#and how instead namjoon wants to be a field of flowers sigh

[justkeepdancing-nemo]

Flower field, that's where I'm at Open land, that's where I'm at No name, that's what I have No shame, I'm on my grave When your feet don't touch the ground When your own heart underestimates you When your dreams devour you When you feel you’re not yourself All those times

On the title:  

 Namjoon's song 들꽃놀이 is actually a wordplay itself, in Eng it's simply called 'wild flowers' but the Korean title is actually his own wordplay from the word 불꽃놀이 which means fireworks/fire play. 불꽃 means flame/spark (fire flower to be very literal) and he took the 놀이 part which means playing/game and merge it with 들꽃 (flowers that bloom in a field), so 들꽃놀이 literally means 'Wildflowers Works' in the similar sense of word as 'Fireworks' but instead a display of fire it's wild flowers.

So instead of living like fire flowers that is brilliant but would quickly disappear, namjoon would like to live more like wildflowers that are calm and tranquil. 

The MV: 

In the MV, traditional Korean fireworks are used! Korean traditional fireworks (nakhwa nori) are made from stringing tiny bags with a combo of charcoal made from salt and burnt mulberry onto ropes that get hung over water and lit

[juliet-caramelmacchiato]

HOUSE OF CARDS

PAIRING: Kim Namjoon / fem oc

GENRE: mystery/fantasy/investigation

SUMMARY: Who destroyed the garden of the King of clubs?

Who caused the death of the Queen of spades?

Who broke the fragile order of the world, putting at risk the life of not one, but two sovereigns?

In a situation were anyone could be involved, the only one able to judge is too blinded by his own grief to be rational. The last remaining solution, then, seems to look for help from the outside. From someone who could determine once and for all the real culprit.

WORD COUNT: 2.OK

****************************************************

CHAPTER 3

-Hyung?

The human looked at the silhouette of the back of the man who was facing a sea of cinder that reached the horizon in a never ending expanse, as a hint of bitterness took possession of her heart. She wondered how magnificent that garden must have once been. If it was a chaotic ensemble of different flowers that meddled and clashed in a joyous cacophony of colours or if instead it was divided in methodical sections based on species and variety.

The crownless king didn't answer. The King of diamonds then, swallowing a grimace, slowly stepped forward, inviting her to follow him while the rest of the company stayed at the threshold of the French window to silently observe the scene. When the two reached the silver bench on which the man was sitting, the woman finally had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of his lineaments. The sight, however, made the bitterness in her heart even more burning. The elegant profile of the masculine face with plump lips and a subtle nose, fair skin and full cheeks, was disfigured by a large cinereous blemish resembling charred wood and crossed by deep fissures that nearly reached the healthy skin. The entirety of the right cheek of the sovereign up until the corner of the eye was contaminated by the gash, that ran down the long neck and dipped under the double breasted jacket with floral patterns.

-Seokjin-hyung, can I introduce you to someone?- asked the King of diamonds with the most delicate tone that the woman had ever heard from him. The man, in the end, seemed to snap out of the trance in which he was immersed and slowly turned towards them.

-Yoongi?

Lost eyes gazed at the young man standing as if he was a ghost, as if they could see through his figure and could project their vision beyond, far away from that desolated place. The King of diamonds, at that, sat next to the sovereign, inviting the woman to do the same.

-Hi hyung. How are you today?

The man with lost eyes had placed his gaze back on the ashy field, staring insistently as if looking for something that wasn't there.

-Yoongi... what happened to my garden?

An embarrassed silence diffused in the air, while the golden king tightened his lips like he was restraining himself.

-Hyung, do you remember what happened?- he asked instead, with a calm and condescending tone in his hoarse voice. The silver king furrowed his brows slightly.

-I remember... that I was pruning the peonies. I was late, but if I hurried I could fix them before they could wither.

Yoongi, gulping, seemed to hold a sigh as his eyes lowered to the ground littered with ash. Then, turning to the human, he schooled his face in a neutral expression.

-Is there something that you wish to know?

The woman placed her gaze on the outline of the crownless man, who kept on staring at the ghost of his precious creature as if he still couldn't see what had become of it. When she brought her eyes back on the golden king, then, she shook her head. That poor man had suffered enough. She didn't want to add pain to his already fragile psyche by digging into memories that he had obviously removed in order to protect himself.

When they reached the rest of the attendants at the french window, though, the young woman was still empty-handed.

-He doesn't remember a thing about what happened. He has completely deleted that day from his mind, hence why we can't even know where he was located at the moment of the fire.

An obnoxious cough followed Yoongi's statement, which brought the attention of the entire group on the scarlet king.

-Actually, I do know where he was. I even know the culprit but no one wants to listen to me- chirped the King of hearts, pouting his lips and folding his arms on his chest. As a couple of exasperated sighs and protesting cries raised from the group, the human tilted her head.

-Really?- she asked with sincere curiosity, staring at the man. The latter, frivolously batting his eyelids, smiled widely and took her hand.

-Follow me!

The man dragged her inside the palace, leading her in a big hall that faced the ashy garden with walls entirely covered in silver which melted in dense floral patterns that reached the ceiling. At the centre of the room, was a silver throne with black trims. The sovereign, though, stopped only when he was facing a tall mirror that took the right wall to the throne and that was as big as one of the windows.

-As you already know, I have dominion over mirrors. And amongst my many wonderful powers, there is one that allows me to see the images captured by every mirror of the world!- enthusiastically explained the man, pointing at the object encased in a precious black frame with a blatant gesture of his hand. The human, contemplating it, turned to the crimson king.

-So you are able to show who was here, in this room, the day of the fire?

The sovereign winked at her, emphasising his elegant cheekbones.

-Exactly.

The human brought her eyes on her reflection, a woman dressed in a large white chemise tucked into high-waisted jeans, touched by the tips of her long raven hair. That reflection, then, started floating like the circles that form on the surface of a pond that is perturbed by a pebble, until it morphed into the figure of the King of clubs. He had his crown on, covered in shiny silver and topped by peaks of onyx, and was wearing a silver cape on which was pinned the brooch with his coat-of-arms. His face, however, was distraught by an emotion that resembled pure madness.

-No! You are wrong! You are all wrong! You are just a witch with no authority here! Go away!

The voice dripping contempt of the sovereign escaped the glass in pieces and, even if it wasn't possible to see who he was directing his anger at, the hem of a black skirt appeared at the corner of the mirror.

-I said go away!

The shouts of the man had become even the more violent and his raging face looked around himself, pupils dilated like a wild beast, before going out of the frame and coming back with a chandelier in his hand.

-Go!

And the king exited the scene for good as the weak flames of the candles animated his face with a soft orange. The glass, then, went back to showing the reflection of the young woman with her face closed in a thoughtful grimace.

-So, according to this... it would have been the King of clubs himself?- she asked, raising an eyebrow. An outraged grunt made her turn towards the raven king, who up until that moment had yet to pronounce a word.

-Oh please! We all know that Jimin can manipulate the pictures in the mirrors! It's obvious that this is his doing! Seokjin-Hyung would have never hurt a fly!- growled the sovereign, pointing his accusatory finger against the King of hearts. The latter, faking an expression of pure indignation, blatantly touched his chest.

-How could you accuse me of something like this? Me, manipulating a reflection in order to place the blame on Seokjin! What an absurdity!

-Then why don't you even have the grace to use honourifics when talking about the oldest amongst us?- menacingly whispered Namjoon, who had reached the crimson king with long strides and who had gripped his precious jacket in order to near their faces.

-Don't be so stern now! You are all important to my eyes, the entire world is at the same level!- theatrically exclaimed Jimin, widening his arms.

-We are kings, all four of us! We are all equals, right?- he added, softening his voice in an innocent tone, before lowering his chin and staring straight in the eyes of the fuming sovereign, opening in a malicious smile.

-But you would believe nothing that I say, isn't it... Namjoon-ie?- murmured the crimson king a breath away from the grinding lips of the man. The human, observing the scene, tightened her mouth.

No, something wasn't right.

Even opening her mind to all possible scenarios, it seemed improbable that the King of clubs would damage his own dominion, causing such a great loss to himself. But she needed confirmation.

-For what reason does the King of clubs not have a Jack?

The attendants moved their attention from the conflict between the two men to the human who was looking at them with determination. It was the King of diamonds who spoke first, throwing a weary look at the sovereign who was gripping with his nails Jimin's jacket.

-When we came to existence, there were seven of us: four kings and three jacks. It was destiny, hence, that one of us had to be left without a Jack and Seokjin-hyung offered to make this sacrifice. He said he didn't need one. He had never wanted weapons in his territory and neither a private militia. In general, he was the one who kept the best relationship with all of us, even when conflicts arised among the other kingdoms.

The woman nodded raising her head to the ceiling, before bringing her gaze back on the mirror that was showing her reflection.

-I don't think he was the one who started the fire either. A peaceful individual, who had never showed an inclination towards violence, what reason would have had to turn against the queen and destroy his own dominion? It doesn't make sense. And neither does a sudden burst of madness. I think the culprit is someone else- she concluded, turning to the attendants who carefully stared at her. It was only then that, finally, the King of spades released his grip from the jacket of the scarlet king, throwing him an accusatory look.

-It is apparent, then, that someone is trying to hide something- Namjoon said harshly, bringing Jimin to curl his lips in an elegant growl.

-Are you accusing me, perhaps?

The eyes of the woman darted from one individual to the other, contemplating the palpable tension that seemed to animate their bodies and their burning gazes.

-I don't know, Jimin. You tell me- spat  with a cavernous tone the raven king, clenching his jaw. The human, then, turned to the golden sovereign, who studied the scene with increasing worry.

-Is there any way to verify if he is telling the truth?

Yoongi observed her for a few moments, before glancing at Jimin.

-There would be the Ace of hearts, but only his king can make it work- he claimed, compelling the mentioned to let out a loud snort.

-The Ace is quite unruly these days, even I can't make it work- he said, lifting his shoulders with nonchalance.

-Quite convenient- murmured the King of spades, staring at Jimin.

-What's the Ace of hearts?

Yoongi brought his gaze back on the human.

-Every sovereign has an object that represents the key and the essence of his power itself. The Ace of hearts is the Mirror of truth. It can't be altered and it can't show anything but the pure and simple reality. Furthermore, it is connected to every mirror in our world, so it can connect to every corner where a reflecting surface exists.

The young woman, with eyes widened by surprise, contemplated the new informations. Kings with supernatural powers, mirrors of truth... that world was definitely far more bizarre than what she had predicted.

-May I ask for your collaboration to use your Ace, your majesty? It would be a prime tool to reach the solution of this mystery- she then demanded, turning to the ethereal figure behind her. Him, after a moment of silence closed in an unreadable expression, opened in a seducing smirk.

-If you ask with such grace, my beautiful petal, how can I refuse you?

[untaemedqueen]

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Chapter 11.

Warnings: Eventual Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner​, @q1st1na​, @gensneverland​, @autumnnflowers​, @toddsgirl27​, @yaniposts22​, @babyboytae1​, @dearlydreadful​, @vivpurple7, @kthfeed​

You stare at the clock, your engagement hand dangling over the top of Jimin's chair. "Four." You hear for the seventh time. You roll your eyes drawing attention from Ong Mingyu. 

"Do you have something to say?" Jimin looks over at you, you sigh before sipping your champagne. 

"Four, six. Four, six. Four, six." You murmur to him making Jeongguk tense up. 

"Excuse me?" His voice was sharp but Jimin kept relaxed. You've been in these meetings before, you can carry yourself well enough. 

"Now, I know that you know these guns are worth six." You lean down to the desk. Your gold dress neck swoops lower, Ong Mingyu sitting up straighter to try and see your cleavage. He wouldn't get to see much, you started wearing bustiers over the last few days. 

"Do you wanna know how I know?" You whisper as Jimin rubs at your lower back proudly starting to smirk. You raise an eyebrow staring at Mingyu's handsome face. He was a flower boy, pretty big eyes with nice plump lips and high cheekbones. 

"You should answer her before she gets angry." Jimin says bringing his glass to his lips. Mingyu snarls at your brazen attitude. 

"Do you want to know?" You ask standing back up. Jimin keeps his hand on your lower back as you lean against the arm of his chair. Almost protectively of him as you angle your body towards him. 

"Sure, please. Tell me how you think this fucking deal is worth two million more than what I'm saying." You hum to him before sitting on Jimin's lap. Jimin stiffens up underneath you, the feeling of your body on him sending him into what he could only describe as heaven. The sexual tension between the two of you has been of the Richter scale lately. You've been kissing, you've been lazily stroking arms and legs but everything else is a dead stop. Jimin clenches his legs together as you make yourself comfortable on him, shifting your ass on his groin until you are pleased with the flustered breaths from behind you. 

"I know that the deal is worth two more million, and so do you. You know because your palms are sweating. When you lie you stutter twice, you shift your eyes to everything else other than the person you are dealing with. That black duffel bag you brought,-" You nod to his guard at the back of the room holding the bag, "-has six million in it. The way the sides jut out is more than four." 

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Mingyu stands up, Jeongguk at the corner stiffening himself grabbing at his waistband. 

"I am the person, you're going to give that six million to. All those guns you want, prime and polished without numbers. Bullets without trace. You want those guns, you give us the six." Mingyu scoffs before leaning on the desk as Jimin leans forward, his body relaxing as you talk smoothly. 

His chest pressing into your back as he plays with your hair. "Why don't you let men do business instead of interfering, woman." You smile before sipping your champagne. 

"There is no business is this house that I will not dip my toes into. Six." Mingyu scoffs, fixing his tie before slamming back down into the seat. 

"What's mine, is hers." Jimin simply gives you the go ahead to wear down the pretty boy. 

"You're gonna give us the six or else you don't get the guns. I've been talking to Jung Mina, hmm? You know Jung Mina? Women talk a lot." You sit back against Jimin, his hand landing on your upper thigh. Mingyu clears his throat as you mention her name, rubbing his hands over his face. 

"And, Jung Mina tells me that you need those guns in order to take back the clubs you've lost in Gangnam to the Kim's." Mingyu look you dead in the eye, 

"You shut the fuck up about things you don't know about." You hum in agreement.

"So six and you'll get the wares to take back your clubs." Mingyu forms fists closing his eyes. You sip your champagne as he sneers at you. 

"Give her the fucking duffel bag." He stands up before slamming the desk. 

"You aren't a Park yet, you little bitch." Jimin stiffens before tutting his tongue. He pats your thigh and you stand up. 

"She was being gracious. You are disrespecting my woman." Jimin fixes his white suit jacket before sighing and standing up. 

"Disrespect my woman again and you'll be coughing up blood for weeks." Mingyu's guard drops the duffel bag on the floor before stepping behind his boss. Jeongguk steps up cracking his neck. 

"No trouble, Park. Your woman just has a mouth on her." Mingyu looks over at you and you wink at him sitting in Jimin's chair. 

"And what a pretty mouth she has. Get out." 

"I want those guns by tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow is the ball, you'll get them Monday." Jimin tells him, Mingyu fixes his suit jacket before rolling his shoulders. 

"Monday." He leaves but not before bearing his teeth at you in anger. You stand up and walk over to the duffel bag, opening it unceremoniously before rifling through the bands of cash. 

"Six." You murmur with a good hearted chuckle. Jimin sighs happily sitting on his desk.

"My Kitten." He praises you.

"How'd you know about Jung Mina?" Jeongguk asks sitting down in the chair. 

"Namjoon." Jimin hums impressed.

"This is your thing." You look over at him and he smiles widely. 

"This? What's this?" You stand tall before leaning against the wooden wall. 

"Being smart, talking well, making people fear you. That's your thing." You purse your lips pondering. Maybe that is what you're good at. You're good at making people uncomfortable, making people squirm. And, you love that. "Maybe it is."

Jimin stares at the ceiling in boredom as the meeting carries on. You weren't in this meeting, you had training with Namjoon to sharpen your memory before tomorrow. 

"-And for the three girls he kill-" Jimin clears his throat.

"Hold on. Hold on." Yoongi says to Jeongguk noticing how Jimin's mind is wandering. 

"Chim, you okay?" Taehyung asks from across the table as Seokjin dances a knife between his fingers. 

"I don't fucking care about Lee Minshin. Fucking kill him if you want to." Jimin mutters before pouring himself another glass of whisky. 

"What's the problem, Jimin?" Jin asks folding his arms. 

"Nothing. I'm fine. Let's just get this meeting over with." 

"So you can go back to Y/N." Taehyung counters with a smile. Jimin rolls his eyes before shooting back the glass of whisky in one shot. 

"Just continue on before I break something." Jimin was fidgety, he felt empty without you by his side. Like he was exposed. It had been a week, and what a gorgeous week it has been. Nothing but you has been on his mind, he forgets that he's a monster. He's has a job that isn't respectable. He's a racketeer for God's sake, and yet, he feels like a saint when he's with you. 

"You're a different person, like you've had a lobotomy." Jeongguk tells Jimin pointing his finger at him. Jimin nods his head pursing his lips. 

"I am." 

"When she finds out about your story do you really think she'll stay?" Taehyung asks, intertwining his fingers. Jimin shakes his head.

"Nope. Which is why I find this meeting trivial when I could be spending my last day with her." Seokjin nods before putting his hands up.

"Meeting adjourned." Jimin stands up brushing off his suit pants. 

"Might as well be happy now so I can go back to being miserable. Oh, and Guk." Jimin stops in his tracks as Jeongguk gives him his full attention. "Just kill that fucker Lee Minshin." 

You stare at the manila folder in your hands. Namjoon pulls from his cigarette before pointing at the folder. "You keep that folder pressed to you at all times. Revenge does not come lightly. You fuel your body with the rage of a hundred men. We'll get him to tell us who killed your parents." You run your fingers over the Hangul spelling out Kim Shin's name. You sigh before leaning back in the plastic chair, your eyes drifting lazily over to some pitch forks that used to be used for hay in the warehouse. 

"Tell me something." Namjoon raises an eyebrow leaning back comfortably as smoke rolls lazily upwards towards the heavens. 

"What?" 

"What's Jimin's story?" Namjoon sighs before shaking his head. 

"No, sorry. Can't tell you." His lips pressing into a straight line as his dimples indent his cheeks. 

"And, why not?" 

"Because his story is not one to tell, he almost killed Hoseok the other day. I'm not saying a thing that the Boss doesn't want me to say. I'm sorry." You nod understanding, tire squealing resounds throughout the field outside of the warehouse. 

"But, I will tell you one thing. Hmm?" Namjoon pauses as the noise of the tires get louder as the car approaches. Namjoon leans in and you nod to him once letting him proceed. 

"Whatever Jimin tells you, no matter what his story is. He loves you. You're the first person he has held dear since I've known him and that has been a long fucking time. So, my selfish suggestion is, if you hear something you don't like in that story you fucking ignore it. You block it out of your memory because Jimin is no longer that person when he's with you." The car stops and you smile at Namjoon as you hear the car door shut. 

"Noted." Namjoon throws his cigarette on the ground as the warehouse door flies open. Jimin enters arms spread with a large smile. 

"Kitten." You smile at him as you stand. 

"Meeting is over early." Jimin hums before keeping his arms open wanting a hug. 

"I missed my girl. Get over here." You snort before walking over and hugging him. He hugs you tightly, your face pressing into his grey suit jacket. 

"Let's get out of here. Smells like shit." Jimin kisses the top of your head before looking at Namjoon. 

"Joon, meet with Yoongi for tomorrow. I want every new kid at that ball. I want them all armed." Namjoon look over confused.

"No weapons at the ball." Jimin clicks his teeth, before burying his face in your hair. 

"I said armed, Namjoon. Do I have to say it again?" Namjoon puts up his hands. 

"Yes, Boss. Armed and ready to play." Jimin tickles you before pulling you towards the door. "Let's go shopping, baby. My Kitten deserves whatever she wants."

Jimin lays in bed with you, his hand dancing over your night gown as he stares at the canopy above his bed. His right hand tucked underneath his pillow. You've been sleeping in the same bed ever since the night you had the run in with Taehyung's little sisters murder. The silence in the room was comfortable, the rain pattering against the window panes loudly as Jimin sighs. 

"Sleeping?" Jimin asks quietly, his melodic voice breaking the silence gently. You turn your body over to him before shaking your head. You throw your leg over his body and he smirks before turning his head and looking at you. 

"It's late you should be sleeping." 

"You too." Jimin chuckles, "Touché." Jimin rubs at the bare skin of your thigh, closing his eyes. 

"Why can't you sleep?" He knew the answer to his question but he would like to hear the answer anyway. 

"Thinking about tomorrow." Jimin nods at this. 

"If you don't sleep, Hyejin is going to be mad at me if she has to conceal dark bags under your eyes." You laugh gently before putting your head on his chest. 

"Will we really get Kim Shin tomorrow?" The nervousness in your voice doesn't go unnoticed as Jimin opens his eyes. 

"Of course we will, Kitten." He kisses your forehead before sighing. 

"Will you tell me your story now?" Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, you can hear his heart pick up pace through his skin. A cold sweat began to develop on him. 

"No Kitten. I will not." You sit up pushing the sheets off of your body. 

"You want to give me the world, tell me your story or I won't go to the ball." Jimin laughs bitterly before standing up. You watch as he paces the room before pouring himself a glass of whisky. You could see his nervousness as he rubs at his face. 

"You won't go to the ball anyway if I fucking tell you." Jimin pours another glass before handing it to you. 

"Just tell me." Jimin sits down in the chair in front of the chess board. His sweaty hands rubbing at his pajama pants. 

"Comfortable? It's going to be a long night." He picks up the King piece before tipping it over.

[bts-reveries]

picnic blanket

the most beautiful moment in life | drabble/oneshot #1

genre: fluff, family

member(s): ot7

a/n: as some of you may know, the daddy aus series that i have are actually not called ‘daddy diaries’ but instead called ‘the most beautiful moment in life’ 

i always thought of making little drabbles or oneshots for this alternate universe once the series was over but since it’s father’s day, i decided to make this now as a special little gift 

so please enjoy this, and although ‘y/n’ is not written in any of this (since everyone seem to like the couples anyways and because it’s with all the boys, i figured it would be okay) you can also just replace their names with yours 😂

and lastly, none of this would make any sense to you if you haven’t read the series! here’s the link to the master list: the most beautiful moment in life

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It was a partly cloudy afternoon, the group was at a huge park having a nice family picnic. Even though everyone was kind of just doing their own thing, it was a nice day for everyone to make sweet memories with their kids. 

Namjoon was walking around with Moonji, picking flowers. Byul stayed back at the picnic blanket reading a book. Jin was taking Soojin butterfly hunting, while Mae and her two boys, Minseok and Haneul, played with a couple of water guns. Yoongi was taking a nap at the picnic blanket while Hana ran around chasing Yeontan. Sohyun was stuck sitting at the picnic blanket with Yoongi on her lap, petting his hair. Hobi was making a sandwich for Huimang while Sarang had Huimang between her legs, braiding her hair. Jimin was also at the picnic blanket, sitting down with Yuna resting on his lap, while Mingyu laid on her chest. Taehyung was raiding the picnic basket that Jin packed up, looking for strawberries. Lastly, Jungkook was sitting on the grass, making flower chains with Sian and Rina. 

“Min Hana!” Yoongi yells from the picnic blanket. He had his arms under his head, shades on, lying comfortably on Sohyun’s lap. Sohyun scoffs, slapping his stomach.

“Min Yoongi! I said to go get her!” Sohyun says, pointing to the little girl, running farther into the field. Yoongi groans, sitting up and taking his shades off.

“Taehyung, can you get her?” He asks. Taehyung turns to him and laughs.

“I believe I heard Sohyun ask you not me hyung.” Yoongi whines in response, standing up and dragging his legs towards where his daughter was.

“Min Hana!” He yells again. Hana turns around to her dad’s voice, smiling instantly as she runs a little further.

“Where is she even going to?” Jungkook asks, watching Yoongi finally run after her. 

“Daddy let’s go with them,” Sian says, getting up on his little feet, reaching down to pull Jungkook up. 

“Daddy doesn’t want to,” Jungkook says, pouting at his son. 

“Whyyy~” Sian whines, tugging on his dad’s arm. 

“We’re not done making our matching flower bracelet. Ask mommy,” Jungkook says, pointing at Rina. Rina looks up from the flowers she’s holding and frowns.

“What. Umm.. Taehyung,” she calls, making Taehyung turn around for the second time. “Hana’s chasing your dog out there, you should go.” Taehyung frowns, looking up towards Hana and Yoongi.

“You mean mY SON IS OUT THERE?!” Taehyung yells, immediately getting up and running off to wherever Yoongi and Hana was.

“Wait!” Sian says, dropping his flowers on Jungkook’s shoulder and running after his Uncle Taetae. “Don’t leave me!” 

“Ugh, I can’t wait until Gyu is big enough to run around with us like that,” Yuna says, watching Sian run off to catch up with Taehyung.

“I can,” Jimin replies, looking down at his son, who’s peacefully sleeping on Yuna’s chest. 

“I’m sure you’d be the one who’s going to be so excited when he takes his first step,” Yuna says, looking up at Jimin. 

“You’re right, I can’t wait to walk around with him,” he says, leaning down to peck Yuna on the lips, pulling away, moving to the side to kiss Mingyu’s little head. 

“Aww, remember when we were like that?” Rina says, looking over at the new parents. Jungkook nods.

“Yeah, but now you’re mean to me,” Jungkook frowns, throwing Sian’s flowers at her face. 

“Awww~~~ My baby,” Rina coos, leaning over to give Jungkook a kiss. When she pulls away, Jungkook scrunches his nose, pushing her away slightly.

“Ew...” He laughs. 

“O-ow!” Huimang screams. “Mommy you’re pulling my hair a bit too tight I think.” Sarang ends Huimang’s braid with a small hair tie. 

“Is it?” Sarang says, looking down at her. “It’s good tight, so it doesn’t get all over your face.” 

“Here you go princess,” Hoseok says, handing Huimang his special sandwich. “Do you want some strawberries too?” He says, giving her a small bowl of nice, red strawberries. 

“Wasn’t Taehyung looking for those?” Sarang asks. 

“Yeah, I took them before he could eat all of it.”

“Daddy,” Huimang whispers to Hoseok. He kneels down so Huimang could whisper whatever she needed to say in his ear. “Can you take out mommy’s braid on me. It kinda hurts,” she says, making Hoseok laugh. 

“Of course. Come sit,” Hoseok says, gesturing to the space in front of him. He began to take out the small hair tie Sarang put on her, and began to disassemble her braid. 

“Hey, what are you doing,” Sarang pouts. “I worked hard on that braid..”

“It was too tight mommy,” Huimang said, her head moving around as Hoseok attempted to put her hair in a high ponytail. 

“Hoseok,” Byul says, putting her book down. “Can you pass me some of those strawberries?” Hoseok nods, handing her the bowl. 

“Thank you.”

“How’s that book going?” Yuna asks, sitting up, holding Mingyu steady on her chest.

Byul sighs before answering, closing her book and placing it on her lap.

“Honestly… it’s such a slow start and I’m not in the mood to read it anymore. I wonder where Moonji and Namjoon are now,” she says, popping a strawberry in her mouth.

“I’m sure they’ll come soon, her little legs could only walk so much,” Jungkook replies, getting up and stretching his legs. He groans as he stretches his whole body, reaching down to grab Rina’s hands, pulling her up.

“Where the heck is my son though,” Jungkook says, putting a hand over his eyes to block the sun, looking at the direction to where Sian and Taehyung ran off. 

“They’ll be back soon, just like Moonji, Yoongi hyung’s legs can only walk so much,” Jimin comments. 

“Should we-- aHH!” Jungkook yells. “What the--” Jungkook turns around to see a giggly Minseok holding a water gun. 

“Oops! Sorry Uncle Kookie, that was our fault,” Mae says, helping Haneul with his little water gun. 

“Haneul did you just spray me?” Jungkook says, making Haneul laugh. Jungkook runs towards him in an attempt to attack him with some kisses, making Haneul squeal, spraying him a bit more. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m soaked,” Jungkook laughs, pulling Haneul in when the little guy notices that he’s run out of water. Jungkook kisses Haneul’s cheek and neck, making him giggle. “Aigoo, you’re so chunky I love it.”

“Uncle Kookie!” Minseok yells, causing Jungkook to turn around.

“Wha-- oH!” He yells as Minseok soaks his face.

“Ohhhhh,” Jungkook says into a laugh, “that’s it, I’m going to get you!” He yells, grabbing Minseok’s water gun from his hand and chasing him with it.

“Hey!” Minseok yells, screaming as Jungkook starts to spray him as well. “Mommy help!” 

“Sorry buddy, you did this to yourself,” Mae says, laughing and picking up Haneul. “Let’s get you a towel buddy. Your hyung got you soaked.”

“Hey where’s Jin and Soojin?” Rina asks Mae. She replies with a shrug.

“They left to go butterfly hunting. I don’t even know how that’s going to work out when Jin yells whenever a bug gets near him,” Mae says as she wraps Haneul up in a little blanket. 

“Unnie!”

Everyone at the picnic table looks up when they hear the small voice and instantly smiles when they see who it was.

“Unnie!” Moonji yells again, running with her little legs to the picnic blanket. Namjoon walked behind her, smiling at his little girl as she ran to his girlfriend with several little flowers in her small hands. 

“Unnie,” Moonji says once again as she gets to the blanket, tripping and falling onto Byul’s lap.

“Ooh, are you okay sweetie?” She asks, helping the little girl up onto her feet.

“I got you this,” she smiles, holding up the flowers to Byul’s face. She gasps, taking them from Moonji’s hand.

“You got this for me?” Byul says.

“She was so excited and thought of you as soon as she found them,” Namjoon says, walking over to sit next to Byul, putting his hand on her shoulder and pulling her towards him so he can kiss her forehead.

“How sweet, thank you Moonji,” Byul says, “Come sit on my lap. Do you want to help me press them in my book? This way I can keep it forever.”

“Yes!”

“Okay, come here then.”

“MOMMY!” They hear another little voice and they all look up to another little girl running towards the picnic blanket. 

“Oh baby you’re back!” Mae says, reaching out for her daughter to come to her.

“Mommy, we didn’t get any butterflies,” she says sadly, dropping down next to her little brother.

“Why not?” Mae asks.

“Because daddy scared them away!” She says angrily, pointing at Seokjin when he came up. Jin’s jaw drops.

“Me? What do you mean I scared them away?? They scared me!” Jin argues. 

“One landed on daddy’s nose and he screamed and slapped it off and it flew away,” Soojin says.

“It’s okay, at least you found one right?” Mae says, reassuring her daughter. She nods, looking up at her dad and scrunching her brows. 

“Hey don’t look at me like that, you clearly haven’t seen the wormy episode from spongebob,” Jin says, pointing at Soojin.

“You won’t let me watch Spongebob daddy.”

“We’re back!” Everybody looked up for the third time, watching as the last little girl came running up to the picnic blanket. Sian walked right beside Hana. 

“Where’s your dad and Uncle Taetae?” Rina asks. Sian turns around pointing.

“Daddy’s walking really slow but he’s coming,” Hana says, running to Sohyung, instantly cuddling against her when she sat on her lap.

“What about uncle Tae?” Jimin asks, seeing Yoongi walking back but Taehyung nowhere in sight.

“He’s looking for Yeontan,” Sian answers. 

“Oh? Where did Yeontan go?” Sarang asks. Sian answers with a shrug. Hoseok had a worried look on his face.

“I hope he’s okay, should I call him?”

“Mommy!” Rina turns around to the sound of her boyfriend’s voice.��

“What you big baby,” she says, watching Jungkook dragging his feet and soaked clothes towards her.

“I’m wet.” He says, Minseok giggles, throwing his water gun on the ground, that he stole back from Jungkook at one point, and he runs towards his dad as Jin holds a towel open for him to run into. 

“Well what do you want me to do, I don’t have a towel ready for you,” Rina says. 

“Jungkook, come here,” Jin says, gesturing for Jungkook to come over as he held another clean towel in his hand, opening it up for Jungkook to run into just as Minseok did. Jungkook laughs, running to Jin as he wraps the clean towel around him.

“Wah~ It’s like Minseok suddenly grew up,” Jin laughs. 

“Aww, I want to play with the water gun too,” Sian says, running to the abandoned ones on the floor and picking them up.

“They're empty,” Minseok says. Sian frowns. 

“I should’ve just stayed here earlier…” He mumbles.

~

“Tannie!” Taehyung calls, walking through the trees where he last saw Yeontan run to. 

“Kim Yeontan!” He yells even louder. Taehyung sighs, walking farther and farther when he heard a yip. Taehyung turns to the sound and follows it. 

He sees a tail, behind a tree, wagging fast, just as Yeontan's tail does when he’s happy. 

“Yeontan!” He calls again, the little dog turns around and immediately runs to Taehyung when he sees him.

“Where the heck have you been, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Taehyung says, picking up the pomeranian.

“Oh I’m sorry, is this your dog?” Taehyung looks up and sees a small boy and a woman who looks about the same age as him.

“Yeah, he ran off earlier and my niece was chasing him and he suddenly disappeared.”

“He saw me and ran straight to me! I think doggy likes me,” the little boy says, walking over to Taehyung and petting Yeontan’s head.

“He does,” Taehyung says. “He has a lot of cousins-- human, cousins-- that are around your age that he likes to play with. Maybe that’s why.”

“What’s his name?” The little boy asks.

“Yeontan, but we also call him Tannie,” Taehyung answers.

“Honey, tell the nice man thank you for letting you play with his dog and we have to go.” The woman says to his son. The little boy pouts, tippy toeing and leaning over to give Yeontan a kiss on the nose. Making Taehyung smile.

“Bye Tannie,” he whispers. “Thank you,” The boy says to Taehyung, bowing before running to his mom and grabbing her hand. The lady looks at Taehyung and bows her head as well before leaving. Taehyung bows back, turning around to walk back to the group. Yeontan begins to whine as he watches the little boy go.

“No no, we’re going back to the group, I’m sure they’re looking for us.” Yeontan began to cry as he looked over Taehyung’s shoulder.

“He’s just one of the many little boys you met, it’s okay.”

~

“Mommy I want some of that,” Huimang says, pointing to the kimbap. 

“Okay, get some sweetie.” 

“Shouldn’t Taehyung be back by now? I’m getting kind of worried,” Jimin says, feeling uneasy that his best friend has been gone for so long.

“I’m sure he’ll be back, with Yeontan too,” Hoseok says, grabbing some kimbap for Huimang. 

“Tannie!” Soojin yells as the little dog comes running to the picnic blanket, Taehyung not far behind him.

“You’re back!” Jimin says, running up to him and giving him a hug.

“Where did you find Yeontan?” Namjoon asks. 

“He was with some little boy and his mom,” Taehyung answers, sitting back down with everyone.

“Jin hyung, did you pack any strawberries? I’ve been looking for them before I left to get Yeontan and I could really have some right now.” As soon as he said that, Byul’s eyes widened, looking down at the nearly empty bowl that she had. It only contained about three small strawberries. She laughed sheepishly as she passed the small bowl to Taehyung.

“There’s about three left… sorry..”

“Mommy I’m done eating,” Minseok says, leaning over to grab Yeontan. Yeontan squeals as Minseok hugs him tight, wiggling out of his grasp and running off once again. Minseok laughs and gets up to chase Yeontan down. 

“Wait I wanna come!” Soojin yells, running after her older brother. Huimang gets up after her and soon, so does Hana and Moonji. Then lastly Sian caves in and runs off as well. Haneul instead looks up at his mom and cuddles into her chest as he begins to get sleepy. Meanwhile Mingyu was actually awake this time and playing on Uncle Joon’s tummy. 

“I’m not going after them anymore,” Yoongi says, leaning back down and closing his eyes. 

Taehyung sighs, “I should’ve brought his leash.”

“Hey kids, don’t go too far!” Mae yells. As if they knew they’d get in trouble if they were to drift farther like they did earlier, Yeontan makes a U-turn and runs back towards the picnic blanket, bringing his train of little kids right behind him. 

[nymphigeon]

Roses Have Thorns

♡ Pairing; Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre; Angst, Fluff, Fantasy!AU, Supernatural!AU, S2L, Student!Jungkook, Wizard!Jungkook, Angel!Reader, Demon!Reader, Student!Reader

♡ Warnings (for this chapter); Panick attack

♡ Rating; NC-17

♡ Words; 2950

♡ Summary; A girl forced to live in fear because of her own power. Even though she isn’t supposed to exist, she wants to live. She’ll just make sure that she breaks herself over and over until there is nothing left of her. He, of course, won’t let her.

♡  A/N; Sorry it took me so long... T_T

Series masterlist

Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Jungkook waits, and then waits some more. Nothing happens. There’s no huge fiery impact, no one is currently screaming their lungs out in agony and it is actually rather cold. The previously bustling street full of people seems to have become completely deserted in a mere few minutes. Apart from a gust of wind now and then, nothing happens.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” A beautiful voice reaches his ears, a sugary scent accompanies the pleasant sound. For a moment Jungkook wonders if he died and ended up going to heaven. Surely only an angel could have such a soothing voice? Or maybe he went straight down to hell instead, getting stuck with a mysterious siren.

“You can open your eyes now, the danger has passed.” If Jungkook has to describe their voice, he would say it reminds him of flower fields. The colourful ones with sweet smells all around. It calms him.

Deciding to trust the voice, Jungkook lets out all tension in a low sigh. The rate his heart is beating at slows down, his breathing following soon after. If he doesn’t listen, will they speak again? Is it strange for him to want to hear that soft sound once more?

Still, he slowly opens his eyes. A few steps away from him stands the owner of the voice. She isn’t looking at him, only showing her back. Her hair carefully follows the direction of the wind, a light glow present on the strands despite the sun not showing itself.

As the mysterious girl promised, all danger seems to have vanished. Nothing is on fire, nothing has been destroyed. Except for the absence of all the humans normally walking through, nothing has changed.

Sensing that Jungkook has opened his eyes, the girl turns around. A fancy mask covers her face, hiding everything except for the radiant colour of her eyes. The black mask in what looks to be the shape of Anubis’ head seems to be crafted out of a fine sleek material, adorned with little sparkling crystals along the outlines.

“I’m not sure why they’re targeting you…” As she speaks she takes calculated steps towards the still slightly frozen boy. “But I know they aren’t a group you should mess with.” Bending down, she picks up the plastic bag with groceries Jungkook dropped earlier, holding it out in front of her for him to grab. He makes sure not to touch her hands as he accepts the bag, scared that the silk laden fingers might burn him. Who is she?

“I-I..” So many questions and so little answers. Jungkook has no idea where to start, but he knows he has to find his voice. Everything is happening too fast.

“I didn’t do anything..” It would be surprising if she didn’t hear the way he swallowed, or the way his heart slowly picked up the pace in her presence. Jungkook has always prided himself in being rather fearless, and although that was before he almost met death himself, he can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I believe you.” She smiles, even though he can barely see it. “Stay out of trouble okay?” Raising her hand, she slowly waves at him, turning around while she walks back to the ground she previously stood on. “Wait!”

Jungkook is surprised at his actions, but there is no turning back now. He reaches out to her as if to grab her, his hand however only meets air. She doesn’t wait. When Jungkook opens his eyes after a blink, she is gone. Regret creeps up his back. He never got the chance to thank her.

The ringing of his phone brings him out of the self-deprecating spiral he got stuck in. Without looking at the name of the caller, he picks up. “Jungkook! Are you okay?! Where are you? You’re not hurt right? Do I need to come get you?” Namjoon rambles on as soon as Jungkook answers the phone, not really giving him time to actually answer any of the questions.

“I heard there was an attack near the grocery store. Should I call an ambulance? Police? Are you dyi-” “Joon, I’m fine.” Jungkook interrupts him. “I’m not hurt at all, I’m on my way home.” Jungkook can hear Namjoon sigh in relief. “Stay inside, I’ll be there soon.” Jungkook hangs up after, knowing the other will start rapidly throwing sentences his way again as soon as he gets the chance to speak.

Determined to not make the same mistake twice in a row, he quickly texts Namjoon a ‘Thank you for worrying’ before returning the phone to its original place. The bag filled with food feels heavy in his right hand. Jungkook definitely isn’t going back to get that eggplant now.

“Where have you been?” Haeun questions as soon as you come through the door. Her arms are crossed, her facial expression neutral. It’s almost like she was waiting for your return. “Does it matter?” You don’t look at her as you take off your shoes, long having gotten used to her behaviour.

“Would I be asking if it didn’t?” She taps her foot on the ground in annoyance. “Makes me wonder what you’re trying to hide.” Tired of leaning against the wall, Haeun closes the distance between you two ever so slightly. Not to intimidate, but to figure out. Maybe both.

“What are you trying to protect dear sister?”

Even while looking the opposite way, it’s not hard to miss the smirk on her face, amusement clearly evident in her voice. Teasingly she searches for your eyes, circling around like you’re the prey she just can’t let go of. A predator’s gaze rests upon you, burning through the barrier you set up in between.

“Where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, it’s none of your concern. Please just leave me alone.”

With that you escape past her, not sure how much longer it will take before her treating gaze gets to you. Getting to your room is the goal, preferably without her presence following you around.

“You won’t gain anything by being secretive.” There is nothing to be hidden, nothing to be uncovered. Though your older sibling has always been leaning more towards the creepy dark side, she can be of no harm to you. At least, as long as you didn’t want her to be.

“Maybe not. That too, doesn’t concern you.” No more words float through the air after that. You turn the first corner after getting up the long flight of stairs, hoping to lose her attention for you. It seems to work as the sound of her walking gets further and further away.

Each and every time it was like this. Never straying away from that awkward strangers phase. If only she would treat you like her younger sister. If only she wouldn’t turn those cold eyes on you each time, perhaps the two of you could’ve been friends. If only.

Upon entering your room you immediately fall unto your bed, the action causing a loud dull sound to echo throughout the room. It’s always been too big for simply one person, the bed, the room. From the moment you were born, the next bedroom always had to be bigger than the last. Though, not because you wished for it to be that way. The real reason was always left from your ears.

Out of your pocket the soft melody of a notification sounds. It hasn’t changed since your 16th birthday. Nothing has changed since your 16th birthday.

‘I’m sure you heard the news already. I’m glad Haeun reported your safe return home, I got worried about your wellbeing. No details are out yet, so please be careful. They might return sooner than you think. I love you.’

The message makes you smile. Despite being the youngest at home, your dad never worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Since haven proven yourself to him a long time ago, he was never overly worried. Your mother wasn’t exactly the same.

Your parents have never been home a lot, always out and about for reasons you weren’t all that interested in. Business has never been your major of preference. As one of the few powerful individuals of society, both your mother and father had lots of work to do. Your mom having just a little bit more work than the man she married.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry. I hope you’re being careful too.’

After texting back you let your phone fall next to you. You need a hot shower to clear your mind.

It had taken Jungkook a lot longer to get home than normally. Despite him calming down considerably, his legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Even getting the key to fit in the lock took more effort, his hands refusing to stay still.

The key rapidly ticking against the metal door handle must’ve alerted the person still inside. Before Jungkook can insert the piece of metal, the door flings open, almost hitting him in the head. If it wasn’t for the leftover adrenalin giving his reflexes a much needed boost, it would’ve actually struck.

He doesn’t even get the chance to step inside before a familiar body flings itself at him. “Thank god you’re okay.” Namjoon sounds like he is about to cry, his worried state awfully clear. For a few seconds Jungkook just stand there, not being used to Namjoon showing that much physical affection. He however is quick to return the hug when his brain as made sense of the situation.

“Let��s get inside okay?” Jungkook pats his back and pulls away from the older boy, speed walking inside to drop the overfilled bag on the dinner table. Those can be put away later, when the remaining traces of adrenalin running through his veins have lost their effect. That might take a while.

Namjoon, who had quickly closed the front door behind him, pulls out a chair to sit on, motioning for Jungkook to do the same next to him. As soon as both of them are comfortably seated, Namjoon decides to talk. “So, what happened exactly?”

It takes a while for Jungkook to form a coherent response. Despite the fact that only 20 minutes have passed since the incident, his memory is foggy. “Just… People started screaming all of a sudden. Everyone was running in the same direction, away from whatever threat was rapidly approaching. I looked up and right there was a massive ball of flames heading in my direction.”  The sight he witnessed at that moment still managers to send shivers down his spine. Never before had he been that close to dying.

Jungkook takes in a few breaths to calm himself down. It’s okay now, he’s safe. At least, he hopes. “I didn’t know what to do, while my mind was screaming at me to run, my whole body just wouldn’t cooperate. Before I knew it, it was too late to run. All I could do was wait for it to hit, which it, as you can see, never did. When I opened my eyes everyone was gone.”

“So they just retreated like that?” Namjoon’s face shows his confusion. It doesn’t make sense, though Jungkook still nods. He doesn’t have any other explanation. “I don’t know what happened. One moment they were there and the next they had completely disappeared.”

He feels dizzy, something isn’t right. “Jungkook, you said it was a fire attack right? The sender can’t just stop those once fired. The only way is to create a barrier in front of the fire, which requires a lot of skill. Too late and your attack has already hit it’s target, too early and it might backfire right into yourself. Besides that there’s also the strength and the type of the barrier…” Namjoon sighs, realizing there is too much to this to properly explain right now. “In short, even the most well-practiced get it wrong all the time. You would’ve definitely noticed had they tried something like this.”

Jungkook trusted Namjoon, he really did. Namjoon has always been the one with all the facts, no matter the subject. So then why was it so hard to believe him right now? Jungkook didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything and surely didn’t feel anything.

“If it wasn’t for the news reporting the attack I would’ve thought you had been hallucinating.” It’s not weird for people to forget details after traumatic events, Jungkook is well aware. Though the story in his head seems logical, it obviously isn’t. What is missing however, Jungkook doesn’t know.

“Did nobody see what happened?” It’s the only hope he has. The only way he’s going to get any answers.

“There’s no footage. Before the news crew could arrive everything had already ended. As it seems right now nobody has recorded the event either and since the attack took place in the sky security camera’s probably haven’t captured anything except for a bunch of people running. You were the only one who wasn’t running. I assume it won’t be long before the police contact you.”

Despite the increasing dizziness he’s experiencing, Jungkook manages to put on a sheepish smile. He knows Namjoon doesn’t mean any harm, but the statement does hurt his pride a bit. The smile doesn’t stay long, the unease takes over.

Nothing makes sense. Nothing about this whole story makes sense. Jungkook realizes he must have missed something. A vital piece of information. If it was so important, then how did he forget? What exactly happened?

He couldn’t have been alone, or rather, he definitely wasn’t alone. “Wait no, there was somebody else…” There was someone there. “Who was there?” Namjoon looks at Jungkook’s expression with worry. “Somebody else…” He can’t finish his sentence. There was someone there. “I-” He isn’t going crazy, or maybe he is. A slowly disappearing silhouette. Something happened, something must’ve definitely happened.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Namjoon puts his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders, trying to shake him out of whatever spiralling thoughts he was stuck in. It doesn’t exactly work, as Jungkook keeps blankly staring into space.

“I-I need some rest.” Jungkook stands abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair he was seated on. The feelings that had calmed down slowly rise up again. Perhaps they did do something to him. Perhaps he might still die, falling over out of nowhere, succumbing to the curse put upon him.

Who was there? Jungkook almost sprints to his room and slams the door closed behind him. In the comfort of his own space, he lets himself go. The panic he never got to properly process returns. Heavy breaths escape, heat creeps up his back. He can’t remember anyone.

Screams, running, hot, blue, flaming, silence. The order doesn’t change, the information doesn’t change.

Sitting on the corner of his bed, Jungkook lets his head fall into his hands. He can’t focus anymore. Words repeat, scenarios bounce around, the room is spinning, his hands are sweating. The unwelcoming tells of needing to throw up introduce themselves. Jungkook tightly closes his eyes. He needs this to stop.

“Jungkook breathe! In and out, come on..” Namjoon’s voice sounds so far away. When he had arrived here Jungkook doesn’t know. The company isn’t unwelcomed, nor is it helpful.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Jungkook tries to make himself as small as humanly possible. Had he truly been hallucinating? Each time he seems to recall something it slips through his fingers. There was someone else. Fragments of sentences exchanged distort, unclear.

The room is void of any oxygen, he can’t breathe. This is it, it’s the end, suffocated by his own thoughts. He wasn’t alone, and yet he was. He was alone, and yet he wasn’t. Is this his own fault? Was he cursed?

What if the attack was supposed to go this way? They never intended on killing him straight up, they wanted him to suffer. Slowly accepting the darkness surrounding him.

Jungkook’s eyes had long been closed when a loud crash was heard. “Jungkook! Please listen to-” It didn’t matter anymore, he would die anyway. Namjoon’s voice slowly drifts away, the beating of his own heart slowly dims. It’s all too loud, but way too quiet.

And then it’s dead silent.

A low humming can be heard in the distance. Accompanied by feather light footsteps, the sound comes closer, stopping right beside him. He loves the sound, wants to keep listening to it. And so he does.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.”

All of a sudden Jungkook realizes how exhausted he feels. Slowly he lets himself go, calming down in the safe environment filled with their voice. Before he can completely fall into the deep slumber luring him in, he decides to take one more deep breath.

“Sweet..”

Namjoon looks down at the sleeping boy on his shoulder. For the second time that day he lets out a relieved sigh. At last, the younger one felt at peace.

Carefully he moves Jungkook to lay on the bed instead and stands up to take cleaning supplies from another room. “Strong negative emotions must result in a significant loss of magic control..” Namjoon mumbles to himself, watching the different sized shards on the ground.

As he opens the door to exit the room, he looks back at the smiling sleeping boy on the bed. Reflecting his friend, Namjoon takes on a smile of his own. Today had brought a rollercoaster of emotions to them both. Ending like this was probably the best possible outcome.

“Are you having good dreams?” It’s whispered into the awaiting air. The only reply given is Jungkook slowly curling into himself, clearly happy with the flower field he ended up in.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Fire and Darkness

Member: Seokjin (BTS)

Prompt: Song!drabble, inspired by You Should See Me in a Crown, Bilie Eillish 

Rating: PG-13

Idea: Persephone!Y/N + Hades!Seokjin

WC: 2,421

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

“More wine?” Seokjin offers, politely dabbing his lips with a dark, linen napkin.

The entire table is elegantly set with fine silver plating and red bouquets of poppies. Poppies are your mother’s favorite flower, although you could have told Seokjin she would remain unimpressed. Demeter regards the dinner before her with the stiff boredom of the upper class, deigning to dine with the lesser.

“No, thank you.” Deliberate, the goddess sets down her fork. “I rarely indulge when I travel. Tell me, daughter,” she says, turning to you. “How go things in the Underworld?”

Demeter says the word Underworld in the same way some might say vermin. Arching a brow, Seokjin faces you in tandem. His lips are pressed tightly together, as though he is trying to hold in his laughter.

“The same as usual,” you say with a shrug. “Fire. Torture. Lots of dead people.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch, though he remains silent. His dark aura is prominent, rolling off him in waves. When you first met, you found this to be intimidating but now, his power is merely a comfort to you. A solid reassurance he sits there beside you.

Demeter winces at your bluntness. “Well.” Lifting a small piece of ambrosia, she daintily chews. “At least there are only three months left of your banishment, daughter. Soon, you’ll be home where you belong. On Mount Olympus.”

Seokjin’s grip on his knife tightens. 

He harbors no love lost for Olympus, for the brothers who cast him out with nary a thought. You hold little love for the mountain either, but this is a fact Demeter chooses to ignore.

“Yes, of course,” you say, reaching out for your glass. The dark gemstones of your diadem glimmer when you turn your head. “I welcome the day.”

If your mother truly listened, she would hear the lie in your voice, but Demeter either does not, or will not. Seokjin does, though. His gaze permeates the dark haze of the room; he is looking at you, always looking at you. This is his dominion, after all – the depths of the Underworld. The endless shadow realm with which he was tasked to rule. It is his Kingdom which Demeter insults. Your Kingdom, as well, for six months of the year.

This was the bargain struck behind both of your backs.

Releasing a sigh, Demeter adjusts her fork on the table. “I am sorry this had to be done, darling,” she says, reaching out for your hand. Although you stiffen, you try not to bite back. “Leaving you down here with him... such a horrible God in such a dastardly place…”

Seokjin lifts a brow. “Horrible, yes. Deaf? Sadly not.”

Demeter continues as though he has not spoken. “Trust me,” she says. “I’m doing everything in my power to convince the Pantheon of your return.”

“Oh, please.” Yanking your hand back, you cut into your meal. “As though you weren’t part of the decision to send me here. You wanted to marry me off to the Underworld. You hoped I would mother a new God.”

Your marriage was a surprise to you, although it shouldn’t have been. These things do happen occasionally. The main pantheon of Gods convene and force the marriage of the lesser, hoping for a child who might bolster their ranks. You know this is what happened to you, even if no one will say it outright. 

Demeter’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. “That is not why you were sent here.”

“Oh?” Equally delicately, you set your silverware down. “So, am I to believe the official version? The human version? The one where Seokjin saw me, kidnapped me and tied me to his bedposts – yes?”

“Completely inaccurate.” Seokjin continues to chew. “I only tie those to my bed who ask to be tied there.”

You continue glaring at Demeter. “We all know the truth, mother. Let us not play pretend.”

Seokjin’s smile widens at your fierceness. He loves it when you get like this; when you are boiling over with purpose and passion. It was one of the first compliments he gave you. This was after your wedding, spoken out of surprise – that someone as seemingly delicate as you were could command such fierce anger.

Gaze narrowed, you meet your mother’s stare head-on. “Do not enter our home and proceed to spout lies.”

“Our.” Demeter’s lips thin. “My, that did not take long. How quickly the world changes, darling.”

“Does it?” You reach out, tracing a line down the petals of a poppy. Instantly, the blood-red veins brighten. “I have never truly felt Mount Olympus was my home. Not in the same way you do. I am not one of the twelve. I am not in charge of anything big, nor important and I was treated as such. Here, though...” 

You leave your thought unfinished. Lifting your gaze to your mother’s, you settle back in your seat. The darkness becomes you, glinting off your crown.

Demeter clenches her jaw. “You act as though the Underworld is preferable to Olympus.”

“Olympus has never been kind to me.”

“Nor to me.” Casually, Seokjin swirls his wine. “Namjoon has always been rather touchy about the sky and Taehyung, the sea. It is not as though I chose this land to govern, you know. Of course you do,” he says, his upper lip curled. “You were there in the beginning, Demeter.”

Demeter draws herself taller. “And yet,” she says, facing him for the very first time. “You seem to have done well enough for yourself.”

Seokjin’s smile widens. 

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, a river of glowing fire is visible. Steam curls wherever lava touches obsidian, gemstones glimmering on either side. It is a stunning visual, if a somewhat unconventional one. There is nothing like it on Mount Olympus.

“I make do,” Seokjin says simply.

Sniffing, Demeter pushes her chair back to stand. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay for that nightcap,” she says, her hands folded before her. Soft, violet light radiates from her form. “I must return to my duties.”

“Pity.” Your chair screeches when you stand, yet you pay this no mind. “The visit was too short.”

Demeter’s eyes narrow as she nods, as though in agreement. Turning around, she glides across the floor.

In any other domain, Demeter would simply vanish at will. Not in the Underworld though, where beings can only come and go at Seokjin’s behest. Gods and mortals alike must exit in the same manner – rowed across the river Styx by Charon, beneath the gaping jaws of Cerberus.

Seokjin watches your mother leave, a polite smile on his lips. When the door closes behind her, echoing through the room, he holds up a hand. Seokjin waits, listening for something before his body relaxes.

“She’s gone,” he says, glancing your way. “Just exited the palace. Charon will take it from there.”

Still staring at the door, you pull yourself from your thoughts. Turning around, you push your mother from mind as you stride towards the window. Each step you take transforms your clothes, lengthening and darkening from the springtime colors you know your mother prefers. Loosening your hair, you let this fall to your neck.

Coming to a stop, you survey the world at your feet. On your first day in the Underworld, you were determined to hate it. There were no pleasant stories about the darkest of Gods. Seokjin was rumored to be moody and fierce, with the gall of enjoying the hellish Kingdom he ruled.

Of course – as it is with most things concerning the Gods – Seokjin was not as he seemed.

He was moody, yes and he could be fierce when provoked. Never to you though, which you saw right away. The Gods warned you he loved to play games and so, when you met, you had your guard up.

Despite this, he greeted you at the gates for your arrival. Your first day was a tour; Seokjin led you through the Underworld with the same reserved politeness as a tour guide on holiday.

You saw none of his legendary fire and brimstone then – Seokjin merely nodded, leading you around the palace. His realm was nothing at all like what you’d imagined. The other Gods only spoke of the Underworld disparagingly, with a tinge of fear to their tone. They said Seokjin’s Kingdom was the land of dead things, of cold things, but now you know better.

The Underworld is a realm of fire and darkness, of whimsy and spirit – there are no limits within as to what you can achieve. In the reflection of the palace window, you see Seokjin walk up alongside you.

His appearance has also changed with the departure of Demeter. Instead of his company garments, Seokjin is dressed in a plain tunic and trousers. His hair is darker, messier and framing his face. No jewelry adorns his body, save for the gold band upon his finger.

Upon reaching your side, Seokjin glances sideways. “Are you alright?” 

Slowly, you nod. Still staring at the wasteland, your gaze roams molten lakes, rugged mountains and glimmering terrain. Beyond the river Phlegethon, which cuts through the gardens, lies the region of Tartarus wherein rest the damned. Seokjin keeps them close by, lest they escape and harm the rest of the Underworld.

The rest of your kingdom is nothing like this. Elysium is by far your favorite part of your domain – full of golden meadows which smell of baked bread, fields of asphodel which bloom in whimsical colors. Seokjin loves to change them at his fancy. He loves it even more when you do the same.

All other Gods reign over the living. They control whatever handful of mortals populate its surface and yet, beneath it all, you and Seokjin are masters of creation.

Nodding, you turn. “I am,” you assure, stepping closer.

Reaching out, Seokjin delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks at you tenderly, despite the fire to his gaze. In response, a blistering heat spreads over your body. Before you met Seokjin, you didn’t understand this connection. You only knew of want, of need – never of this. Never of love.

The first few months in his land were admittedly lonely. Seokjin gave you space, staying as far away from the palace as possible. He thought he was granting you a favor by this; he thought you hated him, like the rest of the Gods.

With time though, the ice between you began to thaw. Your glances lengthened in nature, touches softened and lingered. Before you knew what was happening, you were paying attention. 

You found Seokjin not as serious as the rest of the Gods said. Most of his fierceness was reserved for his domain. When he was not ruling, Seokjin dearly loved to laugh. One night he said he loved your laugh the most.

When you returned to Olympus, you didn’t realize how difficult the separation would be.

You thought you would enjoy being home. You imagined when you came back things would return to normal, but the shadows of Seokjin clung to your existence. Most nights you lay awake and imagined his touch. Most days, your thoughts strayed to his arms, to his kisses and the inexorable sound of his laughter.

Without him, the halls of Olympus felt strangely empty.

You only saw him once during those long summer months – the solstice; a night where all gods gathered on Mount Olympus to celebrate. Even Seokjin was to attend, the mighty God of the Underworld, who rarely left his realm of darkness.

The moment he set foot on the mountain, you knew. You could feel his presence in your bones, you glanced up when he entered and found him looking at you. When your gazes met, he softened. When you saw him, you strengthened.

And then, you realized everyone around you had stiffened. That was when you saw Olympus for what it truly was. As the bride of the Underworld, you finally saw how they treated him. Seokjin was a God. He was a member of the Pantheon, one of the most powerful beings in existence and yet, he was held separate.

Seeing how cruel the Olympians were tore you apart; it replaced the ache in your chest with a fierce desire.

When your six months of penance were over, you fairly flung yourself across the river Styx. Seokjin waited calmly when you ran into his arms. That was the moment you realized where you belonged. 

At home – with him.

Tilting your chin upwards, you meet Seokjin’s gaze. “You aren’t horrible, you know.”

He raises a brow. “How rude,” he says as he draws you near. “I don’t come into your home and insult your better nature.”

“This is my home.”

“Oh, right.” Seokjin hovers above your mouth. “The sentiment stands.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you chide, sliding hands up his back.

Seokjin shivers – the fearsome lord of the Underworld, undone by your touch. “I wouldn’t,” he admits, bending to brush his nose with yours.

Satisfied, your grip on him tightens. Since you fell in love, you have found parts of yourself which lay dormant before. You uncovered a carnal, seductive woman who takes what she desires. Before, you always asked for permission. Before, you always waited for permission to be granted.

With Seokjin though, you’re his Queen and there is no need to ask. He encourages you to act on your desires – insists upon it.

Tilting your head, you brush your lips with his. The moment before your lips touch, something inexplicable crosses his expression. Something almost like uncertainty, which gives you pause.

“What is it?” you say, pulling back.

Seokjin hesitates, which is unusual. Although he is quiet, Seokjin speaks his mind freely to you. Still, the shadows behind him seem to lengthen with each passing second.

“Do you…” His normally stoic gaze flickers. “Do you wish Demeter to be successful?”

“What do you mean?” 

Seokjin strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The rest of the Pantheon put you here. My brothers put you here. It was not your choice to marry me, even if I did not ask. Do you ever… wish to return?”

Your answer requires no pause. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you say, stepping closer. Pressing your chest to his, you look up. “My burden is not what you imagine it to be.”

“No?” Seokjin seems mildly amused by your certainty. “Pray tell.”

“Perhaps it was at first,” you admit, wanting to be honest. “I didn’t want to leave the world I knew. But now...” You glance past him, to where the river Phlegethon cuts a golden path through the gardens. It sends a strange hum of rightness through you. “I would not be anywhere else. My burden now is being parted from you,” you whisper, returning to Seokjin.

Hope flickers, however brief, within his dark gaze.

“You brought me to life,” you say, hands sliding up his back. “With you,” you add, meeting his gaze. “I finally feel like myself.”

Something sparks in him then, lowering his beautiful brow to yours. “You are the only alive thing in this world,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If I played the smallest part in this, my Queen, then consider me satisfied.”

“Satisfied?” you purr, lips lifted in a smile.

Seokjin’s dark gaze turns carnal. “Never,” he confesses, kissing you deeply.

   © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[btxtreads]

the world ends with you | choi yeonjun (6)

How can someone fall in love at the most incovenient time?

➴ Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader ➴ Rating: R-13 ➴ Word Count: 737 ➴ Genre: Multiverse!AU, Fluff, Angst, My usual taehyun is the smartest out of everybody trope ➴ Triggers: Dead person, slit on throat but not graphically explained

Please refer to the next release “The Notes” for whatever Y/N found lol

“Yeonjun?” Y/N called, running forward with a gasp—tears flowing out of her eyes. “Oh god.”

She paid no mind to the fact that she was ruining the pansies under her feet as she did her best to run towards him.

Her feet sunk into the pond he was submerged in—which was red with blood coming from her boyfriend.

Yeonjun was wrapped in flowers as he sat in a chair, a slit running through his throat as blood fell down his body.

He was decked in all white—just like he was the last time she saw him—but his eyes were closed and his body felt cold to the touch.

He’s been like that for a while.

Instead of the usual void that she sees in her dreams, Y/N and Yeonjun were in an open field—she can see the sun burning—but it was still dark with clouds and thunder rolling through the sky.

Everything was bright red, buildings and towers around them were falling apart—and so was she.

“Junie, Junie. Yeonjun, please?” She pleaded.

There was no response—he stayed limp.

“Yeonjun?”

No reply.

“Yeonjun!” Y/N screamed, shooting up in her bed.

She panted, wiping the sweat off of her forehead as tears fell from her eyes.

“Yeonjun,” She whispered, hand reaching out to take the flower in her desk.

It’s been a week since she came back.

Her eyes darted back to her desk, where two small frames sat.

One held a printed photo of her with the boys—Yeonjun, Soobin, Taehyun, Kai and Beomgyu—when they went out to eat once.

The other was a photo of her and Yeonjun on one of her dates.

Shortly after she returned, she figured out that nobody knew of the boys—or anything about the world she came to.

Her world had no Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun or Kai.

It never had a Yeonjun.

Only she knew—her memories with the boys stored on her phone with pictures of fleeting memories that she tried her best to hold on to.

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep her tears at bay as she held an old phone directory in her hands.

Her fingers skimmed the page—looking for one thing.

Choi. It can be Yeonjun, Soobin or Beomgyu. It didn’t matter.

Kang. Where’s Taehyun?

Huening. Where are you, Kai Kamal?

Y/N sighed, wiping away her tears of desperation as she closed the directory, turning once more to her laptop.

Choi Soobin. No results.

Choi Yeonjun. No results.

Choi Beomgyu. No results.

Kang Taehyun. No results.

Hueningkai. No results.

This was it—it was over. She’s wasted every single resource.

She wanted to be there, back with her friends, back with Yeonjun.

She wanted to protect him—but the world was being such a dick.

Unless…

With a renewed vigor, Y/N shot up and walked over to the science section.

The Multiverse Theory.

There’s got to be something.

Y/N sighed as she took another book.

So far, all she’s been getting is useless things—this could happen, or that might be the case—but no actual theory to test.

Her phone vibrated, making her flinch.

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Library, Namjoon.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her face “What do you want?”

“Library—again?” Namjoon sighed. “You’ve been in there for weeks!”

“I’m curious about something. What do you want?” Y/N repeated, her eyes skimming another book.

“What something?”

“The multiverse theory—anymore questions?”

“Oh,” Namjoon sighed. “I suggest you check this book called the Theory of the Universe by Kang Donghae,”

“Noted,” Y/N stood up, immediately looking for the book.

“Okay, hurry home after your weird search for knowledge.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Y/N huffed—locating the thick, red, hard-bound that Namjoon spoke of.

At the front engraved in bold, golden letters was the title and the author’s name.

On the dedications page, it said: To whoever is reading this to pursue truth, or find a solution to time.

In the middle of the book was a couple of loose papers—with notes.

She frowned and checked the papers.

Enhanced Humans: Failures and Trials.

Her brain went into overdrive as she read through everything.

She finally knew what was going on.

She knew what happened—who Yeonjun was. Why she couldn’t find him.

She knew she had to go back.

[vminity21]

Whimsical | knj

Pairing: Student!Namjoon x female!reader

Genre: fluff/mildangst

Word Count: 4,788

Warning(s): mild language use, slight angst involving the struggles of adulting, tooth rotting fluff, Rating: pg

Summary: Living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a stroll where the cherry blossoms abundantly bloom, you did not expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely did not expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted off your shoulders. 

“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You have already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.

Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you would like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It has only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you have sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscious, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.

The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.

You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.

You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you have been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,

“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep their focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.

 Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.

You have seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there is something different. Rather, the sense that you are alone diminishes which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you are in. How he seems so close when he is far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.

Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There is a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He is clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,

He opens his eyes-

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.

You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.

“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”

“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”

“I should have watched where I was going-”

“Well, I should have, too.”

With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression, and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.

“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.

“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.

“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”

“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you are still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”

“I- erm, about that-” There is not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”

“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”

“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”

It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality. 

 The air is calmed in a manner that reflects a pleasant silence where your focus happens to remain on the cold mush of fibrous moss gathering between your fingers. Eyes are closed momentarily yet the hint of the sun is evident, but the source of your confusion isn’t from the odd wonder of why your hands are gripping the earth, instead, it is for the question of why your back is pressed to the ground as though you have fallen into slumber.

Blinking open to the blue of the sky, you are paused for only a mere moment to discover this time, sparse altocumulus clouds entering your vision enough to ease yourself to sit up. Freeing your digits from what you see to be a deep shade of magenta mingled with numerous hues of green festooning across the land, it is astonishing the beauty your vision is encountering prompting you to whirl your head in every direction to take in the glacier gray of the mountains you observe to be cratering a lapis glow of a lake.

The familiarity of a reminiscent involving a body of water decides to accompany your mind, but the difference between your memory of what you assume regards to reality, is that what you are gazing upon now, is nothing but magical. In wondrous awe, you find yourself standing, taking a slow bare foot forward, just to be halted when the feel of something is settled around your head. Furrowed eyebrows, you lightly tap along what feels to be numerous twigs tangled together with stems of bloomed petals. You raise your other hand to retrieve the item, glance widening at the myriad of dancing colors in the form of flowers embellishing what looks to be what one would call a crown.

Has it been there all along?

An inkling to turn around urges you to do so, lips parted in a gasp though not one sound escapes. He stands before you, the man from a preceding ponder, dressed in white, angelically beaming from head to toe, imitating the enchanting resonation of the atmosphere, causing you to long for whatever bliss he has within his touch. Did he give this to you?

Tenderly, he reaches to place his fingertips beneath the flower crown where your heart leaps at the faint brush of his skin. Lifting it ever so steadily, he returns to set the emblem where it belongs, to the empress of his heart, of his universe, completing you in all entirety. Your eyes flicker between his in suppressed doubt; is this real? You are so enveloped in the amiability of his gape, your palms extend to fold along his shoulders, leading his hand to rest at the side of your neck. He is reading your soul as much as you are trying to decipher his, but there is a connection that no other will ever be able to gain from you as much as him.

The nearness of him is what you are now in concentration of, leaning closer, waiting for what you are hoping for-

Namjoon’s long frame slides upon the plaid picnic blanket, abdomen first, while he folds his arms to where he rests his cheek, “I’m feeling the weight of that essay from last night,”

“And, you still turned it in late,” you tease, munching on a snack while he throws a playful side glance. It’s been a month since the reuniting, and the friendship has become exactly what you have been needing. Unfortunately, finances have still been a heavy burden, but at least you have found an ally in Gyeongju who is just as excited to see you as you are him.

“I mean I was pretty distracted,”

Scoffing, you smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand, “That video of that kitten was so cute, and you know it,”

“I never said it wasn’t cute,” the way his lips break into the widest smile, his eyes squinting in the way they do that then reveals his dimples; as much as you’d like to deny the way your heart feels a sense of longing, you mask it quite effortlessly.

“You literally giggled so much, I thought you were going to pee,” breathy laughter escapes him prompting him to bury his head into his arms, your gaze never leaving his shaking shoulders. “Well, it’s true!” Moments such as these bring a joy you are thankful exists, but little does Namjoon know, or so you assume, that once you step into your apartment to be reminded of how little you have moneywise, the depression seeps in. It is hard enough to work every day as hard as you do, just to watch your paycheck subtract away right before your eyes with each bill. It is something you haven’t necessarily opened about, because you just don’t know how. And, the last thing you need is for someone to offer help that you know they may not have.

“That’s only happened one time!” He exclaims, him shifting to lean more on his side so he can peer up at you. This area particularly is further within the park where there are not as many trees, which gives enough space to lay out a blanket and view the scenery. Sunshine brightens the atmosphere as well as warming your skin, and though you’re continuing to cackle with Namjoon, you slide until you are upon your back, using your arm to shade some of the sunlight. One perk regarding the park is it’s free, which is why you always ask to come here when hanging out, and you refuse to let Namjoon pay a dime for anything, not even a candy bar.

The nearness of his body does not heighten your senses until you turn to look at him, and that’s when you melt wishing nothing more than to kiss him. Which explains the dreams you’ve been having lately. Laughter has ceased for the time being, instead the conversation moves into a different subject, one you hoped wouldn’t happen, but considering your avoidance of going to many places, and the embarrassment of Namjoon seeing the emptiness of your kitchen one too many times, the paranoia of him catching on to why you have been slightly more stressed than usual may enter his suspicions.

“Have you been okay?” By the tone of his voice, you can tell right away he is aware of something. But, how can you tell him you are fine, when you are nowhere near one hundred percent. You definitely feel that way when with him, because he makes you forget about the reality at home, but gives you a time to escape, a time to embrace the joy he provides you every chance he gets. Should you tell him the truth? “[Y/N], I never mentioned this before just because I figured it was just coincidence, but when was the last time you’ve gotten groceries? Like, actual groceries,”

“Ramen is groceries,”

“I-” Namjoon pauses, “What I mean is, more than just ramen noodle cups and stale chips,”

“Maybe that’s how I like my chips. Corny and stale,”

“That sounds-”

“Listen,” you lift an index finger, “if vegetables and fruits would last longer than a week, I totally wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting money.”

“You know if you need anything, I’m here for you,” his words nearly bring you to tears, leading you to turn your head in the opposite direction to avoid his concerned expression. He knows you are making excuses at this point and of course, he is not entirely sure of why, but he may be able to guess correctly if he tried.

“I don’t need anything, I promise I’m fine,” your reply is soft, but loud enough for him to hear. Though you can’t see it, Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, him picking at his fingertips while in deep concentration. He is learning that you, stubbornly, are most definitely not going to let him help in any way, but unbeknownst to you, is that he will stop at nothing to make sure you are okay no matter what.

“Look at me,” your heart skips a beat immediately when you slowly return to where he is within your glimpse, his thumb reaching to brush your bottom lip where he inches much closer than you anticipated. All you know, is that if he reads every word that your mind is screaming, your heart may burst out of your chest. Yearning for his kiss, he is close enough to where his breath sweeps your chin, “[Y/N], really, if there is anything at all that you absolutely need, please know I will do anything for you,”

Your fingers bundle into the collar of his shirt absentmindedly, letting his forehead press upon yours before you dare to close the gap you are so anxiously wanting to do. His thumb now strokes your cheek, tickling your skin to the point you feel breathless.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, a hushed tear dropping onto your cheek before he swipes it away.

“I just want you to be okay,”

“I am,” you try your best to sound reassuring, “Joon, I promise you I am,”

“Okay,” he whispers, and even then, you have no idea the best that is yet to come.

Sleeping cherry blossoms encircle you save for the entrance of a tunnel gleaming piercingly bright in the distance that seems so close yet so far out of reach. The iridescent shades of the petals glitter in preparation for what is to come, but your focus solely remains on the escape ahead into a world you have always dreamed of. Or is this the world you have always dreamed of? Scents of the florets waft past your nose in a way to ease you, and the lingering thought of the man clothed in white shadows the crevices of your conscious. Just the mere reminisce of him prompts his appearance and as he stands behind you in all his glory, he knows the desire looming beneath your chest for the magic you crave.

His arms reach to link around you, chin nestling on your shoulder; there is no fear for he is the only being welcome in your world of serenity. Your hands smooth upon his folded arms that remain resting against your abdomen, and forever seems to be in the forefront of your mind. Spinning within his embrace, a subtle smirk graces his mouth while your hands glide to his chest, and finally after many dreams of pining, he leans in to close the gap- snatching your lips as softly as you have imagined causing the closed petals all around the pair of you to bloom endlessly, flourishing every ounce of space the two of you may have had a fraction before. The power is within his kiss, summoning the blossoms to awaken as they are meant to. The same as he is meant to be with you.

 “I miss you, too, Mom,” you smile into the phone, sifting through the mail you just checked, eyebrows furrowing when you feel as though something is missing. “Yeah- yeah, I have, I mean, yes mom, I may have a boyfriend,” you giggle, shaking your head at your persistent mother who has been dying to catch up with you since you moved. “I think- yeah, I think he may be who I’ve been waiting for,” when a knock at the door alerts you, you quickly bid your mom a farewell with the promise of calling her back tomorrow before you start work again.

Staring at the pile of mail, you wonder why the utility bill has not been sent. It is around the time that it should have arrived meaning you may need to take a short trip to the leasing office if Namjoon doesn’t mind. Giddily, you skip to look through the peephole to see him, standing tall with his slim fingers slipped into his pockets. Unlocking the door, you run a swift hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten the strands before opening the entrance. “Hey!” You breathe, gesturing for him to come in, and when the door closes, you leap into his embrace before smiling into a sweet kiss.

“Are you ready for today? The weather is beautiful out,”

“Beyond ready,” you kiss him again. The anticipation to explore another location involving nature is what you enjoy especially with someone who equally enjoys it as much as you. “But I must make a quick trip to the leasing office if that’s okay? I have Netflix if you want to chill for a bit- it shouldn’t take too long.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips, “Everything okay?”

“Mm yeah,” you reply in a daze, “I just haven’t received my utility bill yet and I’m concerned. Can you um, can you do that again? I may need the extra umph,”

Breathy laughter is interrupted when he kisses you again, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “Okay, I feel better now,”

“Good. Whatever it takes,”

As much as you would love to not have to pay any bills, you saunter across the road to where the leasing office lives, encompassed by sparse trees and a small swimming pool off to the side. You are happy to see Jung Hoseok, leaned on his desk, spectacles slid down his nose, and gaze distracted by whatever he is reading on the computer screen.

“Good morning,” you greet, Hoseok immediately looks to see who has walked in, gesturing with a smile toward a seat in front of his desk.

“How can I help you today?”

“Yes, um, I just went through my mail today and I realized I hadn’t received the utility bill for this month, so I wanted to check to make sure I didn’t miss anything,”

“Ah, yes, let me pull up your account here,” his fingers fly over the keyboard, the clicking noise being the only sound filling the space. “Hm, looks like it’s already been paid for.”

“Excuse me?” Confusion is evident within your voice as well as plastered upon your entire expression. “When did I? I paid it?”

“Mhm, as well as your rent for the rest of the year among all of your other bills. There’s enough money on your account to just automatically draft-”

“But I didn’t-”

“Well it says it right here,” he pokes the screen once.

“Are you able to see when the money was put in? I have no idea how-” The realization hits you suddenly prompting a small gasp.

“Er, is everything okay, Ms. [Y/N]?”

“Yeah,” you say quite breathlessly, gradually standing to your feet, the world spinning faster than you could have prepared for.

“I mean, I can ask my coworker, Taehyung if he knows anything. I got back from vacation today, so I may not have the answer for you-”

“No, no it’s okay. I- I think I know who is responsible. Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

“Anytime, dear!”

Being slightly dizzy while running is an interesting combo, but you make it to your apartment without tripping over your own two feet and you stand before the door, your chest heaving. The dreams you have been having- it all makes sense now. You wanted nothing more than a reason, or a miracle, to feel as if you were home, or where you belonged, and finally, it was given to you in the most unexpected way. When you came to Gyeongju, you had no idea that Namjoon would show up in your life and turn it into the most beautiful adventure you have ever had. You were willing to suffer through the bills if it meant being close to him, and how he figured out your hardship, you are uncertain- you always avoided the subject when it came to hardly having any money. Slowly stepping into your apartment, you click the door closed, Namjoon’s focus turning from the tv to you as he rises to his feet. You are speechless as you gaze at the man of your dreams. When he said he would do anything for you, you never imagined this.

“Whatever it takes?” You croak, hardly sure even now what to say. Namjoon will do anything to make you happy, and that is how you knew after getting to know him the past few months that you were wholeheartedly in love with him. You will spend the rest of your life trying to thank him no matter the circumstances, and as soon as his frame entangles with yours, he whispers,

“Whatever it takes.”

[jamaisjoons]

intro: her IV ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: some clichés, tooth rotting fluff, like no serious, this shit is so cute and wholesome I want to write 20k of angst, perhaps second hand embarrassment? but no, this chapter is hella tame

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: hello children, the much awaited intro: her chapter four is here!!! sorry it took me a while, I kind of hit writers block elfnkfk but anyway, here it is! hope you enjoy it.

⏤ Rewritten as of 25/02/2020

⇥ Previous || Masterlist || Next

Chapter 4: The Picnic

It’s 10am on a Saturday when you’re woken up by your phone ringing on the bedside beside you. You let out a tired groan before blindly feeling around for said mobile device. When your hands finally hit the cold metal of your phone, you grab it and open your eyes slightly. A groan of protest escapes your mouth at the bright light, and squinting you check the caller; ‘Kim Namjoon’ the ID reads. With a slight frown, you swipe the green answer button, pressing your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you ask, voice heavily laden with sleep and slightly croaky. You can hear the boys faintly in the background, and a squeaky voice you recognise as Jungkook’s pestering his father to ‘ask her! Ask her!’.

“Hey ____? Did I just wake you up? I’m so sorry,” Namjoon begins, deep voice apologizingly profusely. You shake your head, before realising he can’t see you, making you clear your throat instead.

“No, it’s okay. Did you need something?” you ask, sitting up in bed as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. In the corner of the room you hear a small whine before your adorable, white fluff of a Samoyed jumps onto the bed, nuzzling into your neck. You scratch his ears, bidding him awake before focusing on your conversation again.

“Oh no! It’s just, we’re having a picnic today at Yoongi’s and the boys were wondering if you wanted to join us? I’m sorry for waking you up, but if you want to go back to sleep it’s fine too,” Namjoon continues, voice carrying over the phone. You can hear Jungkook whine, Taehyung’s ‘no! she has to come!’ faintly ringing through the background.

“Ah, no! I’m free today. I’d love to join you. What’s the address and what time do I need to be there?” you ask, throwing the covers off of you as you make your way into the bathroom, to get ready for the day.

“We’re going to meet around 11 maybe 12 at Seokjin’s and don’t worry about the address. Jin-hyung said he’ll send a driver to come to collect you,” Namjoon replies.

“Oh no! You really don’t need to do that,” you try rebuffing the offer, not wanting to take advantage of your friends.

“He said he won’t take no for an answer. How soon can you be ready?” Namjoon asks and you quickly check the time.

“Umm, I think I could be ready by 10:30, 10:45 at the latest,” you reply after calculating however much time you’d need to shower and get dressed.

“Okay perfect. The driver will pick you up at 10:45. See you soon!” Namjoon says but you quickly call out to him before he can cut off the call.

“Wait! Can I bring my dog? I’m supposed to walk him today and I don’t think I’ll be able to find someone to watch him this late,” you ask.

“Yeah that’s fine! The more the merrier,” Namjoon responds before cutting the call. You quickly put your phone down on the sink before stripping and getting in the shower.

Half an hour later, you’re almost ready. Swiftly, you throw on some clothes, checking over yourself in the mirror with a final glance. You make sure your make up is blended, and hair as smooth as can be. Finally, deeming yourself ready, you throw on your shoes before grabbing your dog’s harness and strapping it around him. His tail wags ecstatically and you giggle as you pet his head, scratching his cheeks while you wait the driver to call you. You don’t have to wait for long, because at exactly 10:45 you get a message from an unknown number letting you know that it’s the driver and he’s waiting for you downstairs.

You quickly get into the car, making sure your puppy is inside before strapping yourself in. You sit quietly for most of the journey, only speaking every now and then to calm your Samoyed down, stopping him from barking at the people outside of the window. It’s been six months since you met Namjoon and his children, and now you’re more at ease with them; although every now and then it dawns on you that your friends aren’t exactly run of the mill people but are in fact the best artists in Korea.

You contemplate your new friends for a little while longer, and an hour later, the car stops outside a park that looks more like a forest than anything. You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering why you hadn’t stopped at the huge apartment complex that you knew to be Seokjin’s building. The driver sends you a small smile before beckoning you out. You want to ask what the hell is going on, but a familiar figure stops you. Spotting Seokjin’s broad frame walking out from a small clearing in the forestry area of the park, you thank the driver and grab your pup’s leash before stepping out.

“____! Nice of you to join us this fine day,” Seokjin says, greeting you with an overexaggerated bow. You let out a little laugh, curtseying back as your pup stands to the side, wagging his tail and practically begging Seokjin for attention.

“Oh! Look at this handsome man. He’s almost as handsome as me!” Seokjin says, squeaky windshield wiper laughter following. His words make you roll your eyes in fond exasperation, watching as Seokjin plays with your dog.

“Okay, let’s head off before they come looking for us. The boys are super excited about meeting you today. Jungkook almost drove Namjoon up the wall asking where you were,” Seokjin says with a small smile and you giggle, following Seokjin as you imagine Jungkook repetitively questioning his father about your whereabouts.

Seokjin leads you down the same path he emerged from; the two of you wander down the small winding trail; erect trees standing tall on either side. It’s a pretty place, vivid hues of vibrant green surrounding you. A few minutes later, the two of you emerge from a little opening into a wide-open field. You have to stop for a minute, taking in the entire site. The area is surrounded by woodland, giving a truly secluded feel to the area. Various shrubs and flowering bushes grow in sporadic places but the majority of the area is covered in soft green grass. In the middle of the field is the small gaggle of boys and men. Taehyung and Jimin are running around as Hoseok chases them, the two boys squealing and giggling; Yoongi is laying down, undoubtedly attempting to take a nap and Jungkook is practically pressed against Namjoon.

Your pup starts barking, the mildly heavy ball of fluff tugging on your grip on his lead as he tries to join in with the two running boys. Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung’s head whip toward you at the sound of the dog. You spot Jungkook quickly separating himself from his father, Jimin and Taehyung now running towards you and Seokjin. Namjoon and Yoongi both get up, Jungkook grabbing his father’s hand and dragging him towards you. You all meet somewhat in a middle and you keep a firm grip on your excited pup’s lead, not wanting him to jump and tackle the boys who were only slightly bigger than your dog.

“A puppy!” Jimin squeals, immediately throwing himself into your pup’s side, burying his face into the long white hair and nuzzling into it.

“Fluffy doggy!” Taehyung calls out, equally excitable as he attempts to grab as much of the long white hair as he can with his tiny palms.

“What’s his name?” Jungkook asks, large doe-like eyes looking up at you, one hand holding onto his father’s as the other is being licked by your dog, causing Jungkook to let out a tinkling laugh. The minute Jungkook asks his name you freeze, panic consuming you. You had completely forgotten exactly what you’d named your puppy.

In a moment of blind panic, “Reginald!” you blurt out, not wanting to admit the almost embarrassing name of the pup.

“Reginald? Did you really name your dog Reginald?” Namjoon asks, his eyebrow raising, a small teasing smile on his face. You can tell he doesn’t believe you for a single second, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Reginald! Hey look at me,” Hoseok calls, attempting to call out to your dog. However, your pup simply ignores him causing Hoseok to frown.

“He’s not responding. Why isn’t he responding?” Hoseok asks and you bite your lip, looking away. You know exactly why he’s not responding. And it’s because his name is definitely not Reginald. Yoongi, being the ever-observant man, notices your shiftiness and immediately calls you out.

“His name isn’t Reginald is it?” Yoongi asks and you blanch, your stomach dropping as butterflies bloom in your stomach. Are you really about to embarrass yourself in front of them? Yup. You definitely are. You’re sure of it.

With a quiet, barely audible voice, “um… no,” you reply. You really, really do not want to tell them your pup’s name.

“You’re embarrassed!” Seokjin suddenly calls out, his entire face twisting with excitement as he takes in your nervous disposition, “why are you embarrassed? How bad can it be?” Seokjin asks, although there’s a slight twinkle in his eyes that you know means that as soon as you reveal the mildly embarrassing name, he’ll tease you for the next few weeks.

Realising you have no option but to come clean, “Ra… mo…” you mumble out. The guys squint at you and you let out a little sigh.

“Ugh! Fine! Rap Mon. His name is Rap Mon, are you happy?” you finally say, face heated and small pout on your face.

“Sorry what? I didn’t hear that” Hoseok says dumbly, although his lips are tightly pressed together, pulled into a smile and his cheeks puffed out. All signs that he definitely heard you and is struggling not to laugh. Seokjin’s face mimics Hoseok’s and as soon as you let out a defeated sigh, both of them burst out into laughter, unable to contain themselves anymore.

“Rap Mon! Oh my god, his name is Rap Mon! Rap Monster!” Hoseok finally bursts out, struggling to speak from how hard he’s laughing. You let out a small groan, wishing the ground would swallow you up - but simultaneously knowing that you’re never about to live this down.

“Do you remember- do you… oh my god, I can’t… do you remember when Namjoon was Rap Monster?” Seokjin asks, trying to catch his breath between his laughter. Internally, you berate yourself. Honestly, of all things you had to name your dog, you just had to name it after the artists you somehow befriended. Even more so than before, you really hope the earth would somehow split open and swallow you whole. Nervously, you chance a glance at the man your pup is named after and notice that despite his heated cheeks, he’s got the slightest smile etched onto his pillowy lips.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough. She’s allowed to name her dog whatever she wants,” Namjoon finally says, trying to control his friends despite the beaming smile on his face.

“Oh my- Stop,” Hoseok gasps, clutching his stomach as he tries his hardest to breathe, “I can’t. Jin-hyung, look how happy Namjoonie is,” Hoseok points out, both the men falling into giggles once again. Namjoon lets out a little sigh before directing a pleading look towards Yoongi. For the most of it, Yoongi’s got a big smile on his face, gums prominent as he watches his friends. The boys don’t care as much, unbothered by the laughing adults as they continue playing with Rap Mon.

“For what it’s worth, I only call him that when he’s being bad or doing something he isn’t supposed to. I mainly call him Monie,” you try to explain as a way to placate the situation, but your words only set the two older men off again.

“Rap Mon… WHEN HE’S BEING BAD! Oh my god, this is gold. ____, thank you. This is the best present you could have given us,” Hoseok finally says, attempting to collect himself as he pats your back.

“I think whenever Namjoon does something he isn’t supposed to, I’m going to call him Rap Mon too,” Seokjin teases, Namjoon grumbling under his breath. You send Namjoon an apologetic look, but he simply shakes you off.

“It’s fine, they’ll get tired of it eventually,” Namjoon whispers lowly into your ear. Immediately, you stand straight, his presence directly behind your back and low voice in your ear sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, you wonder if he knows whathe’s doing, but before you can reply he’s back to his usual self, herding his children back to the picnic blanket.

You follow the rest of them, placing your bag down on the blanket before reaching over and removing the leash from Rap Mon’s harness so he can run around with the boys. Getting comfortable on the ground, Yoongi offers you some bibimbap which you accept graciously, watching as, this time, your pup chases a laughing and giggling Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook is sitting beside you, happily munching on his snacks as he watches YouTube videos on his father’s phone.

“Sorry about waking you up this morning by the way,” Namjoon apologises once again.

“Honestly, it was no issue. If you hadn’t I’d probably have slept in till about midday. Where are we by the way? When you said picnic at Seokjin’s, I thought we’d be somewhere around his building,” you ask, wondering about the long car ride and lack of buildings or people around.

“We are. Seokjin owns this area,” Hoseok says casually as he munches on some crackers. You stare at him, blinking dumbfoundedly.

“Seokjin owns… land?” you ask and the boys nod - as if it were the most casual thing in the world. Instantly, you deadpan, wondering why you even bother being surprised by how rich they are anymore. Of course, Seokjin just owns land. He was a chaebol after all.

“Technically my father owns it. He was planning on building new company headquarters here, but the boys loved it so much as I asked if I could have it and it just sort of turned into a private park,” Seokjin explains and you nod, wondering if they realisedthat having a private park wasn’t a normal, everyday thing.

Namjoon eventually calls Jimin and Taehyung back, enticing them with food and the lot of you sit, munching happily. Jimin and Taehyung are once again talking about their week in school, this time regaling their tales to Hoseok, Seokjin and Yoongi. They mention an upcoming play in which Jimin wanted to be the princess but got stuck being the prince while Taehyung got to be a dragon even though he really wanted to be the prince, the two of them complaining about the unfairness of it all. Jungkook for the most of it is laying down quietly, using Monie’s body as a pillow; watching Pokémon as your pup keeps him company, Jungkook sneaking Rap Mon his snacks every now and then.

At some point, Hoseok and Seokjin disappear into the forest with a small bag; your eyes follow them with curiosity, wondering what they are up to. However, once they’re out of your line of sight, you turn back to your conversation with the boys, listening and nodding as they continue talking about school, aliens, fairy tales and anything else their six-year-old brains can come up with it. Half an hour later, however, Hoseok and Seokjin return with big grins, throwing the bag down. You look at them curiously, eyes slightly narrowed as you wonder what trouble they’re about to start brewing.

“Okay so, Hoseokie and I decided a normal picnic was going to be too boring. Therefore, we devised a little game,” Seokjin begins and Namjoon immediately groans, most likely knowing the chaos that the two older men were going to bring about.

“What are you two up to? What game?” Yoongi asks, frowning at the two.

“Well, you see. We hid various ribbons around the forest. All ribbons have little prizes on them, anything from snacks to little toys,” Hoseok says and immediately Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook are interested, listening to the older guys curiously.

“But there is one special ribbon, and whoever gets that, gets one toy. Anything you could want, within reason, Seokjinnie-hyung will buy it for you,” Seokjin says and suddenly the boys are starstruck, bouncing up and down. Taehyung and Jimin quickly turn around, ready to run off into the forest but Hoseok and Seokjin quickly grab them before they can wander off alone.

“Hold up there. You can’t go alone, pick an adult to go with,” Hoseok says and all three quickly turn and latch themselves onto their father.

“I pick daddy!” the boys all call out at once and you have to resist the urge to laugh out loud. It was always endearing how attached the boys were to their father. Namjoon for the most of it looks panicked, unsure what to do about the situation.

“That’s not possible. You can’t all pick Namjoonie. You’re making hyungie sad. Do you not wanna go with me?” Hoseok asks with a pout and Jimin let’s go of his father, approaching Hoseok and patting his knee.

“It’s okay Hobi-hyung, I’ll go with you! Don’t be sad,” Jimin says, smiling brightly, eyes pulled into little half crescents and bright grin on his face. Reflexively, your heart lurches in your chest, your face crumpling at how adorably comforting Jimin is.

“I’ll go with Jinnie hyung!” Taehyung calls out, skipping over to the oldest and quickly grabbing the larger hand with his smaller, sticky one. Jungkook looks slightly unsure and you can practically see the gears in his head shifting - choose his father, or someone else.

“Come on Jungkookie, don’t make Yoonie-hyung sad. Otherwise he’ll have no one with him,” Seokjin pouts but your eyes narrow at the mischievous glint mirrored in both his and Hoseok’s eyes. Oh, they’re definitely up to something - you just can’t figure out what. Jungkook looks conflicted but eventually nods, moving over to Yoongi. Yoongi’s eyes narrow at the boys too, cocking his head to the side.

“Who is daddy gonna go with?” Jungkook asks and Hoseok and Seokjin immediately grin. Your stomach drops, dread filling you as you wonder just what they’re planning.

“Daddy’s just going to have to go with ____, isn’t he?” Seokjin says, eyes glistening with mirth. And there it is. They’re planning to get you and Namjoon alone because within the six months of knowing them, you had somehow developed a tiny teensy crush on Namjoon and somehow Hoseok had picked up on it – really with how nervous you could get around him, it was pretty obvious – and loved teasing you for it. You glare at Hoseok, trying to convey that the next time the two of you are alone, he’s dead but he simply laughs you off.

“Hey, no fair! I wanna go with noona,” Jungkook pouts and Namjoon only looks slightly offended that his son chose you over him.

“Ah remember the days when Namjoonie used to be Jungkookie’s favourite, but now its ____,” Seokjin says with a dramatic sigh, causing you to resist the urge to kick him in the shin because really you all know he’s purposely trying to push your buttons.

“It’s okay Kookie, you can take Rap Mon if you want,” you suggest and immediately Jungkook nods enthusiastically, watching as you hand Yoongi Rap Mon’s lead.

Finally, with the groups decided, everyone begins trekking into the forest. Taehyung grabs Hoseok and pulls him into the forest, the two of them rushing as they try to collect the ribbons. Part of you wonders if it’s fair considering Hoseok and Seokjin were the ones to hang them up and thus would know exactly where the ribbons are. Not one to be bested, though, Jungkook grabs Yoongi, pulling him and Rap Mon along because ‘we have to win hyung!’ Jungkook reasons. Although, with what you know about Yoongi, you know it’s most likely that he’ll somehow cheat and steal someone else’s ribbons.

You and Namjoon lazily stroll through the woods, unbothered about actually finding the ribbons because really, what would two grown adults need with children’s toys? It’s quiet enough that you can hear the rustling of the other boys through the forest, Jungkook and Taehyung yelling every now and then when they find a ribbon, although with Jimin and Hoseok’s team, it’s more Hoseok that you can hear than Jimin. You let out a little giggle as you hear a small argument coming from near you.

“That ribbon was ours, you stole it!” Seokjin yells in indignation.

“We found it first, so it’s ours,” Yoongi replies causing you to laugh again as your suspicions were confirmed. Yoongi had somehow figured a way to cheat, and apparently, that way was to follow Seokjin around and steal the ribbons before they could get to it.

“You followed us, that’s the only reason you found it!” Seokjin replies and you can almost imagine the way Yoongi shrugs with a completely faux innocent face.

“You never said following you was against the rules! Come on Jungkookie,” Yoongi calls out and the last thing you hear is Seokjin yelling for Yoongi to come back.

“Sorry about this,” Namjoon apologises and you laugh it off, shaking your head.

“For what reason? I’m having fun!” you say and Namjoon shrugs, rubbing the back of his head guiltily.

“I don’t know. I just feel bad because we woke you up and the boys kinda force you into joining us and now you’re stuck here wandering through the woods with me when I’m sure you had better things to do today,” Namjoon says as he pushes a bush out of the way for you to walk through.

“Okay firstly, stop apologising about waking me up. I said it was alright. And they don’t force me into doing anything, I really love hanging out with them, they’re fun to be around. But also trust me, I’d rather be here spending time with you than anything. I was just gonna sit in and watch Netflix with Monie, so inviting me out definitely made my day more interesting,” you reassure Namjoon with a bright smile

“If you’re sure. I just…” Namjoon sighs, rubbing the back of his head “sometimes feel bad because you didn’t ask to suddenly have three children thrust into your life and I know it can be a lot,” he continues responds, but you only shrug in response.

“Maybe- but honestly? I really am glad they were thrust into my life. They’re lovely children, you’d be completely heartless to not fall in love with them,” you say without thinking. Abruptly, Namjoon stops, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You’ve realised he does that a lot. Sometimes he just stops and stares at you, but his eyes are guarded so you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“You love them?” Namjoon asks and you blink owlishly, not even realising you had said that out loud. You ponder his question for a couple minutes, wondering if you did love them. But no matter how you think about it, you can’t help but know that yes, you do. It may have only been six months, but for some reason, you can no longer remember what your life was like before meeting them. Not only that, but you don’t even want to imagine a life without them, their father and their father’s best friends; because, somewhere along those short six months, they had become a big part of your life. One you wouldn’t give up for the world.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you laugh cheerily, breaking the short silence between you two. Before Namjoon can reply however, you cut him off, “hey! That’s a ribbon isn’t it?” you call out, pointing to a ribbon tied around a branch.

“Yeah, I guess it is. It says one Kakao Friends Ryan mega body pillow,” Namjoon reads out and you freeze, looking at him in awe and wonder.

“What? Are you sure? Are you sure that’s what it says?” you ask abruptly, your eyes practically sparkling as you look at the ribbon.

“Yeah, I’m sure, why?” Namjoon asks, but you basically ignore him, as you begin climbing the tree

“I thought you didn’t care about the prizes?” Namjoon laughs, watching your efforts to scale the tree.

“Are you kidding me? Do you know how much that pillow is worth? Almost a hundred thousand won! I’ve wanted one forever but it seemed like a waste of money. There’s no way I’m passing this opportunity to get a free one,” you call out, silently thanking yourself for wearing jeans as you strain to reach for the ribbon. Namjoon approaches the tree, watching you from underneath.

“Just be careful! We don’t need you falling down,” Namjoon calls out but you shrug.

“It’d totally be worth it, trust me,” comes your immediate reply - Namjoon’s only response to chuckle at you. You shuffle further along the branch, tongue stuck out as you do your best to reach the ribbon. It’s almost in your hands: you just need to stretch a little further.

A couple of moments later, you finally grasp the ribbon. Victoriously, you squeal, pumping your hand in the air. However, in your victory cheer, you had somehow forgotten that you were precariously positioned on a tree branch. You let out a small yelp when you slip, Namjoon’s eyes widening as he runs under to make sure he could catch you, but you manage to catch yourself.

“Be careful,” Namjoon calls from under you and you nod, before turning around. Now comes the part you hadn’t thought through. How the hell are you supposed to get down?

“Um Namjoon, slight problem. I don’t think I can get down,” you say, looking at him in slight nervousness.

“What? How did you manage to climb up but aren’t able to climb down?” Namjoon asks and you let out a little huff.

“It just happened okay! It’s higher up here than I thought it would be,” you reply and Namjoon shakes his head in exasperation.

“You could jump and I could try to catch you,” Namjoon suggests and you look at him as if he’s grown three heads.

“Not a single chance in hell that’s happening buddy,” you immediately refuse. Namjoon laughs at your obvious distaste for his plan, but you ignore him, “okay I think I can do this” you say, analysing the situation. You try to crawl backwards, but your hands are shaky and it doesn’t help that you can’t see where you’re going.

Finally giving in, “Okay no I can’t do this, please help,” you plead, looking down at Namjoon.

“Jump! I’ll catch you,” Namjoon suggests once again and you let out a little groan, shaking you’re head. “____! Just jump. Trust me,” Namjoon calls out once more and you look down at his earnest eyes, biting your lip. Shakily, you nod, and then, sucking a deep breath while closing your eyes, you jump.

Eyes clenched shut, you feel the wind rush past your ears and then suddenly you’re in Namjoon’s strong embrace; his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. It would have all been well if it were as simple as Namjoon catching you. However, you’d both forgotten to factor one variable into your calculations and that variable was that Namjoon, for as sweet and dorky as he was, was inherently clumsy. The moment you land in his arms, Namjoon’s foot slips on the mud, and suddenly, the both of you are falling backwards. Namjoon’s grip on your waist tightens as the two of you land, his back taking the brunt of the fall.

Namjoon lets out a small groan and you still at the position you find yourselves in. Namjoon’s large palm is splayed out on your back, his hips between your legs as you straddle him. You stare, wide-eyed at him, Namjoon also freezing once he realises your positioning. Gazing deep into his molten dark chocolate eyes, you get lost in the dark depths of his chocolate orbs. An invisible pull calls towards the two of you, and you slowly near - your faces enclosing - lips almost touching. Then you hear rustling and suddenly everyone congregates around you. Both yours and Namjoon’s heads whip to the side, eyes wide as if you were deer caught in headlights.

Yoongi quickly turns away but you notice the small tugging of his lips as he stares at the trees. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook stare at you in confusion, Rap Mon wagging his tail excitedly as he spots you. Seokjin and Hoseok however, look entirely too pleased with themselves. They’re both grinning widely: as if they’d found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Internally, you scream, knowing that you were never, ever going to live this down. Hoseok and Seokjin were going to tease you for the foreseeable future.

“Daddy? What’s going on?” Jimin asks innocently and you feel your face burn from his seemingly childlike question. Jimin’s words kick both your gears in and you and Namjoon quickly scramble to get into a safer position. Namjoon clears his throat, putting on his passive ‘father’ face but you can still see how red his ears are.

“____ found a ribbon but got stuck in the tree and daddy had to get her out,” Namjoon stammers out, trying to explain the situation.

“Oh yes, that’s definitely what was happening here,” Hoseok teases, both his and Seokjin’s eyes twinkling with mirth. You glare at them both, trying to stop their teasing but they only smile at you with faux innocence. Namjoon quickly stands up, dusting himself off before extending his hand out towards yours. You grab it, allowing him to pull you up as you too begin dusting yourself off.

“Are we all done? Did we get all the ribbons?” you ask in an attempt to change the conversation, and Jungkook lets out a bright grin, sticking out his hand that looks like it contains at least fifteen ribbons.

“We won!” Jungkook calls, swinging his fist around happily.

“Only because you cheated,” Seokjin suddenly calls out and you look taken aback at his sudden outburst. For most of it, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook don’t care. Instead, they’re sitting between themselves sharing their ribbons. However, Hoseok, Seokjin and Yoongi all stand in a circle, both Hoseok and Seokjin accusing of tailing them and stealing their ribbons. You let out a small giggle, at the two little groups, Namjoon shaking his head at them all.

“Oh?” you suddenly say, looking at the sky with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks, Seokjin, Yoongi and Hoseok turning to you both, their heated argument immediately dying.

“I thought I felt a raindrop,” you reply, your lips downturned and eyebrows scrunched up.

“The weather forecast didn’t say it was supposed to rain. We checked,” Yoongi says and you nod before turning back.

“Maybe it’s just me feeling things aha,” you shrug nonchalantly, however, a couple of moments later, you hear the tell-tale pitter-patter of raindrops against the tree canopy as it begins raining.

“Oh sh-“ Yoongi says, catching himself before he swears in front of the children. You watch as Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok quickly shrug off their hoodies, holding them above the boys to protect them.

“Jin-hyung, call the driver. Boys come on, let’s go find somewhere to stand under,” Namjoon calls, ushering the boys towards him.

“____ go with Namjoon and the boys, Hobi, Yoongi and I will grab the stuff,” Seokjin says and you nod, grabbing Rap Mon’s lead from Yoongi as you and Namjoon usher the boys out of the forest and towards where the driver dropped you off.

“It’ll be a while before the car gets here won’t it?” you ask, one hand holding your own jacket over your head as well as Rap Mon’s lead, the other hand holding Jungkook’s hand.

“I don’t think so. The driver said he’d be in the area,” Namjoon replies. By the time the five of you find shelter under a large tree, all of you are completely soaked from the heavy rain. Five minutes later, Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin join you, somehow even wetter than you are.

“The driver said he should be here soon, so hopefully we don’t have to wait too long,” Seokjin says and you all nod.

Ten minutes pass and you begin worrying about standing out in the cold and rain; not for yourself but more for Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook who are still young and more vulnerable to any illnesses from the exposure. Just as you start getting antsy however, the large 7-seater car pulls up. You let out a small sigh of relief before quickly grabbing Jungkook’s hand, Namjoon doing the same for Jimin and Taehyung before ushering them into the car. Yoongi, Seokjin and Hoseok quickly follow you until you’re all crammed into the car, the kids sitting on whichever laps would take them while Rap Mon sits in the back with Yoongi.

Jungkook sits on your lap, his back pressed against your chest, and with as close as he is, you feel the way his little body shivers. Swiftly, and with a small tut, you pull him closer into your body, despite the fact that you’re as soaked as he is. Quickly, you began rubbing your hands up and down his arms, pressing him closer to your chest as you tried to create the much-needed friction to warm him up. Jungkook lets out a small whine, followed by a sniffle, as he cuddles closer into your warmth, his teeth continuing to chatter.

“Seokjin can you turn the heating on please,” you ask and he nods, flicking the button. Instantly, the car is filled with warm air and you let out a little sigh at the feel of the warmth against your chilled skin.

“I’d get comfortable if I were you, it’s a long ride back,” Seokjin calls out and you nod, letting out a small yawn.

You snuggle further into the seat, Jungkook snuggling into you. A sigh on contentment escapes your lips, despite how cold it is. Your clothes are completely saturated, sticking to your skin and your hair is dripping along your flesh, and yet despite that, the warmth from the heating as well as the feel of Namjoon and Hoseok on either side of you has you feeling much more comfortable. Before long, you begin dozing off, your forehead leaning against Namjoon’s shoulder. Feeling the weight on his shoulder, Namjoon turns to look at you, his eyes softening at the way both you and Jungkook look as you nap.

“You alright there Joonie?” Hoseok asks with a teasing smile and Namjoon narrows his eyes.

“Don’t think I don’t know what both you and Seokjin-hyung tried to do today,” Namjoon says, causing them both to snicker.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. We noticed the way you were staring at her,” Seokjin says and Namjoon grumbles.

“I wasn’t staring at her in any particular way,” Namjoon grumbles under his breath, Seokjin rolling his eyes in response.

“Please, you stare at her as if she hung the moon in the sky. And don’t even get us started on how you look at her whenever she’s with your sons,” Seokjin says and at that Namjoon immediately shuts up, pink dusting his cheeks as his ears turn a bright shade of fire truck red.

For the rest of the journey towards your house, Namjoon contemplates the words of his friends. He knows he has some sort of feelings for you, but between raising his children and his prominent music career, he doesn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it. All he knows is that he enjoys any and all time spent with you. There are times when his boys do something and all he wants to do is share it with you, such as when Jimin got his award for being the best at dance and all he wanted was to call you and gush over how proud he was. He loves the way you care for his children and how you’re always available for them. Not to mention, the level of patience you have for children that aren’t even biologically yours is incomprehensible.

Namjoon had long since given up on dating or finding another wife, disillusioned by his first love and consequently first wife. Besides, any dating attempts were already stomped by his career; not to mention, what girl his age would want to be saddled with a twenty-four-year-old who had already had three children. However, his hope had been reignited today by your admission that you loved his children and the more you interact with his children, the more and more he falls for you.

But despite how much he wants it, and how much Seokjin and Hoseok are pushing you onto him, Namjoon knows he cannot make this decision lightly. It’s one thing to introduce you to the boys as a friend, but introducing you as a potential love interest is different. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you break up? He couldn’t take the chance of giving the boys a potential mother figure who would just walk out again. He cannot let that happen. The boys are already so in love and attached with you, especially shy little Jungkook, that Namjoon cannot bear to somehow mess up your relationship in any way that would lead to you walking out on him and consequently them. It would be entirely too devastating.

Namjoon is pulled out of his thought when the car comes to a screeching halt. He jerks slightly, instincts automatically holding Jimin tighter to protect him. He looks around before realising they’re at your apartment complex. Ignoring the little disheartened lurch of his heart as he realised you’d be going home; he instead turns around and adjusts a sleeping Jimin in his hold, before placing his hand on your thigh and slowly shaking you awake. You let out a little whine, Namjoon’s eyes softening at the small action.

“____, it’s time to wake up. We’re at your apartment,” Namjoon says and you slowly blink awake, looking at him blearily. The first thing you spot is Namjoon’s face and immediately convince yourself you’re dreaming and thus letting out a sleepy smile you snuggle closer into him. You breathe in his scent deeply, letting out a little sigh of content as his signature scent of sandalwood and vanilla fills your senses. Namjoon freezes, unsure of how to react. Well, he knows how to react, he wants to wrap his arms around you and let you continue sleeping as he holds you closer. However, he knows he can’t do that.

He doesn’t have to contemplate for longer because soon Seokjin and Hoseok are giggling between themselves at the two of you. As soon as the sound breaks through your sleep fogged mind, you immediately stiffen before breaking away from Namjoon, back rigid as you take in your surroundings. Despair and embarrassment fill you, your heart hammering in your chest and entire face burning as you finally recognise that you’re not dreaming. You quickly stammer, unsure of what to say, and as Hoseok and Seokjin’s giggles fill your ears, you find yourself praying to any god out there to just smite you with lightning.

“We’re at your apartment,” Namjoon says, smiling reassuringly at you and you simply nod, unable to form words. You quickly, but gently, place a still snoozing Jungkook down on the seat before climbing over Hoseok and exiting. The driver opens the back door, Rap Mon jumping out as you grab his lead and your bag.

“Um thank you for inviting me today, I had fun,” you stutter out, face still heated from your actions.

“It was definitely fun having you ____!” Hoseok replies and you choose to ignore the teasing lilt to his voice.

“Text me when you get home safe,” Namjoon calls and you nod curtly, still trying to get over your own embarrassment. Namjoon smiles at you one final time before the driver drives away. You watch the car as it disappears, waving the entire time. Finally, when it’s out of sight, you use the hand you were waving with to smack yourself on the forehead.

“I cannot believe I did that. I should not have done that,” you say to Rap Mon, however, your pup simply cocks his head to the side, “and now here I am speaking to my dog in public like a crazy person” you groan out, realising that people are looking at you weirdly. You grab Rap Mon’s leash and lead him into your building, the scene from the car replaying in your head over and over, Hoseok and Seokjin’s giggles and Hoseok’s teasing voice filling your head.

They really aren’t going to let you forget.

A/N: Hiya! Just few points, real Rap Mon is an american eskimo dog i believe, but I just wanted to make intro her rap mon a samoyed. also can i just say i LOVE seokjin and hoseok’s characterisation in this story fkw

⇥ Masterlist | Chapter 5

[youarejesting]

BTS365 Prompts.Week 35

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist] [Tag yourself here]

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester. Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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       Aug 27th - 2nd Sep

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Kim Seokjin - Dog 

Kim seokjin was young and a little strange, his parents wished he could be like the other kids in the street and run a muck but he just didn’t. 

“Perhaps we get a dog?” He heard his father talking, “something that will bring him out of his shell”

“That might be good, we can go tomorrow as a family to the pet shop and pick one together”

And they did just that, driving to the pet shop and holding his mother's hand as they crossed the road into the super store. 

“You get to pick, okay my genie” his mother always called him that and it always made him feel special to have a nickname. 

While they walked around the store heading towards the back for the kittens and puppy enclosure his mother cooed. But his attention was taken by three tiny creatures so small. 

His parents were still walking away as he heard a chuckle, “they are cute aren’t they, would you like to hold one?”

Time passed and he sat on a mat in a little room and played with the three sugar gliders. “Jin where were you, we were worried sick?”

“Mum I want to pick these three” he grinned, so boyishly it took his parents by surprise. This is what they wanted their son to bloom. 

Min Yoongi - The one who wasn’t

You were in a car accident, your car hit him and you were both put into medically induced comas to stabilize. You don’t remember any of that all you remember is waking up beside him in a field the two of you spent your days and night talking and building fires to stay warm. 

You found as time passed the two of you had no hope of being found. Were you abandoned? Him by his band members, and you by your family. The two of you decided not to dwell on those thoughts and just survive in the present. Taking the time to build a house Under a big bright tree that glowed at night and if you pressed your ear to the trunk you could hear strange sounds. 

The two of you created a sustainable life. One year, two years, and then three, you were both still alone together in the forest by the sea. You both traveled as far as you could but felt yourselves growing weak so you went back to the home you had made under the tree feeling rejuvenated once more. Until one day the tree opened and you both looked inside you saw a warm light and Yoongi saw cold darkness.

He turned to you and kissed you with everything he had and the two of you stepped through.

Yoongi woke in the hospital bed in the Coma ward and he heard beeping when he looked over he saw you, just how he remembered but he fell unconscious for what felt like a second, and when he woke up once more he saw the bed across from him was empty.

“Yoongi we thought you would never wake up,” Namjoon called.

“We thought you would be content sleeping forever.” Seokjin laughed.

Jung Hoseok - bow tie

Hoseok, a street dancer, had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and was given community service in none other than a ballet school. It was as if his worst nightmares had come true, there should never be rules when it comes to dancing if it felt right then move to the beat. 

Here he was cleaning the floors and fetching water bottles and towels, he had to admit though whilst delivering fresh towels to the class he ducked his head in apology as the door slammed behind him. By the dancer didn’t falter he moved like he was floating and Hoseok wanted nothing more than to move to the music and learn the moves. 

When the song ended the young man took a towel and thanked him humbly before sitting down. “Do you see that class is a fine example of what real dancing is?” Hoseok scoffed audibly and bit his lip he didn’t mean to “something wrong mister Jung?”

“Your definition of dancing is different from mine, anyone can leap and twirl ma’am but what is it if it doesn’t move you, why structure a dance so strongly. Give the guy some freedom and he will make something greater you have him trapped in the steps” 

Hoseok thought for a moment before standing on the tops of his sneakers “what was it a point, tap, lift, a turn slide leap wow but the hands are so dry how much more could you give with a little more added in”

He did it again adding more footwork, more passion, expression and more arms he had strength in his legs he had flexibility he just used it differently. 

Kim Namjoon - corset @adorablepumpkinsblog

You were wearing your finest dress to the ball, but of course it was a little too tight. You had been lazy reading in the library instead of doing your chores and you even snuck a few biscuits for your tea. Mother would be ashamed. 

It would be bearable a few hours at most and then you could return home. Your mother and father talking with the parents of potential suitors. 

They had turned away for a brief moment letting you out of their sights but it was all you needed to make haste out of the room and awkward dances that ensued. You made it to the green house and let out a sigh of relief. 

You smiled this place was beautiful, taking a watering can and walking around leisurely watering the flowers, the corset was digging into your ribs making them cave into your chest crushing your lung. Humming in an effort to slow your breathing and push through the pain you continued watering the flowers. 

“What are you doing?” A voice said and you gasped, turning to face him, Kim Namjoon the not so eligible bachelor on every girl's mind including yours. 

“I am watering the plants, and escaping the dances, and you?”

“Alas, I came to water my plants and of course boycott the festivities if you will”

“If anyone asks we were merely mingling and you offered to show your plants” you couldn’t even send a coy smile as the pain marred your expression. 

“Ah this corset!” You gasped, dropping the watering can on the ground the contents splashing the bottom of your dress. Your breathing was getting worse and you were clutching for the strings at the back of your dress he seemed to realise what you were doing and assisted you immediately. 

Your gasp was audible and filled with a sense of relief, “I um broke the back of your dress…” his voice was nervous and apologetic but he removed his jacket and went to place it around your shoulders to cover you like a gentleman but he stood in the watering can slipped and fell against you almost squishing you and the carnations. 

Park Jimin - Accordion

Jimin saw an old man on the corner playing an accordion with a small tin in front of him, the man's fingers shook and he looked so cold. He saw you walk over and take off your coat and place it over his shoulders talking softly. 

Jimin had just bought a hot soup he wanted to eat but carried it over to the man and smiled. 

“You look a little cold grandpa, where are your mittens and scarf”

“Ah you two are so sweet,” the man breathed, taking the hot bowl of soup. The young girl hummed putting on the accordion. 

“I played on a tiny kids accordion as a kid let me see if I remember” she played a rendition of London bridge badly making the old man laugh. 

Kim Taehyung - Frankenstein

Bang Sihyuk moves about the room before he flicked the switch, he was making the perfect son, hand picked features all created by hand. He was perfect and like a skilled surgeon there were little to no scars on his body, and only two visible on his face he had one small scar around his left and from the corner of his nose to the corner of his lip. 

Bang PD was furious with the eyes, he had made them slightly different he contemplated starting again to make him more symmetrical. But he had a time schedule and decided against it, that was the past. Today he made history and the perfect son he never had. 

He woke and took a few breaths and Bang talked to him the whole time, helping him move and gain his strength.

Tae loved animals and jazz music and painting, he would paint scenes he wished he could see but only heard through story. He dreamed one day to leave the basement. 

Jeon Jungkook - Outside

Jungkook had heard stories about them, everyone had different names for them and for him, he called them the ‘Outsides’. Creatures that as the sunset crawled from their holes in the ground and roamed the earth. The rule was to always shut and lock your houses and to never step outside before sunrise or the outsides would take you. 

They were pale creatures with long limbs and nimble fingers; they stood as tall as a two story house and as thin as a lamp post, their long thin legs parted taking car length strides. 

If they had facial features jungkook wouldn’t know their faces were too bright to see their glow was like the aura of the moon. Some called them moon spirits for this very reason. If anyone saw their face they wouldn’t live to tell the tail. 

If Jungkook had seen their face he had repressed it, a mistake when he was younger that had almost cost him his life. 

He was just going to retrieve his toy he left in his tree house, and when he got there the ‘Outsides’ had started their prowl. 

He saw the light pass by the tree's window and froze, it hadn’t seen him but the next thing he knew there was a hand in the window long and thin and he ducked past the long fingers and slid down the ladder and sprinted to the house. They were closing in, they moved so slow but they stepped so wide. 

He swept under a set of legs and made it safely back into the house.

At least that’s what he remembered no more no less, there were legends if you are seen by them or if you look them in the eyes things could happen but nothing ever did. 

All he knew was as the years moved on and he grew not only older but taller and more handsome, his friends began to make fun of him for walking too slow for their liking so he tried to take bigger strides. 

[peonybane]

Bangtan Romances Anonymous: Part I – Suga

PART I (Sparks of Attraction): Make My Heart Pound Like Your Sound System

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Suga) x Reader

Word Count: 3.0 k

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Crack?

Summary: Seven men. Seven different professions within BigHIT. Seven paths. Which romance will you choose?

a/n: Hello everyone and welcome to the second installation of Bangtan Romances Anonymous! Once again, I’m sorry for not having Chapter 13 of Agape and Pragma ready, but hopefully, this will be satisfactory enough for this week!

Please note, all stories interlace with each other so if the context doesn’t necessarily make sense, will once each part is published in its entirety.

> WOULD YOU LIKE TO START OVER?

> YES: Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jeongguk

> NO: Continue below

None are versatile as the Hydrangea. Thriving in a soil of different levels of acidity, their color changes… and so do their meaning. When they bloom a delicate blue, this cool color is two sided, conveying a sense of frigidity but also apology. As the color warms to a gentle purple, its meaning also warms to a desire to understand or to be understood. Even further as the color dissipates so a sweet pink, it conveys how the heart fills with emotion. It is a flower whose story changes as its relationship with the world changes.

“Oi! Out of all the places for you to sleep, why did it have to be here?”

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes at the sound of her voice. He looked up from where he was sleeping (a stack of boxes, the only flat space on which to lay down during the filming), gazing at up at the angry face of the sound specialist.

“Well, don’t stack them in such a way that’s tempting for anyone to sleep on.”

He sat up, keeping himself from cussing in her general direction. He knew that whatever words he threw at her, she’d throw them right back in his face— this was not his first rodeo with her. She sighed in frustration, rubbing her temples. “Min-ssi, how many times have I told you that they need to be stacked that way so I can lift them by myself without shifting the equipment around.”

She pushed him out off the one box she needed to open, opening it to grab the piece of equipment. Even though she was clearly miffed with him, she still bowed to him politely before taking the equipment with her to start setting up.

As much as Yoongi wanted to go back to sleep, the late night dance practice for this shooting left him with little rest, he opted instead of laying down to sit on the boxes. On one level, he still wanted to mess with the specialist, but also didn’t want to make her too mad— not after the last time she pushed him off the boxes and onto the floor without warning.

Yoongi watched her work as she set up the sound system. Normally, it would be an simple thing to set up a few speakers so they could hear the song while filming the music video, but this time, the director wanted a special set up. Claiming that this part of the museum had special acoustic qualities and he wanted to use that raw sound in the music video. So, here she was setting up the speakers. Soon, she’d be testing the sound to make sure that the acoustics were right before setting up the audio recording equipment. Yoongi didn’t understand how she could do so much of this by herself, especially considering the useless assistant she had, who always seemed to disappear during set up.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Namjoon sat down next to him, smirking to himself. “I see you her pissed off, again.”

Yoongi feigned ignorance. “Who?”

He knew exactly who Namjoon was talking about, he knew the names and faces of all the staff, including the interns, even if he’d never admit it. Namjoon chuckled. He said her name quizzically. “The sound specialist you seem to be intent up pissing off every time she comes to help out.”

“Oh. Is that her name? I didn’t know that.”

Namjoon shook his head before the make up artists came to corner them. “You know, you could be a little nicer. Especially after the choice words I heard come out of her mouth about you as she left to put up the equipment.”

Yoongi shrugged. “She can say what she wants. She rubs me the wrong way.”

Once again, Namjoon laughed, making the makeup artist give him a hard look. “Does she now? Never mind the fact that you’re the one who started this spat.”

Yoongi knew exactly what Namjoon was talking about. The first time they met the new sound specialist, the first words out of Yoongi’s mouth were, “Oh, so we’re hiring bats now.”

Needless to say that didn’t go over too well with her. He thought he was complimenting her. 

“Try to be a little nicer to her on this project. I know she’s been working overtime trying to make sure that the equipment would be ready for this project.”

Yoongi sighed, “Fine.”

Namjoon nodded, once again much to the displeasure of the makeup artist. 

A few minutes later she came running back over, looking royally frazzled. Namjoon saw her coming, getting off the box he was sitting on. Yoongi however was not as quick, having his eyes closed as the makeup artist worked on the touch ups of his eye makeup. 

“Min-ssi!”

His name startled him. Immediately, jumping off the box before she could shove him off it again. Frazzled, she open the box and started rummaging through it. A moment later, she started spewing a stream of curses under her breath. She turned to the makeup artist, grabbing her jacket from atop of one of the boxes, putting it on. “Tell the PD I need to go back to the office. I’m missing a vital piece of equipment. Damn it!”

She grabbed her bag and ran out to her car. Starting the one hour journey one way to get the equipment. 

Yoongi just looked between Namjoon and the makeup artist, having never seen her so mad before. Namjoon volunteered to go tell the PD in place of the makeup artist knowing that he’d be a special kind of pissed. He had plans for that scene that needed the special equipment to have the light coming in from the windows at a certain angle. 

As Namjoon went off to speak with the PD, Yoongi did the math in his head. They wouldn’t be able to film that one part until almost 2 hours after they were supposed to film that scene. Off in the distance, Yoongi could hear the PD cuss.

~^~^~^~

She managed to come back sooner than anticipated. She even managed to set up much quicker than was initially thought, putting them behind schedule by only an hour rather than two. In fact, the lighting came out better than what the PD thought, but still, he was mad. 

As soon as they broke for dinner, the PD pulled her aside to an adjacent room. Concerned, though he’ll never opening admit it, Yoongi decided to take his dinner nearby there.

From the other side of the door, Yoongi could hear the PD shout, “This is unacceptable! You’re accredited with being one of the best in your field. And yet you made such a rookie mistake as to forget a vital piece of equipment. You’ve put us behind schedule. We only have this location for one day! And you nearly ruined it! Tomorrow, I speaking with Hitman about—“

At that point, Yoongi had enough. He knocked on the door interrupting. He looked between the pair of them, his heart faltered. The PD’s face was red, finally getting that angry energy out. But more than that, the normally pissed, but collected face of (Y/N) looked pale, on the verge of tears as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Yoongi clenched his jaw, putting himself to the task of why he interrupted. 

“PD-nim, with all due respect, you shouldn’t be yelling at her. If you really want to yell at anyone, yell at her assistant or even HR. She does all of the specialized sound equipment practically by herself. Her assistant hardly assists except for take down. And if I remember correctly, packing the equipment is the assistant’s job. With how much work you’ve been having her do to make sure the sound system was programmed right for this scene, it’s amazing to me that you think she’d have time to scratch her own nose, let alone make sure that the equipment is packed away properly.”

The PD’s jaw went slack. Yoongi continued. “Be mad at the assistant. Be mad at the people who hired them. Don’t take it out on her.” Yoongi walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “If anything, you should be thanking her. She still got it all done AND the delay gave us a better lighting for the shoot.”

Before either she or the PD could say anything, Yoongi grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the room. They walked a bit aways before he finally stopped. He hadn’t realized it, but he had practically dragged her with him. So when he stopped, she softly bounced off his back. Turning around, his heart did a little pitter patter as she gazed up at him with big eyes, her lips slightly parted, like she didn’t recognize him. But there was something… soft in those eyes. It wasn’t the usual fire that he had grown used to, after the many times she’d tossed him form his sleeping spot. He wasn’t sure what it was, but a part of him liked it a lot more than the usual fire there.

He let go of her hand and suddenly he felt shy. Looking down, he flashed her a small gummy smile and asked, “You alright?”

It took her a moment to respond, but it wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “Who the fuck are you and what have you done to the grumpy rapper I know and tolerate? I’ve never heard you say so much unless you’re rapping.”

Tolerate, huh? Better than being hated, he supposed. “What can I say? You piss me off, but you didn’t deserve that. Come on. We both need to eat before shooting resumes.”

He turned, heading back to where he left his food. She hesitantly followed behind, not quite as sharp as before with her retorts. When he realized she was dragging behind, he turned and grabbed her hand again, gently tugging her towards where the food was set up. Once there, he let go of her hand, feeling suddenly shy when he accidentally made eye contact with Namjoon as he smirked, peering over the rim of his coffee. 

Clearing his throat, he grabbed her a plate, handing it to her. She took it was a small ‘thank you’ and began putting food on it. He followed her a bit of a distance away, though still kinda shadowing her. She exchanged greetings with one of the makeup artists, Yoongi was pretty sure it was the one that Jin had been working up the courage to ask to cook with him for the staff one of these days. He wondered to himself if his hyung had done it yet.

As soon as she finished loading up her plate, she glanced around for a moment, looking for a place to sit. Before she could make her way over to a free seat, Yoongi was at her elbow and casual said, “I feel like some fresh air, come on.”

He gently pulled her with him, leading her out to the courtyard of the museum. He mentally took note to thank the coordinator for having the whole museum booked off for this shooting. He spotted a bench. “Ah, over here.”

They walked over to the bench were he took her plate from her so she could sit down. Once she was seated, he handed her back her plate and seated himself beside her. They both sat there, neither touching their food.

God, it was quiet. And so… so… very awkward. He took a bite of the roll. “Mmmmm. Sure glad Jin insisted that we continue using this company during shoot.”

“Mmhmm.”

She nodded, beginning to eat as well. The tension between them slowly dissipated as they ate. It was quiet, but now pleasantly so as the wind rustled the trees and the sound of birds singing. Across from where they sat, there were three pots, full of hydrangeas. One held the blue variety, the middle one held purple ones, and the last one held pink.

Finishing his food, Yoongi glanced over at his dinner partner. She had barely picked at her food, staring at the flowers instead. She broke the silence first. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi coughed a little, not expecting her to say that. “What are you apologizing for?”

She sighed, leaning back. She stared up at the swaying leaves above them. “Min-ssi, I’m sorry for… being a bitch.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Then I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Fair.” She sat up straight, running her hand through her hair. She then looked at him from the side. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why did you come to my defense? You could’ve just left me there. I deserved to be yelled. After all, I was the one who messed up! I—“

“God, you’re loud.”

She shut her mouth. She bit her lip and went to stand up. Immediately, he pulled her back down. “Hey! I’m sorry. I’m just at odds with you. I don’t get how you always manage to rile me up.”

Under her breath, she said, “The same could be said for you.”

“And honestly? I don’t know entirely why I did it. As much as you piss me off, I also know that you’re the best in the industry. You’re always putting more work into it than you need to. Always going above and beyond the requirements of your job. You’re going to have an occasional bad day. You shouldn’t be punished for that.”

For a moment, a silence hung between them. “You know, you’re a good guy, Min-ssi.”

“Now I got a question for you. Why do you call me, ‘Min-ssi?’ Sounds so stuffy and formal. Every one else just calls me ‘Suga.’”

She chuckled, smiling for the first time at him. “It’s a respect thing. Despite maybe not liking you personally, but as a professional and as an artist, I deeply respect you. Besides, we’re not particularly close, so why call you anything else.”

She looked away, nibbling a little on her food. It was now his turn to look at her wide eyed. While he was scooping his jaw off the floor, she continued, “Besides, you’re the only one who doesn’t try to ‘improve’ my equipment set up. Now that is something I can get behind.”

Just as he was about say something, the PD yelled for filming to resume. She took his plate from him and nodded towards the museum. “Go on. They need you. I’ll dispose of these as thanks.”

She gave him a sweet, small smile, and once again, his heart gave a little pitter patter. He wasn’t sure when he stood up, but he brought back to reality when he heard Taehyung yell from the doorway, “Hyung! Come on! The makeup artist is looking for you.”

“On my way.”

He bade her a small good bye before lazily jogging towards Taehyung. The moment the door swung behind him, Taehyung made his signature pervert face and teased, “Hyung, were you being a bad influence on the sound specialist? Ooooooh~”

Yoongi smacked the back of his head, coving up the slight blush that creeped up to his cheeks from the teasing. “Come on, you mop head. We need to finish filming.”

~^~^~^~

It had been a very long day, but the filming was finally done. As soon as he had changed out of his work clothes and into his more comfortable casual wear and his face cleaned up make up, he went looking for her.

She was relatively easy to find, currently taking down the sound equipment. Instead of going straight to her, he sat on the boxes, just like he had that morning.

A small gummy smile found its way to his mouth as she walked towards him, shaking her head as she carried the equipment, trying desperately to hide her smile. “I thought take down was too peaceful, Min-ssi.”

He chuckled, jumping off the box to help her load the equipment. “Where’s the useless assistant? Thought they helped with the take down.”

“I spoke with the PD and Hitman on the phone. I fired them the moment they came on set. So, I’m officially on my own, for now.”

She finished putting the equipment in its styrofoam casing. Standing up straight, she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “If that’s the case, I’d be happy to help you out.”

Looking over at him, she smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you’ve done more than enough for me today, Min-ssi. I think it should be the other way around.”

He followed her as she went to pick up more equipment. “Hey, don’t write me off. I’m trying to score points with you.”

She laughed. Sarcastically, she retorted, “And do pray tell, what are you trying to score points with me for?”

He helped her break down the last of the equipment, walking it back with her. “I don’t like the sound of Min-ssi. I figured I’d try to develop a close enough relationship to get you to call me something else.”

They finished packing up the equipment. As she made sure the boxes were secured, she asked, “Come on, now. Don’t leave me hanging like that.”

As she stood up, wiping her hands on her work pants, Yoongi smirked. He leaned close to her, crossing his arms over his chest. Mimicking her voice, he said, “Yoongi-oppa! Help me lift this box! It’s too big for a little girl like me!”

She smacked his shoulder, trying desperately not to laugh. “First off, I don’t sound like that. Secondly, you have a long journey if you think I will EVER call you ‘oppa’, Min-ssi!”

Lifting the nearest box, she shoved past him, still laughing to herself as she left to load up her car. Yoongi laughed, watching her walk away. Too quiet for her to hear, he muttered, “Just wait and see.”

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

> WOULD YOU LIKE TO START OVER?

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> NO: Next (PART II TBP) —>

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[hungline]

to have and to hold

pairing: minjoon   genre: angst, fluff, greek mythology au, fix-it of sorts, persephone!namjoon, hades!jimin rated pg15  warnings: trans male character, mentioned violence, introspection, coming out   words: 4644 

summary: Namjoon falls and falls and falls, but Jimin is there to help him get back on his feet and find the truth within himself. 

“My Lord Hades, there has been a breach.”

Jimin looks up to find Charon standing before his desk. His hood is pulled over his face, but Jimin can still see the mole under his mouth very clearly.

“Who is it?”

As King of the Underworld, Jimin was surprised to find that many people wanted to break through his defenses and sneak into the Underworld before it was their time. Jimin was certain that when he had divided up the areas of power with his brothers, he had gotten the short end of the stick, but the intruders made him feel otherwise.

There are tales known far and wide about his coldness, about his blank calm that startles all, about the familiarity he has always felt with the dead. When he came into his power, he never understood half of the things he could do, but there was the dead to wrangle under control and even in Death order is needed. Jimin’s work is never done.

He may not have been prepared for intruders before, but now he knows what to do and how to handle these kinds of events.

“A man who appears to look like a woman at first glance, my Lord.” Charon hesitates then, his bottom lip caught between his large, jutting teeth. “He fell right onto the river’s banks, my Lord.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow. “Which one?”

Charon bows his head as he murmurs, “The Styx, my Lord Hades.”

Jimin sighs and stands, pushing piles of paperwork off to the side as he fixes his own black robe around him and holds a hand out for Charon to lead the way. “Take me to him, Jeongguk.”

Charon flinches at the sound of his True Name but takes Jimin’s hand and pulls him along steadily. They walk down the grand and dark hallways of Jimin’s palace in the center of the Underworld and pause on the steps once they have made it past the grand doors. Charon presses his other hand to Jimin’s forearm and twists them roughly in a circle, shadow traveling them away to Charon’s usual post by the edge of the River Styx.

The boat is still there, tied to the docks that stand just a few millimeters away from the water’s edge and Charon immediately flocks to it, taking the drachmas that a new Soul offers him as he approaches. Jimin waits until Charon has set off across the water before he exhales slowly and raises his arms up at his sides. There is a tugging sensation coming from his right and he follows after it, exhaling deeply again when he happens upon the intruder that Charon summoned him for.

He looks like a woman — he looks like a girl, really — but Jimin can see his Soul and it is that of a man’s. He is asleep, head cushioned by a row of flowers that Jimin has never seen before in his life and at that moment he knows exactly who this intruder is.

This is the one the Fates told him about when he crafted their chambers here in the Underworld. The one who he would wed, the one who would bring him the most happiness and the most pain.

This is Hades’ husband.

They used to call her Kore, back when she still amused the dresses and skirts her mother would dress her in during the spring.

A daughter of Zeus, they called her. He has many of those and she can name them all.

Back when she was Kore, she fell onto the land with grace and a strength that surprised even her. Flowers bloomed for her as she walked past and all the different creatures of nature came to her when she was near. She kept to the forests and the rivers, making friends with all the nymphs and naiads she could before her mother allowed her to walk upon the eternal springtime fields.

It felt special to them both that day, but when she realized what her name meant, she went back to the forests and the rivers and her nature friends.

She wasn’t “The Girl” and could not bear to be called Kore any longer.

Soon she suspected she wasn’t much of a girl at all.

Demeter wanted her to wed, wanted her to be a good wife to whoever she chose to be her husband. She played along with it, only so that she could prolong the inevitable faster.

Hermes and Apollo came to court her, but Apollo was insincere and she wanted nothing that the bright god was willing to offer her. Hermes was better, he was honest — or as honest as the god of tricksters could be — but she did not want to wed him either.

If she was going to be honest, then she would have to say that she did not want to be anyone’s wife, let alone a trophy.

But she also knew that her mother could tell she did not want a marriage. Demeter stopped insisting her to choose a husband and left her to her own devices soon afterward. She took to the forests again while her mother brought the harvest in and familiarized herself once more with the nature surrounding her.

She stopped entertaining the two gods seeking her hand after that.

The flower is unlike any she has ever seen before.

She knows that it is new, she knows who it used to be, but at that moment, she doesn’t care much about its origins.

All she knows is that it is beautiful and when she leans on the ground to try and catch a whiff of the flower’s scent, the earth opens up beneath her and swallows her up.

She screams as she falls, but when her voice is rung raw and she is still falling, she decides to sleep and welcome Death with open arms.

At least she won’t have to wed anybody in death.

She closes her eyes and falls, arms spread wide to greet the darkness surrounding her.

Then light flickers across the back of her eyelids and she opens them to see the Underworld spreading out beneath her. The ground is coming up fast and she isn’t sure if she has any power here to help slow her descent, but she already made her choice and as she strikes the ground with a sound like thunder, everything goes blissfully back to black once more.

When she wakes, there is a man at her bedside, a man she recognizes instantly. The Lost Souls around him would be hard to misplace after all.

“Lord Hades,” she croaks out.

“How are you feeling?” Hades asks her with the barest hint of concern in his voice.

It is enough to take her by surprise until she remembers that no one tells tales of Hades’ cruelty. “I’m not sure. I can’t move my limbs, my Lord.”

Hades a waves a hand at her in a nervous manner before saying, “Just Hades is fine. What should I call you?”

She is surprised once more, but there is already a name on the tip of her tongue that she almost mumbles out until she realizes that it is not a name the God of the Underworld should have. So she tries to twist her fingers and sighs under her breath when that wields no results.

“They called me Kore,” she says then, biting her lip before she presses on. “But you may call me Persephone.”

“Persephone,” he says, but there is a glint in his eyes that tells her he’s merely amusing her. As if he somehow knows that wasn’t what she meant to say. “The fall you took depleted you of your power. If you were mortal, you would already be in line for Judgment, but luckily you are not and so we must wait until your power returns to you. You will have to remain here until you are healed and then we can discuss the matter of getting you back home.”

Persephone only nods, not knowing what else to say. Hades brushes his knuckles down her cheek and nods in return before he stands, his black robes billowing out around him as he turns. He has made it to the door already, hand on the wood to step out when she raises her head and stares at his neck, willing herself to speak one last time before he leaves.

“Thank you, Hades.”

She lays back on the bed and closes her eyes, missing the way Hades’ neck flushes as he steps out without another backward glance.

Persephone is a strange name for a man, but Jimin calls him by it anyway. If it is his wish, then so be it. Jimin is not one to tell others how to figure things out for themselves anyway. He merely rules over the dead and tries to keep the order intact.

He heals slowly, so slowly that Jimin worries Persephone might be slowly dying after all. He almost caves and calls Hermes to their aid, but on the third day, Persephone is able to wiggle his toes and move his wrists. That is enough to placate Jimin at the moment.

Jimin works about as often as he usually does and sends many of his servants to wait on Persephone hand and foot while he recovers. Charon visits only when there are no New Souls to ferry across the Styx and takes half of the paperwork from him.

Charon has another name. The mortals have taken to calling him Thanatos and Jimin does not understand why exactly because the actual Thanatos is lazy and never helps Jimin, but if someone else is going to be the stand-in for the god of Death, all that really means is that Jimin doesn’t have to be instead. Being god of the Underworld is tiring enough as is.

Jimin knows Charon’s True Name, of course, but that is more because he is in Jimin’s debt and Jimin knowing his True Name helped to balance it out. True Names are not meant to be given freely. Names have power and that power is almost always used against you if you happen to give your True Name away.

Persephone is a quiet guest and Jimin knows that he is the daughter Demeter is looking all over for, but he also knows that Persephone is no one’s daughter because he is Demeter’s son and Demeter does not get to have him back until they both realize this.

Jimin isn’t going to keep him prisoner here either though. If Persephone wishes to go as soon as he has healed, then so be it. He may be Jimin’s future husband like the three Fates told him so, but he will not create an abusive kind of marriage with him either. They are Fated to be and one way or the other, they will be happy in the end.

It is what he tells himself later that night when he worries that Persephone will be disgusted by him no matter what he does. That is what always happens to Jimin.

The feeling in her limbs returns to her slowly.

On the second day she spends in the Underworld, she panics when she still can’t move her fingers or toes. This is how I go, she thinks, This is how it ends for me. Hades visits her when the flames have gone down low in her room and she is afraid for one paralyzing moment because her hand in marriage was sought out after two Olympians since she is virgin, but Hades only sits at her bedside again and wipes her face clean with a wet rag. He pushes her hair out of her face and tells her about his day after asking how she feels. She listens to him speak, enjoying the way his voice drops in pitch with each passing moment and soon enough she is asleep.

She wakes up to an empty room and tries to move her hands and feet again, crying out in joy when her toes wiggle and her whole hand twitches. Hades visits her during the day with the barest hint of a smile on his face when she tells him of her progress. He wipes her face clean again and lets his knuckles brush across her cheek as he did on the first day, a tiny smile now threatening to spill over his face when she thanks him and leans willingly into his touch. He leaves soon after that and a servant enters the room next, keeping her company as she tests out the rest of her body.

The next day she can move her feet and can bend her elbows, but she feels cold now, shivering non-stop. Hades frowns at her when he visits her again that night and brings her an extra blanket and another lantern, making sure that the flames burn bright the entire night. She feels warm now with him here and follows his movements with her eyes, a feeling she can’t describe settling into her gut.

It becomes routine over the next couple days for her to find another part of her body mobile and the cold bite to Hades’ aura dimming with each visit that he pays her. She greets him with a smile and leans into the hand he presses to her face now.

By the ninth day, she can move enough to sit up in bed and tries to stand, regretting it instantly. Hades catches her as she falls and presses her back into the bed, wrapping the sheets around her to keep her warm.

She thanks him and smiles, not missing the way he looks at her lips after returning a hesitant smile of his own.

On the tenth day, Hades brings word from Hermes about her mother and the unbearable grief she has been enduring ever since her disappearance. But she is still too weak to leave and Hades is kind to her. More than she probably deserves when she feels like she wants to crawl right out of her skin with each passing day. He only keeps giving her those tentative grins and her heart warms at the way his eyes start to curve to smile along with him.

There is a reason no one tells tales of Hades’ cruelty.

Jimin can understand the way Demeter feels, but her accusation of him purposely kidnapping Persephone is a step too far.

Persephone fell into his domain and he is nursing him back to health, all so that Persephone can return home. Jimin did nothing to bring the poor boy into the Underworld.

He asks Persephone how he fell when he takes his first steps again. Jimin does not know what any of it means, but he asks Persephone to describe the flower, pausing again when he explains that the flower was new. The flower used to be a man called Narcissus who fell in love with himself and died because he would not stop staring at his reflection. Jimin winces then, knowing full well who did this.

He and his little brother will be having words… After he handles Demeter.

Jimin leaves Charon and Styx in charge while he visits the upper world and finds Demeter. She attacks first, but he is prepared for this and rolls away from her attacks, dodging all of them. Demeter does not believe a word he says, but she believes him about Zeus. No one would put anything past him.

He wears out soon though, not used to combat or being away from his home for so long. The dead need to be attended to, he does not have any time to waste. So he conjures a few skeletons and lets them restrain Demeter before he kneels in front of her and bows his head.

“I had nothing to do with this, but do not doubt that I will take care of your son until he is strong enough to come home to you,” Jimin says as she quiets.

Demeter’s eyes are glowing a faint brown and he finds that he cannot look away no matter how disturbing the sight of her eyes is. Her brow crumples into a frown, tears in her eyes as the glow slowly recedes.

“M-My son?” She stutters out, sobs wracking her chest.

Jimin nods, knowing full well that Demeter did not know about her daughter not being a daughter at all and being her son instead. “I don’t think he realizes it either yet, but he is a man, Demeter. There is no doubt about that.”

Demeter continues to cry, sagging into the skeletons as they hold her up. “I should have known. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to wed. He just did not want to be anybody’s wife. And — And I told him to be a good wife! To be a good girl and do as he was told! I am a horrible mother!”

“He doesn’t even know yet. Maybe he will realize it himself soon, but you should treat him like a girl until he asks you not to. Otherwise, he will recede back into the timid girl he pretended to be and neither of us wants that,” Jimin says calmly, dismissing the skeletons with a wave of his hand and catching Demeter in his arms when she falls.

She clings to him, sobbing enough to create a spring if she were so inclined, but Jimin holds her anyway. “When he is healthy, I will bring him back to you. I promise.”

Demeter shakes her head, taking deep breaths before she speaks lowly. “No. I want him to be happy with who he is the next time I see him, Hades. I want him to be happy. Can you make sure of that?”

“I can certainly try,” Jimin responds, smiling one of those tiny grins he usually reserves for Persephone when Demeter looks up to meet his gaze again.

“Then all will be well,” Demeter says, rubbing at her eyes as she pulls away and stands up to her full height, fury settling into her features. “I’m going to make Zeus pay.”

Jimin laughs, the sound tinkling in the air around them and Demeter joins soon after.

On the fourteenth day of her stay, she can walk to the gardens and back to her room without aid. Hades watches her from the corner of his eye every time they cross paths and she smiles at him, wishing she had enough of her powers back to make flowers bloom and cause Hades to smile even more.

He still visits her as usual and now cups her face in both his hands as he smiles down at her, a soft gleam in his eyes that cements something into her.

On the twentieth day, Hades presents her with trousers, a tunic, and a burgundy set of robes that look a lot like his. She puts them on and studies herself in the polished silver Hades set against one of the walls of her bedroom so she can look at herself.

If she cut her hair short, she would look like a man — a very handsome man, mind you — and suddenly she’s sobbing into a pillow, not understanding how her gangly limbs and oval face look right on her now that she isn’t in skirts and dresses. A servant comes in and wipes her face clean when she is done crying, helping her to her feet as they walk to the gardens. She passes Hades on her way and cannot help the way her fingertips tingle with power when Hades pauses mid-stride to stare at her.

She smiles to herself and continues to walk, exhaling heavily when they step out into the garden and she is surrounded by bioluminescent stones and gems and artificial flowers. She thinks she could make real flowers bloom here if she had even a fraction of her original powers back.

But on the thirty-fifth day when she has not felt even a tingling of her usual power return to her, she turns to Hades for help again. He frowns and suggests taking a dip in the Styx to be reborn into something more, but refers to it as their last possible solution because not even gods can swim in the Styx without there being dire consequences. They take to the books and Charon joins them soon after, his hood off to reveal a young man with front teeth that jut out past his lips and a hooked nose that complements his wide eyes well.

She ogles him for a few minutes before Hades clears his throat and she flushes, chagrined for being caught staring. She smiles at Hades beside her and goes back to reading, sighing in relief when Hades presses a hand to the middle of her back as he continues to read as well.

By the fiftieth day, they are no closer to a solution than they were before. Hermes visits on the sixty-fourth day and pours over their scrolls and tomes before sighing and announcing a dip in the Styx will be the only way to fix things. Hades growls at him until he leaves, attacking the research with vigor while she and Charon quietly take over his duties as God of the Underworld. Hades does not seem to notice he is shirking his responsibilities until the seventy-seventh day has passed and he collapses in her lap, pressing his face into her throat and falls asleep.

Charon laughs at him and returns to the river to ferry all the New Souls that have just arrived and she is left alone with a sleeping god in her arms.

Hades has always been beautiful, with his curved eyes and thick black hair. His thick lips pop obscenely over the most innocent of words and she does not understand how it came to happen, but she loves him.

Persephone loves Hades.

When they have passed the nineties and are close to the hundreds, Jimin gives in and takes Persephone with him to the River Styx.

Persephone holds his hand as they walk down the riverbank, finding the place Persephone had first landed and then turn towards the water and watch the flow. Persephone is nervous and Jimin is just as nervous for him because it was only the night before when he had decided that the Styx was their best option and Persephone had cupped his face and kissed him.

He had kissed Persephone back and they had lain in Jimin’s bed that night facing one another as they held hands and slept just like that.

Now they are here and Jimin feels like it is time Persephone had something of himself with him wherever he may go in case this all ends badly. So Jimin grips his hand tighter and leans up until his lips can reach Persephone’s ear.

“My name is Jimin.”

Persephone goes still, turning his head to blink back at Jimin. “Why does that sound like a goodbye?”

Jimin only smiles and shrugs. “I’m saying goodbye to this version of yourself. When you rise from the water, you’ll be different. But still you… if Persephone and Kore were ever really you, to begin with, I mean.”

Persephone smiles, kissing Jimin chastely. “They are me, but only parts. When I rise again, it will be a new me, but the same. Promise to pull me out when it feels like I am taking too long?”

“Of course,” Jimin says because Styx blessed him a long time ago and the river’s waters could never hurt him.

Jimin kisses Persephone again then lets go of his hand and watches as the god takes one step into the river and crumbles almost immediately, falling face first into the water. He disappears beneath the inky surface and Jimin waits.

He will wait as long as it takes.

The water burns.

Even as a god, it tears away skin, at memories and Namjoon watches them fly by, only reduced down to who he really is now that he is beneath the river’s surface.

He needs to find an anchor, needs to find himself so that he can be reborn. So he watches his memories and bites back screams as more of his physical body disappears and reforms only to disappear once more.

His childhood passes by in a blur but he can see the unhappiness on his face, the curling in his stomach every time he wore dresses or skirts. When he grew into his body and the growth spurt really hit, he looked too awkward and was all limbs.

But then the memory of him in the trousers and tunic, the burgundy robes that made Jimin stop in his tracks to stare at him. He looked right for once in his life. He looked like who he was always meant to be, what he always felt like deep down even when he was the child who hated their body and wanted to remake everything.

He takes the memory and holds it to his chest with his desecrated arms and throws it to the surface, surprised when he too breaks the surface right after.

Jimin is there and he takes him into his arms, holding Namjoon’s tender and sore body. His hand brushes against the riverbank and flowers bloom, signaling the return of Namjoon’s power.

He aches all over and he knows that he will be on bedrest for the next five days or so, but he has his power and he can heal.

He does not know what his body looks like now, but when he reaches for his chest, he finds it only a tad flatter than usual and gropes between his legs, relaxing when it feels the same as always.

He may be a god, but there are certain things even gods cannot change.

Jimin kisses his face all over, whispering something over and over again that Namjoon can’t catch and kisses Jimin full on the mouth when he gets close enough. Their breaths intermingle in the air between them as their mouths mold together, insistent in a way they never dared to be before. Namjoon doesn’t care anymore because he loves Jimin and Jimin loves him too.

When they break apart, Namjoon smiles up at Jimin and says, “My name is Namjoon.”

Jimin grins and kisses him again.

On the one hundred and thirty-third day, Demeter visits the Underworld in secret to watch her son wed Hades.

Her son holds a single pomegranate seed to his mouth after the vows have been said and eats it, smiling when Hades rushes to kiss his cheeks, his forehead, and nose. Then finally, his mouth and the ceremony is complete.

Demeter watches them dance all night and when she steps into the garden, she knows enough of Kore’s work to recognize the new work her son has created now that he is happy and married.

She leaves before either god can become aware of her presence and cries when her son agrees to come back to her for a fraction of the year. The other parts will be spent with his husband and as a mother, who is she to say no to these terms?

Tales will be told of Hades’ wife Persephone centuries from when the “kidnapping” took place, but neither god has ever put much stock into them. There will be tales of Hades’ cruelty and Namjoon will laugh at each and every one of them.

The legends will become twisted and people will eventually believe that Hades’ wife was taken by force, but they do not know about Namjoon.

They will never know that Hades’ husband loved him with as much love as he could and will continue to love him until they both no longer exist in the upper or Underworld.

And what the mortals don’t know won’t kill them.

[fanofvariousthings]

MiniMoni and Me Part 1

(Namjoon X Jimin X reader) fairy au

Summary: You’re waking your dog (named Hobi who’s a very special dog and you’ll find out why in future chapters hehhehe) in the woods but he ran off which resulted in you getting lost until you stumble across a flowery cottage that happens to change your life.

A/N: Here’s the first chapter! I’m sorry if there are any grammatical errors or anything because I’m bad this but I hope you guys enjoy reading it :) The first few chapters will only be Namjoon, Jimin, Y/N and Hobi but I will include the rest of bangtan as the story goes on, so don’t worry!

Anyway let’s get on with the story...

Your POV

“Hobi!” You called out only to be met with silence, your voice echoing throughout thousands of slender trees. An anxious feeling was growing more and more every minute in your chest as you continued to walk along the path between the trees in search of your furry friend who ran off earlier. He was excitedly chasing after a ball you threw when you were playing with him and you hadn’t seen him since. That was over 3 hours ago and now the bright, warm sun was starting to set causing the woodland area around you to glow with a tinge if orange. It was almost 7pm and it would clearly be getting dark soon.

You decide to go off the path and continued to shout, “Hobi! Hobi are you here? Come here baby!” Your heart was sinking. What if you couldn’t find him? You’d be distraught.

The leaves and twigs were crunching beneath your boots as you stepped further into the wood, not giving up on finding your baby Hobi yet. Tears were glassing over your eyes, blurring your vision as you wondered if he was okay. You couldn’t wait to have him back in your arms, giving him treats and petting him softly.

Looking around you didn’t recognise your surroundings. You usually come to this forest but you had never trailed this far into it and couldn’t remember which direction you had came from. Was it left or right? You sighed in frustration and fell to your knees resting your head in your hands. “What am I going to do now?” You mumbled to yourself. You didn’t have any signal on your phone either and you knew you were absolutely screwed by now.

Suddenly you heard voices and looked around curiously. You hadn’t seen or heard any other people this deep into the forest yet and you couldn’t help but want to find them and see if they had seen your Hobi and maybe direct your out of the woods. However you weren’t that naive so you decided to proceed with caution when you started to head in the direction of the voices. There seems to be two very distinct voices, one being low and calming where as the other voice seemed to be higher and giddy.

The voices grew louder as a small cottage covered in bright flowers came into sight. It was beautiful. You noticed a white wooden fence surrounding it with a gate at the start of a pebbled path which led up to the mahogany door, surrounding it was an arch filled with the pinkest roses you had ever seen. On every windowsill you saw white plant pots with the most unusual turquoise flowers poking over the edges. Fireflies hovered around the land of the tiny house buzzing in harmony, it was strangely enchanting. As you stepped closer and lifted your arm up about to open the gate, the voices stopped.

You gingerly wrapped your fingers around the hook on the gate and opened it stepping into the front garden of the peculiar cottage. “Hello?” You called out. It was then that you spotted the florescent green tennis ball with the letters H O B I printed on it, sitting on the freshly cut grass and you felt relief rush over you. He must be nearby so whoever lives in this house must have seen him. You approached the door and knocked taking a step back waiting for an answer. A few minutes passed and you looked to your side at the windows but the curtains were closed. Hmmm this is odd, there were voices coming from here a few minutes ago. You walked back to pick up the ball and turned around to try and knock on the door again when you walked into something hard. “Oof,” a groan escaped your lips as warm, strong arms wrapped around you. Before you could react a deep, soothing voice was muttering what seemed like a foreign language whilst small sparks surrounded you. And thank was the last thing you heard before your eyes became droopy and your consciousness slipped away.

~time skip brought to you by BT21 X VT Cosmetics,, THE NEXT DAY~

(No I’m not being sponsored but I wish I was)

Your eyelids slowly opened and your mind was fuzzy. You blinked a few times before realising you were in a very unfamiliar place. Then it hit you like a tonne of bricks. Someone had caught you and knocked you out, or so you had thought. Your heartbeat rapidly increased. What if you’ve been kidnapped? No that’s ridiculous, surely you would have been tied up and locked up in a grimy place if you were. Instead you were on top of a soft, puffy bed in what seemed to be a very cosy and homely room. Trying to contain your nerves you stood up shaking and headed for the door of the room.

Once you opened it you tried to walk out. Emphasis on tried. You immediately bounced backwards. “What the hell?” you gasped trying to leave the room again only to be pushed right back. It was almost as if there was an invisible force field there, blocking you from leaving the room. “That’s impossible,” you mumbled to yourself. You lifted your hand up moving it forwards until your finger tips touched the forcefield in front of you creating a ripple of shimmer through the thin air. You stepped back and sat on the bed trying to process what’s going on. This can’t be real. You must be dreaming because this was too bizarre for reality.

Unexpectedly you heard light footsteps starting to approach the room you were in which caused you to panic and freeze on the spot as a small figure stood on the opposite side of the doorframe to you now. The person was clearly male from what you could tell as you he appeared to be thin and dainty but also very muscular with strong facial features. You gasped a bit in shock at his beauty as you stared wide eyed at his plump lips, defined jawline and his big, deep blue,bold eyes which were slightly covered by the parted golden hair on his head. He was wearing a loose fitted white jumper and blue jeans with silver jewellery decorated on his fingers, wrists and ears which you couldn’t help but find that his pointed ears stood out the most about him. Why were his ears so pointy? That’s not what the average human looks like. But then again, he was more attractive than the average human. His eyes glistened as you made eye contact with him and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

He stood forwards about to approach you when you instantly jumped back behind the side of the bed. “Stay right where you are creep. Let me leave and I won’t call the police!”

“Relax,” he sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How do I know that? You’ve done something weird to me and made me pass out and I somehow can’t leave this room because every time I do I get pushed right back in,” you rambled on in a panic.

“Okay I need you to calm down please, Y/N. I’ll explain everything. We have Hobi downstairs-“

“We? Who else is here and how do you know my dogs name and that he belongs to me? Wait. How on Earth do you know my name?”

“Y/N, please” he looked slightly worried right now, “everything will be explained in good time. Moni is going to be home soon and he’ll answer your questions.”

“I can’t trust you until I know what the fuck is going on. Can you please just tell me why I’m here and who you are exactly?”

“I’m Jimin but you can call me Mini. And it’s complicated which is why we have to wait for Moni to get here before you can see Hose- I mean Hobi.” Jimin slowly made his way to the bed and sat down facing you. He patted the spot beside him and you skeptically sat down next to him.

After you sat down with Mini you couldn’t help but feel slightly at ease now. It was like there was something drawing you to him and there was a gut feeling you had which was telling you to trust him. You’d be getting answers soon and you’d finally know the truth about what was going on.

(Ahhh so here y’all go!!!! I hope you enjoyed this lil intro chapter, I promise the next one will be longer and will give a lot more details about the storyline -Clo)

Part 2 is here vvvvvvvvv

[jimlingss]

A Serpent’s Flower [1/2]

CO-WRITTEN WITH @dovechim

Read Part Two Here

Read the Sequel - Sowing a Sapling: Part 1

Words: 16.2k Genre: Fluff, Smut, Smidgen of Angst, Hogwarts!AU, ??!AU Summary: The wizarding community has learned from its past mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t mean that house rivalries aren’t still an issue. What transpires between you and a certain Park Jimin seems to go far beyond just house enmity though - it’s downright personal, and one might even say you go out of your way to torment him. But when a love potion gone awry, it may just force you to walk in his shoes. 

Warnings: Male masturbation, unprotected sex, mentions of sex toys.

“That’s twenty points docked from Hufflepuff.”

The first year student begins to sob. His tears dribble down his cheeks to soak the yellow scarf around his neck. You grimace in distaste. Weaklings, the entire house is a disgrace.

But she’s not alone, however, since her housemates - third years, by the looks of their acne blemished skin and awkward, half broken voices - start to voice their protest. “H-how is that fair?!”

“Do not question my authority.” You snap back, gathering your emerald cloak about your figure in slow, deliberate movements to remind them just who they’re talking to. From your superior height, you make sure to stare down at the youngest of them with such intense disgust that even Salazar Slytherin would be proud. “Ten more points docked. Keep talking and I’ll keep going.”

The Hufflepuff children seal their lips, the younger ones diverting their eyes to the ground and the older ones glaring at you with sharpened pupils. You whip around, letting your robes slice through the air in a sharp motion as the green shade burns into the back of their vision.

“That is so not fair…”

“She h-hates us,” the other traumatised little first year is sobbing incoherently.

“You’re not wrong there,” a second year mutters back, patting the crying boy and attempting to soothe him. A Gryffindor walking past snickers under his breath and a Ravenclaw continues to bury her head in her Muggle Studies textbook.

“It’s not us she hates...” A fifth year shudders out and he looks towards the blue sky. “It’s our Head of House….”

“Professor Park.”

*//*

Contrary to popular belief, you love to teach. Potions has always been your speciality, and in some aspects, it suits your personality to a tee. The amount of precision needed, attention to detail, and most of all, patience, are all attributes that make you one of the best Potions Masters of your time.

You sigh and lean in your hard backed chair, massaging your temples. Your office is the only place where you can get a little respite from all those rowdy little children, and all the better since you’d long ago placed a Jelly-Legs Jinx upon the threshold to whoever dared trespass.

With the curtains drawn and the portraits asleep, it lulls you into a sense of contentment. You briefly watch your pencils sharpen themselves on your desk, the rhythmic sounds of metal against the oak coloured wood serving as white noise as you flip through a stack of completed assignments.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Come in.” You mumble underneath your breath, halfway through marking the written portions of the most recent experiment. The door hinges swing open gently and for a moment, it seems as if the sun itself has graced you with its presence.

It’s a blindingly bright shade, one that sears to the back of your own irises. It reminds you of amber flickering flames on a cold winter’s night, marigold and daffodil flowers that filled verdant fields of your childhood home. It’s the sand at the beaches, the lemons of your grandmother’s muggle farm and the gold jewelry she carefully stowed away in boxes for future generations. It’s the icing on the cupcake, the hue that reminds you of happiness...of kindness…

And of Park Jimin.

Hence, you despise the colour yellow.

“Good evening, Professor ___.” Jimin is nothing short of respectful as he greets you. His silver hair and sharp jawline is a striking mismatch to the house that he belongs to. He almost looks like a Slytherin, if you did say so yourself, but the thought of it immediately makes you want to hurl in disgust at yourself for tarnishing the great name of Salazar Slytherin. But the gentle aura, rounded cheeks and crinkled eyes, the colour of his robes tells you that there’s no better place where he belongs.

But then your eyes drift to the two students flanking him. You recognize Min Yoongi, a third year student and Lee Kihoon, a second year student, both from your house. You’d dealt with their mischief more than a couple of times already, which explains your familiarity with them. But with the pile of scripts sitting in front of you still waiting to be assessed, you can’t help but feel your fingers twitch in irritation at the silver haired man who’s currently puffing out his chest, arms folded and appearing indignant.

Hufflepuffs and their sense of justice. They’re no different than those god forsaken Gryffindors, really, just with a tad more self preservation.

The two students are held by the back of their shirt collars and forced to plop down into the two seats in front of you. “I caught these two in the corridor just now, engaging in a… well, why don’t you tell your Head of House exactly what you were doing.”

You cock an eyebrow up at the undercurrent of anger that accompanies his usually mild, easygoing tone. Yoongi scratches the back of his neck and inhales sharply, embarrassment written in every single line of his body, but the stubborn snake refuses to show even a hint of weakness. Just as a Slytherin should. You can barely stop yourself from smirking in satisfaction. Yoongi was always one of your favourite students, after all. “Well, go on, boy.”

“It’s not my fault.” The blonde shrugs nonchalantly, having absolutely no qualms about throwing his friend under the bus. “Kihoon was the one who suggested it.”

“Hey!” Kihoon protests but at your hardened glare, they stop bickering, quieting down immediately. “I-..we...both spilled water in the hallway and..uh...used the freezing charm.”

“And how many slipped on the ice and got injured?” Jimin interrupts and then looks straight at you. “Ten kids! Ten of them! They’re all in the infirmary and one person almost broke their neck!”

You sigh internally, rolling your eyes heavenwards as you eye Park Jimin with a sort of disinterest. What could he possibly want you to do? Bringing a matter as trivial as this to your attention, when it could have easily been handled on the spot like that. This is why Hufflepuff is a disgrace - their Head of House is such a bumbling, incompetent fool.

Taking your time to glare at the two students in emerald robes, a small jolt of satisfaction soothes your vexation just a smidgen when you see them cower before you. They visibly gulp at your menacing aura and you lean back in your chair. Jimin taps his foot and waits for you to utter anything at all. Silence weighs heavily in the air, as both your students and Park Jimin are hanging onto your every single breath. “Alright...I think they’ve learned their lesson.”

“Excuse me?” Park Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he looks as if he’s about to protest.

“I’ll just dock off three points from Slytherin house. And don’t do that again, boys. Do you understand me? This is my final warning to you both.”

“We understand.” Kihoon dips his head, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. This is not the first time he’s been issued a final warning. “I’m sincerely sorry, madam.”

Jimin’s mouth is wide open, “that’s it?”

Yoongi shoots you a lazy little smirk in appreciation as well, reaching to adjust the knot of his silver and emerald striped tie. “I believe we should be going now, Professor Park. Kihoon and I have to get to class.”

The two children quickly leave the room and as you’re packing your belongings to prepare for the next period, Jimin lingers. You lift your eyes. “Yes?”

“Do you know what you’ve just done?” He crosses his arms and despite looking stern, the Hufflepuff only looks irritably cute with his pout. Even a house elf would be more aggressive and frightening than him. You wonder how he manages to stay on top of discipline in his own house at all, being the pushover that he is.

“You’ve undermined my authority, Professor ___. As two professors of equal status, I expected the punishment to be harsher. I hope you’re not favouring those students because they belong to your house.”

“They’re my students.” You bite back, ignoring the way his eyes are glittering with indignance, and how they resemble two orbs burning bright. “I get to discipline them however I see fit. Don’t undermine my authority.”

The pair of you stare at each other. Despite your best intimidating glare that would have sent even the strongest Death Eater themselves cowering, Park Jimin is unaffected, and it leaves you a little uneasy. He doesn’t even appear angry or remotely annoyed at you. Instead, he looks at you with a sort of defeated resignation, such a far cry from his usual bright and cheerful self that you feel a little disconcerted.

You clear your throat hastily. “Are you going to move? I need to leave.”

“Oh…” He shuffles back. “Sorry.”

You brush past him in a rustle of emerald robes, leaving him to scamper after you as the door to your office slams shut. Professor Park is left in the dust as you strut down the hallway, not looking back once.

Once you turn the corner, you let out a sigh you didn’t even know you’d been holding. Park Jimin is an incompetent fool, too kind-hearted and generous for the rigorous job of Head of House. You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind, but it’s no use. The burnished gold of his robes has been imprinted into your mind, and you spite the foolish kindness that he displayed to you.

He’s spineless. Unfit for the job. Weak.

*//*

“Afternoon, ___, hope your classes went well?”

You settle into your seat at the oval shaped meeting table beside Kim Namjoon, Arithmancy Professor and also Ravenclaw’s Head of House. The brunette man in his rounded spectacles has always been rather pleasant for you to chat with. His high intelligence doesn’t make it a headache to converse with, unlike some fools you know.

The room is already mostly filled with teaching staff for the monthly progress meeting, and you smile back at him in response. Just as you’re about to answer, a boisterous voice cuts in.

“Oohhh! The Ice Empress smiled! Won’t that melt your unfailingly cold heart or something?” Kim Taehyung grins from ear to ear as he waits for your scathing response, and you have half a mind not to humour him.

Being Gryffindor’s Head of House, he always has a way of getting right under your skin, and not in a good way. You’d tried to look past the typical house rivalry, you really did, but something about him just rubs you the wrong way. You’d rather not interact with him at all.

If you had an extermination list, which you may or may not legitimately have, Kim Taehyung would be on the top of the list.

“I don’t know about you, but some of us don’t have the emotional range of a teaspoon, you know?” You shoot back, but as always, your barbed comments do nothing to dim the enthusiasm in his eyes. If anything, it only serves to encourage him further.

“You’re so sexy like this, madam ___.” Taehyung wiggles his brows up and down. You muse that the scarlet colour of his clothes is rather convenient. If you were to kill him, it wouldn’t stain too badly. “You should yell at me more. I love the sass.”

You drop down across from him, the tip of your want being pulled out from your sleeve. You’re about to mutter a silencing charm but-

“Ladies and gentlemen, please! I beg of you!”

A frazzled looking raven haired man cuts in from his position at the head of the table, and he appears as stressed as he sounds. “What did I say about House Unity? We can’t have the Heads fighting amongst ourselves if we want to set a good example for the students.” Jeon Jeongguk pushes his full moon spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose as his eyes scan over each and every face. His hair is absolutely wild, pixie dust and strings of cotton attached to the strands. Past the glasses and doe orbs, you find anxiety and panic.

The room quiets down in response, waiting for him to go on.

“Now, I believe we should start this meeting before the next Wizarding War breaks out,” he chuckles hysterically a little at his own joke, although no one else in the room seems to find it funny. You wonder if he’s losing his mind. Jeongguk clears his throat and continues. “Hoseok, why don’t you start us off? How have your Charms classes been going lately? Any problem with the OWLs?”

It’s mostly the same thing every month. There’s nothing new and you find yourself peering around the room in slight boredom as you wait for your turn to come. As your eyes survey the other end of the table, they lock upon another pair of caramel glazed ones, and you freeze in your seat.

Park Jimin doesn’t flinch under your stone cold gaze, and for the second time that day you find yourself a little unnerved at how unintimidated he is. Hufflepuffs are pushovers, right?

Then why isn’t he backing down?

“...Professor ___?” You blink, and the spell is broken. You immediately snap back into reality, only to realise that the entire room is waiting for your report.

“O-oh, right,” you clear your throat in an attempt to mask the slight tremor in your voice, even as you avoid Park Jimin’s gaze from across the room. It’s unlike you or any Slytherin to become flustered.

You regain your natural composed state in less than half a second. “My students are on track to taking their OWLs, and there are a few promising individuals who show interest in doing Potions at a higher level. Although…”

Your voice trails off as your gaze is reluctantly drawn back to the silver haired man across from you. “There was an incident earlier this term. A few of my students got injured while making the Draught of Living Death. The cause, as it turns out, was due to a few faulty ingredients, namely from the Herbology gardens…”

The effect is almost like a whiplash, every head at the table turns toward Park Jimin as he receives the brunt of your glare, but still, he doesn’t back down.

“U-um, well, Professor Park, d-do you have anything to say about this?” Jeongguk can almost feel the tension in the air, even as he withers under your gaze that isn’t directed at him. He knows all too well how things will go, because it’s like this every meeting. First, Park Jimin will respond with an acerbic bite-

“Well, last I checked, the Potions Masters are the ones responsible for harvesting their own ingredients for their students.”

-then you’ll match him blow for blow-

“And last I checked, Professor Park, it was the Herbology Professor’s responsibility to cultivate only the finest specimens for our students.”

-and it goes on until someone steps in. Jeongguk glances around the room in mounting desperation, most of his staff look bored or have already begun chatting with one another, leaving him to be the only one privy to the full out bickering in front of him.

Jeongguk sighs, massaging his temples as he gathers every single ounce of courage that he possesses. “This won’t do.”

Thanks to his position of authority, the two of you become silenced, and Jeongguk thanks his lucky stars because were he not Headmaster, he doesn’t think he could withstand that piercing, intimidating gaze of yours. “I won’t stand this any longer. Every single meeting we have, the two of you take as an opportunity to go at each other’s throats. You’re going to have to find a way to resolve this, or I will.”

His threat hangs in the air, and you swallow hard, raising your voice to protest. “Headmaster, it clearly isn’t my fault…!”

Jimin rolls his eyes from across the table, having heard this line way too many times. “Yeah, it never is, is it?”

“What exactly are you insinuating, Professor Park?” Your hackles are raised again, and you tighten your hands into fists. “The safety of our students is not on my shoulders alone. If you do not accept at least partial responsibility for what has happened, then I think you’re unfit for this job.”

“If you are that concerned with the safety of the children within this castle, then you would discipline your own kids first. Being biased towards students depending on the house they belong to is unjust discrimination. Your favoritism is harmful-”

“Excuse me?!” You scoff out. “If you have the audacity to accuse me of such things, then I think your time is better spent working on your own disciplining skills. I have an important subject to teach, Professor Park. I cannot sit around all day to help you reprimand delinquents. You may have the time but I do not.”

Taehyung raises his brow at your remark and he takes a long sip of his drink that you swear is secretly butterbeer. Namjoon is reading over his written report but seems impressed with your biting response. Jimin frowns, a flash of hurt appearing over his face and for a moment, you feel guilty for what you’ve said.

It only lasts a single second, however.

“If you are indicating that herbology is not as important as potions, then I fear we have another discussion, ___.”

Jimin doesn’t address you under the respectful title of professor or madam and you laugh mirthlessly. As you begin to stand up, the Headmaster lets out another long suffering sigh.

Children. He’s working with a bunch of children. Sooner or later he’s going to have to make the two of you have a time out in the naughty corner or a time out chair, or else-

“PROFESSORS!” He bellows, and the two of you glance at him. “Now, since you can’t get along like the mature adults that you are…” He clasps his hands together to hide the slight tremor in anticipation of your reaction. “I’ve decided that the two of you should combine classes. Not only would it foster a better working relationship between the two of you, I feel like it would go a long way in promoting some much needed House Unity as well.”

House Unity - It’s been Jeongguk’s motto ever since he’s been working as Headmaster for three months. He may be lost and an utter mess but in every conversation, he’s been advocating for his one and only message. House Unity. It haunts you at every single meeting and encounter you have with him, and sometimes, you have to admit that you voluntarily pick a fight with the other Houses just to piss him off.

Inwardly, Jeongguk is cringing, ready for your striking blow that should come any minute now, when in actual fact, all of this is ridiculous, he’s the fucking Headmaster for Merlin’s sake, he shouldn’t be this afraid of a measly little Potions Master-

“I. Will. Not. Have. It.” You punctuate each word with your fist on the table, and Jeongguk has to stop himself from flinching on reflex. Taehyung curls inwards and Namjoon finally looks up. You’ve somehow managed to regain the attention of all the sleepy professors around.

“If I am able to speak, I don’t believe this is the right course of action.” Jimin responds kindly and eloquently with a smile, coaxing the Headmaster. You roll your eyes at his idiotic gesture. “It would be more fitting if Professor ___ and I would discuss our own matters privately.”

Jeongguk is almost at his wits end as you glare at him and Jimin merely smiles back. The kindness pisses you off even further, darkening your expression into a murderous look. If you wouldn’t get fired for it, Jeongguk is sure you’d leap over the table and claw the Hufflepuff’s eyes out. But the Headmaster is pleasantly surprised. He never thought Jimin could hold his own against you. Even Taehyung wouldn’t be able to challenge you to this extent.

To be quite frank, Jeongguk feels that he, himself, can’t argue more than a sentence against you without it making him feel like he’s about to burst into tears.

“I’m the Headmaster, so my word is final,” Jeongguk clenches his jaw, and for the first time since the Dark Lord was defeated, he actually fears for his life when you turn that murderous gaze upon him. He thinks you’d make a pretty good Death Eater, actually. “A-and that’s all for today, meeting dismissed, see you all next month!”

He runs for the door with his tail between his legs.

*//*

It may be quite irrational for you as a Slytherin to be hostile towards a Hufflepuff.

Jimin has never particularly committed any crime against you that has been audacious or cruel. You even went to school with him for seven years, granted, only sharing a few classes and never an exchange of words. Kim Taehyung, the head of Gryffindor, is the one who you should despise with every bone in your body. But there’s something about Park Jimin that gets under your skin.

It’s the unrestrained kindness that you cannot understand or begin to wrap your mind around. No matter what venomous words you may spit out to the man adorning the colour of yellow, he always treats you with benevolence and courtesy. There’s not an ounce of hatred in his eyes and his smile drips with tender sweetness and tolerance. It’s something you can never do.

Sometimes you wonder if Professor Park is just plain stupid.

“Alright children, take your seats.” You join him at the front of the room, the sweltering greenhouse causing sweat beads to accumulate at your hairline. “Today and for the next few weeks, we’ll be combining herbology and potions classes.”

There are a few puzzled and incredulous looks exchanged amongst the students, mostly the Slytherins, but the other half of the room seems genuinely excited to have Professor Park around. It’s not classified information that he’s the better-liked teacher. You prefer to rule with an iron fist while he likes to hand out flowers to everyone and shower them in compliments.

“There a lot of similarities between the two subjects.” Jimin speaks up with a grin, “most of the potion ingredients used are part of magical plants and we’re going to teach you how the entire process from just a mere seed-” Within his palm, a seed appears and all the first year students lean over with glistening eyes and a ‘woah’. “-to a potion.”

A purple cloud and a ‘poof’ later, he’s sloshing electric blue liquid in a phial. As you discreetly roll your eyes, Jimin basks in the applause he receives. “Listen up, this assignment for the next weeks is going to count for forty percent of your grade, so take it seriously or you’ll fail my class.”

Immediately all the children sit back down in their chairs, smiles vanishing without a trace, posture straight and hands folded on top of the wooden table like you’ve trained them to do. Jimin, obviously a little perturbed by the sudden dip in the previously charged atmosphere, glances at you from the corner of his eye, biting his plush bottom lip.

You ignore him, keeping your gaze trained on the row of Hufflepuffs before you as they tremble slightly under your scrutiny. “We are going to be making a Pompion Potion. Does anyone know what that is?”

A girl instantly jolts her entire arm up. You call upon her name and she answers in a heartbeat, “it’s a potion that temporarily turns the drinker’s head into a pumpkin.”

“Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw.” You twist on your feet and a Gryffindor swallows nervously. “Can anyone tell me what are the ingredients to make the potion?” You stop in front of a Hufflepuff who has his head down, eyes boring into the sheet of blank parchment before him in order to avoid meeting your incendious gaze. “What’s your name?”

“K-Kim….S-Seokjin.”

Upon hearing the boy’s name, Jimin immediately recognizes the student, recalling him to be one of the more playful and outspoken ones of his year. Typically he’s a boisterous, rambunctious mess, sporting dark fluffy hair that refuses to be tamed, but under your intimidation, he’s reduced to nothing more than a meek, shell of his former self.

“Tell me, Seokjin. What are the ingredients?”

“D-dittany-”

“Wrong.” You immediately cut in, like a vulture swooping down for its prey. “Ten points taken away from Hufflepuff.”

Seokjin can only bite his lip in consternation, and even from across the room, Jimin can see that he’s bravely trying to hold his tears back. He quirks his eyebrow at your unusually harsh punishment.

You spare Seokjin one more scathing glance before turning away, internally regretting asking the class this at all. Clearly none of them did their prescribed reading, but you’ll be damned if you have to give in and answer your own question like a bumbling fool.

“Can anyone else answer?” The same girl from earlier raises her hand but you turn towards the Slytherin side of the class, hoping that at least your house won’t let you down too badly. “Tell me.”

“Flitterby Moth, Bouncing Bulb and….Foxglove. In that order...” A boy with round glasses sitting in the back pipes up.

“Correct. Fifteen points to Slytherin.” A hint of a smile tugs at your lips at his answer, and the boy grins smugly in response. “You must crush the flitterby moth, stir it clockwise until it turns green, not blue. Then, the plant is grounded and poured into the cauldron until it’s red and we add the foxglove. The result is an orange colour.”

There's a flurry of action that bursts within the classroom as the students reach for their quills and parchment, scribbling down your instructions. Returning back to the front of the classroom, you glance over at Jimin before giving him a taciturn nod. Your part of the lecture is over, at least for now.

He patiently waits for them to finish writing, when you would have proceeded on with the next part nevertheless. Irritation bubbles up in your chest as you watch the way he beams at the class, and you swear you can even see some students slow their hurried scribbling when they realise you’re not actively interrogating them any more.

Jimin gestures to the rows of neatly lined up red brick pots at the front of the classroom. “This is a Bouncing Bulb seed. When it’s mature, it bounces around but it’s easier to handle when it’s young so each of you don’t have to worry. Professor Jung will teach you the Fire-making spell which is used to wither the plant.”

His golden robes glisten in the sunlight piercing through the glass ceiling and his smile is blazing, even as his eyes travel the span of the room, taking in the worried expressions on some of the student’s faces. “I don’t want any of you to become anxious over this assignment. Professor ___ and I will be here every single step of the way. You will tend to your plant until it’s mature enough to be made into a potion.”

The children nod and upon his instructions, move to take their pots and seeds. You and Jimin had debated beforehand and after two hours of bickering, the plan had been set. Today, the kids would be planting their seeds before decorating their own pots.

At first, you told him the idea of paints and art was ridiculous, adding no value to the actual subject of Potions or even Herbology whatsoever, but he insisted, arguing that it would help instill in them “a sense of individuality”, or whatever he called it. Park Jimin may be a Hufflepuff, but he doesn’t back down from an argument, and you find that his persistence has worn you down considerably.

Pick your battles, ___. A Hufflepuff somehow manages to spill an entire bottle of red paint all over herself and the floor, so you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself that you love your job, you love your job, you love your job-

A knock on the door interrupts you, and you frown when a familiar blonde head appears in the doorway.

“Min Yoongi. What are you doing here? Do you not have class to attend to?”

“He doesn’t.” Jimin grins and throws his arm over the Slytherin third year student who is visibly sulking. “Yoongi, here, has become my assistant for this class. I found out that he has a free period and he’s willing to help me every single day until it’s over. Isn’t that right, Min Yoongi?”

He makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat, making eye contact with you as he desperately pleads for you to somehow get him out of this situation. You glance over at the rows of children behind you, giggling and shouting as they play fight over the paints, sighing internally.

You and me both, buddy.

You wonder if this is Jimin’s new disciplining technique, but you can’t dismiss Yoongi without it being a blatant undermining of Jimin’s authority. So you have no choice but to shrug wordlessly.

“Well go on,” Jimin pats the Slytherin’s shoulder. “Go forth and help your fellow first years.”

Yoongi begrudgingly plops down next to the student you recognize as Seokjin.

“Lovely day to teach, isn’t it, Professor ___.” Jimin turns to a batch of potted Asphodel, running his fingers gently over the alabaster lily petals as they shudder under his touch. He seems completely at home in the tiny little greenhouse, the humidity not even bothering him a tiny bit, only resulting the translucent glow of his dewy skin. “I do find your teaching very…”

“You have an issue with it?” You’re quick to jump down his throat, immediately taking the offensive as a reflex action.

“It’s peculiar.” He says with a soft smile, leaving you behind as he turns to the rose bushes right next to him. The Hufflepuff Head of House produces a small pair of gardening shears from his pocket, snipping a rose from one of the growing vines, cutting off all the thorns. “Flower?”

The man hands it to you without allowing you to reject his offer.

The thin, delicate stem is a rich shade of green, perhaps beryl or jade. An enticing, temptingly sweet yet delicate and light scent wafts from its deep ruby stained petals. But the moment your fingers grip around the stem, the scarlet hue morphs into a bisque and bright yellow.

You gaze at it before flickering your orbs upwards. “How?”

He grows sheepish and shrugs casually, going back to tending to his garden. “I cross bred it with some other things and tested a few spells. The flower alters based on the person’s favourite colour.”

Your heart hammers against your chest.

You laugh. “That’s impossible.”

Jimin gives you a knowing look, and it feels as if he’s crawled right under your skin with just a single glance, gained access to some intimate part of you that you keep heavily guarded; it feels as if he’s unraveled you just like that. He gives you a small little smile, harmless and innocent on the surface, but then again, nothing about Park Jimin is as you thought.

But then he shrugs nonchalantly. “Is it?”

Before you can snap back a harsh retort about how inaccurate his silly little plant is, a Gryffindor comes bouncing up to the pair of you. “I have a question, sir and madam. If we must focus on one particular part with this project, shall it be the potions aspect or the plant? I want to train for my Quidditch match and-”

“Of course, the end result is the most important.” You tell her immediately. “If the potion works then that’s all that matters.”

“I’d like to disagree with that with all due respect, Professor ___. The potion can be spoiled but a plant is a life and needs to be taken seriously. A potion can be remade or fixed and it does not require as much time as the plant.”

You chortle in disbelief and the Gryffindor student is left in the middle of the argument. All the children in the room stop their art project to turn around and stare. Yoongi listens in amusement while Seokjin widens his eyes. A Ravenclaw kid facepalms at why a Gryffindor would ask such an idiotic question.

“Are you saying that they should start a potion with the intention to ruin it completely, Professor Park?” You cross your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes into slits, and usually this is when most people would relent and let you have your way.

But Park Jimin doesn’t recognise the signs of danger at all, doesn’t seem to realize that you’re a coiled snake, ready to strike. “No, what I’m saying is, we should value the life of a plant over something as inanimate as a potion.”

“Is that so? Well, then I shall have you know, that the art of Potions Making is in itself a life form, and…”

Neither of you seem to be backing down from this, and the argument only grows more and more intense, till it threatens to engulf the entire room with the heat of your rivalry with each other. The first years shift in their seats, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, and even Yoongi starts to fidget a little as well.

Never have they seen the loving Professor Park in such a heated quarrel, and they’re secretly afraid for their beloved Head of House as they watch him go head to head with you. Even witnessing your venomous glare from the sidelines makes them dread to ever be on the receiving end, and it’s in that frozen state they remain till the bell chimes to signal the end of class.

“We need to do something.” Yoongi mutters and Seokjin slowly nods.

The innocent first year Hufflepuff student tips his head to the side, “like what?”

The thought of having to assist Professor Park in this class every single week for the rest of the semester has Yoongi incredibly annoyed, he’s supposed to be taking a nice long nap right about now. If only there was a way to somehow end this collaboration between the two of you...

A smirk grows on his face and Jin quietly begins to scoot away, only to have the older one throw his arm over his shoulder casually, stopping him from any further movement. A slow, malicious little smirk spreads across the older’s lips, one that makes sends shivers down the younger boy’s spine. “I’ve got just the plan.”

*//*

“Do you not understand the meaning of crush, kid?” Yoongi exhales through his nostrils in an attempt to keep a hold of the last remaining shreds of his rapidly vanishing patience. “When you crush something, you do it like this-”

Yoongi slams the handle of his knife into the chopping board, smashing the root of the poor plant so that its juices seep out copiously. Seokjin flinches at the older boy’s violent aggressiveness, but tries his best to remain put as he watches Yoongi drip the plant’s essence into the cauldron.

Once the peppermint is in the cauldron, it morphs into a green shade. The Slytherin takes a look at the pages of the ancient textbook he stole from the back of the library and he mutters underneath his breath.

“What are you adding now?” Jin blinks innocently, watching as Yoongi throws a handful of pearl dust and a cup of moonstone. “What’s that? What are you putting in? Why is it turning orange? When are you putting in the rose thorns?”

“Shut it.”

There are numerous variations of the potion and it’s an advanced one for that matter. It also doesn’t help that Yoongi’s doing something someone twice his age would be learning and that there is no one true recipe out of the millions of variations. The concoction was banned from an incident years prior and he had to scour the dusty bookshelves in order to find the ingredient list.

The Slytherin is a rather courageous fellow but he was still sweating, hidden in the Room of Requirements, on edge from every single noise outside. He had stolen the materials and the equipment. Yoongi isn’t scared of many things, his mom and maybe a zombie apocalypse. You were certainly on the top of his list, however.

“Is it done?” Jin shoves his nose close to the cauldron and coughs from the intense floral scent. It’s glittering in a shade of bright pink, foaming and nearly oozing off the sides. “It looks…”

The third year student unwraps the food he’s stolen from breakfast and he drops it into the shining liquid. The bread soaks up the pink and in the next second, appears completely untouched, bobbing above the cauldron.

“Listen, kid, so you’ll take this,” Yoongi shoves the two pumpkin pastries into the younger boy’s hands. “And deliver it to both Professors. Alright? You know where their quarters are?”

“N-no,” Seokjin glances down at the two items in his hands, eyes widening as he realises the severity of the crime he’s about to commit. He only thought he was going to be a bystander, maybe a sidekick. Jin begins to sweat profusely.

Yoongi sighs. He should have just done this entire thing on his own, except it wouldn’t be wise because then he wouldn’t have a scapegoat should things go wrong. “Their sleeping quarters are connected to their offices. Professor ___’s office is in the Dungeon Corridor and Professor Park’s is before the kitchen, near the basement. It’s relatively close, only one staircase away.”

“I-I…”

He cocks his eyebrow up and stares at the quivering eleven-year-old. “You don’t think you can do it?”

“I…” Jin begins to cry, tears marking his cheeks. “I don’t want to kill them.”

His voice increases significantly in pitch as he considers the various consequences that could befall the two Professors, and while he doesn’t particularly like you, he doesn’t want to see you die either. “I can’t kill them!”

“No, you idiot!” Yoongi laughs, unable to believe that the Hufflepuff truly thought he was evil enough to murder his two professors. “Were you not paying attention?! This is a love potion, Amortentia, specifically. Look, stop asking questions. I know this might be too much for your tiny brain to handle, but you just have to do your part and make sure they get this. Alright?”

If someone else was here, they’d tell Yoongi off for bullying the boy into doing it.

But no one’s here and a smirk begins to grow on the Slytherin’s face when he sees every detail of the Hufflepuff and how he’s breaking down. “O-okay.”

“Great! Now go! And remember, if you fail, we’re gonna get expelled.”

Jin’s face blanches but he’s pushed out of the room before he can make even the slightest squeak.

*//*

The first part of the task doesn’t prove to be of much difficulty.

After standing outside his Head of House’s door for what seems like an eternity, Seokjin finally gathers the courage to rap his knuckles on the sturdy oakwood. Immediately, it swings open, revealing the kind, bright smile of his Professor, still dressed in his golden robes even though it was outside of class hours.

Upon seeing the tiny little boy on his doorstep with messy black hair and a slight frown decorating the space between his eyebrows, Jimin grows a little concerned. “Seokjin, is there anything I can do for you? Are things going okay? Have you been keeping up with your subjects? Do you need any help? I can try my hardest to assist you in anything you need. I’m not the best at Astronomy but I think I could help you in that too.”

Professor Park’s deluge of concern only weakens his resolve and makes the lump in his throat grow larger. Merlin, he was really going to hell for this, were there even eleven year olds in hell? Seokjin didn’t know. “Ac-actually, Professor, I made this for you…”

It’s only then that Jimin notices the glazed, golden brown pastry that rests upon a paper plate in Seokjin’s grasp, still hot and steaming. Jimin gasps lightly and he grins as the pastry on the paper plate slides onto his desk. “You made this? How did you know my favourite flavour is pumpkin?”

“I made it in my transfiguration class.” Jin rubs his sweaty palms together and he swallows hard, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. “I-It was originally an apple.”

“Very impressive.” Professor Park smiles and picks up the plate, bringing the pastry closer to in order to sample it’s enticing, savoury scent. Seokjin’s eyes widen as he suddenly wonders if Professor Park’s keen sense of smell, honed from years of working with plants and herbs, might detect ingredients that are definitely not supposed to be in a pumpkin pastry.

But the older man replies with nothing but a distant hum. “It smells quite delicious. I’m even more happy that you wanted to share with me. Five points for Hufflepuff.”

“T-thank you, sir.” Jin holds his bottom lip in between his teeth, taking even breaths in order to keep his tears at bay. “I-I….”

“If there isn’t anything else, it’s getting quite late. You should return to your common room now before you get in trouble with one of the Prefects.” Jimin smiles, eyes crinkling into crescent moons as he beams at his student. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to enjoy this with some tea before heading to bed tonight.”

Jin’s about to crack. He feels the wails rip through his throat and his eyes are watering up. The guilt is too much and it feels like a monster, eating at his flesh, screaming out in pain. But then, the boy remembers the older student.

“And remember, if you fail, we’re gonna get expelled.”

The word ‘expelled’ echoes and reverberates in the hollows of his mind. Expelled. The cackles of the Slytherin rings in his ears. Expelled. It haunts him and he finds apparitions of his parents faces, crying and shaking their heads in disappointment as he hauls his luggage home. Expelled.

He braces himself with the courage of a Gryffindor. “O-okay.”

As Kim Seokjin leaves the room and the door shuts behind him...he runs.

This time, it’s not from the usual fear or terror. The adrenaline courses through his veins and he laughs to himself at what he’s done. He runs down the hallway, darting through the other students. Jin is on top of the world, completely invincible. He doesn’t care that Yoongi might be polluting his innocent mind. Seokjin feels powerful. Nothing could stop him now-

“Come in.”

-except for you.

The scarlet rose is in a thin vase on your dark oak desk. You’ve been transfixed by it for the entire evening, unable to finish grading any assignments. Every time you touch the flower, laid a single finger or even grazed your skin against the stem, the petals ripple back into a shade of golden yellow.

But for now, you’ve managed to shatter the reverie. “Is there something you need?”

Seokjin would pee his pants on any other day. He would probably soil himself, standing alone in your office plunged in darkness, in front of your pointed gaze. The Hufflepuff, however, is still riding on his adrenaline and he clenches his fist before he can back down. There’s no choice.

“Madam, I would like to apologize for my mishap earlier. I made this in Transfiguration class and thought you would like it.” He lays down the pastry on your desk and steps back. “Please enjoy it.”

You hum, not paying any mind as your quill circles mistakes on a Ravenclaw’s parchment. “If you have so much time as to attempt to appease me with home cooking, I believe your time is better spent studying to improve your mediocre grades.” Your eyes flicker upwards, “I do appreciate the gesture but you can’t bribe me too easily, Kim. If there’s nothing else you need, you should leave.”

He needs to see you take a bite of it.

“But-”

“See you in class tomorrow. I’ll be asking you a lot of questions considering how much free time you have.” The emerald shade of your robes eradicates any built up courage he has and the profuse sweating returns on the boy. Jin nods and he runs away from the office.

As the door closes behind him, you drop the quill in your hand, indulging in a well needed stretch. Silly little Hufflepuff. What was he thinking, trying to get into your good books with something as common as a pumpkin pastry? You shake your head with an amused smile, rolling your eyes and fully intending on going back to your marking. But hours of being cooped up in your tiny little office, staring at page after page of nonsensical essays have taken a toll on you, and you find your gaze wandering back to the flower resting in your vase and you sigh in exhaustion.

The scent that wafts on the otherwise still breeze in your office is enticing. You frown, glancing over at the innocent looking pastry that rests just beside the vase. Well, just a snack break wouldn’t be that bad, right? And it was from a Hufflepuff after all, so it’s not like he could have any other ulterior motives other than trying to butter you up.

You reach for the glazed bread, finding it still warm to the touch and bring it to your lips without a second thought. In hindsight, it is a terrible, terrible mistake.

Your mouth parts and you take one single bite.

*//*

Your chest feels tight and uncomfortable, and every breath requires a whole new labouring effort. The thudding in your ribcage quickens its pace and then quiets down, only to race again underneath your skin, to the extent that it might even bruise.

Your vision is encapsulated entirely by the single shade alone. It’s the bright, dancing leaps of flickering flames or sunspots, the creamy frothiness of freshly made Butterbeer, the plump sorbet lemons growing on trees, their citrus scent floating through the verdant fields. It’s daffodil and marigold flowers that sway in the crisp breeze, basking in the sunlight beams. The spaces between your toes are tickled by the tall grass and a gentle laugh drifts from your parted lips when an amber butterfly kisses the tip of your nose.

But amongst the meadow of flowers, there’s a distant figure. His silver hair and gentle aura calls to you, tugging your heartstrings closer and closer, causing your chest to shake beneath your hand. He turns around to you and smiles, rounded cheeks and crinkled eyes, whispering your name softly with his lips.

“___”

You reach out to touch him-

The entire universe slips away. He’s gone, your world has turned to black before a piercing light jolts your entire body. You let out a pained groan as you lift your arm, not quite remembering that it ever felt this heavy. Your eyelids peel back and you’re met with…

Yellow?

A gasp leaves your mouth as you lurch back into a state of wakefulness, after lingering in the limbo dreamland for what seems like an eternity. Blinking rapidly to clear the remnants of your hauntingly vivid dream from your consciousness, you groan as you sit up, every single muscle in your body protesting simultaneously.

What happened last night? You vaguely remember finishing the stack of Potions essays before collapsing into bed at nearly one in the morning. It’s nothing too unusual from your daily schedule but why are you so out of sorts this morning?

You swing your legs out of bed, wobbling to get ready for the day. The sluggish, heavy feeling is brushed off as you hope it will vanish once you’re well into your morning routine. But as you walk over to the adjacent bathroom, your steps are heavier than normal, and your body feels foreign, as if it had been rearranged somehow, the ligaments and joints not moving how they typically would.

You’re unusually limber this early in the morning.

Reaching up to stretch the kinks out of your body, you pause to gather your hair up into a bun and push it out of the way, freezing when your fingers encounter nothing but short, silky strands that don’t go past your ears.

Fuck.

It must be that fucking Hufflepuff, he put something into that damn pastry, you swear to Merlin you’ll skin him alive-

Your hasty retreat into the bathroom is met with more than a few bumps and knocks along the way, and you can only wince at your body’s uncoordinated attempts as you wrestle yourself in front of the mirror, and are met with…

Your worst nightmare.

Park Jimin’s sleepy, dishevelled bedhead stares back at you in the mirror, perhaps with the most disgruntled and pissed off expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

Glancing down at the rest of your body, you’re met with toned biceps that flex all too easily, partially revealed by the short sleeved shirt that you- he slept in. Your eyes continue to travel down the flat chest to land on thick, muscled thighs left bare by sleep shorts, thankfully clothing the thick bulge hanging in the air.

You scream.

*//*

“You want a what?”

It’s a little disconcerting to be faced with your own body and talking to your own face like this, and even more uncomfortable to see the way Park Jimin’s very essence still pours out of every single pore of yours even when he’s occupying your body.

You’ve never seen yourself sporting such a neutral expression in the face of a calamity this catastrophic before. This must be what they mean by an out-of-body experience, but you’re in no mood to joke about such things.

“I want an Unbreakable Vow. That you won’t touch what you’re not supposed to, and in return, I’ll leave your bits alone. As best as I can.”

Park Jimin stutters in response, and your first, knee jerk reaction is to recoil in disgust at the utter cluelessness, bordering upon idiocy, that presents itself on your face. Every single bit of you hates the fact that he’s now in control of your body, from everything to facial expression to speech and action.

“How is that fair? Your body is absolutely off limits and mine isn’t?” Park Jimin moves to fold his arms across his - your chest, but freezes in place when you shoot him a warning glare for daring to move his- your - arms that near your breasts.

“How is that not fair, Park? I can’t walk around the castle when your pants are blown up. You nasty boys always have to jerk off at least twice a day. If I don’t touch that tiny little carrot stick of yours, I won’t be able to function properly.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows, a slow smirk that looks eerily familiar spreading across your face, fully intent on making some kind of innuendo. “Oh, so you’re willing to touch my little carrot stick, then? How generous of you.”

You realise you set yourself up for that one, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“I- I didn’t mean it like that!” You hiss at him in annoyance, running your hands through your hair in exasperation only to stop short when your fingers glide through his silky platinum locks without resistance. “Oh, and you’ll have to get dressed with your eyes closed too.”

Jimin leans against the side of your wardrobe with a teasing smile, and it still disconcerts you to see his mannerisms upon your face. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but he finds it quite fun to tease and banter with you in the face of this predicament.

“Didn’t realise you were such a prude, ___.” He drops the title of professor in front of your name which causes you to raise a brow. “Never let a man see you naked before? Or has a man never touched that body of yours either?”

“That is,” you spit out, “None. Of. Your. Business.”

Jimin could get used to this, really, seeing his body move in such an unfamiliar manner, and being forced to rethink his every action in a similar way as well. He supposes it’s an inevitable part of an accidental body switch between opposite genders, since the basic differences in muscle and bone mass construction forces males and females to move differently. This morning when he woke up, he wasn’t accustomed to being so much lighter on his feet, and had even stumbled around his room due to the slight change in the centre of gravity that puzzled him to no end until he brought his hands to his suddenly much heavier chest and found out exactly why.

You would not be pleased to know that he’d already groped a handful of your breasts upon waking up this morning.

“How am I supposed to go to the bathroom?” Jimin continues to tease, “or do you want me to piss in your pants?”

A mumble of curses tumbles from your tongue and you squeeze the bridge of your nose, slightly startled to the coarse texture of your new hand. “Just close your damn eyes.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll do it your way, if you want,” Jimin acquiesces easily. “But we need to figure out what happened. Who did this to us or how we became this way.”

You already have an idea of what has occurred but you cannot erase the overwhelming emotion of helplessness. You are lost in a foreign exterior, in absolute distress. If it weren’t for the man standing in front of you, you’d be in complete hysterics. Despite Park Jimin being in your body, shorter in height, smaller than your own frame and your eyes are the one you see, he’s still the same person. He is warm, strangely reliable.

The fear is more bearable with him.

Jimin’s voice is stern and serious, a loss of the previous humourous tone. “If you also don’t trust me and you sincerely want to make an Unbreakable Vow as well, then we need a third party to be the binder. That would mean letting one more person know about this…slightly embarrassing situation. Someone who has less of an obligation than I do to keep this under wraps.”

Jimin doesn’t know when he’d become this eloquent, and cunning even, if he does say so himself. He’d like to attribute this to being in your body, and not that he’s actually thinking like a Slytherin would, Merlin forbid. He watches the realisation dawn on his own face with a slight fascination, wondering just how his facial features could look so familiar yet different at the same time.

“...Alright,” you agree reluctantly, running your hands through his hair again, and honestly, Jimin has never been more entranced. He doesn’t usually have the habit of playing with his hair like that. He supposes it’s your unique habit, but that simple action alone is enchanting when it’s you in his body. “We need to tell the Headmaster, at least.”

“That would be a good idea.” As he turns around, ready to strut out the door, a thought hits him like a freight train. “Oh no.”

You’re immediately on alert, halting on your toes before you can bump into your own body’s backside. “What?”

There’s nothing else that could possibly go wrong.

“Jeongguk is out of the castle.” The realization dawns on you as well and a groan leaves your parted mouth. He’s out at some meeting at the Ministry of Magic, remember? I-I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Jimin forces his voice to remain stable, the thought of switching bodies with you for an extended period of time causes him to become nervous. There’s a full minute of silence where you spend staring at each other, or rather, your own face. It contorts and you can quite literally see how Jimin is craning his brain. You forgot your face had such a wide range of emotions. Usually, you’d paint over a facade of calmness or appear blank, making it even more frightening to the students who try to speak to you.

“Are you suggesting that we-”

“There’s no other choice. We shouldn’t disclose this to anyone until we can talk to him.” Jimin doesn’t know how he’ll do it. “In the meantime, I’ll have to teach Potions….I’ll have to act as the Head of the Slytherin house.”

Jimin is a literal sheep in wolf’s clothing.

The thought of being with Hufflepuffs and dealing with plants all day is already beginning to give you a headache. “Do you even know how? I mean this is...I-..” You’re at a loss for words.

“We can do it.” He reassures you with a smile that’s meant more to ease you than for his own display of mirth. “I’ll try my best. And if it’s you, I know you can.”

“O-Okay.” You’re surprised at how confident he is in your abilities. It’s flattering and sends a disarray of emotions that you can’t organize into your stomach. Your temples are beginning to pound and you despise Jimin for making you this way while being thankful that he’s with you at the same time.

You curse the fate that has somehow made this possible. Fate or rather a student.

“U-uhm, can you tell me where all your stuff is? We should get down to breakfast, and we should get dressed if we don’t want to be late and arouse suspicion.” Jimin awkwardly skirts around your wardrobe, giving you plenty of space to maneuver around the room.

You realise that for this to work, despite how embarrassing this entire ordeal is, you’d have to really set your shoulder to the wheel and merely do it. Hence, you open all your drawers to show him where everything is, skimming over your underwear briefly as Jimin intently soaks in all the information.

To his credit, Park Jimin is the ultimate gentleman, even averting his eyes when you realize you’d accidentally left a stray pair of underwear in the corner of your room. When you’re done orientating him to the basic layout, he motions for you to follow him across the hallway and down the staircase to his own room.

You’re more relieved than you would ever admit when you realize that the morning routine for Jimin is infinitely simpler. Everything is straightforward, quicker to explain. He’s done in just a few short minutes, standing awkwardly at the door to his own room. He never thought that from your height and eyes, all the objects would look a lot larger.

Jimin has always been one of the shorter male professors around and within his group of friends as well but standing beside you, who’s in his body, it makes him realize that he’s quite tall and his frame isn’t small in comparison. He wonders what it would feel like if he was able to envelope you in a tight embrace, if you would be swallowed up his torso…if he would ever be able to return to his own flesh and have the opportunity to do so.

Jimin’s not sure he would be able to let you go.

“So, um… see you at breakfast?” He asks hesitantly, and scratches the back of his neck. The tension has risen, though not one of hostility. You simply nod in reply, feeling much too unfamiliar in your new body to throw out your usual sarcastic bite.

“See you at breakfast.”

The door closes, and you’re left all alone in Park Jimin’s room.

*//*

Park Jimin has never considered himself to be much of a womanizer - but perhaps he should have been, because then he wouldn’t have this much trouble getting a bra on. Then again, if he remembers correctly, bras are much easier to take off than to put on...so there’s also that.

With the additional rule that he has to keep his eyes closed, trying to clasp the back hooks of your bra is made infinitely more challenging than he ever thought it could be, and his sore arm muscles are begging him for a break. He muses that there should be a spell for this sort of thing, a charm of some sort. It would also be a lot easier for him to peel back his lids but the Hufflepuff Head of House would feel too guilty to do so. Without the Unbreakable Vow, he has promised you with the deepest part of his heart instead and feels the need to respect your wishes. Thus, the struggle ensues.

A knock on the door distracts him, and he realises that it’s your voice, throwing him into even more of a frenzy.

Finally, he decides that doing this with his eyes closed is just physically impossible, so he gingerly places his hands over the cups of the bra to make sure your flesh is covered, before opening his eyes and glancing behind him in the mirror to guide his fingers. Success.

Although he can’t help but notice the mustard yellow shade of your bra, and how they sit so nicely and perkily in their - lace - cups.

Huh, he never would have guessed. It actually looks quite nice-

More furious knocking interrupts his thoughts and feeling like a pervert, he hastily tugs on the rest of the clothes you picked out for him and opens the door to his own face.

You give him a once over to make sure everything is perfected before nodding in satisfaction.

“D-did you have any trouble?” You almost want to kick yourself in mortification when you stutter, forcing your expression to remain neutral as you speed up to walk a few paces ahead of him.

“Not really,” Jimin lies, you’re better off not knowing about the small mishap that happened while getting dressed - what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

“Great, and one more thing,” you turn to him briefly, just before entering the Great Hall. “We need to really convince people, alright? That means altering speech, gaits, expressions, all that. Act meaner, Park, I can’t be prancing around Slytherin house singing melodies and lullabies, grinning like an idiotic fool.”

“I do not-” Jimin gasps in indignation, but restrains himself when he sees the slight smirk on (your) his face. “Fine. But that means you have to act nicer, I can’t be stomping around Hufflepuff house looking like I’ve got a broomstick up my ass.”

“Fuck you, Park.” You growl back at him, and the two of you glare at each other for a few heated seconds, before another voice breaks in.

“What are you doing standing out here?” Taehyung seems to appear suddenly out of nowhere. “The longer you wait, the less pancakes there are!”

The two of you jerk away from each other, startled by his sudden presence. For a second you fear that Taehyung might pick up on the way you’re practically oozing with self-assured arrogance in Jimin’s body, and how Jimin looks more than a little awkward while walking in a long dress, but the Divinations Professor only ushers you in without another word.

“There’s something different about you today, Professor ___.”

You take your seat at the long table, unaware that you’ve taken your usual chair instead of Jimin’s. But there are more pressing matters. You internally groan at the way your eyes are widening, something that you would be caught doing and you watch as your mouth opens and closes several times, at a loss of what to say.

“Really?” - is all Jimin manages and you want to facepalm.

“You’re even more beautiful today, Madam.” Taehyung winks as he slowly and seductively peels his banana, taking an agonizingly slow bite of the very top of the fruit. “Is that a new dress robe? It compliments your figure perfectly, if I do say so myself. The sleek black gives a very funeral-sexy vibe.”

His lecherous eyes trail down the front of your sweetheart neckline, and you curse yourself for not choosing the bulkiest sweater in your collection. Your fist clenches in your lap as he continues to ogle your chest, and really, you would have been fine had it been you in your actual body. But watching yourself being drooled over like this is more than uncomfortable, and you resist the urge to smack the Gryffindor Head of House off his seat. It’s especially painful to swallow down your toast when you feel the urge to throw up and you try your best to motion to your body to shut the hell up but Jimin doesn’t see you.

The body that is no longer yours, tips its head to the side and your lashes flutter enticingly at the Divinations Professor in an expert display of the feminine wiles, something you’d never even think of wasting on a fool like Taehyung. “Thank you.”

Taehyung moans loudly in spite of the students sitting meters away. “I love it when you shout at- wait...what?!” It dawns on him and his mouth full of the banana begins to slobber out. He drools and quickly wipes it disgustingly on his robe. “Thank you?!”

You’re gaping at him too and you watch Jimin become bashful, causing your cheeks to become a shade of coral. It’s a sight that makes you want to scream and launch across the table.

“Are you sick or ill? D-do you need to go down to the infirmary, Professor ___?” Taehyung ventures cautiously.

Your grip tightens around your goblet even as you force a pleasant smile upon your face.

“I’m quite healthy, Taehyung, but I appreciate your concern.” Jimin’s eyes finally flicker over to you, finding his own face pale and twisted in complete anger. The kind smile on your face falls and your lips make an ‘o’ shape as Jimin realizes he might’ve fucked up. All you see is the colour of red, and it’s not because of Taehyung, and your fingers itch to snatch the wand in your pocket, to hex these two boys all the way round the world and back.

For a split of a second, as Jimin is gazing at you through your own eyes, you swear that a smirk pulls on the corner of his mouth. Your eye- Jimin’s twitches.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to apologize to you for my behaviour as of late...” Your voice is suddenly low and smooth. Jimin uses your body and leans in closer to the Gryffindor who has stopped eating all together to stare. “I’ve been unnecessarily rude to you in the past and it’s because I’ve been...frustrated.”

“Oh.” Taehyung is at an absolute loss, unable to wrap his mind of what’s happening. If only he knew that it was Jimin and not you. “Have you now?”

Don’t do it.

You try to send a telepathic message to the Hufflepuff, your hands are shaking in your lap and a muscle in your cheek is having a spasm as you try to maintain control. Jimin’s eyes flicker to yours and he has the audacity to lay his hand up high on Taehyung’s thigh.

“I just wish there was a way for me to alleviate my stress...riding something…” Your voice drips with honey, “a broomstick just isn’t thick enough.”

Park Jimin, that little fucking bitch. That sleazy greaseball is becoming sneakier than a Slytherin, and you’re not too sure how you feel about that.

Taehyung gulps. You clear your throat obnoxiously loud, speaking in such a rumbling timbre that you didn’t know Jimin’s vocal chords were capable of. “I think that’s enough, Professor ___.”

The two of them completely ignore you.

“You know,” Taehyung whispers in your ear that’s really Jimin’s, “I’ve always wanted to call you mistress instead of madam.”

The Gryffindor Head of House wonders if he’s in a dream, maybe he passed out on his desk after drinking too much butterbeer. There’s no reason for you to be fulfilling every single one of his fantasies right now unless he’s dead and is in the afterlife.

Jimin whips his head, meeting Taehyung’s face and a millimeter away from his lips. “I would love that.”

This is unbelievable.

One minute, Jimin acts completely innocent and naive. He couldn’t hurt a fly or shout at a student. He radiates kind gentleness, too soft and pure for his own good. The next, he’s hiding his discreet smirk, mischievous and basking in your humiliation. It’s as if he’s trying to take his revenge, let you get a taste of your own poisonous venom.

“That’s enough!” You stand up from your chair and the strong reverberating voice captures the attention of the entire Great Hall. All the students and professors have turned to you in utter shock, unable to believe their eyes and ears that the infamously benevolent Hufflepuff would ever raise his voice or seethe in anger. You instantly realize your mistake. “I-”

“You’re absolutely right!” The vocal chords that boom are the ones you recognize as yourself. Jimin stands up in your body, “Herbology is as an important of a subject as Potions. I’m sorry for disregarding it and the Hufflepuff house.”

You can’t believe your own lips have uttered that aloud to every witch and wizard that Herbology is as valuable as your precious Potions. But everyone in the room seems to turn away when they understand it was a mere debate or another one of the banters that you usually share.

You’ll admit that Jimin saved you there.

Taehyung is confused. “What?”

You lower yourself down to meet his eyes. Typically, Taehyung thinks of Jimin as his best buddy, perfect if he wanted to sneak in a few butterbeers between classes here and there. But today there’s something slightly off about him, his dark grey eyes practically oozing with a dark aura that’s oddly familiar somehow. For the first time in his life Taehyung feels a shred of fear upon looking into the Hufflepuff’s eyes, and that’s when it strikes him, the look reminds him of-

“You will never speak of this conversation and you will never call ___ by the name of mistress again. If you do, I’ll turn you into a pigeon and roast you over a fire. Is. That. Clear.” You practically hiss at him, eyes narrowing into slits to make sure you get your point across.

Taehyung looks at Jimin’s face, then to you, then back at Jimin’s. He scratches the top of his head. “Did something happen to the two of yo-”

“Nope.” Any trace of aggression or malice immediately vanishes, and you grin cheerfully at him in a manner befitting of the Hufflepuff whose body you’re inhabiting. “I had a nice chat with you but I have to get ready for class now. Have a good day, Professor Kim!”

You have to quite literally drag Jimin out of there.

“What the fuck was that?!”

He smiles sheepishly but when you continue to glare daggers at him, he grows serious. It feels intimidating to have a shadow looming over him and he wonders if you’re merely so unpleasant all the time in order to protect yourself, a shield of some sort. “Did I go too far?”

A sigh leaves your mouth that’s really his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation and teased you. I just thought a little humour would lighten things up.”

“You practically sold my body to the greasiest, most revolting male in the castle.”

“Wait, Taehyung isn’t that bad now is he?”

“You have no fucking idea how many times I’ve caught him sucking face with the female professors, that one time he even-”

Jimin cuts off your tirade by taking a step closer to you, going on tiptoe and lifting your smaller hand to brush aside a few wayward strands of silver locks that you didn’t secure in place this morning. Your heart skips a beat at the proximity, and even though you’re in his body now, you’d never realised just how tall Jimin is, always brushing him off as one of the shorter professors in comparison to, say, Namjoon or even Headmaster Jeon himself. And from this angle you realise just how broad his chest is, such that you look positively tiny by comparison. You blink slowly at him, watching as a slow smile spreads across your own face occupied by Jimin, and you never thought you’d be capable of radiating such kindness.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You barely stutter out when he continues to run his fingers down over your cheek.

“Hmm?” Jimin flicks his gaze to you, and there’s a teasing lilt to his voice. “Oh, just checking if you shaved this morning. Looks like you didn’t. You didn’t think I was trying to flirt with you, by any chance?”

“N-no, of course not!! That’s absurd, Professor-”

Your pupils divert as you feel your cheeks begin to heat up but they land on a flash of yellow. There’s a figure hidden behind a pillar. Jimin turns around to see what has made your mouth drop and what you’re staring at-

It’s Seokjin?

“Get back here, brat!” His deep timbre that shakes the walls has returned and you unknowingly push Jimin out of the way, unable to measure your strength and causing your body to stumble back. You don’t pay any mind, marching down the hall and the Hufflepuff student takes off running.

You begin to chase him and Jimin tails you.

“Get back here this instant!”

The first year boy is rather nimble.

“It’s not my fault!” He screeches at the top of his lungs, darting between the other students who gasp at the sight of two professors chasing a child. Seokjin is crying hysterically, eyes filled with tears and unable to see where he’s going. It’s the type of hysterical sob that would lead one to believe a family member has died, his tears and saliva and running nose mixing to drip down his chin. “It wasn’t me!” He hiccups, “i-it wasn’t me!”

Jimin didn’t realize how much energy it takes to run with your legs. And just how fucking breezy skirts are, he has to slow down considerably in order to keep the fabric from flying up and flashing the entire castle, somehow he doesn’t think you’d be too appreciative of that.

In contrast, the superior agility in Jimin’s bones prove to be effective. It takes less than two minutes for you to snag the Hufflepuff’s collar, dragging him upwards by his robes. “Y-you…” You huff and puff, “are in big...big trouble, young man.”

Seokjin cries harder when it occurs that his Head of House is holding him up in the air. The once kind professor that showered him in compliments and constantly asked if he was adjusting well is now shaking him like he’s a rag doll, eyes blazing in animosity.

Jimin manages to catch up and he’s in much worse condition than you are. You’ve never been happier to switch bodies considering how unfit you are. “P-put him down, ___.”

The Hufflepuff continues to cry when his feet touches the ground. He shakes his head and for a second, you fear that he might pass out. “I-I can’t be expelled! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

The hallway has completely cleared out, no soul or even ghost wanting to stick around when it’s you that’s sprinting down with your emerald robes swishing the air. Little do they know that the current Hufflepuff Head of House is more to fear.

“Listen to him…” Jimin manages through steadying breaths.

It didn’t make sense for Seokjin to harm the two of you. There had to be something more. The older man knew the younger too well to know that he’s not capable of doing such things.

He crouches down to meet the eleven-year old’s height and your eyes are crinkled with unusual tenderness. Seokjin tenses up when he sees that it’s you, the Slytherin but he strangely feels calm. “You won’t get expelled. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

Jin nods and takes a full inhale through his mouth, exhaling through his nose. He nods and focuses his eyes onto your face rather than Jimin’s twitching eyes that are really your own.

“You won’t get expelled. I can make you that promise.”

You immediately protest, “But-”

Jimin sends you a sharpened glare that reminds you of the typical expression you wear. You seal his lips together and he continues speaking in a quiet voice. “You won’t be. I’ll do everything in my power to assure you that.” Seokjin nods along. “Now, what you gave us last night, I need to know what it was and I need to know who it was that did this. Can you help me with that? Me and Professor ___ really need your help right now, Seokjin. You’re the only one who can do this for us.”

Seokjin frowns in confusion when you seemingly refer to yourself twice in that conversation, but he’s in no position to be asking questions. “I….It was a love potion and a third year helped me...Min Yoongi.”

“Fuck.” A laugh leaves Jimin’s mouth and the student jumps, startled, and Jimin turns to glare at you for your use of profanity in front of a student. You tilt his head back, chuckling from the deepest part of his chest. “I knew it.”

Min Yoongi.

You are going to kill him.

*//*

The Headmaster’s office is a circular room with numerous paintings on the wall, each belonging to different Headmasters of the past. On the shelf, the Sorting Hat lays along with numerous other trinkets, records and ancient books, sealed boxes that rumble every so often. There’s a tiny train that rolls on its tracks around the room, puffs of smoke appearing with the sound of a tiny whistle.

But what is most evident is the stacks upon stacks of parchment, towering up to your chin that surrounds the wooden desk. They’re piled up so high that only Jeongguk’s head can be seen from above them, and said Headmaster is currently sporting a very worried frown between his eyebrows as he surveys the situation. When he said he wanted the two of you to exist in harmony, this is certainly not what he meant at all.

He only left for one goddamn meeting. How did things become so wrong?

Seokjin is shaking, though no longer crying and he stares down at his lap. Yoongi is seated next to him, and true to Slytherin fashion, refuses to show even an ounce of weakness, opting to keep his features perfectly neutral instead. But you’ve spent years dealing with wayward students like him, so you see past his facade in an instant, the way he keeps his smart mouth shut when he would usually be asking for permission to leave already.

“Don’t make me use Veritaserum, or I guarantee it will be much more painful than it needs to be,” you threaten while slamming the truth potion on the table. “Tell me. Now.”

Min Yoongi clears his throat, eyes darting from Jimin to your figure, obviously startled that the sweet Hufflepuff Head of House and Herbology professor could sound so sharp and glare at him like his limbs were going to be butchered off. But he reminds himself that this isn’t Professor Park that he’s seeing. It’s you.

“I already told you the truth.” He mumbles quietly, “I used all the ingredients that was listed for Amortentia. I even followed the recipe I found in the book without skipping a single step. It was supposed to be perfect...”

Jimin is leaning against the brick wall, observing the situation and it’s unusual to see your own face entirely unfazed. “Well, it isn’t perfect. Something went wrong!” A deep scream, bordering on hysterical emits from the throat you’re using and Seokjin jolts, almost beginning to sob again. You have to remind yourself to control your emotions and slip your mask of indifference back into place again, only this time it’s so much harder when it’s not your body.

Yoongi flinches from the mere booming volume and again when your fist pounds the surface of the desk. He’s never seen Professor Park’s face contort into such rage before, and it’s beginning to unnerve him.

“Professor Park and I are obviously not in love,” you eye Jimin and he doesn’t make any comments, “so clearly you did something wrong with the procedure or with the ingredients and I need to know what it is.”

“I-I really don’t know what it is, sir-” Yoongi quickly corrects himself, “madam. I swear it on everything I have and my own parent’s lives. I don’t know.”

A rage equivalent to that of a Fiendfyre erupts inside you, and you clench your fists to stop yourself from hexing these stupid little children till they’re unrecognisable. Consequences be damned, these little brats truly deserve this, and more. You might charm them to silence for the rest of their lives. But before you can legitimately lose it, Jimin steps in.

“It’s not your fault.” He says softly and your mouth drops open. What?!

Of course it’s their fault!

The Hufflepuff currently occupying your body continues, oblivious to your indignance. “We, as your professors, should have monitored you more closely. The ingredients were easy to steal and so was the equipment.” You scoff at that and he ignores you, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. We have to punish you for what you’ve done. You could’ve seriously harmed someone and you’ve used magic irresponsibly.”

Seokjin’s tears run down his face. “I’m sorry.” Yoongi shares the same sentiment, apologizing as well, and for once in his life, he looks ashamed.

“You won’t be expelled.” Jimin keeps his promise to the youngest student. “But I’m docking fifty points from each of your houses and for the next three months, after every one of our classes, you have to come help clean up. You will also serve five detentions and have an earlier curfew. There will be no excuses.”

A thankful smile spreads on Seokjin’s face as he nods. Yoongi registers the words and internally weighs them out before he decides that it’s quite lenient for the offence they’ve committed. “Thank you.”

When the students rush out of the room, nearly tripping on their feet, the two of you turn to the Headmaster. He’s in his chair, elbows propped on the desk, hands holding his skull. “What do we do?”

Jeongguk doesn’t respond.

The pair of you exchange a look before you go over, nudging the Headmaster. His head lifelessly falls to the surface and he bangs his forehead on the table. Jimin winces and Jeongguk immediately jolts upwards. “I was listening.”

“Good.” You raise an eyebrow in slight disbelief, but decide to go on anyway. “It would be a shame if our own Headmaster was sleeping and wasn’t paying attention to such an important matter… one that threatens the reputation of Hogwarts itself.”

Jeongguk clears his throat uncomfortably, taking a look at you and then Jimin.

“I can’t deal with this.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t do any of this.” Jeongguk sniffles and wipes his eyes. You cannot believe that the Headmaster might be weeping in front of you. His black hair is completely riled up, sticking in all different directions and his eyes are bloodshot. Jeongguk’s voice cracks in sobbing hysterics. He’s having an emotional breakdown, the stress eating him alive.

“I don’t know how I got this job! Do you know how?! I don’t! They just hired me and lo behold, now I’m sitting here in this office, running the entire castle.” Jeongguk tangles his fingers into his locks. “I don’t know how to do any of this! I don’t know how to fill out the paperwork or where to sign. No one taught me and I didn’t receive any formal training. I think there was a phoenix I was supposed to feed but it’s nowhere to be seen. And I think I need to hire someone to cut the grass outside but I don’t know anything about that either!”

Jimin puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder for comfort. The expression that he wears on your face is calm, collected and kind. On the other hand, you’re rolling your eyes, in disbelief that such a bumbling fool is in charge. Your attitude is a stark contrast for the colour of the robes that you’re wearing.

“I’ll try to figure out something...I’ll figure it out.” Jeongguk slowly nods as he regains composure. “For now, let’s keep it discreet. If it’s exposed, it would be a huge scandal and there’s too much paperwork to file an incident report for the Ministry. We would have to contact the parents of the children involved as well. It’s too much.”

“Okay.” Jimin exchange a mutual nod with you. “That sounds reasonable.”

Jeongguk nods again in agreement, though it seems more to reassure himself than anything else. The room is quiet for a moment, with the Headmaster himself deep in thought before he jolts upright in his seat, bright doe eyes coming to rest on Jimin’s body, before belatedly realising and glancing at the right figure instead.

“Hey wait, come to think of it… you’re the Potions Master here, ___. Aren’t you the most qualified candidate for this?” Jeongguk seems all too pleased with himself as his shoulders begin to relax. He supposes this is why the Ministry appointed him- for his sharp wit and intellect, if nothing else. “You should be able to handle this on your own just fine.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation, you resist the urge to roll your eyes at the Headmaster’s gross oversimplification of the situation. “I don’t know what was in there. I can’t do anything if I don’t know every single detail of that concoction. If I try to whip something up, I could kill the both of us.”

“Oh… I see,” Jeongguk seems to deflate again, but he stands from his seat and heads for the rows and rows of bookshelves aligning his office with what seems like a renewed vigour. For a second, you suppose he might pull a book from his shelf with some ancient remedy, or even suggest looking in the Restricted Section of the library.

But the Headmaster only grins at you. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually, Ms. ___. You’re the best Potions Master Hogwarts has ever had, after all.”

And then he claps his hands and disappears with a dark ‘poof’ before the two of you can even protest.

For a second, you’re left staring at the empty space that he occupied just seconds ago, with increasing disbelief that only serves to fuel your rage. At this point, your hit list of witches and wizards is growing so rapidly that you briefly consider becoming the next Dark Lord.

Jimin only shrugs at you with that incessant smile still on your face.

*//*

There’s nothing to do but to accept the situation. You literally have no other choice.

You still have to attend class, there are other professors and students to meet, and you can’t spend your entire day cooped up in the classroom to mess with potions. The love potion antidote failed and Polyjuice was only but a temporary fix that wasted too much time and ingredients. The second trial of potions you gave to Jimin made him hiccup for two hours. The next ones made caused you sit on the toilet the entire night, another antidote turned invisible and the most recent batch caused his- your voice to resemble a mouse’s.

You swear he’ll never let you live this one down, Jimin just about had a field day teasing you and calling you cute. Which you are most definitely not.

It takes more effort than you thought it would to act like Jimin all the time, it just isn’t natural, and it’s not you. You can’t help but go about your day feeling like an utter imposter, truly in someone else’s shoes, and constantly worrying if your actions are up to par or not.

“Merlin, I’m so fucking exhausted,” you collapse onto the desk after the last student has trickled out of yet another one of your combined classes with Jimin. “I think I’ve worn out my ‘nice’ quota for the rest of my life.”

Jimin is currently halfway across the room, tidying up a mess that one of the students made. “Looks like you’re gonna have to be naughty for the rest of your life then.”

His innuendo makes you chuckle, and you reach for a quill to toss at his head, not really intending on hitting him. You watch him make his rounds to make sure everything’s back in their rightful place, and it strikes you just how selfless he is. He must be as tired as you are, more so because he’s currently inhabiting your incredibly unfit body, but not one single complaint have you heard from him.

As if it doesn’t haunt you enough to be in Park Jimin’s body, you have to sleep in each other’s respective beds. Awake or asleep, you’re constantly surrounded by him and his belongings. His sheets and covers smell like him, freshly cut grass and the lingering scent of flowers. It reminds you of the pumpkin pastry that started all this and you scorn yourself for not detecting it beforehand.

A second flickers in your mind for a mere moment...that perhaps Min Yoongi’s love potion didn’t fail after all.

You shake your head with a strangled moan, rubbing your temples to dissipate the thumping headache. It seems like no matter what body you occupy, you’re always prone to anxiety and stress.

“We can make this work,” Jimin assures you in a sickeningly sweet voice that you can’t believe is your very own. “You’re doing fine, ___.”

It doesn’t bother you as much anymore when he doesn’t attach any titles to your name. It almost sounds nice to hear him call you in such a straightforward manner.

The Hufflepuff plops a steaming hot cup of tea in front of you, a tiny lotus flower floating at the surface and specks of glitter dancing above the mixture. When you stare at it suspiciously, he sheepishly smiles. “It’s to help with the strain.”

You nod, bringing it to Park Jimin’s pink lips and taking a sip. Instantly, the warm liquid quenches your thirst and elevates the pressure off of your chest. You blink, feeling lighter than before.

“You know, you need to stop frowning all the time. You’ll give me wrinkles.” Jimin giggles and moves his hand upwards. You start to pull away, but his finger finds the scrunch between your brows, poking at them and you relax. He pulls back and smiles again. “It’s kind of strange looking at me from your eyes.”

“I know what you mean.” You take another sip. “It feels like I’m talking to my reflection but I know it’s you inside.”

His little grin turns into a smirk. “I never knew I was this handsome. Is that why you’re always so on edge? Are you afraid of falling in love with me?”

“Please.” A scoff leaves your mouth but a tiny smile soon takes its place. “If anything, I’m surprised about how gorgeous I am. But I never knew my skin was so bad and my nose...” You’re allowing yourself to ramble on, spilling your deepest insecurities without a second thought and your hand raises to poke the nose on your face but Jimin catches your wrist. You realize your hands are much smaller than his despite having made fun of his fingers before, but it doesn’t sink in when you’re startled from the movement.

“Trust me, you look fine the way you are. More than fine, actually.”

His sincerity causes you to slowly pull away. Jimin snickers at your flustered reaction, the dim light of his desk lamp casts a warm glow onto your skin and he basks in the intimate moment. Never in his life would he dream of you sitting so close to him in his own office. Even if being in your body is rather peculiar, he enjoys the seconds as they pass.

You shift slightly under his scrutiny. Being in such close proximity with him has you a little nervous, and his intent gaze fixed on you isn’t helping either. You clear your throat to diffuse the tension.

“Anyway, we have another problem. We need to take over each other’s classes, and we both know you can’t go a single minute without smiling, and I can’t help but terrorize any living being wearing the colour yellow.”

“That’s easy. Act more Hufflepuff,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “And by that I don’t mean prancing around or singing Christmas carols,” he narrows his gaze into slits when you open your mouth to tease him, a gesture that looks eerily at home on your own face. “Just try and understand others more, put yourself in their shoes before you do anything.”

A pout appears and he wishes that he could see it on your own face. But if Jimin concentrates hard enough, he can look past the appearance and your own body manifests in front of him. The power of imagination has sometimes been more powerful than magic itself.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“For starters, when you speak with a student, you should be gentle with them and be tolerant. You should answer any questions they have and ask if they need help.” Jimin seems to be enjoying your obvious torment, the expressions of disgust that flicker on your features. When you ask him what happens if the children are simply incompetent, he shrugs. “You should help them anyways. Patience and kindness are Hufflepuff qualities.”

“Basically, before I do anything at all, I have to think ‘what would Park Jimin do’?”

“Exactly.”

You let out a short burst of laughter that for once, isn’t rooted in mockery or maliciousness. The very thought of constantly having Park Jimin on your mind is strangely not as revolting as you would have thought it to be, but you get where he’s coming from.

“Well I guess it’s a good strategy. I’m gonna need way more than just ambition if I’m supposed to be that dedicated, hardworking and compassionate all day.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise it, and they aren’t even uttered in a tone that could be considered ridiculing or condescending. You realise that you actually mean it, and the traits you’d just listed were ones that you’ve always associated Park Jimin with, be it subconsciously or not.

“And… what about me?” Jimin seems a little hesitant, and maybe it’s because you’re reading your own facial expressions, but he looks more than a little scared at the thought of having to handle a class full of Slytherins on his own.

“You obviously need to be a lot more strict, I don’t cut anyone any slack. It doesn’t matter to me if my students like me or not, I just want them to take their lessons seriously so that they can become better students.”

Jimin hums in thought as he takes in your advice, and a sudden thought occurs to him: you and him aren’t too different after all. Both of you just want the best for the children, and beneath that prickly, stone cold exterior lies something that is all too vulnerable.

“We don’t live on other people’s terror, you know,” your voice softens when you take in the pensive expression on his face. “Slytherins aren’t evil. We only like to test and challenge the boundaries to see how much we can get away with. As long as you’re firm with them, you’ll be fine.”

That’s as far as you’ll go before outrightly admitting that you think he’ll do well.

“Right. So, resourcefulness, ambition and a cunning personality.” He names the typical Slytherin characteristics but as he stares at you, his voice becomes softer. “Being clever, a leader, having determination….appearing immaculate without even trying.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he’s begun to list your own specific traits. You nod to reaffirm his beliefs. “Imagine what an authoritarian ruler would do.”

“You mean like Jeon Jeongguk?” A giggle escapes from your own lips as Jimin tilts his head back in laughter. “Word has it that he’s a Slytherin, you know.”

“Never,” you find a smile tugging at the corner of your lips in response. “He’d be kicked out within a day.”

Jimin’s laughter takes a while to subside, you find yourself admiring the way he makes you look so genuinely happy and carefree, a side of yourself you’ve scarcely seen recently.

“And anyway, who knows,” you nudge him lightly, “maybe you’ll find my style to be better.”

Without contemplating, he throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you closer. It feels strange to have your own limb wrap around your body that’s much larger and the illusion of speaking to Jimin like he’s in his own body shatters. Still, you feel oddly comfortable.

“Maybe, you’ll grow to be a better Hufflepuff than I am.”

“I highly doubt that.” You give him a wry laugh in response, “try your best not to pee your pants, Park.”

“Will do.”

Writers notes: This was a collab with the wonderful writer, @dovechim so make sure to send her an abundant of messages and love! Check out her masterlist and other works too!! The next and final part will be released over on her blog!

CO-WRITTEN WITH @dovechim

[moonlitjiminn]

Silver and Gold Beads | Taehyung, You

Scenario is dedicated to my beautiful friend @kurrrzurrr (I LOVE YOU MIA AND I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS)

Distance means so little when someone means so much

You were trying hard not to let your nerves get the best of you, but as you listened to Wild by Tiffany Gouche for the fifth time that evening, with the rest of your dance crew it was becoming all too real. Tomorrow was the day. The day you finally got to dance in your dream arena, to the choreography you had all been practicing for over a year with the twenty strangers who had become your closest friends in the span of that year.

“Mia?” a quiet voice interrupted your thoughts and you turned to the source.

“Yeah?” you shook your head, “Sorry, I’m just too excited.”

Your friend cheesed a smile, “Me too! I can’t believe the day’s here already!” she leaned in closer, “Is the boyfriend coming?”

Your smile fell. Taehyung was currently in America for their tour and so couldn’t make it. But it was okay, you understood.

It would be a lie, however, if you said you weren’t upset about it.

“I told you,” you smiled, showing your friend that it didn’t really phase you, “He has his tour.”

“Okay listen up!” your team leader announced from the other side of the circle, “I have something to say.”

When everyone was done talking, he stood up.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m so proud of each and every single one of you…” and with that beautiful pre-concert speech, the void that Taehyung’s absence had was suddenly filled. “We have all worked so hard to get to where we are, enduring countless injuries, spending numerous hours a day practicing and crying oceans of tears to this day. You owe it to yourselves to go out there tomorrow and do your best. The hardest part is already over, let’s just go out and have fun!”

“Mia, I miss you so much,” your needy boyfriend whined on the phone once the dinner with your crew was over and you were back home getting ready to sleep.

You grinned, washing your face, “I miss you too honey,” laughing at his clinginess, “How was your day?”

“Well, Namjoon hyung forgot one of his lines in Airplane, Seokjin accidentally danced to verse 2 during verse 1 in Anpanman, Jungkook forgot he was meant to be harmonising with me but there weren’t any other mistakes really.”

“Thanks for the update, Tae.”

“You’re very welcome,” you heard him shuffling around before he settled finally, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes! Tae you have no idea how excited I am,” you rolled over to your other side on bed.

“You have no idea how much I want to be there to see you kill the stage, Mia.”

You grinned, “No, Tae, I do know, and it’s okay, I told you, it’s really okay.”

“Tae! Can you hurry up and shower so I can use the bathroom! We gotta leave for the interview in half an hour!” you heard Jimin’s muffled voice through the receiver.

“Okay, you get back to your thing honey, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

He groaned, “I want to keep talking to you,” you could hear the pout in his tone.

“I know, Tae, but we both have huge days coming up, let’s rest and talk later okay?” You always found yourself having to become the rational one when it was between you two, someone had to be right? But you loved it, knowing that he wanted to spend as much time with you as you did.

“Okay, fine, good luck for your concert tomorrow Mia, although you won’t need it,” that made you giggle, “Love you!”

“Love you too Tae, make sure you get heaps of rest after all your interviews, okay!”

“Yes Ma’am,” his voice was stern and that was you cue to hang up.

You turned to the ceiling. Tomorrow. It’s finally coming.

--

“Pass me the bobby pins!” someone yelled over the background music.

“Did you find Tracey’s shoes? She said she left it in the dressing room,” another voice.

“Get me the new sets of liquid lipsticks, will you?” You smiled down at your phone; you loved the atmosphere in here, although it was busy, everyone was happy, and everyone was laughing. And besides, you were also excited to see a new message from your boyfriend.

Taehyung: Hey Mia, how’s prep for tonight going?

“Mia your hair is not listening to me today,” your stylist told you, picking at it.

You laughed, “When does it ever listen to you? You always seem to get it to work though.”

Mia: Good! I’m getting my hair done right now :)

His reply was almost instant.

Taehyung: Please send pictures when you’re done! I want to see your outfit!

Mia: Of course Tae

“Can you just hold this up for me hun?” you looked up at the mirror to see your stylist holding a piece of your hair out for you.

Putting your phone down, you held it like she told you.

Before you knew it, your look was stage ready, and you were getting organised to get on stage. When you went back to get your phone from where you had left it on the dressing table, you couldn’t find it there.

“Hey, do you know where my phone is? I left it here but it’s not there anymore,” you asked one of your friends in your dance group and they nodded their head to a box in your leader’s hands.

“Hyung collected them all, it should be in there.”

“Thanks!”

Skipping over to your leader, you wanted to ask for your phone to quickly snap a photo of you in your costume to send to Taehyung before you got all sweaty and disgusting.

But that was when you were called for stage.

“Mia! Where the heck ar-” you looked up to see someone running through the hallways looking for you, “There you are, c’mon let’s go, your set is up in a minute.”

You sighed, guess Taehyung will have to suffice with the group photos you took before.

Almost immediately, you were thrown onto stage, your song playing in the background and your members getting into position. Before you followed, however, you couldn’t help yourself when you quickly took a peek at the audience. The whole arena was full, glow sticks and wrist bands illuminating the crowd.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t get teary eyed at the sight.

Almost two years in the making, all your hard work was about to be on display for thousands of people.

You didn’t get to indulge in your thoughts for too long, however, as it was finally time to start dancing.

--

It was now time for your fourth (and final) dance set and this was the one where you were to dance on the extra stage which went into the audience.

However, when you were walking to the centre stage, something you saw caught your eye.

“You know pink doesn’t look good on me!” Taehyung whined, taking the cap off his head.

You pouted, trying really hard to make him feel guilty.

“Baby, I spent two days making this!”

Taehyung bit his lip, looking at the cap, ‘Mia’s number one fan!’ bejewelled with silver and gold beads on the top, two strips of black and white cloth clipped to the back of it. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s gorgeous.”

You could hear the lie right through his teeth.

“I just don’t think pink suits me,” he pinched your cheek, “Also, I wouldn’t be able to wear this anywhere, it would attract too much attention.”

Your eyes were bored as you replied, “Kim Taehyung you better take this cap and wear it right now-”

He sighed, caving and taking the cap. Putting it on his head, he looked to you, “Happy?”

You grinned, taking his face in your hands, “You’re my number one fan.”

“You know, it would be perfect to wear this to one of your concerts,” he looked down, “If I could ever go to one.”

You bent down, trying to put yourself in his field of vision, lifting his head up, “Doesn’t matter where you are, whenever I perform, you’re right there with me, every second of it. So don’t feel bad okay? I love you and I know you want to be there, besides, there’s always video.”

“It’s so much better seeing you live though,” he sighed. “I’m such a bad boyfriend I’ve never seen you perform at all.”

“Oh shush, it’s not like I’ve been to a Bangtan concert either.”

He looked up to you, “Wait, what?”

“Oh no,” your eyes widened, and you hopped off his lap, “I think someone just called me.”

Squinting your eyes to the cap in front of you, you realised you weren’t hallucinating and it really did say ‘Mia’s number one fan’ in silver and gold beads.

The head lifted, and your guess was right.

There he was.

Kim Taehyung, beaming right up at you.

You almost tripped, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Quickly looking away, you tried to keep your composure, willing for the next seven minutes of your routine to zip past quick so you could run back stage and to your boyfriend.

Luckily you were able to focus on your dance for the remainder of it, catching glimpse of Taehyung here and there, the proud smile on his face as he watched you never leaving.

When the dance was over, your whole group did their bows and final waves to the audience before you finally sprinted back, changing your shoes, throwing another member’s hoodie over your shirt and getting out of there.

As soon as you opened the door, however, you crashed into someone.

“I’m so so-” when you looked up, you cut yourself off, seeing Hoseok – one of Taehyung’s band mates – standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers.

“Hey!”

He grinned, “Mia! Just the girl we wanted to see.”

“We?”

That was when a head popped around Hoseok’s own, and another, and another, before all seven heads were in your view.

“What are you all doing here?” you laughed, finding the tears start to well in your eyes again.

“We came to watch you dancing, isn’t that obvious?” Jungkook, the youngest, said, a-matter-of-factly.

You reached forward, hugging every member one by one, until they all just gave you a group hug instead.

“Okay now that that’s over,” Yoongi interrupted the hug, “We’re gonna leave Taehyung with you while we go and check out the displays.”

“What displays? No I wanted to talk to Mia-” Jungkook was dragged away by another member, finally leaving you and Taehyung to yourselves.

“I can’t believe you actually came,” you beamed, and cue the waterworks.

“I couldn’t miss it. God, you were amazing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, even Hoseok and Jimin were in awe, they kept having a go at me for not letting them dance with you before.”

You laughed, “Yeah right, like they want to dance with me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What?”

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” he held your hand, “You’re an amazing dancer, Mia, you actually crushed it out there tonight, I can’t believe I’d been missing all your performances, I missed out on a lot.”

Your laughter (and tears) wouldn’t stop.

“You’re a better dancer though.”

“How would you know,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “You’ve never been to one of my concerts.”

Laughing, you unwound his arms and wrapped them around you, “But was I really that good?”

He looked down, pointing at his hat, “I really am your number one fan.”

You chuckled, “You still have that thing.”

“Well yeah, I knew you were gonna give me an earful if I threw it away.”

“Why would you throw it away?!” you stiffened up, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Yeah, exactly, that’s what I meant,” he rolled his eyes, “Come here.”

Smiling, you leant into his embrace, “This is the perfect way to reunite after all this time,” sniffing, you held him tighter, “Man I missed you.”

“I think I missed you more, seeing as I actually got on a plane to come and see you.”

“Are you being salty right now?” you gasped, bending back from him.

“Shh, shh,” he hushed you, pulling you back into his arms, “Don’t ruin the moment.”

[emerald-equ1nox]

Décalcomanie || 8

Summary: He needed a job done and the only people who could do it hated each other. Well as they say, you have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.

Series Trigger Warnings: violence, cursing, drinking, smut in later chapters

“Sir!” Yoongi exclaimed, standing up straight. The boss stood before him, dressed much more casually than usual. “Come in!” Yoongi stepped aside, allowing the older man to walk in.

“Where’s my daughter?” The boss asked, glancing around the room.

“In the bedroom, I’ll go get her.” Yoongi hurried into the bedroom. He began to shake (Y/N) awake. “Hey, get up.”

“I already told you, I’m sleeping,” (Y/N) mumbled irritably.

“Your father is here.”

“What?!” (Y/N) sat up abruptly. “Why?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Get dressed Min, hurry.”

“What?”

“Get dressed!” (Y/N) got out of bed and hurried to her side of the closet. She pulled out a blue blouse and some jeans before grabbing her bra and practically running into the en suite. Yoongi shook his head before also grabbing clothes. He slid a white henley off of a hanger and pulled a pair of black jeans out of a drawer. He changed quickly, running a hand over his hair as (Y/N) exited the bathroom. “Okay, we look presentable. Good.”

“Are you scared of your father?”

“What? No!”

“You sure about that?”

“Very.” Yoongi hummed. “C’mon.” The two exited the bedroom and met the boss in the living room. “Dad, what’s brought you here?”

“How’s it going so far?” the boss asked curtly.

“Good, we’ve just infiltrated their gang.”

“Just? I expected it to happen sooner.”

“Yes sir but-“

“No buts, you two are supposed to be the best yet you took almost two weeks to infiltrate them. Why?” Yoongi watched as (Y/N) shrunk back.

“It was my fault sir, I was worried it’d be a trap.”

“They aren’t smart enough for that.” Yoongi’s hands clenched into fists at that. These people deserved more credit than was given to them. The boss continued to berate (Y/N), making her shrink back continuously.

“They deserve more credit,” Yoongi piped up.

“What?” the boss asked.

“They deserve more credit. They ambushed us one night, eight against two.”

“Eight?”

“They brought their boss. They almost shot (Y/N).”

“Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

“Because you’d overreact!” (Y/N) snapped. “You always do! First you act like you couldn’t give a shit about what happens to me and then suddenly you’re all worried!” With a sigh, (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair. “Leave, please.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Leave, now.” The boss looked between the two.

“I’ll have Namjoon contact the two of you.” Without anything further, the boss left. There was silence for awhile before Yoongi spoke up.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

“Great,” (Y/N) said. She turned and walked back into the bedroom. The door closed loudly and Yoongi sighed. He made his way to the bedroom slowly, stopping before the closed door. The sound of (Y/N)’s body hitting the mattress met his ears. There was silence before (Y/N) spoke again. She was obviously on the phone as she said a small hello. “Unnie, I wanna go home.” There was a slight pause before she continued. “It’s my dad, he’s doing it again. Blaming me and berating me for everything.” There was another pause. “It’s been years, why can’t he move past it? Mom’s gone and it was my fault, I accept that and have moved past it. He should too.”

Yoongi stepped away from the door, shaking his head before moving back to the living room. He had never met (Y/N)’s mother, having joined the gang after her death but he had heard enough to know that she had been a motherly figure to everyone. She had practically raised the youngest three, causing them to refer to her as Mom and (Y/N) as their sister. The cause of her death was unknown to Yoongi, everyone refusing to talk about it except to say that it was a tragedy and had sent (Y/N) into a two year long downward spiral that ended with her waking up with a killer headache and no money in a dirty alleyway.

It was hard for Yoongi to imagine what it was like to have a woman like (Y/N)’s mother in his life. Sure, his mom was great and all but she disapproved of Yoongi’s love for music and that had driven a wedge between the two. It was near impossible for Yoongi to imagine his mother being accepting of his music career and especially the path that he had chosen since then. He supposed that the poor relationship between the two of them, or in fact the lack there of, was for the best. If he didn’t talk to his mother then he didn’t have to worry about her. He didn’t have to worry about her becoming a target for people who wanted to hurt him, he didn’t have to worry about someone putting a bullet through her head to get to him. Yes, this distance was for the best.

He had no doubt that the person on the other end of the phone was Moonbyul, one of the only women in the gang and its many branches that (Y/N) ever talked to. Moonbyul, or Byulyi as many called her, was a skilled gunsman and someone Yoongi knew from his days in the underground rap scene. He had played a reluctant hand in recruiting Moonbyul to the gang and still regretted it. She had potential to become a formidable presence in the rap scene but had gotten trapped in this lifestyle the same as the rest of them. Although, as if by the grace of some otherworldly figure, she had landed a job that would span years and incorporated her love of music. She had been planted in a music corporation in order to keep the owner in line and to make sure that he paid his debt to the boss in time.

She was now the main rapper in a girlgroup by the name of Mamamoo and got to live out her dream while simultaneously living a life of crime. And she was damn good at living a double life. It was no surprise to Yoongi that she was able to pull it off. She had been doing it for years. Sneaking around behind her parents’ backs to participate in underground competitions while making it seem to them that she was the perfect daughter who would go on to make a name for herself in the medical field. It was also no surprise that she and (Y/N) had hit it off. They were more alike than many realized. (Y/N) was the type to go out and kill a person to make it seem like she was the perfect mafia daughter but change quickly after and attend the rehearsal of the latest musical she was starring in.

Yoongi had watched at most a quarter of the musicals that she had starred in but that was enough to know that she had a love for the stage instilled deeply within her. According to Taehyung, it was something she had gotten from her mother. The first musical that Yoongi had seen her in was a production of Wicked. The girl on stage was so different than the girl who walked around her father’s building. She was lively and emotive instead of cold and calculated. He supposed that he should have expected it when he heard that she would be in a musical. That was the first time his heart had beaten faster when he saw her. He had always found her pretty but something about the way the lights shone in her eyes and the way she poured her heart and soul into every song made it impossible for him not to feel funny. She was charismatic on stage and the green body paint and slouchy clothes of Elphaba didn’t stop that. Somehow, someway, it intensified it. (Y/N) was passionate and intense and Yoongi had begun to fall head over heels in the span of roughly two hours. Feelings came and went when it came to Yoongi, but this hadn’t. He didn’t think that it’d ever leave, and he wasn’t exactly complaining.

~•~

The sound of a pen clicking roused (Y/N) from her slumber. She rolled onto her right to see Yoongi sitting in front of the small vanity. “What are you doing?” she rasped.

“Grocery list,” Yoongi said simply. “Anything in particular you want?”

“Caffeine.”

“What kind of caffeine, be specific.”

“I don’t care.”

“Coffee it is then.” Yoongi scrawled the word down before standing. “Come with, you need to get out of the house.” It was true. (Y/N) hadn’t left the apartment in days. She was still thinking about her father’s visit and what he had said. She was also thinking about her phone call with Moonbyul. It wasn’t everyday that your best friend told you that she was having trouble with the job that she had been at for years. It also wasn’t everyday that said best friend discussed backing out of the gang that had been her family since her late teen years.

“I don’t feel safe anymore,” Moonbyul had said in a whisper. “It’s like someone’s watching me.” (Y/N) was still wondering if she should go to her father about Byul’s protection. She didn’t need someone to leave her like that, not again. Then again, she knew what her father would say. His voice would become louder, more severe. He’d tell her to get out of her head and that if something happened to Byul then it was her fault, not his. Everything was (Y/N)’s fault, from the loss of her mother to the flowers in the front yard wilting. Not to mention the increased number of people who refused their products. It wasn’t her fault that the people they sold to were beginning to be shipped off to the army. After all, they weren’t taken care of by a man with so much sway over the president that he could get large numbers of men out of mandatory service.

She had proposed that he use his sway over the president to get some of their most loyal clients out of service so that they were in the gang’s debt. He had turned her idea down, called it too risky. He did it four months later when golden boy Min Yoongi proposed the same exact idea. Fucking Yoongi, always on her father’s good side, always his favorite. Her father had always wanted a son, someone to run the immense crime empire when he was gone. When Yoongi had been brought into his office for the first time it was like he had found him, the prodigal son. There was no need for him to start at the bottom like everyone else had, even her. Oh no, he was given a gun and told to take care of a prominent businessman who owed them money. A job that had been promised to (Y/N) the day before. The years since then had been filled with resentment from (Y/N)’s side and a slightly confused anger from Yoongi’s.

(Y/N) was hellbent on gaining control of her father’s gang, whatever she had to do to achieve it. And fuck if she wouldn’t bed her enemy to do it. She wasn’t as drunk as Yoongi had thought that night they went to the club. One of the only good things about being her father’s daughter was that she had an amazing alcohol tolerance, she was barely buzzed when she had propositioned Yoongi. The disappointment that she had faced when he turned her down was immense and her little act had doomed her to feigning drunkenness for the rest of the night. It was nice to feel someone’s hands at her waist however. They had been gentle, almost reverent as they held her in place in front of him. Even when he had ground against her like he was about to fuck her on the dance floor his hands held her gingerly.

“Yo, (Y/L/N),” Yoongi snapped, “you coming or not?” (Y/N) shook her head slightly.

“No.”

“Suit yourself then.” Yoongi made his way out of the apartment and to his car, leaving (Y/N) in bed with her thoughts. They drifted off to her last musical, If/Then. Elizabeth was a challenging character to play what with her alternate timelines, and the musical’s message really put her life into perspective. She wasn’t sure if she had made the best decision, but she had to trust that it’d work out in the end. She had to trust that pursuing her career was the best thing for her in the moment. The feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins when she was onstage was addicting. She supposed that she craved it in the same way that the gang’s customers craved their next high. She craved the love and comradery and recognition that theater brought her. It was a drug of its own.

She didn’t realize that her thoughts had spiraled until she found herself thinking about the times that Yoongi had watched her shows. He had accompanied the boys to her shows on more than one occasion but the most memorable was the night he watched her performance in Wicked. When she had changed and taken off most of the green makeup on her skin, she had met the seven men in the lobby. It wasn’t hard to notice that Yoongi’s eyes followed her as she laughed and talked with the others. She had even caught the way he had moved to shrug his jacket off when she began to shiver as they stood in the parking lot of the theater. She supposed that Yoongi had seen her differently that night, seen that she wasn’t just the boss’ cold, calculated, unfeeling daughter. That revelation was either a blessing or a curse.

After roughly an hour and a half, her phone buzzed with a text from Yoongi. Hey, come help me bring the stuff up, it read. With a heavy sigh, (Y/N) got out of bed and slipped on a pair of flats. She made her way down to the parking lot and to Yoongi’s car. He climbed out, sliding something into his back pocket as he did so. The two made their way to the trunk which Yoongi had popped before climbing out. They began to transport the bags to the apartment in silence. Once they had taken everything inside and put it all up, Yoongi pulled the thing in his back pocket out. He slid it across the counter to (Y/N) with a small smile.

“Thought you’d want this,” he said simply. (Y/N) looked down at it, quickly recognizing the local theater’s logo. It was their schedule for the year. She picked it up and flipped through it. “Personally, I’d recommend auditioning for Gypsy.”

“Why Gypsy?” (Y/N) asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’d do good in it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really.” Yoongi reached over and moved her hair out of her face. “You could play the biggest burlesque star in history.” With a shake of her head, (Y/N) made her way into the bedroom. Yoongi followed behind closely. “We need to go to the club again soon, we can’t be no-shows all the time. We also need to agree on a backstory in case they ask. How we met, how long we’ve been together, things like that.” (Y/N) sat in the middle of the bed.

“I’ve already thought about all of that. We met in our third year of high school, have been dating since our fourth and moved in together just under three years ago. We’re also planning on getting a puppy together.” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow.

“A puppy?”

“Yeah, it’s domestic and shit.”

“You just want a dog.”

“Maybe I do, you got a problem with that?”

“Nope.”