#Jimin slow burn?

[lascvitae]

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ LIKE A FEVER

♯┆ you’re the coach’s daughter & karina is the skater who falls for you anyway. you were never hers to keep, but she loves you.

pairing. ice skater!karina x coach’s daughter!reader genre. friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending (thank faith bc yall almost didn’t get it), slow burn (kinda), mutual pining, forbidden love warning(s). cursing, cheating, kissing (making out), reader is in a failing relationship, this is a yearnfest man, coach is mean af, brief argument, suppressed emotions (karina my shayla 😔)

word count: 11k (this seems to be my limit chat)

“the more i hurt, the more i want you.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: guysss when i tell you i sobbed while writing this like three times... (is an easy crier) but thanks for 600!!! (also i made a spotify playlist if you would like to listen while you read)

masterlist.

three weeks before regionals. 

the rink is quiet this late at night.

you never even really plan to check on her. not really. you just happen to walk by the glass doors on most nights. most of the lights are off except for the spotlights above the center, casting shadows over the ice.

and there she was.

karina. 

she was alone. as always.

the two of you weren’t very close, but you had conversations here and there. she was the type of person that focused on her passion more than anything else. it was admirable, really. 

her movements were so sharp and precise. she was so clean it looked effortless. but you knew better. you knew the amount of hours she’s poured into every jump and every spin. you’ve heard the way your dad talks about her. 

“she’s got the skill. but i need her to stop feeling so much.” he said once. 

but you like it. the way she skates like there’s something breaking inside of her. that’s where the real beauty is.

you don’t reveal yourself at first. you just stand by the edge of the rink and pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. the cold seeped in fast but you didn’t mind. not when you were watching her.

karina doesn’t notice you. or maybe she does and chooses not to look. she was always like that, distant but aware.

you wait until she finishes her routine, skates slowing to a stop in the center of the rink. she bends at the waist, catching her breath with hands on her knees.

that’s when you call out in a soft voice. 

“your landing on the last combo was perfect.”

she was startled, head whipping toward the sound with wide eyes. her mouth parted like she was gonna say something, but then she just straightens and skates toward you quietly.

“i didn’t know anyone was here.” she says.

you hold up the water bottle in your hand. “i didn’t think you would still be here. but… i figured you forgot to bring this. again.”

she slows to a stop right in front of you, carving tiny shapes in the ice with her blades. you hand her the water bottle, fingertips brushing yours for a second.

“you always bring me water.” she mumbled.

“you never ask me not to.”

karina looks at you. there’s a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. she stares quietly, face never leaving yours.

“i guess i like when you worry about me.” she says after a moment. and then she smiles.

you don’t say anything back. you can’t.

you end up sitting beside her on the bench near the edge of the rink. she unlaced her skates slowly, water bottle sitting between you.

“i didn’t mean to interrupt. you looked… kinda lost in it.” you say after a while.

karina glances up at you and tugs one skate off with a small grunt. “i always get like that when i’m alone. it’s easier to pretend that no one’s watching.”

“but someone always is.”

she freezes for a second and then her lips curl into a smile, an almost amused one. “yeah. like you.”

i’m not— i didn’t mean—”

“i don’t mind. i like when it’s you.” she cut in while shrugging.

you don’t know what to say to that, so you pretend to focus on something else. her shoulder was just barely brushing yours.

karina sighs. “coach is gonna kill me for staying this late.”

“he doesn’t have to know.” you laughed.

“is that the coach’s daughter helping me break the rules?” she turns to you with one brow raised.

“i won’t tell if you don’t.” you reply. 

then there’s a pause. a long one.

then she speaks. “you’re always here.”

“so are you.”

“i have to be.”

“you don’t. not at this hour.” you argue.

karina looks down at her hands. “he says that i need more reps on my loop. and i can’t land it clean if i don’t fix my axis. so…”

she doesn’t finish the sentence. and you feel as if she doesn’t need to.

the silence returns. then, you carefully pull a pair of hand warmers out of your coat pocket.

you hold them out without saying a word.

“you… brought these?”

“i figured you would forget those too.”

she doesn’t take them right away. she stares at them then back at you. and when she finally reaches out, her fingers brush yours again. except slower this time.

“thanks. for thinking of me.” she says softly. 

“someone has to.” you shrug, trying to play it off.

she gives you a quiet laugh. then she leans back on the bench, shoulder still pressed to yours with her hand warmers resting in her lap.

neither of you say much after that.

the silence is comfortable. she hasn’t moved for a while now. her legs were stretched out and her fingers were curled around the hand warmers you gave her. you think maybe she’s falling asleep sitting up. or just enjoying your presence. 

either way, you don’t say anything. 

but then your phone buzzes.

twice. three times.

karina jumps before you even check it, like the sound snapped something inside of her. she doesn’t say anything, but her body moves away from yours. 

you glance down. a name lights up your screen.

your boyfriend.

you forgot he said that he would call. you forgot about him entirely for a second. 

that realization makes your stomach turn.

“sorry. didn’t mean to—“ you mumble, silencing it.

“it’s fine.” she was back to the cold version of her you know from practice days.

she stands before you can stop her, pulling her skates back on. the laces are uneven and she doesn’t even fix them.

“you don’t have to go.” you say stupidly, as if it’ll make her stay.

but she’s already halfway to the ice again.

“i should run the routine again. i’m still shaky on the loop.” she calls out from over her shoulder.

you stay on the bench and watch as she glides back toward the center of the rink, phone buzzing again in your hand. the music doesn’t play. she doesn’t need it.

she jumps before she’s ready. the landing is clean but you can tell.

she wasn’t skating to practice.  she was skating to forget you.

───────────────────────

the next day, somehow the rink feels colder.

maybe it’s the hour. or the way that karina doesn’t look at you when you walk in with your father. or it’s the silence that feels too heavy in between your steps.

she’s already on the ice when you arrive, pacing through her warm up jumps with clean movements. it was like last night never happened.

you sit off to the side as your dad steps onto the ice with his clipboard in hand. 

“all right. start from the top. don’t drop your left arm on the entry again.” he calls, already stern. karina doesn’t reply. just nods once, jaw set. she adjusts her gloves and glides into position without a word.

the music starts.

you watch as she moves like she’s made for this. every jump makes her look as if she’s gliding. she doesn’t miss a beat.

but you see it. the way her chest rises too fast in between movements and the way way she hides the pain in her arm.

your father doesn’t.

“again. you were two seconds late on the last transition. don’t let the emotion get ahead of your technique.” he says the moment the final note fades.

she doesn’t argue. she just bows her head and skates back to the start.

you don’t say anything.

another run through. another correction. another sentence with barely contained frustration in your father’s voice as karina pushes herself harder, and faster. her blade slipped slightly on a landing and she hits the ice with a thud.

you flinch. but he doesn’t move.

“get up. you’re fine.” he says calmly.

karina pushes herself up slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. she doesn’t look at him or at you. you can see her hands shaking.

“i understand.” she says softly. and then she says it again in a quieter tone.  “i understand.”

and she tries again.

it breaks something in you.

she finishes the third run perfectly. doesn’t collapse this time, but her breaths are harsh now. your dad claps his hands together once.

“better. you can take a break.”

he walks off the ice like it’s another day, already reaching for his phone. the door slams behind him.

only then karina sits down, curling slightly forward with her gloves gripping her knees. you don’t even realize you’ve moved until you’re walking down the bleachers and stepping quietly onto the mats just off the ice.

“i’ve been here the whole time.” you say.

her head snaps up.

“i saw all of it. how hard you’re trying.” you continue.

karina doesn’t say anything at first. just looks at you with her eyes wide.

then she whispers. “did it look like i was good enough?”

you walk closer and kneel next to her.

“it looked like you were breaking yourself to be.”

she wasn’t used to being seen like this.

“i don’t want you to skate like that. like you’re trying to prove something to him.” you mumble.

“i’m not.” she lies.

you don’t say anything for a moment. just reach into your bag quietly and pull out the same bottle you brought yesterday. it’s refilled and a little colder this time.

you hold it out to her without saying a word.

she stares at it like it’s a peace offering from another being.

“you need to hydrate. even perfectionists have to drink water.” you say softly with a small shrug. 

karina laughs breathily. her fingers graze against yours as she takes it and she doesn’t let go right away.

“i’m not perfect.” she mumbles.

“you kind of are.” you reply before you can stop yourself.

she looks at you, then down at the bottle in her hands. then back up.

you don’t have to be perfect all the time. not around me, at least.

is what you wanted to say. but instead you just stay silent.

karina swallows like she’s trying not to say anything.

“hey. i brought this.” you say in a slightly playful tone. 

her eyes flicker to it and her lips twitch barely. you catch it.

“you brought snacks?”

“maybe.”

“i love chocolate.” karina mumbles as she takes it slowly and unwraps it with careful fingers. she breaks it in half and holds one piece out to you.

your chest squeezes.

you take it.

she eats her half like it’s one of the first real things she’s had in hours.

“thanks. for not leaving.” she says finally. 

“i wouldn’t.”

“i know. i think i needed someone to stay anyway.” she glances down at the bottle. 

“then i’ll stay.” you nod.

and you do.

you sit side by side on the cold bench. karina’s finished the chocolate, skates finally unlaced and resting beside her. her legs are pulled up onto the bench as if she’s disappearing into her hoodie.

her phone buzzes once between you.

“my ride’s late.” she mutters, her thumb tapping the screen before she sets it face down.

you nod with your hands in your jacket pockets. “i can wait with you.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i want to.”

karina doesn’t argue. she just looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

for a while, it’s quiet again.

“you were always watching me.”

you look over at her with a startled expression. “what?”

she smiles a little. “yesterday. at practice. today too. i can feel it.”

you look away. “you’re kinda hard to miss.”

“i noticed you before that.” she says. almost too quietly.

your heart skips a beat. 

she leans against the bench with her head tilted up. “you came to one of my meets last year. sat way in the back and didn’t talk to anyone.”

you froze.

“i didn’t think you saw me.” you admit.

“i always see you.” she says and the words land with a softness that makes your heart race.

you open your mouth, searching for something to say.

“my dad expects a lot from you.”

she just stays quiet.

“the way you don’t fight back. it’s the same way i used to be.”

“do you ever wish you could quit?” you ask.

karina turns her head, looking at you. “every day.”

you look down at your hands. “but you don’t.”

“no. because i still love it. even when it hurts.”

you nod quietly.

“does anyone know you feel like that?” you ask.

she shakes her head. “no. i don’t tell them.”

“but i tell let you.”

it comes out as a whisper. you’re too surprised to say anything.

then the sound of a car pulling into the lot breaks the moment.

karina doesn’t move right away, she just watches you like she’s still thinking about saying something else. but she doesn’t.

she stands, slowly grabbing her things.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” she says. 

“yeah. tomorrow.”

and as she walks away, you feel that feeling in your chest. the feeling of someone slipping through your fingers even while they promise they’ll stay.

───────────────────────

it’s past nine the next day when you find her again.

the rink is empty and the lights are dimmed to half their usual level. her bag is forgotten on the bench and there’s a single light glowing from her phone screen. it was probably another missed call or her ride running late again. 

she was alone in the center. there was no music this time, just her blades breaking the silence.

you don’t call out.

you sit on the same bench as before and unzip your jacket. you pull out a small paper bag and inside is a chocolate croissant you picked up earlier. 

she doesn’t notice you until she slows down. she does one last spin and then she slides to the edge of the rink, brushing the hair from her face. that’s when she sees you. 

her eyes widen and her chest heaves from the effort.

“you came back.” she said breathlessly. 

“you’re not hard to find.” you tease gently. 

karina steps off the ice carefully, taking off her gloves as she comes over. her cheeks are pink from the cold.

“what is it this time?”

“guess.”

she sits next to you again, closer than before. your knees almost touch.

she peeks into the bag and smiles slightly.

“you remembered i like chocolate.”

“i remember everything.” you say before you can stop yourself.

she looks at you and there’s something soft in her expression. maybe grateful or just stunned.

she slowly takes a bite and you watch her shoulders relax with the first chew.

neither of you one talk for a bit.

“you don’t owe me this, you know. the snacks, waiting, or the way you look at me.” she mumbled. 

“i’m not doing it because i owe you anything.” you shrug. 

“then why?”

“because i want you to feel like someone’s always there for you. no matter what.”

karina looks down at the half eaten pastry in her hands with an unreadable expression. no one’s ever done that for her, you realize.

just stayed. showed up. believed in her even when she wasn’t performing.

she swallows hard.

“thank you.” she whispers.

you could tell her it’s nothing. that’s it’s easy. that you would do it a hundred times over.

but you don’t.

she leans just a little closer this time and her shoulder almost brushes yours. you pretend not to notice.

she was slowly letting you in. it was pieces of her that she hopes you’ll handle carefully.

and you will. every time. 

───────────────────────

the next day, you return to the rink again.

you were going to give her space but something in your chest pulled you back.

when you walk inside, karina’s already on the ice.

alone again. no music or audience.

you don’t even have a chance to say anything before it happens.

she goes into a spin too fast, and the blade of her skate catches wrong.

you hear the crack of impact before you see it.

karina hits the ice hard.

you froze with your breath caught in your throat.

she doesn’t get up right away. she just lies there, chest rising and falling.

then she slowly pushes herself to sit.

and you see it.

it wasn’t pain.

it was frustration.

she rips off one of her gloves and throws it to the side. her other hand slams against the ice. the sound echoes like a gunshot in the empty rink. 

“stupid, i’m so stupid. why can’t i just—“ she mutters before choking on the words. her other glove comes off and her hands clench into fists.

you’re moving before you can think. sliding open the door to the rink and stepping out toward her.

“karina.”

she tensed.

you see the way her back straightens and her breathing stalls. she turns her head with wide eyes, like she didn’t know that anyone was watching.

you kneel beside her carefully.

she doesn’t look at you.

“i’m fine. i was doing fine. i’ve done this a hundred times.” she says quietly.

“i know.”

“i can’t afford to mess up right now. not when regionals are in three weeks. not when— not when everyone’s already waiting for me to fall.” her voice cracks. 

your heart twists.

“i’m not.” you respond. 

she finally looks at you.

this time, you see it all. the exhaustion just behind her eyes.

“i’m not waiting for you to fall. but i’ll be here to catch you if you do.” you say without thinking. 

something breaks in her expression.

“i hate crying.” she says. 

“you’re not.”

“it feels like i am.”

you pull down the sleeve of your jacket down and gently press the fabric to her cheek, wiping away a tear.

“you’re allowed to be human, karina.”

she closes her eyes.

and for the first time, she leans into your hand. not all the way, but enough to let you know she’s tired of being strong alone.

she doesn’t say anything for a bit after you wipe her tear.

she just sits there with her fists clenched and jaw tight.

but then she shifts, and you know she’s trying to get up.

you offer your hand without saying anything.

she hesitates.

for a second, you think she might not take it.

but then almost reluctantly, her fingers slip into yours.

her hand is cold and her grip is too gentle for someone who just punched the ice a minute ago.

you pull her to her feet and settle her when she wobbles.

she doesn’t let go right away. and neither do you.

you’re closer than you’ve ever been. her face is still flushed from skating and her lips part just slightly when she looks at you.

“thank you.” she whispers.

you almost respond, saying something too honest, but that’s when your phone buzzes. 

you both look down at the same time.

it’s your boyfriend.

you freeze. and karina notices.

she drops your hand before you can even react and steps back like she wasn’t just unraveling in your arms seconds ago.

“i should… i should get back to it.” she mutters, brushing her hands off on her

“karina—”

“it’s fine. you should take that.” her voice returns back to neutral. it’s not angry, but it’s distant. 

you glance down at your phone again. 

when you look up, karina’s already lacing her gloves back on.

you don’t stop her.

and somehow, that hurts more than the distance that she just put between you.

because now you know what it looks like when she almost lets someone in. 

and what it feels like when she slams the door shut just as fast.

───────────────────────

the rink is even colder tonight.

you’re not here just to watch this time. you’re here because you couldn’t stay away.

karina hasn’t looked at you once since yesterday.

you came in quietly, settling into the middle row with a blanket around your shoulders and a box of fruits in your lap. you didn’t expect her to notice you.

but you still hoped.

she steps onto the ice like nothing ever happened.

she’s different today. you can see it.

she’s trying harder. like she’s trying to prove something.

you watch her routine in silence. it’s the same one she’s been perfecting for weeks. there’s no music, but you know it by heart now. you could probably hum the entire song if she asked.

she doesn’t fall this time.

but her landing is shaky and her spin is off center. her arms falter for half a second in the last sequence.

she finishes with what would be flawless from anyone else’s eyes.

but when she stops and lets out a heavy exhale, you can tell she’s not satisfied.

you wait until she comes off the ice and tug her sweatshirt back over her training top.

then you call out.

“that was beautiful.”

karina looks up so fast you wonder if she ever knew that you were here.

you hold up the water bottle and the fruits you packed earlier. strawberry and banana slices with two small chocolates tucked into the corner.

she walks over slowly. almost cautiously.

“i didn’t know that you were coming.”

“didn’t want to miss your performance.” you shrug. 

she sits next to you on the bleachers. you hand her the box and she takes it wordlessly, taking the top off of the container. 

“you’re really good, karina.” you say softly. maybe a little too soft.

 “like... i don’t even know anything about skating but i can feel it when i watch you. that’s gotta mean something.”

karina froze mid bite.

you glance at her but she’s not looking at you. just staring down at her fruits.

“…what?” you ask.

“no one’s ever said that to me. not like that.”

“really? you’re one of the best.”

“your dad is always too focused on what needs to be fixed. where my lines are off and where i’m not centered. he says praise makes you soft.”

you feel something in your chest. then you nudge her with your shoulder. 

“then i’ll do it for him.”

that makes her look at you. her eyes are slightly wide and her expression is unreadable.

you smile. “i’ll be your fan. i’ll even be loud and annoying. if you want me to.”

karina looks away but you still catch the shade of red rising to her cheeks.

“you’d be my audience?”

“i am your audience. right now. front now.” you say. 

she hides her laugh behind a sip of water. then she asks.

“will you stay if i go again?”

you nod without a second thought. 

you stay in the same seat while she steps back onto the ice and it looks like her entire body is lighter. you didn’t know it was because of your praise. 

when she begins again you catch her stealing a glance at you during the first spin.

then she does it again during the glide.

you wave.

and she almost stumbles from smiling too hard.

karina finishes her routine again and this time, she nails it.

everything was flawless.

when she comes to a stop in front of you, she doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you like she’s searching for something in your expression.

you don’t hold back.

“that was perfect.”

“you think so?”

“i know so. you were scary good. i got chills.” you hug the blanket tighter around your shoulders. 

karina lets out a soft laugh and looks away, but she’s smiling. her shoulders lower like she’s allowing herself to feel proud for once.

she walks over to the edge of the rink and sits beside you again. this time she sits closer. her thigh brushes against yours and neither of you move away.

you offer her a chocolate from the snack box. she takes it.

“i’m serious. you skate like your entire heart is in it.” you say. 

her smile fades, but not in a bad way. it turns into something softer. 

“it is.”

you look at her. you’ve never seen someone work so hard for something that almost no one praises them for.

“you should be proud of yourself, karina.”

she doesn’t respond right away. she just eats the chocolate in silence.

maybe you lean a little closer than you should.

maybe she does too.

because you feel something change again.

she turns her head to look at you.

and the way she’s looking makes your stomach do a thing.

like she’s never had someone talk to her like this.

like no one’s ever stayed.

“i like it when you’re here. i skate better.” she says suddenly.

you smile and your heart does a weird skip. “then i’ll keep coming.”

karina’s eyes flick down to your mouth for a second too long.

and then, you see it happen. the moment she remembers.

your boyfriend.

your father.

everything that makes this too complicated.

she pulls away slightly. but it’s enough for you to notice.

you don’t know what you did wrong, but she’s straightening her spine again. putting space between you.

“you should probably head out soon. it’s getting late.” she says. her voice was too polite for you to like it. 

“karina—”

“your dad doesn’t like when you stay late, right?”

you pause, reading her face.

it’s completely changed. her composure. she’s still distant. 

the softness is still there, but it’s tucked away. 

still, you try.

“i don’t mind staying.”

she stands up anyway, avoiding your eyes.

“i’ll lock up after i’m done.”

then she’s skating away again.

but as she gets back into position, her gaze flicks to you. just once.

like maybe she wished you would stop her.

but you don’t.

not this time. 

───────────────────────

the next night, you show up again.

you don’t say anything. 

you just walk in with your tumbler of hot chocolate, blanket folded over your arm. 

karina’s already skating when you get there and her movements are sharp but you can tell that she’s tired. her routine looks less precise, like her mind is somewhere else.

you settle into your now usual seat and wait, wrapping yourself in the blanket. you don’t cheer or wave this time. you just watch.

when she finishes the routine and finally notices you, she doesn’t look surprised.

she just comes to a stop and lets her hands rest on her hips while panting softly.

“hey.” you say. 

she skates over slowly.

she doesn’t sit next to you this time. just leans against the railing while looking down at her skates.

“you didn’t have to come again.”

“i wanted to.”

karina doesn’t reply.

you hold out the tumbler. “it’s hot chocolate.”

she glances at it then at you. then, she reluctantly takes it. 

you watch her sip it slowly.

“you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.”

karina’s shoulders tense.

but she doesn’t look at you. she just stares at the ice, jaw tight.

“it’s easier this ways.” she says after a long pause. 

you’re caught off guard by the honesty. “easier?”

“no one expects anything from me when i’m alone.”

there’s something about the way she says it. like she’s told herself that a thousand times before.

you want to reach for her. but you don’t.

“i expect something from you.”

she looks at you. almost defensively. but your gaze is soft.

“i expect you to take care of yourself. to eat. to rest. to let people care about you.”

karina swallows.

you think she might say something, but instead she just looks down. 

“you have a boyfriend.”

your stomach twists and you look down at your hands.

“i know.”

“you’re the coach’s daughter.”

“i know that too.”

silence stretches between you. and then she whispers.

“i can’t let myself like you.”

it’s the closest thing to a confession she’s ever given you. and you’re afraid that it’s the closest that she ever will. 

your heart breaks in two.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t even know if you’re allowed to say anything at all.

so you just sit there with your fingers trembling inside the blanket.

she takes one last sip of the hot chocolate then hands the tumbler back to you, fingers brushing yours like she doesn’t mean to. but maybe she does.

then she skates away again.

the sound of your heartbeat is louder than her blades cutting across the ice.

“karina.” you call out, voice echoing through the empty rink.

she doesn’t stop.

you stand up. “karina, wait—”

she’s still skating. even faster now.

it stings. the way she shuts down, like she’s trying to outskate the things you make her feel.

so you raise your voice.

“why do you keep doing this?”

that makes her stop abruptly. her skates carve into the ice, and send up a sharp spray of frost. she turns to you with an unreadable expression. 

“doing what?”

“this.” you gesture between you both. “one second you let me in and the next you’re skating away like you hate me.”

she exhaled hard, looking away. “i’m not doing anything.”

“yes you are. you talk to me, open up, and then remember i’m someone you shouldn’t like and you shut down again. every single time.”

karina’s jaw clenches.

you step closer. “i’m not trying to confuse you. i just want to be there for you. and i thought… i thought maybe you wanted that too.”

“i do. god, i do. but what do you want me to with that? you have a boyfriend and your dad hates me. this isn’t about just skating anymore.” she says, voice cracking slightly.

you pause.

“i never said it was about just skating.”

karina looks at you. her expression softens but you can see something else in her eyes. 

she shakes her head, scoffing slightly. “you don’t get it.”

“then make me get it.”

“i can’t! because if i say it out loud then it’s real, and if it’s real then i’ll want something that i can’t have.” she nearly yells, voice echoing off the walls.

the silence that follows is so loud that it hurts.

she blinks fast like she didn’t mean to say that.

and you just stand there, stunned.

“karina…”

her name comes out softer now. 

she looks down at her skates, biting her lip.

“i think you should go.”

your throat tightens. “do you really want me to?”

karina closes her eyes.

“no.”

but she turns away anyway.

and this time, you just let her skate.

because now you know. she’s not pushing you away because she doesn’t care. 

she’s pushing you away because she does.

��──────────────────────

the rink feels colder again.

it’s not the weather. it’s the emptiness.

karina gets there late, hoodie pulled tight over her head with her headphones in. her water bottle is half full.

but when she steps onto the ice, the first thing she does is look at the stands.

you’re not there.

she pretends that it doesn’t bother her. pretends that she doesn’t notice.

she warms up and does her stretches, then she goes through the footwork section of her routine easily.

but when it’s time to start the real run through, she hesitates.

you’re still not there. 

there’s no voice cheering her on softly. 

no tumbler clutched in your hands.

no little smile whenever she glances over her shoulder.

she tries to push through it, starts the routine anyway. but halfway through the first turn, she tumbles. her balance slips and her hand scrapes the ice hard, making her curse under her breath.

she gets up and starts again.

falls again.

but it’s worse this time.

she sits on the ice for longer, breathing heavily. her eyes are unfocused and for the first time in weeks, she feels it creeping back in. that voice in her head that tells her she’s not enough. that she’ll never be enough.

she presses the tip of her palm against her forehead.

she doesn’t cry. but she’s close.

and then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone.

your name is right there, but she doesn’t call.

she just stares at the screen for a long, long time.

her thumb was hovering over the call button. 

just one tap. but she doesn’t do it. she locks the phone, puts it back into her pocket and stands up.

this time, she doesn’t try the routine again.

she just skates in slow, aimless circles.

alone.

two weeks before regionals. 

it’s been a week.

seven days.

karina counted them all. skated through every single one one of them like it meant nothing, but it did. she just got better at pretending it didn’t.

there was two weeks until regionals now.

everyone’s tense and the rink is busier than usual. there’s more skaters and more pressure but tonight, she’s the only one left. again.

she’s been pushing herself too hard. trying things she shouldn't be attempting this late. her left ankle’s bruised and her back aches. her music plays on loop but none of it feels right. nothing has felt right ever since you stopped showing up.

she doesn’t expect to see you again, which is why when she hears the door creak open mid routine she doesn’t stop right away.

it’s only when she glances toward the stands and sees you with your blanket, tumbler, and uncertain smile that she fumbles a landing.

not enough to fall. but just enough to feel it. just enough to feel everything again.

you stay quiet for a moment and just sit there. 

karina lets out a shaky breath and skates to the edge, stopping right in front of you. neither of you say anything right away.

you hold out the tumbler.

she hesitates but takes it and wraps her hands around it like she did before.

“you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

she looks at you.

“noticed that from your seat?” she says, trying to sound teasing but it comes out tired.

“i noticed from not being in it.” you reply and her chest twists.

she leans against the edge of the rink, back against the wall. you lean forward next to her, elbows on the railing. 

“i didn’t think that you would come back.” she admits.

“i wasn’t sure if i should.”

“why did you?”

“because you looked like you needed someone.” you shrug. 

she glances up at you, something vulnerable showing in her eyes.

“i always do.”

that breaks something in you.

yet, neither of you move.

she sips the hot chocolate and you rest your chin on your hands.

“i missed watching you skate.” you whisper. 

karina closes her eyes for a second, as if she’s allowing herself to believe you again.

“i skated better when you were here.”

you heart stutters.

it always does when she says that. 

karina doesn’t look at you when she says it. she just stares down at her hands, thumbs moving over the tumbler. she looks small like this. not because she is, but because she’s tired. tired in a way that you’ve never really seen her before.

“then i guess i should’ve never left.”

she looks up. your stomach makes you feel weird in the way it always does when she looks at you like that. and she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. 

“you skate like you don’t even need air.”

“i don’t. until you’re not here.” she says quietly. 

there’s silence after that. you’re not sure of what to say next. 

“i brought you chocolate.”

karina lets out a quiet laugh. 

“you remembered?”

“of course i did. you barely eat.” you say this time. 

“that’s scary.”

“what is?”

“being known.”

the way she says it makes it seem like it’s a luxury she doesn’t let herself have.

you don’t reply. you just pull out the bar and hand it to her.  

“then i’ll be careful with you.” you mumble.

and that is the moment she knows she’s completely fucked.

because you’re kind and careful. and also someone else’s. and her coach’s daughter.

and she’s still never wanted to kiss someone more in her entire life.

she doesn’t say anything after that.

just keeps her eyes on the bar of chocolate like if she looks at you again, then something might break.

you don’t move either. you just sit there.

you can hear her breathing. see the way her fingers tap against the tumbler, then stop, and then start again. she’s fidgeting and that alone is strange.

“were you okay? the days i didn’t come.” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

her eyes drop.

“no.”

the honesty stings.

but she doesn’t apologize for it.

she shrugs a little, like she’s trying to play it off. “it was just… harder.”

“i’m sorry.” you nod slowly. 

“i didn’t want you to feel like you had to come.”

“i didn’t. i wanted to.” you say, meeting her eyes.

her breath catches. you notice but you pretend not to.

“i used to wonder if i actually helped at all. or if i was just a distraction.”

“you weren’t.” she says immediately with no hesitation. “you aren’t. you’re…”

she trails off.

“i’m what?”

she looks back at you, but she looks scared.

“you’re part that makes it hurt less.”

and that does something to you.

you don’t say anything. you can’t, really. not when your throat feels tight and your chest is full of something you can’t name. or you’re too scared to. 

so you reach over slowly, placing your fingers over hers.

she doesn’t move. her hand stays beneath yours, still and warm and trembling.

and for a moment, neither of you breathe. 

then your phone buzzes on the bench behind you.

karina pulls her hand away before you could even blink.

you turn around, already knowing who it is.

karina stands and grabs her bag without saying anything.

you wish she would. you wish you could.

“thanks for the snack.”

and then she’s gone.

───────────────────────

the next day you show up earlier.

you don’t pretend it’s not for her anymore. you’re sitting in your usual seat with your blanket, tumbler, and snack beside you as you watch the skaters rotate through their drills.

but karina doesn’t come out right away.

you see her peek through the glass from the hall. you catch her gaze for a second, then she disappears.

she doesn’t return until everyone else is wrapping up.

and even then, she still doesn’t look at you.

she glides past the bench, focused with her headphones in. you try not to take it personal, but it’s hard. her eyes don’t meet yours once.

you wait until she finishes her routine. she lands the last jump perfectly. almost too perfectly. like it’s anger and not focus pushing her through it.

you stand when she skates off.

she walks past you like she didn’t see you at all.

so you follow.

“karina.”

she doesn’t turn around.

“hey— stop.”

she finally stops by the far end of the rink right by the locker hallway, but she doesn’t face you. she just stands there with her fists clenched at her sides.

you take a step closer. “are you avoiding me?”

she exhaled. “i’m not avoiding you.”

“you literally didn’t look at me all night.”

“that’s not avoidance.”

“then what is it?”

“It’s self preservation.” she snaps.

you froze.

her chest is rising and falling quickly, eyes glossy with something she’s trying hard to suppress.

“karina.”

“i can’t do this. not when i know you’re gonna leave again. not when i know who you go home to. i’m trying to stay focused. this—“ she gestures between you two. “— this messes with me.”

“so what, you’re just cutting me off?”

she looks at you like she wishes she could say no. but she says nothing.

you shake your head. “you don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared.” she says too fast.

“then what are you?”

silence.

she looks at you and it breaks something in both of you.

“falling.”

your heart drops.

“falling. and you’re not allowed to catch me.”

neither of you move.

everything feels louder now. her hands are shaking again and you want to grab them, tell her you're already falling too, even if you’re too much of a coward to admit it yet.

but your phone rings again.

and this time, she doesn’t wait for you to answer it.

she just walks away.

───────────────────────

the next day is cold. like always. 

you’re already in the stands when karina steps into the rink, tying her jacket tighter with her head down. she’s barely slept either, but she’s used to that.

then she sees you. and her heart stops.

you’re curled up on the bleachers in the same blanket, but you look different. 

you’re always soft and always quiet, but this time there’s something hollow behind your eyes.

they’re puffy. and red.

your smile is barely there. 

she sees the dark circles immediately. and the way you’re not waving or calling out to her like usual. you don’t even look like you’ve eaten anything.

karina slows to a stop in the middle of the walkway, just staring at you. 

she can tell that something’s wrong.

and then the sound of your father’s voice cuts through the silence.

“again!”

karina flinches.

he’s not yelling, but his tone is sharp, cutting in that way only coaches can be. 

disappointment wrapped in professionalism.

“you’re stiff. you’re late on your rotations. you want to fall in front of the judges? pick it up. again.”

she doesn’t respond. just nods. she’s good at taking hits and pushing through. 

but even from the bleachers, you’re watching every second like it physically hurts to witness.

karina’s eyes change to you between jumps, just once, for a second.

and you’re already looking at her.

your eyes crack in heartbreak. 

like it’s killing you to see her go through this after the night you just had.

she lands the jump. barely.

your father says nothing this time, just mutters something under his breath and walks off toward the office.

karina exhales and then she looks at you.

that’s when she realizes. you weren’t just tired. you were crying. 

all night.

and somehow, she knows it wasn’t just about him. it was about her, too. about everything you’re not allowed to say. about everything that she made worse by pushing you away.

her throat tightens and you try to smile at her.

you don’t even think before you stand. you just move, blanket slipping off your shoulders and your feet hitting the bleachers faster than they should. your heart was pounding in your throat like it wants to say something first.

by the time karina’s stepping off the ice, you’re already waiting by the edge with your arms crossed.

she sees you and it wrecks her.

you can tell by the way she hesitates just for a second. the way her eyes linger on your face then drop to your hands. they’re empty.

she unties her skates slowly, like she’s trying to draw out the seconds. maybe she’s hoping that you’ll leave.

you don’t.

you crouch down beside her instead and she still doesn’t look at you.

“i brought water. it’s in the stands.” you say quietly. 

she doesn’t respond.

“i couldn’t sleep.” you add. 

she exhales shakily. “why are you here?”

you swallow. “because i can’t not be.”

her fingers pause on her laces.

“i kept thinking about what you said. that you skated better when i was here. that this messed with you.” you continue, looking at her hands instead of her face.

she doesn’t say anything.

“do you think it doesn’t mess with me too? do you think that i don’t feel it? when you look at me like that? when you won’t look at me at all?” you whisper.

she finally looks up. and it’s all there.

the hurt. the want. the grief of something she hasn’t even let herself have yet. 

“i don’t know what i’m allowed to feel when it comes to you. you’re the coaches daughter. you have a boyfriend. and i’m just—“

“stop.” you interrupt. “don’t do that. don’t reduce yourself to that.”

karina flinches.

“last night we got into an argument. i told him that it wasn’t fair. that someone else— you— make me feel more in the ten minutes after practice than he has in months.” 

her lips part. she looks like she’s trying not to break.

“you’re the only person who sees me for me.”

karina swallows hard. “you can’t say things like that.”

“why not?”

“because i want to believe them.”

you both fall silent.

you don’t touch her. you don’t move. You just sit in the silence, watching the way her eyes glisten and dart to the ground like she can’t bear to look at you for too long.

“i kept waiting for it to go away. whatever this is.” she says finally.

“and?”

she looks up.

“it never did.”

your breath hitches.

neither of you say it. you don’t need to. it’s the distance neither of you dare to cross yet.

“i skated better when you were here.” she says again. like it’s a confession now.

“and i broke when you weren’t.”

this time, you don’t look away. and neither does she.

she stands first.

you think she might reach for you, but her arms stay at her sides. her fingers twitch like they want to move but don’t know how to move without ruining everything.

“i should go.” she says quietly. 

“my ride’s waiting.”

you nod slowly. “okay.”

neither of you move. 

there’s a second where it feels like she might stay. like she might say screw it and finally do something reckless.

but she doesn’t.

she looks at you like she’s memorizing you in case this is the last time she gets to.

“you make things better. just by being here.” she says almost too softly to hear.

and then she turns.

no goodbye. no wave.

when you finally stand, your hands shake.

because you know it’s not over.

but it hasn’t started yet, either. 

it’s just waiting.

like you are.

one week before regionals. 

you’re curled up in your usual spot with a tumbler of tea between your hands. 

karina’s been skating for over an hour. and for once, she hasn’t looked your way.

you don’t blame her.

not really.

you told him the truth two days ago. you ended it.

but endings don’t mean freedom. not when guilt clings to you.

you’ve barely talked to her since.

not about it.

not about anything.

but you’re here. you’re always here, and she knows that.

when her routine finishes you stand without thinking, legs sore from sitting too long. you meet her by the edge of the rink. the way you always do.

you offer the water bottle without saying a word. she takes it with tired eyes, lips parted like she might say something.

but she doesn’t.

“you’re sharper today. your landings are cleaner.”

“thanks.”

just that. no warmth behind it. 

you swallow it down and try again. “do you want to run through it again with music? i can play it for you.”

she hesitates before shrugging. “if you want.”

it stings a little. but you press play anyway.

and as she skates, you watch her the way you always have. you’ve seen it a million times before, but it still knocks the wind out of you every time.

because she’s beautiful.

because she’s yours in all the ways that don’t count.

and it’s killing you.

when the music fades you’re already moving to meet her again. she unlaces her skates in silence.

you crouch beside her like you did the last time, and you’ll probably keep doing it until she tells you not to.

“you don’t have to keep showing up.”

“i want to.”

she glances at you quickly. 

“you’re going through stuff too.” she says.

“so are you.”

for a second, she just stares.

“does it hurt?”

“what?”

“the breakup.”

“yeah.” you don’t lie. 

she nods once. slowly.

then she says your name like it’s fragile. like if she speaks it too loud you might shatter.

“i hate that it hurts. but i don’t regret it.” she mumbles. 

you stare at her.

and you know. you know she’s not just talking about the breakup.

you know she means this. you. whatever’s going on between you two that neither of you fully touch yet.

“me neither.”

she doesn’t touch you.

you don’t ask her to stay.

you just sit side by side on the cold floor of the empty rink, hearts quietly breaking for each other in a way that feels like a promise. even if neither of you said the words. 

it happened four days before regionals. 

it was so fast that you barely registered it.

your dad’s voice was sharp as it echoed through the rink. words like focus, sloppy, and disappointment cut through the air with every frustrated step he took. 

karina stands perfectly still on the ice, arms stiff at her sides.

she doesn’t look at him.

she doesn’t look at you either.

“again. and this time, land the jump like someone who actually wants to qualify.” he barks.

you open your mouth like you were about to say something. but you don’t. you know better than to poke the fire when it’s this close to regionals. so you stay still and bite your tongue until it tastes like metal.

karina just nods quietly. 

like always.

like she’s learned to.

she runs the routine again.

it’s not bad.

but it’s not perfect. and he lets her know.

another critique and another sigh. then he walks away without even a good job to soften the blow.

you hear the door to the rink slam shut behind him.

and then it’s silent.

karina glides off the ice and sits on the bench without a word, untying her skates with trembling fingers.

you approach carefully.

she doesn’t look at you.

“i can’t do this.”

it’s so quiet you almost miss it.

her voice breaks on the last word, and she’s leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, hands gripping her hair like she’s trying to hold herself together.

your chest hurts.

you kneel in front of her without thinking. 

“karina—”

“i can’t breathe anymore. every time i mess up it’s like— he looks at me like i’m wasting everyone’s time. like i’m not worth it.” she chokes out. 

“hey. that’s not true.” you whisper, reaching up slowly but not touching her.

tears fall down her face, but she doesn’t wipe them. “i’ve done everything. i’ve pushed myself so hard i can’t even feel my legs anymore, and it’s still not enough.”

“you are enough.”

she shakes her head. “i’m so tired. and i don’t even know why i’m still trying. i keep thinking maybe… maybe if i do it perfectly, just once, someone will finally say i did good.” she whispers, voice trembling.

you feel your heart break. because you know that feeling.

so this time, you do reach for her.

you hand lands lightly on her knee. “i see you. i’ve seen you this whole time.”

karina finally looks up.

it looks like she’s been holding this in for years.

“you skate like it means something. i don’t care if you fall or if it’s messy. or if my dad doesn’t say anything. i’ll always think you’re perfect.”

she blinks and more tears slip down. then her lip quivers.

and then carefully and hesitantly, karina leans forward and rests her forehead on your shoulder. its not a hug but it’s close.

you don’t move.

you just stay there with her in the silence, letting her fall apart without asking her to stop.

because she’s always been the strong one. and maybe this once she needed someone to hold the weight.

───────────────────────

it’s late when your phone buzzes.

you’re still awake, staring at the ceiling. you’ve been replaying the moment in the rink all evening. the way her forehead pressed to your shoulder like she was scared to go any closer.

you reach for your phone.

karina are you still up?

you sit up instantly.

you yeah. are you okay?

there’s a pause. it’s long enough that you start to wonder if she’s fallen asleep.

karina can you come over? i don’t want to be alone tonight.

and in less than fifteen minutes later she opens the door in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. her hair was pulled back messily.

you love her so much in that moment it actually hurts.

“hi.” you say softly.

karina steps aside to let you in.

“you didn’t have to come.”

“you asked.”

she doesn’t argue.

her skates are drying by the heater, and sits cross legged on her bed. you follow hesitantly, leaving just enough space between you to make her feel safe.

“thank you.” she mumbled.

“for what?”

“for being there today. i don’t think i could’ve kept it together if you weren’t.” she shrugged. 

“you don’t always have to keep it together.” 

“yeah. try telling my brain that.”

“he was hard on you today.” you say after a while. 

karina nods, looking down. “he’s always been that way. but i guess it hit harder today.”

you watch her for a moment.

“i already think the world of you.” you say without thinking. 

karina blinks, breath hitching.

and she leans in. just a little.

“if i ask you to stay… will you?”

you don’t hesitate.

“i’m already here.”

and you don’t know what time it is now.

only that the world has gone still.

karina hasn’t moved in a while. not since she adjusted the blanket over your legs. she’s barely said anything, really. but she hasn’t stopped looking at you.

and you haven’t stopped pretending you don’t notice.

you should go.

you tell yourself that again and again, but instead you turn your head and find her already watching you. her lips were parted like she was about to say something but changed her mind.

“what?” you whisper.

she shakes her head. “nothing.”

you hesitate. 

“you can say it.”

karina’s eyes search yours, and for a second it looks like she might. like she’ll confess something. or maybe let go of something she’s been holding in for so long.

instead, she mumbles. “i skate better when you’re here.” she says again. 

“i’ll be here. if you want me to.” you say.

“that’s the problem.”

your heart stutters.

she doesn’t explain. but she doesn’t have to.

you’re the coach’s daughter and she has a championship to win. and yet, you’re here.

and she wants you.

you’re both still sitting close, knees brushing under the blanket. close enough to kiss if you leaned in just a little.

and maybe she’s thinking the same thing. because she leans in.

barely.

barely enough that it could be a dream.

your breath catches.

your eyes flutter down to her mouth. and she hesitates.

she sits there, fingers twitching like she wants to reach for your hand.

but instead of kissing you, karina leans in further and folds herself into you.

her arms go around your waist, gentle and unsure.

her face buries into your neck.

and you hold her without saying a word. you let her heart beat against yours. your fingers find the edge of her sleeve and just stay there, gripping gently.

you don’t move after that. neither of you do. 

you’re half-asleep when you feel her exhale against your neck. 

her arms tightened slightly around you, and her forehead rests just beneath your jaw now. her warm breath fans your collarbone.

“i don’t know how to stop wanting you.”

you freeze. not all the way, but enough. enough that your breath stutters.

you don’t breathe for a full second after she says it.

you wonder if she even knows she said it or if it slipped through the cracks of exhaustion and everything else that she’s been holding in.

you feel her body relax against yours a moment later. her breathing slows. she’s asleep.

and you’re still wide awake, repeating her words in your head. 

you close your eyes and press your cheek lightly to the top of her head.

“i don’t want you to stop.”

she doesn’t stir. she doesn’t answer.

maybe she won’t remember the words she said. maybe she won’t remember yours. but you will. you always will.

───────────────────────

the rink is full of silence. when you arrive you just stand there and watch her for a moment.

karina is skating slow mindless loops, nothing like her usual precision. she’s moving like she’s trying to outrun invisible. you know what it is. because you heard it.

your father’s voice still rings in your ears, loud and relentless. it was another round of “you’re still not landing clean” and “if you’re gonna do that tomorrow, don’t even bother showing up.” it was another night where she nodded without speaking, biting her tongue hard enough to keep the tears from slipping out.

you didn’t interfere. you never do. but you watch. you always watch.

and maybe that’s why you’re here now, stepping through the gap in the railing and walking out onto the empty rink.

she doesn’t notice you right away. her eyes are focused elsewhere and her gaze is distant. you wonder if she even feels her skates gliding beneath her anymore, or if she’s somewhere else completely. a place where no one’s yelling.

you kneel at the edge of the rink. “karina?”

she slows instantly, head snapping toward your voice like muscle memory.

“hey.” you say softly. 

she looks at you for a moment.

“you— uh— your dad said that you left.” she says. her voice is quieter than usual.

“i came back.”

she skates closer, finally stepping off the ice. she doesn’t sit, she just stands in front of you while hugging herself.

“you saw.”

“i did.”

karina lets out a humorless laugh and looks away. “whatever. i’ve had worse. 

“that doesn’t make it okay.”

her eyes flicker back to yours. there’s a flash of something there but she looks down quickly, beginning to untie her boots.

“you were good today. better than good.”

“not good enough.”

“for him. but you don’t skate for him.”

her hands fall away from her laces. she straightens slowly and finally looks at you. there’s something about her expression, like she’s trying to figure out whether to let this moment happen or shut it down.

“and who do i skate for then?” she asks. your heart skips. “i don’t know. but when you skate, i can feel it. the emotion. it’s indescribable.” you mumble.

karina swallows.

you take a step forward, closing the space between you.

“but i can see it.”

“you always show up when i need you most. even when you don’t know it.” she whispered after a bit. 

“what, are you keeping track?” you laughed. 

she hums. “maybe.”

you don’t know that she cried last night. that her hands shook as she held the letter. she read the email from the coach six times before your dad finally admit that he recommended her. that she almost said no.

almost.

you also don’t know this might be the last time she skates in front of you.

not yet.

“you nervous about tomorrow?”

“you’re the one competing.”

“yeah, but… i skate better when you’re here.”

there it is again. the quiet truth that she keeps letting slip piece by piece.

you don’t know how to answer, so you just stay silent. karina’s blades click softly against the ice before she kicks them off and pulls on her sneakers.

then she’s looking at you again. the look that always makes your heart clench a little too tight.

“you ever think about what happens after regionals?” she asks suddenly.

“like nationals?” she hesitates. 

“no. i mean like… after us. after the season ends.”

you pause. “i haven’t. not really. why?”

but she’s already looking away, shoulders tense in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“you okay?”

“i just… it doesn’t matter.”

it does matter. you know it does, but you don’t push. instead, you laugh quietly. 

“you’ll win tomorrow.”

she laughs a little brokenly. “that’s not what i’m worried about.”

you don’t ask what it is. because maybe you’re scared to hear the answer.

karina fiddles with the edge of her sleeve with her eyes fixed on the rink, but her focus is elsewhere.

“you sure you’re okay?” you ask again, softer now.

she inhales. her throat bobs as she swallows.

“i got an offer. to train in america.” she says finally.

“america?”

“yeah.”

“for summer training?”

“no. like— move there. train full time. i’d be part of a national development program.”

your stomach drops. “oh.”

“it’s… huge. like, dream level. career changing.”

“wow. that’s amazing.”

and it is. it is. but you feel the words hurting in your throat like they’re glass.

karina’s fingers flex against her knee. “i leave monday.”

silence crashes over you.

“oh.” you say again, because it’s all you can say. your voice barely comes out. she finally turns to look at you. and this time, she looks right at you.

“i wasn’t going to tell you. i didn’t want to ruin tomorrow. but then you showed up and i… i needed tonight.” she says.

your heart twists.

“so this is goodbye?” you ask and you hate how small you sound. karina’s jaw clenches. “don’t say it like that.”

“how am i supposed to say it?”

you get ready to leave and she follows.

“i didn’t ask for this. i didn’t want to leave. but your dad— he pushed for it. he said it was the only way i’d make it.” she says.

your eyes sting. “and you didn’t tell me?”

“i didn’t want to make it harder.”

“it already is.”

she’s standing right behind you now. you can feel the warmth of her breath on your shoulder.

“i would stay. if i could. i almost did.” she whispers.

you turn to face her and she’s right there. closer than she’s ever been. her eyes flick to your lips once and that’s all it takes.

you kiss her.

it’s instinctual. you don’t even mean for it to happen. you just do it. a gentle kiss pressed to her lips. 

she goes very still.

you pull back the second you realize what you’ve done, already panicking.

“i— i’m sorry. that was— god, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have—“

she grabs your wrist and pulls you in again.

she pulls you back in like she’s starved for you. your back hits the rink railing with a thud and the cold metal shocks you through your shirt, but you don’t even register it. not when she’s kissing you this messily, frantically, and desperately. 

her hands are everywhere. gripping into your hair, hugging the curve of your waist, keeping herself against your hips like she’s scared that you might disappear if she lets go. and maybe she is. maybe she knows.

“karina—” you gasp in between kisses, but she cuts you off with another kiss.

“i shouldn’t. you’re the coach’s daughter. i shouldn’t—“ she murmurs against your lips, but she doesn’t stop.

she pulls back long enough to look at you, eyes revealing that she’s trying to memorize this moment. and then she kisses you again. harder.

her hands slide under your jaw, cupping your face like it’s fragile, even though she kisses you like you aren’t.

the railing rattles under your grip as your body arches into hers, needing her closer before this all slips through your fingers.

because she’s leaving soon. because this ends soon. and you both feel it.

that’s why she kisses you like this. like she’s trying to carve the memory into her brain. like she’s terrified that this might the only time that she’ll ever get to touch you like this, and she needs to make it count.

“i’m so scared. i could win everything and i’m scared of what happens if i lose you after.” she whispers, forehead against yours.

you don’t answer.

you just hold her tighter.

you stay like that. pressed between her and the railing until the lights in the rink finally begin to dim for the night.

and she pulls back, with teary eyes.

“come tomorrow. please.”

you nod. 

three months after regionals. 

karina didn’t mean to come back to korea for long. it was just a short break so she could breathe again. she told everyone it was to reset. to clear her head before the next competition cycle. but no amount of sleep, early morning runs or phone calls with her mother, can ever fix the ache that settled in her chest three months ago.

not since she left you.

now she walks through familiar streets with a scarf tucked around her neck, hands in her coat pockets. she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s going. just says she’s going out for a bit and slips away before anyone can ask too many questions. her feet know the route before she does. every turn.

the closer she gets to the rink, the quieter her thoughts become. she pauses at the entrance for a long time, fingers stuck at the metal door handle. thr old banner hanging above the entrance has started to peel at the corners and a few letters faded. but it’s the same. everything is the same.

except her.

when she steps inside, it hits her all at once. the soft echo of her own footsteps against the floor reminds her of it all. this is where she became who she is.

and this is where she left the person who made her feel like herself.

she doesn't lace up her skates. doesn’t even sit down. she just walks the edge of the rink slowly, one hand following the railing. she can see her reflection staring back at her in the glass. she’s more tired and her eyes are flooded with something deeper than exhaustion.

she stops near the bench where she used to sit after practice. the same bench where you handed her water bottles, chocolates, and hand warmers. the same place where she started to let herself hope.

her chest tightens.

she doesn’t know what she was expecting. a sense of closure? a ghost of you?

but instead. you’re really there.

like no time has passed at all. like a prayer she didn’t know that she was still saying. and she can feel herself breathing again. 

at first, she thinks she’s imagining you.

you’re sitting on one of the benches, and your coat is pulled tight. your hands tucked into your sleeves and there's a water bottle resting beside you.

her heart stutters.

she blinks hard. more than once. and you’re still there.

she opens her mouth before she can stop herself, voice shaky and unsure for the first time in months. “…y/n?”

you look up. and that’s all it takes. karina swallows hard, taking a step forward. “is it really you?”

you nod slowly. like you can’t believe she’s real either.

“i didn’t think you’d be here.” you say quietly.

“i didn’t think you would.” she answers. “i was just just… I was passing by. I didn’t mean to—”

“you always pass by when you’re thinking too much.”

she huffs out a breath that was almost a laugh. her eyes are glassy now and she tries to blink it away but it clings.

“you look the same. but different.” she says.

“so do you.”

she hesitates before asking. “can i… come closer?” you don’t answer right away. you just shift slightly to the side on the bench to make space for her. that’s all she needs.

she walks across the empty floor slowly, skates swinging from one hand. she sits beside you, like the months between now and the last time meant nothing. or maybe they meant everything.

she finally breaks the silence with a voice that was barely above a whisper. “i skate better when you’re here.”

you turn to her and she’s already looking at you. “i don’t know why i said that,” she adds, flustered now. 

but you do. you know exactly why.

you lean your shoulder against hers and she leans back, like muscle memory.

neither of you speak again for a long time. but the familiarity of the silence is inevitable. like no matter how far you run, this was always where you’d end up. 

sitting next to each other. 

taglist — @saysirhc @prologue-ae @yuyuy90

[minxmut-cafe]

PLAY BOY BUNNY

Pairing : Bunny Hybrid Jungkook x Jaguar Hybrid Reader

Word count : 13 k

Warning : heat, smut, fluff, angst, cunnilingus, penetration, mentions of mating position, animalistic behaviour (no I'm not a furry BACK. OFF), sex, overstimulation and more...

Authors note : AAHHRHRHR IM FINALLY DONE WITH MY EXAMS YASSS!!!! MORE FICS COMING SOOON YOU ALL!! NEW PARTS FOR BEAR WITH ME, HEXED HEARTS AND A NEW YOONGI FIC IS ON THE WAY!!

I hope y'all have fun reading this fic. I'm planning on writing Hybrid aus for all the members so if you have any fun hybrid couple ideas COMMENT THEM OR SEND IN AN ASK!!!

Synopsis :

"What happens when it's the prey chasing the predator"

01 | 02 | 03

Y/N didn’t expect much when she moved into her new apartment. It was a decent place—close to campus, not entirely falling apart, and best of all, it had thick walls. Meaning she wouldn’t have to deal with noisy neighbors.

Or so she thought.

Because the first thing she noticed, before she even finished unpacking, was the sound of her next-door neighbor’s door unlocking. She turned just in time to see him step into the hallway—a big, broad-shouldered guy with sleeves of tattoos curling up his arms and a silver lip ring catching the light when he yawned.

Y/N stopped. Blinked.

A bunny hybrid.

She could tell from the ears twitching atop his head, the faintest scrunch of his nose as he rubbed a hand over his face. But the rest of him? The messy black hair, the piercings, the leather jacket slung over his arm? If she hadn’t smelled the hybrid part of him, she would’ve assumed he was just some intimidating bad boy.

Interesting.

He yawned again, stretching his arms over his head, completely unaware of her shameless staring. His muscles tensed, the tattoos along his forearms shifting with the movement, and Y/N found herself tilting her head.

A big, buff, tatted-up bunny hybrid?

That was new.

And, naturally, she had to say something.

"Didn’t know bunnies came in ‘bad boy.’"

Jungkook froze.

Finally noticing her, he dropped his arms and turned his head, blinking down at her like he hadn’t registered a single word she just said.

Y/N arched a brow, arms crossing as her tail flicked lazily behind her. "What, cat got your tongue?"

His nose twitched. "You’re a jaguar."

She grinned. "And you’re a bunny."

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. And?"

"And... you look like you beat people up for a living."

"I don’t," he deadpanned.

"Shame. Would’ve been a good side hustle."

She expected him to scoff, maybe roll his eyes and brush her off like most hybrids did when they realized she was a jaguar. Predators weren’t exactly known for their warm, welcoming energy. But Jungkook just stared at her, blinking in that slow, absent way of prey hybrids.

Then, with a final shake of his head, he muttered, "Whatever," and turned to leave.

Y/N wasn’t sure why that amused her so much, but it did.

This is going to be fun.

The first time Y/N saw a girl leave Jungkook’s apartment, she thought huh.

The second time, she thought oh.

The third time? She whistled.

Leaning against her doorframe, she tilted her head as yet another woman stepped out of his place, fixing her hair and adjusting her dress before hurrying down the hallway. Y/N waited until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, ears twitching as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

Oh, this is too easy.

"Morning, Playboy Bunny."

Jungkook flinched so hard his ears shot straight up. "What?"

She smirked. "I said, morning. Busy night?"

His nose scrunched. "Don’t—"

"Don’t what? Call you Playboy Bunny?" She tapped a finger against her chin. "Because it suits you, y'know. All that stamina, all those partners… you are a bunny, after all."

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "What is wrong with you?"

"What isn’t?"

That was the beginning of their tradition.

Every time she caught a girl leaving his apartment, she greeted him the same way. Morning, Playboy Bunny. And every time, Jungkook suffered. His ears drooped, his nose twitched, and he either avoided eye contact or grumbled something under his breath before slamming his door shut.

It was delightful.

But nothing—nothing—was as good as the day she introduced The Carrot.

It happened after class. She spotted him in the library, hunched over his laptop with his glasses slipping down his nose, concentrating hard on whatever he was working on.

So, naturally, she strolled up, dropped a huge carrot onto his desk, and said, “Thought you might need a snack, Bunny.”

Jungkook stared at it. Then at her. Then back at the carrot.

A vein in his forehead popped. "Y/N."

"Yes?"

"I will throw this at you."

She grinned. "You’d be wasting food, Playboy."

That was it. That was the moment she won. Because from that day forward, Jungkook called her Carrot like it was a curse.

"Move, Carrot."

"Shut up, Carrot."

"Oh my God, Carrot, go away."

She lived for it.

But somewhere along the way, things… shifted.

The teasing didn’t stop. But the way Jungkook looked at her did.

And that changed everything.

The first time she noticed it, it was small. Barely anything.

Jungkook had his head down, scrolling through his phone, one hand resting absently on his knee. She was perched on the balcony railing, playing with the bottle cap from her beer, the night air cool against her skin.

Then, something made him laugh—one of those quiet, breathy chuckles, the kind that wasn’t really meant for anyone else.

And his nose scrunched.

She blinked.

Huh.

Weird.

She shook it off, turning her attention back to the street below. But after that, she started catching things she never noticed before.

Like how his ears twitched when he was nervous.

Or how he chewed his lip when he was thinking.

Or how he had this habit of rolling his shoulders, easing the tension in them when he got out of the gym, sweat still clinging to his skin—

Nope. Not thinking about that.

"Carrot."

Jungkook’s voice snapped her out of it. She turned, schooling her features into a smirk. "What, Bun?"

His brows furrowed slightly, like he was debating something, before he huffed, reaching into the fridge. "You eating or not?"

This was new.

Usually, their interactions consisted of warfare. Snarky remarks. Petty revenge. Nothing serious. Nothing normal. But lately, Jungkook had been doing things like… inviting her over for dinner. Bringing her leftovers when he cooked too much. Showing up with her favorite iced coffee, claiming he “accidentally got the wrong order.”

Lies.

She knew because Jungkook was terrifyingly specific about his coffee.

And it wasn’t just him.

She had started lingering in his apartment more. Sitting on his counter while he cooked. Casually stealing his hoodies, pretending it was just to piss him off—when really, they were just… comfortable.

She should have seen the shift happening, but it crept up on her.

And then, one night, she really noticed.

Because suddenly—

The women were gone.

No more late-night departures. No more lipstick stains on his collar. No more muffled moans behind his door.

It took her a while to realize. At first, she figured he was just slowing down. Maybe taking a break. But then weeks passed, and—nothing.

The Playboy Bunny had retired.

And for some fucking reason, that unsettled her.

Not because she cared. No, absolutely not. She was just… confused.

So she casually brought it up.

"So." She lounged across his couch, flipping through channels. "You lose your touch, Bun? Or did you finally run out of girls dumb enough to fall for those stupid Bambi eyes?"

Jungkook didn’t even glance up from his laptop. "Jealous, Carrot?"

She scoffed. "You wish."

He just smirked, but then—

"No."

That was it.

No snarky comeback. No teasing remark. Just… no.

And that’s when it hit her.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

Jungkook had stopped because—because something had changed.

Because they had changed.

And suddenly, she wasn’t as comfortable on that couch anymore.

She tried to ignore it.

She really, really did.

But once the thought took root in her mind, it was everywhere. The lack of women. The way Jungkook’s ears twitched when she spoke. The way his gaze lingered when he thought she wasn’t looking.

And worst of all?

The way she started noticing him.

Like, yeah, okay—he was hot. She had eyes. She knew that. But before, it was easy to shove that knowledge aside because he was also annoying and a pain in her ass. But now?

Now it was distracting.

Like when he worked out in the building’s shared gym and came back sweaty, muscles tight beneath his hoodie, hair damp. Or when he stretched after a long day, ears flicking, abs flexing under his oversized shirt, and she—

No. Nope. Not thinking about it.

And yet, her stupid jaguar instincts weren’t listening.

She caught herself staring way too long at his hands—his big, veiny hands—while he chopped vegetables. Caught herself tracking his scent when he walked by. And the worst was when he stood too close.

Because suddenly, Jungkook was always close.

Like now.

She was in his apartment, perched on the counter as he cooked, pretending she wasn’t hyper-aware of how easily he could step between her legs if he wanted to.

"You spacing out, Carrot?" Jungkook’s voice snapped her back. He was smirking. "Didn’t know you liked watching me that much."

Her face heated instantly. She scowled, grabbing a baby carrot from the counter and throwing it at his stupid, smug Playboy Bunny face.

"Please, Bun. I’m just trying to figure out how a man with the personality of a wet napkin managed to pull so many girls."

Jungkook caught the carrot mid-air, popping it into his mouth. "Beats me. Maybe they just have bad taste."

And then—

His gaze flicked to hers.

Something intentional about it.

Something that made her stomach flip.

Fuck. Fuck.

She scrambled for another insult, but the moment was already gone. Jungkook turned back to his pan, effortlessly flipping something over, and she exhaled, trying to steady her pulse.

This was getting dangerous.

She needed to leave before she did something stupid, like keep looking at him.

"Alright, Bun. I’m heading—"

But then he spoke.

"Stay."

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t even a request.

It was instinct.

And she?

She stayed.

It was late.

Too late for her to be here, lounging on his couch like she lived there.

Too late for her to be sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the cushions, pretending she wasn’t hyper-aware of every movement he made.

The TV flickered, casting shifting shadows across the room. Some random documentary droned on in the background—something about deep-sea creatures. Normally, she’d be fascinated, but right now, the only predator she could focus on was the damn bunny behind her.

"You’re quiet tonight."

Jungkook’s voice was low, smooth—too calm.

She scoffed, reaching for her drink. "Maybe I just don’t have anything to say, Bun."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"That’d be a first."

She turned to glare at him, only to find him already looking at her. And not in the usual, I’m about to say something annoying way.

No, this was different.

This was heavy. Deliberate.

Her fingers tightened around her glass.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just Jungkook lounging on her couch. It wasn’t just them bickering over nothing.

It was him, looking at her like he wanted her.

And her, struggling to breathe under the weight of it.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, to joke, to deflect, but her body was frozen, waiting for something she didn’t want to name.

Then—he shifted.

Moved closer.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as his scent—warm, familiar, Jungkook—wrapped around her. She didn’t stop him. Didn’t move away.

She should have.

"carrot."

The way he said it—low, almost affectionate—made her stomach flip.

She licked her lips. He tracked the movement.

Fuck.

And then—he leaned in.

It was slow, measured, like he was giving her a chance to stop him. Like he was testing her, waiting to see if she’d bolt.

She should have.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she sat there, wide-eyed, heartbeat hammering, as Jungkook—the same Jungkook she’d been teasing for months, the same Jungkook she’d tormented over his playboy ways—tilted his head and broke her world apart.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice too soft, too breathless.

Jungkook’s fingers brushed against hers, tracing the curve of her knuckles.

"Something I should’ve done a long time ago."

Panic.

Feral panic.

Her brain short-circuited, instincts slamming into her like a freight train. Because this wasn’t banter. This wasn’t a game.

This was real.

He was real.

And she couldn’t—couldn’t—

So she did what she did best.

She lashed out.

"Oh." Her laugh was sharp, brittle. "What, trying to add me to your list now, Bun?"

Jungkook froze.

Something in his expression cracked—something she hadn’t meant to touch.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, slowly, he pulled away.

Sat back.

Nodded.

"I see."

And that was it.

No argument. No snarky retort. Just those two words.

Two words that felt like a knife to the gut.

Then Jungkook stood, grabbed his hoodie, and left.

And the second the door clicked shut behind him—

She realized she had fucked up.

The silence was unbearable.

Jaguar hybrids weren’t built for stillness. They thrived in motion, in chaos, in doing. But now, she just sat there, staring at the door like it might suddenly swing open and undo what had just happened.

"I see."

Those words echoed in her skull, clawing at her like sharp teeth.

She hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to make that face appear on him.

Jungkook didn’t crack. He was always easygoing, always smirking, always rolling with whatever punches she threw.

But that? That had hurt him.

And now—he was gone.

She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell had she just done?

She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her hand, the way his voice had dipped, the way he’d looked at her.

And she had ruined it.

Her tail lashed against the couch in frustration. Her instincts screamed at her to fix it, to go to him, but her body stayed rooted to the spot, frozen in some stupid, self-imposed limbo.

Because if she did go after him… what then?

Would she have to face the truth? That she wanted him? That the idea of being ‘just another girl’ on his list had made her jealous?

The thought made her ears flatten against her skull.

She wasn’t ready for that.

So she did the only thing she could do.

She avoided him.

She thought she could ignore it. Thought things would just… reset.

They did not.

Because Jungkook?

He ignored her right back.

And it sucked.

At first, she convinced herself it was fine. She didn’t need to talk to him anyway. It wasn’t like they lived together.

Except—

The silence stretched.

No more late-night hangouts. No more teasing. No more him dropping by unannounced, stealing her food, making her life chaotic.

He didn’t even look at her.

When they crossed paths in the hallway, he didn’t smirk. Didn’t call her ‘Carrot.’ Didn’t even acknowledge her existence beyond a curt nod before walking away.

And it drove her insane.

Worse, it made her aware of him in ways she had never been before.

The way his ears twitched toward her before he forced them back. The way his shoulders tensed when she was near, like he was holding himself back.

The way she missed him.

It was humiliating.

She wasn’t supposed to care this much.

But she did.

And the breaking point came three days later.

The building’s gym was mostly empty this late, just how she liked it. Or—normally, she would.

Tonight?

Not so much.

Because Jungkook was here.

And he still wasn’t looking at her.

She was on the treadmill, pretending not to stare, but fuck, it was impossible. He was lifting weights in front of the mirror, sleeveless hoodie dark with sweat, tattoos on full display.

Normally, she’d have made a comment. Something obnoxious, something to piss him off.

But now?

Now, she just watched, unable to ignore the coil of frustration twisting inside her.

Then—

He caught her staring.

For one, brief second, their eyes met in the mirror.

And then—he looked away.

Like she was nothing.

Something snapped.

She was off the treadmill before she could think twice, stalking toward him with all the pent-up frustration of the past few days clawing at her ribs.

Jungkook didn’t stop his reps, didn’t even acknowledge her, and that only pissed her off more.

"Okay, what the fuck?"

He didn’t respond.

She stepped closer, tail lashing behind her. "Jungkook."

Nothing.

Not even a twitch.

Oh, so this was how it was?

"You’re really ignoring me? Over that?" she snapped.

Finally, finally, he put the weights down. Turned to face her.

His expression was unreadable, but his ears—his ears were stiff, tense, pissed.

"Over what, exactly?" His voice was calm. Too calm.

Her stomach flipped.

"Oh, don’t play dumb," she hissed. "You know exactly what I mean."

Jungkook crossed his arms, muscles flexing. "Enlighten me, Carrot."

Oh.

Oh, he was mad mad.

She hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough for him to scoff and turn away again, reaching for his water bottle.

Something in her snapped.

"Are you serious? What, you’re mad because I didn’t immediately fall into your lap like the rest of them?"

She regretted it instantly.

Because the way he stilled?

Yeah, that wasn’t good.

When he turned back to her, his jaw was tight, eyes dark.

"Right." His voice was flat. "Got it."

Then—he grabbed his stuff.

And walked away.

And this time—

She knew he wasn’t coming back.

Thump.

Thump.

Moan.

Her ears twitched.

Her entire body went rigid.

No.

No, there was no way.

She lifted her head from where she’d been slamming it into her pillow, ears flicking as she strained to listen.

And then—

Another moan.

Her stomach dropped.

Oh.

Oh, of course.

She wasn’t special.

Just a dumb jaguar with self-sabotaging tendencies and a big, fat, gaping ego wound.

Of course he had moved on.

Why wouldn’t he?

Jungkook was a Playboy Bunny. Hadn’t she been calling him that from the start? Hadn’t she spent months teasing him about the revolving door of women leaving his apartment all satisfied and wrecked?

So why did she feel like she was about to explode?

Her claws sank into the mattress, tail lashing behind her in sharp, agitated swipes.

The thumping got louder. The bedframe next door rattled.

She felt sick.

Not because of the noise—no, she could handle that. She had handled that. But because—

Because for a split second, she had let herself believe it could have been her.

That she could have been the reason he stopped bringing women home.

That the way he looked at her—touched her—had meant something.

And then she’d thrown it in his face.

Now?

Now, he was making damn sure she got the message.

The next moan was louder, high-pitched, exaggerated, like it was meant to be heard.

Her fur bristled.

Her entire body tensed, muscles coiling with rage—

And before she could even think—

She was out of bed, storming toward the wall, ears pinned flat, teeth bared—

And then—

She heard it.

"Ahhh—hah—ugh, fuck, Carrot—"

She froze.

Air punched out of her lungs.

Her vision went white.

Did he—

Did he just—

Did he just moan her fucking nickname?!

Her tail puffed up so fast it nearly sent her off balance.

What the fuck?!

Her brain short-circuited.

She stood there, stunned, her entire existence collapsing in on itself.

And then—

She heard another thump.

A grunt.

And suddenly—

The noises stopped.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

And then—

A single, horrified whisper from the other side of the wall—

"Oh… fuck."

Oh.

Oh, this bitch.

Her eye twitched.

Because now, now she understood.

There was no one in that room.

No woman.

No late-night visitor.

Just a stupid, self-righteous bunny who had been faking it—

And moaning her fucking nickname while jerking himself off like a little bitch.

She saw red.

A second later, she kicked the wall—hard enough to shake the entire apartment.

"You absolute fucking menace! she snarled. “You were faking that?!"

A long pause.

Then—

A very, very guilty—

"... No?"

She lunged for the door.

Oh, he was dead.

Jungkook was a dead man.

A dead fucking man.

She knew it the second she slammed her fist against his door, claws extended, rage boiling under her skin.

"Open the fucking door, Bunny."

Silence.

Too much silence.

Oh, that bastard was debating it.

She could feel it.

Her tail lashed, her body coiled, instincts screaming.

And then—

She heard it.

A shuffle.

A click.

The sound of feet moving away from the door.

Oh, so he was gonna run?

Big fucking mistake.

Without thinking, she did what any self-respecting, unhinged jaguar hybrid would do—

She kicked the door in.

The wood cracked, the lock gave way, and the door slammed open so hard it nearly rebounded.

And there he was.

Jungkook, standing in the middle of his living room—shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, very obviously freshly post-nut—staring at her like she was a demon straight out of hell.

His ears shot straight up.

"Oh, shit."

He bolted.

Oh, he fucking ran.

This dumbass.

This absolute coward.

She launched after him with a snarl, narrowly missing his tail as he vaulted over the back of his couch.

"You faked an entire fucking orgy just to piss me off?!" she shouted mid-chase.

Jungkook laughed—the audacity—dodging her swipe as he scrambled toward his bedroom.

"It worked, didn’t it?!"

Oh, he was so fucking dead.

She chased him through his own damn apartment, knocking over furniture, nearly slamming him into a wall when she grabbed his hoodie, but he twisted out of it like a snake.

His damn bunny speed was the only thing saving his lying ass.

But then—

He miscalculated.

Because instead of diving onto the bed like he intended—

His foot caught on the rug.

And suddenly, his big, buff, tatted-up bunny ass was crashing face-first into the mattress.

She was on him instantly.

Pouncing, straddling his back, pinning him down as she snarled into his ear.

"Say that shit again, Playboy," she hissed, yanking his ear for emphasis.

Jungkook groaned, face still buried in the sheets. "Ow—fuck, okay, okay—"

"Okay what? Okay, you’re a fucking menace? Okay, you’re a little bitch who can’t just talk about his feelings like a normal person?!"

He groaned again, ears twitching against her grip. "Okay, fuck, I get it! I’m sorry!"

She huffed, claws flexing against his shoulders. "You should be."

Then—

His back tensed under her hands.

Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head just enough to look at her over his shoulder.

And then—

That fucking smirk appeared.

"Damn, Carrot," he murmured, voice deep, teasing, dangerous. "If you wanted to be on top of me that bad, you could’ve just said so."

Her brain shut down.

Her entire body betrayed her.

Because fuck, he was warm under her. Solid. Muscles hard beneath her hands. And suddenly, she was the one panicking, heart slamming against her ribs, tail puffed up again like some stupid house cat.

Jungkook knew it.

He felt it.

His grin widened.

And that was the moment she realized—

She had lost.

Completely.

Utterly.

Hopelessly.

Because she wasn’t mad about the faked sex noises.

She wasn’t mad about the avoidance.

She was mad because—

She wanted him.

She wanted him so fucking badly it made her insane.

Her instincts knew it.

Her body knew it.

And judging by the way Jungkook’s ears were twitching, his pupils blown wide—

He knew it, too.

Her breath hitched.

A second. Just a single second too long.

That’s all it took.

Jungkook moved.

Fast.

Before she could react, before she could run, he flipped her.

One second, she was straddling him.

The next, she was on her back, trapped under him, wrists pinned beside her head, his entire massive body caging her in.

His nose twitched.

His ears lowered.

And then—

He leaned in.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Testing.

"You gonna run, carrot?" he murmured, voice husky, lips inches from hers.

CONTINUED—

[yoongle--boongle--pie]

Pechsträhne Masterlist

MOVED ACCOUNTS!

Find updated account @yoongleboonglepie

This masterlist will not be updated moving forward. Please refer to new account!

Love Y'all!

Genre: Horror au, paranormal au, hurt/comfort, slow burn, romance, psychic au, friends to lovers, Mystery, BTS ot7 x reader

Rating: 18+: Keep that in mind as this is at its core a paranormal/heavy theme rooted in history and myth, and some things are emotionally disturbing or spooky. Read at your own discretion as I will only be putting trigger warnings for things that can pose severe safety risks to those affected. All else, like I said it is a spooky and mystery au.

Y/n Wörner left the Wörner Hotel and Estate nearly 5 years ago in an attempt to run away from a family argument that put a firm divide between her and her parents. She was managing fine, for the most part -save for the constant existential crisis of what she should do with herself and her life. That was until an invitation for the 150th anniversary of their family hotel ended up shoved in her mailbox on Thursday morning, and for no rational reason she found herself running back; unable to stop the pull to return home to her family and friends who live on the grounds. Once she arrives, however, it becomes inarguably apparent that things are very wrong. The ghosts of her long past family who were once friendly, are now vengeful and violent. Her friends are divided by secrets, mystery, and fear- changed in tandem with the ghosts she used to love. She has to relearn how to balance who she knew her friends as children, and who they have become in the recent years as a result of the darkness that threatens to drown them in its wake. She knows that something is threatening her home and her friends, but she doesn't know what. And if there's one thing about Y/n Wörner, it's that she's not a quitter. No ghost or demon will stop her from getting the answers she needs- even if it means they have to try and kill her before she gets to them. Because what does she have to lose?

_________________________________________

Main story,

Chapter 1 - 2/16/2025

Chapter 2- 2/19/2025

Chapter 3- 2/22/2025

Chapter 4- 2/24/2025

Chapter 5- 3/1/2025

Chapter 6- 3/10/2025

Chapter 7- 3/15/2025

Chapter 8 - 3/20/2025

Chapter 9 - 3/28/25

Chapter 10 - 4/6/2025

_________________________________________

Pieces of Red String for you to Follow if you Dare...

Namjoon Character Moodboard

Seokjin Character Moodboard

Yoongi Character Moodboard

Hoseok Character Moodboard

Jimin Character Moodboard

Taehyung Character Moodboard

Jungkook Character Moodboard

Pinterest Boards

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Historical Archives and Notes of Y/n Wörner

Photos of rough outline of the estate (not hotel)

Morse code clues, chapters 7 and up: x x x x

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Find chapter playlists here:

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Youtube music

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Do not repost anywhere or steal my writing. Thx.

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 8

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: Jimin has dirty thoughts, bits of jealousy here and there

💬 Word count: 8.2k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

Chapter 8: Past Ties, Present Tensions.

A week has passed since Jimin's and your night together. You shouldn't be so relaxed about it, but you must admit it was probably the best thing that could have happened to you two. 

Admittedly, the morning after was a bit awkward at first. You weren't sure what to say and didn't know how he would react. Luckily, you're both pros at shaving off unpleasant situations and not taking yourselves too seriously, so it passed quickly. Not long after, you were yourselves again, fooling around and making jokes about it.

Now it feels like you just fucked away all the sexual tension and frustration that was undoubtedly in the air, making more room for the things that really matter. Like saving your reputation and… whatever Jimin wants out of this. 

You have stopped trying to understand what he wants from Yeji. After your last talk, you're sure his biggest anger is directed at Taehyung instead of her. It's up to him if he can forgive her and wants her back––even if you could never understand it. It's not your place to judge his love life. 

Once this deal is over, you'll likely have no further connection with him, so it's best not to get too involved in his life in the first place. He neither wants nor needs your advice. While things may seem friendlier now, you're still nothing but a means to an end. And that end is supposed to be Yeji.

It shouldn’t feel so strange to think about this, but you can’t change your feelings. You can say many things about him, and not everything will be positive, but Jimin is basically your life right now—in the most unromantic way possible. The status of your relationship doesn’t really matter; he is still the sole reason you’ve been leaving your house lately, whether you like it or not.

It's the events he invites you to, his friends you spend time with, and he's the only reason you can be around people without receiving stupid comments.

In a way, this is the best time you've had in a while, but it's just an illusion. As sad as it sounds, you had nothing before him and you'll have nothing when he's gone again. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

These are the thoughts that keep you awake these days and these are the reasons why you need this emotional distance from him. At the end of the day, he’s not your friend and he never will be. 

Even now, this moment, while you're spending time with Nayeon, these thoughts are buzzing around in your head and distracting you from what she is saying. 

“You can join me and my cousin on our shopping trip. I’ll show you around, we’ll go clubbing… just us girls. It would be so much more fun with you around,” Nayeon suggests, pouting a little to pursue you. 

You grin, leaning back against the tree with a contended sigh as you shake your head. “An extended weekend alone won’t kill me, Nayeon. I’ll be fine,” you counter. “I don't mind being on my own for a while. And don’t act like I could afford any of that,” you wink, partly joking, partly not. The shops Nayeon and her cousin shop at are a hundred percent out of your financial capability.

“I’ll pay?” She sends you an innocent grin but quickly takes it back when she sees the look you give her and replaces it with a displeased growl. “Then ask Jimin for some pocket money! It's the least he can do if he's going to leave you here alone for four days,” she whines, sending death glares to a nonpresent Jimin. 

“I told you before, I’m the one who didn’t want to come and I’m totally fine with staying here by myself for a few days. I promise.”

There's an upcoming extended weekend, and Jimin is spending it with his family in their vacation home in God knows where. He’s asked you multiple times to join them, telling you his parents have asked you to come and join them but you declined for many reasons. The biggest one is that you have no business being there on their family vacation. 

The first time you met his family was nerve-wracking enough; you don't have to repeat that, especially not for several days at a time––you know you'll mess it up somehow.

“He hasn’t spent any time alone with his family in forever. I’ll let him have that,” you explain. “We really don’t need to see each other every single day. That’s not healthy anyway,” you try to reason, although Nayeon strongly disagrees. 

“As his girlfriend, you’re a part of his family. He’d love to have you there, I’m sure.”

You love how concerned she is for you but it’s hard when she never accepts your excuses as to why you can’t always do these lovey coupley stuff things with her best friend and it’s a little bothersome.

“Nah, sorry. I already have a hot date with my TV and a frozen pizza. Gotta get back to my roots,” you wink, earning a soft slap to your shoulder that makes you laugh. “Mijoo’s boyfriend isn’t coming either so I thought it’d be a good opportunity.” 

“Yeah but no one wants him there in the first place, I’m afraid,” Nayeon states. 

“Not you too! Leave that poor kid alone, oh my God.”

Nayeon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but join in, although you still feel a bit guilty about it. As your laughter gradually fades, you notice Jimin approaching. His dance lesson has run over time again, and you both agreed to meet here once he finishes. You see him scanning the area for you, and finally, his gaze lands on you after Nayeon kindly waves him over.

You show him a smile, which he returns before someone seems to call him from behind and he stops and turns.

From a distance, you can't understand anything, but you can see that Leah is the one who approaches him and gives him something. Jimin takes it and says something before he turns back around but she quickly grabs his arm and says something else.

“Ugh, I hate when she does that.”

You tear your gaze from the scene to Nayeon, who is watching them as well but with a displeased frown on her otherwise perfect face. 

“Who? Leah?” You ask as she nods affirmatively.

“She just can't let it go, it’s pathetic,” she sighs, looking at you. “You’re better than me. If I were in your shoes, I would have told her off by now.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Aren’t you a bit dramatic? She’s not doing anything. As far as I know, Jimin is helping her with an upcoming performance or something.” 

“Babe, trust me. She doesn’t need his help for anything, she just wants to be around him,” she replies, looking displeased.

You pause for a moment while you study Leah's body language. Her hand is still on Jimin's arm, and even at that distance, it's clear she's flirting. It reminds you of the dance lesson you accidentally barged into and how she behaved there. Maybe Nayeon is not entirely wrong. But this is technically none of your business although you can’t tell her that. 

You shrug, fishing your phone out of your pocket, and try to occupy yourself with something else instead. “I’m sure he can handle one or two fangirls.”

“Of course. I didn’t want to plant any negative thoughts into your head, I’m sorry if I did that.” Nayeon apologies. “It’s just… given the circumstances, it would probably bother me more than you right now but maybe that’s the problem. I'm so pre-loaded by my previous relationship that I lack confidence. Jimin would never do anything like that. He's not like Taehyung.”

You understand what she means. Her history with Taehyung has left her with scars, but you're sure that she's far from being the only one who feels this way. You even have your own trust issues. You would never judge her for that. And even if you don't see this situation with Leah as half as dramatic as Nayeon does, there's still something in what she said that makes you wonder.

“What circumstances?” 

She halts for just about a moment before she speaks. “Well you know… their past and all that. It would bother me if I was in your position.”

Nayeon sounds hesitant and her face changes from concerned to alarmed when she sees the confusion in your eyes. 

“He hasn’t told you.”

“Hasn’t told me…”

“That they used to sleep with each other,” she explains. “She was basically the one to help him get over Yeji. You must know about that, no?”

Her reaction suggests that your silence is enough of a response. “I’m so sorry, ___! I didn’t know! I shouldn’t have said anything.” Nayeon sounds genuinely heartbroken for you and you wonder if your facial expression is doing anything it isn’t supposed to. So you quickly gather yourself and offer her an uninterested shrug. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m fine.”

“You know what? You’re right.“ Nayeon scoffs, sending glares toward Jimin. “He was the one who should have told you. I can’t believe he didn’t,” she fumes. 

“He doesn’t have to tell me about everyone he was sexually involved with before we even met,” you reason. He doesn’t have to tell you anything really. Although it would have been nice if you had known since you feel pretty stupid now.

"I believe it would be the most respectful thing to inform you about that if it involves someone he is clearly still in contact with," she insists. "He's a good guy. I know it might not mean anything, but it feels pretty inconsiderate towards you."

You must admit that she has a point here. If Jimin was your actual boyfriend, it would probably make you feel uncomfortable, which is why you can understand Nayeon's reaction. But he isn’t your boyfriend and you’re not allowed to feel anything towards this revelation so the fact that it does bother you in some way, is bothering you in a whole different way. 

“You have to talk to him about it. I love him, but his stupid boy brain probably doesn't even know he's done anything wrong, so you have to confront him about it, okay?”

“I will,” you sigh. “Just don’t say anything now,” you plead, seeing Jimin walk over to you.

He’s smiling as he breaks into a soft jog to join you a little sooner but it disappears as soon as his eyes fall on Nayeon’s death glare, that’s undoubtedly directed at him.

“Hey. Sorry, it took me so long.”

“I’m sure you are.” Nayeon doesn’t hold back even a little and you’re going to strangle her later for making this a bigger deal than it has to be.

He looks at her confused, giving you a chance to send glares her way. “What crawled up your ass?” 

Nayeon ignores your subtle hints and grabs her bag before looking at him with a look that’s anything but nice. “Your audacity, Jimin. Your audacity.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He is now directing his question more toward you, realizing that he is not on Nayeon’s good side right now even if he has no idea why. 

You don’t even know what to say or do, so you just avert your eyes and try not to get involved. 

Nayeon doesn’t say anything else to him and just waves at you to tell you she’ll leave now, not without giving you a certain look that tells you to have that talk with Jimin. 

Moments like this make you wish she knew the truth. It's unfair to lie to her when there's no good reason. Plus, you feel guilty for constantly lying to your friend.

She probably wouldn't approve of your plan, but she wouldn't tell anyone either. You can be sure of that. Besides, it would make so many things easier, especially for you. Sometimes you just need someone to complain to about Jimin. Jungkook doesn't count.

“Am I tripping or is she mad at me?” Jimin asks you this time directly. 

“Yes, she is.” You sigh, dreading this conversation already.

“Well, are you going to tell me the reason?” 

You let out a quiet groan and cover your face with your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you used to be involved with Leah?” you blurt out, immediately cursing yourself for sounding so offended.

Jimin looks taken aback, opening and closing his mouth a few times before clearing his throat. He gives a somewhat shy smile and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t think that would be important.”

You hate yourself for even bringing it up and now having to have this conversation with him when it concerns something that is none of your business. You don't even want to imagine what he might think.

“It’s not!” You squeal, coughing right after. The words leave your mouth a little too fast. “I mean, I don’t care,” you clarify, watching him just nod his head but looking even more confused. 

“Yea, didn’t think you would which is why I never said anything,” he chuckles. “So why are you asking me now?”

You groan again, cursing not only yourself but Nayeon for bringing it up. “I don’t even know. It’s stupid.”

However, you've already said too much and you know he isn't going to relent now, so you decide to give him a quick run-through of your and Nayeon's conversation earlier. 

“Nayeon was complaining about her 'still trying with you' and was wondering why I was so okay with it considering your past. I clearly didn’t know what she meant and now she’s mad at you because she thinks you intentionally kept this little detail from me—which would be pretty shitty from you if we were actually dating which we aren’t, but I can’t tell her that so… it’s awkward now. Sorry.” 

Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “This is typical for her. She loves sticking her nose in other people’s business and making it her problem. She’ll come around,” he waves it off, seemingly not giving it a second thought, which is not to your satisfaction.

You don’t agree with him on this. He might be right about her making your situation her problem but she doesn't do it out of boredom or because she's curious. You understand her intention behind it.

“I think you misjudge her reaction,” you say, crossing your arms in defense. “She’s just trying to be a good friend to me. Purposely keeping that from me would be a pretty shitty thing from you if we were actually dating which we aren’t. But she doesn’t know that and I can’t tell her so… it’s not her fault. She’s being a real one.”

Jimin scoffs and turns away from you, checking his phone without saying another word, which only makes you angrier.

“Why the attitude now?” You confront him, not seeing the point of letting him off so easily. Not when he decides to be immature about this. 

“What attitude, ___?” He sighs, clearly showing that he is now tired of you as well. 

“You’re being a dick about it and I don’t get why,” you snap. 

“I’m not being a dick. I just don’t feel like discussing my past hookups right now and I still don’t get why you care.”

“I don’t care!” You state, starting to really get annoyed. “You can do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me and guess what? It does. It would have been nice to know that you've slept several times with that one girl you always have private dance lessons with and who is always around you, so I don't look like a clueless idiot when I'm asked about it. Cause tell you what, it was really fucking awkward and it was just Nayeon. I don’t even want to imagine what everyone else is saying about it. You think that has no influence on what is said about us?”

“For the record, she’s not always around. At all. We share a dance class and sometimes I stay behind to help her with something she doesn’t quite get. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ve never heard anyone say anything about it because I’m very careful about that and I still don’t get why it's that big of a deal for you. Why does it matter what a few individual idiots might think? Everything is going great.”

“Oh?” You raise your brows, feigning surprise. “That’s interesting because I remember it was a very big deal for you when this was about Jeon and me.”

“That was different—”

“Why?“ You cut him off. “Because you were the one that was made fun of? Because you can handle it better when people talk about me instead of you?”

Jimin’s eyes go soft at your words and he lowers his head with a soft sigh. “No, of course not.”

Your gaze on him remains sharp as he looks at you again. 

“I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry. I didn’t consider what it’s like from your perspective.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and you hate yourself for how attractive you think he looks right now when this is the completely wrong moment for thoughts like that. 

“Look, what happened between Leah and me was never anything serious. Not in the slightest. We hooked up for a while because it was convenient. Well, at least for me but that was it. It was just a couple of times and we always parted right after so… no big deal. I didn’t tell you about it because it wasn’t necessary at the beginning; we weren’t close or anything and we barely ever hung out when we didn't have to. She recently asked me if I could help her with a few new steps and I thought nothing of it and agreed. That’s it. But I understand your concerns and she undoubtedly is a bit… clingy. I’ll tell her to find someone else to help her.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you frown. “That’s not what I wanted.”

“But you’re right. It really doesn’t look good. And she does get a bit too close at times. I don’t want her to get any wrong ideas. I’m taken after all,” he argues, sending a wink your way that makes a strange feeling appear in your stomach area.

“Do whatever you need to do. I just don’t want to be involved.”

He hums, not saying anything more. You don’t look at him but when he turns strangely quiet you do, seeing him smirk at you. 

“What?” You ask, arching a brow. 

Jimin chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and bringing you closer to his side. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

You almost spit out the remains of your drink, suddenly getting into a coughing fit as you hear Jimin’s sinister laugh next to your ear.

“I am NOT jealous!” You deny and deliberately push him away from you. “Have you understood anything of what I just explained to you?”

You pout, realizing he doesn’t take you seriously at all; he’s still laughing so hard that his eyes disappear completely. Fed up with him, you stand up, ready to leave and escape from him. However, he reacts quickly and grabs your hand before you can go, pulling you back into him. 

“Man. This is going to be hard,” he sighs, fighting against your attempts to get yourself free from his grip and smiling when your groans turn into slight giggles. 

After you have regained your composure, you find yourselves in a position that does not suggest that you were arguing just a few minutes before. Jimin is leaning against the tree and you're lying on your back with your head in his lap. You enjoy the feeling of him playing with your hair as you absentimindedly pick apart a daisy.

It's a calming atmosphere that even allows you to ignore the noise of other students.

“You’re gonna be okay this weekend?” Jimin's soft voice suddenly rings out.

You form an answer with a certain look you give him. “Why is everyone asking me this as if I’m incapable of being by myself? It’s just four days. I’ll survive,” you chuckle, trying to poke his cheek from your current position to get rid of that intense stare he's giving you. 

“I know you will but just in case… My parents would love to have you there,“ he says. 

“Me, not so much, but I would cope,” he then jokes, sending you a wink with it. “The house is right by the sea. Could be romantic. You, a bikini, me…”

“Ew, I don't need any more reasons not to come, Park. I've already made up my mind,” you cringe, dramatically shaking your head to dispel the image as you lift your head from his lap and sit up next to him.

“But it’s going to be so boring!” He whines, dramatically falling flat on the grass and covering his face. “I wanna make out on the beach,” he pouts peaking at you through his fingers. 

“You’ve never been less desirable,” you say in a dry tone, occupying yourself with your phone, not noticing him creeping up behind you until you feel his lips on your neck, reaching that spot right under your ear. Goosebumps break out all over your arms, and of course he notices. It makes you shut up real quick.

“You were saying?” He rasps, and even if you can’t see his face right now, you can imagine that huge smirk on his lips just fine. 

You straighten your back as you turn and look around to make sure nobody is watching you as you clear your throat. “Whatever. It won’t happen.” 

Jimin lets out a long sigh, mumbling something about this being the longest four days of his life, but he doesn’t pester you any further, which you’re very thankful for. 

“I received an invitation to Leah’s birthday party,” he informs you. “Are we going? It’s next week, apparently.”

You put your phone away and raise a brow in question as you look at him. “You’re asking me?”

“Well yes. We’re only going if it’s okay with you. If you think it could be uncomfortable, perhaps we should leave it alone. Your decision.” For a change, he sounds genuinely interested in your opinion on this without trying to annoy or make fun of you. 

You feel warm, knowing that despite his teasing, he understood your earlier conversation and is willing to let you decide what to do. 

“Was it you who received the invitation or us?” You grin, aware that there must be a reason Leah invited him separately from everyone else.

“Inviting me automatically means inviting you too,” he scoffs, not sharing your perspective. “She knows that.”

“If you say so,” you shrug. “You know her better than I do.” 

Why you feel the need to say that, you don’t even know and you bite your tongue right after, hating yourself for sounding so grumpy and silly when you already moved on from that topic. Plus you don’t want Jimin to get the wrong idea again because you are not jealous. You’re not. 

Lucky for you, he doesn’t catch up on your tone. It’s either that or he doesn’t comment on it, and knowing Jimin, he surely would. 

You don’t see the appeal in another unnecessary conflict so you swallow your distaste and muster up a smile. “We should go.”

“Really?” Judging by his expression, Jimin did not expect to hear that from you. 

“Sure.” You shrug. “Why not?” 

“Okay,“ he nods, showing you a considerate smile. “But now let's go back to the bikini one more time—”

You don't let him finish the thought before you stand up, rolling your eyes and telling him you’re going home.

It’s late and you’re already tucked under your cozy blanket, laying on your uncomfortable couch and scrolling through your phone when your doorbell rings. 

You’re certain you didn’t order anything; your mom would have called you first, and Jimin should be out with his family by now. So, your introverted and lazy self decides to ignore whoever it is at the door.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long before the doorbell rings again. 

Ringing the wrong doorbell once might be a mistake, but if the person tries again, it could be important. By now, you’re almost convinced that it must be Jimin making one last attempt to get you to join him in living out his unfulfilled fantasies.

You’re not exactly thrilled about being interrupted during your me-time, so when you open the door, you respond with a curt, “What?” However, your irritation turns to embarrassment when you find your new neighbor standing in front of you.

You saw each other for the first time a few weeks ago when he moved in, but you only had a fleeting conversation. He's the last person you expected to see at this time of night.

You gasp, quickly trying to cover yourself in front of the stranger. It's not that you're inappropriately dressed, but standing in front of a stranger in your much too big pajamas when you're not even wearing your bra doesn't happen usually. 

“I'm sorry, I hate to bother you this late,” he apologizes, seeing how startled you look. 

“No, no! I’m the one who’s sorry. I was expecting someone else,” you chuckle, brushing a loose strand behind your ear in a desperate attempt to make yourself look a bit less… unkempt.

“Can uhh can I help you with anything?” 

Your neighbor, you think you remember his name is Luca, nods and seems to remember the reason why he knocked on your door in the first place. “Yeah sorry, I was wondering if maybe you have a few eggs for me? I haven't managed to do any proper grocery shopping yet due to the stress of moving house and I just finished my workout. Need to get some protein in.”

His answer makes you grin inwardly. Of course, he's a gym bro. Jimin would have a field day making fun of him for that response alone.

“Sure, wait a second. I’ll get them.” You close your door, leaving a small crack open, as you head back into your apartment to get the eggs. It's odd that the door is now wide open when you return, and your neighbor is peering inside with curious eyes.

His gaze then falls on you as you come closer and hand him the box, which he takes with gratitude but he’s not making any moves to leave yet. “Your apartment looks just like mine, but mirrored,” he says, more or less just stating the obvious. 

“Yes, they’re pretty much all built the same.” 

You don’t want to be rude, but you wish he would leave now. Small talk isn’t your strongest suit and you still don’t feel comfortable in your current attire especially when your opponent is very handsome even in just a simple tank top and joggers. Unfortunately for you, he seems to be a friendly one, so you think it can't hurt to be friendly as well. You're neighbors now, so you'll be seeing and talking to each other more often anyway. No need to immediately show him how secluded you usually are.

“So… have you settled in yet?”

His face immediately brightens at your question and you feel a bit of sympathy. It must be hard to move to a new city where you don't know anyone yet. Although this does sound like your ideal dream, he seems like he's happy to be able to talk to someone here.

“I have. I really like it here so far.” He smiles, looking genuine. “I’ll start my new job after the holidays and I guess that is going to be a challenge, but I still have a few days until then to really settle in some more. It'll be fine.”

You spent some more time to talk and get to know him a bit and you learn that he's really quite nice, if a little too flirty at times. Not like Jimin and also not like Jungkook but in a different way that is sometimes a little bit too much for you. But it could also be because he's still a stranger to you and you don't know exactly how to deal with it. All in all, he seems fine and you're glad that someone like him has the apartment next to yours. 

As you laugh at something he said, someone enters the front door of your apartment building. You don’t pay much attention to it at first. Out of the corner of your eye, the person in the black hood looks familiar, but you assume it’s just another neighbor coming home.

Sensing the person approaching, you both finally turn to look in his direction. Even with the hood pulled down low over his face, you recognize him immediately.

Hearing the sound of your laughter, Jimin tilts his head up. His eyes lock onto you for a moment before glancing over at your new next-door neighbor with a raised brow.

“What are you doing here this late? I thought you had a family thing going on,” you gasp, momentarily forgetting your companion as your focus shifts to Jimin. At first glance, he appears a bit worn and tired, making you wonder if something happened, considering he should be at the Park family residence by now.

“I uh…“ he starts, sighing before he offers you a small smile. “Long story, actually. Can I come in?”

His hesitant reply makes you wary but you don't yet comment on it and give him a bit more space to enter your apartment. “Of course, come in.”

Jimin squeezes in next to you, and in your astonishment, you completely forget about Luca until you hear him clear his throat to make himself known.

“So, um, see you around, I guess?” he says with a chuckle, a bit uncomfortable. You immediately feel guilty about your rudeness. It seems wrong to abruptly cut off your conversation, but you don't want to make Jimin wait, and it's getting late. So, you offer Luca an apologetic smile and nod before wishing him a good night, which he returns.

Once inside, you find Jimin already raiding your fridge. “Who was that?” He asks nonchalantly when he notices you behind him. 

“Hm? Oh, no one,” you wave off, more interested in why he’s here. But then you suddenly notice something. “Oh my God, what happened to your hand?” You gasp as you examine his swollen, bruised hand.

“Mijoo and Dickface broke up,” he says, not seeming the slightest bit phased.

“What?” you exclaim. “Did you hit him? Jimin, he’s seventeen! He’s a minor!”

“He broke her heart, I broke his nose.” He shrugs carelessly. “Sounds fair to me.“

You can't believe how uninterested he is in such a situation. “You could get in so much trouble for this you big idiot,” you scoff.

“I know. My dad yelled at me for an hour. You don’t need to remind me. And still, I’d do it again,” he shrugs. “He shouldn’t have hurt her. I warned him from the start not to mess with her.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to let everything sink in for a moment before you sigh. Focus on the important things first. "How is she?" 

"I didn't talk to her much. When I got home, she was crying. As soon as I learned what had happened, I went to see Chanyeol. When I returned home, my parents blocked me and screamed at me until I left voluntarily. And now I'm here," he explains, chugging a big glass of water in almost one go.

“You’re unbelievable.“

“Unbelievably hot?“ He grins, unmistakably trying to lift the mood a little. 

“Unbelievably stupid,” you object. “What if he or his parents decide to report this? It won't look good on your resume. And if it gets around town with your father's business partners, have you considered that?“

He doesn’t respond, but the frown on his face shows that he clearly hasn’t thought about it.

“Look, no matter what you have to say, I promise you my dad has already said it,“ he sighs, gripping the empty glass tightly in his hand before placing it on the counter. “I appreciate your concern for my future, but I didn't come here for another lecture. I came here to escape exactly that.”

You're about to tell him that you don't care and that you're still going to lecture him all you want when you notice how exhausted he looks. His hand appears to be hurting badly, given how much he winces whenever he tries to move his fingers.

And instead, you go soft.

“Show me your hand,“ you demand, trying not to let on that you care a bit too much.

He looks up from it surprised but doesn’t make a move as he shakes his head. “Ah, it’s not that bad—“

“Jimin.“ You call out in a warning tone. “Let me see.“ 

He sighs but reluctantly offers you his hand so you can inspect it. It’s swollen, and the skin around his knuckles is slightly torn, but other than that, it doesn’t seem too serious. “You’re lucky; it doesn't appear to be broken,” you say, glancing up into his eyes and noticing that he’s already looking at you.

You take a moment to grab a cold pack from your freezer, wrap it in a cloth, and place it in Jimin's hand. “This should work for now. Well, it’s all I can do anyway.”

“Thanks,” he replies, giving you a kind smile, though it’s clear there’s something else on his mind. You decide to press him for more information.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Would it be okay if I stayed the night?” he asks hesitantly. “Things got a bit heated at home, so I left without my stuff. As far as I know, the guys aren’t home tonight, so I wouldn’t be able to get into my place either.”

You didn't expect him to leave in the first place, and since you have no plans, you tell him that his request isn't a problem for you. 

Jimin looks incredibly relieved when he realizes he doesn't have to go back to his parent's house—at least for today. You're glad to be able to give him that. Even if he can be annoying, you wouldn't just let him run off in such a situation.

“So, you canceled a romantic weekend at the beach and the exclusive chance to see me lying in the sun, shirtless and sweaty, for this?” He suddenly asks, gesturing to your baggy pajamas, the fluffy blanket, and the now cold tea on your little coffee table.

You'd rather interrogate him about what happened at his parents' house than engage in that type of banter again, but you recognize that he clearly doesn't want to discuss it and is trying to lighten the mood.

“Looks like it,” you shrug. “Thanks for interrupting my plans for the evening.” 

He lets out a soft, humorless laugh, his eyes intensely focused on your face. “Yeah, seemed like I was interrupting indeed.”

Taken aback by his sudden use of a sassy tone, you raise a brow in question. “Excuse me?” You ask, copying his tone. “Is there anything you have to say?”

“It was just an observation. That’s all.” He pretends not to care, but you know him better than that. 

“Oh.” You smirk, enjoying the turn of events a little too much. “Look who’s jealous now.”

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?” He chuckles, looking nothing short of cocky while you watch him with a cheeky smile. 

“Just checking,” you shrug. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you mimic his earlier words, feeling superior for a total of three seconds before you’re pressed against the counter.

“And I think you’re very hot in your wrinkled, worn-out pajamas. What are we gonna do about that?” He’s testing you, his gaze slowly shifting from your eyes to your lips.

You can clearly feel his breath on your lips as he patiently waits for you to do the next step, which is a definite indicator that he’s too close. So you let your hands rest on his chest for a second, feeling his heartbeat steadily pound against it as he comes even closer. And then you lightly push him off and bring some much-needed space between you, leaving him confused and taken aback for a moment.

“You can take a shower if you want. I’m heading to bed soon, I’m tired,” you say, walking off without giving him as much as another look. 

But before you leave the room entirely, you halt and turn back around to see him standing there, still in the same position, looking rather confused. “Jimin?” You call his name to get his attention. 

When his eyes find yours just a beat later, you continue. “What happened between us a couple days ago,” you start. “It was a one-time thing. And it won’t happen again,” you clarify. 

Jimin’s expression is somewhat dumbfounded at first but he quickly covers it up with his typical smirk and a leisurely nod. “I know. Relax.” 

Then you turn away, leaving him to take a shower while you are left with your thoughts.

It seems that spending nights with Jimin has slowly become a regular occurrence, and it's surprising how little this seems to bother you. Sharing a bed with him has never felt strange, and you can’t quite explain why.

Normally it should be strange, right?

But he's lying here, next to you in your bed in nothing but his briefs. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating towards you, you can smell his freshly showered body, and you can hear him breathe. And it's pleasant. It's nice. 

“He has a crush on you.“ Jimin’s voice silently rings through the dark room, keeping you from your thoughts.

You lift yourself up on one arm and glance over your shoulder. You can’t see him clearly, but he appears to be lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. He turns his head to look at you as well.

“Your neighbor,“ he clarifies, taking your silence as a clue that you don’t know who he is talking about.

You laugh humored, shaking your head. “A crush. Are we twelve?“ 

“He's interested in you. Clearly.“ 

You roll your eyes and then fall back onto your back, rolling over. He hasn't even met him—only caught a glimpse for a total of ten seconds without exchanging a word—and yet he is already making assumptions?

“Don’t be ridiculous. He was asking for eggs,“ you explain. “And I'm not his type.“ 

“What is that supposed to mean?“ he mocks, acting as if he couldn’t imagine why you wouldn’t be his type.

“You know what that’s supposed to mean,“ you say tiredly. 

“That you aren’t ready to trade chili cheese nuggets with unseasoned chicken breast?“ He asks, making you internally laugh for knowing he'd make fun of Luca for being a gym rat.

“Exactly.“ 

He hums, seemingly agreeing with you. 

You're on the brink of sleep, when he talks again. “But would you let him hit?“ 

“Jimin!“ You gasp, suddenly wide awake again at his bold question.

“What? It’s a fair question. You don’t have to date someone to sleep with them.“ 

“That is none of your business and I’m not answering that. Good night.“ 

He doesn’t say more for a while and you think you made it when suddenly, “He probably doesn’t even know where the clit is.“ 

You groan, getting up without further ado, making him sit up in a matter of seconds as well. 

“Where are you going?“ he asks, almost panicky.

“Away from you. I'll sleep on the couch.“ 

You don’t get very far before a hand gently wraps around your wrist, pulling you into his body. His arms then encircle your waist, and he playfully lifts you up, only to throw—yes, literally throw—you back onto your warm bed, causing you to shriek out a laugh.

“Don’t even think about it, babygirl. You‘re stuck with me tonight.“ 

You‘re still laughing when his fingers softly brush against the skin of your stomach as he clings himself to you and cuddles you right into his chest, literally spooning you and holding you too tightly for you to try and make another escape.

“You're not thinking about sleeping like this are you?“ 

“Just for tonight,“ he murmurs into your ear, his breath tickling the skin on your neck and making goosebumps appear all over your body once again. You pray he doesn’t notice but he at least doesn't comment on it.

“I'm badly injured,“ he reasons.

“Badly injured him?“ You snicker.

Jimin hums softly again, appearing noticeably sleepier than he did just a couple of minutes ago.

“I warn you, Park, if I wake up with your boner poking my ass, I‘ll never talk to you again,“ you warn him. There's no answer anymore so you adjust yourself and make yourself comfortable to finally get some sleep.

The next morning, you wake up alone in your bed, confused by the cold air and the noises coming from somewhere in your apartment. Since you live alone, you wonder why you’re hearing these sounds while you’re still in bed. Then, you remember last night and realize that you fell asleep with Jimin but woke up without him. You assume the noises are coming from him, which is why you’re not worried about the possibility of an intruder for now.

With a groan that resembles the sound of someone emerging from a coffin, you slowly turn over and glance at your phone, only to realize that you’ve overslept. 

Not that you had any plans for your day off, but it’s surprising nonetheless. You feel as if you’ve slept through an entire month. Completely disoriented, you stagger to the bathroom to take a shower and freshen up. When you come out, you finally feel like a functioning member of society again.

In the kitchen, Jimin is already making pancakes for you. Or at least that's what it looks like.

“Good morning,“ you greet him, wrapping your still-wet hair in a bun to prevent it from wetting the floor and the back of your shirt. “You’re making breakfast?“ The astonishment in your voice comes mainly from the fact that Jimin never cooks. He often orders, but cooking? Never. You always thought he was just as untalented as you in this department, or at least just as lazy.

“You don’t have shit in your kitchen,“ he murmurs with a tone that reeks of judgment. “Do you only ever eat when I take care of it?“ 

“Well, I had eggs,“ you try to defend yourself. “But yea, pretty much.“

Jimin's look reminds you a little too much of your mother. You try to soothe him with your best, most innocent smile, which earns you a smile back, coupled with a slight shake of his head.

“Some pancake mixture and half a liter of orange juice. How are you even able to survive?“

You grab one of the already-baked pancakes and start biting into it. Not caring about it still being a little hot.

“I just haven't managed to go grocery shopping yet. I’ll do it later, don’t worry.“

“I sure hope so.“

You grin, happily nibbling on your pancake and taking another one in your hand as you sit down at the kitchen table. “How did you sleep?“ 

“Like a baby. But I suppose not as good as you. I put a mirror under your nose half an hour ago to see if you're still alive.“

You laugh at that. That really must have been one long, deep sleep you had.

“Thank you again for last night. I wouldn’t have known where to go without you.” He looks over at you a little bashfully for a moment.

You dismiss it with a wave, as it's really no big deal to you. He hasn't been a stranger for a long time and you don’t feel uncomfortable with him around. “It goes without saying.“

He gives you a warm smile as he sits across from you, enjoying his own pancake. “When I finally gather the courage to go home and get my money, I’ll return the favor with a meal that’s a bit more... nutritious.”

You watch him closely. Even though it was meant as a joke, the situation with his family clearly weighs heavily on his mind.

“Don't worry too much about it. Your sister will get over it soon,“ you try and reassure him. “And your parents too. I may have exaggerated a bit last night. The guy is too cowardly to do anything about it, I'm sure.“

Jimin smiles at that and nods, appreciating you trying to make him feel better.

"That doesn't mean I approve of what you did. In my eyes, you're still foolish for it," you say, wiping the smile off his lips and replacing it with a slight pout that makes you smirk. "How is your hand?"

He lifts it up and wiggles his fingers a few times, which seems to work without much pain. It's still a bit swollen and red at the knuckles but looks much better than it did last night.

“It’s better. However, I didn't expect anything less given the kind care and attention I received from you.” Jimin grins, looking just as happy with it as you are.

You snort, accepting the compliment with a sense of pride, even though you know you didn't do much to deserve it.

You both finish your makeshift breakfast and clean up what needs to be done. Afterward, Jimin tells you that he is slowly getting ready to go home and collect his belongings. He hopes that no one will be there at this time and that they might have gone on their vacation without him, but he knows that’s just wishful thinking. His parents might be upset, but they are the type of parents who prefer to talk about their problems and work through them instead of avoiding topics and staying angry forever. 

In your eyes, that sounds like a healthy relationship, and you wish it had always been like that in your own home. Although he complains a lot, you know he genuinely appreciates his parents and their approach. It's the confrontation he dreads. You can't blame him for that.

Jimin has just stepped into the bathroom when another knock sounds at your door. This time, it isn't a surprise to see your neighbor standing there with a carton of what you assume are freshly bought eggs.

With a radiant, handsome smile that looks straight out of a magazine, he stands before you. “Good morning! I went for a run and picked up some groceries on the way.”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t have to do that. Let’s just say the eggs were a welcome gift,” you grin, taking the carton from his hands and thanking him.

Before he can respond, Jimin suddenly appears behind you, catching him off guard. “You’re a little late. Would have been nice for breakfast,” he mocks, eyeing the small carton in your hands.

Luca halts, his blue eyes wandering confusedly between you and Jimin. It's almost funny how you can literally see little gears turning in his head as he makes the connection. “Uh, sorry.“

“No, don’t worry about it. And don’t mind him, please.“ you apologize, sending Jimin a warning look that goes unnoticed by him. “He’s not a morning person.“

Ignoring your comment, Jimin steps closer to you at the door. “Okay, I'm off now. Wish me luck.” Before you have a chance to respond, he turns your head toward him and kisses you. It's intentionally provocative, especially with your neighbor watching.

The whole situation naturally creates an awkward atmosphere between the two of you after Jimin has left, so you smile at him, silently hoping he will leave as well. 

Fortunately, he excuses himself almost immediately, saying that he has more errands to run, which you find very relieving. 

You reflect once again on what Jimin told you last night—he thinks your neighbor has a crush on you. While you can't say you share his opinion and you definitely don't have the same interest in him, the thought still makes you feel a bit giddy. 

A/N: Penny for your thoughts pretty please?

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things | @cuteinjapanese | @leticiaesteveslp | @jkkkkkay | @miss-rainy-days | @bangtan4everr | @i-never-post-but-i-am-here | @dumdaradumdaradum | @thesmeraldogirl | @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin | @ownthesunshine

[chimcess]

— Waterlog: the masterlist

“After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin.”

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

Extras: the playlist

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[jeonjayykkayy]

Her

pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Romance/ Angst/ Drama/ SlowBurn

Words- Approx. 3500

Chapter 0.1

Author's perspective

The air inside their small apartment was thick with humidity, the summer heat suffocating, but Jungkook had long stopped noticing it. His mother lay on the old mattress in the corner, her frail body curled up beneath a thin sheet.

Her breathing was steady, but he could hear the slight wheeze in her exhales, a painful reminder of her worsening health.

He crouched beside her, adjusting the damp cloth on her forehead. She stirred slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

He knew what she would say if she had the strength.

"Eat, Jungkook. You haven't eaten."

But he had nothing to eat.

Jimin’s voice broke the silence.

"The job is real. They confirmed it."

Jungkook exhaled, standing up.

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

A chance to make money. To keep his mother alive.

But at what cost?

*--------------------------------------------------*

Y/N’s Perspective

The scent of jasmine and expensive perfume clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

The grand chandelier above me cast a golden glow over the massive entrance hall, where the final preparations for the evening were being made.

Staff hurried about, their polished shoes tapping against the marble floors, voices hushed but urgent.

The entire mansion was buzzing with energy, yet amidst the chaos, I felt nothing.

Tonight was supposed to be special.

A celebration.

A grand announcement of my wedding to Kim Namjoon, a man who was perfect in every way except the one that mattered—he wasn’t the man I loved.

Not that I had anyone else in my heart. But love had never been part of this equation.

I stared at my reflection in the towering mirror across the hall.

The dress my mother had chosen for me was breathtaking, its silky fabric flowing like water against my skin.

The shade of deep navy was meant to highlight my elegance, my status, and my worth.

I was a jewel—ornamented and displayed for the world to see.

My mother stood beside me, fixing the bracelet on her wrist, her expression calm, and pleased.

“You look stunning, my dear.”

I turned my gaze to her, searching for something—anything—that might show an ounce of genuine concern for me.

But she was unreadable, her carefully maintained face betraying nothing.

“It’s just one night,”

she continued, her tone light as if we were discussing a dress rather than the rest of my life.

“Smile. Enjoy the attention. You’re about to become the envy of every woman in Korea.”

Every woman except me.

A sigh slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

“I don’t see why this has to be so extravagant. A simple dinner would have been enough.”

My father, who had been adjusting his cufflinks near the entrance, turned his sharp gaze toward me.

“You underestimate the importance of appearances, Y/N. This isn’t just about your wedding. It’s about legacy, business, power.”

He buttoned his suit jacket, his tone firm.

“You will be marrying into the Kim family. A small dinner is not enough for a match of this magnitude.”

Of course. It was never about me. Never about what I wanted.

It was about power. Business. Legacy.

I pressed my nails into my palm, holding back the sharp words that threatened to escape.

There was no point in arguing. My parents had never listened before. They weren’t about to start now.

A butler approached, bowing slightly.

“Sir, Madam, the cars are ready.”

My mother smiled.

“Good. Let’s not keep our guests waiting.”

I followed them outside, my footsteps silent against the polished floors.

The air was crisp, a gentle night breeze swirling through the grand estate.

The line of sleek black cars waited for us in the driveway, their tinted windows hiding us from the world.

My father took my mother’s hand and led her into the first car. I was expected to follow, to step into this night like a willing participant in my own fate.

Instead, I hesitated.

Just for a second.

The thought of running whispered through my mind, a fleeting fantasy.

What if I just… left? Disappeared into the night, away from the suffocating expectations, away from a marriage built on greed?

But reality crashed down just as quickly.

Where would I go?

I had never been alone. Never been without the careful watch of my family’s security.

Even now, I could feel their eyes on me, waiting for me to move.

My mother’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Y/N, get in the car.”

I clenched my jaw, swallowing back the ache rising in my throat.

And then I stepped inside.

The leather seats were cool beneath my skin as I settled in, my hands twisting together in my lap.

My parents sat across from me, their conversation shifting toward business, numbers, and connections.

They didn’t speak of love.

Didn’t speak of happiness.

Because those things didn’t matter in this world.

The car pulled away from the mansion, gliding smoothly through the city streets.

My mother was checking her reflection in her compact mirror, making small comments about how important tonight was for our reputation.

My father was on his phone, murmuring in low tones to some business associate.

I sat in silence, watching the city blur past the window.

Seoul had never looked so foreign.

The bright lights, the towering buildings, the streets filled with life—none of it felt real to me anymore.

I was being driven toward a future I didn’t choose, wrapped in luxury that felt like a chain around my neck.

The closer we got to the yacht, the heavier my chest felt.

I didn’t love Namjoon.

I didn’t hate him either.

But the idea of standing beside him, pretending to be a woman in love, smiling for cameras, accepting congratulations for a fate I had no control over—it made my stomach twist with unease.

The car finally slowed as we neared the harbor. From the window, I could see it.

The yacht.

Massive. Blindingly elegant under the golden lights. A symbol of excess, of wealth, of the life I had been born into.

A life I could never escape.

As the car door opened and my parents stepped out, I forced a breath into my lungs, steadying myself.

One night.

Just one night.

And then I would return to pretending I was fine.

I lifted my chin, stepped out of the car, and walked toward my fate.

*----------------------------------------------*

Author's perspective

The following evening, Jungkook and Jimin stood at the docks, staring up at the massive yacht that would soon be filled with the richest people in the country.

He had never been this close to something so extravagant.

The sight made something twist inside him—resentment, maybe. Or exhaustion.

Jimin nudged him.

"Don't mess this up. We can't afford to get kicked out."

Jungkook rolled his shoulders.

"I know."

Their employer, a middle-aged man in an expensive suit, eyed them critically before handing them their uniforms.

"You’re here to serve, not be seen. If I hear even one complaint about either of you, you're out."

Jungkook said nothing. He had learned long ago that silence was a safer weapon than words.

As they boarded the yacht, stepping into a world so far from their own, Jungkook told himself that this was just another job.

Another means to survive.

He had no idea his life was about to change forever.

*--------------------------------------------------------*

Y/N’s Perspective

The golden glow of the setting sun melted into the endless ocean, casting long shadows over the luxurious yacht.

The cool breeze danced across my skin as I walked along the polished wooden deck, the gentle hum of laughter and conversations floating from the main hall behind me.

Inside, my parents were busy entertaining Korea’s elite, basking in the limelight of their perfectly crafted world.

But out here, away from the weight of expectations, I could finally breathe.

I let my fingers trace along the sleek railings, staring out at the vast expanse of water.

The deep blue stretched on forever, reminding me of something I had longed for but never reached—freedom.

A small sigh escaped my lips.

I should be inside, smiling, playing the role of the perfect daughter, the perfect fiancée.

But I needed a moment, just a little bit of time to myself before the night swallowed me whole.

As I turned to explore further, my hand instinctively went to the ring on my finger—the engagement ring. The symbol of my future.

And then—

It slipped.

I felt it before I saw it. The cool weight disappearing from my finger, a glint of gold tumbling down, down, down—

My breath hitched.

The ring hit the deck below, bouncing once before coming to a stop near the feet of a man dressed in a white uniform, his sleeves slightly rolled up, revealing strong forearms.

My heart lurched.

Without thinking, I stepped closer to the edge, gripping the railing tightly as I leaned over, eyes wide in horror.

No, no, no.

That ring—it wasn’t just any ring. It was my engagement ring, the very thing my mother had made sure was designed to perfection, the very thing that symbolized my fate. If I lost it…

Panic rose in my chest.

The man below bent down, his fingers brushing over the ring before he picked it up.

He stood slowly, the sun casting a golden halo around his figure.

And then, he looked up.

The world—everything—stilled.

His gaze met mine, dark and intense, holding an unreadable depth that sent a strange shiver down my spine.

Though I didn’t know his name yet, I knew—something had changed in that moment.

The way he stared at me, as if I were something delicate, something mesmerizing, something he wasn’t meant to see but couldn’t look away from.

Time seemed to stretch between us, the distance no longer just a physical space but something far deeper. I could feel his stare tracing the curves of my face, lingering on my lips before flickering back to my eyes.

I swallowed.

A soft gust of wind blew a strand of hair across my cheek, and still, he didn’t move.

Still, he held my ring.

I took a sharp breath, breaking the spell, and without a second thought, I ran.

Jungkook’s Perspective

The weight of the ring in my hand was nothing compared to the weight of her gaze.

For a man who had spent his life struggling to find stability, to find a way to survive, he had never believed in fate.

But now, holding this small piece of gold, watching the woman above look down at him with those piercing, desperate eyes—he wasn’t so sure anymore.

She was breathtaking.

The kind of beauty that wasn’t just seen but felt.

Jungkook had never been the type to lose focus during work, but at that moment, everything else faded into the background.

He didn’t know her name.

Didn’t know her voice.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to.

His fingers tightened around the ring as he felt his heart pound against his ribs.

The way she leaned over the railing, the way the sunlight kissed her skin, the way her breath hitched—it did something to him.

And then, she was gone.

He blinked as she disappeared from the deck above, and before he could even process it, he saw her—running.

Towards him.

Y/N’s Perspective

My heartbeat was erratic as my heels clicked against the polished floors, my dress swishing with each hurried step.

I had to get my ring back.

I didn’t know why my hands were slightly trembling. Was it because of my mother? Because if she saw I lost it, she’d lash out? Or was it something else?

Something about the way he had looked at me.

I pushed the thought away and focused on finding him.

The lower deck was quieter, reserved for staff and workers, but I didn’t care. I followed the path down the steps, my breath uneven.

And then—

There he was.

Standing near the edge of the deck, the wind tousling his dark hair, the ring still between his fingers.

He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to be here.

I took a step closer, clearing my throat.

“That’s… my ring.”

His fingers twitched, as if he had forgotten he was holding it. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak.

Why was he staring at me like that?

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Can I have it back?”

Silence.

He still didn’t move.

A part of me wanted to snap my fingers in front of his face, but for some reason, I didn’t. Instead, I watched as something flickered behind his eyes—something unreadable, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, his lips curved.

A small smile.

Almost… amused.

As if he knew something I didn’t.

As if he had just discovered something precious.

His fingers finally loosened, and he extended the ring toward me.

But the moment I reached for it, our fingers brushed.

A spark shot up my arm, and I immediately pulled back, my breath hitching.

His eyes darkened slightly at the reaction, as if he had felt it too.

I quickly snatched the ring from his palm, curling my fingers around it.

“Thank you,”

I murmured, avoiding his gaze.

But he was still smiling.

A knowing, unreadable smile.

And just before I could turn and leave, he finally spoke.

“You’re welcome.”

His voice was deep, smooth, laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

I glanced at him one last time, a strange feeling settling in my stomach before I turned and walked away.

But even as I left, I could feel it.

His stare.

And for some reason, I knew—

This wouldn’t be the last time we met.

Jungkook’s Perspective

She left.

The sound of her footsteps faded into the chatter and laughter of people dressed in expensive silk and diamonds.

Yet, even as the crowd swallowed her presence, she remained with me—like a lingering scent, like a whisper of something I shouldn’t reach for.

I looked down at my palm, the warmth of her fingers still burning against my skin even though she was gone.

The ring.

She had snatched it back the moment I handed it to her, but the imprint of it—of her—stayed behind.

I could still picture her face, the slight crease in her brows, the way she had parted her lips just slightly before she spoke.

I should move. I should get back to work.

But for the first time in a long time, I found myself frozen in place.

“Jungkook!”

The sharp voice jolted me back to reality. A staff member stood a few feet away, an impatient frown on his face.

“Stop standing there. You’re needed back on the main deck.”

I blinked, shaking off whatever trance I had fallen into.

Right. Work.

With a sharp breath, I turned away from the spot where she had stood just moments ago and forced my feet to move.

By the time I found Jimin in the storage room, my thoughts still hadn’t settled.

He was leaning against a crate, rolling up his sleeves as he worked through a pile of wine bottles.

The dim yellow lighting cast a glow over his tired face, but he still managed to look at me with an unimpressed expression the moment I stepped inside.

“You look weird.”

I frowned.

“What?”

Jimin grabbed a bottle, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

“I said, you look weird.”

He twisted off the cork and took a deep sniff.

“Your face is all tight. You look like you either saw a ghost or fell in love.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t be stupid.”

He smirked.

“So, which one is it?”

I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face. “I just… ran into someone.”

Jimin stilled for a moment before setting the bottle down with a soft thud.

He turned to me fully, crossing his arms.

“And?”

I hesitated. And what? And I suddenly forgot how to breathe? And for a split second, I felt something I haven’t felt in years?

Instead, I shook my head.

“Nothing. Just a guest.”

Jimin studied me, eyes sharp.

Then, without warning, he reached out and grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks together like I was a damn child.

“You’re making that face.”

I swatted his hands away.

“What face?”

“The one you make when your brain is running a hundred miles per hour.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Did you get yelled at or something?”

I exhaled.

“No, I—”

I paused.

“It was her.”

Jimin frowned. “Her?”

“The bride-to-be.”

His entire expression dropped.

“Oh, shit.”

I looked away.

Jimin groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Jungkook, no.”

I sighed.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yet.”

I shot him a glare, but he only threw his hands in the air.

“She’s getting married. You know she’s getting married, right?”

I clenched my jaw.

“I know.”

“Then don’t look at me like that,”

he muttered.

“Like you’re already gone.”

I exhaled, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”

I admitted, my voice quieter.

“It’s just… she’s different.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes.

“Different how?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t just her face, or the way she moved. It was the way she looked at me.”

Jimin sighed.

“Jungkook…”

“She didn’t look at me like I was a nobody.”

Silence.

Jimin’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he didn’t say anything for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

I swallowed.

“I know.”

“People like her and people like us…”

He exhaled.

“We don’t belong in the same world.”

I knew that. I had always known that.

But then why was my heart still beating like this?

Jimin’s expression softened, but his voice remained firm.

“She’s going to marry a man with power. A man who can change lives with a single word. You… you’re just trying to survive.”

I let out a humourless chuckle.

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m just telling you what you need to hear.”

I stayed quiet.

Jimin let out another sigh, rubbing his temples.

“Jungkook… listen. I know how you get when you want something.”

I looked up at him.

“You start believing in hope.”

His voice was softer now.

“And I don’t want to see that hope crush you.”

I clenched my fists.

He wasn’t wrong.

Jimin reached out and clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Just… promise me something.”

I swallowed.

“What?”

He met my eyes.

“Don’t fall for her.”

Silence.

I didn’t answer.

Because we both knew I already had.

*------------------------------------------------*

Y/N’s Perspective

I walked away, my fingers curled tightly around the ring as if it would slip away again. My heart was pounding—faster than it should.

It didn’t make sense. It was just an accident, just a moment where I had to retrieve something that belonged to me.

But why did it feel like I left something behind instead?

I tried to shake off the feeling, stepping past the staff moving around the deck.

The scent of the ocean mixed with the faint aroma of champagne and expensive perfumes, a reminder of the world I belonged to.

A world where emotions like these had no place.

I pressed the ring back onto my finger, staring at the diamond that sparkled under the sunlight. This was real.

My engagement, my future—everything had already been decided. I had no right to be distracted by a man whose name I didn’t even know.

And yet…

His eyes.

The way he had looked at me.

It wasn’t admiration, nor was it the kind of shallow interest I was used to. It was something else—something that made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t understand.

I reached the main deck, where the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder.

My mother was speaking to an important guest, her voice smooth and practised, her smile carefully measured. My father stood nearby, discussing business with someone equally as wealthy.

They hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. This is where I belong. This is the life I was meant to live.

“Y/N.”

I turned at the familiar voice.

Namjoon.

He stood there, dressed in an elegant suit, his presence as composed as ever.

There was something comforting about him—something safe. And yet, even as he smiled at me, a small part of me hesitated before returning it.

“Where were you?”

he asked, his gaze briefly dropping to my hand, where the ring now rested securely.

I hesitated for only a second before lying.

“Just getting some fresh air.”

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded and offered his arm.

“Come. The announcement is about to begin.”

I took his arm, allowing him to lead me forward.

And yet, as I moved through the crowd, surrounded by everything I was supposed to want…

My mind was still somewhere else.

Author’s Note ✨

💬 "Their meeting was just the beginning. But fate isn’t always kind. Chapter 2 coming soon...💜"

[interesting-interludes]

the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door. 

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

[sopejinsunflower]

2024.001.021: Into The Deep End

Go to series masterlist

____________________________________________________________

“Babe, what are you waiting for?”

As usual, Nick always went in first, leaving me standing at the edge of the lake, toes curling around the flat rocks beneath my feet, watching him with narrowed eyes as he swam further and further away. I took a tentative step forward and then another, the water slowly rising up until it hit the back of my knees, as slowly as the fear that grew in my chest. 

“Nick!” I called out at the distant splashing I assumed was him. His head popped out and grinned ear to ear. He shook his head like a wet dog and waved me over. “Come on over here. Don’t be a baby,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

“You know I can’t swim,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I’ll just stay here. You go on ahead.”

Nick swam back and I watched the way his strong arms stroke through the water making his way to me. He stood up in front of me, shaking water from his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. Here.” He put my arms around his shoulders. “Get on my back.”

I tried to pull away. “No, I’m fine. You can go-”

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss. Get on.”

I hesitated but Nick didn’t bother to wait, as usual, pulling me onto his back and grabbing onto my thighs to pull me up securely. “Deep breaths, baby,” he ordered and without another warning, he dove into the water.  

The cool water hit my face and I tensed up, hearing the distant alarm bells ringing in my head. My eyes stung and I closed them, albeit too late. Nick swam fast, his legs kicking behind him as he dragged me through the dark water of the lake. My chest burnt and I struggled to hold my breath. I signalled to Nick to go up, tapping on his shoulder urgently but when he didn’t get the message, I started shaking him more forcefully. 

But Nick continued on, swimming forward and almost as if he was going even faster. I could feel the panic setting in at the thought of how far from the shallow end we must have gone, but more importantly of how dark it seemed to be. It was ridiculous but it felt like I was being pulled down to the depths of it, a sudden feeling of being trapped overwhelming me. At that point, all I wanted was to get off of him, the alarm bells now screaming in my head telling me that being attached to his back was much more dangerous than the water. I didn’t feel safe with him. 

I must have tightened my grip against Nick’s neck because now he was the one struggling, pushing against my arms. But in that moment, it felt like he wanted me to let go so I’d sink to the bottom of the lake, gone forever, a way for him to get rid of me quick and easy and with less of a mess. I held on tighter, feeling his Adam’s apple somewhat digging into my arm now and this time Nick was literally fighting me off, prying my arms with one hand while trying to stay afloat. 

My survival instinct kicked in and I was latched on to him like some kind of parasite, unknowingly choking him to death while at the same time believing that he was the one trying to kill me. Bubbles escaped both our lips and I heard him shout something under the water. It took him awhile before he resurfaced, both of us spluttering and gasping for air.

“Let go of me!”

His strength outmatched mine and he finally managed to pry me off. It was when my butt hit the rocky ground that I noticed we were already by the shore with families and groups of friends and couples staring at me looking like an almost drowned rat being berated, which is not far from the truth, I thought.

“Crazy bitch!” Nick spat before he stormed off towards the car, cursing under his breath. 

~~~

Jin is the type of person that would do his best to keep all the bad memories away. He likes to focus on the good so it makes everything else more bearable, so when you asked him that question, his mind just went completely blank. 

“Jin?” you urge, shaking him a little, your nails digging into his skin. 

He blinks, his gear kicking in. “Let’s get out of here first,” he says, gently guiding you out of the space inside the wall. His mouth feels dry and his tongue is now a block of sandpaper. He keeps his hands on you as you both walk downstairs, being hyper aware of the silken smooth material of your top, knowing that he’s only holding on to you to keep himself grounded. 

They run into Hoseok when they reach the second floor and one look at Jin is enough to alert the other man. That look, as well as your puffy red eyes. 

“What happened?” he approaches you and boldly tips your chin up to get a proper look at your face. “Are you okay?”

At the sheepish grin you give him, he turns to Jin. “Hyung?”

“I-” you start to say before clearing your throat and trying again. “I got stuck in the wall.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine!” you rush to add. “Jin found me. I’m okay.” You look at Jin and give his hand a squeeze. “We’re okay.”

Jin seems to suddenly realise where he is but his reaction surprises both himself and you. He lets go of your hand more abruptly than he intended, mumbles something neither you nor Hoseok could make out and then excuses himself. He walks away, down the stairs and then disappears from your sight even before you even think of what to say to stop him. You look back helplessly at Hoseok who shrugs his shoulders. 

“He’ll be okay,” he reassures, although the scowl on his face remains. He doesn’t look convinced himself. “He just…needs time.” Hoseok gently pulls you towards your bedroom. “Do you want to tell me what happened though?”

The memory resurfaces and you purse your lips. “I think I saw a memory.”

“Of?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think I drowned? A long time ago?”

You don’t have to look at Hoseok’s face to register first the subtle startle of his body going rigid and then the way his whole demeanour seemed to be clouded over, like a shadow had fallen over him and you. It was enough of an answer. Hoseok silently leads you back to your room, his soul feeling too heavy for his vessel as he recalled that awful memory. Has Jin confirmed it with you? Was he not able to? 

“Is Jin okay?” he hears you mutter.

Hoseok only gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, not saying the words out loud: I don’t know.

***

No, Jin is not okay. 

Namjoon catches a glimpse of him heading for one of the rooms where the liquor cabinet is. He doesn’t think much of it but a hunch made him get up from his seat and follow the older man. If only he knew what had transpired upstairs, maybe he would have quickened his steps because just as he enters the room, Jin is already holding a bottle of dark whiskey, the kind that people go for to numb pain you can’t physically see, the kind that painkillers don't work on. 

Only slightly curious, Namjoon quietly sits in one of the armchairs, opening up his book and pretending to read. Jin carries the crystal bottle towards the sliding door that leads to the back of the house and after a five-second pause, opens the door and goes outside. He doesn’t even acknowledge Namjoon in the room with him and that should’ve been the biggest warning flag. He should’ve easily noticed that Namjoon’s book is upside down.

See, the thing about living for centuries together, you develop a bond unlike any other that when something bad happens to one or the other, you’d feel it deep in your bones. Dread that starts from your bone marrow and seeps into your bloodstream, slowly poisoning you until even your own saliva tastes bitter as you swallow. That’s what Namjoon is experiencing now as he watches Jin’s back among the tall reeds as he goes further and further away towards the tree line. He might be able to feel the darkness but it’s nothing that he can confirm to be of any consequence. That’s what Hoseok is feeling, too, as he shuts your door quietly behind him. 

The foreboding impression that one of them is about to go into the deep end creeps down all six backs. It’s a familiar feeling, of course, one they learned to recognize easily now after much hard-learned lessons. Hoseok is in the middle of the staircase when Namjoon comes up to him, telling him what he already suspected. The question is, would he be able to reach the long forgotten waterfall?

Jimin and Jungkook argued that the pathway had been sealed, that it will be more than overgrown now. The waterfall itself would have disappeared, too, dried up as the environment changes. But Hoseok doesn’t want to hear logic or arguments; he wants to find Jin and bring him back. 

“He won’t come back,” Yoongi had said matter-of-factly. “You know he won’t. Not until he’s faced with it.” He’s ignoring the fact that Jin might not be sober, having faith that the eldest had always been the reasonable one. Jin won’t do anything stupid. Right?

“There’s no reason to go back there,” replied Namjoon, somewhat annoyed. He’s been pacing the floor, tugging at his hair from the roots. “We could’ve talked things out. What is he thinking?!”

Jungkook stands up, unable to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach. “I’m going after him. Before he hurts himself.”

The others agree and start preparing themselves. The sun is still high in the sky and there will still be a few more hours left before it gets dark but flashlights were among the things they packed. Just in case. As they’re about to leave the house, Jimin suddenly has half a mind to ask for your whereabouts. 

Hoseok answers, “She’s in her room, taking a nap.”

“No, she’s not.” They all look up to see Oliviera standing in the doorway with an annoyed look on her face. “She’s gone to take a walk. Left half an hour ago.” When they all stare back at her blankly, she scoffs, “It would be good if you start being more aware of your surroundings.” 

They watch her walk away, mumbling under her breath. The six men exchange looks, mouth slacking open and the blood draining from their faces as they realise too late where you are going. 

~~~

Death in itself is natural. A necessary thing to keep the cycle of life going.

It’s one thing to live multiple lives throughout the centuries because those lives don’t really blend together. They’re separate; separate people, separate stories, separate…me. But dying and being brought back to life is like having one foot through the door and it makes you somewhat wonder if all of you ever made it back to this side, or if a piece of you is lost forever. Gone through the abyss. The chasm. The other side, or whatever they call it. 

I trudge through the grass, heading to where I last saw Jin. I heard the others talk about how to handle him, how to talk to him, but none of them mentioned going after him. Maybe they understood to give Jin the space he needed but to me, needing space doesn’t quite equal to walking into the forest alone, empty-handed except for a bottle of Macallan. Somehow I knew deep in my heart that it’s got everything to do with me and if I didn’t bring him back to the house then we’re all doomed. It’s a funny notion but it felt like the truth. 

As I walk down the barely visible path, I keep thinking about having died by drowning. Neither Jin or Hoseok ever verbally confirmed if that happened but the look on their faces had been clear enough. Weirdly, it didn’t scare me but it does somehow, in a twisted way, explain my fear of water. It makes sense. A lot of people believe in incarnation and for traumas and scars of those lived lives to resurface in the current one is plausible. It aligns. Does it explain my fear of dark places, too? Or was that from a different life? I wouldn’t know until I know the circumstances of what had actually happened and the only one who can tell me that is the person I’m blindly following into the woods.

There used to be a waterfall somewhere in here, that much I heard from the boys’ conversation. If my hunch is correct (it feels more than a hunch, like a buzzing in my soul), then it’s exactly the place where it happened. But the deeper into the woods I go, the more the little path starts to fade out and then disappear altogether. I walk on a little more, stubborn from admitting that I am what I am: lost. Hopelessly lost in the woods. 

I heave a sigh, rotating in a small circle, looking around the tall trees. I consider my options: one, go back to the house and face the consequence of my stupid actions in the form of six angry men that I had walked out without a word or two, keep going and get even more lost and perhaps just die out there in the woods alone, eaten by a wolf or a bear. Fuck, I didn’t even consider the wild animals that could be living here. The dread sinks in and suddenly my surroundings feel ten times scarier. 

Hoseok is going to be so pissed. Jimin, too. The others would be disappointed that I worry them but those two won’t shy away from telling it how it is. 

Wait a minute. Neither of them have ever been angry with me. Was that a previous memory thing again? I let out a frustrating groan, holding my head in between both hands. At times like this, it just feels like I’m living in someone else’s skin, pretending to be someone I’m not. Everything feels not enough and too much at the same time, like trying to recall something that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue but never being able to remember, feeling like I should remember because they are my thoughts, my memories. My life. And yet, they’re not. Not quite.

Something soft brushes against my leg and I jump up, yelping. 

“Mreoww.”

“Karma!” I look at the cat in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

The cat’s twin tails swish vigorously, his eyes piercing mine. He walks ahead a few steps, tails sticking up straight in the air. He looks back once, eyes glinting with such knowledge it’s almost like I can hear him. Come. Follow me.

I watch Karma take a few more steps forward, stop and look back again. This time I got the message. 

“Take me to Jin,” I say, following behind him, knowing that he’s already doing exactly just that.

~~~

Seokjin is walking blindly, the bottle of whiskey he carried with him earlier gone a long time ago, flung to the foot of some random tree but not before he finished the last drop. 

He is very much drunk, swaying on his feet as the world tilts from side to side with every step. He feels hot and a little sick but it’s impressive how focused he is on reaching the destination he has set in his mind. Honestly, he didn’t mean to get this inebriated, that wasn’t his intention. He had only needed the dark fiery liquor as a means to not chicken out. It helped him give him the strength and courage he needed, albeit temporary. Now, he’s starting to regret going a little bit too far. 

The others will be angry, he has no doubt about it. Imagine that; the most level-headed of them is now tumbling through the woods looking for a place he hasn’t been to for decades, half out of his mind, literally, just to…what? What exactly is the reason for him searching for that damned waterfall? 

“Take me there, Jinnie,” you had pouted, stamping your feet a little like a kid. “I want to go for a swim, Jinnie. It’s perfect weather. Please, Jinnie.”

You had begged and whined and literally clung to him the whole week with that pretty pout on your face that Jin had more than once bent over to leave a peck or two, cheekily riling you on with a simple, “No, thank you” to your request before walking away. He blamed only himself for even speaking about the place a few weeks back when they had all talked about where to go now that summer was there. 

It was during dinner and among the suggestions of going to the beach or the lake in the next town over, Jin had casually said, “Why not the waterfall in our own backyard?” 

Obviously it was met with a lot of pushbacks. Namjoon and Yoongi are both convinced that it was too deep in the woods while Taehyung complained about mosquitoes. Jungkook mulled over the idea for a bit but Jimin reminded that it would be a hassle to lug all the picnic stuff through dense trees for miles. So it was agreed upon by the majority that it was not the best idea and it was dropped. Or so he thought. 

You, on the other hand, had broached the idea again that night before bed as you laced your fingers through his. It took everything in Jin to keep a serious face, reiterating what Jimin had said about it being too difficult to carry things there. He tried to discourage you with mosquito bites and it being humid and hours of trekking until you finally relented. For the night, that was.

But Jin isn’t much of a strong soldier when you are the opponent; then, now or ever. He finally gave in a week later (a record time, actually) with a compromise that it would be a date, just for the two of you to minimise items to carry. A hike, just you and Jin. You had tried to get Yoongi to come along too but he had been too busy with the roof repair. It had been raining a lot the past couple of weeks but the huge thunderstorm yesterday was the final straw that threatened to cave the roof in and he couldn’t procrastinate any longer now that there was a leak in the master bedroom, lest he wanted a swimming pool in the ceiling.

So Jin had spent hours in the early morning meticulously preparing the food. He had woken up at five in the morning, hardly sleepy but a little excited, against his better judgement. He wasn’t a hiking kind of person, that was Namjoon and occasionally Hoseok if the place was right. Jungkook had come down a little after six, woken by the smell of food only to stare into space in the middle of the kitchen before Jin ushered him back to bed with the promise that there would be extra left for when he was actually fully awake.

You came bounding into the kitchen a little earlier than he expected and you both packed everything together into a little rucksack, an attempt to keep your loads light. You rationalised that you didn’t need to pack a change of clothes because you could both just come back when you’re done. The trek back home would dry you off plenty so no need for towels either. Only one rucksack of food and a flask of juice and a picnic mat. Some cutleries and napkins. That was all. 

Jin could even still hear the promise you made to Yoongi as you left out the door, that you’ll both be back after lunchtime, that you’d help him with the roof after (Yoongi countering that no, that was not needed because he didn’t want you up on the roof with him, that Taehyung would be home to help instead so no worries, you can just enjoy yourselves). It was when he watched you wave goodbye to Yoongi that the heavy feeling crept in. But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have.

I took you here, he thinks now. It’s my fault. That stain on your soul, I put it there.

But going back to the place where it happened isn’t going to change anything but in the absence of sobriety, the logic eludes him. He’s not even sure why he’s heading there but he guesses that he just needs to see it. He hasn’t been there since it happened; neither of them had. They had tried to cover the pathway, blocking it from ever being accessed, but now, somehow, Jin’s feet are taking him there, oblivious to the tiny scratches along his calves and his arms, the stray branches nicking his neck and cheeks as he pushes through the growth. 

~~~

Being a cat means that Karma is gracefully moving through the undergrowth, leaving me stumbling behind him, desperate to keep up and not getting poked in the eye with a branch or whatnot.

The grasses are getting taller and I’m getting more and more anxious of coming across a snake or worse, stepping on one. But Karma doesn’t even seem wary; odd for a cat but then again he was an outdoor adventurer before I brought him in. Is this wood familiar to him?

The stupidity of the reality of following a cat crosses my mind more than a few times because how do I even know where he’s taking me? Why am I so sure that he’s leading me to Jin? Jin could’ve turned back around and I wouldn’t even know it, leaving me alone with the dumb idea to think that a cat is taking me where I want to go. But an innate feeling tells me I should trust the cat which keeps looking back at me every few minutes with those blue-yellow orbs of his as if making sure my two clumsy feet, as opposed to his lithe four, are keeping up fine. 

“Do you have to go so fast?” I ask exasperatedly after another branch whips into my face. Karma actually pauses, sits on a log and licks his front paw lazily. He gives me a judgemental look before turning around and bounding off. I roll my eyes. 

My focus is solely on finding Jin, so much so that I completely forgot about the other six back at the house who are currently, unbeknown to me, facing another bigger problem.

~~~

Jin arrives.

Nostalgia is a mind trick because the place isn’t as pretty as the memory in his head, albeit the bitter experience. The waterfall had dried up and the pond beneath it was murky and overgrown with water plants that almost covered the surface of the dark, dirty water. Jin can’t even fathom bringing you here on a picnic date. The place looks more like the heavy feeling in Jin’s chest whenever he thinks about that day he pulled you out of the water than the small piece of heaven he and Namjoon had pridefully boasted the day they found it. 

This place, like all of your past lives, had died.

Standing there, eyes glued to the middle of the dark pond, Jin is sucked into the memory he tries so hard to push to the back burner. He reasoned with himself every time that you were alright after all and everything was fine so he could let go, but the more he tries to forget, the guiltier he feels. It wasn’t just your heart that stopped beating for two minutes; his did, too. And it never beat right again after that, the rhythm wonky and jagged, at times like a bird in too small a cage. 

That part of you that died in the water, is it still there? If he goes into the water, would he be able to retrieve the broken piece of your soul and make you a little bit more whole? Jin sighs heavily. He doesn’t think it would make much of a difference. Putting only a tiny fragment of something that broke in a million different ways won’t change a thing. There are just too many scars, too many traumas contained in that body of yours, with or without your knowing. 

Out of all the things Jin wants, one of them is to heal you; to take away all your pain and suffering. If he could trade your soul with his, if he could bear all of your crosses, he would do it in a heartbeat. He knows damn well, too, that so will the others (he’ll never forget how Jungkook literally dove in front of a bullet for you, in one of those lives but that’s a story for another time). 

With another deep sigh, Jin plops himself down on a horizontal rotting log, eyes never leaving the water surface. The sun is no longer above the treeline and the lighting seems muted. In the silence, he longs for you, wishing he could feel your arms around his shoulders and hear your voice telling him how stupid he’s being right now. His head is starting to pound and the world is swaying from side to side. His alcohol-soaked brain is starting to get the better of him because why is he seeing you climbing up the side of the waterfall again, grinning at him ear to ear. 

He stands up, tilting a bit to one side and he feels like he might be sick. You scale to the top, waving at him happily. “Get down from there,” he tried to say but the words felt too heavy for his tongue to form properly. No. Not again. Please. If there’s a god out there, please not again. 

Jin shuffles forward, tripping over his own feet, calling out to you. The sound of the waterfall is deafening in his ears and he tries his best to shout over the noise. He moves forward, shoes sinking into the water as he desperately wills his body to keep moving, to get to you before you jump. He’s too slow, body too big, too heavy. No. Stop. Don’t. Don’t jump. 

But you do - into the water with a splash only in Jin’s head. Adrenaline surges and for a moment his vision clears a little bit and the world stops trying to upend him off his feet. He wades in the water, screaming your name. Something catches against his legs but with brute force, he wrenches himself free. Later, he’ll feel the burn but for now, all he can do is try and catch you when you fall. He can be ready this time. He can stop it from happening this time. He can save you this time.

With one last wave with a smile that outshines the sun, you jump. And Jin dives under the water after you.

A few feet behind him, standing on the log he had been sitting just minutes ago, you look in horror as Jin disappears into the water. 

Back at the manor…

Oliviera stares open-mouthed at the six ghosts standing in the hallway, their pale faces mirroring hers. 

Hoseok stares at his semi-translucent hands, feeling the icy cold fingers of dread creeping down his neck like someone had just doused him in cold water. Their backpacks had thumped straight to the floor loudly the moment their shoulders were no longer solid and Jimin thinks that fear is such an insignificant word to describe this sinking feeling in his stomach. His hands shake.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asks, his voice sounding a lot more like the teenager they raised than the adult that he is, eyes wide and looking around.

Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks but neither of them has an answer. Yoongi slumps to his knees, his legs feeling like jelly. His chest is tight and every breath is like claws dragging down the inside of his ribcage. He knows he’s right before the words even come out of his mouth: “Jin. It’s Jin.”

It takes all but zero point two seconds between when the words sink in and when they dash out the door, opting to go through it like the ghosts that they are and straight down towards the back of the house. But ghosts are bound to the places that they haunt and so Solomon’s Manor pulls them back, stopping them just before the ravine, a hundred feet or so away from the edge of the woods. So close, yet so far away.

Jungkook screams for his hyung, a voice that barely reaches the treeline and Jimin bursts into tears, fisting his shirt above where his heart is supposed to be because the pain there is excruciating. Yoongi stares forlornly into the distance, holding Taehyung by the waist as the other man’s face is buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Hoseok’s fists lay helplessly by his sides but Namjoon doesn’t stop from trying to break away from the invisible force that keeps them bound to the house; a curse so old they’ve lived a thousand lives. He twists, he turns and he yells to the sky but all in vain. Solomon’s Manor keeps them from reaching Jin.

 A thousand lives and yet nothing as bad as this ever happened. The threat of bad omens has always followed you, never them. Immortal beings have no qualms about the other side that it never crossed their minds that their own lives could ever be in danger. Death has only been associated with you, the cycle jumping your soul from one body to the next. It never occurred that it could happen to them when it has been aeons with no rest; the same souls residing in the same bodies as the century bled into the next. 

“She’ll find him,” comes a voice, although shaky, from behind. Hoseok turns around to see Oliviera had followed them, wringing her hands together at her chest. Her face is pale as her eyes are set towards the wood. “She’ll bring him home.”

She must, Hoseok thinks, a thought that rings cohesive among all of them standing there. 

You have to trust me, too. 

Your words ring in his head. He stiffens his upper lip, but his hands remain fisted.  

Above them, thick clouds roll in, dark as the future seems to be.

a/n: Look at that! Two updates in one year! Productive! Lmao

Next coming...someday

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[aelinad]

Tangled Strings Of Fate (TSOF) - Navigation

To people who believe in meet cutes … and perhaps fate?

Chapter 01 - Convenience Store

Chapter 02 - Déjà vu

Chapter 03 - Texts

Chapter 04 - Outings

Chapter 05 - The Party

Chapter 06 - The Party Pt. 2

Chapter 07 - TBA

[chroniclesofbts]

Break my Walls P. 1

Genre: A/B/O, Poly BTS and Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter, eventual smut, slow burn, angst, fluff

“Get up Omega, Alpha Dae wants the whole pack preparing for the Choi packs arrival” Beta San said, throwing my covers on the ground.

“And what is the rule about making a nest?” He questioned.

“It’s not a-” I cut myself off, “nests are a waste of time and resources that Alphas need.”

“At least you can remember the rules, get dressed and get downstairs” he barked walking out of the room.

I pick up the sheets off the ground and flatten them on the bed. I move the pillows back to the head of the bed. I must have moved them in my sleep again. I sighed, heading to the chest at the end of the bed and pulled out my only pair of jeans and a T-shirt left by one of the older Omegas. Pulling my hair back into a pony tail, I begin to climb down the ladder from the attic where the omegas sleep.

Omegas in the Kang pack are at the bottom of the totem pole, just like in every other pack. We are taught to stay out of sight unless called upon and obey orders. Omegas are good for pleasure and pups. Next month, I step into that role, replacing an omega who forgot her place, at least that’s what Pack Alpha Dae said.

“Y/N! Come quick, before Alpha Dae sees that you’re late” Sunhee whispered, motioning to the spot beside her. Sunhee was another Omega in my pack, she has been Alpha Dae’s personal Omega for 3 years now. The longest any Omega has lasted. She works hard, always showing off Alpha Dae’s marks. She’s already proven herself useful to the pack, having a little boy last summer. He looks just like Alpha Dae, everyone knows he will be an Alpha. After all, Sunhee is still here.

“Omegas! I want tonight’s dinner to be perfect! We have just received word that two more packs will be joining us. Both Lee and Kim will arrive at 5 P.M. so I expect this house spotless and food ready by then” Alpha Dae announced before going to his chambers, signaling Sunhee to follow.

“Alpha Dae muse be stressed to pull Sunhee to his chambers immediately” Hana whispered to me before grabbing the cleaning supplies and leaving.

“Y/N, you are in charge of dessert. We always get such positive reviews from our guests when you make them. The rest of you, same jobs as usual” Hei-Ran, our pack omega stated. All Omegas immediately got to work, preparing for three packs to arrive by the end of the day.

*4:30 P.M.*

Pulling the last pie from the oven, I set it on the counter with the rest of the desserts. I prayed that I made enough, or else Alpha Dae would see that I was punished. Our pack has 150 people, 100 Alphas, 30 Betas, and 20 Omegas. The Choi pack is similar in numbers, with more 120 Alphas, 10 Betas, and 20 Omegas. The Omegas and the Betas don’t eat what the Alphas eat usually, but with the news of the Lee and Kim pack joining, Alpha Dae has made a room for the Betas and a room for the Omegas to dine. The Lee pack is the second most sought after pack, with only nine people, they don’t accept new members frequently. The last Alpha that joined their all Alpha pack was six years ago. The Kim Pack is the top sought after pack, and quite the mystery. All that’s known of them is that they were in a different pack and left together. There’s seven people, no one knows what their sub gender is, just that they are all men. They all wear scent blockers and make decisions together, leading most to believe they are all Alphas. They don’t take in new members and rarely come out to meet with other packs.

“Please tell me the desserts are done, Y/N” Sunhee said, walking into the kitchen. She had a few new bruises and reeked of Alpha Dae. “The Kim pack just arrived, and Alpha Dae is panicking. You’d think he was being attacked” she continued, looking at all of the desserts on the counters.

“Don’t touch them, they are still hot. Also, this section goes to the Alpha’s table. These are the Omega desserts” I pointed, while cleaning up.

Voices drifted down the hall, Alpha Dae giving a tour to the Kim Pack. The rumors were true, the only scent I could pick up was Alpha Dae’s.

“And this is the kitchen!” Alpha Dae exclaimed. I immediately dropped my eyes to the floor, giving a small bow to the pack.

“Our Omegas worked hard to prepare today’s meal, our desserts are well known by the pack too. You all chose a great day to visit.”

“Thank you for having us on such short notice, The Choi pack has asked for our input on today’s meeting.” The voice was strong and confident, clearly their pack Alpha.

“The desserts smell wonderful, I am sure they will taste just as good” an angelic voice spoke, their compliment causing heat to creep up my neck.

“Let’s continue on with the tour” Alpha Dae said, as footsteps left the kitchen.

“You should follow your pack, Sir. Our Alpha doesn’t take kindly to his Omegas being in the presence of other packs.” Sunhee spoke lowly, trying to keep our pack Alpha from hearing. This cause me to look up to see who she was speaking to. There in the doorway to the kitchen, stood the most beautiful man I have ever seen. It’s unfair how good looking he was. His hair was dark, and longer than any of our pack members were allowed to wear it. His lips were plump, pulled into a small grin. He was tall and had broad shoulders, barely fitting in the frame of the door. And his eyes, they were locked right on me. I immediately looked away and began portioning the desserts. Uncomfortable with receiving anyone’s attention.

“Your Alpha sure does like to mark what’s his, doesn’t he?” The man addressed Sunhee.

“And yours must not be worried about another Alpha trying to take what’s his” Sunhee shot back, causing the man to chuckle.

“Oh we all like to leave our marks on one another, our marks just would never be left with such carelessness. We like our marks to show our love, not stake a claim” he replied.

“Sunhee! Show the Kim pack their rooms!” Alpha Dae demanded from upstairs, ignorant that he was missing one of the pack members. Sunhee rushed upstairs, leaving me alone with the strange man.

“You made all of these?” He asked me, coming closer to see the variety of desserts I was placing on trays.

“Yes sir” I responded, trying to focus on placing the desserts perfectly, with my shaking hands. Having this man standing so close made you nervous, and not just because of his beauty.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” You ask, certain that was the only reason he was still in the kitchen. Maybe he was hungry, his pack did travel a long way to reach yours.

“I do not need anything, just the conversation of a pretty girl” he replied smoothly, confusing you. His pack wasn’t know to go out of their way to have conversations with anyone. What exactly did he want from you.

“Well, Sunhee should return any moment” you say, moving into the Omega trays.

“Those are Omega specific desserts, aren’t they.”he states more than questions.

“They are, how did you know that?” You paused, glancing at him.

“Jin hyung! There you are, come, we have to change before dinner begins.” A different man stated as he bounced into the kitchen. His hair was similar length as Jin’s was and he was the same height. His lips formed a heart when he smiled, he was full of energy.

“I am coming Hobi, was just admiring the work of this Omega” Jin replied, pushing him out of the door. I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Oh, and Omega? I wasn’t speaking of Sunhee earlier” he winked, before disappearing from view. I felt my face heat up from his words. What a strange man, he must not have really looked at Sunhee. Or maybe it was because she still held Alpha Dae’s scent.

Lost in my thoughts as I went back to the attic to change, I failed to look where I was going, running straight into someone’s chest.

“Woah, sorry Omega, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” The voice said, grabbing ahold of my shoulders to steady me. “My names Namjoon, you were one of the Omegas in the kitchen. Your desserts smelled amazing. Jin said how you had desserts dedicated to Omegas. He was very impressed with your knowledge and variety of desserts.”

“Oh, it’s not often I get to make omega desserts, I had to make as many as I could for my packs omegas to experience” I rambled, freezing when I realized what I had said to a member of another pack. I looked up in alarm, waiting for the punishment of disrespecting my pack’s alphas, only to be met with a look of confusion.

“Why would-” He began, only to be interrupted my one of my alphas.

“Omega, clothes, now!” He barked, forcing my limbs to move, even if I didn’t want to. Leaving Namjoon standing in the hallway confused, as he watches me follow a command.

[nostxlgiax]

might not have (did not loose) | knj

title: might not have (did not loose) | knj

pairing: kim namjoon x reader

genre: drama, angst, smut (eventually)

word count: 6.1k words and counting

status: work in progress

synopsis: he's all she's ever known, til she knows nothing at all.)

warnings: descriptions of car accidents, descriptions of injury, depression, memory loss, temporary amnesia, mentions of medicine, flashbacks, non sexual intimacy, strangers to friends, friends to lovers. slow burn, eventual romance, eventual sex, (more tags to come)

"he feels familiar—" she explains with a frown. it makes her head too heavy and hot to find the words. "—like someone you've seen before? somewhere? everywhere?"

she sees him in the hall, talking animatedly in a way she wants to reserve for herself.

it's selfish.

senseless.

"—like someone you can't forget."

© copyright ciani jayde 2024

Keep Reading on AO3

note: hey there babes ! this is a [chaptered] work in progress that i'm so happy to share with you'll. if the aforementioned warnings and added tags look like your thing, let me know ! i’ll add any to the taglist. a masterlist of current, upcoming, and posted works will be created eventually; if you have any writing prompts you’d like me to fill, drabbled/request, send an ask ! ✧∘*

[clumsy-jiminie]

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

❝ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 4.7k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, questionable yoga poses, sexual fantasying, intimacy

↣ notes :: :) surprise :) the amount of sexual tension in this chapter makes me wanna smush their faces together and yell KISS ALREADY also JIN IS BACK JIN IS HOME WORLD WIDE HANDSOME HAS RETURNED 🥳 I was so happy to see our king of chaos return and spend some time with the rest of the boys!

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"you're watching, I feel it. I know I shouldn't stare. I picture your hands on me. I think I wanna let it happen."

-liar, camilla cabello-

Amber eyes met with chocolate irises. After staring at each other with a widened gaze of disbelief, both pairs respectfully narrowed at each other.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Kiara dropped whatever stretch she was about to do, turning to face the blonde man who seemed equally, if not more, annoyed than the girl.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She whispered harshly so she wouldn't cause a scene.

Jimin couldn't help but tilt his head to the side curiously, switching arms to stretch the other one out. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

Her eyes burned a hole into him. "No shit! I meant here, at this studio, when there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other ones!"

The man shrugged, "This one was in the area. Technically, I should be asking you what you're doing here. Aren't you supposed to be in Long Island?"

Kiara opened her mouth and prepared for a slick response, but the words died on her tongue. He had a point, but she wouldn't let him know. All she wanted was to relax; with everything else going on in her life, this was the one place guaranteed to provide some tranquillity. But now that was tainted by the blonde's mere existence.

It was like the universe was playing some sick joke on the woman, interweaving her life with someone as insufferable as him. Her existence became a reality TV show for the gods above and below, making Kiara and Jimin the main characters. 

"What happened to your hair?" Jimin asked suddenly, filling the air of silence that grew between them. He had only checked out the woman because her hair caught his attention. So curly, wild, and free—he liked it, but it was Kiara's, so he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to pull on her curls strand by strand to watch them recoil back to the loose spring. Plus, Kiara had straight hair—she always had straight hair—she couldn't just suddenly change it on him.

"Fuck off," she quipped while she placed her hands on her hips for a moment. Kiara didn't wear her hair curly for this exact reason; someone always had something to say about it. Whether it was white women and children reaching out to touch it without her permission, black men insisting she was anything other than black when trying to talk to her, and random Hispanic people speaking straight Spanish to her as if she understood. Kiara didn't like the attention it brought her. That's why she kept it straight. The only thing people would do was compliment her hair. The less attention, the better.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to find the calmness she once had before Park Jimin had entered. If she couldn't, she would hightail it out of here and back to Little Latte to give Jeongguk an earful. She knew she should've stayed at his place and made his bed into a lovely, comfy depression nest. An overwhelming feeling sat in her gut as soon as Jeongguk mentioned the outside world. 

"Was it on purpose? Like you meant to walk outside like that?" Jimin started to lean side to side casually, hiding the smirk that desperately wanted to form on his lips. 

Kiara glared at the blonde, her fiery gaze meeting his playful one. So he thinks this is a joke? "Fuck you and ya motha."

"Oooh," Jimin chuckled, hiding his attraction to her accent. It was the first time he heard it so prominently. Did she know she had a voice that deserved to be in porn? He could listen to just her speaking with no direction at all and get off. "Insulting people's mother's now? Someone's a little feisty."

"You're right," she stepped off her mat and bent over, beginning to roll it up. Jimin's eyes lingered over the woman for more than what was appropriate. "Your mother is probably a wonderful lady. I bet she tried everything for you not to grow up a pretentious asshole, but unfortunately," she grabbed her mat and water bottle, "some thing's can't be helped."

Jimin's upper lip twitched, threatening to curl from the bold assumption that his mother was anything excellent. He should’ve told her off—let her know just how painfully wrong she was—but that little smirk playing on her lips stole the words from his tongue. All he could do was sigh deeply, exhaling all the words he wanted to say as he stared into those eyes of gold that threatened him as much as his own. Just as she stepped away from him, assuming the woman was going to leave so they both could have peace, a door opened. The duo turned their head towards the noise that interrupted their tension.

"Good morning, my blessed rays of sunshine and daring rainbows!" A short girl with wavy dark brown hair walked in, followed by a tall man with deep skin. With the amount of pep in her step, one would think she was skipping. She made her way to the front of the room, standing before the mirror on top of a mat. The woman was very petite, standing at 4'10 at most. In contrast, the man beside her had to be at least 6 feet tall. It was an odd couple, but Kiara didn't care as much as she wondered why there were two instructors instead of one.

The woman smiled brightly at the room as the chatting people from earlier slowly started to join the center. "It's an honor to have you join us for this couples class."

The duo's eyes widened with disbelief before releasing an aspirated sigh. "Ah, shit," they mumbled as they looked around the room. Everyone had a partner beside them, leaving them as the only pair. 

"Today's class is designed for you and your partner to sync until you are one."

Kiara quickly raised her hand, promptly grabbing the instructors' attention. They nodded towards her, prompting her to speak. "What if you don't have a partner?"

The room erupted in tiny giggles like she said a joke, but Kiara's face remained unchanged. She stared at the two instructors, jaw clenched with an unamused expression spread amongst her features. She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for whatever response the two would conjure up.

"Oh, you were serious?" The man asked before Kiara nodded. He pursed his lips briefly before his eyes landed on the man beside her. Jimin looked at Kiara, wondering where she expected this route to lead her. It was only until the overwhelming feeling of someone staring at you that he pulled his gaze away from the girl and looked at the male instructor. "Do you have a partner?"

The blonde's eyes went wide before he cleared his throat. "Well, no, but—"

"Ah! So problem solved!" The male grinned before looking off at the rest of the class.

"No!" Kiara's voice pipped up before the female instructor could speak. "Problem not solved! Problem far from solved!"

"You're welcome to walk out," the short woman stated. She stared at the other woman, her warm blue eyes freezing over suddenly. That didn't stop Kiara from bending over again, preparing to gather her things until the woman's voice cut through the air. "But we don't offer refunds here."

Kiara stopped and froze, debating for a moment before slowly standing up. She had to dip into her savings fund to pay for this class, and she didn't want to waste money she shouldn't have been spending in the first place. Her shoulders dropped in defeat as she realized she was not only going to be stuck in the same room with Park Jimin, sober, for a whole hour, but now she was also to be his partner.

"Problem solved?" The female instructor asked with a tone of impatience lingering behind her words. Kiara nodded silently. The woman's eyes then traveled to Jimin, who met her gaze with a glare. She raised a questioning brow, tempting him to take a chance and try her also. And Jimin would've. He didn't need the money, nor cared so much for the class. He could've left, found another class at a neighboring yoga studio, and pretended he never ran into Ms. Kiara. But that was the issue. All it took was one glance at the woman who seemed to shrink into herself from embarrassment.

Jimin tilted his head back as he shut his eyes, letting out a small sigh of defeat. He placed his hands on his hips, gathering all the positive energy lingering in his system. He looked at the instructor once more, offering her his charming smile. "Problem solved."

The instructors seemed pleased, going on to resume their introduction to the class. Kiara found herself slowly shuffling towards Jimin. She leaned in subtly towards him. "Just so you know," she whispered, "I'm going to hate every second of this."

Jimin stifled back a dry scoff. "Likewise."

After the introduction, the instructors started the class with a simple breathing exercise. They demonstrated the position, causing Kiara's eyes to widen before she glanced at the blonde man beside her, who did not react. Soon, everyone, including Jimin and Kiara, got onto their mats and copied their position.

Kiara stared at Jimin while he avoided her gaze completely before cautiously sliding into his lap. The instructor pulled the shades on the window down, blocking out the natural sunlight before dimming the fluorescent lights. Speakers quietly played calm notes of guitar strings plucking and wind instruments. Despite the elements around them, the duo was anything but relaxed. Kiara tensed at the feeling of Jimin's hands on her back while hers wrapped around his neck loosely. Jimin tried to steady his breathing, praying that she couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating. They don't like each other; they haven't liked each other for months, so why did he need to feel close to her?

Kiara inhaled deeply, letting her eyes shut as her breathing began to sync with Jimin's. It was fast at first and slightly concerning until her fingers absentmindedly found the little hairs on his nape. He seemed to relax at the feeling of her fingertips stroking his hair. For the first time today, Kiara felt some sort of peace.

She wanted to pretend it was Taehyung's arms wrapped around her. She wanted to pretend it was his hands gently rubbing against her cool skin, warming her. She wanted to pretend it was his incredibly addictive scent she was breathing in. The sweet smell of citrus and pineapple colliding with a slight spice of black pepper and juniper berries with a heavy hint of vanilla lingering in the background was comforting. Disrespectfully intoxicating. Soothing. She wanted to pretend, but she couldn't.

All of his qualities were opposite of Jimin's.

Taehyung was naturally rougher and more dominating. Slow moments like this didn't come often, and if they did, it would always end with a hand on her ass or boob, groping her and telling her how horny he is. Sometimes, she just wanted to be held, to feel skin against hers in the most innocent ways. She didn't want her body to only be touched for someone else's pleasure. 

Her boyfriend also smelled like a teenager who put on too much axe body spray. Kiara preferred something sweeter, more inviting, and easier on the nose, while Taehyung wanted people to smell him before he entered the room. His colognes contained more notes of cedar woods, bergamot, and various citruses—powerful and entirely too much for Kiara. Maybe that's why she found herself snuggling closer to Jimin, her nose pressing against the crook of his neck, causing the area to tense from her simple touch.

"Someone's close," Jimin whispered lowly, causing a pleasant chill to run down her spine. She didn't know his voice could get deeper, and it was a dangerous ability for him to have. His silk voice was already soothing on the ears, but this made it far more enjoyable.

"That's the whole point of the exercise," she mumbled, subconsciously pushing her body against his.

Jimin inhaled sharply, her curls tickling the tip of his nose. He couldn't slow his heart. He couldn't stop his mind, not while she was this close to him. All he could think about was how divine she smelled—a delicate mix of berries with hints of whipped vanilla. Sweetness seemed to be her signature, which he didn't mind. He just ran his fingers up and down her spine, instinctively pulling her closer by her hips. The woman couldn't help the gasp that escaped from her lips as her fingertips gripped his black shirt.

Kiara shouldn't be enjoying this. It was wrong on so many levels. Still, she couldn't help but let her eyes flutter close as she melted into his embrace. She imagined a world where the events leading to their distaste for each other didn't occur. A world where Jimin met her before Taehyung. A world where his gentle touch was normalized, yet still made goosebumps arise on her skin as if it was foreign.

The instructor's voice cut through their moment of peace, placing them back in the reality where they disliked each other. Their separation was slow, almost as if their bodies were rejecting the idea of it. Kiara's eyes met Jimin's briefly before she slid onto the floor and to the space beside him. 

The class continued with some regular solo poses before another couple exercise. Kiara sighed deeply, dreading the moment she had to feel Jimin's hands against her skin. This is what she should be feeling, right? Then why did it feel forced?

The class watched as the male instructor demonstrated the pose. It was relatively easy, like the first one, yet Kiara's face flushed with heat. This class was truly meant for couples. She wondered if Taehyung would be interested in attending one with her, but she already knew his answer would be no. The activity was too boring, and with the closeness he would convince them to ditch and never return.

"You nervous or something?" Jimin whispered, sounding almost genuine as he pulled her from her thoughts.

"No!" She snapped at him quietly.

His brows furrowed as he gestured towards the space in front of him. "Then get in position." His tone matched hers without a second thought. 

The woman glared at him despite being the one to start the trouble. Regardless, she did as she was told and stood before him. Sweat began to form in the palms of her hands as she felt his hand rest on her hip. She took a deep breath, slowly bending forward as the hand resting in the middle of her back guided her. She grasped her toes between her fingers while keeping her knees straight, causing the back of her legs to stretch. Typically, this was a very relaxing pose, and she usually would've gone a step further and wrapped her arms around her calves, almost pulling her head between her legs. Jimin's presence was a distraction—too significant not to notice—stopping her from stretching further. He wasn't doing much, but his hands gently persuaded her to continue the stretch by applying light pressure on her back while her other hand firmly kept her in place to ensure she didn't lose balance. It caused her face to flush, the feeling of his hands so gentle yet so commanding.

Curiosity flooded Kiara's mind briefly, leading her to glance at the mirror before them. And god, she wished she hadn't. It was enough that she found Jimin attractive—you'd have to be blind to say he wasn't—but with his dark eyes peering over her frame as he stood directly behind her and his brows somewhat furrowed with his head tilted to the side a bit, Kiara was surprised she didn't turn bright red at the sight. Her mind strolled to a dark area, wondering if this were the picture an onlooker would see if he was fucking her from behind. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she quickly looked away. She cursed at herself softly, knowing that specific scene would plague her thoughts for the next few nights.

Jimin inhaled deeply, trying to convince himself to remain calm. She was such a sight to see already, but bent over? It took every ounce of concentration he had not to allow blood to run opposite from his head. Despite wanting to fill the gap between them and press his hips against the woman, he stayed frozen in place. You know better, rang through his head like a mantra. Curse this class for being so sexually charged, as if couples couldn't also mean a pair of friends who like yoga as well. It felt as if the instructors were punishing the duo for speaking up against them. Although, he was pleasantly surprised with how flexible the woman was. He prayed for the moment when the instructors called for a new position, not wanting to deal with this level of torture any longer. And when they finally did, he only removed his hand from her back, allowing her to return to an upright position slowly. He watched Kiara through lowered lids. Why did it seem as if everything she did was purposely seductive? It was like the girl had lust running through her system, expressed through the way she moved and spoke. Jimin didn't back off until he got a face full of her sweet fragrance.

Kiara swiftly returned to her mat. She unzipped her hoodie, feeling as if the area just went up 20 degrees. The woman rid herself of the black fabric, leaving her in a cropped white camisole. She used her hand to fan herself, hoping that the lack of clothing and the cool air would allow her face to return to its usual shade. Jimin glanced at the girl, subtly doing a double take as her chest barely moved up and down to accommodate her breathing. He stared ahead, cursing himself mentally, as he felt he was just about to lose the fight between his head and dick. He made it through having the woman sit in his lap and bent over directly in front of him, but her standing in a camisole was what would do him in?

Fuck, he thought to himself as the instructors started to talk. Hopefully, the shrill voice of the fake-peppy woman could stop him at a chub so he could avoid the embarrassment. The sweatpants he decided to put on weren't necessarily boner-proof. Her curves were so noticeable, so divine, blessed by Aphrodite herself. He totally understood why Taehyung was drawn to her, but how he put up with her slick tongue every day during their relationship was beyond him.

The class resumed its regular poses once again, giving Jimin a break as he focused on his posture. Kiara couldn't help but glance at him now and again. The regular poses had them remain close, causing their limbs to brush each other occasionally. The slight touch was more than enough to cause goosebumps to rise on either party's skin. Almost touching each other should've burned. It should've made them recoil strongly like the heat of a nearing fire. Stolen glances between the two should've created flames fueled by disdain for the other.

But it didn't. For the first time since that fateful night when everything went to shit, they were coexisting. Neither decided to question it; instead, they just lived in the moment, considering it would be the last.

The instructors demonstrated another pose, prompting the duo and the rest of the class to follow. This one didn't seem as sexually charged. Jimin sat on the mat with his legs wide open, allowing Kiara to place herself between them. She leaned back into him, resting her head on the upper portion of his chest. The curly-haired woman tried her hardest to relax against him, knowing that this particular stretch could end with her pulling a very uncomfortable area if Kiara wasn't careful. She let her eyes flutter shut as she tilted her chin toward the ceiling. Her hands rested comfortably on Jimin as if this was just an everyday thing with him—like being comfortable with him was normal.

Jimin was utterly focused. Having Kiara this close to him again could cause some trouble for him. He had already proved to himself that his mind could go to that place easily regarding the woman. The blonde wished he could blame it on the lack of pleasurable activities, but that would be a lie. As Kiara sunk into him, her curls tickling the side of his neck, he reached forward to grab her ankles. He lifted her legs into the air, slowly but surely pulling her limbs to either side of her. Jimin's brows furrowed as he continued to pull farther than he expected her to handle. She let out a soft hum, sounding pleasant to the ears.

Jimin inhaled deeply. He had the girl spread eagle in his lap, pulling her legs back until the side of her head. He averted his eyes, looking anywhere besides the place where any other guy would gaze. He even caught the male instructor staring in her direction for too a little long. The blonde instantly narrowed his eyes at the other, jaw set and tongue ready to slit his throat if the gaze proceeded. Luckily, the man was smart. He was instantly unsettled by his gaze, looking elsewhere while pretending to help another couple. Jimin couldn't help but roll his eyes, lip curling at the thought of him possibly checking out another woman while seemingly in a relationship. Though it was an assumption, Jimin could usually tell taken men from single. The former seemed to move more cautiously or didn't care for anything else around them. The latter always had a wandering eye, interacting with the world's opportunities of the beauties bestowed on him.

Kiara opened her eyes, meeting with the ceiling before looking ahead. The way Jimin had pulled her legs, stretching her abductors pleasantly, felt amazing. She looked at their reflection, gazing at his surprisingly strong arms. Her mind traveled to a darker place where they sat in a similar position, in front of a mirror in the privacy of her home, with a lot less clothing. Kiara was so caught up in her imagination—something she definitely shouldn't be indulging in considering the state of her relationship status—that she didn't notice Jimin's gaze slowly fall upon her, their eyes meeting in the mirror once again. She seemed in a daze to him; eyes glazed over with developing lust. He only wished to get a peek inside of that mind of hers.

When she finally came to, noticing how her eyes locked with his, she glared at him and quickly averted his gaze. Her face flushed with heat, a tedious habit when it came to this man. Kiara hoped he wouldn't see the embarrassment hiding in her rose-stained cheeks, but Jimin only chuckled at the sight, and she was unsure if that infuriated her or granted her relief. She wasn't allowed to ponder her feelings as the instructors commenced wind down, consisting of the duo separating and laying next to each other on their mats. They were only a few inches apart. Jimin's finger twitched, craving an action he knew he very well shouldn't. An hour of grasping her soft skin in his hands should've sufficed him. Yet he was greedy, wanting more of her than they both knew she could give.

Kiara stared up at the dimmed, round light fixtures that hung from the ceiling until little flashes of color invaded her line of vision. She let out a deep sigh, letting her eyes shut. Her mind was a tsunami of thoughts when it was supposed to be a calm lake. Three men crashed like tidal waves on her beach of sanity, when she hoped this class would get rid of them only for a second. She didn't want to think about her annoying boyfriend, her best friend whose eyes seemed to cover hidden feelings or the blonde whose looks should match his ugly personality to make things easier on her. She attempted to drown them with silence—push them so below the surface that it would take days for them to reach the top of the wave again. 

The room became brighter as the fluorescent lights turned on, and the instructors raised the shades to let in natural lightning. Kiara heard the other occupants get up and retrieve their stuff, but she remained glued to the floor beneath her. It wasn't enough time. This class achieved the opposite of why she attended. She still felt tense, and on edge, waiting for someone to push her over.

"Well, that wasn't a total nightmare," said a voice above her. The smug tone wrapped around his words dropped like acid onto the girl's face. Opening one eye, she was graced by the image of Jimin slightly bent over, hands in his pockets, with golden hair loosely spreading out and around him like rays of the sun.

"Says who?" Kiara scoffed as she sat up, a cloud blocking his rays. Most of the class had packed their stuff, leaving a few chatty stragglers beside the duo. She gathered her things before standing up and looking at the blonde. Looking up at him, she never noticed how much she needed to tilt her head back. Why did he look like he was glowing under the fluorescent lighting? His honey-glazed skin was smooth and supple, with the faintest freckles on his cheeks. 

"Considering the fact that we've survived an hour of pretending we could tolerate being close to each other, let alone touching each other, I'll take that as a win," Jimin smirked while folding his arms over his chest.

"Fucking perv," Kiara grumbled. "You liked putting your grimy little fingers on me, didn't you?"

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it. I saw your face."

Kiara's eyes went wide for a moment before she unknowingly mirrored Jimin's stance by folding her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight to one foot. "I have not the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

The blonde couldn't help but smile as he watched her lips form into a subtle pout, her chin tilting upwards as she tried her hardest to appear snobby. Too bad she couldn't sell it. All she managed to do was look cute. "Yeah, OK, Kiara. Whatever will help you sleep better at night."

"Of course, you would think about how I sleep." Kiara quipped. She didn't know why she always dragged out conversations with Jimin. All she had to do was ignore him and walk away, but something about his little jabs made her want to fight.

Jimin let out a loud scoff. "Don't flatter yourself. You live far from my thoughts at night."

Kiara's brows furrowed, not understanding why that comment would leave her with an uncomfortable pit in her stomach instead of swelling with relief. "Yeah OK." She bent over to pack up her equipment, knowing Jimin's eyes were gazing upon her. She slowly stood up again, regaining control of the situation. She could see how Jimin's eyelids had lowered, plump lips ever so slightly agape as if he was trying to breathe out the lingering desire in his system. "So we're just gonna pretend like you weren't just staring at me, right?"

Jimin's face suddenly twitched, like he was snapping himself back to reality. Heat followed afterward, flushing his skin with a pretty pink. Kiara giggled softly, causing his lips to tug into a small smile despite the embarrassment swimming through him. How the woman managed to shut him up, not once, but twice now, was beyond him. Jimin was the king of clapbacks. There wasn't a soul that could escape his wicked tongue until he met the beautiful girl with wild hair and a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. He could only sigh, feigning annoyance though he was rather impressed. 

"You really think I was staring at you?"

"I know it."

Jimin didn't bother testing his luck again. Something about her threw him off his game, which was not his proudest moment. The blonde couldn't do much but watched as she swayed her hips, strolling towards the door until she stopped suddenly.

"Guess you'll have something to think about at night now," Kiara said just as she walked out of the room. Jimin's jaw fell slightly before he collected himself, scoffing quietly. A part of him was tempted to follow after, to continue the banter they had fallen into.

But he knew better than that.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

[joverflowers]

Ultimate Jinmin Fic Recommendation pt 2

Neighbors/Roommates

efflorescent by minchimcheree

summary: Jimin gets an unexpected new neighbor.

silent speaking words by bucephalas

summary: Kim Seokjin lives alone. Worse still, he feels alone. There's nothing to be done for it. Until one day he finds a cat on his fire escape and meets Park Jimin - a man with the softest of voices and smiles and a laugh like bells.

recipe for success by prosperousends

summary: Jimin runs a potion shop; Seokjin runs a stand selling potion ingredients right across the street. Despite Jimin's best efforts, they find common ground.

Nevermind by eternal_octopus

summary: Wherein the most beautiful man Jimin's ever seen moves in next door, but it's too good to be true when he also turns out to be the lead singer of a rock band that practices at all hours of the night.

You Gave Me A Key (And Called It Home) by caecoethic

summary: The apartment isn't much, not really, and Seokjin thinks there could be better decor in the place; but it's all his. In time, he thinks it could be a home. (and then he gets a roommate.)

dis-ease by gardenjins

summary: roommate park jimin: I’m stopping at the supermarket after work today. anything you need?

me: medicine :(

roommate park jimin: that’s. really vague hyung. what kind of medicine?

the light will wait for us by moonbabie

summary: jimin is studying to be a fortune-teller, born to generations of fortune-tellers and mudangs before him, in an apartment building he's spent all his life in. seokjin is a new tenant, untethered and opaque. why is he so familiar?

press home to unlock by jnkkgay

summary: seokjin would very much like to know if it is normal for your roommate to suddenly set the backgrounds of all their electronic devices to photos of you.

Sports

ain't no mountain high enough by smashthatlikebutton

summary: Jimin looks over at the man with the nice lips and hips and broad expanse of back, standing at the bar without a care in the world. Snowboarding suits him, he thinks. “Cool, I’m going to seduce him.”

“You can’t just seduce Kim Seokjin, Hyung, he has a Wikipedia page!”

Under the Moon by idyllic_hummingbird

summary: They were the top two figure skaters in the nation. Heated rivals on the ice, but no one knew about what went on behind closed doors. Five years passed after Jin's retirement before Jimin heard from him again, inviting him to the beach where he now lived.

Kill V. Maim by newbensolo (orphan_account)

summary: Kim Seokjin is the star of the ring where Jimin used to shine.

Co-workers/Rivals

Paper Planes Through the Skyscraper's Window by Onion_Path

summary: When Kim Seokjin first stepped into the streets of Manhattan with his luggage full of hopes and dreams of building planes and watching them take off above the sky, he wasn’t expecting the said planes to be made of paper out of all things. Neither did he expect them to find a place to land in the apartment across the street; yet here he is now, trying to confess his feelings for his co-worker through weather forecasts and wind speed calculations.

Past the Perfect Pictures by seoulsunset

summary: While they both had the perfect chemistry in front of the flashing cameras, the fact remains that Jimin hated Seokjin, and Seokjin hated Jimin. The competition is tough and the hate game is really strong… or is it really just hate?

Because the last time they checked, you don’t get on your knees for the person you hate.

sweet hot jackpot (winning the office pool) by stickyrum

summary: Jimin commits the most heinous of office crimes against his department manager aka the man of his dreams, and his journey to redemption.

blank by formerlyunknownas

summary: The one where Jimin had too many tequila shots, blacked out, and ultimately slept with his boss (maybe literally, maybe not).

Unnecessary, not stupid. by newgs

summary: Kim Seokjin has been the best. Best chef, best looking, best employee.

Until.

Until Park Jimin, the new owner of the hotel, decides that Kim Seokjin isn't good enough.

Selfish Harmony by tiny_joon

summary: Jimin sighs. He’s not sure how to explain it without it sounding super weird. He dives in anyway, “Okay, so. Hyung and I are in a little bit of a competition to see who can pick up the most passengers at the bar on nights he works. He’s in the lead, obviously, but I’m not that far behind!”

“You are?”

“Well, he doesn’t know.”

you're such a star by kinskins

summary: If asked Seokjin, among of all the annoying things the cruel adult world can throw at you, is one wonderful Park Jimin, who makes the cruel adult world a bit better place to be.

we don't have to say it out loud by capucapu

summary: Seokjin is terribly chaotic, Jimin might be just a bit petty, and everyone else is just struggling to survive another workweek in this capitalist hellscape.

Kim Seokjin from Payroll by tender_tenderly

summary: “…Drama?” he asks. Seokjin only nods, resolute. “How would we cause drama?”

“It’s simple!” Seokjin says, taking Jimin’s hands and pulling him to his feet. He spins him around before tugging him in close until they’re eye-to-eye, chest to chest. Jimin feels his face heating up as Seokjin brushes his hand against the side of his face.

“Gorgeous, excessive, disgusting PDA."

Fluff/Humor

tell me about the seagulls, sam by ebenroot

summary: Park Jimin sets out to get his co-worker Jeon Jeongguk together with his boss, Vice President Kim Namjoon. Not because he's promised a big promotion if they get together, or because he wants Kim Seokjin to lick the bottom of his shoe, but because he is a Good Person (tm).

jack i'm flying! by ameliabedelias

summary:“Are they okay?” A concerned booze cruise attendant walks by. “They’re not gonna jump, are they?”

“Please, just ignore them,” Hoseok sighs, flopping into one of the deck lounge chairs as Seokjin and Jimin get into position. “They’ve been doing this for three years now. It's kind of their thing.”

you're the right time (at the right moment) by merryofsoul

summary: Five times Seokjin and Jimin's friends try to set them up, and one time Seokjin takes matters into his own hands.

(Feat. Jimin working harder than any of them for the same goal.)

sing it back to me by chahans

summary: Jimin is a part-time concert security guard and Jin is the scalper he's willing to make an exception for.

A Long Walk Off A Short Pier by exfatamorgana

summary: Jimin and Seokjin are panicking; their friends are assholes.

Jimin and Seokjin are panicking; their friends are over it.

Beaches and Summer by arysthaeniru

summary: Jimin has a billion videos of Jin doing stupid things on his phone.

Virtual World/ Androids

Limitations Of Virtual Experience by tullycat

Summary: ”So…” The man hesitates. “You know you normally live in virtual reality, yeah?”

Seokjin shrugs. “Of course. You know you breathe?”

Midnight snacks and mechanical dreams by closetfairy

summary: Cake vending machine android Jimin spends his life in a box. Seokjin orders a cake every week, and longs to show Jimin the world.

Pet shop/Animal Shelter/Hybrids

Enough Fish in the Sea for Two by MissCeeEmBee

summary: After quitting his high stress job in Seoul to become a fisherman in a small village, he hasn't caught a single thing. Not even a boot. Dispirited by his lack of success on the high seas, Seokjin almost misses the pitiful mewl coming from the docks. He investigates and finds a tiny, neglected calico cat who shies away from his touch. Gaining the cat's trust, Seokjin eventually takes him home and realizes that the cat isn't exactly who he seems.

Birdsong by sweetjimbles

summary: Jimin, a Lovebird hybrid, has the fattest crush on his best friend's roommate. Each morning in his bird form, he hides in the tree outside Jin's room and sings his little lungs out. It's a shame Jin thinks this bird is purposefully annoying him when he's trying to sleep.

My Tail 'Round Your Waist, Your Mane in My Face by sleepydrabbles

summary: Seokjin looks forward to all his evenings with Jimin, even when they're both a little grumpy.

A Purrfect Match by hope_and_hardship

summary: When Mr. Tall and Handsome came into the animal shelter in a Canali suit, Jimin was not impressed. But then the man did something unexpected. He sat down in his expensive wool suit on the concrete floor in front of the first cat cage and introduced himself to the cat.

Soulmates

Can't Let You Slip Away by edi-neil (sweet_trick)

Summary: Park Jimin thinks that he and his husband have the perfect relationship. They're going to adopt a baby, have great friends, and are grossly in love. The only thing missing is the bright red soulmate string to bind them together permanently.

when all the stars align by orphan_account

Summary: Seokjin doesn’t know what to do with a soulmate who doesn’t want him back.

Crashing into Destiny by Yumi44

summary: Seokjin is beyond ready to start over in a new town with a new job. Possibly even a whole new him. While he comes to Harmony Springs for a change of scenery and completely on a whim, his expectations are very low as this isn’t the first time he’s escaped, but his third. But destiny has other plans for him when a stranger comes crashing into his life, literally.

Show Me (I'll Show You) by mellzmallow

summary: Jimin is starting to get frustrated now. He is beyond confused and fucking hurt that his soulmate just turned his back on him after admitting to his love for the younger. “Why?” He yells at the elder. “Tell me why, hyung!”

“Because,” Seokjin raises his own voice, obviously irritated at Jimin’s persistence. “We’re soulmates, Jimin. I feel everything you feel. That’s why I know you can never love me as much as you love him.”

Fantasy/Magic Au

luck be my lover by wonsteapot

Summary: On a beautiful day, under a cloudless sky, Seokjin meets a pastry-wielding Park Jimin outside a bakery; a young man with bubblegum pink hair and the most beautiful smile in the world—the man who would steal his heart and change his luck in ways he could have never imagined.

Before he knows it, he's living his very own fairy tale. Literally.

The Universe Has Moved For Us by gardenjins

summary: Seokjin runs into someone who looks and acts just like that boy he fell in love with a few centuries ago. he doesn’t want to fall in love again, but it seems he can’t stop himself.

The Golden Rule of Love Curses by smiles

summary: An incomprehensive list of things Seokjin did not expect when he took a job at the library:

a talking seagull.

did he mention the talking seagull, because he feels like no one is properly panicking about a talking seagull?

oh, and also a wizard places him under a curse.

sorry, correction, a wizard places him under a spell. There is obviously a very significant difference, apologies Jimin. A spell is so much better than a curse.

the pearl in the pond by stickyrum

summary: His back sloped from the widest pair of shoulders Jimin had ever seen. Sand stuck to sections of his back and arms, a small river of sweat forming between the dip of his bowed spine. Jimin swallowed dryly. He had back dimples.

Of Spanish Roses & White Lilies by Always_Somewhere

summary: Once upon a time, a lonely rose fell in love with a handsome prince.

Like the Touch of Rain, He Was by portscutie

summary: If Seokjin could he'd live in a rainforest surrounded by the sweltering heat and soothingly fresh rain that always had the power to bring a smile to his face—

But then again, maybe being with Jimin was happiness enough.

hearts on fire by seokjininheaven

summary: Of all the things Jimin thought would happen once he started practicing magic, he never did think that lighting his mentor's hair on fire would be one of them. It wasn't his fault that Seokjin was the most handsome man Jimin had ever seen.

fae, love-laced by honeyslice (heavensring)

summary: Jimin is a house fairy assigned to Seokjin, human-extraodinaire—at making his job frustratingly difficult.

Hurt/Comfort

comfort blanket by wonsteapot

summary: When normality comes crashing down around him, Jimin turns to Seokjin for comfort.

two left by Saltyghostsuga

summary: Performance Artist Jimin finds himself as a teacher's assistant in Hoseok's Contemporary Dance class for Beginners (yike) as he recovers from an injury, working his way back to being on stage again. He learns just as much about dancing from his student, tech supply conglomerate executive with two left feet Kim Seokjin, as Jin does from him.

love fallen by celestialfail

summary: Jimin finds out the village's demon is really a fallen angel inflicted with a terrible sickness.

despite everything i love you by asteriafics (orphan_account)

summary: Jimin realizes he's in love with Seokjin and promptly goes through the five stages of grief.

A Certain Sense of Synergy by deepslowpanic

summary: They barely even dated, Jimin doesn’t feel like he can even call it a relationship. The breakup wasn’t even a breakup, just them moving seamlessly into being friends instead. And now, years later, things are easy and comfortable. But when the first of their friends get married, Jimin starts to see things, and Seokjin, in a new light.

not spring, love, or cherry blossoms by jinminrising (xiujaemin)

summary: On the spring of 1988, Jimin feels the giddiness of first love. But happiness isn’t all there is to falling in love, and Jimin realize that maybe the heartache isn’t all that worth it.

Coffee shop/ Bakery/ Flower shop/ Book shop

you make me bloom by orphan_account

summary: In their flower shop, sunflowers bloom only when Jimin is happy. For all the years he's lived with Seokjin, there's a new one in the bathtub every morning.

Love You A Latte by gardenjins

Summary: Kim Seokjin was not a coffee person.

Ninety percent milk was…well, it was still coffee. But it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not when he found himself staring at a graceful swan every time he took another sip.

Wait, did he say cute barista?

cherry picking by untilitbreaks

summary: Jimin meets a beautiful man named Seokjin, and allows him and his charismatic coworkers to fit into his life and teach him the meaning of honesty, love, and self-acceptance in a battle against his anxiety.

Canon Verse

blooming starlight by anakhronism (orphan_account)

summary: With his arms around Seokjin's waist and Taehyung's words ringing in the back of his mind like alarm bells, Jimin realizes he and Seokjin might not be just friends.

The rarest pair by closetfairy

summary: The boys get curious about their fanfiction stats. Everyone laughs about their ship rankings, but Jimin can't get the thought of him and Jin being incompatible out of his head.

rivers connecting lines by ninemoons42

summary: Time is slipping through Jin's fingers, but fortunately Jimin has no plans of letting (him) go.

You're the Moon by hopelessandcynical

summary: seokjin manages to get some vacation time and surprises jimin at home after seeing his guilty video and then they proceed to be the cutest boyfriends for about 5k words. that's it, that's the story.

Satisfied by peridotfairy

summary: Jimin had always sought perfection and for a moment, he'd thought he'd found it in Kim Seokjin.

what sweet addiction this is, darling by stickyrum

summary: "You know, this would be so much easier if we could just say, 'going on a date," Seokjin murmured under his breath, threading Jimin's fingers with his and sliding their hands into the pocket of his coat.

Youth by taejinyo

summary: Jimin sees stars in Seokjin's eyes.

just let me love you by wonsteapot

summary: Jimin shifted in his seat, a steady heat flickering to life in his gut as the realization slowly dawned on him.

Seokjin was flirting with him.

ABO Verse

Wild Woods Calling by MmeIrene

summary: Seokjin wakes up in a world not his own, a world full of wolves and danger, where betas are prized beyond reckoning for their healing abilities and the local wolf packs would do anything - anything - to claim a beta for their own.

Lost by lovewaves (jinsan)

summary: Omega Seokjin is bestowed to Alpha Jimin who shows him that love is a kind of holiness.

The Fox Who Stole the Moon by MissCeeEmBee

summary: On his way to another futile matchmaking meeting, gumiho Prince Jimin is waylaid by a strange creature of fire and ash. To protect himself from deadly injuries, his transforms into a fox.

Disgraced Healer Seokjin comes across the poor creature and takes it back to his supposedly haunted hanok to recover. Jimin discovers that perhaps he was looking for his precious mate in all of the wrong places.

It's You by nunu_noodles

summary: Seokjin has turned 25 years old, which means his time is up.

No more grace period, no more time for romance.

These days, they can only wait so long for nature to take it's own course, ever since nature stopped working the way it should, and the worlds population started slowing down.

It's time for the tireless wheels of the government to turn and procure him a mate.

Selfish (for now) by monomoonluv (jooniebug_95)

summary: Natural Born Vampire Princes Seokjin and Jimin have been best friends almost their entire lives. But with Seokjin's impending engagement he realizes that maybe his feelings for Jimin were something else entirely.

Actor/Singer/Artist Au

Myself in the Sea by bangtanagan

summary: He’s a good actor. He’s not sure when he started using it like this, to hide from his friends too.

These days, Seokjin feels like a passenger in his own life.

Cake Waltz by gardenjins

summary: Jimin works for a catering company and bumps into handsome prince famous actor Seokjin at a ball fancy business event

the portrait by orphan_account, raplinehoes

summary: Seokjin is a bored rich man who seeks something, anything, to give his life a meaning, until he finds the perfect painting: a portrait made by one artist named Park Jimin.

this is my second date by misspamela

summary: In his defense, it wasn’t Seokjin’s fault he didn’t notice the near-apocalyptic storm raging outside or a small avalanche hitting the resort’s backup generator. How could he be expected to focus on something as trivial as the weather when the hottest guy he’d ever seen in his life was riding him like he was trying to kill him?

Fake/ Pretend Relationship

Fate in The Papers by yoonminnycupcake

summary: Seokjin and Jimin gets drunk married to each other.

down to deny by tullycat

summary: If Seokjin had to choose a friend to fake date, life or death, gun-held-to-his-head decision, Jimin would be at the top. Jimin is cute, Seokjin is cute, they're both comfortable with physical affection, especially with each other. How hard could it be?

High School/College/University

Sweet Smiles (are Natural Disasters) by VenusBiTrap (ShineyT)

summary: Seokjin can see his friend is really uncomfortable with a stranger's flirty advances, so he interrupts and introduces himself and gets a date.

we were written in the stars by stickyrum

summary: In the now empty clubroom, he reached up and caught the kiss before it could fly away to some other hopeless idiot with a crush and made his way back to his little desk, face aflame. Seokjin read his horoscopes. Kim Seokjin, senior president, business and food industry major, read Jimin's horoscopes.

A Comfort-Colored Thing by exfatamorgana

summary: Bedtime stories are for babies.

It's not tough, I just miss you by onlypreciousloves

summary: It’s Valentine's Day, their first anniversary as a couple. Yet there’s thousands of miles between them and Jimin feels guilty that he’s lonely. A long distance relationship is so much more difficult than Jimin had imagined.

break a leg by ultjinmin

summary: Jimin just wanted to practice in peace. He hadn't meant to meet Kim Seokjin, or agree to be the choreographer for his upcoming show.

But now all Jimin wants to do is impress Seokjin. Just once.

you tread a fine line by wonsteapot

summary: Jimin has never understood the hype around Kim Seokjin. He'd rather live a life where he didn't have to come into close proximity with the other man.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans for them.

Holiday Wish List by xiujaemin

summary: There’s a fine line between taking risks and being stupid. Jimin seems to be treading somewhere in between. If anybody asks though, he'd probably say it's Taehyung's fault.

Red Cheeks by orphan_account

summary: “Yah!” Seokjin lifted his arms protectively as Jimin raised the textbook again, his cheeks a furious red, “You said to be honest with you! Why are you hitting me?”

치맥 (Hello, Delivery Boy) by TrappingLightningBugs

summary: If you ask Jimin now, he would tell you love smells like fried chicken and looks like a very drunk university student.

If you asked him before, he would call those the recipe for a very annoying Friday night.

smooth sea never made a skilled sailor by stickyrum (Restricted)

summary: A lash of pain split open across his calf. He jerked away instinctively, limping out of the water and kneeling down on the sand, his leg stinging fiercely. A welt had formed a loose ring just above his ankle. He glanced up in time to see a pale, gelatinous blob sink beneath the waves again, its tentacles causing the water to writhe like a pool of sea serpents. A jellyfish.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Jimin cursed under his breath.

i think about you all the time by seokjininheaven

summary: When Seokjin asks Jimin if he'd like to be friends with benefits again, Jimin's answer is the last thing he expects.

But it just might be the push he needed to realize some things

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.3)

Pt.2 || Pt.4

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

Recap: "I hope you know you didn't ruin anything. My husband and I feel very strongly, even more so now, that you're the perfect fit fr our family." Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; you were sure you blew your chance to bits, but here she is, offering it all on a silver platter for you.

On your way back to your suite, you try calling your dad three different times, and each time the calls go straight to voicemail. For the most part, you've gotten used to getting his voicemail and can even recite it word for word- but right now, him being here for you is crucial. Even though your mom couldn't make the time to actually be here, at least she shows she cares, even if it is through blowing up your phone every hour; at least it's something. She even helped pick out the gifts for the Jeons: gold cuff links for Mr.Jeon, a lovely pair of jade earrings for Mrs.Jeon, and a silver chain with a medallion fo Jungkook. All your life, your dad said he couldn't wait to be there for when you would finally sign the agreement that they'd spent years tailoring and planning, only to cancel last minute because of work. Well, if he wants to leave you out in the cold to figure this out by yourself, then you're gonna do it your way.

Once inside the suite, you peel off the pretty little outfit you'd carefully put together for tea and toss it onto the bed, switching into a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized sweater, and the warmest socks you packed. You're finally going to dive into the manila envelope. You plop yourself into bed and take out everything, ignoring the initial feeling of being overwhelmed at the sight of the busy papers, looking past the legal jargon to find the bare bones of it all. In a matter of twenty minutes, you're completely locked in; you highlight, circle, annotate, even cross out some parts. You slowly realize how little your parents are settling for in this "partnership", as your dad likes to call it. According to this contract, their precious daughter is only worth 15% of the 'Jeon Empire', while Jeon Jungkook will be the majority owner of June Company, including hotels, restaurants, as well as owning shares in your parents' company and other smaller endeavors. Well, that just won't do. If you're going to be committing yourself to a marriage, it's for the long haul. All of your adolescent and teenage years were spent avoiding boys like the plague for fear of getting too attached and ruining your parents' dream for your life. Even your college years have been all about work and climbing up the ladder to get to this point- 15% is horse shit.

After three agonizingly long hours, the contract looks like a Frankensteined version of itself; torn apart and put back together. You hold it up in triumph- you almost want to take a picture just for the memories. "Proud of you," B/f/n says through a loud yawn. You had to call her about an hour in for moral support. "No, don't be tired. You can't be tired. It's still early!" "Hun, it's 3AM here." "Oh right..." You sigh, stuffing the contract back in the envelope, "I forgot about the time difference... ugh, I'm just so bored here. I have nothing to do." "Girl, you're at a whole luxurious hotel, all expenses paid- if I were you, I'd be doing a spa day, visiting the restaurants, drinking up all their liquor- you just don't like being alone." You roll your eyes. She's right, of course, but you're not gonna give her any validation. "I guess I'll just try to get some sleep...I have a big day tomorrow." "What time are you meeting them?" "We're meeting for brunch at 11." "First it was 'high tea' and now Brunch," She echoes with a sleepy smile, "How classy." You roll your eyes, "Good night, B/f/n," You laugh. She waves lazily and then you hang up the phone. "Well, since this is an all expenses paid hotel..." You bite your lip and look over at the door, "...I'm gonna go use their copier."

AT 6AM, your alarm goes off scaring you violently awake. It had taken you hours to finally fall asleep in the first place. You'd tried to close your eyes after your face time, but ended up tossing and turning until 2AM. This jet lag is something else. Or maybe it was stress for today; I mean, you are preparing to sign a contract to marry a man you hardly know (and also kinda hate), which was essentially created when you weren't even a thought in your parents' mind yet, which will, in turn, lead to lifelong stability for you and your family as well as further growth for your family's businesses so everything is kind of on your shoulders and will all fall apart if you don't do your respective part- oh God, you might have a panic attack and you haven't even gotten out of bed yet.

You speed through your morning routine so that you can look over your edits again, though as soon as you sit down, your phone begins to buzz with all your incoming notifications. You scroll through, ignoring some texts, answering a few emails- and then you come across one from your dad from an hour ago. You take a sip of your coffee as you open up the message and, when you do, you almost spit the coffee out against the pretty clean white hotel wall. Staring at you is the "finalized contract" (or so it's entitled) that your dad made 'edits' on for you to print out and sign. You look over the entire thing and with every sentence you read, you feel the anger rising in you. The "edits" he made didn't even make the deal that much better for you, not to mention, how can your dad flake on you in regards to coming on this trip, ignore your calls and texts, but still have the nerve to send me this shitty contract at the asscrack of dawn on the DAY OF the supposed signing? Fuck that. You're gonna send them your draft and your parents can cry about it. You're done doing things their way. You open up your laptop and quickly go to your saved files, opening up YOUR finalized version that you'd scanned and re-typed. You cue it up in a message and type in Mr. and Mrs.Jeon's email addresses, along with their lawyer's email. For a moment, you hesitate, letting the mouse hover over the 'send' button, but then you count how many times your parents have made you feel completely alone in just the duration of this trip, plus every time you've had to make yourself small for others to be big- "Fuck it." You hit send and then close your laptop to put your outfit together for brunch.

Brunch is held on the balcony at their hotel restaurant, Juniper. The vibe is definitely upper class, and you see it's bustling with guests. "Hello, Miss; will you be dining alone?" The hostess asks. You shake your head, "No, actually- I'm with the Jeon party." Her eyes widen for a second before she bows, "Oh yes, Ms.L/n, allow me to show you to your table. You smile and bow in return, feeling slightly embarrassed that she clearly felt the urge to kiss your ass a little extra just for being associated with the Jeons. She leads you around the corner to a wall of windows, much like the ones on the roof top when you'd gone for tea. As she opens the double doors, you see Mr. and Mrs.Jeon sat at a table straight ahead, Jungkook's back facing you. Your heart starts beating rapidly in your chest; it's happening. This is it. The entire ride here, you were psyching yourself up saying you'd be confident and strong and that if they didn't like the changes you'd made to the contract, they could kiss your ass- but right now, you feel your legs might turn to Jello. "Y/n!" Mrs.Jeon calls out excitedly, getting out of her seat and running over to you. Mr.Jeon and Jungkook look over in your direction; one giving you a big smile and the other...with a rather unreadable expression on his face. You smile and bow, "Good morning everyone." She politely dismisses the hostess and guides you to the table, where Mr.Jeon and Jungkook are standing to greet you. "Annyeonghasimnikka," You bow again. "So polite, isn't she Jungkook?" Mr.Jeon says, lightly hitting Jungkook's shoulder. You bow slightly, "Hello, Jungkook." He nods, "Hey." "Please, sit," Mrs.Jeon says. You immediately notice that Mr.Jeon is wearing the cuff links you'd gotten him, and Mrs.Jeon is wearing the earrings; Jungkook seemed to be the only one not wearing his gift. Figures. "We haven't ordered just yet so you have some time to think about what you want." "Oh that's okay, I'll take whatever you recommend." "Oh, I love that. I'm getting you my favorite- the praline french toast is so good paired with the fritata and...the eggs benedict with salmong." "Sounds good," You laugh, finding it endearing how excited she is. You wonder if she ever chews Jungkook out like your mom does to you You spend most of the time talking to Mr. and Mrs.Jeon; basic chit chat about life, how the food was, and other pleasantries- until Mr.Jeon receives a call and excuses himself from the table for a moment. Then, Mrs.Jeon says she wants to check in with the chef about something really quickly, leaving you and Jungkook at the table alone. You take a sip on your mimosa and then turn to him, "How are you, Jungkook?" He straightens up a bit and clears his throat, "I'm fine. How about yourself?" "I'm good...I- I'm hopeful that today's meeting goes well." He nods slowly, seeming deeply pensive about what you've said, "Well, it should be quite lucrative for you if it does." His tone is almost bitter-sounding. You furrow your brows, not liking how he's making it seem that you'd be the only one benefiting. "Well, according to the contract, it should be quite beneficial for the both of us, wouldn't you say?" "Oh, please. What are pennies to bills," He scoffs. "I mean, considering you can't even get a penny of mommy and daddy's money unless you get married, I'd say we're in the same boat," You lean back, deciding you're done with the niceties. He wants to be a jerk? Two can play. He glares at you, knowing you're right but, of course, refusing to admit it. "Don't you ever get tired?" "Of what?" He asks, face scrunching in annoyance. "Of the stick up your ass?" You smirk, crossing one leg over the other as your swirl your glass from the stem. "This whole thing is fucked and you know it," He says, throwing himself against the backrest of the chair in defeat. You nod slowly and thoughtfully, "Maybe, but as I always says, 'Anything worth having is worth fighting for.'" He rolls his eyes, "Whatever."

"Sorry, Kids. I just had to get that done before I forgot. Is your father still not back yet?" Mrs.Jeon asks, sitting back down at the table and looking around. "No, I guess he's still on the call," You say, "He sounds like my dad." Mrs.Jeon laughs, "Well, birds of a feather flock together." "I'm sorry everyone- Y/n, I just got off the phone with your father. Goodness, it's such a shame he couldn't come," Mr.Jeon says, a big smile on his face as he sits down. "You- you spoke to my dad?" "I sure did. I'd called him this morning about the finalized contract he'd sent me last night but he didn't get back to me until now since he was on the golf course." It takes everything in you to keep your eye from twitching. The golf course. Priorities. You plaster a fake smile on your face and clear your throat, "Actually, Mr.Jeon, the one he sent you is not the finalized version." He looks up confused, "No?" You shake your head and reach into your purse for the crisp new manila envelope, "I had to make some edits of my own." They all look at each other and then back at you, "Oh- alright," Mr.Jeon takes the envelope and he and Mrs.Jeon look over it together. You can practically see the gears in their heads turning, meanwhile, Jungkook is looking at you with his eyes narrowed wondering what it is you're up to. "Y/n," Mr.Jeon laughs nervously, "This is...substantially more than what your father and I had previously discussed." You nod, "Oh yes. 40% more, to be exact." "Mhm..." Mr.Jeon hands the paper to Mrs.Jeon who continues reading. "I believe the 15% we'd originally agreed upon was quite generous as even a fraction of the money we receive from the various businesses would be quite a profit for you." You purse your lips as you listen, trying your best to be as respectful as possible, "Yes, that's true. It would be quite a lot, however, I think it's reasonable to divide assets 50/50 between spouses, seeing as how I'll not only be a part of June Company itself but also be behind the scenes as a wife. Not to mention, when I have kids, there is no longer incentive for Jungkook to stay married to me, is there?" Mr.Jeon looks at his wife, who is looking back at him with the same concerned expression. "Y/n, our motivation for having you marry our son isn't to...produce an heir," Mr.Jeon says, "It's to help him mature and give him something to work for." "Dad, I don't need to get married to mature. I'm capable and I'm ready to run the company. Please, just let me show-" "You shut your mouth. With all the debt you've gotten me in with your incessant partying, the charges in property damage-" Mr.Jeon's face is turning more and more red, while Jungkook just looks away. He's completely quiet as he his father continues hurling criticisms and but Mrs.Jeon puts her hand on his chest to keep him from saying any more. "Mr.Jeon, I want to be able to help all of you- but I think both I and Jungkook are sacrificing a lot, and a large portion of that sacrifice is on yours and my parents' behalf. He and I will both be turning our lives around for the sake of our families. I just want to make sure we're both getting what we need from this." Jungkook turns slowly to look at you, his expression softening, along with his father's. Mr.Jeon is silent for a little while. "I understand if this is something you and your family cannot get behind and if that's the case, we can rip up this contract and put it all behind us, no harm done- but if you all want this as much as we do, these are my conditions," You say as gently as possible. You glance at Jungkook, whose eyes are fixed on you- causing for you to quickly look back at Mr. and Mrs.Jeon. "Well...I think we'll need some time to think this over. I'll have my lawyer look this over and we'll let you know what we've decided by tonight. How's that sound?" Mr.Jeon asks, giving you a tired smile. You nod, "That sounds just fine, Mr.Jeon. Take all the time you need."

You grab your bag and stand up and everyone else follows suit, "I had a lovely brunch. Thank you so much for putting it together for us to have this meeting." You turn to Jungkook, "I hope we're able to move forward together," You say with a bow and, for the first time, he bows in return. "Please have a good rest of your day," Mrs.Jeon says, stepping forward and hugging you goodbye. "And as always, please let us know if you need anything," Mr.Jeon says with a genuine expression. You nod, "I will."

Of course, not two hours since your brunch with the Jeons, and your dad was already blowing up your phone. How interesting the way that works, isn't it? Your dad only calls when you don't do things exactly as he asks. You sent every single call to voicemail until they stopped coming in altogether- though he'll most likely call right before bed. You'd spent the rest of the day out and about near the hotel; something you thought you wouldn't get a chance to do this time around. It helped to get your mind off things for a minute. You'd even gone to a cute little cafe and answered some of your work emails (you can't ever completely disconnect, though it doesn't hurt to at least have a change of scenery).

By the time you come back to your suite, it's already 8PM, though of course you're not even a bit tired, so you decide to bother B/f/n for a bit. "Mm...hello?" "Hello," You practically sing into the phone, "did I wake you?" "Mhm..." "Well, wake up- I gotta tell you what happened today." "Y/n, look, I promise I'm interested but I do not have the mental capacity to receive any new information right now..." "You're no fun." "Hey, I already told you, you have other options for entertainment." "The spa's closed right now, I've already gone to the eateries inside this hotel, I've used the free wifi and even the copier. I've done everything, there's nothing left, B/f/n," You whine. "Not everything..." She says, sleepily eyeing you. You instantly know whatb she means and you violently shake your head. "Nope. Uh-uh. I am NOT getting a drink by myself." "Oh come on, if you wear one of those skimpy little dresses you packed, I promise you won't be alone for long." You narrow your eyes at her, "How do you know I packed skimpy dresses?" "You just told me," She smirks. How does she do that? "And what am I supposed to do if a man walks up to me and offers me a drink thinking he's gonna get some?" "Oh come on, you're not even engaged yet. Live a little." You roll your eyes, "Clearly, you're very sleep deprived and that's why you're talking crazy. Call me when you're rested." "Sounds like a plan," She says before abruptly hanging up the call.

You sit and look over at your suitcase, contemplating your next move... "I guess a drink won't hurt."

The hotel bar is nicely tucked away on the first floor, a small ways away from the lobby. It's decorated with gold trim and pretty golden flowers along the cherry-wood walls. The vibe is definitely dark and sultry- you suppose you dressed appropriately: off the shoulder a-line mini dress and some simple strappy heels. You put a lot of effort into looking effortless tonight. It's not as packed as you expected, though it's definitely not empty; people are sat at various tables, holding conversations, the occasional stray laugh reaching your ears over the soft music. You'd hyped yourself up before coming down, saying you weren't gonna worry about who was or wasn't looking at you; you were just going down to have a drink and then go right back up- but when you realize the room is full of mostly men, you hesitate to take a seat. "Welcome in- can I get you anything, Miss?" The bartender, a kind-looking older gentleman, asks when he sees the lost puppy look on your face. "I-uhm, yes. I'll take an espresso martini, please?" "Of course." You set your clutch down on the bar and then take a seat. "Meeting anyone?" The bartender asks. You laugh sheepishly, "No, just...wanted to get out of my room." "I suppose that's a good thing," He says. You furrow your brows, wondering if he's gonna take the opportunity to be creepy, "And why is that?" "Because that young man over there has been watching you since you walked in," He says, nodding behind you. Your heart flutters a bit, and you feel flattered by the possibility of someone actually checking you out.

You turn slowly to where he'd nodded and scan for a moment before finally seeing him. How did I not notice him before? "That's the hotel owner's son, you know," The bartender adds. Jungkook's expression is a bit unreadable, but he's definitely looking at you. His eyes are completely fixed. You turn around quickly and bite your lip. You can't leave now, he'll know it was because of him and you can't stand the idea of him feeling like he drove you out of that bar. No way. You straighten out your back, forcing your body to relax as much as possible- or at least have the appearance of relaxation. The man puts your drink in front of you, and you gingerly take your first sip. "How can you drink those things?" Jungkook's unmistakeable voice says from right behind you, causing you to choke and spit some of your drink back into the glass. Your eyes widen in horror. "Bless you," He smirks. He looks over at the bar tender and signals holding up two fingers, to which the man nods. "Jungkook," His name feels so strange on your tongue; up until this trip, you've just refered to him as 'the Jeon's son', and using his name still feels so...intimate, somehow. He leans back in his seat, looking at you as though he's sizing you up, "And who, might I ask, did you dress up for tonight?" "Myself." You say, side-eyeing him. He's very brazen for someone you've only just met again after so many years. "Hm." "Hm, what?"

"Oh nothing...it's just, well, humans are performative beings, you know? Everything we do, whether consciously or not, is to attract." "Oh? And you're saying this to imply that I'm trying to attract someone?" You take another sip of your drink, trying to hide your unexpected nervousness. He shrugs, a cocky smile spreading across his face. "And who do you think I'm trying to attract, Jungkook? You?" You scoff. "Hey, you said it." You blush slightly and look down at your drink, your fingertip running up and down the stem of the glass. He definitely smells like he's been drinking- a lot- but you also catch hints of musk and wood- even burnt cinnamon. Shitty men shouldn't smell this damn good. You glance down at his neck and squint your eyes; is that-? "You're wearing the necklace?" He furrows his brows for a second in confusion before the realization sets in, "Oh- yeah. I look good, don't I?" His lips turn up into a coy smile. You clear your throat and shrug, "I think I'm just good at picking out jewelry." He chuckles and shakes his head, "Your disdain for me is quite amusing." "Almost as amusing as your insistence on flirting with me." "Well, don't get too flattered, you might fall in love." "Ha," You scoff. The bartender sets two shots down in front of Jungkook, who then slides one over to you. "What's this for?" You ask, immediately suspicious. "To celebrate." "Celebrate what?" "Us, of course." "Oh please," You roll your eyes, "Just the other day you were yelling at me and accusing me of attacking you, then you implied that I was some sort of gold digger and was just trying to mooch off of you." He nods thoughtfully, "Yes, that's true, I said some pretty...crass things. I suppose I should apologize for that. As far as the shot, well- I've decided to accept it." "Accept...what?" "The fact that this train is leaving with or without our 'yes', so we may as well enjoy the ride along the way, right?" As he says this, his eyes fall slightly, and only for a moment. You almost wonder if you'd seen it at all. "And what's caused this change of heart?" "Truthfully...this entire arrangement has been hanging over my head all my life. It felt like a noose slowly getting tighter and tighter. But seeing my father so stunned by your demands...it felt like my first deep breath in a while." You're surprised at how genuine Jungkook is being right now, though before you're able to respond to what he's just said, your phone buzzes in your clutch. "Excuse me," You say. It's a text message from Mr.Jeon. You quickly swipe it open and your mouth drops in shock. 𝙼𝚛.𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗: 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝚈/𝚗- 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚆𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝟷𝟸𝙿𝙼 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝.

You look up back up at Jungkook, who simply picks up the shot and holds it up in the air, "To the ride." Your shocked expression turns into a smile, and all you can think to do is pick your shot up as well. "To the ride."

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 24 of 30

1023words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Jin seems relieved when Namjoon finally contacts him. Apparently, the guy had been calling twice a day and texting even more just for the chance to apologise. Namjoon locked himself away for over an hour talking to the doctor. From the snippets you could overhear from passing by the door, it seems they had long since moved on from talking about Jungkook and had moved on to what they should bring on vacation.

You were set to go to the beach in just over a week and you couldn't wait. 

You had been bouncing around work filled with anxious energy all week. It was difficult to focus on the work when all you really wanted was to be in the cottage preparing to leave. You had never been on a proper vacation before and the anticipation was making your skin crawl. 

Taehyung kept laughing every time he saw you glance at a clock, willing it to move faster. Your coworkers just shook their heads at you, having already given up on you getting any actual work done. 

Jungkook is struggling to keep his excitement at bay just as much as you. Taehyung had handed him a black credit card and told the bunny to go nuts on new wardrobes for each of you. Over the past three days, more than 20 packages have arrived, with more on the way apparently.

Each night when you all return home, Jungkook holds you each hostage for a fashion show, he even summons Jin to join you.

He hands each of you a selection of outfit choices and runs to wait in the living room. You run through the first few outfits with ease. A selection of playsuits and dresses that you may not have picked for yourself, but you can't deny look cute. The entire experience is reminiscent of when your husband would hire people to come in and fit you for banquet dressed. 

Back then you would try to show your husband the options you had been presented with and he would barely look up from his phone to appraise each one. Jungkook on the other hand delighted in each outfit displayed for him. The bunny had cleared the coffee table out of the way and turned on someone's premade montage playlist. He was having far too much fun watching each of you as you emerged from different rooms in different outfits.

Occasionally you would each catch sight of one another as your try-on sessions synced up and you couldn't deny that Jungkook had great taste for all of you. From basic board shorts to sheer button-ups, he had chosen some excellent pieces, even if he had gone overboard with the amount ordered. 

You eventually come across a dress that you are incapable of doing up without help, beautiful crisscrossing laces too intricate for you to even attempt alone. You hold the top up so it can't fall away from your chest and make your way into the living room with the hope that Jungkook knows how to do the garment up. What you weren't expecting was to find all of the boys standing in the living room in matching shirts. 

They all look up at you simultaneously, and you find yourself getting very shy. You can't help but feel very aware of the fact your top could fall down at any moment. 

"A little help?" You ask sheepishly, turning around to show them the back.

"Only if that help is to take it off." Taehyung quips.

Jimin slaps him on the arm but the younger man makes no moves to take the statement back. 

"That's a very brave statement for a man that hasn't even managed to kiss her yet." Yoongi chuckles. 

"Don't remind me," Taehyung grumbles. 

The squabbling continues between the three of them and Jin takes that as his opportunity to help you out. His nimble fingers make quick work of the bows and the dress is finally secured. You spin to show off the full effect of the garment. The skirt swishes around your thighs, riding up a little too high as you spin too fast. 

The playful argument calms down as all of their attentions return to you, or more accurately return to your bare legs. 

"You really have great taste there Kookie." Namjoon compliments the youngest, without taking his attention from you

His eyes rake down your curves. You can't tell if he is appreciating the dress, or imagining you without it. The thought makes your stomach flip. 

"Right, well if we are in agreement that I should keep this then I am going to go and get changed. Could you give me a hand?" You signal to the ties and Jin graciously complies.

He unties each string much slower than he had done them up and you could've sworn his fingers lingered on your bare skin more than necessary. When he is finished you disappear quickly back into the bathroom you had been using to change and slide on your pyjamas instead. You fold the items Jungkook had provided into separate keep and return piles.

By the time you emerge, everyone is sitting in comfortable clothes in the living room.

You smile when you see Jin sitting in Namjoon's lap, all remnants of their argument forgiven for now. 

"We ordered Chinese, is that okay?" Jimin asks as you slide onto the sofa between him and Jungkook.

"Sounds delicious." You say, leaning across to peck him on the cheek.

He turns his head just in time to capture your lips with his instead, giggling as your eyes widen. A pillow hits your head as you pull away.

"Sorry, I meant to hit him," Taehyung says, aiming at Jimin with a second pillow.

Before he gets the chance to launch, Yoongi plucks it from his hands and hits him round the head instead. 

"Jealousy isn't a pretty colour on you Taehyung." The jackal says, dropping the pillow back on the chair where it belongs. 

"Everything is a pretty colour on me." Taehyung counters.

No one else gets a chance to reply before the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of dinner.

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn't have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you're feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn't have to be BTS

[jeonjayykkayy]

Her

pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Romance/ Angst/ Drama/ SlowBurn

Words- Approx. 6000

CHAPTER-0.4

Namjoon’s perspective

I noticed it the moment she walked into the dining hall.

Something was off.

Y/N was quieter than usual. Not that she was ever loud, but today… she seemed distant. Detached.

Her shoulders were stiff, her posture too rigid, like she was holding something in—something heavy.

I had seen this look before.

Guilt.

But why?

I watched her closely as she lowered herself into the chair across me, her hands resting motionlessly in her lap.

Her eyes flickered over the food on the table, but she didn’t reach for anything.

That was the first sign.

Y/N never skipped meals.

She wasn’t one to indulge, but she also wasn’t the type to sit in front of untouched food, as if the mere thought of eating turned her stomach.

I set my glass down, my gaze steady on her.

“Good morning,” I greeted.

There was a pause—just a fraction of a second too long—before she responded.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was quiet. Strained.

My fingers tightened around the glass.

I wanted to ask.

I wanted to know.

But I didn’t.

Because Y/N wasn’t the type to answer if she didn’t want to.

Instead, I watched.

She stared at her plate, her expression unreadable.

But I could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers curled ever so slightly in her lap.

Something was weighing on her.

And whatever it was—it was eating her alive.

She didn’t eat.

Not a single bite.

I waited, giving her time, but the food in front of her remained untouched.

She wasn’t even pretending to eat—wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was utterly disconnected from everything around her.

My chest tightened.

I leaned forward slightly.

“Y/N.”

She blinked, as if coming back from somewhere far away.

I kept my voice light, careful. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

Her throat bobbed.

For a moment, I thought she was going to ignore me. But then, slowly, she reached for her fork.

The movement was forced.

She picked up a piece of food and brought it to her mouth.

But as she swallowed, I saw the way her throat tightened, the way her body tensed as if the act itself was painful.

She wasn’t hungry.

She was forcing herself.

For me.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Good.”

But inside, I wasn’t smiling.

Because I knew.

She was carrying something.

Something she wouldn’t say.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what it was.

The silence stretched between us as breakfast continued.

She barely spoke, answering only when necessary. But the most noticeable thing?

She wasn’t looking at me.

She was avoiding me.

That realization settled in my chest like a dull ache.

I exhaled quietly, leaning back in my chair.

“Spend some time with me today?”

It was more of a request than a demand.

Y/N’s body tensed immediately.

She wasn’t expecting that.

I watched the way her fingers curled tighter into her lap, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Then, she nodded.

“Of course.”

Her voice was soft. Controlled.

But I wasn’t blind.

Something flickered in her expression. Guilt.

I wanted to reach across the table, to take her hand in mine and ask—What is it? Why do you look like you’re punishing yourself?

But I didn’t.

Because I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear the answer.

As she left the dining hall, I watched her carefully.

Something had changed.

And I had a feeling I knew what—or rather, who—it involved.

Jungkook.

My jaw tightened.

He was a worker. A server. Someone who wasn’t even supposed to be in the same world as her.

And yet, somehow, I knew.

He had gotten close.

Too close.

My fingers tapped against the table, my mind already working through the possibilities.

Y/N was trying to run from something.

She wouldn’t tell me. She wouldn’t admit it.

But I wasn’t blind.

And I wasn’t going to let it slide.

Author's perspective

The hallway was dimly lit, the golden sconces flickering faintly against the polished wooden walls.

The air inside the yacht carried a hushed silence, broken only by the distant hum of waves crashing against the grand vessel.

Y/N hurried toward her room, her breath uneven, her thoughts a chaotic mess.

She needed to be alone—to escape the guilt gnawing at her, the ache sitting heavy in her chest.

But fate had other plans.

Just as she turned the corner, her body collided with someone. A hard, warm chest.

A familiar presence.

Her eyes snapped up, and her breath hitched.

Jungkook.

Her heart stopped.

For a moment, she stood frozen, staring at him. But then reality crashed in, and she took a step back, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

She needed to leave. Now.

Without a word, she turned on her heel, trying to walk past him.

But his hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm grip.

Her pulse spiked.

"Going somewhere, princess?" His voice was low, dangerously calm, yet something beneath it burned.

Y/N’s throat went dry. She glanced around quickly—checking, praying that Namjoon or anyone else wasn’t nearby. If they saw this, if they saw her with him—

"Let me go, Jungkook," she hissed, keeping her voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn't.

Instead, he pulled her toward him, backing her into the nearest corner. The wooden panel behind her was cool, but his body in front of hers was burning hot.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he asked, his tone sharper now.

Y/N clenched her jaw. "That’s none of your business."

Jungkook let out a short, humorless chuckle.

"It is," he murmured. "Whether you like it or not, it became my business the day you looked at me like you did. The moment you almost kissed me."

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath.

Her chest tightened, her mind screaming at her to deny it—to push away the memory of that almost-kiss, of how she had wanted it, craved it.

She tilted her chin up, masking her swirling emotions behind cold indifference.

"You don’t belong here, Jungkook," she said flatly. "You're just a waiter. A worker. A man who serves drinks to people like me."

For a fleeting second, something flickered in Jungkook’s expression.

Hurt?

No. It was gone in an instant, replaced with something much stronger.

"What makes you so sure about that?" he asked quietly.

Y/N took a breath, steeling herself. "Because how could a poor man like you ever afford a woman like me?"

Silence.

Jungkook’s grip on her wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

Then, he smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

"Your love," he answered simply.

Y/N’s entire body froze.

Her stomach twisted, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She opened her mouth—to say something, to deny it, to run.

But before she could—

She heard voices.

From down the hall.

Jungkook’s gaze flicked toward the approaching sound, then back at her. And in an instant, he grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

"Jungkook—!"

But she didn't resist.

Y/N didn’t know why she had brought him here.

Her room was too personal, too dangerous, but at the same time, it was the only place she knew no one would dare to enter without knocking.

The second the door shut behind them, she spun around, her breaths uneven, her hands trembling with the weight of everything crashing over her.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded.

Jungkook stood in front of her, his expression unreadable, his hands tucked into his pockets as if he wasn’t phased by the storm raging inside her.

"Money?" Y/N pressed, voice sharp. "A permanent job?"

Jungkook remained silent.

"Or is it…" she swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "My virginity?"

Something darkened in his eyes.

"You think that low of me?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Y/N’s throat tightened.

"If I wanted money, I would’ve gone straight to the owner," Jungkook continued, his words slow and deliberate. "If I wanted a job, I would’ve asked for it."

He took a single step forward.

"And your virginity?"

Y/N stilled.

Jungkook leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I'm not that cheap, princess."

A shiver ran down her spine.

"Then what do you want?" she whispered.

Jungkook’s expression softened—but only slightly.

"You," he said simply.

Y/N sucked in a breath.

"I want you to love me back," Jungkook murmured. "I want you to kiss me like you're losing your mind. I want you to touch me like I'm the only thing keeping you breathing."

His voice lowered.

"I want you to look at me like you did that night—like I’m the only thing that exists."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, her heart betraying her.

"You're an idiot," she choked out.

Jungkook smirked. "I know."

Her composure shattered.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent but heavy, her hands trembling as she fisted his shirt, gripping onto something—someone.

"I'm so tired," she whispered. "So, so tired, Jungkook."

His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his lips brushing against her forehead.

"I know," he murmured. "But I love you like nobody ever will."

Y/N shuddered.

The words were too much.

And yet—

She believed him.

Her fingers clutched onto his shirt, her body trembling as the weight of everything finally crashed down on her.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

The words hung in the air between them, fragile yet powerful, like a secret finally set free.

"I love you."

Jungkook stood frozen, his breath unsteady as he stared at her. He had spent days trying to pull the truth from her, teasing her, pushing her, watching her unravel piece by piece.

But he never expected this moment to come so soon—so raw, so real.

A slow, almost disbelieving smile curled on his lips. “Say it again.”

Y/N’s chest ached, her heart hammering against her ribs as she realized what she had just done.

She had crossed the line—the one she swore she wouldn’t. The one that separated right from wrong.

“I love you,” she whispered, softer this time.

Jungkook exhaled, his eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn’t quite name—something between hunger and desperation, between triumph and torment.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he murmured, his fingers trailing up to brush a loose strand of hair from her face.

“You just destroyed every last bit of control I had left.”

She shivered under his touch, under the weight of his words.

She was supposed to belong to Namjoon.

She was supposed to be his fiancée.

But here she was, melting under Jungkook’s gaze, feeling his hands on her, not Namjoon’s.

She clenched her fists, stepping back, shaking her head. “No… this is wrong.”

Jungkook’s expression hardened. “Then why does it feel right?”

Y/N swallowed. She couldn’t answer that.

Because deep down, she knew.

It was wrong. But with him, it was also the most intoxicating feeling she had ever known.

She turned away, pressing her palm against her forehead, trying to think.

“I should go. You should go.”

Jungkook didn’t move. Instead, he took a slow step toward her, his voice softer this time.

“You can lie to yourself, princess. But don’t lie to me.”

She shut her eyes, willing herself to ignore the way her body betrayed her, how her heart betrayed her.

Jungkook watched her, watched the way she trembled, the way she fought against herself.

And for the first time, he felt something close to pity.

She was drowning in guilt.

For Namjoon.

For herself.

For loving him when she shouldn’t.

He sighed, stepping back. “I’m not going to force you into anything, Y/N.”

His voice was quieter now, less teasing, more solemn.

“But don’t expect me to stop loving you just because you think it’s wrong.”

She turned to face him, eyes filled with conflict.

He smiled faintly, but there was something sad in it.

“I’ll wait for you to stop lying to yourself.”

And with that, he stepped back, letting go.

But even as he walked away, she knew—

He wasn’t really gone.

And he wouldn’t be.

Because love—especially this kind of love—never lets go that easily.

The morning light spilt through the tinted windows of the yacht, casting a soft golden hue on the cream-coloured hallway.

The world outside was silent, save for the gentle rocking of the waves against the hull.

The sea stretched endlessly, glistening under the rising sun, but inside these narrow corridors, the air was suffocating.

Jimin stood frozen.

His heart pounded against his ribs, his fingers tightening at his sides as he watched the door in front of him slowly creak open.

Jungkook stepped out.

The door clicked shut behind him, the sound too quiet, too careful. His posture was stiff, his head tilted slightly downward, as if he knew.

Knew that what he had just done was dangerous.

Knew that someone would see.

And yet, when he finally lifted his head, his eyes met Jimin’s without hesitation. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t apologize.

He just stared.

Something snapped inside Jimin.

His feet moved before he could stop them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His voice was low but sharp, cutting through the stillness of the early morning like a blade.

Jungkook didn’t answer.

The sunlight from the window behind him made the shadows on his face deeper, harsher, more unreadable. But Jimin knew.

He knew.

And that made it so much worse.

Jimin stepped closer, his breaths unsteady. The faint sounds of the yacht crew moving on the upper deck echoed somewhere far away, but down here, in this moment, it was just the two of them.

“She’s engaged.” Jimin’s voice was sharp, controlled—but barely. “To Kim Namjoon. Do you have any fucking idea what that means?”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed.

“I know.”

Jimin snapped.

“You know?” A bitter laugh escaped him, sharp and humorless. His patience was hanging by a thread.

“You know, and you still went to her? Met her? Jungkook, are you out of your fucking mind?”

Jungkook stayed silent.

Jimin felt a rush of anger so strong that his hands trembled. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

His voice dropped lower, but the fury in it was scalding. “She is engaged to Namjoon. Do you understand what that means? He has the power to destroy people like us. Break us. He could make us disappear with just a flick of his finger.”

Jungkook didn’t move.

Jimin stepped closer, his breath uneven. “Did you forget your fucking responsibility?”

His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed forward. “Did you forget about your mother—our mother—who is suffering while you’re here chasing after a woman who does not belong to you?”

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but no words came out.

Jimin scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t do this,” he whispered, voice raw.

“Fucking don’t do it. It won’t just ruin our lives, Jungkook. It will ruin hers, too.”

Jungkook snapped.

His head lifted, his eyes dark, filled with something that made Jimin’s chest ache.

“Is it that much of a crime to love someone?” Jungkook’s voice shook. “Am I committing a sin, Jimin? Do I not deserve her?”

Jimin’s heart stopped.

Jungkook had never said something like this before. Never questioned his own worth. Never looked so lost.

But Jimin couldn’t back down.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t. You don’t deserve her, Jungkook.” His voice was sharp, but filled with pain.

“She was born into a world of gold and diamonds. And you—” Jimin swallowed hard, steadying himself.

“You were born in a world of blood and bruises. How will she survive? How will you survive?”

Jungkook’s tears fell.

And then, in a voice so raw it shattered the air between them, he whispered,

“She told me she loves me.”

Jimin’s stomach plummeted.

His world tilted.

His lips parted slightly, his breath catching. “She... what?”

Jungkook swallowed, eyes distant. “She said she loves me,” he repeated, voice breaking. “A while ago.”

Jimin felt like the floor beneath him had disappeared.

It was too late.

Jungkook had already fallen.

Jimin closed his eyes, his chest aching. “Jungkook,” he whispered, “I know. I know you love her. I knew it the moment you told me.”

His voice turned heavy. “But do you really think these people will let you two live in peace?”

Jungkook’s lips trembled, but he didn’t back down.

“I don’t care,” he said.

Jimin’s hands curled into fists. “You should.” His voice broke. “Y/N will suffer, too. And you know it.”

Jungkook lifted his head. His jaw was set, his gaze burning. “I know.”

“Then stop.”

“I can’t.”

Jimin let out a shaky breath, his own eyes burning. “Your love is reckless, Jungkook.” His voice was pleading. “It’s not enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“It is enough.” His voice was steady now. “She loves me. I love her. That’s all that matters.”

Jimin’s heart ached.

“Namjoon loves her, too,” he whispered. His voice was almost unrecognizable—a warning, a plea. “And his love is dangerous, Jungkook.”

Silence.

Jungkook wiped his tears roughly, his walls coming back up.

“I don’t care,” he said again. “I came too far to back down now.”

Jimin felt his own strength leaving him.

“It’s not too late,” he whispered one last time.

Jungkook took a step back. And then another.

“It is,” he whispered.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving Jimin broken.

Jimin stood there, staring at the empty corridor, his mind spinning.

The sunlight filtered through the yacht’s windows, bright and warm— But inside him, everything felt cold.

Oh, God.

What should he do now?

Jimin's perspective

I stood there, frozen in the dimly lit corridor, staring at the spot where Jungkook had just been. The faint sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, but inside my head, his words echoed like a cruel, endless loop.

"She told me she loves me."

"She loves me. I love her. That’s all that matters."

My throat felt dry. My chest felt hollow.

The soft rocking of the yacht beneath me did nothing to steady the storm inside.

I should have seen this coming.

No—I did see it coming. From the moment Jungkook first spoke about her, from the way his eyes lingered on her like she was something he could never touch but desperately wanted to.

From the way he looked at her like she was a dream.

And now?

Now he’s made that dream his reality.

And it will ruin him.

It will ruin all of us.

I exhaled sharply, my hands shaking as I ran them through my hair. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

For the first time in years, I felt helpless.

I’ve known Jungkook since we were kids—since we were nothing but two boys who knew only hunger, dirt, and the cold reality of the world.

I remember the nights we spent shivering on the streets, our stomachs empty, our bodies curled against the pavement for warmth.

I remember the way Jungkook used to cling to me, too proud to cry, but too young to understand why life had been so cruel to us.

I remember stealing bread from the back of a store, shoving it into his hands, watching as he devoured it with trembling fingers.

I remember his mother. Her hands were calloused, her body frail, but still, she smiled.

She worked herself to the bone, barely sleeping, just to make sure her son had food in his mouth.

She would die for him.

And now, what is he doing?

Throwing everything away—for a woman he can never have.

I want to fucking hate him for it.

But I can’t.

Because deep down, I know.

Jungkook has never had anything in his life that was truly his.

For the first time, he’s found something—someone—who makes him feel like he belongs.

And that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

I squeeze my eyes shut. My pulse pounds in my ears.

Namjoon can’t find out.

If he does, Jungkook is as good as dead.

Kim Namjoon is not just a businessman. He’s not just some rich fiancé who will sit back and let his woman be taken from him.

He is ruthless. He is calculating, cold, and the kind of man who doesn’t just punish you—he erases you.

One word from him, and Jungkook will disappear.

One word, and so will I.

But it won’t stop there.

His mother—our mother—will suffer too. They’ll call her a failure of a parent, shame her, destroy her.

And Y/N?

She might be protected by her wealth, but she will still pay the price.

This is not a love story.

This is a fucking disaster.

I press my fist against the wall, trying to steady myself.

I should tell Namjoon.

I should warn him before it’s too late.

I should put an end to this before Jungkook drowns in something he can’t escape.

But if I do…

I’ll be betraying my brother.

The boy I once fed with stolen bread. The boy I once shielded from the rain. The boy who looked at me with tears in his eyes and asked, “Is it so wrong to love someone?”

I let out a shaky breath.

I can’t do this.

But I can’t stand here and do nothing, either.

I don’t know what the fuck to do.

All I know is that one love is reckless, And the other is dangerous.

And whichever one wins—

We all lose.

Y/n's perspective

The door slammed shut.

And with it, everything inside me collapsed.

I stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space where Jungkook had just been. His warmth still lingered in the air, his touch still burned on my skin, his words still echoed in my head.

“But don’t expect me to stop loving you just because you think it’s wrong.”

“You can lie to yourself, princess. But don’t lie to me.”

I said it.

I told him.

I gave him my heart.

And now he’s gone.

A broken sob tore from my lips as I stumbled back, my legs weak, my chest aching.

I pressed a trembling hand over my mouth, but it did nothing to stop the way my body shook.

I should have never said it.

I should have never let this happen.

Tears blurred my vision, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as my gaze darted around the room—my prison, my suffocating golden cage.

My hands moved on their own.

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the nearest glass from the table and threw it.

It shattered against the wall.

I grabbed another—CRASH.

Another—SMASH.

Everything that my fingers could reach, every fragile thing in my sight, I destroyed it.

The sound of breaking glass filled the room, but it was nothing compared to the sound of my own heart shattering inside me.

I sank to the floor, my knees hitting the cold marble, my hands gripping my hair.

I couldn’t breathe.

I ruined everything.

Jungkook was never supposed to get this far.

I was never supposed to fall.

I was supposed to be Namjoon’s fiancée. His perfect, well-behaved, obedient bride.

I was supposed to be untouchable.

But Jungkook touched me.

And I let him.

God, I let him.

I let him hold me. I let him kiss me. Almost kiss me. I let him break me.

And worst of all?

I told him the truth.

"I love you."

It came out so easily, like a confession I had been swallowing for far too long.

But the moment the words left my lips, the moment I saw the way Jungkook’s eyes filled with something raw, something desperate, something so fucking real—

I knew there was no going back.

I covered my face with my hands, a sob wracking through my body.

What have I done?

What the fuck have I done?

I can’t be with Jungkook.

I can’t.

But now, I don’t know how to live without him.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms until it hurt.

No one will forgive me for this.

Not my mother, who has spent years moulding me into the perfect woman for Namjoon. Not my father, who only sees me as a pawn in his political games. Not the world, who will call me a whore for wanting a man who isn’t my fiancé.

And especially not Namjoon.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Namjoon.

What if he finds out?

What if he already knows?

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Jungkook doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how this world works. He thinks love is enough.

He thinks that just because I love him, we’ll be okay.

But we won’t.

We can’t.

Because this world doesn’t belong to people like him.

And it doesn’t belong to people like me, either.

It belongs to people like Namjoon.

And Namjoon doesn’t lose. People like him don't lose.

A choked breath left my lips as I curled into myself on the floor, my body shaking.

Tears streamed down my face, my heart pounding like a trapped bird inside my ribs.

I want to run. I want to hide. I want to disappear.

But there’s nowhere left to go.

Because no matter what I do, no matter where I turn—

I’ve already lost.

Maid's perspective

The hallway of the yacht was quiet. Too quiet.

I was on my way to replace the linens in the upper deck cabins when I heard it.

A crash.

Then another.

I stopped in my tracks. My hands gripped the fresh towels in my arms as I listened closely.

And then… the sound of someone crying.

Muffled, broken sobs—coming from Miss Y/N’s room.

My heart clenched.

I wasn’t supposed to get involved. We were told to serve silently, never to question, never to pry into the affairs of our employers.

But this… this didn’t sound like the cries of someone who was simply upset.

It sounded like someone who was breaking.

Slowly, I stepped closer.

The door wasn’t fully shut. It was slightly open—just enough for me to see inside.

And what I saw made my breath hitch.

Miss Y/N was on the floor.

Her casual shirt and shorts were slightly wrinkled, her bare feet pressing against the cold floor.

Her hair, usually neat and elegant, was a mess—strands sticking to her tear-streaked face.

The floor around her was littered with broken glass—a shattered perfume bottle, a lamp knocked over, a jewelry case thrown open with its contents scattered.

Her hands… they were trembling. And worse—they were bleeding.

Small cuts ran along her fingers, little trails of red staining her skin.

She didn’t seem to care.

She sat there, knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together.

Her body shook with silent sobs, her head bowed, her shoulders trembling.

It was heartbreaking.

The room was large, luxurious, decorated with soft fabrics and expensive furniture.

Yet at this moment, it felt unbearably empty. Lonely.

Like a cage.

And she—she looked like a bird that had given up trying to escape.

I should have left.

I should have pretended I saw nothing, that I heard nothing.

But my feet wouldn’t move.

"Miss Y/N…" I whispered hesitantly.

She didn’t react.

I took a cautious step inside. I shouldn’t. But I did.

"Miss, your hands… they’re bleeding," I said softly.

Still, no response.

She just sat there, staring at nothing, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

"Should I call for someone?"

That made her flinch. Her head snapped up instantly.

Her eyes—red, swollen, filled with panic.

"No," she choked out.

I swallowed.

She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Not her mother. Not Mr. Namjoon. No one.

I glanced at her hands again. She was hurt.

"I can bring warm towels… some medicine," I offered carefully.

She just stared at me.

Then, after a long silence, she whispered,

"Just leave me alone."

Her voice was hoarse. Empty.

I hesitated.

But in the end, I did as she asked.

I turned and left, my footsteps silent against the floor.

I hesitated outside Miss Y/N’s door, my hands gripping the folded towels against my chest.

I should walk away.

That was the rule. The first thing they taught us when we boarded this yacht—"Never interfere in personal matters."

But I couldn’t ignore what I had just seen.

She had been on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass, her hands trembling as she clutched at the broken pieces.

Blood smeared across her fingers, staining her pale skin.

And her eyes…

I had never seen someone look so lost. So broken.

I swallowed hard.

She can’t be alone right now.

There was only one person who could do something.

Mr. Namjoon.

I turned on my heels and rushed down the hall.

The lounge was quiet, except for the faint sound of waves outside the open windows.

Mr. Namjoon sat in his usual chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand, the other flipping through a file. His posture was relaxed, but there was always something unreadable about him—like he knew everything before it even happened.

I stepped forward carefully, clearing my throat. "Sir…"

He didn’t look up.

"Speak."

I hesitated, my heart pounding. "It’s about Miss Y/N."

That got his attention.

His fingers stilled over the page. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

"What happened?"

There was no anger in his voice. Just… something heavy. Something serious.

I took a deep breath. "She—she’s not well, sir. She was on the floor, crying. There was broken glass, and… she hurt herself. There was blood on her hands."

His expression didn’t change, but I saw the slight shift in his posture—the way his grip on the glass tightened just a little.

"Blood?" he repeated.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. She wouldn’t let me help her. She told me to leave her alone, but… I don’t think she should be alone right now."

Namjoon remained silent for a moment.

Then, without a word, he set his whiskey down, stood up, and reached for his suit jacket.

I blinked, surprised by how fast he moved.

"Where is she?" His voice was steady, but I could feel it now—his urgency.

"In her room, sir."

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask any more questions.

He just walked past me, heading straight for her.

Namjoon's perspective

"She was on the floor, crying. There was broken glass, and… she hurt herself. There was blood on her hands."

My grip tightened around the glass in my hand.

Blood?

Y/N was hurt?

I slowly placed the whiskey down, my fingers steady, my mind calculating. But inside—something wasn’t right.

I stood, reaching for my suit jacket, but I barely felt the fabric between my fingers.

"Where is she?"

"In her room, sir," the maid answered softly.

I didn’t wait.

My strides were long and purposeful, the familiar hallways of the yacht blurring past me. I wasn’t running. I wasn’t panicking. But my heart was beating faster than it should.

She was alone. Crying. Hurt.

And I wasn’t there.

I didn’t knock.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside—and everything stopped.

She was on the floor, her back pressed against the bed, knees pulled to her chest.

Her hands were covered in blood, tiny cuts scattered across her fingers. Shards of glass glistened around her.

Her shoulders shook, silent sobs wracking through her body. She was staring at the floor, at nothing, as if she was somewhere far, far away.

My jaw clenched.

"Y/N."

She flinched at the sound of my voice, but she didn’t lift her head.

"Why…" I exhaled sharply, kneeling down beside her. "Why are you like this?"

Still, she said nothing.

I reached for her hands carefully, wrapping my fingers around her wrists.

"Look at me," I murmured.

Slowly—so slowly—her gaze lifted.

And when I saw her eyes, something inside me twisted.

She looked like she was drowning.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice lower now.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, a tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another.

I sighed, shaking my head. "You can’t keep doing this, Y/N."

I pulled her hands into mine, carefully inspecting the cuts. Small, but deep enough to draw blood.

"You’re hurt." My tone was firm, but it was pointless. She wasn’t listening.

"Namjoon…" she finally whispered.

"I’m here."

Her breath hitched. And then—she broke.

She gripped my shirt, burying her face against my chest as the sobs escaped. Not silent anymore. Not controlled. Just raw, desperate pain.

I held her.

One arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other smoothing down her hair. I said nothing.

Because sometimes, silence was the only answer.

And because—I knew.

I knew this wasn’t just about the glass. Or the blood. Or the pain.

It was about him.

And even if she didn’t say his name, I could feel it in the way she trembled in my arms.

Jungkook.

He had reached too far into her heart.

And now, I had to decide whether to pull her back—or let her go.

She was still trembling in my arms. Even though the sobs had quieted, her body still shook, as if the pain inside her refused to leave.

I could feel it—the weight of everything she wasn’t saying.

And it was killing me.

I held her tighter, my fingers pressing against her back, grounding her. Or maybe—maybe I was grounding myself.

"Y/N," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't respond.

She just kept staring at her hands, her delicate fingers now littered with tiny cuts, blood dried along the edges of her palms.

I reached out, taking one of her hands in mine, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. She let me.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" I asked.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I don’t know," she whispered.

Liar.

I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, forcing myself to stay calm. But inside, I was burning.

"You’re lying," I said, opening my eyes to look at her.

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

"Tell me, Y/N," I pleaded, my voice breaking just enough to let her know—I needed to hear it.

She shook her head, another tear slipping down.

"I can't," she choked out.

I felt something crack inside me.

"You can," I whispered. "You always can."

And then, finally—she spoke.

"Jungkook…"

A single name.

But that was all it took.

My grip on her hand tightened just slightly, my chest constricting with something I didn’t want to name.

Pain? Anger? Fear?

Maybe all of it.

"I knew," I admitted. "But I didn’t want to hear you say it."

Her head snapped up, her tear-filled eyes searching mine. Desperate. Guilty.

"Namjoon…"

"Don't."

My voice was sharp this time, sharper than I intended.

Her lower lip trembled, and I instantly regretted it.

I sighed, running a hand down my face before looking back at her.

"You’re hurting," I said. "And it’s because of him, isn’t it?"

She inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into the sheets beside her.

"I… I don’t know what to do."

"Then let me help you," I whispered.

Her breath hitched.

"I don't think you can."

That… hurt.

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the sharp ache in my chest.

"I can," I insisted. "If you let me."

She shook her head, another tear falling.

"Namjoon… I can’t do this."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't!" she suddenly snapped, her voice breaking as she yanked her hands away from mine.

She pressed them against her face, her shoulders shaking again.

"I feel like I’m suffocating," she sobbed. "I can’t breathe, I can’t think—everything is a mess!"

And it was because of him.

Because of Jungkook.

I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"You’re engaged to me," I reminded her, my voice steady. "Not him."

She flinched.

"I know," she whispered.

"Then why does it feel like I'm losing you?"

I didn’t mean to say that.

But I did. And I couldn’t take it back.

She sucked in a shaky breath, looking up at me with so much pain that it made my chest ache.

"Because maybe you are."

I stiffened.

Silence.

Only the sound of the ocean outside, the distant laughter of guests, the world moving forward as if our world wasn’t falling apart.

"Do you love him?" I finally asked.

Her lips parted, but she hesitated.

That hesitation—it was enough.

I felt something inside me shatter.

I forced a small smile, even though it felt like a blade against my throat.

"Okay," I whispered.

She frowned, confused. "Namjoon—"

"No," I cut her off gently. "You don’t have to explain."

Because what was there to explain?

She loved him.

And I… I was just a man trying to hold onto something that was never really mine.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

She wouldn’t look at me.

And maybe… maybe I didn’t want her to.

Because if she did, I might see it again. That hesitation. The hesitation that told me everything I needed to know.

She loved him.

But right now—she was hurting. And no matter how much it killed me inside, I couldn’t ignore that.

"Give me your hands," I said quietly.

She blinked, confused. "What?"

I reached for her again, carefully taking her trembling hands in mine.

Her fingers were still stained with dried blood, tiny cuts littering her soft skin. She had done this to herself.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. Stay steady.

"You’re hurt," I murmured, running my thumb lightly over the wounds.

She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.

Good.

"I’ll clean them up," I told her.

She nodded weakly, watching as I stood up and walked to the small first-aid kit in the room.

I wasn’t sure how long I took, but when I came back, she was still sitting there, curled in on herself like a child afraid of the world.

I kneeled in front of her.

"This might sting," I warned, opening the antiseptic wipe.

She didn’t respond. She just held out her hands, letting me take them.

Trusting me.

The first touch of the antiseptic made her suck in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching.

"I know," I whispered, my grip tightening slightly. "Just bear with it for a little while."

She nodded.

I worked carefully, gently cleaning each wound, making sure not to hurt her more than necessary. Every now and then, she winced, but she didn’t complain.

She never complained.

And that scared me.

"You shouldn't have done this to yourself," I murmured, carefully wrapping a bandage around her palm.

"I didn’t mean to," she whispered.

I paused.

She wasn’t lying. I could hear it in her voice.

"Then why did you?" I asked, my voice softer now.

She swallowed hard.

"I… I don’t know," she admitted. "I just felt… lost."

I exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to her bandaged knuckles before I even realized what I was doing.

She froze.

I didn’t move either.

But after a moment, she let out a shaky breath.

"Namjoon…"

"I know," I whispered. "You don’t have to say anything."

Because if she did…

I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her.

I placed a hand over hers, holding it between both of mine.

"Y/N," I murmured, my voice firmer this time.

She looked at me, tired and broken.

"You’re not alone," I told her. "No matter what happens, I’m here. Always."

Her lower lip trembled.

And then—she broke.

Tears spilled from her eyes again, and without thinking, she collapsed forward, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

I caught her.

I always would.

Author’s Note ✨

💬 "Some wounds don’t bleed, but they leave scars just the same."

This chapter… it wasn’t easy to write. Sometimes, emotions spill onto the page in a way that feels too raw, too real. But that’s what makes stories powerful, right? The ache, the longing, the silent screams woven between the lines.

If this chapter made your chest feel a little heavier, if it made you pause for even a second—then I’ve done what I set out to do. Thank you for reading, for feeling, for being part of this journey.

I’d love to hear your thoughts—Did this chapter break you a little? Or did it feel like something you’ve known all along?

💜 Chapter 5 coming soon... 💜