#bookshop yoongi

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (1)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4.3k

— 🍄 summary: hired to look into the mysterious deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, you soon meet a certain gang of oddballs who help you connect the dots. and NO, you are NOT taking a liking to them.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader, cozy small town mystery/addams family vibes, botanist!yoongi, magical absurdity, bookshop owner!namjoon, barista!jin

— 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! directly influenced by this fic on ao3 by tinyratthief, which is loosely based on the addams family.

series m.list/schedule → next chapter

chpt. 1: new digs

september 16, 2004

If this job has taught you one thing, it’s that the laws of truth can and will be bent by anyone with enough concentrated effort. People come to you to find very specific truths; birth parents, cheating spouses, the details of shady business deals.

But if this job has taught you one thing, it's that the truth will also reveal itself to anyone with enough concentrated effort.

Though, there's always a handful of cases that force you to delve deep into things you’d rather leave buried. Like the person in Oregon who didn't show up in any photographs. Or the small town in Maryland with the strange, centuries-old secret society.

You’ve seen sides of human nature that have left you cynical, distrusting. Some have called you “dead inside,” but you’re not here to brag. Naturally, you are excellent at your job.

And when the Mayor of Farrow’s End, a sleepy town with enough missing persons cases to warrant a Netflix documentary, contacted you about a possible case, you accepted almost instantly.

Even her first correspondence and initial offer were strange. She stated a preference to discuss the finer details in person and in person only, which to you immediately suggested that the entire investigation would be a matter of confidentiality.

You were proven right when you met with her a week later. And while being proven right is usually one of your favorite things, you didn’t exactly expect this.

The offer: investigative services regarding (but not limited to) local missing persons/homicides, ecological disturbances, environmental chemical imbalances. etc.

In exchange for: monthly salary, rent support, covered business expenses.

And above all, everything must remain off the books.

The salary along with the rent support is very generous considering what you're used to, but you don’t tell the Mayor that. You do inform her that, while you wear many hats, you are not an ecologist, nor a chemist.

Mayor Summerbee, a middle-aged Asian woman with a sweet smile and even warmer eyes, informs you that you will have access to the local University’s college of natural sciences. She gives you the contact information for one Min Yoongi, a botanist who works in the school's research department.

Then she gives you the contact information for one Kim Taehyung, the town coroner and pathologist. Apparently, both of them will be available for consultation.

She is eager, maybe even desperate, smiling at you with an urgent sheen in her eyes.

When you accept her offer, shaking her hand with your usual firm grip, she seems to exhale in relief.

You move to Farrow’s End by the end of the week. It’s not as if you have much to move, just a trunkful of books and a handful of duffel bags. You’ve always moved around for work, and even if you didn’t, staying in one place for too long makes you nervous.

Your bags hit the pavement beside your boots as you survey your new home. It's a small, quaint house. The paint is faded but the architectural structure is sturdy. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room. The whole place is in a slight state of disrepair, but you can't complain.

You spend the next day cleaning and unpacking, which doesn't take long since you leave most of your books in the trunk. You're exploring the town by the end of the afternoon.

The town square, though full of shops and businesses, is nearly barren. A few civilians putter around, their faces weathered and reflective of the gloom in the air. They stare at you as you pass by, a cocktail of curiosity and slight suspicion.

The next thing you notice is the posters. They're everywhere, on the crumbling brick walls, stuck on lampposts, taped to the windows, all displaying a variety of subjects. Events at the University, local night markets, antiques for sale.

But there are a few that stick out. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE LAKE! Sign the petition to restrict land access →

HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? You're not alone, contact a psychic today!

BEWARE! DO NOT FEED LOCAL WILDLIFE.

Though, what's more strange to you is what you don't see. There are barely any missing person posters, and the few that you do see appear to have been ripped away.

Work begins now, you think to yourself as you snap some photos of several posters, flapping in the cold wind.

You pop into the general store to pick up some essentials, and the store clerk immediately recognizes that you're not a local.

He asks where you're from, you reply with the standard answer: a city not too far but not too close. He asks what you're doing here, you reply with the standard answer: you're a journalist. You add in the suggestion that you're working with the University about a story, and he doesn't question any further.

You're not sure if it's because he takes the hint or because he loses interest.

During the drive home, you notice something looming in the distance. Atop the highest hill is a dark house, with spires and towers rising from the tops of spindly trees. Even from here, you can see that the architecture is old and ornate, almost ancient in a hypnotic way. You're fairly certain you can see a murder of crows circling above.

An unusual feeling hangs around the house, like there's some kind of aura surrounding it. Welcoming some, yet blocking others.

Very strange indeed.

You spend the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace, using the flickering orange light to skim over newspaper clippings.

No, the house does not have a heating system. But you don't mind too much, you have plenty of wood and warm clothes.

Five missing and three dead in the last year. Local law enforcement has done everything they could with what they had to work with, which apparently wasn't much. Scattered locations, no visible connection between the victims, and an alarming lack of evidence.

Eyelids heavy, you leave the papers scattered across the floor and head to bed, already looking forward to tomorrow's first coffee.

september 17, 2004

The University appears to be just as old as the rest of the town. Original wood, aged stone, curved iron accents. The brick walkway is slick with morning rain, and the sky is swirling with fog.

Perfect weather, it makes you ready to get to work.

The directory stated that Min Yoongi would be in Montgomery Hall, the natural sciences building, either in the greenhouse or in one of the labs, according to the TA you talked to earlier on the phone.

It takes some wandering, but what you like about this place is that people don't seem to notice your presence as much as they do in town. Out there, you're an easily identifiable outsider. Here, you're just another passerby with a purpose.

You find him in one of the lab rooms, tucked into a little nook that's encased with plastic sheeting, dotted with beads of moisture. The small space is crowded with greenery, big pots of tall plants with fanning leaves, draping vines from wall planters, seedlings in little trays.

Through the condensation dripping down the plastic walls, you can see that he's spraying the plants down with water, wearing a classic white coat.

You're indulging in your bad habit again. Your footsteps are notoriously quiet (you've been told), and you (apparently) have a tendency to sneak up on people and observe them for several minutes before they notice that you are there.

But it's a skill you delight in.

The man is of average height, thin, black hair, delicate features. You notice that the soles of his boots are caked with mud, and his skin is dewy from the humidifiers pumping moisture into the room.

"You already know my opinion on this," you hear him say, muffled by the spray of the water.

For a moment, you think he's talking to you, that he's rejecting your case before you've even presented it to him. But he isn't facing you, and his tone is decidedly casual, like he's talking to an old friend.

"It's bad for the others, anyway," he continues. "Don't wiggle your trigger hairs at me like that."

A pause, the water flow stops. Then a sigh of defeat.

"Fine, one puff. Then you quit pouting, got it?"

There's the sound of shuffling, then the fwick of a lighter being ignited.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step forward to peer through the slit in the plastic sheeting.

There's a Venus fly trap on one of the shelves, and between the jaws of one of the trap mouths, is a lit cigarette.

The man's head piques up when you enter his field of vision. Eyes widening, he looks like a cat that's been caught off guard.

He looks between you and the plant several times. You're fairly certain you see the tip of the cigarette glow ember, as if the plant were actually inhaling.

The man snatches the cigarette away and crushes it beneath the wet sole of his boot.

"Nasty habit," he finally says with a nervous chuckle. An awkward, straight-mouthed smile crosses his face, making his cheeks puff out slightly.

"Min Yoongi?" you ask.

"Yes, ma'am," he responds politely.

"I'm ______," you say, holding out a hand to shake.

He shuffles forward, his cold slim fingers meeting yours.

"Ah, the mayor mentioned that you'd be around."

That throws you a bit, because from what you've gathered about this case, you assumed that the mayor didn't want to be associated with it.

"Yes, would you mind filling me in on some of the ecological disturbances that have been going on in town?"

It's as if the question sends ants crawling down his spine. His neutral smile dissipates into an anxious twitch of his lips. He turns the hose back on and resumes spritzing the plants.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, a new tension in his voice.

Odd.

"Well," you start, "The mayor tells me that locals have been complaining about strange mushrooms invading their yards, increased acidity in their soil. Would you know anything about that?"

His eyebrows are knitted as he dampens the leaves of a spiraling fern.

"Mushrooms are really just the fruit of fungi, they bloom like flowers when the conditions are just right. Moisture, shade, an abundance of organic material, stuff like that. When it comes to the acidity, there's a variety of factors. All the rainfall recently leads to leaching, and the increased use of fertilizers causes nitrification. It's pretty standard."

You raise an eyebrow. He's deflecting.

"People have been saying that these mushrooms have been particularly hard to get rid of."

Yoongi 's brows furrow as if he's thinking hard.

"Fungi are tricky like that. We don't know much about them, really. They're their own class of life form. It could be a particularly stubborn strain."

"There's also been some unusual plant growth, creeping vines or the like. Very resistant to herbicides, apparently."

He pauses, considers it.

"Hmm," he mutters, the nozzle of the hose going lax in his hand.

“Also,” you continue, trying to further engage his curiosity. “There's been several cases of strange root rot?”

You add a questioning tone to your voice, gauging his reaction. Apparently, he hasn’t heard about it, because he looks up at you with the same question in his eyes.

“Root rot? In household plants?” he asks.

“No, in residencies.”

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“I would benefit a lot from your knowledge, if I could just bring you a few samples, maybe go out and do some fieldwork—”

“You wouldn’t like working with me,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m very…particular.”

You have a feeling the word is meant as a substitute for something else.

“Wonderful, so am I,” you reply, digging one of the many notebooks out of your bag. Flipping to the calendar, you click open your open your pen and start scribbling.

“Mornings are best, get the most out of the daylight. Make sure to bring your equipment and something to write on, and a camera if you have one.”

“Wait, I just don’t know if I’m going to be much use to you,” Yoongi says a little nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You pause your scribbling to look at him. He’s pale in the fluorescent light, but not just physically. He has pale mannerisms and pale expressions, the countenance of a person that doesn’t feel as if they belong.

You know the feeling well.

“Coffee is always on me. How do you like it?” you say instead.

“Does Wednesday work?”

september 18, 2004

Three dead and five missing in less than six months. First, Michael Bradley, aged forty-two. Cause of death: chronic poisoning/exposure to toxic chemicals. He was found in his garage surrounded by household cleaners and herbicides. Apparently he’d been trying to get rid of the same strange mushrooms in his yard.

For now, all you have to work with is what they’ve published in the newspapers, and it seems that all that's come out of it is a public service announcement warning homeowners to be careful around toxic chemicals. His wife, Mary Bradley, hasn't commented on the circumstances of her husband’s death. And no one else has inquired any further into the matter.

Until today, obviously. Mrs. Bradley didn't answer her phone, and when you knocked on her door earlier this morning, she seemed less than pleased.

You opened with the standard introduction: I'm a journalist working on a story, would you mind consenting to an interview? Mrs. Bradley narrowed her eyes and scanned you up and down with barely concealed suspicion.

She asked what a journalist would find interesting about a common, accidental death in a small town. Apparently, the citizens of Farrow's End are very perceptive to outsiders.

You mentioned that fact that although Bradley's death appeared accidental, it's not common for people to die at the hands of household chemicals from prolonged exposure. Chronic poisoning is rarely without symptoms, why didn't he go to hospital?

She didn't have anything to say to that. You asked if she'd be comfortable divulging some of the details of his death, maybe even giving you access to the autopsy report. But she just grimaced at the mention, insisting that she had nothing to say about the matter and that you should leave right away.

She slammed the door in your face, but luckily it wasn't the first time people have resisted your questions. Unfortunately, a significant part of your job involves being a pain in the ass.

You linger in the front yard, where it's impossible not to notice the gnarled tree stumps and large rings of mushrooms scattered across the lawn.

You're not a mycologist by any means, but even you can tell that these mushrooms are strange. They seem to be multicolored, red and orange and brown, changing depending on the light like a hologram, but without any of the shine. They aren't bulb-shaped like many other mushrooms, but twist in tendrils this way and that, stretching.

And a smell hangs about them. You can't really describe it, something like damp and musk and old meat. Standing there, breathing them in, for too long makes your head spin.

And the trees, or rather, what's left of them. Nothing but stumps now, but you can tell that they were old when they were cut down. There's that same multi-colored effect to them, except it runs in veins throughout the tree's bark, spiraling into the rings.

You'll have to ask Yoongi about it.

Curiosity nips at you like a non-venomous snake even after you're home. It's not deadly, but it sure as hell is annoying.

What kind of disease infects fungi and trees? Why would the mayor care about privately investigating such a thing? And a thousand other questions.

You shove your boots on and enter back into the chill. You remember seeing a bookstore in town.

The Magic Shop: Books and Oddities

The front window glows with warm light, crowded with displayed volumes and curiosities (a stuffed raven, a jar of yellowing teeth, insects encased in amber).

The door swings open with the ring of a bell. Someone calls out "Welcome in," in a deep-velvet voice.

The smell of parchment and aged leather envelopes you like a familiar hug. You can't help pausing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. No matter what city you're in, places like this always feel like home.

It's everything that a bookstore should be: crowded, mysterious, and slightly dusty. The shelves are tightly grouped and arranged like a labyrinth few are privy to, and stacks—no, towers—of books occupy every corner.

You enter into the space, feet padding on the braided rugs, eyes drinking in the details. There are labels on the shelves, haphazardly spaced. They start normal enough: gardening, self-help, adventure.

But then you realize that they branch off into even more labels, or rather sub-labels. There's nocturnal gardening, gardening under the influence, Faerie gardens and goblin gardens. Each labeled sub-genre branches into even more specific sub-categories, creating a seemingly endless array of subjects.

You could explore this place for hours. In fact, you intend to over the course of your stay in Farrow's End.

You spend an indeterminate amount of time exploring all the labels and categories. The shelves twist this way and that, creating little nooks where the occasional armchair is tucked into.

Eventually, you come to a more open area with a wide-sprawling desk. The man sitting behind it is tall and tan, glasses perched on his nose, with short chestnut hair that shifts golden in the candlelight.

He's deeply focused on the book in his hands: A Comprehensive Guide to Navigating Parallel Universes and Pocket Dimensions.

Typically, you hate to bother people in a bookstore, especially if they're already reading. It's supposed to be a space for quiet reflection, for self-exploration and uninterrupted browsing. But you still have a job to do, and it's clear that you won't be able to navigate the complicated system yourself. At least, not in a concise period of time.

So you square your shoulders and prepare yourself to address the (handsome, you notice) man at the counter.

"Excuse me," you begin in a hushed voice.

The man's head whips up, as if he completely forgot there was another person here.

"Yes?" He says in that same deep voice, friendly and eager. "Do you need help finding something?" It sounds like he can't quite believe the fact. This place must not get many customers.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

His face lights up as if nothing would delight him more.

"Do you have anything on unusual mushrooms?" you ask.

The man sets down his book and slips out from behind the desk. "Hmm..." he mumbles to himself, expertly weaving between the shelves while you hurry to catch up.

"Let's see here..." he says, passing a wall draped with vines from a hanging planter, like the ones in Yoongi's lab, you notice.

"Fungi," he mutters, fingertips ghosting over the shelves. The sections under Fungi are vast and wide-ranging. Poisons & Antidotes, Moss & Lichens, Carnivorous, Aberrations.

He pauses at that last one, eyes flitting between the volumes.

"Anything specific?" he asks.

You debate on how much to disclose, but with the several cases of strange fungi in people's yards, it's probably common small town knowledge by now.

"Anything about an unusual fungus with...tendrils?" You can't help the hesitation, you're not sure if it's a common feature among mushrooms.

Apparently, it's not as unusual as you thought, because the man only nods and shifts his attention to one of the lower shelves. His slim fingers finally land on an old cloth-bound book with a red toadstool on the spine. There's no title on the cover, but the man seems to be familiar with it.

"Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in this one."

He says it with the confidence of someone who's read every book in the building front to back. A very specific part of your brain tells you that this fact is almost certainly true.

"Thank you very much," you say, turning the book over in your hands.

"My pleasure," he replies, and means it.

"How much?"

He guides you back to the counter and rings it up for a very good price.

You're itching to ask questions, but you're not sure where to start.

The man places the book into a brown paper bag printed with Magic Shop Books and Oddities and hands it to you with a warm smile.

You lose your nerve and take the bag in silence. Then, as if he could smell the fragmented thoughts darting around in your skull, he says, "Be careful in the woods."

You look at him. There's the same friendly smile, but now with a hint of good-natured curiosity.

"If you're going mushroom hunting, I mean," he adds.

You stare at him for perhaps too long.

"Thanks," you say, dropping a generous tip into the jar next to the register.

"Hope to see you again," he calls out as you exit through the front door.

A moth to flame, bees to honey. Insert: you to coffee shops with perfect ambient lighting. You spot it just as you're leaving the narrow alley that leads to the bookshop.

Turning the corner onto a cobblestone walkway, you catch sight of the cafe windows, slick with the recent rain. But from what you can see through the glass, it looks like a warm, cozy place.

Glancing at the front door, you notice an OPEN sign, even though it's quite late. You're opening the door and stepping inside before you're even conscious of it.

The interior reflects the same aged aesthetic as the exterior, dark wood and brick and brass accents. But the kitchen area houses clean chrome appliances, and there are shelves stacked with white dishes behind them. Golden light warms a glass case fully stocked with a manner of pastries, breads, and other nibbles, all of which still seem to be steaming hot.

You immediately decide that you like this place.

"Good evening," a pleasant voice calls, though you can't yet identify the speaker.

The smell of steam and freshly-ground coffee beans becomes richer as you approach the counter. You can hear someone puttering around in the back room.

You glance at the menu's wide selection, and when you look back at the counter, a man is standing right in front of you.

You don't scare easily, but it's enough to make you jump a little.

"What can I get you?" the man asks cheerfully. He's tall and slim, wearing a white button-up and black slacks under an apron. Brown hair, dark eyes, and a full smiling mouth.

You order a coffee and a pastry.

"What time do you close?" you ask, wanting to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere but also not wanting to be the asshole that settles in just before closing.

"On Wednesdays we close at noon, otherwise we're open twenty-four hours," he replies, sounding delighted by rather than annoyed by the fact.

A twenty-four hour coffee shop? You really like this place.

He must see your eyebrows raise in surprise, because then he proudly adds, "Only one in town."

Pleasantly surprised, you look around the shop to assess the seating options. There are booths tucked along the walls, a few tables and chairs, and a few plush-looking armchairs near the windows.

"Please, have a seat and make yourself at home. I enjoy the company," the man says as he makes your drink.

You take him up on it, settling into one of the chairs by the frosted glass of the window. It's then that you take a closer look at the book the shop owner recommended.

A fraying cloth-bound cover, a red toadstool instead of a title. Inside, a table of contents. First, a bit of basic mycology, which you greatly benefit from. Immediately after, a range of mutations, circumstances, and environmental factors that caused the direct disturbance to said mycology.

You get lost in it quite easily, sipping your drink (which is expertly brewed) and nibbling your pastry (which is almost too delicious for words). You know that you'll be spending a considerable amount of time here throughout your stay in Farrow's End.

The book cites several case studies, all suggesting that a new strain of fungus is not only spreading rapidly, but infecting all other strains it has access to.

You read on, only momentarily distracted by the occasional customers that enter into the establishment. Like the group of students, most likely from the University, who order a large batch of espresso to-go. Or the old man who orders a sandwich and black coffee and sits outside despite the late-night chill.

You don't realize it, but you read on until the early morning. The first few faint, pale rays of sunlight stretch across your current page through the window, and you jerk to attention when you realize what time it is.

Not that you have somewhere in particular to be today. But you've always liked to get a jump on things early on in the investigation. And you have better luck getting interviews during the day.

You had no idea that time was passing so quickly. This place seems to have an air of particular tranquility, the kind that only a handful of coffee shops are able to achieve. It's the feeling of finding a quiet place after being overstimulated for hours.

You take your dishes to the counter, drop a tip into the jar, and step into the morning chill.

Exhaustion sets in on the journey home, and you crash moments after your head hits the pillow.

The dreams start that night.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! love to hear any of ur thoughts 👉👈

next chapter

[ilys00ga]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?

➞ genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn.

➞ warnings: mentions of cheating, heartbreak, reader is going through some deep shit, failed past relationship, alcohol consumption (drink mindfully and responsibly (not me saying this when I don't even drink lmao)). this is PURE fiction!

➞ A/N: I wanna start by saying thank you to the one or two persons who requested another part of this fic. as I mentioned before, I had no intention or inspiration to write more of it, but I'm glad that yall forced me into coming up with this (jkjk). I don't KNOW how and what , but I WANT to write more parts of this. so, in the meantime, enjoy this and expect something to be posted in some few months lmao. I had to rewrite this a hundred times, I kind of don't wanna proofread it ever again 😭 so pls ignore any mistakes or questionable points (🙏🙏🙏!!!!!!). love <3

➞ tags: @viankiss + @parkjennykim + @acquiescence804

★ MASTERLIST.

Ethereal clouds blanketed the sky above the town, giving a gleam of light every now and then as they played a game of hide and seek with the sun. The crisp wind bit the skin of your face, carrying the scent of freshly wet concrete in every direction it went. the world was vivid in color around you and underneath your feet. As per always, nothing could beat the delight of walking down the street shortly after a round or two of rain.

as you make your way down the sidewalk, you reach a shopwindow displaying a collection of book goodness. The huge sign right at the top of the storefront read 'SNOOZE', and you wondered what kind of significance it carried for it to be the chosen name of the shop before you.

not wasting any more precious time, you decided to pay a visit and see if any book would call out your name as soon as it spots you, and lure you closer to fan its pages and listen to their story.

The first thing that welcomed you as soon as you walked into the place was a radiating warmth. the air was sweet-scented with a mix of wood, paper, new and old books, multiple perfumes and a mouth watering smell of both coffee and tea. It was almost too overwhelming, but the atmosphere soaked your heart with so much comfort almost immediately that it left you speechless.

The shop was on two floors. The first one was largely specious. Every wall was loaded up with books neatly lined up from top to bottom, and planted everywhere were tables presenting neatly organized books. Some people were scattered around, talking in hushed voices or just silently browsing. Others you could see chilling on the second floor, where a coffee bar was. It was not as spacious as the one underneath, but it was commodious enough for some extra small couches and chairs here and there.

you started walking around the lovely aisles, taking your time as you scanned through them. your finger ran down spines, and your nose inhaled the sweet, dearly loved smell of paper books in.

At the heart of your wandering, piano notes rode the air inside the shop, rushing as they slipped between shelves and making their way to your ears. it tugged a smile on your face, the smooth melody that sounded somewhat familiar, and you stalked its source with sheer curiosity.

There, when you finally made it, you found the man you met at your best friend’s wedding a couple of months earlier, seated on the piano bench, focused. Yoongi was his name. Yoongi, Soyoon’s older brother, who walked around with a box of UNO cards in his pocket. such a memorable person.

He looked slightly different than the last (fist and only) time you saw him, though. His hair was shorter, pushed back with a pair of sunglasses resting on his head. He also had sidecuts, and some ear piercings. totally different from the other day.

perhaps the "performance" went on for about two minutes more, u couldn't tell, but soon he had his hands clasped on his lap and smiled, satisfied. Before you could walk away, Yoongi turned and his eyes immediately fell on you. ‘oh’, he whispered as his eyes widened in surprise, and you cracked a faint smile.

"didn't expect to see you again." he spoke first, standing up and approaching you.

"Me neither. I was losing hope in playing another round of UNO with you again."

"Well, about that.." scratching the back of his head, he bit his lip sheepishly and confessed, "I kept a box in my pocket for days but then lost track and didn’t think we’d see each other again.."

"Too bad I can't beat you today.." you scrunched your nose teasingly.

"we can play another time?" he suggested, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and relaxing his board shoulders.

"Sure, why not." you averted your eyes from his for a moment before meeting them again with a small smile.

Neither of you said anything for a short moment. it wasn't exactly awkward—or at least not from your end—in fact, something deep inside kept eagerly nagging, pushing you to say something and keep pulling strings of conversation from the man before you. so, you decided to comply and chat up with a hint of hesitance hanging from your teeth, "You work here?"

"oh, yeah. with a friend of mine." he answered, "is there anything specific you'd like?"

"no, I’d just discovered the place so I was walking around."

"I see… coffee? or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee is good."

"Alright, come with me." He led you upstairs, told you to take a seat, and started preparing two cups for the both of you. Truthfully speaking, the cozyness of the store caught you off guard. really. It didn't feel like a shop, no, it felt like a private reading space in the comfort of your own house. For a moment, you felt sad as you wondered whether it was a painfully underrated place or not. It would've been such a shame if a place like that one wasn't appreciated enough, you thought.

a stretched out arm placed a cup in front of you. looking up, you were reminded of his presence once again.

"there you go," he said and sat across from you.

"How's the situation here?" you inquired, fingers hugging the warm mug between your hands.

"pretty good. We started recently, but it's already going well."

"I see." you nodded your head and took a sip, "Associating readers and bookworms all day must be nice."

"It's fun, sometimes." he hummed, "Are you one?"

"a bookworm? not really, no. I mean, I do love reading but I'm almost always busy filming so.."

"filming…?"

"oh, yeah. I'm an actress. a very not well known one, at that." you chuckled.

"That's cool." you could read elements of genuine interest off of his expression. you weren’t sure why, but it made you smile.

"you think so?" you asked.

"Of course I do. acting has always been interesting to me."

The two of you exchanged bits of comments and opinions for a few more minutes. it wasn't until you glanced down at your wrist watch that you realized it was time for you to leave.

"But you haven't picked a book yet," he insisted when you got up and bid your goodbyes.

"there were too many good ones, I really couldn't choose."

"Wait, come with me." you trailed along behind him as he headed downstairs, until he came to a halt and showed you a tall bookcase. written on the very top was a big “BLIND DATE WITH A BOOK”. Each one of the books in it was wrapped in the same gray paperwrap and had words scribbled on it. after a quick glance, you could tell that they were short anonymous letters.

"People drop mystery books here all the time. see if you find something that stirs your interest?" Yoongi proposed.

Doing as he said, you went through the notes, reading each one carefully, until one grabbed your attention.

“for the mourning soul,

harried and frayed at the edges,

this is a hug from me to you.”

It read.

“Good choice.” somewhere to your left, you could hear Yoongi softly muttering.

"baby, please listen to me!" he pleaded, hand tightening around your arm to prevent you from walking away.

"What more do you have to say? I saw everything with my own eyes!" your voice cracked as you held a sob in, trying so hard to hold yourself together and not break down in front of the man that just broke your heart with no care.

"it's not what it looks like! I love you, why'd you think I would lie to you?!"

and all of a sudden, every word known to man vanished from the top of your tongue. your brain went blank, your face frozen. all you could muster was a faint "...you.."

“Cut!” the director’s voice rang out and sliced its way through the scene.

Everyone on set looked at you with knitted brows as he walked up to you, pulling you aside. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, mentally preparing yourself for whatever remark he was intending to deliver your way.

“__, we’ve done intense scenes like this one before. I know you can do better.” he crossed his arms, eyebrows inching closer to each other as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, sir. it's just so ha-"

“How hard can it be to express and demystify being cheated on? have you never been cheated on before? just conjure that picture up, then translate and convey it. it’s not that hard.” he rolled his eyes and instructed with a sharp tone. it made your stomach twist again and you felt sick, almost as though those pair of strict eyes grew an arm and bunched you right in the chest, hence your aching bottom lip as you chewed at it and looked down at your feet.

and with a timid voice, you answered, “I know, I'm sorry, I will try my best.”

“right.” was all he muttered before he walked away, announcing a ten minutes long break to the whole crew.

it took everything within you not to walk up to him and scream at his face until your throat bled and burned with an old rage. you really wanted to do that, but you didn’t. you couldn't. so you just stood there and watched the room move like nothing had been said.

A guy walked in. He hastened to reach the director and whispered something in his ear. another guy came up and handed you a cup of coffee. you thanked him and put your mind to the drink, savoring its bitterness as it washed every corner of your mouth.

some minutes later, your phone beeped with an incoming message:

from Saera <3: There’s something i think you should know. Let's meet up when you’re done.

Planning it all step by step was what the universe had done. the director suddenly called it a wrap, and the room was moving quicker than before.

“Here’s your bottle, miss.” a blond bartender said with a sweet grin on his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a necklace sitting comfortably between the partially exposed pecks of his chest—a sight you were sure you didn’t see a few minutes ago since the first few buttons of his shirt were definitely not unbuttoned.

You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ and opened the bottle of your favorite alcoholic drink, filling the empty glass you were clutching with the other hand and taking a decent sip. it burnt as it washed down the walls of your throat, to your chest and spread all over your system.

“Oof, I really needed that.” hissing, you threw your head backward.

Over the past couple of months, that bar came to be a comfort zone for you. when the emotions you tenderly carried in the palms of your hands overflowed and raced down your arms, reaching your elbows to then drip like heavy raindrops by your feet on the floor, you rushed your way to this pub to pat it dry.

Maybe it was the coziness of its vintage interior decor presented to the visiting eye that pulled you in. or the quiet atmosphere that lured every presence that steps into the place with curious eyes, welcoming it with a warm embrace and a gentle smile. or the hushed voices of customers spending their time in various of ways and feelings, one sitting alone and sipping on a huge glass of beer with a grim face, another sitting lifelessly with barely opened eyes and a bunch of empty glasses stacked up on the table before them, a couple with tinted cheeks sharing whispered love between each other and some elderly people just hanging out here and there.

The cocky bartender was somehow always on shift whenever you showed up. He seemed to love shamelessly hitting on you with that large smile of his, but Instead of paying him any attention, you fix your eyes on the stacked up bottles and glasses behind him, shining with reflections of soft yellow, and politely smile back every single time. That didn't seem to wind him up, though.

A thick steam of thoughts fogged your mind up as you sat on one of the high red stools lined up at the counter, facing the room with your back and consuming one glass after another.

A soft knock on the wooden counter to your right pulled you out of your wandering thoughts. your back stiffened and your head snapped up. Then you saw him, once again, Yoongi smiling down at you, and he ever so softly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He didn't have his sunglasses above his head, you noticed. his fringe fell on his forehead, and he didn't have the piercings on, you noticed that too. Amber light bulbs beamed gold on his pale skin, going perfectly right with the black silk dress shirt he was wearing.

"Are you stalking me?" you said with a thick, slurred voice.

he tilted his head, still smiling, and pointed, "this bar is two blacks away from the bookshop. I like to come here often."

you didn't say anything further—maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe it was something you couldn't confidently put your finger on, but there was a voice that kept praising his face in the back of your head and you just sat there, listening, observing, red-cheeked, droopy-eyed, motionless.

Yoongi nodded towards the seat right next to yours and muttered, “can i?”

"o-of course!" you spat an answer out, pressing your eyes shut and facing away from him. maybe drinking too much wasn't the best idea that night. or maybe it was that you should've paid more attention and recognized the very familiar street beforehand? either way, you felt too unstable to function in front of another human being at that moment.

"You look troubled." was the first thing he said after the batista had come, served him the drink he ordered and left again.

"ah… just tired."

The man didn't say anything for a while. The frown he immediately noticed on your face when he spotted you just earlier ran a hundred questions in his brain, however, at the very tip of his tongue laid a question he really wanted to voice out ever since the two of you had met at the bookstore, but he just couldn't.

After giving it some thought, he gathered some strength and decided to just ask his concern away.

“that thing you told me about the other day,” he started, carefully picking his words, and you tried to listen as attentively as your fogged up mind could, "does it still hurt?”

At first, you couldn't understand what he was referring to exactly, not until you thought back on the two times you two had met before.

he watched your pointer finger, the one you'd been gliding along the rim of your glass freeze. He didn’t speak, neither did you. it seemed like neither of you was breathing for a few seconds. The air in the room was getting colder, and so were the tips of your fingers as they hung above and barely touched the rim.

Gulping the saliva that gathered on top of your tongue, you contemplated whether you should provide an answer to his question or just ignore it like it was never asked at all. This was a question no one had ever asked you since the entire cheating situation had happened. it was always ‘are you okay?' or ‘Did you move on?’. something of the sort. Not once did anyone wonder whether it still stinged your heart every time the image of your ex popped up before your eyes or not. not once did anyone ask if the scene still haunted you after all these months or not.

But it’s not like you were mad or pointing accusatory fingers at anybody. the pain was yours, and only you shall bask and drown in it. only you shall figure out how the fuck to get the hell out of that dark pit and heal from it.

It was just something that you yourself were too caught up in the hurricane of your grief and bitterness to even ask your own self, ‘does it really still hurt?’, ‘Are you getting any better?’, 'are you still stuck?', 'what if you're stuck there forever?'

It took a long moment before you could manage a proper reply to that stirring query. until you uttered a small ‘he died’ loud enough for him to hear.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him lifting his head, yet he remained silent. you rawly added, "the asshole died in a car accident like nothing had happened at all... tell me," you paused to lift your tremling hand and rest its palm over your chest, right where you heart was beating fast, " how should I mend what’s been ruptured in here now..? Why is it even still hurting..? Why am I mad..? I don't understand. Do you..? I…”

Yoongi took his time to answer, humming then absent-mindedly nodding his head before speaking again, “it takes some time.”

“how do you know that?” you inquired again, lifting your head to have a look at his side profile.

“I know how it feels to be abandoned by someone so special, at the very least.”

“you got dumped?” you blurted.

He let out a breathy scoff, lightly scratching at the skin under his left eye with flushed cheeks.

“did you really have to say it that way?” he hissed playfully and wet his lower lip, eyes pinned on yours, “but yes, my ex left me to chase after her dreams.”

somewhere deep in those dark orbs, you could catch a glimpse of something sorrowful, but it quickly vanished as he attempted to smile and then looked away.

“I guess we’re both losers, then.” you downed the three quarters full glass in one draft. The room was spinning. you were feeling gradually more light-headed.

“We are not losers just because we got our hearts broken.” Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t sound that buzzed yet. his voice got deeper, and his words stood steady the more he talked.

“Then what are we? If not a loser, then what does being cheated on or abandoned for some worldly goal make you?" tears started welling up from deep inside, but even in your dizzy state, you couldn't let them out. not at that moment, not with Yoongi some inches away from you. you gulped, and with a trembling voice, you muttered, "being stuck in one square while they move on with their lives and build castles for themselves, then have the audacity to die like nothing had happened at all, what does that make you?”

“a lover. being betrayed by a loved one despite all the unconditional love you offered makes you somebody who loves so sincerely. a wretched lover."

you allow his words to set in, analyzing them briefly and pondering before letting a snort out.

“That's even worse.” you said, bitterly.

Yoongi smiled, equally bitter as you, "turns out we're actually more similar than I had thought."

a ‘do you need anything else, dear?’ popped your little bubble up when the bartender showed up again, not once glancing at the man sitting right next to you as he addressed all of his attention towards you.

“no, we’re leaving.” came a sharp answer from Yoongi, and when you glanced at him you saw that his face held a stiff expression, one that was very different from the wide smile and crinkly eyes it was displaying some minutes ago.

The bartender turned his head towards him with a flat smile, then excused himself to serve some new customers.

“we’re leaving?” you tilted your head with furrowed eyes in confusion.

“yeah. you look gone as hell, and it’s getting late.” he started getting up, “i’ll give you a ride.”

“That sounds about right.” absently nodding your head, you stood up as well, and he guided you out of the building.

The door to your flat beeped once automatically unlocked, and just as you stepped in, you were faced with Saera. she stood there with her hands on her hips, eyeing your drunken state, unsatisfied. her shoulders lowered, and her brows rose as soon as she caught sight of Yoongi standing right behind you, then said: “you two..”

Yoongi began explaining the situation briefly to her, scratching the back of his neck as he stuttered on his words and blushed.

“she's not that wasted. All is good. Just put her to bed.” he finished his summary and hummed, satisfied with himself.

Before Saera could say anything, you grumbled an “I can take care of myself just fine.” and walked up to your room with unsteady steps, waving them off.

“and I'll go.” Yoongi mumbled, quickly walking out with a ghost of faint red still remaining on his plump, milky cheeks.

[bbangtans]

searching & finding | knj | oneshot teaser

⋆☀︎｡ Summary: Wake up, go to work, go home, cook dinner, rinse, and repeat: that was your life had come to post-grad. Once a young woman with larger-than-life aspirations, you’ve been downtrodden by the world's harsh realities. Now, after taking out all your savings and having only one large suitcase in tow, you find yourself in an idyllic seaside town to figure out what’s next for you. Luckily, the bookshop owned by the town’s beloved Kim Namjoon will always be a place of solace for you no matter how sudden the seasonal showers are.

pairing: namjoon x f!reader genre: non-idol au, fluff, romance, strangers to friends to lovers, book cafe owner genius namjoon is saurrrrr dreamy bro, reader just wants to find inner peace, yoongi is just the cool cousin there for the ride lmao, and jungkook is namjoon’s cute cafe assistant hehehehe rating/warnings: PG-15 | language, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex a/n: kim namjoon is my beacon of light through a storm. this is for anyone feeling a lil lost, sending you the warmest hug ever 🫂 and inspired by summer strike – that drama will always have a place in my heart, and what you are looking for is in the library – a hopeful, meditative read i highly rec! word count: ~10k will be posted on Sunday, April 21st at 10PM PST! <3 EDIT: post date moved to Sunday, April 27th!

“So, what brings you here to Pohang?” A tall, dimpled man approached your table as he set down the iced americano you ordered in front of you. He tucked his small serving tray under his arm as he eyed the stack of manga that you had, ready to indulge in a day of catching up on Haikyuu. You were the only customer in the establishment as it was late afternoon so that meant the kids were in school while the adults were busy at work. The soft sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains of the front window, giving the book cafe a yellowish hue. The end of another day was near. 

You thanked him as you tried to think of an answer. “Uh… I’m visiting my cousin, Yoongi, for the summer. Taking a break from Seoul after some things happened and just figuring out… life, I guess.” 

Internally, you wanted to scream because you felt like you were oversharing.

He gave a deep, thoughtful hum to your response. “Well, I think you’ve come to the right place. This place, although small compared to Seoul, has a lot to offer. And I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

You gladly gave your name as well and Namjoon repeated it to himself as though tasting how your name felt on his lips. You couldn’t help but feel your face flush slightly, Namjoon was definitely attractive. From his towering, defined build to honey-like, sun-kissed skin and topped off with dimples that punctuated a bright smile, he was a sight to behold for sure. “Thanks, I’m looking forward to seeing more of it as I figure things out.”

“Yeah,” he excitedly responded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing more of you around. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for out here.” 

“Same here.”

Your small smile matched his.

[mymuseagustd]

#2 The Bookshop

Y/N just wants to buy her books, and Yoongi is happy to help.

Pairing: Yoongi x F!reader

Genre: Fluff, Non-idol AU

Warnings: None

Words: 1.7K+

----x----

“Hi, could you tell me till when is this place open?” The movie was supposed to go on till 8, and I was hoping I could still come to the bookshop and get my list.

“Till 8.” The cashier replied without looking up.

“Shit.”

He looked up, his face in a frown, as his dark eyes questioned the sudden curse word, I blurted instinctively, “Can I help you?”

“Would it be possible to keep the shop open for like ten more minutes?” Hoping he saw the desperation in my eyes. “Yoongi…” I read his name tag, “I have a list of books to buy, I promise, but I have a movie to catch before and…”

“You can take books inside the hall.” He said, again in his deadpan voice. “They let you.”

“Oh, I know, I just,” How will I explain this? “I’m on a date, or I have a date. And, it’ll be too nerdy, I think if I take like ten books inside the hall. And, it’s arranged by my parents, so I gotta be on my best behaviour which means I gotta act a certain way, and umm, carrying a heavy bag of books will not work if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Yoongi replied.

“Just till 8:10. The movie finishes at 8 so I promise I’ll be here at 8:02 and be out of here before 8:10!” I tried to reason with him.

“You are going to run out of the hall and be here in 2 mins after your movie end?” He repeated, and I nodded my head. “Not gonna say bye to your date?” He smirked.

“Shit.”

Yoongi's smile reached his eyes, “Did you say you want to buy ten books?” I nodded. “You have a list?”

“It’s in my phone,” where was this going?

“Give it to me, and I’ll keep them ready.” He put out the placard with the shop’s email. “Till 8:20, not a minute late.”

“Oh my gosh, yes, thank you so much!” I quickly snapped a picture of the email, “I’ll just email this to you!” I said, running out of the shop.

Turns out, this guy was worse off than the previous date I had been on. I really thought watching a movie will make this date fun, and bring out character, but my mother’s next-man-I-should-be-considering-to-date was here in a suit, looking extremely out of place, and typed on his phone for the major part of the movie. I wanted to ask why he bothered to turn up since we had spoken ten lines to each other, and he took a call between these lines, where he spoke way more, but he wasn’t interesting enough for this introspection.

“Okay, so thanks for the movie,” It was 8:01.

“Yeah, this was fun. Let me walk you to your car,” he said between sending another message.

“I’m actually going to go to the bookshop.”

“It’s going to be closed right now.” Most of the shops were shutting down around us.

“The person at the store told me he will keep it open.” Wow, we are at 15 lines.

“I’ll walk you till there, then.” He nodded. He got another call on the way, and I increased my pace.

The door of the shop was open, and I hoped he would leave me here and go on with his texting.

“It’s a friend’s birthday tomorrow, and I’m planning it,” my date finally wrapped his call after making me stand another minute in front of the shop. It was 8:07, and I could see Yoongi prepping to close the store. “But, this was fun. We should do this again! Why don’t you come for-“

“Why?” I said, losing my patience. “Why should we do this again?”

“You didn’t like a movie?” He asked, laughing.

“I don’t need a date to watch a movie.”

“We can do something else, then,” He said, dismissing my comment. His phone started ringing again.

“No, once was enough. I don’t think I need to see you text in another setting.” I said. “Thanks for today, though. I’ll see you around.” I waved and took a step inside the store.

“I told you that I’m planning a party tomorrow,” He yelled, annoyed.

“And I just told you that a second date is not happening. Have a great party!” I pushed the shop door so it’d close on his face, but it was too slow for it to have that BANG effect.

I turned around to see, Yoongi staring at me, “Sorry, was I not supposed to close the door?”

“No, close away. He is still standing there, though,” Yoongi pointed at the door.

“I can’t turn around. It’ll ruin my swag,” thankfully, Yoongi looked amused.

“Here are your books,” He put three big bags in front of me. “15 in total, you can check, of course,” He pushed them towards me. “He is still standing outside, by the way. Was the date that bad?” I’m sure my face looked more confused than it really was, but the bag was missing a few books. “I kinda heard your interaction.”

“He was on his phone the entire time. Why come on a date if you can’t give your time?” I explained, “A few books are missing. Did you get the second screenshot too?”

“Yeah, they are out of stock. Should be coming in next week cause I just placed an order for them.” Yoongi helped put the books back in the bag.

“No worries, I just want to stop going on these stupid dates. My mother calls it networking? Something I should be doing in a new city, but I’m not making friends like this. And he was just rude. Fuck, is he still out there?” I couldn’t turn back, but Yoongi’s face had a small, pitiful smile as he nodded.

“I can’t go out with these books. Why isn’t he leaving!”

“Why can’t you go out with these books? The date was a failure. Who cares?” He shrugs.

“No, 'cause he will go back and tell his friends that I was the unsociable one who walked out with three huge bags of books, and who does that on a date? But the actual narrative will be that he was the asshole who answered five calls while the movie was going on!”

“And how will you tell this narrative to all the people?” Yoongi laughed, handing me the bill, “I mean, you are new in the city, right? How will these ‘people’ know?”

“I was just going to tell my mother,” I shrugged. “The circle of the rich and powerful is tiny. It will trickle down from my mother to her friends, to the kids, and there will be another narrative of why I’m declining a date with the son of the owner of Exon Internationals.”

“Oh, is that Jae?” Yoongi looked over my shoulder again, and why was this man not leaving? “Looked familiar…”

“You know him?” Shocked cause why would a bookshop cashier know my date? I didn’t know him before, I was shown his face and given his credentials either.

“It’s a tiny circle,” Yoongi smiled. “So, you can’t walk out with these books?” I shook my head. “Okay, I’ll walk out with you then? These will be my books.” He switched off the computer and took his name tag off. “Give me a second,” He said, walking to the backroom. He came out in a second, switching off the lights, with his blazer in his arms. I couldn’t help checking him out. He was lean, but his arms looked strong. Not to mention, he was handsome, way more than serial texter Jae.

“Let’s go?” He took the bags off the counter and walked towards the door. Jae was still there, and he looked up as we came out of the store.

“Yoongi! Hey man! What are you doing here?” Jae exclaimed the most animated he had been tonight.

“It’s my store,” Yoongi said as he entered the lock code in the system. “How have you been? I heard about the London meeting.” What was happening? How did Yoongi know him?

“Yeah, man! But dad is handling that! What a blunder, man. I gotta learn from you!” Jae was buttering Yoongi up. He looked almost submissive as Yoongi stood tall in front of him. “But, what are you doing here? Dad told me you visited stores, but you’re like fully working and all.”

“I’m so confused,” I mumbled, looking between both of them.

“Hey! You know him. This is Min Yoongi. He is the prince in line to take over the Min Books!” Jae was indeed a fan, it seems. Min Books, a chain of mega bookstores. They were redefining reading, as the articles will tell you.

“Prince?” Yoongi coughed. “You’re always funny, Jae. Shall we walk to your car?” Yoongi looked at me.

“I took a cab,” I deadpanned.

“I’ll drive you then. Mind holding my bags for me? It’s getting chilly,” Yoongi handed me the bags as he wore his blazer. “It was nice seeing you, Jae.” He shook Jae’s hand, who still was looking at Yoongi like he was a rockstar. “Come on,” He took the bags from me and started walking towards the parking lot.

I quickly looked at Jae, who looked at me, wanting to say something, but I promptly muttered bye and ran behind Yoongi. “Here, let me take these,” I asked, pulling the bags.

“It’s no problem at all,” Yoongi smiled.

“Thank you for saving me there. You are quite the rockstar.” I said, catching up to his speed. “I’ll need to go the opposite way for the cab though…”

“I’ll leave you home…if that is okay with you?” He stopped.

“You’re Min Yoongi…” I looked at him, my cashier for the day.

“I am.”

“You’re on my mother’s list of people I should date…”

“L/N?” He questioned like he didn’t bill the books to my name. “I think we are scheduled for next Friday?” His smile really does reach his eyes.

---

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed reading this! Should I write their date as well? 

Happy to hear some requests if you guys have some? 

See you soon! 

[eoieopda]

the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky

Requested by Anon: Kim Seokjin got really drunk on a members-night-out, so his fiancée has to pick his cute, clingy ass up. ft. late-night wake-ups, gn!reader, and a lot of feelings about science. A/N: I accidentally deleted the draft associated with this ask, so now it's a separate post. Sorry for the wait, anon!

When Seokjin left for the evening, he'd placed a kiss on your forehead and a new book in your hands.

The novel in question was some obscure, independently published thing Namjoon had recommended. You'd mentioned it to Seokjin in passing — weeks ago — but hadn't had the downtime to seek it out since. Even if you had somehow carved out a moment to scour the local bookshops, you wouldn't have had the spare hours to immerse yourself in it the way you'd want to.

Not enough to meaningfully discuss its themes with Namjoon, anyway.

But Seokjin was Seokjin. He'd made some secret, mental note about what you said; hunted down that old single-edition book; and come up with a reason to spend his Saturday night elsewhere. He and his friends would get dinner and drinks — you'd get an overdue bubble bath and the solitude necessary to study for your unofficial, impromptu, two-member book club.

And that's precisely how you'd spent your night before tucking yourself into bed at the beautifully reasonable hour of half-past nine.

When your phone went off four hours later, you thought you were dreaming. You squinted at the screen for so long, trying to wrap your brain around the contact information blaring into your bleary eyes, that you almost failed to answer.

"Namjoon?" You croaked, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide from the offensive lamp light beaming off your bedside table. "I'm gonna need, like, a liter of coffee before I can wax poetic about the —"

"Hey, noona, it's Namjoon-ah!" He cut you off before you could finish. If the delayed, rhyming introduction didn't tip you off, the snorting, self-inflicted laughter would have.

Kim Namjoon, the designated dad of the friend group, was irrefutably ripped, zipped, and zooted.

You scrubbed your hand over your face in a futile attempt to stop your forming grin in its tracks. "Your picture popping up on my phone told me as much," You chuckled through your exhaustion, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this wake-up call?"

You heard him shout geonbae and gulp down some sort of shot before he provided you with an answer.

"Sojin has entered the chat," He announced with an absurd, deepened voice. Immediately, he cackled, "Get it? It's a portmanteau of soju and Seokjin, who is shitfaced — anyways, can you come get your man?"

It took you five minutes to throw on clothes and shuffle out the door to your car. The drive to the bar took only slightly longer, though it was the traffic lights and not the distance that slowed you down.

Unfortunately, twenty years came and went while you tackled the dreaded, subsequent task: parallel fucking parking.

The stress of it all nearly had you sweating by the time you entered the bar — you'd be hearing all that judgmental honking in your sleep, once you got back to it — but it all evaporated the second you saw Seokjin.

Off in the far corner, he sat on the outer half of a bench. Trapped inside that booth, visibly waiting for the sweet release of death, was Min Yoongi. You couldn't make out the details of that predominantly one-sided conversation, but you could tell by Seokjin's wild gesticulating and pink-tipped ears that he was ranting about something.

Bits and pieces fell into place as you made your away over, but no part of the overheard conversation made much sense to you.

Seokjin hiccupped, "I've said it once and I'll s-say it again —"

"— Hyung, I guarantee you've said it way more than once —" Yoongi attempted to interject, but he was quickly silenced by more of Seokjin's animated hand-waving.

"— Magic. It's magic, Yoongi. I'm tell — I'm telling you, man. There's just — hic — Science is stupid. I don't care about it, you know? And do you want — you wanna know why, Yoongi? Well, I'll t-tell you why —"

As he blinked emphatically at Yoongi, Seokjin must've somehow sensed you across the bar. He stopped dead in the middle of his unsolicited dissertation, wide-eyed with his jaw dropped, and gasped, "Baby!"

Before you could physically brace yourself for impact, he'd launched his clumsy frame out of his seat and collected you in his arms. Within seconds, without time to blink, his warm cheek was smushed against yours. Plush lips fluttered near your ear as he mumbled, "I missed you."

Of course, it'd only been a few hours since he last saw you, but he held you like you'd just returned from years at sea. Breathing deeply and contentedly, likely taking in the scent of your shampoo. Gently clutching the fabric of your jacket in his hands as if you'd float away otherwise. You had no desire whatsoever to burst that perfect, loving bubble, so you simply squeezed him tighter and told him that you'd missed him more.

Over his shoulder, you saw relief wash over Yoongi's face. No longer held hostage, he scooted himself out of the booth and immediately twisted in place to crack his back.

How long had he been stuck in there?

"Thank fuck," Yoongi sighed as he proceeded to crack his neck. He rolled his shoulders while answered the question you were about to ask, "Twenty entire minutes. Barely paused long enough to breathe, so I thought, shit — what if he dies here? I was scared I'd have to spend the rest of my days in this booth."

Seokjin, who still hadn't untangled himself from you, simply giggled. With his cheek remaining flush to yours, you could feel him grinning. He offered nothing whatsoever in his own defense, so Yoongi waved at you and turned to head off towards the restrooms.

You called out after him, prompting him to turn around. "What's so stupid about science?"

Yoongi's mouth stretched into a straight line across the entire bottom half of his face; his eyes narrowed to match. He heaved yet another sigh, gestured languidly to the half-cut fiancée clinging to you like a vest, and smirked, "He's convinced you hung the stars in the sky."

You would've melted into a puddle on the spot, but then Seokjin piped up and promptly shot your unsuspecting, lovestruck heart over the moon instead.

Abruptly changing the subject, he whispered — suddenly serious, as if it was the most important question in the world:

"Did you like the book, baby?"

[jemshopes]

Model My Clothes || Taegi

--Taegi touch starvation AU

After his last breakup almost two years prior, Yoongi moved to a quieter part of the city and his brother got him a job working at his construction company until Yoongi could find himself something more permanent. 

Yoongi now lives closer to the artists and the musicians of the city, the independent and peaceful coffee shops and bookshops and the places that sell handmade souvenirs and clothes. In his spare time he writes his own songs and performs in dimly lit corners of bars. He doesn’t particularly have big dreams of promoting his music or becoming famous from it. He just enjoys playing it and disappearing once his performances are over. He's content with his life, but often he finds himself craving intimacy late at night. With his last partner he had often fallen asleep in her arms. Even now it’s been two years and he doesn’t miss her anymore, he craves the intimacy of having someone. And yet he hasn’t quite been able to bring himself to start dating again. And he’s never been that into one night stands.

The routine he’s fallen into gets disrupted one day when he’s on his lunch break and has gone to get himself a coffee from his favourite shop. He's sitting at the counter, waiting for his drink, when a man sits beside him. Probably the most beautiful man yoongi has ever seen. 

He smiles at yoongi softly. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Yoongi says faintly, feeling his whole body grow warm. 

The man’s smile becomes a self-conscious grin as he twists to face Yoongi. “Okay, so this is probably a long shot, but I was wondering if you’ve ever considered modelling clothes?” 

“I—“ to say Yoongi is taken aback would be an understatement. He's covered in brick dust and other grime and his hard hat is lying at his elbow. “I-I can’t say I have.” 

“Would you be interested in trying it out? For money. I will pay you.”

Yoongi bites back a bemused smile. “Is this the part where you invite me to your apartment and actually you’re trying to take pictures of me naked?” 

The man laughs, a deep, warm sound. Then purses his lips. “It's not like that. It would be at my studio. I realise that sounds really dodgy, but I swear it’s not. I design my own clothes and I'm looking for people to model them. All you’d have to do is let me take some pictures of you wearing them. I can show some I've already done, if you like?”

“Sure. Why not?" Yoongi says. 

The man pulls out his phone and after a few taps shows the screen to Yoongi. 

Yoongi has to lean in close to see, but finds himself a little in awe. “You made these? they’re amazing.” 

“I embroider the patterns by hand,” the man says quietly.

“Why don’t you model them yourself?” Yoongi asks. Maybe he’s flirting. Maybe it makes him smile when the man’s cheeks turn pink. 

“I have in the past, but I find it embarrassing using those photographs to promote my stuff. I don't like looking at myself.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Yoongi says. 

“I'm also working on a project at the moment where I paint people wearing my clothes,” the man says carefully. “So it’s a little hard to model and paint myself at the same time.” 

“Painting as in a portrait kind of thing?”

“Something like that, yeah. I'd pay by the hour if you’re interested in that too.” 

“You’re serious?'' Yoongi asks incredulously. “You really want me to model clothes? You saw a dusty construction worker and were like yeah that's the guy for me?” 

“Well… if I'm totally honest I've thought you were the guy for me since I saw you performing here a few weeks ago,” the man says. 

It's Yoongi's turn to go pink. “So you're stalking me?” 

“No, I've been coming here for years. They hang my art up sometimes. Today I just saw an opportunity and took it.”

Yoongi tells himself he should say no. After all he’s never modelled and he’s bound to make a fool out of himself. but… “Well, maybe this is a day for taking opportunities then.” 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, why not? I'm Yoongi.” 

“Taehyung.” 

* * * 

And that is how Yoongi and Taehyung meet. Yoongi doesn’t really expect it to go any further than flirting, doing a little modelling and then parting ways. Taehyung can’t pay him much, but he doesn’t mind. 

He's self-conscious when he walks into Taehyung's studio, but it’s a nice kind of nerves that he hasn’t experienced in a long time. And everything is going well until Taehyung approaches him where he’s posing and takes hold of his waist to adjust his position slightly. It sends a jolt through Yoongi, a breathy sigh of satisfaction he hadn’t known was in him. It feels as though his whole body might go limp. It's euphoric. 

“Sorry,” he manages to mumble. “Cold hands.” 

Taehyung smiles. “I'll warm them up next time.” 

There isn’t a next time. At least not while Yoongi is being photographed or painted.

Taehyung pays him on the final day and as he walks Yoongi to the door he says, “This is all going to be displayed at a local gallery next week. Would you like to come with me and see?” 

“I don't know. I don't really like looking at myself.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Sure,” Yoongi laughs softly. “I'll come. Why not? 

“It's a date.” 

“Yeah. A date.” He likes the sound of that too much.

* * * 

The date is the first of several and yoongi finds himself surprised and a little frustrated that Taehyung is taking so long to kiss him. By so long, Yoongi means, it’s been two dates and he’s never found himself craving something so much in his life. The gallery opening was a wonderful night, full of flirting. Maybe Yoongi had had an internal freakout when Taehyung had put a hand on the small of his back, and maybe he had pretended to get a text from a friend so he could excuse himself early, but… but… okay, it’s Yoongi’s fault Taehyung hasn’t had a chance to kiss him yet. Maybe Yoongi isn’t ready for another relationship yet. Emotionally he’s still a bit of a mess.

He tells Taehyung that on their fourth date, sitting on a low stone wall on the pier, the sound of waves lapping at the shore is a calming noise in the background.

“My last relationship was two years ago. I literally moved across the city to get away from everything when we broke up. I thought I was in love, but then we started fighting and it never seemed to end. I haven't dated anyone since then, and I don't have feelings for her anymore, but I think I'm a bit of a mess from everything. I don't know how ready I am for a relationship.” 

“I understand,” Taehyung says. “If you're not ready then that’s okay. We don’t have to carry on seeing each other.” 

“No, I want to carry on seeing you,” Yoongi says hastily. “I kind of…” he grins awkwardly, embarrassed, “I feel better just having said all that. I just didn’t want you to think I was putting off kissing you because I didn't like you. It’s just a big step because if I’m going to date you I'd like there to be the possibility of us becoming serious. I don't really do casual relationships.”

“I really like you,” Taehyung says, big brown eyes sincere. “There’s a possibility.” 

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, looking down at his hands shyly. “Okay. Good.”

“I didn't think you were avoiding kissing me,” Taehyung says after a moment. “I haven't been with anyone in five years, so it makes me nervous… trying again. My best friend has been travelling the world for a year and a half, so I haven't had much physical contact of any kind for awhile. So now even touching your hand feels… like…”

Yoongi relaxes, eyes prickling. His head clouds when he touches Taehyung’s fingers lightly. Everything is blissful and a little too overwhelming, like he might melt. 

“I haven't been touched a whole lot either, in any way, since I moved. Most of my friends are still back there and we haven’t visited each other much and I haven't had any hookups or anything.” 

“I did think you might be,” Taehyung says thoughtfully. “You've seemed really sensitive to touch. Do you miss it?” 

“All the time,” Yoongi breathes. “Maybe, um, maybe you’d want to come back to my place tonight? Maybe not to have sex, maybe just to watch a film or something.”

Taehyung smiles. “Would you be okay with me kissing you sometime during the film?”

“Depends how good the film is.” 

“Can I pick the film?”

“Are you going to pick something bad on purpose so I'll be okay with you kissing me?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Okay then. Yeah. You can pick.”

* * *

Their first kiss is soft and sweet and Yoongi enjoys it very much, but if he’s honest he thinks they both enjoy being curled close on his couch more than anything else, hardly aware of the world around them.

Ngl if I turned this into a full length au the pining would last a lot longer and we'd see scenes of both of them crying to themselves about how much they need hugs.

[holdinbacksecrets]

hii lovely, do you have any fic recs?

actually while we’re at it, your writings and the things you reblog are just beautiful, do you have any book recs too?

i have so many! and thank you for sharing kind words 🖤

my bts side blog is @sayeuphoria and my fic rec tags are ‘sticky feelings’ and ‘sweet like honey’

i’ll also make a little list of my favorite fics and ones i go back to regularly. the majority of these are 18+. mdni

also, please interact with fics you love. reblog them! reblog them with tags! reblog them with comments! send an ask or message to the author! but please reblog. you know how good it feels to take yourself out for a little treat? that’s how reblogs feel, and they make writers want to keep writing. it warms the hearts of writers to know someone was touched by our work, and a part of a piece that we’re really proud of ended up being someone’s favorite part of the fic. plus, don’t you want others to read your favorite pieces?? reblog to help people find them 🖤 it’s a potluck, and if you aren’t bringing a dish (which is totally fine), at least be willing to slice and serve some cake!

Rattled by @gukslut i first read this series over the summer of 2021, and i think about it on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. i reread it every six months. it’s an absolute gem, impeccably written. one of my favorite jungkook’s i’ve ever read

My feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic i read this series as it was being posted last year, and i used to wake up so excited on the morning of a new chapter. this namjoon unleashed something in me, and i’ve been left craving love more than i used to. i love the presence of poetry too.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx this series was the first mafia au story i read and fucking loved. i’ve gone back to it so many times. i love the way hoseok’s perception of oc changes as the story progresses. oh so good and satisfying.

these blurbs by @darlingjoon tore me in half and stitched me back together

i’m a sucker for angst, and i love all the angst my lovely friend @taetaespeaches writes, especially for yoongi. perfection, but i’m going to drop some of my favorite titles of her fantastic, beautifully written work:

“i thought you left.” yoongi

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” yoongi

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.” yoongi

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.” taehyung

“Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” taehyung

“I may or may not have met someone.” taehyung

“You think I’d leave you if you falter?” jungkook

my @here2bbtstrash favorites:

deep end namjoon. this fic changed my life.

the shape of your body jimin

the spins jungkook

Love cafe by @chocosvt this jeonghan piece!!!!! AHHHHHHHH! the whole piece is amazing, but there were some scenes that were especially sweet and endearing. i remember sending a friend screenshots of dialogue freaking out.

i was so excited to share @by-moonflower-deactivated202401 bc their writing is incredible, piercing, and feels so nostalgic, but oh shit 😭😭 just learned they deactivated ☹️

book recs:

i’ve read almost everything by taylor jenkins reid, and i’ll recommend her books forever.

last year i read the book of azrael by amber v nicole and loved it. it’s a dark fantasy romance. i haven’t read the sequel yet.

this year, so far, i’ve read days at the morisaki bookshop. it’s a quick read but very sweet and comforting, with life lessons just beneath the surface. i’ve also read heavenly bodies by imani erriu. it had me screaming and kicking my feet. i posted about it here a few days ago. i’m reading the sequel right now.

dub finding ceremony by alexis pauline gumbs is a book i read my senior year of college, and it inspired a lot of writing for my independent studies prose class. braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer is another beautiful read.

[sweetestofchaos]

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢/𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜. 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚄 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜!𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚊𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢/𝚗 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷.𝟺𝙺 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎​​

𝐴/𝑁: 𝖡𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 @itaeewon

​𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 // 𝑁𝑒𝑥𝑡 // 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

After the third week of Y/N bailing on him for lunch, Namjoon was fed up. He was determined to find out who his friend was dating behind his back, even though Y/N swore up and down that it was just a friendly lunch to step out of the office every once in a while. Namjoon called bullshit the moment Y/N said it. Who did she think she was kidding? Namjoon wasn’t blind! He saw the way people in the office stared at y/n, the way she carried herself demanded attention even when y/n was doing the bare minimum; it was just the type of person she was. 

It was what caught Namjoon’s attention all those years back in college. Y/n walked into the room and Namjoon ended up catching the toe of his shoe on a seat as he stared at her. The papers in his hands went flying and he went crashing to the floor. Broke his glasses during the whole ordeal too and while everyone else laughed, y/n helped him clean up and made sure that he was okay. Ever since that day, y/n and Namjoon have been joined at the hip. One didn’t do much without the other and if they did, the other wasn’t too far away…more so Namjoon. He always made sure that y/n was safe, and people didn’t take advantage of her. So, to see y/n pull away and keep a secret from Namjoon, it hurt and wounded his pride a lot.

Thankfully, Namjoon’s answer to his dilemma came to him in the form of an email from Mrs. Hue herself. She wanted to host an office outing, a merger workshop to have both companies get a feel for their new counterparts. Namjoon agreed with the idea and handed it over to y/n to work on. It was going to be a major project for her, and Namjoon knew that she would put her all into it. Which meant no more lunch dates with her office buddy. In doing so, y/n worked closely with a young man named Jeon Jungkook, who was one half of Mrs. Hue’s head secretary dynamic duo. Namjoon didn’t have to worry about Jungkook at all, the kid was harmless…since he was engaged to Kim Taehyung, another man who owned his own bookshop. Namjoon did his research on both men, and they have been sweethearts since grade school.

Y/N was on zoom with Jungkook, going over the itinerary for the workshop when Yoongi came into view above her laptop. Y/N glanced at Yoongi and smiled softly before she turned her eyes back to Jungkook on the screen in front of her. Jungkook was talking about renting two or three houses in the city of Pocheon. They had the Hantangang Sky Bride that he thought would be a nice place to visit. Y/N wasn’t one for heights, but Jungkook was right, the city of Pocheon was the perfect place to host their office outing.

“Jungkook-ssi, I think we’ve reached a good place to stop for the day. I will look into the lodging for the employees today and email you a detailed report with my findings by early tomorrow morning.”

“That would be great, y/n-ssi! I already have a few places in mind that would work for the amount of people going on this trip. I will email the list to you shortly…is there anything else I can do on my end?”

Y/n smiled with a shake of her head, “I think you have gone above and beyond today, Jungkook-ssi. Thank you for your hard work.”

Jungkook seemed to preen under Y/n’s praise, and he offered her a short bow before he ended the zoom call. Once the screen was blank, Y/n turned her attention to Yoongi leaning on her desk with a lazy smile on his face.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” 

Yoongi lifted his arm and Y/N grinned seeing the familiar bag in his hand.

“Thought you might like a little afternoon pick me up.”

Yoongi sets the bag in front of Y/n, and she is quick to clasp his hand, “Min Yoongi, you are a Godsend! How did I-”

The door to Namjoon’s office opens and Yoongi smirks at the displeased look on Namjoon’s face at the sight of y/n and him holding hands. Y/N pulls her hands away from Yoongi and clears her throat seeing that the two men are staring at each other.

“Did you need something, Manager Kim?” Y/N questions and Namjoon turns his focus onto y/n seeing the concern on her face.

“What are you doing here, Manager Min? I don’t have an appointment with you.” Namjoon ignores y/n’s question and Yoongi shakes his head.

“Sorry, Manager Kim. I thought y/n-ssi could use something a little sweet to give her some energy. A few employees have complained that she’s been taking a working lunch for the last week and were worried about her.”

“Ah,” Namjoon steps away from his door and stands beside y/n’s seat, placing a hand on the back of her chair. “Tell them now to worry. Secretary y/n is doing her best to make sure this upcoming office trip is flawless.”

Yoongi nods his head at Namjoon’s words and glances down at y/n, “Enjoy your treat y/n-ssi. I’ll see you around.” Yoongi offers her a smile and y/n bows politely in her seat since Namjoon refuses to move so that she can bow properly. Yoongi turns his attention to Namjoon and offers him a bow before he walks off down the hallway, disappearing out of sight.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and y/n sighs, “Namjoon don’t start your shit. It’s just a snack.”

“I didn’t say anything, y/n.”

“Did you need something, Manager Kim?” Y/n questions again and Namjoon stares down at her. Y/n’s hair is twisted up into knotless braids that stop at the middle of her back in a half up half down hairstyle. Her outfit is cute, a burnt orange button up tucking into the waist of a plaid maroon skirt that stops just below her knees. A large brown chunky belt hugs her waist and complements the burnt orange suede heels that she’s wearing.

“Are those the shoes I got you from last year?” Namjoon changes the subject and Y/n looks down at the shoes, angling her feet to show them off better. “They look really good on you.”

“They’re really comfy too. I don’t have much to wear them with, but I thought they would work nicely with this outfit.”

Namjoon nods his head and leans against Y/N’s desk, folding his arms over his chest, “How’s the planning coming along?”

Y/N’s eyes falter at the mention of the office outing and she jumps right into everything that she has worked out with Jungkook. Namjoon listens to everything that y/n says with a blank face. He’s impressed by the amount of effort that y/n has put into the project, but he also feels a little guilty since she’s spending so much of her free time working on this as well.

“Would you like to go out tonight? Take a few hours to just relax? We could get a bite to eat and then go see a movie.” Namjoon offers and y/n shakes her head.

“I’m meeting up with Jungkook and Taehyung a little later after work. Tae thinks he’s come up with the perfect menu for the outing, so we’re going to try everything and see what would work the best.”

“Just the three of you?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow and y/n shrugs her shoulders.

“They probably invited a few of their friends since it’s at their place.”

“And you don’t want to invite me-”

“You’re the manager of the company. I don’t really think it would be professional to show up to their house with you.” Namjoon pouts and y/n rolls her eyes, “I’ll be sure to get a copy of the menu and I’ll cook everything for you, okay?”

“Just me?”

“Well, I’ll share with Yoongi-ssi since he’s always-” Namjoon crowds y/n’s space and she cranes her neck away from his face as he narrows his eyes. “What?”

Namjoon looks at the necklace around y/n’s throat and reaches out to touch it before y/n slaps his hand away. “Can you act like you have some type of sense? We’re working together, Joonie.” y/n scolds and Namjoon sighs, pulling away from y/n. 

“I’m leaving early for the day. I’ll let one of the drivers know to give you a ride home.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going right home after work.”

Namjoon nods his head and licks his lips, “Have fun with Jeon and Kim, don’t drink too much.”

“See you tomorrow, Joonie.”

​𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 // 𝑁𝑒𝑥𝑡

[bangtanhoneys]

What is the boys' love language with Grace?

Oooh good question!

Seokjin: Acts of service/Giving Gifts

So he's all for cooking for Grace if it's the two of them and he turns it into a mini-date night because why not. He's there when Grace needs something doing whether it's zipping up an outfit or helping her pack, if she needs something he'll be the first one to do it or offer to do it for her. And then giving gifts - if he sees something that reminds him of Grace, he's getting it for her. Maybe it has Manchester on it and he's buying it because it reminds him of her. Flowers for every special occasion because he can

Yoongi: Acts of Service/Quality Time

He'd be the one who wants to spend time with his noona. So he'll find ways to do that whether it's at the studio or if their in a new city for the tour - if he sees something she'd like to go and see then he's making plans. Sometimes it's just the two of them on the couch with tea and coffee, taking the moment to catch up even if they saw each other about four hours ago. And he's act of service in Grace's favourite mug has broken then he'll try and fix it otherwise he's getting a new one and he's another one who will cook for Grace if she wants. Might try out British dishes to test his skills

Hoseok: Giving gifts/Works of affirmation

Because he's Grace's fashionista, he's one who will be buying things he sees in clothes stores for her. A handbag catches his eye, he knows Grace will love it. Maybe a pair of shoes. Or even a headband. If it catches his eye and he knows Grace will love it, he's buying it. And with words of affirmation, he will tell Grace that he loves her as a sister and how much he cares for her.

Namjoon: Quality Time/Acts of Service

They'll Namjoon together if there's time. A museum that Namjoon wants to go to, Grace is normally his partner. A fancy dinner they have to go to, Namjoon is her partner. Bookshops all the time. They have a dedicated bookcase for just the two of them. They have deep conversations just the two of them or they'll help each other with languages. And acts of service, is him helping her with lyrics, her career, other projects that might need his input. His door is always open for her anytime for anything.

Jimin: Physical affection/Quality time

Cuddles all the time! Hugs all the time! Best member to go to when you've had a bad day and Jimin is there when he knows Grace has had one of those - cup of tea, heating on, hot bath, fluffy socks and will pamper her by doing her skincare for her. His physical affection goes with his quality time - he'll hold hands with his noona wherever they go because he's protecting her and making sure she's okay. If their going somewhere just the two of them, it's normally for something they'll both enjoy.

Taehyung: Giving Gifts/Physical Affection

Once again, another of Grace's fashionistas so he'll do the same as Hobi but in designer shops. There's a dress in Gucci which he knows will look perfect on Grace, he's sending it to their stylists to adapt for their performances or red carpets. Like's to buy cute but odd things. Bought her a spice rack because it was blue and had seashells on it. And then physical affection: in the early days, because he's a koala, he'd cling to Grace because everything was new and different. Or he'd sneak into her room to sleep at the bottom of her bed, because he just needed her comforting smell. But he has to touch her so he knows she's there.

Jungkook: Physical affection/Quality time/Acts of service

Like Tae, has to touch her so he knows she's there and like Tae, mostly ends up sleeping next to her. Takes her hand to play with at award shows because he needs distraction or gives her shoulders a massage because he wants to. They have a dedicated time with each other and no one will interrupt it, no matter where they are. It's their time and they do whatever they want. And with acts of service, he's there getting her coat, shoes, bag, whatever she needs. She needs vegetables chopping, he's there ready. She needs someone to grab the heavy suitcase, he's the first there.

[rainbowsuitcase]

The Debut Poster Colors

After miraculously finding this poster in a local bookshop, I put it up on my wall right opposite my bed, which means I've been staring at it a lot.

Meaning, I've noticed the color scheme. All the clothes and accessories are white, black, or gold. Exept for Yoongi's soles, which are pink and blue.

You know what else is pink and blue?

Disclaimer: This theory is unhinged, I'm just having fun and though yes, Yoongi has arguably hinted several times that he's not straight, nothing I say here is meant as a fact in any way, shape or form, but.

They couldn't have made him put his foot down? Wear different shoes? Pose him in a way where his shoes wouldn't be visible like some of the other members? Did somehow no one notice?

On one hand, it is frustrating in a very stupid way, that this one thing is breaking the color scheme when it could have been easily avoided. On the other hand, it is absolutely hilarious for the very same reason. Dare I say Yoongi has been bi-signaling since day one?

[moni-logues]

@eoieopda tagged me in the wip game!

post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. let people send you an ask with any titles most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

Alone on birthday drabble series

Amethyst birthday fic

Bookshop collab

Document1

Kintsugi chap 1

Kintsugi outline v2

Kintsugi

Love Talk

Missed Connections

Using your safe word

Wedding night

You're a wizard, hyungline Yoongi

I'm tagging @amethystwritesbts @minisugakoobies @btsgotjams27 @minttangerines (because yes one of these days I am going to make you admit you're a writer!!!!!) @ugh-yoongi @jeonqkooks @blog-name-idk @gimmethatagustd and omg I have to tag TWELVE people? Can I just say all the kintsugi ones count as one? 😭 idk who hasn't been tagged yet this is stressing me out lmao

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (3)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4k

— 🍄 summary: the coroner of Farrow's End finally invites you into his kingdom, and you can feel more than one set of watching eyes as you continue your investigation.

— ☕ content warnings: coroner!taehyung, assistant!jungkook, mentions of murder/death/suicide

— 🕸️ a/n: meeting more of the boys!!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 3: into the morgue

"Have her come in," Taehyung says over dinner.

There's a collective clang as several sets of silverware are put down.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, hyung," Jungkook replies. He's nervous around you, especially because you can see more than you let on.

"We're going to have to eventually," Namjoon adds, and Jimin sends him a mischievous, knowing look. He knows how Joon likes to watch you in the bookshop, offering his assistance at his earliest convenience, asking if you need help finding anything specific.

"It's obvious she was hired by the mayor," Yoongi says. "Though, I'm not entirely sure why."

They all know that Mayor Summerbee runs in some of the same circles that they do, but they wonder if you're aware of that fact too. How much did she tell you?

"At the very least, it'll tell us what she already knows," Yoongi says.

"And if she scares easily," Taehyung adds, suppressing a smirk.

What kind of private investigator are you? Are you motivated by self interests? Are you just here to get the job done, bare minimum? Or are you the morbidly curious type? The kind that can't stop until a mystery is solved, even if it leads you to dangerous places.

Yoongi and Namjoon already have a guess at which type you are.

"She has some kind of sight," Jungkook says, biting his nails. The real question is how sharp is that sight?

"I don't think she knows that she has it," Jin pipes in.

They exchange glances, thinking.

"Well," Hoseok says, and they all turn to look at him. "I suppose we'll just have to test it."

september 27, 2004

You've seen your fair share of coroners. Good ones, even excellent ones, and the ones who never should've been appointed to the job in the first place. Most people aren't aware that there is no national standard for coroners, some don't even have medical training.

You remember a case not too long ago when a family mourning the loss of their son hired you to investigate the circumstances of his death, which was ruled "accidental" at the time. The coroner had not had any prior forensic training, he was an OBGYN turned politician. Elected by the small-town voters (nearly 80% of coroners in the U.S. are elected, by the way), he was cushy with the local police force.

And being your naturally suspicious self, or maybe it's a side effect of your job, you pressed for a second autopsy by an examiner actually worth his salt.

The external examination alone proved that it was far from accidental. His wounds suggested severe beating, and his cause of death was suffocation from being choked, homicide not accident.

Further investigation revealed police brutality. You pushed and pushed and pushed, and after being enough of a pain in the ass (and threatening several lawsuits), they finally convicted the officers responsible.

The family still sends you a Christmas card every year, and it more than makes up for being a pain in the ass for living.

So yeah, you don't trust coroners, or their reports, until you get the chance to evaluate their level of competence for yourself. And the fact that the coroner of Farrow's End has been so resistant to your attempts to contact him doesn't bode well.

But today, the Monday following your little expedition up to the Addam's House, he's finally available to see you. Last night you received a call at around midnight, seemingly from the same young man you saw on the other side of the gate the other day.

Of course you were awake, but you wondered why the coroner's office would be up and running at such an hour. Maybe a late night emergency autopsy? It wasn't unheard of, sometimes a Sheriff will request an autopsy to be completed as soon as possible when the press are particularly bothersome and the cause of death is unclear.

You didn't get the chance to ask, because the man started rattling off about how the coroner would be able to see you tomorrow morning, and he advised that you bring any notes you might have.

Good sign, it suggests that the coroner is willing to work with you.

It's early, maybe a little too early. The fog is blanket-thick and the clouds are sprinkling down a fine mist of rain.

You take your car as far as the rocky dirt road allows, park it at the base of the hill, and trudge on through the mud, the umbrella over your head immediately collecting dew.

You reach the gate, closed like last time. When you reach for it, you're expecting to find it locked, but just as your fingers are about to touch the cold metal, the gate swings open with a long creak.

You stand there for a moment, searching for some kind of mechanism that would make it open by itself, but you find nothing but old iron forged in intricate patterns.

Whatever, you've seen weirder. You slip through the parted gates and close them behind you.

Gigantic trees, pines it looks like, envelop the perimeter of the surrounding gates, with twisting, leafless trees in abundance nearer to the house, even though fall is just beginning to dawn and most leaves haven't even begun to change color yet.

You didn't notice it before, but these leafless trees are full of crows, black tufts perched on the reaching branches. No, crows and ravens. They call out as you pass by, and you get the odd sense that every single one of them is looking at you.

The cobblestone path leading up to the front door is overgrown with weeds. The exterior of the house, now that you can see it up close, is almost decrepit. The wood is rotting, the roof is sagging, the windows are dirty and smudged.

They rent this place out?

"Ma'am!" a voice calls out.

You search for the owner of the voice, finally finding it at the side of the house. It's the young man from the other day, peeking around a brick corner. He gestures you over and swiftly disappears again.

When you turn the corner, the man is standing by a double hatch door in the ground. Not a good sign for a supposed "morgue."

He seems to read as much on your face, because then he's saying, "I would take you down the elevator inside, but everyone is still asleep."

There's a childish nervousness in his voice, and it makes you send an uncharacteristic smile his way as you step through the door and down a spiral staircase.

Distracted, you don't see the curtains twitch, and the several faces in the windows above, watching.

The passage runs deep. You emerge in a wide hallway, lined with carved wooden walls and old portraits. The foundation is clearly old, but there are newly installed fluorescent lights that don't do the original craftsmanship justice.

"How old is this house?" you blurt out, and the young man can't suppress a high, boyish laugh.

"I'm not sure, around a century, I think," he says.

Wow hard to believe it's gone untouched for so long, you think as he leads you down the extensive hallway, passing several branching doorways.

Your eyes drink everything in, curious and scrutinous. Again, the man seems to read your mind.

"It might not look it, but we have a state of the art facility here," he begins.

"Crematorium," he gestures to one door. "Viewing room. Embalming room. Autopsy room. And the largest refrigeration unit in five counties."

This place is extensive, and the further you go, the cleaner and more modern it gets.

You notice that the man is wearing similar clothing from before: a large coat (broad shoulders) and big, thick boots. Black, laced up over his ankles it appears, it makes the thud of his footsteps echo against the walls.

You wonder if they are corpse-handling boots, or merely a style choice.

"Here's the office," he says, leading you into a small but cozy room fit with a cluttered desk and a few dusty but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"You can have a seat if you like," he says, nervousness creeping back into his voice.

You take him up on the offer, sinking into one of the armchairs despite the fact that you're a little damp from the rain. But judging by the state of the chairs, you doubt it would bother them.

It's then than you realize how chilly it is down here, in this basement maze tucked under an ancient house. Damn, you're so—

"Cold?" the man says suddenly. "I'm sorry, we get quite the chill down here. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

You perk up almost instantly.

"Coffee, please," you reply maybe a little too perkily, because it makes him smile at you, exposing those bunny teeth again. Very cute.

He disappears through another doorway, into some sort of kitchenette judging by the sounds coming from it (metal banging, water running, porcelain clanking).

You take a look around. The office walls are lined with framed photos and plaques all boasting the same name: Kim Taehyung. Bachelor of Science in Biology, Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Master of Forensic Science, Embalmer's License, Medical Examiner Certification, Doctor of Medicine.

Got it, this man is learned. Good sign.

The young man returns with a silver tray in his hands. He sets it down on the ottoman between the two armchairs, grasping the black teapot and pouring fresh steaming coffee into a matching black teacup. You notice that the sugar cubes are in the shape of skulls and bones, and a part of you admires the dedication to the aesthetic.

You prepare your cup and sip greedily. The coffee is rich and strongly-brewed. Another good sign. It may not contribute to your investigation, but at least you can respect him as a person.

The young man takes the seat next to you and prepares his own cup.

For the first time since you arrived, you aren't distracted by your surroundings, and you're realizing just how strange this young man looks.

His skin is a dull shade of gray, with slight red blemishes and spots of dark purple flesh that look like deep bruises. His lips are simultaneously pale yet also tinged red, like there's blood inside his mouth. And his eyes, they look like—

The man seems to notice you staring at him, because he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and coughs awkwardly.

You blink, and his form seems to blur at the edges, becoming fuzzier and harder to latch onto. Maybe he has some sort of skin condition. But that wouldn't explain the feeling that something isn't quite right about him, something uncanny.

"I'll go see if Dr. Kim is ready for you," he says, practically sprinting out of his seat and out of the room. You hear his footsteps pounding through the halls, then hushed voices.

You being you, the debate over whether to slip through the hall to eavesdrop on their conversation does cross your mind. But you figured that even with your silent feet, they would probably still hear you rustling around in the quiet of the morgue.

A few moments later, and you hear one set of footsteps returning to the office. The young man pops his head into the doorway.

"He'll see you now," he says, vanishing just as fast. The way he appears and disappears like a ghost is starting to give you whiplash.

You follow him down the hall, entering a fluorescent-lit room fit with chrome features. The walls are lined with little doors, drawer openings, and there are several gurneys scattered throughout the room. The chill is even stronger here, this must be part of that state of the art refrigeration system.

The man standing in the center of it all is wearing a white medical gown and black latex gloves. He looks up as you enter, and—

Oh. He's young, startlingly young, early thirties max. His skin is golden tan over strong, handsome features. Dark tiger eyes, sharp and perceptive. The only indicator of his age is several tendrils of silver hair growing from the crown of his head.

"Good morning," he greets in a deep, charming voice. "Miss ______?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim?" you reply, holding out a hand.

"Just Taehyung, please," he says, taking off his gloves to shake your hand firmly, and jesus his hands are large and very pretty.

Ah, so he's not a pretentious asshole who insists on being addressed as "doctor" constantly. Another good sign. Though, judging from his extensive education, in this case it would be justified.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't see you sooner. It can get quite busy with just the two of us down here," Taehyung says.

You can't help but take another glance around the room. Only two people running this whole facility?

"I understand that you're working with the mayor?" Taehyung inquires, his casual voice good at hiding his burning curiosity.

You, in turn, are good at hiding the slight suspicion from hearing the mayor mentioned yet again. You're not sure who you're suspicious of though, him or the mayor herself.

"Yes, I was hoping I could get copies of the autopsy reports for Michael Bradley, Jarvis Laplan, and Sharon Mason."

You say it matter-of-factly, curious if they will bend at the slight flex of authority in your voice. Or, if being associated with the mayor yields certain results.

The two of them glance at each other.

"Access to Laplan and Mason aren't a problem, but Mary Bradley has requested that no further information on her husband's death be released," Dr. Kim replies, cool as a cucumber.

Your eyes widen just a bit, unable to hide your surprise. Wait...what? He would just give you the reports for Laplan and Mason, just like that? No request for credentials? No questions asked?

Truth be told, you've never gotten hold of an autopsy report after the first ask. You've always had to jump through hoops to get the right permissions and authorizations, as is the case for private investigators since they are not real police. And rightly so, the fine details of people's violent deaths is not something to be made light of, in your opinion.

Clearly your confusion is evident on your face, because then Taehyung is saying, "Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's parents are quite eager for further investigation."

Ah, so they suspect something unusual too. Hopefully they'll be more than willing for an interview.

"And Bradley...?" your voice trails off with the question.

Taehyung furrows his brows like he isn't sure how exactly to put it.

"Mrs. Bradley has had a bad experience with the press," is all he says.

You can feel your eyebrow raise.

"Is she still a suspect?" you ask, deadpan.

Taehyung is quick to correct himself.

"No, god no!" he says, eyes wide and head shaking. "His death was purely accidental, a tragedy that could've been avoided."

Your attention catches on that last part like a snagged thread on a nailhead.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" you ask, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Jungkook, who's silently watching the whole exchange, can't help but think it makes you look predatory, a hunter locked onto their target with frightening accuracy.

But Dr. Kim doesn't bend. He tilts his head ever so slightly as the corner of his mouth curves up, like he respects your drive.

"Well, Michael Bradley exhibited signs of extreme mental distress, many of them suggestive of suicide."

"But you don't think it was suicide, do you?" you say, before you can help it really, because your mind is running a hundred miles a minute right now.

Jungkook can sense it too, his eyes Bambi-wide and watching in fascination as the cogs turn in your analytical brain.

"No, I don't." It comes from Taehyung's mouth like a sigh. You don't see it (Jungkook does), but he's impressed.

"That's all I can say really," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding apologetic. "You'll have to speak with Mrs. Bradley about getting access, but talking about her husband is painful for her. And she's been through enough."

He cares about people, the ones he works on are not just bodies to him. Very good sign. You're coming to the conclusion than Dr. Kim is definitely a coroner worth his salt.

"I'll be sure to proceed delicately, then," you reply softly. You're trying to say it back. I care about these victims, this isn't just a case to me. Everyone has a story.

He seems to get it, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Something very small, almost ghostly, clicks between you.

Jungkook observes it all in a slight state of awe. He can already tell that the rest of them, his "family," are going to like you.

Taehyung gives you the copies of the autopsy reports, a sizable stack of folders and papers and photos. He even gives you a copy of the autopsy transcript.

You realize that he was prepared to give you this information before you even got here. Either Mayor Summerbee is a very persuasive person, or Dr. Kim is eager to work with you. Maybe both.

Your point is proven seconds later when Taehyung hands you a business card (with his personal number scrawled on the back), as he tells you that you're free to contact him with any questions you might have.

You profess your thanks with an armful of documents, making a point to shake Dr. Kim's and Jungkook's hand firmly.

Jungkook leads you back, his boots softly thudding with every step, and you can feel Taehyung's eyes on your back as you walk through down the long hallway.

Jungkook is kind. He offers to help you with the massive stack of documents in your arms, but you politely refuse. You've got liquid gold in your possession.

He holds the gate open for you, even offering to walk you to your car, but again, you decline and thank him for his offer.

The gate shuts behind you with a resonate clang. As you turn away from the house to begin the trek down the muddy hill, you feel an odd sensation, like tingling insects down your back.

Looking over your shoulder, you see the curtains of several windows suddenly fall back into place. Someone, several someone's, are watching you.

You can't find it in you to be creeped out, though. Something about this house, despite its run-down appearance, is welcoming. Beckoning, even.

It's dark and old and practically falling apart, but many things that you love also happen to have those same traits.

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you turn and make your way down the path. You'll have to find out more about this place.

"Again. She saw through my glamour again," Jungkook announces to the room, sounding slightly defeated.

"Don't worry, Kook. It's a solid spell, I checked it myself," Yoongi replies as he waters one of the endless houseplants adorning their home. Thanks to Yoongi himself, of course.

"She saw through mine too," Taehyung says, resolute. He's staring at the black and white checkered floor, deep in thought.

Everyone looks up at that.

"That proves it then," Namjoon says. "She has a heightened degree of sight."

"I wanna know why though," Yoongi interrupts in a sudden bout of passion. "She's human. Why is she able to see everything?"

"Not the house though," Jungkook blurts out. "The glamour on the house held up."

"Of course it did, the house magick is stronger than any of us," Jin quips from the kitchen, standing over a sizzling stove.

"Lots of humans have the sight," Jimin says lazily, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs.

"Yeah, but it's the type of humans who turn it into a cheap gimmick," Jungkook replies, pacing around the room now.

Taehyung crosses the distance between them in a few strides, putting a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The younger man looks up at him, then lets out a breath and returns the smile.

"You're safe, Kook," Taehyung says softly. "No one's gonna put up a fuss."

Jimin chuckles. "She might."

Taehyung throws a scolding glance over his shoulder. "A real fuss, I mean. Everything's been kept under wraps so far."

"And she's not a phony, or a leech. The mayor made sure of that," Yoongi says.

"In any case," Jin begins, an authoritative edge to his voice. "Hoseok said to keep an eye on her, so that's just what we'll do."

september 28, 2004

You may be a damn good investigator, but you're no med student. So the next day you set out to the bookstore, determined to understand every last term and phrase in the autopsy reports.

The same man is behind the desk, but this time he's bent over a typewriter, clacking away. You can't help but observe him for a moment, watching as his dark eyes dart over the page, the way his glasses rest at the edge of his nose like a wizened old man.

"Welcome in," he calls out at the chime of the bell on the door, like an instinct.

You take a few steps into the ever-crowded space, your eyes shifting over all the things you missed the last time you were here. Because that's what kind of place this is, somewhere you could go a hundred times and find something new each visit. Places like this are quite dear to you.

You're about to examine a shelf full of perfectly preserved beetles, when you sense the man look up at you.

"Oh," he says, like he's pleasantly surprised. "It's you."

And you would be lying if you said it didn't make your gut feel something warm squirming inside it.

"Need help finding anything?" he asks, like he has every time you've visited this place.

"Yes, please," you reply, barely hiding your smile.

He leads you through the maze of shelves like it's a map of his own brain. Several times you have to hurry to catch up to him in his excitement.

Soon your arms are occupied by an impressive stack. Anatomy, general medical knowledge, crime scene identification, even a few textbooks on post-mortem examinations.

To you, it's more liquid gold. You profess your thanks to the bookshop keeper, dropping a generous tip into the jar when you go to checkout. Again, the books are almost too reasonably priced. Not that it matters, since research purchases are an easy business expense ride-off.

Just as you turn to leave, the man clears his throat awkwardly, like he's building himself up to speak.

"There's plenty of places to sit here," he almost blurts out. "Lots of cozy nooks. Perfect for...research."

You pause at the door to glance back at him. You find him watching you closely, his expression somewhere between innocently curious and suggestive of hidden knowledge on his part.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply, a little teasing lilt to your voice. Because clearly he enjoys your company too.

Then you turn on your heel and let the door swing shut behind you, leaving him wanting more.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would combust with joy if you'd tell me any of your thoughts :D

NEXT UPDATE: 05/25/24

[ilys00ga]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

pairing: yoongi x female reader.

synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?

genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, first encounters.

warnings: cheating, heartbreak, slight mentions of depression, failed past relationship, smoking. this is pure fiction ⚠️ !!

A/N: sorry for any typos or mistakes. just enjoy, pls :)! also, I might write a second part for this one. idk, tho.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

- incoming message: "saera <3: are you ditching at the last minute?"

the screen read.

oppening the door to the hall in which everyone was already sat, you made your way into the room as quietly and as quickly as possible. and with your eyes scanning around in an attempt to spot your usual group of friends, a wave of relief washed over you upon finally spotting them.

"finally! was almost certain you won't be showing up." your friend, saera, muttered under her breath and pulled you to sit closer by her side.

"why wouldn't I?" you scoffed at first, but continued with a more serious tone upon seeing the concerned look her face held, "I'm sorry, I... got distracted."

"distracted?" her brow rose in a stern question, before slowly shaking her head in defeat. "right. seriously though, if you feel like it's too much just say the word and we'll leave."

"no, I'll leave and you'll stay and have all the fun here. I won't let my messed up past ruin this for you too." you argued.

"hey-!"

"I'm fine, I promise. I wouldn't be here if I weren't. we need to drop this topic now." you took her hands in yours, looking into her eyes with a serious expression, and she silently nodded her head after a few seconds. you smiled at her in thanks before turning to greet Jimin and Jisung, your other friends from work who were sitting right behind the two of you.

"how are you boys doing?"

"I'd be better if it weren't for this ridiculous dress code we had to follow." Jisung pointed to the pink hat he was wearing with a frown. Soyoon, the bride and your dearest friend, had insisted on setting a dress code for all the guests. everyone had to wear anything as long as it's not black - "black is boring! this is a wedding! MY wedding!" - or crazy-colorful, along with a special piece - a pink hat or a pink hair clip. something pink, you do you.

no one understood this weird dress code, yet no one dared to complain, simply trying to style their options as best as they could. and in her defense, sweet, typical Soyoon said she wanted to play around and test her guests for fun.

"talking as if you wouldn't wear the most ridiculous looking outfits on random work days all in the name of fashion." jimin chimed in to tease the other whining man, making saera laugh. the room fell silent, and the ceremony began shortly after they started their usual bickering war of words.

in your honest opinion, Soyoon was a very gorgeous woman. she was always well presented and beautiful. however, as she stood before the crowd with her smile so big and radiant, she looked like a literal princess. you stared at your best friend in pure awe because you're genuinely happy for her. so, so happy. and you ignored the feeling that weighted down on your heart as your mind clung back to the day you wore your own white gown and your own veil, all to cherish this precious moment. to celebrate with your loved ones.

just like that, the vows were pronounced and the husband kissed his bride. cheers and claps filled the room, and everyone moved to congratulate the newly wedded lovers. yet the party is still very young.

you stood aside for a while, allowing yourself to drink in the beautiful sight of pure happiness and love, reminding yourself that the world is still moving even though you were busy being stuck in the past. you observed until the tornado that's been brewing in your chest grew violent before walking out of the scene, out and towards the small lake situated not far away from the building.

it's been exactly eight months and a couple of days since you've stood in front of your own wedding venue. eight-going-nine months since you got your heart broken.

maybe you were just a coward, too scared to face your own emotions, but it's not like you chose not to attend one all this time. you just couldn't. no matter how hard you tried to overcome the pain, the wound was still so fresh, and it only seemed to be getting bigger than you, swallowing you alive.

the pain of seeing the person you were so bewitched by, to whom you were ready to spend the rest of your life being committed, the one you loved with your entire heart inside some random room in the same venue the two of you chose to finally celebrate your love, all pressed up against the wall with another woman. kissing and doing things you decided not to even attempt to think about or recall.

at the time, it took you a good five minutes to get yourself together, to look closely to confirm that what you saw was indeed real and not just some messed up image your pre-wedding anxiety was trying to print into your brain, before sprinting out of the building and running far, far away from everything. running despite your legs feeling like they could explode at any given moment. you ran until you reached an empty unknown, crouching down and spilling your heart through your eyes and across your cold cheeks as you cried and cried and cried with the wind slapping against your skin.

from then on, you could never attend a wedding. no matter who the loved one was to you, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. all you could do was smile apologetically as you politely rejected their invitation. and they understood because they knew.

eight months and there you were. numb body sitting on a bench, with a little cigarette between a thumb and an index, pulling and exhaling every now and then as you let the calm of the lake and the green of the grass, along with the color of the flowers do their favorite game of soothing your heart.

part of you wished you were the smoke that rose and flourished in the sky, giving its weight and color up to become one with the wind.

"not a fan of parties too?" a voice that sounded concerned, but very timid and gentle, broke the silence. almost like it was too ashamed of announcing its own presence. and if its deepness startled you, you didn't let it show. Instead, you lifted your head and saw a man standing close by, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark blue trousers and head tilted slightly in question.

"mind if i join you?" the sight of him scratching the nape of his neck with an awkward smile triggered your own smile, but you really weren't in the mood, so you wordlessly nodded towards the empty spot next to you and he didn't comment on that.

"it's more about the event itself rather than the crowd." you took a cigarette out of your purse and extended it to the pale skinned man.

"well, then we're not as similar as I assumed. and for that, I apologize." he mused, accepting your offer with a smile. you watch as he put it between his lips and leaned in towards the lighter you held out for him. "thanks" he nodded, taking a long pull and sighing as he breathed out and goaned in satisfaction.

you didn't know what to say, how to lay it out to him. in fact, you weren't even sure if you should let him know. after all, he was a stranger that you've never seen before. but your heart squeezed with a sudden need to talk, to explain why and how you were so messed up, while your brains insisted no.

you shook your head with a sigh, trying to think of something to say when the man caught you off guard with a question, "do you like playing UNO?"

snapping your head towaards him, you saw him holding a box of UNO cards, waving it slightly and proudly showing it off to you with a smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at that.

"why did you carry UNO cards with you to a wedding?" he chuckled with a shrug before sheepishly admitting that he bought it as a gift for his little niece.

"do you want to play, yes or no?" he smirked and narrowed his eyes in a teasing manner.

"gosh. open it already."

he does as he's told, scooting a little farther than you to make a little space in which the two of you started playing the silly little game.

"how do you know Soyoon?" the man wondered aloud.

"she's my best friend slash co-worker. what about you?"

"her brother, yoongi." he simply answered. you knew Soyoon had a brother before, but you never got to meet or even ask about him.

"it's an honor to finally meet you, then. I'm ___."

"i know you, soyoon talked about you and a couple of other friends before." yoongi smiled shyly, everting his eyes to focus back on the game.

"you seem pretty good at this, wasn't expecting that, to be honest." yoongi hummed at your teasing comment, picking a card, a plus two card, when it was his turn and putting it atop the pilled up ones in the middle. "glad you're having fun. I was afraid you would stick to your frown for the rest of the ceremony and never show us your cute smile."

heat rushed through your face, tinting your cheeks as his words, along with his slick move and the smirk on his face settle in your head.

"you didn't seem happy." he explained further, locking his eyes with yours, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to brush your brush off and continued to play.

"I don't really fancy weddings." you said.

"understandable. I don't fancy parties and public places either."

"yeah, but your circumstances are probably very different from mine."

he snorts "social anxiety is social anxiety."

"did you get your heart broken from an ex fiancé, soon-to-be husband like i did?" you failed to fight the bite in your tone, and your face hardened for a moment before softening again when he didn't respond with anything.

"sorry about that." you apologized.

"it's fine." he smiled.

your little bubble was popped open when a feminine voice called out your name, saera was waving for you to come over. you let out a small "oh" and faced yoongi who scrunched his nose in response, "guess the game's over." he stood up and offered his hand for you.

"for now," you noted, taking his hand and standing up as well, "we still didn't see who's the winner."

for a brief moment, you looked down at the cards you were still holding in your other hand, and then met his eyes again, "it was a lovely game can't wait to see again and beat you at last."

you could feel your hands shaking slightly, hesitating before extending a reverse card towards him with a shy smile. yoongi stared dumbfoundedly at first, then took the card with an equally shy smile.

"I'll be eagerly waiting, then."

you two started towards the building, with you taking rushed steps thanks to the way saera's been signaling for you to hurry up! and you didn't miss her little smirk when you finally reached her, nor the way she discreetly tilted her head towards the other man who was still a few steps far behind.

"I've seen a lot, but playing card games as a first interaction in a ceremony is quite new to me." she linked her arm with yours and guided you towards the main hall, where everyone was still chatting and enjoying their time.

"the party's ending, let's go say bye to the bride!" you ignored her comment with a cheer.

"my girls!" soyoon greeted with her arms open wide for the two of you.

"our beautiful, beautiful bride!" and saera cheered just with an equal amount of joy.

the bride pulled away to look at you with a grateful smile, "thank you so much for being here."

"oh please, did you expect me to really ditch your special day because of some stupid past drama?!" you scoffed.

"I know how hard it's been for you, my dear. I'm so glad you're here."

"it's really nothing." you insist.

"yeah, she was having fun with your brother out there, don't worry about her." saera winked with a mischievous smile, which pulled a gasp from soyoon, startled.

"wait what?!"

"oh my god. stop, you two. we just talked a little bit. I've never got to meet him before." you whined.

"neither did I!" saera fired back.

"well, I'm not gonna lie, you two are a good material." soyoon smirked and giggled with saera. both of them always loved to tease you.

"I'm leaving!"

"don't forget, we're having a sleepover this weekend!" you roll your eyes at saera before bidding you goodbye, hugging the girls one last time and leaving with a weirdly much lighter heart.

[derireo-galge]

Feral Attraction | 5k | yoonmin✍🏼

In a modern society where any beta/alpha/omega who ever gone feral before having to wear a warning collar in public Yoongi is surprised when he catches an interest of a young sweet alpha Jimin.

[ mentions of harassment | angst with a happy ending | alpha jimin | omega yoongi | sassy yoongi ]

❀Yoongi⛓

He heard the steps before seeing anything.

In a dirty alley there were multiple heavy thumps, fast paced steps following him.

Yoongi was running as fast as possible though not fast enough - the steps caught up with him slicing his life in half: before and after.

The previous events were as innocent as they could get: Jungkook and him were having their usual lunch picnic - a blissful day when their schedules aligned this year with same time window right after lunch break.

So this year they could hang out and chat, spend some quality omega time together as they call it.

If not for the members of Jungkook "fanclub".

The "club" mostly consisted of alphas, male and female alike and they were one of the worst breeds.

They'd invade his privacy by stalking him, hanging around his gym, his favourite bookshop, cafe, outside the lecture halls.

Because of course the creeps knew his entire schedule somehow. They were rumored to have a group chat where they'd share his location and the photos they took of him without him knowing.

The young omega wouldn't mind the photos for university events - a conference he was a participant of, student exhibits he helped at or volleyball matches he took part in. But any other time - that was just weird.

Luckily Jungkook's older friend - that owned the same bookshop the fan club was aware of - has managed to expose that chat and they kept quiet for a week. Still, the stalking didn't stop as well as invasive gifts.

Mostly they were clothes with notes full of hope the younger would wear them, claiming he should wear this style often, that's that is who he is, et cetera. That was pretty disturbing if you ask any reasonable person out there.

The pressure and expectations people who the omega didn't even know were putting on him just because he was "popular" - it was insane. Yoongi almost convinced him to file numerous complaints.

He almost got there, planning to just hand him the printed forms he obtained from the police station the other day.

The younger was a sweet friend of his that he immediately took a liking to and wanted to protect at all cost.

He often helped him in basic classes and shared notes from previous years that might be of use to him.

He was the hyung, he took it very seriously, making sure Jungkook was fed and drank enough water, helping him choose nesting materials when they went shopping and praising his clothing style.

Their usual chill time was rudely interrupted.

Several alphas surrounded them, shading the afternoon sun and assaulting their noses with their awful scents. Yoongi got up to get Jungkook and get away only to be pushed aside and fall into the grass.

When he lifted his face he saw the alphas trying to drag his friend away, not caring he was already jabbing at them, standing in a professional stance.

But unfortunately the hormones driven knotheads were physically hard to overpower, like drug addicts on meth.

Yoongi saw red.

The veins on his hands popped so much they looked dark blue. He started yowling and growling, feeling saliva foaming at his mouth and dripping down his chin.

He was preparing to jump them when he saw a patrol group heading their way.

Luckily they tackled the alphas first but what he did could't go unnoticed either.

Stupidly, he ran. And was running as fast as he could with his body losing the adrenaline, relaxing to a normal state now that he saw the threat to his friend gone.

He turned into a narrow alley not even hoping to escape. They already saw his face. Yoongi ran until the sounds of steps caught up with him and strong hands in uniform grabbed him, restraining his movements.

Life is balanced, he thought, seeing two middle aged ladies that didn't even handcuff him, just led to the police car.

Luck indeed, they were a beta and an omega and were very understanding to his situation.

He broke down in their office, wrapped in an unscented blanket with a cola in his shaking hands.

They issued him a warning collar to wear at all times when he was outside and they had to notify the university and his workplace too.

And that was about it. He's heard stories, fear inducing stories where wolves would be cuffed, jailed for a week in the station or at special facilities, they would get fired and tested and watched.

But none of that happened.

The lady officers were kind and understanding. And by the time he was free to go home they almost convinced him it was just a formality.

They advised him to put it on himself. Maybe to bring back the illusion of him having control over things. Or to save his dignity.

And they made sure he understood, by the government law yes, it was a misstep but by the law of humanity, law of heart and Pack it was his pride.

He was a less frequent case of omega going feral to protect his pack mate.

And he did.

That time the alphas were confused and instinctually petrified by his growling was enough for the patrol to get to them.

When Jungkook saw him that same evening with a leather band wrapped around his throat he almost had a nervous breakdown.

It took a while of scenting and talking for the younger to understand Yoongi's attitude towards it. And the amazing news was that he filed a statement against those alphas and already filled a complaint to the university law department about the actions of his delusional fan club.

- I am who I am hyung, - he whispered next to the elder sitting on the couch, legs pressed together. - And noone, no wolf no matter of their gender or subgender will tell me how I should be.

No matter how much anyone claims they love me, they will not shape me into something they say I should be.

- You're a smart little fellow aren't you, - Yoongi drawled, eyes almost closed from tiredness this longest day had brought. - Always do your thing, pup.

It's been a while after the incident and he made peace with the events that happened but sometimes they would still creep up to him in shapes of nightmares, unreasonable, because he was just fine!

But his brain wouldn't listen and tonight yet again he woke up with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat, panting from running that didn't happen at that moment in real life.

He got up to have a drink, standing next to the window, watching the lone cars passing by on the road.

He was fine.

⛓❀Jimin❀⛓

Despite having to go through long hours of practice and doing assignments Jimin never cut short his leisure. He loved going out to places, sometimes with friends, sometimes on his own.

Sometimes he'd just take a book and sit in the park, or take a camera to capture whatever caught his attention.

Just like on any free day he was walking and taking in his surroundings. The weather was clear, not overwhelmingly hot, sunny and windless.

He strolled around the busy street, going inside shops, looking for things from his wishlist he always kept with him. And from the list his dear hyung gave to him the moment he saw the younger going out, of course.

Jimin only sighed, it was probably an elder brother thing, to distribute tasks at any opportunity. With the amount of effort the other was putting into their well being. He never protested though, always appreciative of the eldest omega around his age that he knew.

He walked outside the small clothing shop and sat on the bench, busy organizing his shopper so everything is in its place and neat when he got distracted by the scent of sandal. He loved that aroma so much, it immediately attracted his attention.

Yes, his beloved sandal and something else that was spicy, just on the tip of his tongue, something he couldn't put a name to. But something that he could so easily taste, like it's something he's been waiting for for a long time.

He turned his head slightly and saw someone sitting on the other side of the bench, still quite close. He was so oblivious to his surroundings he was afraid he disturbed someone's personal space.

- Excuse me, - he said, bowing his head in a polite gesture, - Sorry if I disturbed you.

The person turned his body to the sound and he was met with a pair of piercing eyes. The feline like ones that had him freezing in place and his heart fluttering.

He got confused, thinking he offended them somehow but then he noticed a thin strip of leather around the neck with a little ring and a metal plate on the side. A warning collar. Shit, this person must be fed up with people around.

He got flustered, he didn't have any intention to invade someone's space and it seemed he bothered the person so he got up to leave. For the sake of peace

-  Run faster, alpha boy, I do bite. - the gravelly voice reached his ears and made his spine straighten.

- I'm sorry? - Jimin was dumbfounded. Social interactions were so difficult. - I invaded your space, wasn't looking where I was sitting really. I'm going to go. - he sat his shopper on his shoulder and raised from the bench.

- No, wait, - the person said, emitting a heavy sigh, - that was unnecessary rude of me. It's not your fault you happened to chose this bench to sit.

He had a pained expression on his face, - I'm just not having the best of days.

The look in the strangers features was apologetic and Jimin hoped he could read people enough to deem them genuine.

- It's alright, - he said lightly, - I hope it's going to get better for you. I'm Jimin, - he did a small bow. - Just tell me if I'm disturbing you and I'll move, - he finished with a smile.

[Too considerate, Yoongi thought, that's suspicious.]

- Min Yoongi, - the person said, - That you can perfectly read from this. - he flicked the metal plate.

Jimin got confused again but then it dawned on him: Yoongi means the name and birth date tag on his collar.

- I can't read very well from that far, - he admitted bashfully, - nonetheless, it's nice to meet you, Yoongi-ssi.

Jimin went back to his bag, setting everything straight. He felt Yoongi watching him and he didn't know how to act.

He wasn't judging him and wasn't afraid. He could assume Yoongi might be agitated or fed up with strangers treating him weirdly. He hopes noone was mean to him because of something that was a formality.

The scent, most likely omega, held warning notes but he didn't expect the stranger to become violent or aggressive.

- Neat choice, - he heard and turned his head to Yoongi again.

The other was pointedly looking at the pink and lilac sleeve of a silky robe that was hanging from his shopper.

- Ah, this, - Jimin laughed, - that's for my hyung. He loves such materials after coming out of- anyway, he likes these things.

- What about you, alpha boy? - Yoongi's smirk was challenging, if Jimin was to describe it.

- I love them too! - he replied eagerly, - Just prefer red and burgundy colours. And it matches everything else so I don't have to buy half of the boutique, - he giggled seeing the omega holding back a smile of his own.

- You really aren't afraid of me, are you, - he mumbled under his nose.

Jimin caught it anyways.

- Why would I be?- at the raised eyebrows he added, - If you mean the thing around your neck, well, half of my family have them. Did you grow up in the city?

Baffled at the sudden question omega answered:

- Yes, I'm from around here. Always been an urban boy. - He chuckled in his deep voice.

- Well, tell you what, I'm from a small village and there's no prejudice about collars there. Mostly because half of wolves in any village have them. City wolves though... - he sighed, - they're not nice to you, are they?

He saw a pained look in the other's face.

- They aren't rude or anything, just weird about it. I'm used to this thing and I believe my reasons for whatever happened were justified but this morning I tried going there - he pointed at the shopping centre nearby - and the guards wouldn't let me in alone. And today my friend is staying home studying so... I'm a bit frustrated. Sorry I've taken it out on you. Alpha boy, - he said with much less malice than the first time.

Jimin nodded, accepting the apology with understanding in his eyes.

- I see how they treat people with collars differently in a big city. Sorry you have to bear their attitude. - the alpha looked at the mall Yoongi pointed at before - I actually fancied going there myself. Would you like for us to go together? I took all my discount cards!

With that he fished out a book out of his shopper that turned out to be a storage album for various cards.

Yoongi let out a laugh, shoulders shaking cutely and nose adorably scrunched.

- You got me with them cards, boy, let's do it. I badly need shopping therapy after this morning.

Yoongi got up from the bench and confidently moved forward, heavy leather boots stomping on the pavement. Jimin walked up to him briskly, trying to catch up.

As they proceeded to the main doors of the shopping centre he noticed how the crowd before them dwindled as people who noticed Yoongi's collar immediately moved out of the way as if the omega was a cat walking through a flock of pigeons.

Jimin rolled his eyes. People were so stupid sometimes.

- Have you frozen out there? - he saw Yoongi turning around and expecting him to follow faster - If we like different shops we are going to need double the time with each other to look through everything!

Jimin increased his steps right away and tried to walk in line with the sassy omega. He didn't expect such turn of events but his instincts were whispering he was on the right way.

⛓❀Yoongi❀⛓

For the past year since he got the collar Yoongi's heart has grown a steel armor.

Gradually all the people he had connections with disappeared and cut contact with him.

All members of his vast family including far cousins that attended the same university didn't call or even acknowledge him when he passed by them in the hallways. His colleagues turned cold and wary and he left his job as a barista at local cafe.

Now he worked from home, tutoring online sometimes and doing assignments for subjects he had during previous years of his education. It was the most convenient because he didn't have to endure people's looks and stupidity around him anymore.

Maybe, he thought from time to time, having a warning collar had more positive sides than he initially imagined.

The only person who never left and was able to withstand the waves of prejudice thrown their way was Jungkook.

So imagine his surprise when his hyung told him about how his afternoon went.

- You willingly hung out? With someone who you just met? And he was an alpha of all people?

Seeing his surprise doe eyed expression Yoongi snickered.

- He was cute, I won't deny that. Something in me pushed me to talk to him. Do you know, he keeps his discount cards in a special book?

- That's just dad energy, - the younger commented, earning another snicker in response.

- Dad energy, that's quite fitting. He was buying things for others too. Considerate, - Yoongi hummed.

- How considerate are we talking here? - the young omega perked up, - Friend level or mate level? - and earned himself a strong shove.

- Look, don't read too much into it. Because no matter the circumstances it was just an alpha call to please an omega or something. And I really wanted to get inside that mall. My adhd was flaring and I needed matching socks to the new sweatshirt, I couldn't sleep until I purchased from that exact brand. Why didn't they have then in an online version of the store, I can't even understand - Yoongi was talking in an aggressive pout.

Jungkook could understand that.

Hyung was great at reading people and that "alpha boy" must have been giving off harmless energy for Yoongi to agree to the offer.

- Anyway, it's not like he will stick around. I'll probably never see the man ever.

- Whatever will be will be, hyung, - the younger omega noted wisely, thanking Namjooonie-hyung for his deep conversation with him.

He knew exact words for any situation and Jungkook was happy to learn them from the bookshop owner.

❀⛓❀

Yoongi hasn't seen Jimin until a week later, at a department store that didn't have such responsible or prejudiced security as the mall he liked. Jimin was in the aisle with cleaning supplies, on the phone with someone, probably one of his friends.

- Yes, I'm looking at it right now. No, it's unscented. Yes, I will, Hoseokie-hyung.

He locked the phone before putting it away and picked two bottles of the solution he was looking at. He turned around to put them inside the trolley and saw a familiar looking omega nearby.

- Yoongi-ssi? Good afternoon!

The omega gave him a small wave, unsure if he should approach Jimin again in a public setting and make an effort to talk.

- Hello, Jimin, - he said as the alpha approached him himself. - Shopping duty?

- I'm the one who usually does it. - the young man's smile seemed to be contagious because Yoongi tried to repress smiling back with all his might. - I live with my brother and two friends and none of them like shopping that much.

- That's a lot of people. Isn't it too much tension between all the alphas? Or they're not- - he backtracked. Not everyone lived with same subgender nowadays.

He didn't use to be rambly like that but after his outburst a year ago some of his filter was gone irreversibly.

Or maybe Yoongi has always been a curious cat.

The more time passed since he put the collar on the more he wondered: was he changing or he was just coming back to himself?

- They're all omegas actually, - Jimin smiled, fond and warm. It was obvious how he loved them. - My elder brother, his best friend and my best friend decided it's best to live all together. It's more convenient and our personalities work well.

- That's amazing, Jimin, - Yoongi loved such stories.

It sounded like a modern version of a family, when you're close to those who don't necessarily share same blood with you.

He didn't notice they moved towards the tills already. They paid for their purchases and Jimin asked if Yoongi needed a ride.

Although the looks and crowd parting before him didn't offend Yoongi that much anymore he was still pissed at peoples stupidly.

So he agreed, happy to avoid walking in public.

The road was fun, Jimin gentlemanly offering the omega to plug in and play his music and talking about various things without much meaning.

When they stopped not far from the apartment Yoongi and Jungkook lived in together now, Jimin turned around and picked up a small shopping bag from the back seat.

He offered it to the omega wordlessly.

- What is it? - Yoongi perked up, his palms itching to take the offering but the rational part of his brain wanting to know the details first.

- It's something for you if you'd like to take it. - Jimin smiled warmly at him, head tilted a little, as to show the omega he was meaning no harm.

Yoongi looked inside and saw warm homewear socks from the same collection he was hunting for the other day.

Only these would be great for wearing inside.

He took the bag delicately, trying to quickly decide, should he throw it in the cheeky alpha's face or take it.

He didn't think Jimin had any malicious intent judging by a submitting gesture of his head.

He didn't think it would be any kind of joke because his instincts were telling him the alpha was not a threat. And frankly, he hasn't met an alpha who would do that gesture merely for omega's comfort.

- Thank you, Jimin, - he decided to be civil.

Never too late to throw stuff at alpha's faces like they do in dramas!

- I like these, they will be a great addition to my collection.

He stretched his hand and squeezed Jimin's shoulder for a moment, before going back to opening the car door.

- Can I have your number? - the alpha asked and Yoongi sighed in mock exasperation.

- So persistent, - he tsked, - Fine, - he said, taking his phone out and noticing Jimins smile grow even wider.

❀⛓Jimin⛓❀

The young alpha was sure he hasn't met anyone like Yoongi.

He tried to figure him out and couldn't. Which was all the more interesting than just meeting a wolf he felt a pull to, of the preferred subgender and of charming personality.

Jimin had a hunch Yoongi was more reserved before the collar incident.

Sometimes when he talked about something that was making him angry his pupils would dilate and the colour would turn from brown to amber.

But if the change didn't or did happen - it wasn't bad. It didn't matter to the enamoured alpha at all. That he knew.

⛓❀⛓

- So, he's got a screw loose? - asked Jin, sorting through the groceries Jimin just brought in and checking if his little brother brought everything that was required.

- That's! - Jimin exclaimed but stopped and counted to five before trying again, - Seokjin-hyung, that's a bit of a harsh description, don't you think?

- Not at all, youngling, - he laughed, - that's exactly what it is but you know what? There's nothing bad about it. Aren't we all a bit mad?

- Indeed, - Taehyung nodded, munching on a toast, - It's his personality trait.

- A quirk that makes that omega even more attractive to you, right? - he heard a slight warning in Hobi-hyung's voice and furiously nodded.

- No need to corner me like that okay? - Jimin raised his hands in defense - It's of course a part of his personality and I respect and like that even. No need to gnaw at me, I like him as he is! Every wolf is like they are and noone is to say how they should be.

- Then go meet up and give him another present! - his brother almost ordered and Jimin had no objections. - And comb your hair nicely! Ugh, you're so grown up already, - Seokjin sniffed fakely.

- You're all just embarrassing me, why do I love you so much? - the alpha whined.

❀⛓❀

He's met up with Yoongi a couple more times and every time he had a little gift for the omega.

They weren't too personal because there wasn't much he knew about Yoongi's life but they were thoughtful and they weren't pushy.

Sometimes alphas (or omegas, or betas) would get such gifts that the person of interest feels obligated to give something back or felt like they now owed something to the giver.

Jimin thought that was wrong.

So he kept the presents simple and sweet.

The omega seemed to be content, even though the alpha sometimes was on the receiving end of amber glares.

But he took them as something regular, like saying hello or wishing a good day to each other when they parted.

It wasn't a big deal.

Like his hyung said, it's a quirk of Yoongi and soon as he decided to bring him gifts then of course he wouldn't be against something that was a part of the omega now.

Before asking Yoongi out on a date Jimin thought he might get sick with nerves. Luckily for him the elder answered with a smirk and a polite:

- Let's try, alpha boy.

⛓❀Yoongi❀⛓

Yoongi didn't know what to think.

His wolf senses kept ringing Jimin was a good person.

Not a conventional alpha, not a conservative knothead. Lived with three omegas, so he knew all the omegan "kitchen", so to say.

Took his responsibilities seriously and was a charming boy all over. Had his share of baggage, anxiety and something else, but who doesn't?

Yoongi was unsure.

Jungkook thought his hyung is just looking for red flags and finding none so he's just paranoid.

Yoongi feelt like he needed something more though. Maybe some kind of sign?

⛓❀⛓

When they first met up - the elder refused to call them dates because that wasn't vocalized by any of them - it was a pastry workshop.

- Jinnie-hyung makes amazing cakes and pies, - Jimin whispered conspiratively, - I'd like to be able to make something too, even if it's very simple. And you mentioned you liked baking, right?

- That's right, just don't have much time for it anymore, - Yoongi rasped, looking around curiously.

- That's just perfect for us because I've read they will show only quick and simple things.

They spent that afternoon in the workshop making and then eating their creations.

Yoongi loved that.

Before he was sure he didn't like spending much time home. He didn't enjoy staying in, preferring more shifts at work.

He rested in the university library between writing assignments. He could cook well but didn't want to bother. This workshop made him miss the time just after school graduation when he started living alone.

He gave in to the instinct or to his mere wish to make his home a place of rest and have many nice things for himself.

He didn't have many urges like that in recent years.

Now though he felt nostalgic for those times. Should he become more domestic? He chuckled.

- It's good right? - Jimin asked enthusiastically, chewing on his rolls with lips covered in flaky pastry.

- It is, - Yoongi agreed easily, throwing yet another long look at the happy alpha next to him.

❀⛓❀

The second time they met up was in university cafe, both loaded with coursework but happened to have same window in their schedule.

Jimin was a gentleman as usual while not being overbearing, trying his best to serve the omega at lunch and show Yoongi he wasn't nervous.

But the elder wasn't fooled and just quietly observed a fidgeting alpha.

Clutching his new gift in his hands he still hasn't decided what to do with him.

Still, he agreed to the date.

⛓❀⛓

Yoongi thought he had Jimin all figured out: a younger alpha, a sweet and kind one, with probably a crush on the elder omega, hopefully (!) without the saviour complex because of the collar he had to wear.

But when he walked inside the family restaurant and saw Jimin waiting for him at the table he realised his miscalculation.

Jimin had surprises hidden within.

Yoongi was in his favourite leather jacket and a black shirt and dark jeans, a nice attire that Jungkook deemed appropriate for a first date.

Jimin usually had sort of the same style, something either a bit edgy or more colourful.

Now though he had a beautiful flowy blouse on, white folds of fabric hugging his figure perfectly, almost creating a work of art.

The bell sleeves looked elegant, maybe a little unfitting for the ripped jeans he had on but Yoongi was an advocate of "wear what you feel is good for you" so it was whatever.

He lifted his eyes when he approached the younger alpha and his legs all but stopped.

Because his eyes zeroed on a piece of black fabric (or was it leather?) around Jimin's neck.

It was a simple choker if not for a couple of hoops on the side and a Moon pendant in the middle.

- Hello, hyung, - he greeted sweetly, - how's my new purchase?

His face was so hopeful it hurt to look at.

Yoongi didn't know what to do.

He saw other patrons looking at them, probably with judgement.

Well.

Yoongis verdict: they could leave then because Jimin and him certainly won't.

He had an urge to do something the rational part of his brain immediately labeled as stupid.

Should he jump them?

Or should he jump Jimin first?

He breathed in and out to calm himself and not tackle the alpha down. For now.

He saw Jimin with his head tilted to the side again, as if he was looking at something on the floor but he was no fool, he knew the other was letting him know it wasn't a malicious gesture and the intent wasn't to mock him or anything.

The buzzing in his body left and he saw the alphas shoulders sag, posture more relaxed than before.

Jimin smiled disarmingly at Yoongi's piercing look. He will have to let this slide.

They chuckled and sat at the table, with the omega still looking at the accessory.

The conversation flowed easily, like it always does between them. They exchanged news and plans for the summer break.

Yoongi kept looking at Jimins collar - it was what it was, you can't buy something like that unintentionally - and felt something stirring inside.

That was much more valuable than any potential gifts, the omega thought.

Maybe that was the sign?

- What on earth made you buy something like this? - Yoongi asked when they headed to the younger’s car.

- I just wanted to match an omega that I hope will be my boyfriend, - the alpha replied, joyful and cheeky, still holding onto Yoongis hand.

- What can I say, - the omega hummed in thought, - Well have to wait and see.

The atmosphere was light and comfortable. Yoongi was really considering taking some of the walls down.

To make room for this crazy alpha who was not only fearless to approach a previously gone feral omega but keep in touch, attempt to court and feel at ease enough to show submission around him.

He will have to keep this gem for himself - was his final decision.

❀⛓❀⛓❀⛓❀

~the end~

[tsbookreviews]

Almond by Won-Pyung Sohn

Stars: 4.5/5

Review: This was a book I found in a bookshop, hadn't heard anything about it before I picked up the book. I personally found the book quite interesting, it was something different that I hadn't read before. The chapters are very short, and it felt like I sped through this book because of that.

Now a little bit into the actual book, you follow through a bit of the life of a adolescent male, Yunjae, who has Alexithymia as a result of an underdeveloped amygdalae. Essentially, he has trouble experiencing emotions - which is mother and grandmother tried to help him with. He eventually catches someone's attention, Gon, who bullies him but is later intrigued by Yunjae's indifferent attitude.

Now I won't spoil any more about the actual book, that's just my very basic blurb about how the book goes.

This book covers a lot of hard topics, some that are just morally wrong - but very relevant to the story. So keep that in mind when reading this book, some scenes may really bother some readers.

My only real qualm that I had with this book was the "miracle-esque" ending. For me, after reading the rest of the book, I wanted an ending that was real and raw. But I understand why the author chose to end it in such a way, for the character development.

After learning a little more about "nunchi" (a Korean concept) it really made the story all that more compelling. And as a non-Korean person reading it, I think it would have a very different impact to someone who understands Korean culture and concepts.

I would recommend this book to anyone who wanted something eye-opening.

P.S. for my kpop friends, this was the book that Yoongi was reading during In The Soop preview

[eoieopda]

Hi Jade :) What would the Lacuna/Redamancy couple’s wedding be like?

i love these kinds of questions 😭 thank you for caring, lol.

so, i think there are two ways it could go down:

1. extremely spontaneously, like they’re out getting coffee n pastries and joon is like “ya know what? i don’t feel like spending another minute not married to you”. this would result in a rush around town to find someone capable of marrying them on short notice. [à la minho 🥳] surprise! yoongi anticipated this possibility and completed an online program to become a minister. he sheds one (1) tear during their off-the-cuff but extremely touching vows, and pretends he didn’t.

2. planned and extremely private. like, joon rents out the independently-run, hole-in-the-wall bookshop that they frequent (together but sitting v quietly and reading separately for hours — fuckin nerds.) they have immediate family, yoongi & jinseo present. there is a 101% chance that jinseo makes a move on yoongi in front of god and everybody. joon probably knocks over a bookshelf on accident.