your muscles silently aching at every movement you do. Ignoring the pained feeling, you take a moment to inhale the air within the room, noticing how the fragrance was indeed different from the previous one and slowly relaxes your body.

“ You know what Hoseok asked me today in return for being Taehyung’s partner?”

“ The Noble Consort?” Namjoon questioned.

“ Mhm… he asked me to allow him to go outside.”

In response to your comment, Namjoon hummed in interest while still focused on the content of the book.

“ Hoseok, that child, sometimes reminds me of Taehyung,” you said, “ Although they have similar personalities, each of them still shine in their own way. While Taehyung is bubbly and cheeky, Hoseok is … quite innocent when you get close to him.”

“ Innocent and a child? The Noble Consort is only a year younger than you,” Namjoon replied, “ More than that, he is turning twenty-three this year.”

Rolling your eyes at his sarcastic response, you continued to breathe in the calming scent, continuing to feel your body relaxing.

Now that he mentioned that, most of the people that are within your inner circle are quite similar to you in age, with the exception of a few. Maybe it’s because all of you are so young that you guys have bonded through your high ambitions. However, even if they were to be in your age group, they still have to have similar roots as you.

So how did these people manage to befriend me when it has only been 3 months?

Deciding to dismiss the question and postpone to another day, you answered, “ I understand that Hoseok is the same age as you and is an adult. However, the way he carries himself just reminds me of a curious child, especially whenever we talk in depth about a particular subject.”

No, more like a curious child who has been deprived of the most basic education about the way of life.

Somehow, Namjoon found himself nodding in agreement with your observation.

“ Also, with how often he smiles, and so brightly even, just proves the point of how much innocence he has,” you added.

Sometimes, you envy how positive Hoseok is in any situation. Just having a genuine smile in a tense situation can brighten the entire room up. However, not many can be as positive as that.

“ He might seem innocent to you but why would a noble, who has spent his entire existence bathing in riches would suddenly go out to the dirty streets?”

Thinking about what Namjoon just said, it really truly doesn’t make sense. Hoseok, who can have all the things he wants in the world yet still remains to be so innocent and humble. How unbelievable it sounds.

Is this really the real him?

“ I’ll send someone to investigate him further,” you said, sitting up, “ They found almost nothing suspicious about him during the first round of inspection. Maybe, he is hiding something much deeper…”

“... or is working as a spy for Minister Jung within the harem.”

You nodded, expression sharpened at the possible thought. It was a possibility that you have already thought of but ultimately dismissed it after the initial investigation. However, it seems like you should be diving deeper, much deeper. In any case, preventing the worst possible outcome should always be the top priority.

Though, I hope that my intuition is right about you, Hoseok.

“ Be careful, Y/n.” Namjoon warned, “ You never know what or who is involved.”

Silently thanking him, you make your way out of the comfort of your bed and begin walking towards Namjoon.

“ Jungkook.”

At the mention of his name, Jungkook quickly opened the door and entered.

“ Yes, your majesty.”

“ Go and invite Taehyung to come over,” you ordered, “ Quickly.”

Immediately after, Jungkook then greeted you and ran out the door, feeling the need to hurry and bring the Royal Consort back with how urgent you seem.

Knowing this was not the time to question your words, Jungkook focused fully on bringing back the Royal Consort as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, you settled on the seat positioned around the center table, waiting for Taehyung.

After what seemed like quarter of an hour, your chamber doors finally opened.

Normally, you would have waited for Taehyung to even out his breath, but with the possibility of a rat within the harem, there was no time for that.

People might say that you are being too abrupt but with personal experience, how could you repeat the same mistake?

Waving your hand to dismiss Jungkook, “ You can leave, Jungkook. We’ll be fine.”

Nodding at your words, Jungkook then exited the room, knowing to leave your courtyard fully.

You gestured for Taehyung to settle on your right side while Namjoon took the seat left of you.

“ Taehyung, I apologized for suddenly calling y—”

Feeling a light gust of wind entering the closed space, you stopped yourself from saying anything further, “ Looks like we have another guest.”

Quickly standing up from your spot, you quietly make your way towards the shelve on the left side of the room, and grab your sword, that was proudly displayed on the main compartment.

Blazefury, a bonguk geom made especially for you by one of the most skilled blacksmith in the nation, maybe even wider than that.

The single-edge sword was quite long, making it much easier to injure the enemy at a greater distance. Like any other sword, the blade itself is quite sharp. With how much time you put into taking care of your sword, the blade still reflects whatever is put in front of it. The handle of the sword is a deep red, while a scarlet tassel is attached at the hilt, contrasting with the silver metal of the blade.

To say the absolute least, you couldn’t be any more honoured to have this sword within your possession. After all, the sword is a masterpiece on its own, even without having to say who brought this sword to life.

Unsheathing the sword from its leather scabbard, you pointed it towards the window opposite of you.

Smilingly, you slowly close the space between you and whoever was behind the thin windows.

Though, you do find it weird that the person is not moving even after finding out that they have been caught.

How could they be so careless to hide behind a window composed of mostly paper? To spy on me? No, there are other ways. Maybe they just want to finish me?

When you are finally in front of the window, placing your left hand against the window, feeling the rough paper on your fingertips. Gently tracing the outline of the frames, you wickedly lengthen the moment much to other’s displeasure.

To you, however, it truly doesn’t matter if you were to open the window now or later. After all, even if they want to escape, it would be too late to even move a meter.

The only thing that would make you hesitate is if the person would call for backup. You would be able to handle them all, but with Taehyung and Namjoon here, both yet to master any type of martial arts except for the most basic defence exercises. Looks like you have to prepare for the absolute worst.

Finally gathering force to your left hand, you forcefully open the window, purposely creating a large bang.

However, before you could even register what was about to come, the person in front of you dropped their weapon, silently surrendering.

While you on the other hand felt your smile getting wider, eyes sparkling in interest.

“ What are you doing here, Panther?”

Definition:

Bonguk geom - a type of sword or sword skill. It is said that the phrase ‘bonguk geom’ originated from the Hwarang of the Silla dynasty. As a result, it could even be called as Silla Sword or Singeom. Bonguk geom literally means ‘national sword.’ The appearance of it is quite similar to a katana ( I believe it is the sword used in Yoongi’s track, Daechwita but please correct me if I am wrong).

Copyright © 2021 MintVender

All rights reserved.

[blu-joons]

When Their Grandmother Really Likes You ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

He could feel his grandmother’s eyes stare across at him as soon as he walked into her home without you stood by his side. “Where’s Y/N?” She asked as soon as Jin was beside her, refusing to accept his hug.

Jin sighed across at her, “she had work commitments that she couldn’t get out of so it’s just me here today to see you.”

“That’s a shame,” she whispered, finally allowing him to hug her. “I really like her Jin, you’ve found a really great girl in her, far better than I ever thought that you would find for yourself.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He chuckled.

Her head nodded, pressing her cold hand to his cheek. “I’m proud that you’ve found yourself such a nice girl, and I’m glad that she makes you happy.”

“You know,” he laughed, “sometimes I think you’re starting to prefer Y/N to me, I am your grandson don’t forget, she’s your grandson’s girlfriend.”

“I know,” she assured him, “but that doesn’t stop me loving her like I love you.”

“I’m glad you really like her.”

Yoongi:

His smile was wide as soon as he walked into the apartment, straight away you could tell that something was going on by the look in his eyes. “What?” You laughed, following him as he sat himself down beside you.

He turned to face you, “my grandma has invited us round for dinner again, it’s the third time this week, she’s obsessed with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you assured him, noticing the frown on his face. “I don’t mind going to see her Yoongi, she probably loves the company, and I’m glad that she likes me.”

“I just don’t want it to become too much for you,” he admitted.

Your hand rested over his gently, “it’s not too much for me, and it saves me having to eat your food for the night, so I guess I can’t really complain.”

“I learnt from the best,” he mused, squeezing your hand against his. “I’ll let her know that we’ll head round tonight, as long as it’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” you reiterated, “but we’ll need to go to the shops and get a gift.”

“I’ve already got something she’ll love, you.”

Hoseok:

The smell of something cooking caught your attention as soon as you walked down the stairs, glancing around you saw Hobi stood over the hob. “There you are,” he smiled, beckoning you over to see what was going on.

You glanced into the pan and noticed him making caramel. “What’s all this in aid of?” You quizzed, noticing a piece of paper with a recipe.

“In twenty-seven years, I’ve never been given this,” he said, pointing to the piece of paper. “Grandma sent me the recipe for her biscuits because you liked them so much when we visited her.”

“Those biscuits were like heaven, how did she do it?” You laughed.

His shoulders shrugged, turning back to his caramel. “It’s always been a secret, but for some reason she decided to share the recipe thanks to you.”

“She must really like me,” you proudly teased, “I hope you do as good a job as she does, you’ve got a lot to live up to with how good hers were.”

“I’m feeling the pressure,” he laughed, “I just don’t want to mess it all up.”

“They smell delicious, don’t worry Hobi.”

Namjoon:

You glanced across at Namjoon as you turned back from his grandmother, noticing the blank expression that was on his face. “What’s wrong?” You whispered across to him, intertwining your hand in with his tightly.

He sighed lightly, “I’ve not spoken to her all day, it’s like you’re the only one of the two of us in the room right now.”

“It’s our first-time meeting,” you reminded him, “she’s bound to talk to me a lot, and want to get to know me. Are you not pleased that the two of us are getting along so well together?”

“I am, I guess I’m just not used to being her favourite,” he admitted.

Your head rested down against his shoulder, “I bet after today you’ll go back to being the favourite too, it’s just a novelty that I’m here today.”

“You better not become her favourite,” he teased, mumbling into your ear, “I’ve always been her favourite and that can’t change now.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, “I’m not going to replace you or anything like that.”

“Good, because I’m her number one.”

Jimin:

When his aunt called out for a family photo to be taken, you instinctively stood back and offered to be the one to take the photo. “No way,” you heard his grandmother call out, “Y/N, your part of the family, come here.”

Your body froze as you looked between her and Jimin, “I’m not really just yet, I’m happy just to be behind the camera.”

“Come and stand between me and Jimin,” she instructed, clearing a space between the two of them. “As my grandson’s girlfriend, you are most definitely a part of my family.”

“Okay, I’ll come,” you chuckled, walking around to fill the spot.

As soon as you got there, Jimin’s arm wrapped around you. “She’s stubborn, there was no way she wasn’t going to let you be a part of this photo.”

“I didn’t know if I was welcome just yet,” you whispered back to him, “it’s not like we’re married or anything just yet really.”

“You’re very welcome here, everyone loves having you around,” he smiled.

“Your grandma especially does.”

Taehyung:

The annual get together for his family was always a huge deal, but as Taehyung showed up alone, his grandmother was the first person to approach you. “Where is she?” She asked, as Taehyung knew exactly who she meant.

He smiled down at her, “she’s a bit busy today so she couldn’t make it, but Y/N wanted to make sure I said hello on her behalf.”

“I was really looking forward to seeing her,” she sighed, pouting up at her grandson. “It’s been a while since I had the chance to see her, is she doing alright? Are you looking after her?”

“Of course, she’s just been a bit stressed at work recently,” he informed her.

Instantly, her eyes widened in panic. “I hope she’s not working too hard; she has nothing to really worry about at her age, she should be happy.”

“She is,” Taehyung assured her, “I’m sure she’d want you to know that she’s taking the best possible care of herself too grandma.”

“Maybe I can come and visit her one day and check in on her,” she suggested.

“If it’s what you want, of course, you can.”

Jungkook:

From the moment you met his grandmother, she took an immense liking to you, which was something Jungkook sometimes struggled to deal with. “Is he taking good care of you?” Was always the first question she asked you.

Your head nodded, glancing across at Jungkook. “He takes the best care of me; he must have learnt really well from you.”

“I raised him right,” she smiled proudly, ruffling the top of Jungkook’s hair. “I always told him that the one thing I wanted was for him to find a good girl, and he most definitely has with you.”

“I just hope that I live up to your expectations,” you replied.

Her smile grew once again, “you’ve exceeded all of my expectations, Jungkook is a very lucky guy to have you in his life Y/N.”

“I’m definitely the lucky one,” you argued, but she quickly shut you down. “He looks after me, perfectly, just how you would want him to.”

“I hope he doesn’t mess things up with you Y/N,” she teased, smirking at Jungkook.

“I don’t think he will.”

---

Masterlist

[daydream-hobii]

Hybrid Heart Attack | Chapter 17

Genre: Poly!AU; Hybrid!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: BTS x Female!Reader; Human!Seokjin x Human!Reader; Eventual relationship with Snow Leopard!Yoongi, Red Panda!Hoseok, Koala!Namjoon, Calico Cat!Jimin, Husky!Taehyung, Doberman!Jungkook

Summary: Y/n finds her current fiance during college, his name is Seokjin. They fell in love and dated for three years before he proposed. Now, Seokjin is a lawyer for hybrids, and Y/n, well, she has the perfect stay at home job. When Seokjin invites her to move in, she wasn’t expecting that he has six hybrids. She doesn’t know why a hybrid lawyer wouldn’t have hybrids, she just didn’t think about it…. Y/n is petrified of hybrids, something happened to her when she was little…. Guess she’ll have to adapt… or leave.

Warning: Mentions of Animal Attacks, Abuse (Physical & Mental), Depression, Anxiety; Possible PTSD mentions; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution. <3

Word Count: 1,131

// Previous // Next //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 17! We’re back to the reader’s POV! I hope you all enjoy it!! ^_^

         Beeping. Steady, but loud. Pain, sharp and everywhere. I was awake, but I didn’t know where I was. Something was in my hand, another hand, and it was holding mine weakly. I opened my eyes, looking around the darkened room.

        It was small, machines to my left and right. A television hung up in the top right corner, and in front of me were curtains that were closed to block outside the room. I was in a hospital. When I looked at the owner of the hand, it was Seokjin, and he was asleep. The time beside him read six in the morning, making me squint my eyes. 

        I tried to sit up, but pain ran through my body far worse than when I wasn’t moving. I moved the blanket, staring at my stomach. I had bandages wrapped around my torso, and whatever was still viewable had black and blue bruises. I moved my blanket further to look at my legs. They, too, had bandages on some spots, and bruises on all of the viewable areas. My arms matched, and I realized I had a bandage wrapped around my neck. I gulped, wincing at the memories of the previous night.

        “Oh my god, Y/n,” Seokjin said, making me turn to look at him. Hurt and anger still filled my soul when I looked at him, but I knew I needed him at this moment. I couldn’t do this alone. “Are you alright? What happened?”

        “I… I went for a walk, and I got jumped by some hybrids,” I said, tearing up. “Jin, it was just like when I was little….” My voice was raw, tears streaming down my cheeks.

        “Y/n…” Seokjin mumbled, hugging me. “I am so sorry….”

        “Jin, why are you here?” I asked, pulling away.

        “You were right… about Sooyoung…. Baby, I am so sorry that I neglected you and said the things I said…. I should’ve never done that to you, and I’m so sorry,” Seokjin choked out, a couple tears falling. “God, this is all my fault…. If I would’ve just listened to you….”

        “Jin,” I mumbled, heart aching. “I know you missed your friend… and I know I still love you… but I can’t just get back together with you after what you said….”

        “I know, I know. I crossed the line, I don’t expect you to take me back,” He said, tears falling down his face. I sighed, reaching over and wincing as I wiped his tears.

        “Seokjin, I have no doubt in my mind that you are my soulmate,” I whispered, frowning. “How about this…. We’ll call off the engagement, start all over. Then, in the future, if everything works out, we’ll try again.”

        “Really?” Seokjin asked, staring at me. I nodded, sighing.

        “It’ll take me some time to heal… physically and mentally… but I think we should try again,” I whispered, looking. I smiled softly, turning and looking back up at the ceiling. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still beg.”

        “Oh, I’ll be begging every day for the rest of my life for you,” Seokjin replied. “Y/n… what happened last night? Who did this to you?”

        “Well…” I started, tearing up once more. “That big case you had a while ago, the man I met in the grocery store, his hybrids came to attack me…. They said they liked the ring, and to get back at you would be to come for me…. Then….” Realization hit me with like a ton of bricks. “The boys, they saved me.”

        “Well, Jungkook, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi fought them, then Taehyung and Jimin called the ambulance and me…” Seokjin started. “That’s what they told me.”

        “Where are they? Are they okay?” I asked, staring at him.

        “Well… they’re waiting out in the waiting room. I told them to stay there in case…” He trailed off, frowning.

        “Seokjin,” I said, making him look at me. “I’m not relapsing in my fear of hybrids. Now, bring my boys in here, please.”

        Seokjin nodded, standing up and walking out. Almost instantly, Jungkook and Hoseok were through the door, wide eyed. Hoseok ran around, arms wrapping around me gently. I sighed in relief, hugging him as hard as I could. 

        “You’re okay,” I whispered. Namjoon came around, along with Yoongi, hugging me with Hoseok. “Boys, are you alright? Hurt anywhere?”

        “Just a couple of blows, nothing major,” Namjoon replied as we all pulled away. 

        “Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Jimin said, hyperventilating. I shook my head, motioning him over. He came and sat down, letting me hug him.

        “Boys, me being in this hospital bed is no one’s fault. Not yours, not Jin’s. I shouldn’t have run out so late,” I said, pulling away and wiping his tears.

        “But, we didn’t spend time with you,” Taehyung cried. “It’s our fault too that you were ignored….”

        “Well, I won’t argue with that,” I whispered, frowning at them. “Look, I missed you boys.”

        “Sooyoung is a bitch,” Jungkook said, glaring at the ground. I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I knew she was up to something, I just knew it, I should’ve done something.”

        “It’s in the past. Let’s just move on, and not mention her,” I asked, laying my head back and closing my eyes, a headache setting in.

        “You guys are going to have to beg too,” Yoongi said with a smirk.

        “I’ll never argue with begging, or praising,” I replied with a chuckle.

        “So… you aren’t scared of us…?” Hoseok asked, quietly. This caused the tension in the room to build, making me look at them as they all frowned, stepping back away from me.

        “No, not at all,” I replied, watching them all sigh in relief. “You all have taught me to love hybrids, no matter what. Yes, it was terrifying what happened, and a lot of old memories are coming back from the night I want to forget… but how could I ever hate the men who tried to save me…?”

        “Oh, thank god,” Hoseok breathed out, walking over quickly and kissing my lips before hugging me.

        “What about you and Jin…?” Yoongi mumbled, again, building the tension.

        “Well, we’ve called off the engagement,” Seokjin said, making them all frown. I could see the heartbreak in their faces.

        “But, we’re going to start over, see where it takes us,” I finished, nodding my head. “This relationship is bigger than us. It involves all of you boys. Plus, I still love Seokjin, and I know he’s my soulmate…. We’re just gonna take things slow, see where they go.”

        “God, I can’t wait for you to come home,” Jungkook said, walking over and laying in bed with me, wrapping his arms around my waist as I winced. He pouted, hiding his face.

        “Me too, Kookie… me too.”

[magicalsalamander]

Show Me Your Teeth

Pairing: BTS Jimin  ⇆ Reader

Genre: Rottweiler Hybrid | FBI | Fluff | Angst | Eventual Smut |

Summary: Hybrids were common amongst civilians, but monsters lurked, created by the government. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, is Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense, an allegiance of hybrids and federal officers. They were weapons breed for tactic and war. Special agent Y/L/N came back marked a failure after your secret last mission. Politics involved, you were to be assigned a Hound officer. What happens when the monster, Cerberus, gets assigned to you?    

Word: 11.6K

Rating: Mature; Explicit themes, mentions of guns, PTSD episode, possessive behavior, gunshot wounds, cruel behavior, torture, abuse, bullying, crude and discriminatory language. If I’ve missed any tags let me know.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I’ve been working on this for a few weeks and I hope you enjoy it. Originally a oneshot, now a twoshot. Lightly edited, please be kind.  

| Masterlist | Final

Lowering your hand from your brow you waited until you were signaled to ease. The hardened expression of the Director followed from the crumpled document on his desk to you, he gestured silently for you to sit. Carefully maneuvering your left arm as you sat down in one of the leather seats in front of his oversized desk. The mahogany desk was in a state of semi-cluttered, several stacks of papers yet the items closets to you were impeccable. His gold plaque with his name proudly written was polished as it gleamed.

Politics, the size was compensating for something.

The dark pigment under his baggy eyes shadowed deeper as his neutral expression wavered as he held your gaze. You were glad he couldn't hear your heartbeat, but it was near deafening in your ears. He folded his hands on top of his desk, cinching the shoulders of his black suit that was normally starched beyond movement. The amount of medals on the left breast had him wiggling his left arm in adjustment until he settled. The sheer amount of medals he's collected since his service to his time as the Director of the FBI was quite obnoxious.

You sat perched near the edge of your seat, you already had an idea of what was going to happen. As soon as you got off the plane you were escorted to headquarters, duffle bag still packed. In the steady voice, "Agent Y/L/N reporting back from Victiz. Sir, you requested my audience?"

He reached into his desk, medals clanking, and pulled out a thick manilla folder at least a hundred pages thick. Papers slid out of it as he let gravity take over and slammed it onto his desk. You didn't dare break eye contact with him focusing on the tip of his bulbous nose. The silence was eerie as he flipped it open, he pulled out a thick packet and placed it facing you. Quickly glancing down you read the title then back up, it was your report you had submitted.

"Y/L/N in your recent mission to Victiz, we've," clearing his throat, "come to realize that you require assistance."

Domestics was your playing field, but upon special request, you answered the call to duty, even if it lied overseas. You'd always say yes to the Director—at least, you used to. Loyalty ran deep in your veins as it was empathy, and pretense to serve him. Without him you wouldn't be here today, but…three months, three months had your eyes wavering in darkness.

You took in a deep breath; one you've been holding in for the last three months. You sharply gritted your teeth before you calmed yourself on the discrete exhale. You knew why he had called you and it wasn't because of your "lack of ability". It was his lack of ability to save his ass. Three months, you spent three months amongst a revolution to come home and be told you required assistance. You swallowed your pride in front of your commander. "Sir, I had no choice."

He arched a brow, "No choice?" He tilted his head in condescendence, "There is no excuse for weakness or mistakes Agent Y/L/N. Our country depends on you. I depend on you. We can't afford that type of mistake again—the world may be splitting because you couldn't prevent it. Do you understand Agent?"

Correction, his mistake. This was all diversion from the real problem. You became a special agent going through hell, fighting and outcompeting the rest to prove you were worthy. Seeing the other agents assigned a Hound used to put a smirk on your face. The Director even smirking alongside you as he praised you. With the vendetta you worked hard for five years to get where you are now, to earn his praise, assigned top-secret missions by the Director, without the help of a hound. You raised from the soil, trudged through the mud to stand where you are now—on your own.

Quickly your loyalty was turning to sludge and embolic. You fought to keep yourself empathetic and loyal. He was like a father after all to you. The eyes that once looked at you with pride and adoration turned to hate and bitterness.

You gritted your teeth, "Yes, Sir."

Adjusting himself to sit upright by smoothing out the lapels of his coat, "Every elite agent has a H.O.U.N.D and you are the last without one. The government specially created and trained these…monsters, so things like that won't happen. They never miss a target."

You were aware of them; you had seen agents with their own as the government began initiating the integration two years ago. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, was Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense. A specialized unit of canine hybrids that were bred for war, ruthless in the way they fought like their animal counterpart. Although they were human in resemblance except for the dog tail and ears. You didn't know much about them besides the occasion you saw other agents with their officer in passing. However, you heard tales of limbs being snapped by jaws, their extended fangs, and their bloodthirst. Rumor or not, you wouldn't question their ability—they are hell hounds as they were breed for.

"Agent, you were shot and held captive." He chuckled but it held no humor, it was condescending. "It was supposed to be easy for you, yet here you are injured. I never thought you'd disappoint me so greatly Y/L/N."

You bit the inside of your cheek taming your tongue behind your teeth. Your mind flashes back to three months ago when you sat down in the same office in the dead of night. There was a state of emergency in Victiz, the country was in an uproar over the tyranny as the public demanded a democracy. Your countries ambassador in Victiz was kidnapped by an extremist guerilla group trying to reestablish tyranny. The Victiz government did not want to be involved in the recovery of your representative.

The Director was right, it was supposed to be a simple rescue. You've run through drills of disarming and recovery a million times.

It was supposed to be.

Sneaking in through a slip in the wall you stuck to the wall as you navigated the warehouse. You hid behind crates as you glanced around the corner. The target was sitting alone in a foldable chair. A single overhead light that illuminated the isles intervalley shadowed his silhouette as he was hunched forward. Assessing your position you quietly loaded your hand with a knife. The sound of footsteps filled your ears. The world paused as you listened in catching a glance around, still in the shadows. Emerging from the shadows the footsteps took on a presence of a tall silhouette to a masked male figure.

You watched as the man raised a gun and pointed it directly at the target. "It'll all be over soon." He flicked his index over the pull trigger.

Switching your blade for your gun you stood up and sidestepped out. Pointing your gun at the captor, "Freeze!"

The man cocked a thick brow then pointed the gun at you. "Oh, we have visitors?"

The man chuckled, nudging the barrel against the ambassador's shoulder. "Your people here to rescue you. Looks like they just sent one, you must not be as important as you say you are."

The ambassador stood up from his chair and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up with a smirk and tucked his hands in his pockets. The pit of your stomach fell and rose to your throat with revolting ad nauseam. Your skin rolled in waves of goosebumps. Immediately you began calculating things in your mind as the man with the gun took a step forward towards you the ambassador stopped him with a raised hand. The ambassador took the gun from the man and pointed it directly at you. "The war begins tonight. Long live the tyrant."

He punctuated each last word, then he pulled the trigger.

Blinking away the memory, you looked up to your commander. "Director, I don—."

He cut you off with a hand held in the air. "Agent, I understand, but we are implementing the change whether you like it or not. You're getting a hound. He will be directly working alongside you and you are to take responsibility for him."

You tried once again, "Director—."

"A hybrid life is disposable but yours isn't Agent."

Fumes tickled in your stomach, yet, you sat with your tongue still; venomous words sitting at the tip of it for him. You—you still were loyal. You knew he was being harsh because of how all this had made him look. How this blunder in the ambassador's double nature had made him look incompetent, the FBI incompetent—and it rested all on your shoulders. Over the pain, blacking out for the most of it, you remember mostly darkness, the itchy blindfold, yet the patriotism you held tightly behind your clenched teeth stayed there.

You were loyal and always will be.

By implementing a hound, it would boost the false security that the forces were incomparable and fearful as whispered about in foreign lands. It was all politics. You were the punching bag while he shined with the glory of strengthening the nation in a time where the rest of the world is grasping for glory. He was making sure agents are strong and safe. In the shadow of glory, you were powerless and under his command to obey.

A soldier's duty to obey.

You were loyal and always would be.

He fished through the folder as he spoke, his voice taking on a harsh tone. "If you had one it wouldn't have happened Agent. I really trusted and believed in you, but I now know your skills. Certainly, it will never compare to a hound's. Don't ever forget you are representing me when you're out on the field." He snorted smugly under his breath, "Maybe you need a whole team of hounds."

You felt his words cutting deep, the bullet shards in your arm somehow burying deeper. His words hurt. This is where you open your mouth. "Director, I do not need a hound. I'm capable of handling myself."

He cleared his throat and sighed, "I'm not changing my mind Y/L/N."

Flipping through the folder again and pulled out a paper putting it over your report. Standing up from his desk he straightened out his jacket and rounded his desk. Glancing down at the application form a picture in the left corner showcases a picture of a man—no, a hybrid, a hound. The hybrid's face was handsome at first glance, but you didn't get to look more than that.

"This is H.O.U.N.D Officer Park, rottweiler, and top of his class. A real monster with a count. Got the impact of a truck when he strikes, and a good shot with a 364 score. The H.O.U.N.D has never seen anything like him. A true beast of a machine."

You read off the same stats that the general was giving to you. His list of awards and achievements trailed off to the second page you didn't bother to turn to. He was good, no he was great, but still…you didn't want the hound.

The Director cleared his throat and in a booming voice, "Officer Park, enter."

You heard the doorknob clink as it twists and heavily boots thumped rhythmically on the wooden floor. You twist around in your seat and came to face the rottweiler. His tall, lean figure filled out his pressed clothes. His white shirt was taunt as it alluded to the idea of the refined muscles underneath; silver tags hung from his neck and clanked softly as he marched until he paused a few feet from you. His black cargo pants that were tight around his thighs were tucked neatly into his polished, black combat boots that gleamed as he snapped his heels together to stand at attention as he saluted.

You finally took in his face, his features were handsome, silky dark hair carefully parted and pushed back, and full lips. Black, floppy ears equally as polished blended in with his dark hair. All hounds you had met so far had a more rugged appearance, scared and tattered from the action, yet he had none. You don't know why but that unsettled you. When your gaze finally reached his eyes you found the familiar rugged tension as they were boring forward and technical in tension. His gaze peeled from the Director's to yours as he finally lowered his salute.

The General stepped forth patting him on the shoulder, "Y/L/N I want to introduce you to Officer Park. He's under your care now."

You meet his eyes, the dark brown orbs, carefully analyze you as you are sure you portray the same tone. You held his eyes as you stood up, and soon it was clear he towered over you. You felt the need to state your presence. You took his extended hand and the callouses and thick fingers nearly engulfed your hand.

"Do you have your belongings Officer Park?"

He pulled his hand back and folded them behind his back lacing with his other, "Yes, Sir."

The Director turned to you and smiled, "Goodbye, Agent Y/L/N."

Your mouth was left clenched as you politely gestured and began walking out of the door assuming he would follow you. You heard the heavy boots trail after you as the door shut behind him.

This…this wasn't how you expected things to go.

Pushing open the front door with a bit of a huff, stepping inside you flicked on the light switch. When the Director said he would be under your care you didn't think literally. You thought he'd be at his barracks and he would just be present during work hours. You had realized quickly that he was meant literally under your care, under your household, you were in charge…of his care. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him walking tight-lipped from the driveway with his duffle bag. He walked as if he was marching, legs stiff and hair barely bouncing. His gaze was the most daunting, sharp and cold. Shaking the thought you shifted topics mentally. You couldn't be afraid of him. He was your hound. You'd have to go back tomorrow probably to collect the rest of his stuff.

You hooked your keys on the key rack. Stepping inside holding the door open for him you hurriedly defend your home. "I haven't been home in a few months, so I'm sorry for the dust and the mess."

He nodded in a curt motion. You toed off your shoes and placed them on their rack. He stood politely not too far from you awaiting direction. You weren't sure how this was going to work. You had a guest room, but it was mostly unused office space. With the door closed, it was quiet, you could only hear your awkward breathing. The tension in the atmosphere was heavy as you didn't know really what to do next. You rounded him nearly flattening yourself against the wall avoiding touching him as he nearly took up the whole entryway. "Uhm, will you…will you give me a minute? Just make yourself at home." You sped off before you had a chance to see his reaction.

Quickly you dropped your stuff off in your room and stood there for a moment. Your bed was made just like you left it, your robe was still draped over the bench at the end of your bed. Everything was as it seemed, but it didn't feel—nothing felt normal. You rubbed over your left arm and the soreness responded. Yes, this was real. You…you had a hound. Retreating you crossed the hall to the guest bedroom. You flicked on the lights and the room was nearly bare, furnished from your college budget. There was a full bed only a plain white sheet over it to protect the mattress. The end table, desk, and dresser were all covered in a fine layer of dust. The walls were bare, but the rest of your house was similar. Ever since you've moved in you've spent more time at headquarters or on missions. This was more of a hotel than a home.

You pulled the sheet off and speed across the hall and tossed it in the washing machine, then you dug into the cupboard. Do you even have any other sheets that are full size? Your bed is a king. Maybe you should just use the sheet you put in the wash. No, what if he wanted to rest? Finding another white sheet, you hopped to pull it off the top of the stack. You hissed as you reached up straining your injury as it burned to remind you of its existence.

A hand was placed gently on your back preventing you from tipping backward. Gasping under your breath you turned your head as he reached for the sheet you were attempting to grab. He was nearly pressed up against you, but the notion dissolved before you had time to register it happened. He held it out to you as you thanked him. Quietly he followed you to the room. Again you unfolded it but haphazardly flapped it about as your arm throbbed. Cautiously and silently he took it from you seeing you struggle again. He began making the bed.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you could handle it. You really could. You nodded rubbing your hand over your forearm. It felt odd. All of this was so sudden. Heading back to the cupboard you were able to pull the extra comforter out. It was a fluffy, white down nearly engulfing you as it was meant for your bed. You went into your room and took a pillow off your bed. You stood at the door as he tucked in the last corner of the bed and he stood at attention heels pressed. You carefully set the pillow and comforter on top of the bed and began unfolding it. Easily he helped as he finished the last few tugs.

You stood there staring at the down, as he awaited you. You were used to being in charge, you fell into the role of leadership easily, but this, this was a different kind of responsibility. Something caught your eye for a split second, you were sure you caught his tail wagging behind him before it stilled just as fast. "There is a bathroom right next door for you to use. The kitchen is free for you to use and eat anything you like."

He nodded.

It was an odd pause as you waited for him to fill the silence, say something, but he was a statue.

Pursing your lips you spoke, "Officer Park, I don't know the first thing about hybrids or hounds. If you're uncomfortable here, we can always get you your place, eventually, I'm sure you will want to anyways. For the time being, let's," you held your hand out to him, "get along."

His expression tightened if possible. He looked from your hand to your face and stepped forward taking your outstretched hand in a curt shake. You pulled the hand clutching it and nodded, "That's settled then." Slowly you began backing out. "I'll let you get settled in. Good night."

He nodded standing there still as you backed out and went into your room. Closing the door behind you you slumped against your door.

How did you end up here?

You rotated your shoulder dispelling the tension from sleeping. As you rounded the corner into your living room you paused in your steps as you made eye contact with Park. Yes. It took you a moment to remember. You were in charge of another being. He was sitting on the couch fully dressed, as he was wearing the same clothing he was yesterday. Your mind was still awakening from the haze of sleep. Didn't he bring a duffle bag with him? How long had he been awake? You squinted at the clock on the wall as it read out 7:30 am. You were still in your sweats and long sleeve pajamas. You felt underdressed in your own home. Slightly nodding towards him as a form of greeting he returned the gesture stiffly. You moved to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge and it was stark clean. It was as if you had just purchased it. You searched the cupboards and it was the same, except for a single random can of beans.

You came back out and stood at the entrance of the kitchen. "Officer Park."

He stood up hearing his name and hovered by the edge of the couch.

"I don't have any food here. I'm going to call for delivery," you paused suddenly remembering, "later, we can pick up the rest of your things from the barracks while we are out."

"I have everything I own with me, Miss."

Hearing his voice was jarring as the only time you remember hearing it was yesterday when you first met. His voice was softer and melodic in comparison to his exterior. For a rottweiler, his ears were more Doberman like as they were perked. Belatedly you then realize they were docked, probably for safety purposes.

Everything? You refrained shifting your expression, the last thing he needed was pity. You carefully prodded. "Park, is that your only change of clothes?"

He nodded confidently. "Yes, Miss."

His only pair of clothing? You anticipated that he'd have more at least a personal blanket, a trinket, something. The Director's words echoed in your ear from last night. "Hybrid's lives are disposable, yours isn't."

Anger fills you as you process it all. You'd expect the government to treat them well, yet they treated them like they were--disposable. Rubbing your left arm, you paused soaking in your thoughts at the small realization. If he only had one pair of clothes, exactly how was he living before?

He sensed your unease. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. Did his lack of items upset you? He didn't know how he could correct his error.

Licking your lips, you moved forward to head back down towards the hallway. "Let me get dressed I'll be right back."

He nodded and stood there with the same blank expression. Seeing the lack of response, you smartened up and turned on the T.V and handed him the remote. "Watch something while I'm gone, I shouldn't be too long. Food will be here soon."

He analyzed the control as if it was something alien. You slipped behind the wall over the hallway. Making a motion you pointed behind you, "I'll be back."

He stared up from his standing position, his knee jerked until he straightened it to place. "Yes, Miss."

------

You spent longer in the shower than you had anticipated. The warmth of the water was soothing, and you felt the painful kinks leave you. Before you got in the shower you called the café and placed an order. After your shower, you dressed for the day. The doorbell rang as you were toweling off your hair. You grabbed your wallet and headed towards the door. As you rounded towards the door, Park was crouching and hoovering by the front door. Before you could move further Park growled viciously, and it sent a chill down your spine. "Miss, stay back! Intruder."

You quirked a brow before you understood what was going on. You couldn't help but laugh under your breath before you smothered it. "Park, step down."

He tensed, hesitant on obeying your command. You repeated yourself, but it was followed by a breathy chuckle. He couldn't understand why you laughed; this was serious. An unfamiliar person was on the other side of the door! He had to protect!

You pushed past his blockade, but he was hot on your trail, body tense and ready the second something goes wrong. You opened the door a scrawny teen held a large plastic bag. His voice cracked as he held out the receipt, "Whoa, dude, ugh—de-delivery for Y/n."

You smiled ignoring his other commentary. "That's me." You gave him the money and a tip as you exchanged the bag from the kid. You waved ensuring he got back to his car safely as the teen practically ran back to his car. Shrugging you turning around in to get a face full of a hardened chest that was flexing as he heaved with each rumble. Your eyes widened as you jumped back nearly tripping. His fangs were out and you realized they started high up in his gums. His ears were perked forward and eyes were darkened as he looked feral. You finally realized why the teen's hand was trembling, the stuttering, and practically running back to his car. His being sent another chill down your spine when he looked down at you, but you gulped it back. You couldn't be afraid of your officer.

Putting on a smile you reassured him, "It's okay, it's just the delivery guy."

As you closed the door his neck was nearly stretched, veins protruding in his neck as he watched the beat-up Honda Civic drive off before you shut the door.

He encroached the door and stared out the small window. Yes, just moments ago you were spooked, but then it hit you. He was kind of silly, he was acting like a real guard dog. Especially when his shoulders slightly jumped as you could tell he was building up a bark that left in quiet huffs. You couldn't help biting your lip to suppress the laugh again. For someone who looked like a mafia boss, he was being fussy about a delivery boy. You did a double-take as you realized there was a small nub that was slightly wagging within his pants. He had a tail? You tilted your head watching it wag before you realized you were staring at his butt. Which was plump, but that wasn't the point! How could you stare! You quickly looked away and began your trek to the living room.

Cooling down the flush that had begun to creep up your neck, you called him, "Park, he's gone, it's okay." You crouched down as you set the bag of food on the coffee table. Fishing out the trays you went into the kitchen to grab some drinks. Looking over your shoulder Park still stood frozen in the entryway halfway between leaning to you and glancing out the window. This time you couldn't contain your laughter, yup, he was kind of silly. "Come on, eat."

His brows raised at the tinkling sound of your laugh. His ears twitched at the soft sound, it almost quelled him completely as the sound danced around in his chest. He…liked that sound. However, he wasn't one to forget his role. Glancing back at the door once, he carefully walked over to you robotically. Standing there you pointed to the couch, "Sit." As soon as the words left your mouth you realized that sounded like a command for an actual dog you changed your wording. "Please take a seat. I don't know what you like, so I just got you the same thing that I get. It's good I promise." It struck you, you spun in your spot, "Do you have any food allergies?"

His eyes were wide as saucers, "No, Miss."

Sighing in relief you handed him a tray that he took graciously with two hands. "Bon appetit."

You sat comfortably on the floor and opened your tray revealing the savory breakfast bagel sandwich. This was one of the first things you had wanted ever since you came back. Bringing it to your mouth you were in heaven as you took the first bite, savoring all the breakfast essentials.

Park was staring at you the whole time, watching the way you casually ate.

You turned to him and realized he still hadn't opened his food. Your smile fell, "What's wrong, is it not what you like?"

His ears perked up, eyes wide as he shook his head, "No, It's alright, Miss." He slid down onto the floor next to you. You watched as he finally popped open as you took a bite of your sandwich. The tip of his pink tongue peeked out as he picked up the sandwich. He looked at you, then he took a small bite before he paused as if he was paralyzed. The flavors danced on his tongue and it was near euphoria. He had never tasted something so flavorful and delicious. The only thing he had ever been fed back in the labs was supplemental meals in pellets or slop that was just an off shade of brown.

You watched his expression carefully, afraid he would hate it, but who could hate breakfast sandwiches? Suddenly his eyes gleamed as the edges creased in an eye smile. He ravenously began devouring the sandwich in large bites noisily. His hands were empty within seconds except for crumbs as he sucked on his thumbs getting all the savory oil. His tail was wagging fast as his pants made soft rustling sounds. You couldn't help it, a giggle spilled as you watched his reaction. A hot blush covered his cheeks as he stared at you with a finger in his mouth. The sound again that was like a call to something internal within him beckoned him to look at you. That sound…he couldn't understand why you were laughing. Nothing funny had happened.

He looked gentile for the first time since his arrival as his eyes sparkled wide. You wondered how he could do that go from looking so terrifying to so gentle you couldn't believe he'd hurt a fly.

You had the great idea of getting extra; you took the empty tray and replaced it with the empty tray. He shook his head trying to place it back, "No, I'm fine Miss."

You placed it back in his lap, "Please, I got more than enough. Eat."

You turned back to your meal and the TV finally paying attention to what was on. He looked back and forth between you and the tray, squirming in his seat. He wanted to eat, but it was too much. His stomach believed otherwise, but he would be fine if he ignored it like he usually did. It was more than he's ever been offered. Were you testing him? Yet, you weren't turning around. Your body language wasn't tense. Carefully he popped the tray open, he gazed at you, waiting for a reaction, but you kept chewing. He picked up the sandwich and began eating, a little faster than necessary in case you changed your mind at any point. He'd deal with the consequences later. Eating so fast he began choking as he swallowed nearly the whole sandwich down.

Rapidly you poured him a glass of water and handed him the glass, "Here drink this!"

He took it and drank the whole glass, sighing in relief as he cleared his throat. When he finally was all right he couldn't look you in the eye, embarrassed with himself. He waited for his punishment, tensing his body for the hit.

You smiled, realizing his tray was empty again. You looked at the tray and realized he was clenching his fist until they were turning white. A sadness overcame you that had him whining as he scented the shift in you. You reached into the bag and pulled out yet another sandwich. You gently replaced the empty one with another, his fist still tight. Softly you assured him, "You don't have to eat so fast; no one is going to steal your food. I won't ever keep food from you."

Although it felt odd to say it, you wanted to assure him. You wanted him to be comfortable. This was going to be your life from now on. Park was going to always be a part of your life whether you liked it or not. He was your hound.

He was your hound.

On a sigh, you spoke words you never thought you'd be saying. "This is your home too." You brushed your still slightly wet hair from your face when he remained stoic, face recessing back into a neutral blank.

As you rustled your hair your sweet scent filled the air. He realized how sweet it was as you rustled back as it filtered the air erasing the small sadness that was there before. It was intoxicating as he waited for it to be ruined by a foul scent that usually accompanied lying. Yet, it stayed sweet, it had been since he had met you.

You licked your lips and nodded assuming that was the end of the conversation. If there was one thing you learned through your training as an agent is patience. He'd speak when he'd want to. You knew space and you'd want the same. Just as this has been a lot for you, you can only imagine how stressful this must have been for him. Maybe you needed the silence to answer more than you could want words from him.

He stared at the cardboard top of the tray. He rubbed his thumbs over the paper feeling the small ridges. This was real. He blinked as he couldn't place the feeling. He had never felt something like this before. It made him squint his eyes, it bothered him he couldn't understand the feeling.

"Okay, Miss."

You were surprised at the sound of his voice that came almost too quiet. You offered him a smile to let him know you heard him. He stared at you with eyes that were swirling with emotions as his ears swiveled slightly. Clearing your throat, there was a lot you had to learn. Oddly, you settled into a comfortable relaxation. You forgot about your arm. You forgot about why Park was being sprung into your life. The failure, the politics, it all.

A halo of light glows around you as he found himself staring at you. He reached up and rubbed over his chest, that odd feeling had been swirling around for a while now. It was probably the need to protect you. Protect…his…home now. This…was…his—his thoughts were cut off by the sound of your laughter again as you laughed at something on T.V. He followed your line of sight and to your face as your face scrunched up as you lingered in whatever was funny.

He clutched the tray in his hands. Yes, that must be what he's feeling. It must be that. He will protect you.

You somehow fell asleep somewhere between the episodes of some sitcom you didn't know the name of played. You woke up on the couch and Park was still sitting on the floor watching whatever was on TV. Lightly blushing, he must've placed you on the couch. Not dwelling on that fact, you wiped the sleep out of your eye as you looked at the clock and it was just a bit past noon.

You sat up straight and Park turned around to look at you hearing the rustling.

You joked, "Hello." He nodded his head.

"Sorry for falling asleep." He shook his head to disagree.

The coffee table had been cleaned. You thanked him for it and his tail wagged again before he tempered it. Getting up and stretching you winced and hissed when you realize you had been sleeping on your left arm.

He stood up immediately, "Miss are you okay?"

You waved it off, "I must've slept funny, that's all." Rotating your arm, you released the tension in your shoulder, but it was sore still as you lowered it.

He didn't believe you. He noticed you were awkward with your left arm as you always were caressing and cradling it. Before he could comment you moved past him. You sighed internally realizing that you needed to head to the store for groceries. You couldn't keep ordering take out. In the kitchen, you dug in your junk drawer and got out a notebook and began writing a list. Knocking the pen against your chin you tried to think of anything you're missing after jotting down the basics. You went back to the living room, sitting down on the floor again and letting the notepad rest on the coffee table. "Park, what do you need at the store?"

He shook his head.

You quirked a brow, "Please, tell me what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

He hung his head low, in a whisper you barely caught onto, "There's hybrid soap that's unscented. That's it."

You raised a brow, "That's it?"

He nodded.

"Okay." You ripped the page out and stuffed the list into your purse. Slipping on your shoes, "I'll be right back. I'll just be a bit."

He stood up immediately alarmed. "I will go with you. I need to stay with you."

You raised a brow, crossing your arms across your chest, "It's just shopping. I can handle myself." He was poking at a sore spot. You could handle yourself. You can handle yourself. He stood chest puffed in full seriousness. The same assurance he had before with the delivery boy returned.

"I'm okay on my own."

"I will go."

Realizing you were arguing with the wall you swallowed your pride. This. This was something you were going to have to learn to deal with. You were going to learn how to be a "team" and work with another. Chanting to yourself, you reminded yourself this was a learning process. "Fine, come on."

Quickly he slipped his boots on and you unhooked your keys and closed the door behind him.

Putting the car into park it struck you. The whole car ride he had been quiet, the soft hum of music playing from the radio had filled the silence. Before getting out of the car you turned to him, "Hey, are you okay going around shopping?"

He turned to you, "Yes, Miss."

You cringed internally at the formality he had been calling you Miss this whole time. But you respected it, it would probably feel more awkward using first names.

It felt stupid but you felt the need to remind him, "Please don't growl at anyone, unless they're a real threat okay?" You wanted to let him know, "If it ever is too much, let me know. We can leave at any point."

He nodded, lips slightly pouting, and you both got out of the car.

Stepping into the store you carefully side-eyed Park and his eyes were telling a different story as he was searching nearly everyone for threat. You decided to let him do whatever made him comfortable, even if it was glaring at everyone. You pulled out a shopping cart and picked up everything off your list including some things that weren't. More things weren't on your list than were, but who were you to deny your love for the good stuff. You watched Park if he took an interest in anything, but he was natural and bleak about it all.

You stopped in the hybrid section. Scattered through the store there had been a few, but truly you noticed other hybrids with their owners in this section. There were all types of rabbits, feline or canine hybrids. Before yesterday you never really noticed them, it all was normalcy, now with Park, you felt more aware. When you passed them with Park you noticed them freeze and divert their eyes from him. The rabbit hybrid nearly tugged its owner out of the aisle. You felt bad for them, but you both had the right to be there just as much as everyone else. Some other canines dared to stare at him before they were yanked away. Okay, maybe Park wasn't the one you should be worried about. He hovered over you, shoulders back and chest puffed. You called to Park, distracting him momentarily from staring down others. "Choose whatever you need."

The selection was near bare, except for the essentials. He glanced back frequently as he selected his soap. You watched other owners with heir hybrids, they were selecting more than just bar soap. When he came back with a bar that was in a basic box you smiled at him, wanting to be sure to always encourage this behavior of making his own choice. "Are you sure?" He nodded and he immediately reverted to his guard stance. You asked him to place it in the cart and then you walked over to where the other hybrids and their owners just were and began picking the scarcest products off the shelf. It must mean they're good and popular.

"Miss?"

"Yes?" You placed a bottle down as the side was dented and picked up one in better condition.

He looked between you and the products. "What are you doing, Miss?"

You glanced at him, "Do you like," you popped open the lid of the shampoo refreshed by the clean scent, "this one?"

He took it from you and placed it back on the shelf. "I'm fine."

You picked up the shampoo back and placed it in the cart and carried on. He sighed and followed along as you kept picking up things like a brush, fur shine conditioner, vitamin tablets, a loofah, and a toothbrush. He had remained quiet the whole time and as rounded the corner there was a very small selection of basic clothing. You recalled back to his confession earlier and the idea saddens you at your ignorance. It struck you that last night he must've slept in the same clothes he was in now. You held up sweats and a shirt up to him he stiffened as your hands were nearly touching him. You hummed when you were content with the sizing before you picked up more and placed them in the cart. Pointing to underwear and socks, "You can pick those yourself." He fidgeted on the spot as if he was glued. You decided to pinch a little, "Or do you want me to pick them?" He unglued himself from his spot and he tossed in a package of each reluctantly. You smiled at him at your small victory. This would have to do, for now, you'd order things online later.

He still stood protectively over you, but at some point, you had ignored the feeling of his hovering. You could feel how uncomfortable he was. Your hand itched to reach out and settle him, but you weren't sure how comfortable he would be with that either.

"You can have things to Park." You turned to him, with a softness that had him relaxing, "I'm happy to get it for you. I want to do this for you."

His tail wagged as you began carting away.

Opening up your mailbox you pulled out the mail then shoved open the door with bags and mail in your hand. Waddling to the kitchen with the bags you set them down as Park came just behind you with his arms full of the remaining bags. The top of his head barely peeking above the bags. Your eyes widened as you helped him place the rest of the bags down. You could handle heavyweight, but you didn't want to accelerate joint pain and destroy the recovery you've made so far. He seemed completely unaffected though.

He stood patiently again as you turned to him, realizing he was awaiting a command. You cleared your throat as you grabbed bags. You found the bags holding his products. You handed them off to him. He hesitated as he nearly set the bags down, "Let me help. Tell me what to do."

You waved him away, "It's alright, I got it. Why don't you take a shower? I'm sure you feel gross after a long day. Do you need help figuring that out?"

Again, he found himself conflicted. He couldn't sense the duplicity in your tone. He waited for you to yell at him. Waited for you to shout commands, punish him for being useless, something, yet you stood up and stared at him with eyes that nearly smiled on their own. He was stunned at the way you looked at him. Gently you picked up his bags and handed it to him, "You can put your stuff away and the clothing you got on now put them in the wash. You remember from yesterday right? You can pick out just an outfit then the rest can go in the wash."

You shooed him off when he stood there dumbfounded. Taking your statement as final he picked up his bags and disappeared around the corner.

You sighed a bit in relief, an ache left in its wake. You hadn't realized how tense you were all day. Taking care of someone else was exhausting. The way he was looking at you was confusing. It was like he was expecting something, but you weren't sure what. Instead of dwelling on the what-ifs, you sorted all the groceries. It was odd seeing your home full of food. You never had this much food before. You always made instant food when it was just yourself. You folded all the plastic bags into one and placed them in a bin by the front door. Coming back you glanced around the kitchen, then picked up the mail.

You shifted through it as the majority of it was junk mail with a few exceptions of bills. Stuffing it into the wall rack for your mail you were cautious to separate the bills from junk.

Your phone begins vibrating in your pocket. You read the caller ID, 000, and your face hardened. You answered and a distorted voice spoke, "Report tomorrow at 0700 for a new assignment." There was a click and the call was over. Sighing heavily you tossed your phone on the counter uncaring if it cracked the screen. You leaned on the counter, elbowed supporting your head as you run your fingers through your hair. You clutched your head, breathing through your nose.

He came out of the corner, his hair slightly dripping wet as he toweled off his ears. His face scrunched up in disgust, it smelled sour. It was from you, clutching the towel he rounded the corner as you were standing back up. Your face was slightly flushed, and your eyes held this look of exhaustion. The smile had disappeared from you. He dropped his towel as he marched over to you, "Miss, is everything alright? Did I do something wrong? I knew I should've helped you. I'm—."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he nearly rushed you. Realizing your position you laughed it off, and quiet his resolve, although your voice isn't as strong as you wish it could've been. "No, I'm fine, It's fine." He didn't believe you as he carefully looked over your face.

You realized his hair was dripping. You picked up the towel from the floor and tiptoed slightly as you rustled the towel over his hair. "Don't walk around with wet hair, it's cold out. You can't be catching a cold." You were careful of his ears.

He froze on the spot.

When you pulled away, your smile had returned. He was staring directly at you, nearly inches apart, eyes wide. Your heart skipped a beat. You took in his jawline, tawny skin that was slowly turning rosy and his pupils dilating. Realizing your position and what you had done you dropping the towel and it draped over him like a ghost. He whined as you laughed going towards the fridge. You try to cover your embarrassment by acting normal, "Dry your hair with the dryer next time." You opened up the fridge, "Let's eat."

One ear popping out he pulled the towel back he stepped forward, "Let me help Miss." His cheeks were rosy, and you sure yours was too.

Surrendering to his eagerness your cave, "Okay."

Surprisingly Park was a great cook. You gave him simple instructions to cut vegetables and they were sliced and diced neatly. You thanked him as you slid them off into the pan. The house filled with the smell of stir fry and just in time the rice cooker jingled as you turned off the burner.

"Can you get some plates, please? It's in the left cabinet."

He nodded and set two plates beside you. With your good hand, you scooped food onto the plates. When they were filled, he took them to the table without propagation. You fished inside the fridge for some cold water and the drawers for utensils and brought that to the table with you.

Looking at the table with steaming plates Jimin stood by the table waiting for you. You set the water down and utensils and sat down. Your eyes glowed as you stared at the food. You picked up your fork and began poking at your food and shoved it in your mouth. You're a few bites in before you realized he was sitting across the table food untouched. He picked up his fork and began eating after you had taken your first bites.

You wanted to know more, you wanted to understand why. The report the Director gave was bare-bones, but you could inquire enough. You had been on a mission before countless times, analyzed war criminals, and more, but this felt out of reach. If you were going to keep Park then you wanted to know more. There was no better way of getting information than just asking. You swallowed your food then asked, "Park, may I ask you something?"

His body tensed slightly as he swallowed and answered formally, "Yes, Miss."

While shopping today you did your shallow research as you watched those with hybrids of their own. All hybrids had something around their necks, collars, like chokers around their neck. You casually inquired, "Do hybrids wear…collars?"

"It's a sign of identification and ownership."

You quirked your brow, "Do you have one."

He pulled out from his shirt dog tags on a silver ball chain. You nodded at it and kept poking at your food. The biggest question sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't ask it. Instead, you choose to look him over. "Do you like your new clothes? Do they fit right?"

He nodded rapidly, "Yes, Miss."

They looked comfortable as they fit him a bit oversized, but it would give him wiggle room.

He finished his meal and stood from the table taking it to the sink. You followed shortly after with your dish. He fidgeted on the spot before he thanked you for the meal. Shutting off the water and drying your hands on the towel rack you leaned against the counter.

"Park."

He paused and robotically turned and stood at attention at the entrance of the kitchen. You looked down then back up at him, "New assignment—for us, meeting tomorrow at headquarters. Be up early."

His posture stiffens. As his hands began clutching at his sweatpants. He nodded then rounded about the corner slipping into his room.

You flicked off the kitchen light as you signed, why did that feel so heavy? You massaged your arm as you walked to your room. That night you laid in bed doing a bit of research on hybrid things. You browsed for a few hours shopping for things that others recommended. You bought clothes varying from dark in color to light unsure of where his palate was. You guess the size going for the larger size for safety and it possibly shrinking in the dryer. You'd rather him be comfortable than enclosed in his clothes. Checking out you bought a list full of things, but you don't spend your paycheck on yourself, so you placed it in your cart without a second thought. He deserved it.

You shut your laptop and thought about the hound sleeping in the next room over. Was he sleeping alright? You heavily sigh allowing your body to sink into your bed. You were going to have a long day tomorrow and you needed your sleep. Closing your eyes you had a million thoughts going, but the main one was of the hound in the room over.

You just had to hold out for tomorrow.

"Your next mission agent is to be the personal guard the governor on his trip to the capitol from the airport. He will be arriving from the capital after receiving an acknowledgment from the president and we expect a lot of eyes to be on him."

Your blood boiled internally. This was a job meant for a mid-rank agent, not you. Yet, you tried to sound eager, "Yes, Sir."

He smiled, it felt so greasy. "Your mission starts in three months upon his arrival."

"Understood, Sir."

He looked towards Jimin who stood at the edge of the room at attention. The Director smiled, "Park, is Y/l/n treating you well?"

"I'm content Sir."

The Director looked at you, "I knew this was a great idea. You are much better off with him."

He stood up and you followed along clenching your jaw. "Thank you, Sir."

As you were walking away. "Agent Y/L/N."

You turned on your heel completely facing him. "No more mistakes."

Your face was hard set, yet pleasant enough. Park noticed your fist clenching as you crossed them behind your back.

"Understood Sir."

Park followed along silently. He could smell the change in your scent—it was ruining the sweetness. You stood in front of the elevators and pressed the down button. Park waited behind you, standing tall. He had no idea why you were uncomfortable. He found the Director behavior odd. What had he meant by making a mistake?

When the elevator opened you stepped in and immediately into the floor panel you punched in the code 45730 harder than necessary. For a second the elevator stalled, then it began dropping down. The elevator went beyond the parking garage basement as it continued to drop. Jimin's eyes watched, internally reading himself for anything.

Without saying anything you stepped out of the elevator he followed you to an internal door. You scanned your ID before you stamped your finger to go inside. Jimin scanned his dog tags and was allowed inside behind you.

As the door whorled open with an electrical buzzer sounding off, a sudden bang introduced you both to the gym. Flashes of light caught his attention as he looked into glass rooms. The rooms each were unique and technical as digital screens were projected in the air with stats while within the room holographic simulations of hostile scenarios played as agents trained. You kept marching like you were running to a fire. He only caught glimpses of the intense training going on, monitoring their movements in those split seconds. The arena opened up and agents were firing off in succession as they shot down the range. Seeing rows of stations, he realized you had brought him to a gun range.

You rotated your left shoulder. You stepped up to a station and placed your hand on top of the glass desk. The monitor glowed blue as a digital screen popped up. "Put your hand on the glass Park." He followed along, and the desk expanded into a dual station. His information appeared on the screen alongside yours. Selection of weapons appeared next, "Pick what you want to use."

He went through and selected a handgun like yourself. The proper wear appeared on the right wall of the station. The guns were simultaneously present from the walls.

After having the debriefing, you found yourself feeling wound up. You wanted to prove yourself again, prove you were good enough. The drudging task he gave you, protecting the newly elected governor, was for the rookies. Grabbing it you inspected it thoroughly. You shook out your left hand. The guns weren't typical, although they recoil, sound and weighed as much as a real one, they weren't.

You didn't meet eyes with Park as you spoke, "I'm sure you've done this before."

He had. Too many times to count. He had spent a lot of time in ranges, less modern than this. He remembers when he was a young pup and he stood at the other end of the rage facing the abysmal barrel. Officers commanded the older hounds with real guns. It was a miss and survive. A test for all.

He was brought to the present when the holographic screen began changing as infographics and widgets displayed difficulty levels, strategy, and intensity. Selecting a random high-performance program you reached over and pressed the approval for his side of the dual station to fully expand to accommodate you both. His eyes followed the station walls as they moved and widened a few feet. Your eye twitched as you brought your arms up finger away from the trigger as you tightened your hips.

"Ready yourself, Park."

Selecting random the widget flipped through until it stopped on the hostage situation. A short debriefing appeared on the screen, entailing the scenario. Your shoulders tightened, a thing you learned to never due, and the motion caused you to wince as you felt the muscle tug around your injury. You were fine. You were fine.

Situation: A bank robbery and the civilians inside and employees are being held, hostage. Save the hostages.

As soon as the countdown began on the screen from three, two, one, the bank doors opened, and fake comrades joined you both as you enter. Five criminals circulate the main lobby as they surround hostages piled in the middle. The simulation was interactive, and it expected you to act accordingly. Slipping into your roll you commanded, "Drop the weapons and get down!"

Park held his position as his gun was raised defensively mirroring your stance.

The criminals laughed simulated jargon of them arguing and they refused to place down their weapons. You repeated your commands and they still refused. You scanned the room again, analyzing the exits, windows, and corners, there weren't many options, but the desk offered refuge. Counting the seven hostages surrounded by the five criminals, the odds of getting the robbers away were slim. But the margin of possibility was where you thrived.

"Park, on my mark."

Just like you had predicted the robber facing you reacted hotly by grabbing a hostage and holding a gun to their temple. "I'll do it! I'll do it!"

You continued, "Release the hostage, no one has to get hurt. Put down your weapons!" You slightly nodded but Park had caught it as the mark.

The robber's hand trembled with anger before he threw the hostage and began unleashed rounds at you. Screams and sounds of chaos erupted. The other criminals began targeting the other commanders. Your eyes worked a million miles an hour as you dodged bullets moving forward behind the wall. Park was opposite of you, finding a shield in the opposing wall.

When the sound of gunshots paused you took the chance and shot at the criminals.

"Park, right!"

He let a few rounds out, both successful as they land their targets. The hostages scream and run towards you but disappeared as they simulate running past you.

A robber appeared next to you as you fired at their extremities. Death is never the goal, inebriation is. Assassination isn't a solution. The bank begins shifting into the warehouse as you panted, breathing faster and faster. Seeing the lone chair and a man with a gun pointed at you took form. A slow smirk built on their face as their finger shifted to be over the trigger and they pulled. You had been so lost in thought you forget what was going on. Suddenly you were pushed back as he stood in front of you. His side of the screen flashed red. He had been shot, kill shot to the chest

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. "PARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Protecting you."

You gazed at him, shock filtered, again those words ring clear in your ears: hounds are disposable. Bile built in your throat. If this was real, he would've been dead. You failed Park. You…failed, again.

Panic filled your heart creeping like an icy cold grip and your hand began to tremble. Your face was stone cold, but inside a storm was brewing.

Boisterous laughter filtered through and broke you from your beginning hysteria. They snorted at the end of their sinister laughter, bringing their hand up to cover their mouth. You pulled your trembling hand behind you as you turned and Jimin looked over your shoulder.

Eyeing you up and down and then Park a snarky smirk plastered on her lips as they stride closer to you both. "Ah, Y/L/N, you finally got one." Her eyes stared at Park for a moment longer than necessary. Subtly you shifted yourself in front of him. "I see the Director finally recognized that you weren't perfect." Her lips pulled higher. Agent Smith had been in the federation longer than you have. Her father was from the same fraternity as the Deputy Director. She let everyone know proudly where she came from and how she knew people in high places. Instantly you were rivals after she opened her mouth. However, during training, she was one of your main motives for climbing the ladder. You were better than some rich girl with connections. Proudly you climbed to your position on your own, no family, no friends, just you.

It's always been that way anyway.

Finding yourself on steady grounds, pushing nausea aside, you smirked back sweetly. Setting your gun down, "I'm glad your back safe Smith. Your last mission was watching that rich girl from Montenegro, right? How was it playing a shopping assistant?"

Her smirk didn't deter. "Assistant? Please. At least I didn't fail. Daddy told me all about how the Director said you were a failure. You couldn't handle a simple rescue mission. Makes me concerned for the rest of us."

She cut deep and quick. Park next to you listened to it all, quickly glancing at you. He hadn't heard of this. He wasn't told why he was now your hound. He could feel you change though. It was unsettling him.

Quick on your feet, "The only concern you should have is if Daddy is going to buy you another spot on a mission. How much did your Daddy pay for your last mission?" It was petty. This was petty, out of character. Today wasn't your day.

Her face blistered with anger. "You bitch! I wish they left you in Victiz to die in that cell."

Park growled, a rolling growl. Her eyes widened in surprise like yours. Park's eyes were jet black, he appeared like a feral beast encroaching over you with his presence. His fangs were exposed as his lips pulled back. He made no motion forward, but Smith knew if she moved offensively, he would act. Realizing she was out of her reach, Smith flinched as she corrected herself rolling her eyes pretending it didn't bother her. You hadn't realized her hound was behind her. Stomping away she picked a station leaving you standing there with Park.

You hadn't realized her hound had been with her as he stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Cerberus." The name came shakily out of the hound, their doe eyes staring, body frozen. "Yo-you're alive." The word came out as a whisper. The hound didn't get say more as Smith snapped calling the hounds attention. Without another word, the hound booked it, tail between his legs.

Park watched the hound with careful eyes. Your mind was elsewhere, desperately swallowing anger. You turned back to the monitor as it blared out "Mission Failed." You were too embarrassed to look at him. You were ashamed of yourself. You had never acted that way. You never let her get under your skin. The last comment stung like a slap across your face. Who was this person you've become? You shut it down quickly, setting all things back appropriately.

"We're leaving." You commanded stiffly.

He watched you for a few moments as you held your left arm as you walked away. Setting his gear down he began after you.

The house was dark, yet you didn't bother flicking on the lights as you took off your shoes in the entryway. The quiet ride home had let your though mull over. You were so disappointed with yourself. Words from the director, Smith, you could handle hers, but…Park, when he took the bullet for you—it was all too much. You were fatigued, your arm was ebbing in pain. "I'm going to sleep." Without further explanation, you rounded the corner and went into your room.

He stood there in the entryway, the darkness feeling suffocating as you walked away. He couldn't understand why you were so upset. He couldn't understand why you screamed at him when he took the bullet for you. Why was that woman yelling at you, he couldn't control it when she said you should die in that cell. He was going to protect you. You would never die as long as he was around. Where did he go wrong? If his ears could flatten, they would. If his tail could hide between his legs, it would be. He messed up, again.

He found his feet moving before he was aware of it. He wanted to reach out. His feet were moving fast until he felt a surging pain followed by a crunch on the hardwood floor. Retracting back he realized it was your ID. Picking it up he stared at it, the person in the ID looked so cold, so frigid, similar to how you looked now. It made his insides itch uncomfortably, it felt wrong. That you felt wrong.

Clutching it in his fist he walked through the darkness, eyes adjusted for it, and he stood in front of your door. He could hear your soft breathes, but your heart was beating fast. The tainted scent that was normally sweet was nearly rolling from under your door like smoke. He clutched your ID in his hand tight enough that the edge of the plastic badge dug into his skin.

Soft knocks rapped at your door. It took you a moment before you answered. Park was standing at the door staring at you directly. It felt like time had slowed before his fist unclenched and he held out your ID. You took it from him staring down at it. All your energy had been sapped from you and in barely a whisper, "Thank you."

His tongue poked through his thick lips as he opened his mouth but he clamped it shut quickly. He began turning on his heel heading back to his room.

"Park." Guilt ate at you.

He paused and turned robotically.

Clenching your ID. "I don't want you to ever take a bullet for me." His eyebrows perked. "You are not disposable, especially not because of me." You knew he had heard everything Smith had said. "I'm sorry you're in this mess. I'm sorry you're tied to me. Again, let me know if you want to leave, I'd understand."

You closed the door unaware of the sullen look on his face. The mask breaking for a crescent fallen expression. He moved at the speed of light catching the door before you closed it. The fire in his eyes raged like rumbling lava. He pulled it open fully as you stood there shocked. His posture was strong as the muscles bulged from underneath his shirt.

"Do you want me to leave?" Your mouth fell agape, caught off guard. Vulnerability bled through his words, yet it still sounded scripted, like a duty. But a part of you wanted to believe it wasn't just his duty. It was too quiet and panic began to fill Park's chest replacing the itch. "Please, don't make me leave. Please…I don't want to –I'm going to protect you until the end I promise, please, don't make me leave."

Your heart broke as you fought back tears. The harshness of his words hit you, especially as he punctuated the last three words. Although you had only been with him shortly, you didn't hate him. You had forgotten, selfishly belatedly realized how your behavior had a profound effect on him.

"Stay." You cleared your throat and spoke clearly, "You can stay."

It was silent between you both. He was trembling. His hands felt itchy again, that odd feeling he had of wanting to reach out instead he reverted to comfort. He resumed attention stance, "Yes, Miss."

"Y/n. Call me y/n. Don't call me Miss anymore."

His pupils dilated hearing your name for the first time. He had never called anyone by their first name before. He felt almost like he was committing treason, but he tested it anyway. "Y/n."

You smiled and nodded. That smile, that smile was now making his stomach itch again.

He fidgeted in his place, muttering, "Jimin…my name is Jimin."

The man, who often looked like he could crush iron with his fist, and gaze destroy a city with a blink, he looked like a puppy in front of you. You smiled. Without even realizing what you were doing you reached up and ruffled his hair.

His eyes were so wide. You pulled your hand back and retreated with a blush on your face after you realized what you had done. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Quickly you sputtered out, "Sorry. Good night Jimin."

He wished you hadn't stopped. His tail was wagging a million miles per hour.

"Good night Y/n."

| Masterlist | Final

Copyright 2020 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved. 

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 2

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 3.3 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

“We’re all clear on the schedule, but I’ll repeat it for your sake,” you announced.

Your team was huddled around you, right outside the airport, with their luggage in their hands. You’d landed in Seoul less than an hour ago.

“So, right now, we’re going to take a cab to the hotel our company has booked us. We’ll rest, let our bodies recharge and adjust—because we left on Friday morning and reached Saturday morning in thirteen hours.” You grimaced. “Dunno about you, but my mind needs to adjust.”

You received collective groans of agreement in response.

“Great, you feel me. So we all do that first. And then we’ll collect in the lobby after lunch, at around 4 pm? I’ll have a word with BTS’ manager, and he’ll arrange for our commute. I’ll update you of the exact time, then. For now, let’s just go grab naps.”

You all hailed three taxis to the hotel, with Sana grabbing you by the elbow to make you sit with her. You did so, with a frown. She looked nervous. 

“Y/N!” she almost wailed as soon as you’d shut the door. 

The driver looked at her in alarm. You winced in embarrassment, and apologized in Korean. He started the car without a word.

“Sana, compose yourself. What is the matter with you?” you scolded the girl.

“Y/N, how am I gonna face him? I might freeze up at sight! And—and what if my brain starts to think up scenarios from… oh God, you won’t believe the kind of fanfiction-stuff I’ve read about him!”

Your ears started to warm up. You had some idea. It had been a while, sure, but you could still vividly remember the kind of fanfictions you yourself had indulged in—

Wait a second. This girl was gonna make you nervous, too!

“Okay, Sana, enough. It doesn’t matter how cute you find Yoongi, he’s our client. We’re gonna have to be formal with him. At all costs. We mess it up, we lose our jobs. You get that? So, think about your husband, try to be the professional woman he married, and for God's sake, stop making me overthink shit!”

Sana shut up, then, but her eyes still looked worried. "How do you do it, Y/N?"

You frowned. "How do I do what? I don't have a fucking crush on Yoongi!"

She gave a small laugh, looking slightly more at ease. "Exactly! How?"

You blinked, confused.

"I mean," she elaborated, "not just him. In general. How do you manage to not get dragged down by feelings and stuff?"

"I kinda had to." You snorted. "People are like leeches, Sana. You only stand a chance for a good, peaceful life if you avoid getting too close to them. Get caught up in feelings, get your soul sucked out of you. Get crushed under expectations, live the rest of your life trying to fulfil them. Die on the inside before your body perishes.” You shrugged. “A pretty horrid way to die, if you ask me.”

Sana gave a huff of laughter. “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

You froze. Sana probably said that rhetorically, but it still hit you hard enough.

It wasn’t the question of who hurt you, but actually, who you had hurt.

You shut your eyes for a few extended seconds, willing yourself to not think of the past. You succeeded for the most parts, too. But then Sana nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset…you…” She trailed off with a worried look on her face when you shot her a glare. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, turning to look out of the window. “I’m just done with my quota of personal-unnecessary-unneeded-interactions with people, for the day.”

You heard Sana sigh. Mentally, you sighed, too.

You all found the two vans a bit excessive. There were eight seats in one—there were seven of you. But Manager Woo insisted that the boys actually used three of these to commute, so even this was a bit miserly of the management.

Rich people problems. 

You shook your head with a small smile. “It’s all okay,” you said to the Manager in Korean, following his lead into the BigHit offices where you were to meet your clients for the first time, ever.

You chanced a discreet glance at Sana. Maybe your frustrated, shitty pep-talk in the taxi had actually worked, because she looked a lot more held together than she had ever since you dragged her onboards with this project.

“This way,” Manager Woo instructed you, gesturing towards a lift. “The security personnel will lead you to the second floor, and into the meeting room. I will join you in a while.”

You bowed and your team followed, and then you all stepped into the elevator that looked big enough to hold the meeting within itself. Two security guards, all suited up with a tie and fitted with earpieces in a stereotypical bodyguard look, followed you in.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together. “Guys,” you addressed your team in English. “You all have the detailed itinerary on your tabs, right?” At their nods, you pulled your own iPad out. “Good. Keep it on you when I talk about it with them.”

“Y/N,” Simon called out to you.

You looked at the fidgety guy with raised eyebrows.

“Are we gonna stick with the choices…” He trailed off when your eyes narrowed.

“We’ve spent more than seventy-two hours researching, Simon. Please stop with this.”

Simon gulped, but shut up. 

The elevators opened up, just then. One of the guards stepped out, and gestured towards the glass doors on the right. “That is the meeting room,” he said in Korean.

You all stepped out, elegantly, and you turned to bow to the two guards. “Thank you,” you said in Korean

They bowed in return, looking slightly flustered, and stepped back into the lift. You turned to face the meeting room, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled.

“Come on, guys. Showtime.”

You led your team as they walked behind you in pairs. Once you got to the doors, a guard stepped up from inside the room, and opened the doors for you.

A long meeting table sat in the centre of the room, with seven occupants on one of its sides. BigHit’s Founder and CEO sat at the head of the table, and the foot lay vacant—reserved for, you assumed, the Manager. Seven chairs also lay vacant for your team, opposite the BTS members.

As the door gave way, the CEO met your eyes. You gulped your nerves, and plastered a smile on your face. As you all crossed the threshold, the eight people seated on the table stood.

Dragging in a deep breath, you placed your tablet on the table before you faced them all. “Hello everyone,” you enunciated in Korean, and then bowed.

Your team followed your lead, and the people in the room bowed back. You kept your professional smile in place, discreetly wiping your sweating hand on the thigh of your cotton pants. Then you nodded at the CEO and he asked everyone to settle down.

“Welcome to Korea,” the CEO started. “Did you get here okay?”

“Besides the jet-lag, we’re actually very good,” you told the CEO to receive chuckles in response.

“Manager Woo will join us in a few seconds,” he then continued, looking between your team and the boys—that you were yet to properly look at—and gestured towards them. “Meanwhile, let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Bang Si-Hyuk, BigHit’s founder and CEO. Nice to meet you.”

You bowed, telling him your own name, and then shook hands with CEO Bang. Standing from your place, you finally willed your gaze to focus on the faces of the members instead of nervously looking into space.

Oh, wow. Cameras didn’t do these guys any justice, apparently. Not even the 8K ones, because they were really freaking beautiful human beings.

Dressed in lounge wear consisting mainly of extremely baggy hoodies as far as you could gauge, they still managed to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And their skin was glowing so bright, it looked unreal. But it was very much real because you were sitting across a three foot wide table from them, you could tell. It looked so soft.

You’d tightly held your lips up in a smile to save your mouth from dropping open.

While you were trying to get a grip on yourself, your eyes landed on a pair of brown ones framed by gorgeous lashes, right opposite to you. They were looking down. But then, they were looking up, as if sensing your gaze on them. Your professional grin involuntarily melted into a genuine one as Taehyung gave you a bashful nod of acknowledgement. You nodded back.

“Hello,” you mumbled, watching as his eyes grew wider. You blinked, releasing how private that sounded. You cleared your throat and ducked your head before looking at all of the seven guys in turn and nodding at each one of them. “Hello to you all,” you addressed them in Korean this time and told them your name. “And this is my team.” You gestured with both hands to your sides. “We’ll be your interviewers and companions for the next six months.”

A flurry of bows, nods and hellos passed over the table, followed by your teammates announcing their names. You doubted any of these would be retained, including your own. Which is why you handed over the seven identical copies of all your resumes to the CEO. “Here, Mister CEO. My boss had mailed them over to you, but these are to help the boys get acquainted with us better,” you told the man, and he gave you an appreciative seeming smile.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Namjoon suddenly said, smiling with dimples up at you from his place on Taehyung’s right. His black hair was ruffled and a circular framed pair of glasses rested on his eyes. “I’m RM,” he said in English, “but please call me Namjoon. It’s a pleasure meeting you and your team.”

You smiled wide, shaking his hand when he forwarded it. His skin felt super soft, just as you’d expected it to be by looking at it.

The rest of the boys followed suit, minus the handshaking. They all insisted you all call them by their real names, which felt almost funny to you, because you were gonna be unwinding their whole life. This felt so unnecessary.

Just then, the door opened and Manager Woo reappeared. He bowed his head in the CEO’s direction before taking a seat to your extreme left, at the foot of the table. “Hello, everyone,” he said, “did I miss anything?”

“Just the introductions,” Namjoon filled him in with a smile. 

Manager Woo nodded and then looked at you. “The next thing to talk about is the schedule your team has planned for us, so that we can sort out any doubts or disagreements that might be there.”

Nodding, you pulled up the itinerary on your iPad, and cleared your throat. “I have planned out a strategy of working on interviews, and then sitting back to compile everything in an orderly fashion,” you announced. “We’ll divide each one of the six months we have on our hands into two groups—three weeks of discussions, and one week of compilation. All seven of us would be working with one member each, one on one, continuously for a time span of three weeks. After that my team will sit together, compare notes and move forth with the actual writing part. Then we’ll check if something has been missed by someone and arrange for its cover up, before we move forward into the next set of three weeks.”

You turned to look at your team to see if any of them wished to add anything, but they nodded at you with discrete thumbs ups. You exhaled in relief.

CEO Bang nodded at Manager Woo, who hummed in response. “Sounds workable to me. Boys?” He gestured towards the band members.

You looked up to find seven pairs of round eyes and gawking mouths. 

Murmurs ran across the seven angels seated opposite you. While they were distracted, you took your sweet time looking at each one of their faces. They really did look unreal.

Next to CEO Bang, Jin and Yoongi were engrossed in some discussion. With their heads bent, their hair shined blindingly bright—Yoongi’s like liquid silver, and Jin’s like molten lead. Next to Jin, Namjoon was adjusting his glasses over his shut eyes as he listened to Taehyung whisper something in his ear, and kept shaking his head in response every few seconds. Taehyung was almost drowning in his oversized hoodie with the hood up, as he used his hands with those elegant ass fingers of his to cover his mouth while speaking into Namjoon’s ear. Next to him, Jimin was nodding along to Hoseok as the latter spoke in whispers, gesticulating widely. 

Your eyes fell onto the far end of the table, then. Jungkook, who was already looking at you, shot his hand up when your gazes met. His eyes were literally sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes?” you asked with a big smile.

Jungkook flashed his teeth at you, looking not a day over five years of age. “Is one week enough time to write?”

You frowned. “In theory, yes. But if things go south and we need more time, we can always extend the contract. Mr. CEO?”

“According to the clauses in the contracts, definitely.” CEO Bang nodded with a small smile. “The book has to be good. We can compromise with everything, except for the quality.”

You nodded in understanding. There was an extendable clause in your contract, but you had every intention to not have to employ it. Not only did your boss have huge expectations from you, but you yourself were determined to give this project your best. Better than your best. You’d wanted to manage a complete project by yourself for so long, this was your chance of a lifetime to shine.

Taehyung’s hand shot up, breaking you out of your thoughts. He looked beyond adorable with his eyes rounded and lips nervously folded in.

“Ye—yes?” you stuttered very unprofessionally and then covered up with a cough.

“Who works with who?” he said in a breath, confusing you for a moment. “Will you take chits out? Or ask us to choose?”

“Oh, no no.” You chuckled when you caught his drift. “We’ve already decided among ourselves and also done some homework. You’ll find your personal interviewers in your contract copies.”

“Did you decide by picking out chits?” Namjoon grinned at you, and you laughed.

It had been chits, but you weren't about to tell them that. “Something like that.” You shrugged, playfully, and giggles rolled over the table.

Manager Woo, then, launched into a set of instructions for the band members. CEO Bang kept adding details in the middle, and the band members just kept nodding along in a bored fashion. Maybe they’d been over this multiple times.

You sat back to relax, observing everyone as you listened to the set of rules and procedures you were already familiar with. You looked from the corner of your eye as Jimin elbowed Taehyung. 

“Did you want to work with someone in particular?” Jimin’s whisper into Taehyung’s ear floated over to you.

Taehyung’s eyes briefly met yours, nearly burning a hole through your head by the deep curiosity emanating from them. And then he ducked his head again, shrugging Jimin off of him. 

You swallowed, roughly. Oh, God.

Manager Woo wound up his instructions with a repetition of be as honest as you can be, and then called out to you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?”

You looked at your team. They shrugged. You shrugged, too. “You’ve covered it really well, Mister Manager. I’d actually like to emphasize one of your points—this is not an interview.” You looked across the table, at each of their faces, turn-wise. “There would be no cameras, no recorders, and no one monitoring your actions. Relax and be at ease. You should, in fact, think of the sessions as making new friends. You tell them about yourself, and they tell you about themselves. Only difference being, what you tell them will get compiled in a book so there must be a bit more of that.”

Your eyes met Taehyung’s and he nodded with a small laugh. The others gave you similar reactions, with Hoseok giving a two-fingered salute.

“That’s good. Also, Miss, we would like to request your team to work around the boys’ bodyguards.” Manager Woo looked at you earnestly.

“We’re really very grateful that you’ve agreed to our request for privacy and not enforced the sessions to be with the boys’ managers.” You shrugged a shoulder, and exchanged glances with Sana and Nathan. “And so, we would be okay working in the presence of the bodyguards, no issues.”

Your team hummed and nodded their own agreements. Manager Woo nodded back with a huge smile, looking relieved.

“We have the first interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” he then said as he distributed the individual contract copies among the BTS members and then your team. “Have a look at the details, one last time.”

You could, by this point, recite the clauses of the contract in your sleep. Yet, to be respectful, you accepted the file and placed it before yourself. You looked to your right and then left at your team. “Any questions, guys?”

Meryl raised her hand. Your eyebrows rose in intrigue. You gestured for her to speak up. “Yeah, um. About the secrecy clause—can we get a rough estimate as to when the news of the biography will be released?”

You nodded along. That was kind of a good question.

Manager Woo looked at CEO Bang, and all seven boys’ eyes adorably followed. CEO Bang readjusted his glasses. “We are planning a press conference at the end of six months.” Whoa. “I believe you’re going to have to keep this secret for the entirety of the project.”

You exhaled. It was gonna be kinda hard, but you’d manage. 

“I got you!” 

Your head snapped up at Jungkook’s shout of joy. He held the file in one hand and the other was raised up, mid-cheer. When all eyes fell on him, he froze for a moment before folding onto himself, bashfully. The boys all broke out laughing. You too had to stifle yours, by looking down in your lap, to maintain your professionality. 

When you looked up after a moment, your eyes met Taheyung’s again. He seemed to be slightly confused and kept looking between the file in his hand, you and Jungkook.

“Si… Simon?” he whispered with a heavy accent, but it was all you could hear despite the chaotic discussions happening all around you. 

You pointed at the guy sitting next to you. “Him,” you responded in English.

Taehyung’s eyes reverted back to you. “You?” he asked in English, very quietly.

You paused. “Jungkook,” you responded, gesturing to the still blushing boy with your eyes. And then, realizing how intimate your exchange was, you flashed him a professional smile. “Simon is great at conversation! You’ll have a good time with him,” you old him loudly, in Korean, earning smiles from the Manager and CEO.

Taehyung had still looked a bit lost when you tore your gaze away from him and picked up your tablet, but you willed yourself to unlock the gadget and not let your eyes stray.

This was just your first meeting, and Taehyung’s person’s intensity was already too much to handle. You thanked God you weren't gonna work with him one on one, or you won’t survive.

But, little did you know.

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[maplecornia]

chapter 25

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.19K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: idk about you, but i really like this chapter, i think it's super FLUFFY

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo

"You're an idiot."

"How was I supposed to know it was that high?! You're lucky I didn't drop your cake."

You smile, you can't help it. Spending the day with him wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. The time at the cafe was enjoyable, even when he decided it was a smart idea to try and climb on top of a wall, you found yourself content and happy.

It was definitely better than being alone.

"If you did, you wouldn't be standing." You mutter, trying to keep your voice smooth and calm. He lets out a soft gasp, turning to you in mock fear.

"You're scary."

"Maybe." You purse your lips, but can't keep the sly grin from spreading on your face.

When he asked you to spend time with him, you didn't imagine that it would be this fun. He took you to a cafe, and as soon as you started talking it was as though the two of you had known each other for years. Glancing over at him, you study his features just like you did the first time you saw him across the hall.

He's the type of person you feel comfortable with, someone you can rely on.

"You know what I just realized?" he says, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk. You turn to him, raising your brow.

"What?" You ponder when he doesn't finish his thought right away.

"We never introduced ourselves." You chuckle as he runs up to you before holding out his hand. Looking at it with a skeptical look, you hesitate before taking it.

"My name is Hwang Sunoh, it's a pleasure to meet you, madam."

You smirk, shaking your head at his overdramatized accent.

"I'm Yen Lin...well I suppose here you'd call it like, Lin Yen." You respond and can't help but smile at his giddy grin.

"It's nice to meet you."

Hwang Sunoh.

It's surprising how just yesterday, he was someone who had dampened your day. Now, he's able to bring a smile on your face without hardly lifting a finger. You can't help but feel a bit free. When you're around people like him, things just seem so easy. It's hard for you to remember that there was a time when you didn't feel this way.

It's hard for you to realize that the world can be cold.

Releasing him, you turn to start on your path home but freeze.

Your heart begins pounding, your palms turning cold as you notice the figure standing in front of your apartment complex. Shocked, you step back a bit, trying to make out his facial features, but his back is to you.

"It can't be..." You murmur under your breath.

There's no chance it can be him, can it?

Memories of the day on the bridge. The moments where he held your hand. That faint crinkle to the sides of his eyes when he smiled...The body is the same, the hair has the same curl, his jawline holds the same flawless curve.

Sunoh looks from you to the stranger with curiosity.

"Do you know him?" he questions, peering into your face, but you don't answer. You can't answer. Your throat has gone dry and you find that it's hard for you to breathe.

What if it is him? What would you do then?

You never thought you'd see him again, but what happens if he found you?

Swallowing hard, you walk forward, but the figure turns around and you balk, freezing once more.

It's not him, but someone else.

Someone even more surprising.

"Tae?"

Once he catches sight of you, he rushes forward, pocketing his phone.

But why? Why is he here?

As he draws closer, you can see that his eyes are locked on you, that he doesn't pay much attention to anything else. His eyes are full of worry, and his brow is furrowed with resolution. For a moment, you forget about Sunoh standing next to you, you forget about everything else. Once more, it's only you and him.

His feet pounding as he reaches a stop next to you, he takes you by the shoulders and lowers his face so that he's eye to eye with you. Eyes wide, you blink at him, forgetting to breathe for a moment.

"Are you okay?!" Confused, you don't answer him at first. Taking that as a bad sign, he begins to examine you, looking up and down for any injury, any scar, anything to show that you had been hurt in some way. Pressing his hand to your forehead to check for a fever, he growls a bit in frustration. "You weren't answering your phone, do you know how worried I was?!"

Taehyung?

Worried about you?

Someone tell me I'm dreaming.

Stunned, all you can do is look at him, unable to move an inch. Sunoh, extremely confused, looks between you and Taehyung, trying to piece two and two together. For one, why is an idol fussing over you as though you were a lost kitten? For another, how did you know a member from the most renowned and respected group in Korea?

Smiling a bit to himself, he can't help but chuckle.

Yen, you're more impressive than I thought.

That small sound catches Taehyung's attention.

As soon as he realizes the two of you have company, he pulls away, his grip tightening on you almost protectively. He turns to Sunoh, his brow furrowing with foreign hostility. At the reaction, Sunoh steps back a little, chuckling nervously.

"Ah...hello?" he mumbles, but all Tae does is raise his eyebrow, unamused.

"Who is this?" he asks you, and you finally wake up, turning to your new friend. Eyes wide, Sunoh looks to you as though you are the only one who can save him.

"Oh, he's my friend." You answer for him, edging a bit closer to him so that Taehyung doesn't attack. Nodding to him, he smiles nervously and holds out his hand once more, introducing himself.

"I'm Hwang Sunoh, nice to meet you."

Taehyung doesn't say a thing, doesn't even take his hand. He looks at it as though it were a thing he found in the trash and regards Sunoh with an icy glare. Apprehensive, Sunoh chuckles weakly, and pulls back from him, rubbing his neck.

"Uhm...Sunoh, why don't you go on ahead? I'll get my things later, okay?" You say, offering him an escape and he takes it gratefully. Stepping back a bit, he bows to Taehyung before making a break for the complex. You chuckle a bit at his frantic flee before turning back to Taehyung.

He's not really looking at you, his gaze distant and almost respondent. Confused, you squirm underneath the uncomfortable silence, wondering what exactly he needs. Why he's here. Biting your bottom lip, you try to catch his eye, but he avoids it.

"What was that about?"

At your voice, he looks up, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, you wonder if he's upset, and it makes you a bit frustrated. What is there to be upset about?

"Who is he?" he asks again, his voice deep and demanding. Biting the inside of your cheek in annoyance, you cross your arms. Just because he's having a bad day doesn't mean that he has to take it out on you.

"He's my neighbor..." Once you realize you're giving in to his tantrum, you shake your head. "Why does it matter? What's wrong?"

He looks at you with those eyes, causing you to lose your cool and almost squirm under his gaze. But you don't look away, what is there to be ashamed of? You didn't do anything wrong. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and brush past him.

If he's not going to say anything then there is no reason for you to stay.

Taehyung rolls his eyes at your stubbornness and grabs you by the arm, turning you around. You open your mouth, ready to say an angry retort, but with one fierce look, he shuts you up. Taking your hand, he pulls you behind him. You try to pull away, only managing to when he stops.

"Kim Taehyung, what the hell do you think you're doing?" You demand, but all he does is offer you a sideways glance before turning to the sunset.

"Look." He murmurs, and you narrow your eyes at him before obliging.

You let out a small gasp, finding it hard to breathe. How can you when met with beauty such as this? He smiles at your expression, his eyes tender and affectionate.

"I wanted to show you." He explains, even though he knows that you can hardly hear him.

He has taken you to the small overlook in front of your complex. It offers the two of you a beautiful scene of the sun setting on the Han River. It's almost as if the sea is swallowing it, melting it into a palette of oranges and reds almost as if it were the mere paints dripping from a canvas. Smiling, you step forward until you reach the bar that protects you from falling over the edge.

Turning to him, you regard him with curious eyes.

"You came here just to show me this?"

Blinking, he doesn't answer you at first. He doesn't know what to say. If he were to say the truth, that his mind was clouded and he needed to find a way to clear it. If he said that he wanted to see you because you were the only one who could free him from the voices that continue to tell him he's not enough. If he said that he came to remove you from his mind...

What would you do then? Would you still look at him the same? Or would he lose you all over again?

Clearing his throat, he tears his eyes away from you. Perhaps this way, it will be easier to lie.

"No, I came because I was worried." He mumbles. Noticing your confused expression, he sighs, running his hands through his wind-kept hair. "You weren't answering your phone."

For a moment, as the sun catches his face, you're distracted from the beauty nature has to offer you. Instead, you focus on him. A beauty that is impossible to describe in mere words. A beauty that is impossible to touch, impossible to keep, for fear that it would be lost as soon as you touched it. It's like the light. Though you may try to hold it in your fingertips, after a while, it slips away. It always slips away, it never stays.

He will never stay.

Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you turn away. It hurts too much. In some ways, this is worse than when he was a country away. When he didn't know you existed. At least then, you knew that you had no chance of losing yourself to someone you'll never meet. But now...

Now he's so close, but he feels so far away.

Will it always be this way?

Will you always have that impenetrable wall between the two of you?

Where he will always be the idol, and you will always be the fan?

In the distance, you can spy the same bridge that you met him on. The same bridge where your world was changed. Turning to the man beside you now, you entertain the thought that he's the real man in the mask. Smiling at the notion, you chastise yourself. It can't be him.

After all, the universe can't be that kind.

"Taehyung?" you murmur, hoping he doesn't catch the thickness in your voice, or the lump threatening to break.

"Hm?" he responds absentmindedly, and you close your eyes at the sound of his voice behind you. If you wish hard enough, will the two of you be able to stand side by side as equals?

Or will he forever be that far?

"Why did you give me your number?"

The question catches him off guard, and he opens his eyes, turning to look at you. Though your back is to him, it's wracked with tension and unspoken words. Almost as though you were preparing to be let down.

Again.

He bites his bottom lip, trying to choose the best words to say to you. When he notices the way you clench and unclench your hands at the sound of silence, he smiles softly before stepping forward.

Standing close, mere inches away from you, he takes your hand gently in his fingertips. Before you have a chance to pull away, he brushes his lips lightly across your knuckles. Speechless, you find your heart constricting with unimaginable longing.

After a moment, he raises his eyes to yours, his lips still pressed against your skin. A sultry look, you find your breath shortening, your heartbeat fluttering an unheard tune. He smiles at your wide, innocent eyes before lowering your hand and using his to brush back your hair.

"Well, we're friends. Aren't we?" he responds, his hand resting on your cheek for a moment before he releases you and steps away.

Always a considerable distance apart.

From the moon and the star.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: you know even though love alarm was the worst thing since tomatoes, i still couldn't help putting the characters in the story ;-;

chapter 26 here

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[serenadeonacanoe]

Waiting for something. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character 

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, too tired to beta

Summary: 

Me: [12:24 AM] Soo... is this actually Namjoon then? Namjoon: [12:39 AM] It is. Me: [12:41 AM] I think I need proof. [...] Me: [12:51 AM] Okay, I am convinced. Namjoon: [12:52 AM] And how do I know this is Olivia? [...] Namjoon: [1:02 AM] Alright, yeah. I think that is the girl RM apparently not so low-key flirted with a few weeks back. Ollie hadn't planned to have her music show blow up when Namjoon jokingly flirts with her at a red carpet event, how could she? But now the footage is out there and yesyesyes all very funny... but wait... why are they still texting?

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CHAPTER 1

The truth was that there was something a bit gross about red carpet coverage. Yes, it was exciting and nervewracking in a good way, sometimes actually interesting conversations were held and most of the time - with the help of a little editing of course - the result was worth it. But there was also just a lot of waiting. Standing around. Constant screams around you. A. lot. of. fake. laughter. And that made sense in a way, who could keep their energy up for so long... well not me. Between interviews, I would just drop my shoulders, trying to relax my shoulders a little, just to cheer up again moments later, when I suddenly had another chance. Minutes of fast speaking, cheeriness and ... well, sometimes, yes, fake laughter would follow and then back to dreaming you could please take a nap on the sidewalk behind you.

"Cheer up! You forgot that you love this!" Nick, my cameraman murmured, his head still hidden from my view behind the camera on his shoulder. Still, I looked in his direction, my mouth fell open for a second. Jesus, he was right. Why was I complaining... when had I gotten used to all this spectacle to a point that I forgot that I was so very lucky. I was doing what I loved, just as much as the people I interviewed. How many people studying journalism and obsessed with music would actually end up where I now was. My own music show for a year now. Okay, online, not regularly on TV, but still financed by a network. But this was the 21st century and streaming numbers were probably more important to some than their own grandmother's life, yeah... I should have been more grateful. And while I stared at Nick, I could see a grin in the corner of his mouth, even though most of it was hidden. And then I grinned as well and interviewed Harry Styles. You know, casual Friday, some might say...

Somehow Nicks comment had saved my night. I forgot about the fact that I was tired, or that I had promised my mother three days ago that I would call and had never gotten around to it. Or that my ex-boyfriend was currently at the Great Barrier Reef with the girl he had told me nothing was going on with while we had been dating. It was me and people passioned about the art they were making, which hyped me enough to actually feel like I was doing a pretty good job of asking the right questions at the right time.

And still, Nick just hissed a hasty "Step it up!" at me when he realized that we had a pretty good chance at interviewing BTS next, even before I realized that they had gotten so close. I had definitely realized they were here somewhere, the screams had gotten so loud when they had stepped out of their car. But - bam! - suddenly a stern-looking woman pointed towards me and seconds later they were standing in front of our camera. Matching suits, polite smiles, super professional and me just in awe. Some clever editor would later play it up, as if I had actually gone into stand by mode, inspired by the fact that I turned around to the camera the next second and pretended I had lost my shit, before snapping out of it moments later, turning around again. "Oh my God. It's BTS, how are you guys?" They were professionals, but so was I.

I got two questions in before the woman tried to rush them away from me, but I pretended to not hear her and got one more question out there before we said our good-byes. Jimin waved at me like a toddler and for some reason, it made me "dawww". He didn't hear, but Namjoon, the last to move over to the next interview, did, turned around again and chuckled, before winking at me. I blinked. And then they were gone.

"Did Namjoon just low-key flirt with me?" I asked Nick, who was still recording me. "You wish..." he said, which made me laugh, and I nodded slightly, eyes closed as if to say "Guess so". Nick stopped recording and I dropped my shoulders again. Man, who was I to complain about fake laughing when I could go from quirky-hyper-music journalist-me to energy-saving mode in about five seconds? Checking my phone I realized it was time. I had to head inside, otherwise, there was no way I would make it backstage before stuff got really really hectic there.

The award show was alright. We didn't actually do any interviews backstage, the truth was that these things we so incredibly organized that there was no time to waste on the sidelines, no time for a chat unless it was pre-planned. This was all to show how much fun I was having, probably to be edited into a montage or something. And I mean... I was having fun... but then again it just sometimes felt a bit goofy, jumping around, clapping for people when they came off stage as if we were friends. After a while Nick and I had found a good spot where we weren't in anyone's way, could see the side of the stage and still had a monitor close to us that was showing us what the audience on tv saw. I finally relaxed a little after Nick had decided that he had enough material. He had set the camera down, and we were having a beer while watching the rest of the show.

It was towards the end of the show when the evening's hostess was giving a little speech about how much fun the event had been, followed by a montage of scenes from different celebrities getting ready to the red carpet. Nick said something about the fact that the turn around time for the clips was pretty fast, considering that some of this had happened only two hours before and I just made a "mmhh" sound to answer him when I was really checking my phone. Moments later he had kicked my shoe with his and I looked up confused. For a second I thought he was upset because I had not given him proper attention, but he gestured towards the screen and for a good reason. Because I was on there. Seemed like the behind-the-scene camera people had been standing right behind Nick when I had interviewed BTS. They showed my little "OHMYGAWD, IT'S BTS" moment and I had to smile, then there was a hard cut and next thing I saw was the whole "Did Namjoon just flirt with me?"-moment, just from a different angle. And with the knowledge that the whole audience inside the hall saw the same thing as well. I could hear the laughter and then while there was some sad applause, the live camera was in front of BTS, zooming in on RM... who was still looking up at a screen and seemed a bit overwhelmed, before acting all nonchalant about it towards the camera. The other boys were laughing their asses off, Hobi looked as if he was about to fall off his seat. Namjoon played the coolness up, even more, nodded into the camera, holding a hand up to his face, mouthing a "call me", before looking a bit uncomfortable the next second, maybe because he couldn't believe himself that he had just done that. And then they cut back to the hostess and I only realized that I had moved my hand in front of my mouth when I turned to Nick. He had laughed through the whole thing as well.

Okay. So, nothing about this whole bit had been particularly clever or as funny as everyone was making it out to be. Award show humor. What was funny was that everyone had seen my childish comment. Including the person, it had been about. It was harmless after all and so now I started laughing as well and I didn't stop for a good while. Yeah, I was a bit embarrassed. But at least they had made me look more relatable than desperate and Namjoon had taken the joke well.

When I got to my hotel room - several glasses of sparkling wine later - I realized my best friend, back home in New York, had texted me.

Lauren: [12:13 AM] So who is the new boyfriend? Me: [12:42 AM] If everyone who ever winked at me once was my boyfriend... Lauren: [12:47 AM] You'd still be single! ha!

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